Things to do when it rains in heaven

We flew to Shanghai. It was a tedious trip. Very early start. Drive to the airport. Queue to get in past the explosives checking. People are allowed through the door in groups of twenty or so. Each person and bag is dabbed by a stick with some blotting paper on the end, as we traipse in, single file. Then we are corralled in a fenced off area while the stick is sent off for testing. We are lucky and a few minutes later we are allowed into the airport. I imagine that if the test came back positive then we all get arrested while being individually tested and searched. We have arrived way too early. This is done on purpose to ensure that we don’t miss the flight. Sometimes this means can get breakfast. This time the best we can manage is a coffee and some French fries. We get on the plane an hour before take-off. The plane is packed and stowing our luggage is a bit problematic. However, when everyone is settled in place, twenty minutes before schedule, we taxi out onto the runway. The seat was small and uncomfortable so I was relieved that the flight was only an hour and a half or so.

Next day, we were driven by coach to Suzhou. First up was a short cruise on the canal. Initially this sounded promising. We were taken on a short walk down to the canal. It was overcast and raining. Not ideal for sightseeing. Then we were all packed into a small, enclosed boat. We were not exposed to the rain but I could barely see outside, never mind take photographs. We all sat there, squished up and uncomfortable for an hour or so. The boat may have driven around some of the canals – it was hard to tell.

Escaping from the canal boat we wandered off on our own and found a man with a rickshaw type contraption who offered to show us around Suzhou. This turned out to be great fun. We were taken down small alleys and footpaths. He showed us the walls and a bridge where there was a good view of the canal. The rain continued but the rickshaw had plastic sheets which kept us mostly dry. Diane met two dressed up girls that wanted a selfie with her. Eventually, an hour or so later, we were back where we had started. It was nice to have been off doing something on our own rather than following along behind a guide. We had agreed a price for the trip but now the man doubled it. I was slightly taken aback. What happened to the agreed price? “That was for one person”, he explained. “There are two of you.” I was impressed by this line of logic and his nerve, so I paid him. It still did not amount to much and made our driver very happy.

Lunch was particularly pointless. So much so that I took a photograph of it. Nine dishes. Six of meat or fish. Diane and I each had a plate of plain white rice with some boiled broccoli and crunchy lotus root. Trust me, that is not a meal. After that unexpected disappointment, things got worse.

Next up was the Humble Administrator’s Garden. One of several UNESCO World Heritage site gardens in Suzhou, this is the largest, most iconic and most beautiful. It dates back to 1509, the Ming Dynasty, when it was built as a private garden residence. Did I mention it was raining? Properly raining. The sort of rain that settles in for the entire day and makes everything grey and dull. Despite this the garden was packed with people. The combined result was not good. Groups of soggy people moving between small areas of shelter and then jostling for a patch of dryness. We stuck with it for a good 20 minutes and then headed back to the coach.

Suzhou is a very popular tourist destination. The attractions include canals, stone bridges, pagodas and gardens. Along with Hangzhou, it is sometimes described as heaven on earth. I suspect that description applies more to sunny days.

How to cultivate your Chi, Prana and Kundalini

We were up early and standing around looking a bit awkward in the park. Tai chi is an ancient Chinese mind-body practice that combines slow, continuous movements, deep breathing, and meditation. Google tells me: Originally developed as a martial art for self-defence, it is now widely practiced for health, stress relief, and physical rehabilitation. We had been marched out in public with a Tai Chi Master for our first lesson. Despite the early hour, the park was packed with people. Some were singing. Really, there was a small choir standing under some trees.  A few others were getting on with their Tai Chi and some more were just wandering around taking it all in. There was also a robot. We have seen quite a few robots in hotels. This one was a park cleaning robot. It had several spinning brushes to collect leaves and rubbish. Armed with these it was happily and quietly pottering around.

I have noticed people doing Tai Chi before. Without any real understanding on my part, it just seemed like some aimless wafting around of hands and legs. Now, after an intense hour with a Chinese Tai Chi Master, in China, it still seems a lot like aimless wafting. How this has its origins in self-defence completely eludes me unless you can scare an attacker off by standing on one leg and waving at them. I mean, it is a nice gentle movement. Slightly better than just standing still in the early morning park. I can also see that it might improve your balance. That is the standing on one leg part. Other than that, I was left with a deep and profound sense of “why?”.

We cultivated our inner life energy to flow smoothly and powerfully. We balanced our yin and yang. We meditated and nurtured a state of mental quietness. I had my second coffee of the day and, at last, we were ready to visit a farm. The coach drove us out into the countryside an d dropped us off by a narrow track through some fields. We had a local guide with us and he started coming out with some remarkable nonsense about farmers. Along with his commentary, we walked past a smart new building with a BMW parked outside. Apparently, the farmers are all rich and happy.

The Great Leap Forward was an industrialisation campaign in China. It began in 1958 as commanded by Mao Zedong, chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (the guy in the mausoleum at Tiananmen Square). The goal was to transform the country from an agrarian society to an industrialized society through the formation of people’s communes. It all went terribly wrong and led to the Great Chinese Famine. Somewhere between 30 to 46 million people starved to death making it the worst famine in human history. Mao came up with some amazing ideas and had the power to make the happen. The Four Pests campaign was part of the Great Leap Forward. This set out to eliminate rats, flies, mosquitoes, and sparrows. You may not like all or any of these creatures but we need them. The damage this campaign did was immense. In many ways the ecology of China has never recovered. The agricultural system is similarly still feeling the echoes of the Great Famine.

What we saw was a pleasant rural scene. The karst scenery makes a great setting. There were fields of rice and other crops. A wide variety of fruits and vegetables including bananas and sesame seeds. We stopped to talk to a local farmer who was there with a buffalo and a calf. People lined up to be photographed with the calf. They were then encouraged to tip the farmer a few yuan. Just like your average BMW driver making a bit of cash on the side.

It was a one-way trip. We walked a kilometre or two and eventually arrived back at the main road where the coach was waiting. Just as we were leaving, the next coach of tourists eager to learn about farming arrived. Quite a pleasant walk but I am not sure we learned much about real farming.

The next morning was all about tea. We got taken to a Tea Research Plantation. This was, of course, a thinly disguised carpet shop selling tea and tea related products. We began in a field of tea bushes where we picked tea. Then we were shown how tea is processed. At least, how it used to be processed. I imagine it all goes into a factory these days. There was a rather unnecessarily drawn-out tea tasting. We tried three different types of tea. All hand made and fresh from the fields. As good as tea gets. This confirmed my understanding that I don’t like tea very much. Finally, we got to the shop. Many people walked out of here with boxes of overpriced tea. In the tea accessories section, I found a teapot priced at around £3,500. This must make the most amazing tea.

In the afternoon we went up a cable car. For some reason there was an old tank parked at the bottom cable car station. Gun barrel pointing out towards the car park. After the obligatory queuing, we clambered into a small gondola. Properly speaking, this was not a cable car (single car going up and down a cable) but a gondola lift or a continuous loop ropeway where multiple cabins run along a cable loop. This sort of lift is remarkably familiar to us from all the times we have been skiing. They are used extensively in the European Alps for getting people up the mountains. It looked so familiar that were it not for a label stating “Made in Beijing”, I would have thought it was from Europe. Every last detail looked familiar. We are in a country where copying is not merely tolerated but it is actively encouraged. Legal bastions such as copyright and patent law are not understood. Copying is considered a good thing. We have seen coffee machines that don’t say Nespresso and hair dryers that are not labelled Dyson. I regularly spot cars that look like a Porche, or a Jaguar or even a Rolls Royce. But they are not, they are copies. I think much of it arrives through this technology transfer notion. A company is attracted to China to manufacture their product cost effectively. The government may even offer inducements. Tesla are here. So are BMW, Dyson and many others. They can build their products here to sell them profitably to the rest of the world. Meanwhile, the copies start selling to the domestic market which, because China is so vast, may be larger than many world markets.

The views from the top of the gondola were excellent. There were many photography stations. Places you could pose with the mountain landscape behind you. This was full on professional stuff with props including stone ledges, an infinity pool, a wind machine, a smoke machine, a swing and so on. Each place came with a photographer all ready to go. We ignored all of these and wandered around the top for a while. There was a café where we enjoyed a cup of coffee. There was also an area stuffed with radio equipment and surrounded by a military grey steel fence topped with razor wire.

Eventually we came back down and rode the coach back to Guilin. In the evening was the standard sort of meal. We sat, in three groups, round a table with a lazy Susan in the middle. Food was delivered to the centre of the carrousel and we helped ourselves. No concession was given at all to the vegetarians. Seven of the eleven dishes contained either meat or fish. The remainder included plain white rice and some vegetables. On this particular occasion, we left after ten minutes and picked up some bean curd based street food, nuts and chocolate on the way back to the hotel.

Water buffalo and a spectacular show on water

I published a blog post out of order. Sorry. If you have paid any attention to this at all and are slightly confused then the correct order to read the last few posts is:

  1. A little fish banged its head. “Dam” it said.
  2. Chasing a golden dragon in the Wu gorge
  3. What is worth two birds in a bush?
  4. Water buffalo and a spectacular show on water (This one)

In the morning we left the river boat and took the bullet train to Guilin. Standard procedure. Queues. Passport. Crowds. Luggage. More queues. Small seats. Five hours later we arrived at a rather nice hotel that faced onto a large lake. Guilin is one of China’s most popular tourist destinations. A famous Chinese saying about the landscape of Guilin is “Guilin’s scenery is the best in the world.” It is certainly quite interesting and picturesque. The topography of the area is marked by karst formations. Triassic period limestone and dolomite rocks. What this means is lots and lots of small, steep sided hills.

Once we had dragged our luggage into the hotel, we all went off for a walk around the lake. It was nice to be able to stretch my legs after the long time in the bullet train. By Chinese standards, Guilin is a small city with just 3 million inhabitants. While we were there this population was bolstered by plenty of tourists. Some of them, the prettier female tourists, often hire traditional dresses. They then sit by the lake to be photographed.

 At the far side of the lake are two pagodas known as the sun and the moon temples. One of them sits on land, the other is in the water and looks inaccessible. We went inside the land pagoda, down some stairs, along an underwater tunnel to the sun pagoda and then up a lift. Eventually, after some narrow steps, we emerged at the top of the water pagoda to take in the views.

The Li River, running 83 km from Guilin to Yangshuo, is one of the city’s most celebrated natural features. Known for its emerald water and limestone peaks, the river section is a highly concentrated example of karst terrain. It is also a highly concentrated tourist area where we turned up the next day for a short cruise. This was billed a leisurely river cruise which, superficially sounded quite pleasant. Of course, I had forgotten the Chinese angle.

We queued to get onto one of a dozen or more boats that were all leaving at the same time. The boat was packed inside but fortunately, for me, there were very few people on the open top deck. After some jostling between cruise boats, we all set off – a great convoy of boats all heading in the same direction. In all, along the riverbank, I estimated there were about 200 river boats like the one we were on. All pretty much identical and being run by the same company. Each boat carrying 100 passengers.

The scenery was enjoyable. Ducks and geese by the waters edge. A few people fishing.  The occasional heron. At the start of the trip, the riverbanks were empty. Then we started seeing a few people and by the halfway point there were people everywhere. It also became apparent that there were two other types of watercraft. An electric boat that looked a little like a raft and could carry a dozen people. And a smaller boat that was styled on a bamboo raft although it was clearly made of plastic pipes. Just the three types of boat. No variety. Possibly all owned by the same state run company. But very popular. As we pressed on, more and more boats appeared. More people appeared on the riverside. Buildings could be seen through the trees.

I spotted some people, mostly girls, with cormorants. They had a pole with a bird on each end and were striking a pose for the photographer. Later, I worked out that the cormorants were stuffed. I never worked out why the girls wanted to be photographed with birds on a pole.

There were some water buffalo. It was hot so they, very sensibly, were in the water. Seemed very happy swimming along and would occasionally put their entire head under water. We came across more people in costumes being photographed. There were picnics and games by the waters edge. There were more houses and then suddenly there was a quayside. We tied up and all clambered off. It had been an interesting trip although I don’t think I have ever seen a natural beauty spot with so many crowds of people.

We had arrived at Yangshuo and we were going to stay here a couple of days. Our bags had been sent by truck and would be waiting for us at the hotel. This meant that from the docks we could walk to our hotel. An interesting route that took us straight through the town.

In the evening we went to a show. The Sanjie Liu Night Show, an open-air show which is directed by Zhang Yimou, the creator of the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony. We arrived at a quite enormous amphitheatre which, of course, was jam packed full of people. The show was performed on the lake in front of us. Powerful lights illuminated some of the surrounding hills. Boats were used to move the performers around and some enormous speakers on an island carried the music for miles. It was a spectacle. I don’t think there was a story, just a sort of theme about working people. Lots of loud music and colourful lighting. It all ended with many colourfully dressed people singing while patriotically waving Chinese flags.

What is worth two birds in a bush?

The weather remained obstinately hot, muggy, overcast, humid and generally unpleasant. We were herded off the boat along a floating causeway. Then up some steps and loaded into small, electric buses that whisked us off to Xianguanshan. This is billed as an Ancient Folk Culture Park near Fengdu, a county in Chongqing. The park reproduces historic ancient residential buildings, courtyards, temples, wood carvings and city gates in the Fengdu region. I am not quite sure whether these have been built in the style of the old building or if they were rescued from the gorges before they were flooded. Whatever, they are now part of a popular tourist stop by the Yangtze.

In many ways, it was the usual thing. Uncomfortably sweaty and packed in with hundreds of tourists. Not really my ideal way to spend a morning. Indeed, I had started to wonder just what I was doing there. The buildings were moderately interesting but it felt a bit like wandering around a museum without any exhibits. We are not too keen on museums at the best of times.

The one redeeming feature was the garden. Very few people lingered here. They were too busy getting to the next old house. There was lush vegetation and even some wildlife. We have seen precious little wildlife in China. I suspect they have eaten it all. After a few moments waiting quietly under a tree with dense foliage, it was delightful to spot a couple of birds. A Collared Finchbill and a Light-vented Bulbul is all it took to make me happy. I may be turning into a birder. There was also an interesting and magnificently coloured butterfly. Google tells me it is a Chinese peacock swallowtail.

Back to the boat and the last bit of cruising. In the afternoon, the sun finally made an appearance. It was a bit shy and did nothing to dispel the uncomfortable humidity. However, it did improve the light for photography. Sitting on the front deck with my telephoto lens, I was content to watch the world of the banks of the Yangtze River drift by.  

On the hills overlooking the river, I spotted many things that I would have like to have asked our guide about. He was nowhere around. Whenever he was not actively guiding us, he tended to slope off. I often caught sight of him smoking cigarettes and looking a bit miserable. Well, I thought he looked rather depressed, he was maybe just being oriental and inscrutable. There was a massive golden statue of a woman looking away from us. There was a tall, white pagoda catching the sun. There was a cenotaph looking strangely Egyptian. All these things remain a mystery to me. More comprehensible were the farming activities. Rice fields where it was flat enough. Cows in the water. There was the occasional person fishing on the banks and there were several boat yards. They looked a little ramshackle in some ways but they were obviously turning out some large working ships and appeared to be making a good job of it.

We arrived at Chongqing. This place is massive. A great, sprawling municipality the size of Austria but with three times the population. At 30 million residents, including rural areas. the municipality of Chongqing is the largest city proper in the world by population. The United Nations uses three definitions for what constitutes a city. A city proper is the geographical area contained within city limits. However you want to think about this, it is an awful lot of people and as far as I can work out, everyone lives in apartment blocks. There are thousands, possibly millions of these. Everywhere. All the places we have travelled there are apartment blocks. All remarkably similar. Some in great estates of identical towers. There are a few other types of accommodation but, anecdotally, it seems to me that just about everybody lives in the same size and type of apartment.

90% of homes are owned by their residents. Home ownership is remarkably high but at the same time urban land ownership is exclusive to the state. In a typical apartment block, the individual units can be bought and sold however the land on which the block is built is leased from the state on a renewable, fixed term contract.

This was the end of our cruise. We had another night on board and then in the morning we would head to Guilin.

A little fish banged its head. “Dam” it said.

We were going for a four-day cruise along the Yangtze River. This sounded great. I had visions of lounging around on deck with my camera, capturing river life as we drifted past. First, however, was another bullet train. The routine was familiar. Early start. Security to get into the station. Wait an hour. Queue to get onto the platform. Passport check. Find seat. Find somewhere for the luggage. Settle into small uncomfortable seat as best you can. Nearly seven hours this trip. I would have slowly crawled out when we arrived except that we were told the train would only be stopping for four minutes. As the train pulled into the station, we were ready. The luggage was ready. The doors opened and everyone in our group helped getting luggage and people off the train. This did not stop people on the platform from trying to get on. They are like that in China. Absolute experts at being crowds, pushing and shoving. They were working to the same four-minute deadline and did not care much about anything else. For a few minutes there was a glorious chaos. I suspect some bags may have been lifted off, then back on and finally off again, or visa-versa. We prevailed. They prevailed. The train doors shut and the Japanese looking Chinese bullet train slid away. Rather remarkably, everyone and everything was in its correct place.

We made our way to a coach. The coach made its way to the docks. We began our cruise, in the manner of most cruises, by queuing for ages to get onto the boat. There was a steep drop down to the river. We rode a strange funicular type of carriage to get there. After the obligatory introductory safety talk, we found our cabin. It was rather nice. A decent size with a balcony and a big, comfy bed. Our home for four nights. Lovely.

The Yangtze River is one of the world’s great waterways. This 6,300 km river has its origins high up in the snow-covered mountain of Tanggula, Tibet. It empties into the East China Sea near Shanghai. Known as China’s “lifeline,” its basin supports roughly one-third of the country’s population. The river produces a massive share of China’s rice and freshwater fish. In this way it drives nearly half of the national economy. The Yangtze is also home to the Three Gorges Dam, the world’s largest hydroelectric power station. This was to be our first excursion of the cruise.

China invaded and annexed Tibet in 1950–1951 to secure its strategic southwestern borders, claim vital natural resources, and assert historical claims of sovereignty. The People’s Republic of China (PRC), led by Mao Zedong, maintained that Tibet had been an integral part of China since the Qing dynasty and viewed the military action as a “peaceful liberation” to restore internal order and reclaim lost territory. Beijing framed Tibet’s traditional theocratic system as a backward feudal society that needed to be modernized and freed from elite rule. China presented themselves as the good guys liberating a repressed Tibet.

Of course, there were a few other considerations. Securing the high-altitude Himalayan frontier gave China a dominant military and geographical buffer against South Asia, particularly India. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) feared an independent Tibet might align with Western powers or India during the Cold War. Most importantly, Tibet contains the headwaters of major Asian rivers (such as the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers), which are vital for irrigating and sustaining eastern China’s population centres. Which is why the Three Gorges Dam started me thinking about this. Finally, control of the region offered access to abundant mineral wealth, raw materials, and vast land reserves.

Following the military defeat of the Tibetan army at Chamdo in October 1950, the Tibetan government was pressured into signing the Seventeen Point Agreement in 1951. Tensions eventually erupted into the 1959 Tibetan uprising, forcing the 14th Dalai Lama into exile in India and leading to direct Chinese rule. This whole period was rather nasty. Many Tibetans were imprisoned and tortured. Others fled to neighbouring countries. Temples and important historic and religious artifacts across the country were wrecked. The people suffered, the culture was destroyed and Chinese rule was enforced. Unfortunately for Tibet, it is not connected with the west, it has no resources of interest to the west and so nobody was there to help. In 1960, the International Court of Justice received a report accusing the Chinese government of genocide against Tibetans as a religious group. Other Tibetans have offered accounts of massacres, tortures and killings, bombardment of monasteries, extermination of whole nomad camps, and the use of military equipment provided by the Soviet Union for Chinese punitive operations. Over 6,000 monasteries in Tibet were destroyed.

The Cultural Revolution launched in 1966 (that gave rise to the Tiananmen Square massacre) was a catastrophe for Tibet. Large numbers of Tibetans died violent deaths and the number of intact monasteries in Tibet was reduced from thousands to less than ten. The Central Tibetan Administration claimed that the number that have died of starvation, violence, or other indirect causes since 1950 is approximately 1.2 million. The situation is still far from being resolved. The Dali Lama is still in exile, Tibet is still mostly closed off, Tibetan culture is suppressed. Since the 2000s, China has invested heavily in the region but generated controversies due to the sinicization of Tibet. Human rights abuses remain a concern especially where it comes to freedom of religion and political prisoners.

Since we were moored in sight of the dam, it was not a long drive to the viewing area. We did however need to pass through several security checks to get there. The weather was still very warm but it was overcast and raining. China is enormously proud of its dam and it appears to be a big tourist attraction. At one side of the dam is a large lock system so that river boats can pass. The Yangtze plays a very important role as a transport corridor. The locks are impressive. Up there on the Panama scale. We drove across the locks so I could only take photographs through the window of the coach – never very satisfactory.

From the car park we needed to queue (obviously) and then pass through security and the usual checks. After this came a series of long elevators up the hillside. Outside elevators, packed with people, in the drizzle. This felt rather strange, riding on an elevator in the rain. Eventually, we arrived at the top where the large, crowded viewing area was. Unfortunately, there was not a lot to be seen because of the rain and the mist. We walked back down a different way. Took us past some food stalls where you could buy shrimps and little crabs. The crabs were sufficiently small that, I think, the only way you could eat them would be to crunch them whole. Never saw anyone do this though so my views are just conjecture. Eventually, we walked through a small park area right next to the dam. Despite the rathe gloomy day, the dam was resplendent with Chinese flags.

Back at the boat, we settled down for our second night of the cruise. The food was reasonable. Certainly better, for us, than the previous few days. There was also plenty of red wine. In the bar there was a cabaret. We watched it for a few minutes and then opted for the TV in our cabin. Second night of the cruise and the boat had not left its moorings yet.

Chasing a golden dragon in the Wu gorge

In the morning, the weather had not improved at all. The scenery however, had changed. During the night, the ship had moved a short way up stream. We are above the Three Gorges Dam. That is to say, we are in the reservoir part. It does not feel much like a reservoir because of the way it is formed out of steep sided mountains. The water underneath us is deep. The dam wall is 185 m high so the water here is up to 175 m deeper than it used to be. 13 cities, 140 towns and 1,350 villages were flooded by the reservoir. 1.4 million people needed to move. These people were moved to new homes by the Chinese government, which considered the displacement justified by the flood protection provided for the communities downstream of the dam. Many of the displaced people struggled to find work and their living standards declined. Older people were especially badly affected. Younger generations benefited from the educational and career opportunities afforded by moving to large cities.

I was a bit disappointed that we had moved during the night when I could not see anything. After breakfast, we did go on a cruise but not in our big river boat. We were scheduled to go on a much smaller boat to have a look up some of the smaller gorges off to the side of the main river. I imagined a relaxing couple of hours, sitting comfortably, enjoying the sights of the river. The reality was loads of people crowded onto a small boat. Inside, all the seats were rapidly snapped up. That was ok because I could not take good photographs through a grubby window. Up on the top deck there was fresh air and, again, a great mass of people manoeuvring for a good position near the railings.

The trip was a couple of hours but it was far from relaxing. Food and drink were being sold. Obviously, it was at extra cost but the bigger problem was that food appeared to universally involve meat or fish. I wanted a cheese sandwich not a bowl of noodles with squid tentacles and the offal of unspecified animals. On the top deck, I braced myself against the railings as best I could and tried to ignore the drizzle. We steamed up a gorge along with a small flotilla of similar ships. It was moderately interesting. Announcements were made very loudly and in Chinese. This might have been a commentary on where we were or it could have been advertising for the noodle pots. We passed a few interesting rock formations, a small temple and eventually arrived underneath a suspension bridge. I tried to take a few photographs although it was not always easy to get an image that did not include somebody’s head.

The skipper did an excellent job with a three-point turn under the bridge. Then we set off back. This, predictably, was terribly similar to the trip out. Meanwhile below decks, many of the locals had polished off their noodles with offal and were falling asleep. I guess they had seen everything they needed to on the outward leg. Coming back was faster. We were going downstream. Before long we were back on our ship and, at long last, we got to do some river cruising on it. Sneaking around in the dark does not count.

The next section of the Yangtze River is narrow and steep. Two gorges in quick succession. The 40 km Wu Gorge is known for its quiet beauty, forest-covered mountains and cliffs so sheer that the sun barely penetrates the precipices. That is what the brochure states. If the clouds cleared then you still would not be able to see the sun. Then comes the more dramatic Qutang Gorge. 8 km long and 150 m high. There is no problem with the water depth. No danger of shallows. After the dam was built, the water level rose by over a hundred metres. The walls of the canyon are steep. There are no shallows. It was fun to sit out on deck watching the boat navigate the narrow passage. I imagine the gorge must have been truly spectacular before they were filled with water. Some ships were coming the other way, so I amused myself by waving at them.

We passed a temple and a town and a pagoda and many, many cliffs. Some of the rock faces had writing on them. I could not understand the Chinese characters but imagined them to be state approved words of inspiration and encouragement.

An hour or so before sunset we arrived at Wanzhou. Here we moored up for the night along with many other tourist boats. One particularly caught my attention in that it was dressed up as a dragon. A gold tourist ship dragon. Looked great from a distance but when we got closer, we could see that it was a bit tatty. Good effort though.

How to clean your ears while drinking tea

Another bullet train. This time for four hours. It was the normal procedure. Get up way too early so that we can wait for an hour at the station. Then start queuing and eventually get us and our bags onto the train. The rest of the trip is about staving off boredom and hoping the small, uncomfortable seats do not give me haemorrhoids. Main excitement of the trip was getting a packed lunch delivered. They do not serve much food on the train. However, you can ring ahead and get someone to bring a packed meal to the train. Our meals were waiting on the platform as the train pulled into the station. They were handed into the correct coach and then distributed by our guide. Each meal was elaborately packaged in an insulated bag. The main part of the meal was in a second insulated container. Accompanying it were disposable utensils and a hygienic wipe. Unfortunately, the food was rubbish. For us, the vegetarians, it was just a pile of plain vegetables. I wondered a little about the amount of waste. An awful lot of single use plastic. That seems to be normal in China. Single use water bottles are ubiquitous. We did not see any attempts at ecologically friendly packaging at all.

We eventually arrived at Chengdu, checked into our hotel and then went out to see the face changers. The Chinese art of face-changing, known as Bian lian, is a 400-year-old dramatic technique from Sichuan opera where performers switch vividly coloured masks in the blink of an eye. I found it simultaneously entertaining and rather alarming. You cannot see the masks changing. The performers wear up to 15 ultra-thin silk masks stacked on top of one another.  Fine threads of silk connect each mask to different parts of the costume. A fast head turn, a sweep of a fan, or a wave of a hand pulls the top mask away into the costume instantly. Expert performers can swap several masks in just a few seconds. Unfortunately, once you have seen a few face changes the novelty wears off and the rest of the show was fairly mediocre.

In the morning, we were up early to see the pandas. As far as I was concerned, this was the real reason we were in Chengdu. Giant pandas once roamed across Southeast Asia from Myanmar to northern Vietnam. Their range in China spanned much of the southeast region. In 2001, it was estimated that the range of the giant panda had declined by about 99% of its extent in earlier millenniums. Today, they just inhabit a few mountainous regions in China. Deforestation and poaching drove panda numbers down to around 1,000. They are now strongly protected and have several dedicate reserves. Even so there are only maybe 2,000 in the wild and some 700 in captivity.

The Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding is a government-funded non-profit breeding and research institute for giant pandas, red pandas, and other rare animals, located in Chengdu, Sichuan. 124 pandas have been born there since it was established in 1987. The declared mission is to “be a world-class research facility, conservation education centre and international educational tourism destination.” It is also a massive tourist attraction. When we arrived, the whole place was absolutely packed with people. There were enormous queues for everything. We needed to be scanned by security and then have our passports scanned. Then, after some more queuing, we were driven by golf cart up to where the animals are. We had to pay extra for the buggy ride. Presumably, we could have walked but it was several kilometres and the weather was scorching sweaty. Even if you made there and back without heatstroke then there would not have been enough time to see anything. There were a lot of little extras like this on the tour. Meals are provided but not drinks. Any drinks. Water, for goodness sake. It is an extra that you have to pay for.

We arrived at the zoo. What is the difference between a zoo and a research base? I don’t know but here were animals in cages, cafes, souvenir shops, ice cream shops, panda statues, panda memorabilia and crowds and crowds of people. The walkways were six deep with tourists trying to spot a panda. Fortunately, I am taller than many of the people here so I could take photographs over the top of them with my telephoto lens. The temptation to rest it on somebody’s head was almost irresistible. If you are small and want to come here then be prepared to fight. We wandered around for a couple of hours and managed to see a few pandas. They are remarkably cute and fascinating to watch. Unfortunately, standing there in the baking sun and pressing crowds it was not a very relaxing experience. The pandas were in large open compounds. Some singly and others in small groups. The compounds looked to be seriously escape proof and even featured electric fences. The bears had trees and smaller plants to make the place seem a bit more natural but not really a lot of space. The viewing walkways overlooked the compounds and just the noise from all those people must have been a big disturbance to the animals.

Along with the giant pandas there were also some red pandas. These don’t look anything like the big pandas but they are still extremely cute. In the wild, there are an estimate 10,000 animals and they are spread over a much larger. Unlike the giant pandas they are still being hunted and driven from their habitat so their numbers are reducing. In Nepal, 121 red panda skins were confiscated between 2008 and 2018. There was also a cage with a golden snub-nosed monkey. He was behind particularly strong wire netting. Shortly before we left, I spotted a small bird in a tree. Not part of the zoo but one of the very few wild animals that I have seen in China. Turned out to be a Yellow-vented bulbul.

Diane bought herself a green giant panda ice cream as we headed back to the meeting place. Then we were done. Another cart ride. A bus ride and we back in Chengdu heading for the park. I was feeling quite sorry for the animals in the panda zoo and quite exhausted from the crowds and the heat.

People’s Park is described in our itinerary as a pleasant respite from urban Chengdu. It is not. It is just as hot and crowded as anywhere else. There are some nice flower beds, bonsai and fishponds. However, you will need to push and shove through the crowds to see them. We were here to drink camomile tea and get our ears cleaned. First, we needed to visit the matchmaker’s corner. Here lonely people hang sheets of paper with their romantic details for others to peruse. You might think that one of the many lonely-hearts sites on the internet would serve better – but that would only be because you do not know the Chinese internet. Next stop was the tables where tea is served. Apparently, this is the local tradition and popular pastime. Meet up with your friends for a cup of tea, a cosy chat and to get the wax extracted from your ear canal. We sat at some tables and ordered tea. Then the ear cleaning men arrived. Each armed with a set of tools and a headtorch. I declined the offer but others were up for it. In fact, if you looked hard in any direction, you could see someone bent over a tea drinker sticking various brushes and other tools into their ear.

Steam breathing dragons in the Muslim quarter

The day began with a lesson in calligraphy – the ancient, revered art of stylised writing using brush and ink. Considered a supreme visual art form in traditional China. The significance runs far deeper than just making some nice-looking characters. Calligraphy is viewed as a discipline for cultivating moral character, inner peace, and self-expression. Great works reflect the artist’s personal integrity and vitality through the speed, pressure, and rhythm of each brushstroke. It was inscribed on everything from imperial scrolls and fans to massive cliff walls, and mastery was required for civil service exams. I was quite pleased with my attempt to write the Chinese character for “man” 男 and our teacher, a university professor of calligraphy, gave me a little red stamp of approval. After that it all went downhill a bit and my paper started to look as if the ink bottle had been knocked over onto it. We ended up watching our tutor draw a picture of some bamboo. Then we were invited into the showroom just in case we wanted to buy any of the many pictures displayed there. This was a well disguised carpet shop but still ended up being essentially a sales pitch.

Next, we were taken to a market area in the Muslim Quarter. Described as the hub of Xian’s Islamic community this is a small but busy area packed with food shops. On our way there, we were given a talk about how well China treats it minority communities and how everybody gets on with each other. There are about 25 million Muslims in China. This sounds a lot but is still less than 2% of the population. Many of the traders who used the Silk Road were Muslim. Apart from goods, they carried with them their culture and beliefs. Islam was one of the religions that spread this way in the 7th to the 10th centuries through war, trade and diplomatic exchanges. The Muslim quarter that we saw seemed to be mostly about food. All types of food in hot, busy, colourful stalls. The scene did not strike me as very Islamic. Dress mostly looked Chinese. There were no burkas. Very few women even wore head scarfs. We did not spot any mosques or hear a call to prayer. There was no obvious Islamic art. If the area was Islamic then it was in a lightweight, easy sort of Chinese way.

Although Muslims have been in China for a long time it has not always been an easy relationship. There are around 12 million Uyghur Muslims. They live mostly in the far-west Xinjiang region, are ethnically Turkic and speak their own language. According to Amnesty International the Chinese government has placed over one million Uyghurs into detention camps and prisons. Human rights groups claim that these people face severe surveillance, forced labour and limits on religious practices like fasting or praying. The Chinese government states that these camps are vocational “re-education” centres and counter-terrorism measures designed to stop separatism and religious extremism. Hui Muslims make up around 11 million people living across the central and eastern regions. The authorities have also placed pressures on these communities. Overall, the state policies appear to be aimed at creating a sanitised Chinese version of Islam. I think this is what we were shown.

Lunch was, yet again, a bit of a disappointment but then we got taken to a pub. A real ale pub at that. Part of the premises were given over to a micro-brewery where several types of beers were being made. Many people like the mildly flavoured wheat beer. Personally, I struggle with a beer that is cloudy and preferred the strongly flavoured IPA. There was also a pilsner type lager and fairly conventional bitter. We each got a free beer. This surprised me because generally on this trip they do not miss a chance to charge us for an optional extra. We also got a couple of hours lounging around in the pub buying our own beer and chatting. This was very pleasant and also made a nice break from all the rushing around.

Back in the days of the Tang Dynasty, Xian was known as Chang’an and was an important cultural and historical centre. In the evening we went off to see an optional show that was billed as an exciting exponent of this prosperous society that keeps alive the splendour of this period. Optional meant we had to pay for it. The other option was to sit in your hotel room.

The show however was excellent. We had good seats and we had beer from the pub. The Sheffield City Hall will throw you straight out if you walk in carrying a couple of beers. Here, however, it is fine. I have no idea what the show was about. There was a lot of solid drumming. Even a couple of drum solos. Some dramatic music, colourful lighting and pretty girls dancing. What was not to like?

How to dig up a problem

Xian is not only famous for the Terracotta Army but also for its walls and numerous temples and towers. We started our day with a visit to the walls. This was quite fun. Early in the morning before too many people were around. A steep ramp of steps took us to the top of the walls. From here we could peer down on the city waking up underneath us. Some keen early morning joggers were running around the top of the walls. Down below a group of less energetic locals were doing their tai chi and a young girl was posing for photographs. We saw an awful lot of this in China. One or more pretty girls dressed to the nines looking their best for the camera. If you want to get the best effect, you can hire a frock and a photographer.

The day was already starting to get hot as we came down off the walls and clambered into the coach. 40 km east from the city is where the Mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang and his Terracotta Army are located. From the car park we had to walk. Then we had to queue and get through security. Then we had to walk quite a long way before queuing again to go through a passport check. In the normal run of things, a passport is not needed to gain entry to a museum. This is China. You need your passport to catch a train, visit a museum, go on a river cruise, enter a theatre or even visit a garden. I am not just talking about a simple glance at passport type check either. This is a full-on electronic scan. Insert your passport and wait for the light to turn green. Identity, location and time verified with the central database. Somebody is keeping very close tabs on exactly where you are. This is not just for tourists. Everyone needs to carry an electronically scannable identity card.

We still could not get to see the Terracotta Army. First, we needed to run the gauntlet of the Terracotta Army carpet shop. This began with a little workshop where they were making a little Terracotta Army. Souvenir army figurines made with the local clay so they looked a lot like the real thing. After the talk about artisan craftsmen, authenticity and the other usual stuff, we got shown into the Terracotta Army showroom. This contained hundreds, possibly thousands, of Terracotta Army themed souvenirs plus a lot of other stuff that was just touristy and Chinese. Took a while just to find the way out of here and then we were taken off for lunch.

Lunch turned out to be terrible and the day was turning out to be horribly hot and sweaty. So, I was feeling quite grumpy when we finally got to stand in a queue that would get us, at last, to see the Terracotta Army. The sculptures depict the armies of Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China. They were buried with him to in his mausoleum with the purpose of protecting him in his afterlife. The figures vary in height according to their rank. Obviously the tallest are the generals. The figures include warriors, chariots and horses. Estimates are of more than 8,000 soldiers, 130 chariots with 520 horses and 150 cavalry horses. Other, non-military terracotta figures have since been found in other pits, including those of officials, acrobats, strongmen, and musicians. The figures were discovered in 1974 by seven farmers digging a well. Shortly after the significance of the find was recognised the site became an archaeological dig, a UNESCO heritage site and a massively lucrative tourist attraction described as the eight wonder of the world.

Our wonderfully politically correct guide, Johnson, explained that the farmers were compensated and re-housed. However, the truth is that their farmland was seized and their houses demolished. The discoverers received almost no financial compensation—initially just one yuan—and many slipped into extreme destitution while the tourism generated immense wealth for officials and businessmen. One of the farmers, Wang Puzhi, committed suicide in 1997 after suffering from extreme poverty and untreated heart disease. Yang Wenhai and Yang Yanxin both died penniless in their 50s from severe illnesses. A few surviving members, such as Yang Zhifa, were later employed at the Emperor Qin’s Terracotta Warriors and Horses Museum gift shop to sit and sign books for tourists for a tiny daily wage.

The army is in three pits. Pit 1 is the largest and holds the greater part of the army. We had to fight to get in. Chinese, we have learned, spend a lot of times in crowds and queuing. They are not only exceptionally good at it but also completely ruthless. We joked that if you stood with your feet apart then someone would slip through between your legs. Sneaking under your arms is commonplace. Pit 1 is a massive, covered area with a walkway down the sides. You enter at one end and exit at the other. Inside, you need to fight to see over the railings as you get carried along towards the exit. It was all very hot, smelly and uncomfortable. Guards are posted everywhere and I was rather startled by the tools on display for managing unruly tourists. A sign proclaimed “No crossing. Violators must be punished”. You have been warned. Punishment is not optional.

Despite all this, the army is quite interesting. Several thousand life-sized figures all facing the same direction. Apparently, when they were first buried, they would have been dressed in standard armour and carrying real weapons. The sheer amount of work needed to create the army gives you an idea of the power that the emperor must have wielded. Right up there on the list of most powerful along with the Pharos of ancient Egypt. In a similar fashion to my first encounter with the pyramids, I was left with a wondering question about who came up with the idea of doing this and why they thought it was the way to go in the afterlife.

After Pit 1 comes Pit 3. A lesser pit with fewer figures in it. Then comes Pit 2 which appears mostly empty but does have some horses.  Dotted around all three pits were some indicators that this is still an active archaeological site. However, I did strongly suspect this was more for display than anything else.

Back out in the late afternoon sun we had to find our way back to the coach. This is no easy feat. The route back is long, a kilometre or more, and takes you through an entire village of souvenir shops, food shops and a myriad of other ways of trying to separate money from the tourists.

In the evening, we got the dressing up box out. After dinner everyone was handed robes and we all got dressed up before heading out onto the streets of Xian. This is really not my thing. I tried to go along with it and took a few photographs. Others were much more enthusiastic and set about engaging with some of the locals. At one point we came across a few people dancing on the pavement and everyone joined in. Nearly everyone. I felt my talents were better employed behind the camera.

The streets were crowded with people and well lit. It all made for quite a nice scene although I am not sure what the public thought about our pseudo-Chinese robes. I would like to imagine that they enjoyed us adding some colour and vibrancy to the evening. However, I suspect that some of them just sighed and muttered something about the nature of tourists. It all made for a long day. I was very happy to crawl into my bed.

How to build the worlds largest high speed train network

Our first morning stop was to visit some old hutongs. In Beijing, hutongs are alleys formed by lines of siheyuan, traditional courtyard residences. Once upon a time there were many of these. Now they are mostly demolished in the cause of progress. A few remain and are designated as protected.

We arrived in a large, open square where the locals were playing with shuttlecocks and banners. The shuttlecock game involves kicking a large shuttlecock between people. The banners were whirled around to make bright and colourful patterns. I am not really sure why the people were doing this. It seemed to make them very happy.

We were marched to a particular siheyuan where a friendly woman welcomed us and served tea. All 25 of us were packed into the tiny courtyard. Squished up on little stools while our guide explained to us about life in the hutongs. One of the things that got mentioned several times was how expensive a siheyuan was. Apparently, they are mostly privately owned and passed down the generations. I was puzzled at why a small accommodation in a rather scruffy area could be worth so much. Communist economics – what has happened to collective ownership? Much later, I got to thinking that the answer is that this is one of the very few opportunities to actually own a piece of land.

The woman played a tune on guzheng, a traditional Chinese plucked zither musical instrument. We all got the chance to look at an old door and some ornaments in a small side room. Then we were off and walking down the hutongs again. I imagine the woman was paid well for showing us the siheyuan. She had a bit smile as she waved us goodbye. The hutongs are incredibly narrow in places. I read the smallest is a mere 40cm. Unfortunately, we were not introduced to this one but even so, we discovered that trying to fit our group and car down the little streets was a bit tricky. Eventually we emerged by a Macdonalds burger place. I am reluctant to echo their claim to be a restaurant so I will just call it a place. This was slightly interesting however in the way that it had absorbed the local culture so as to fit in with the look and feel of the street.

That was it for Beijing culture. The next part of our journey was a bullet train to Xian. The Chinese bullet train network is remarkable. In the space of about 15 years, China has constructed the largest high speed train network in the world. 50,000 km of track with trains running at up to 300 km/h. For several reasons, this could probably only happen in China.

The technology has its origins in Japan and some other countries. In classic China fashion, this was initially bought in and then copied. An approach known as technology transfer whereby China uses its raw buying power to adopt foreign engineering, copy it and then bring it in house. The Japanese company, Kawasaki experience with CSR (China’s national rail company) is a typical example. Initially there was a contract to provide 60 complete locomotive and coach sets. Three were delivered from Japan. Six more were delivered as kits to be built in China with help from Kawasaki. The contract was then cancelled and China went on to fulfil its requirement for hundreds of trains without any external help. Kawasaki sued for breach of patent but failed because in China copyright is not really understood or recognised in law.

The second big advantage is that the state owns most of the land. The route of a high-speed rail track becomes essentially an engineering problem. Social, political or environmental issues can be virtually ignored. People may need to be moved and the government claim that they are fairly compensated for this. However, the investigations, planning and permissions needed in many other countries are superfluous. This is a powerful reduction is cost and time.

Finally, in such a large country, the manpower and funding are readily available. This is how, in the time that the UK has mostly talked about a single, short, high-speed trainline, China has built an entire network. The Chinese approach has not been without its problems though. The system currently has an accumulated debt of around $800 billion. It struggles to reduce this because tickets, although cheap by world standards, are prohibitively expensive compared to what locals can afford. The rapid expansion means that some areas are over-served and uneconomic. Widespread corruption during the construction phase has caused delays and safety concerns. Several senior officials have been dismissed over charges of bribery amounting to millions of dollars. In July 2011 two trains collided with serious loss of life. The collision exposed poor management by the railway company. This fatal accident, which happened in the midst of corruption investigations into railway officials, led to greater scrutiny in the Chinese press and the populace.

We arrived at Beijing train station with over an hour to spare. The station is immense and packed with people. We needed to queue to get in through the security scanners. They confiscated Diane’s hair cutting scissors which were 4 mm over the regulation 60 mm. After a long time waiting, we got into the queue to get to the platform. We needed our passports for this. Then we had to queue to get on the train and finally we had to find somewhere for our luggage on the packed train. Although Diane and I had reserved seats, we did not get to sit next to each other. The trains are fast and smooth but people are squashed in there like sardines. My seat was defiantly designed for someone much smaller than me. After six hours it was getting extremely uncomfortable.

But we made it and next day we were going to see the Terracotta Warriors.

Crossing the square quietly to enter the forbidden city

Back in the day, if you were an Emperor in the Ming or Qing dynasty and you wanted to ask for prosperity, longevity and good harvest for the people, then you would go to the Temple of Heaven. The temple is set in a 267 ha park, surrounded by a long wall which has gates at its cardinal points. Listed as a World Heritage site in 1998 it has been described as “a masterpiece of architecture and landscape design which simply and graphically illustrates a cosmogony of great importance for the evolution of one of the world’s great civilizations.  The symbolic layout and design of the Temple of Heaven had a profound influence on architecture and planning in the Far East over many centuries.” This all sounds wonderful and lovely for our first stop of the day. The reality is a hot, sweaty day and more crowds than you can shake a stick at. Thousands of them. We needed to queue for ages to get in and then we could barely move for people. The central temple is spectacular and quite interesting. However, before long, the hot sun and the pressing mass of humanity started to overwhelm the grandeur of the location.

Around the area are several buildings being used as museums. These are so full of people that you can barely see the display boards. When you do get a glimpse of them, everything is written in Chinese so we do not have a clue what it is about. There are four of these large museum rooms. We managed a couple of minutes in the first one before deciding to abandon the project. At this stage a cool, quiet corner for a cup of tea would have been ideal. The shade from a wall and an ice cream was the best we could do while fending off people trying to cuddle up to us in the shade.

Next stop was the Tiananmen Square. In the West, this square is often associated with the massacre of 1989. In a response to student protests, the government declared martial law. Soldiers entered Beijing with tanks and troops carrying live ammunition and firing on unarmed demonstrators and civilians. The Chinese government claimed about 241 people died (including soldiers), while independent estimates from the Red Cross, student groups, and foreign journalists range from several hundred to thousands. An unidentified civilian carrying shopping bags was filmed standing directly in front of a column of tanks leaving the square. This image became a global symbol of peaceful resistance. The Chinese government labels the event the “June Fourth Incident” and heavily censors all mentions of it online, in textbooks, and in public media. Public remembrance of the victims is strictly outlawed in mainland China. Recent political changes in Hong Kong have effectively ended the large annual vigils that used to take place there. The extensive censorship means that most young people in China are generally unaware of the Tiananmen Square protests and massacre.

We needed to show our passports and have our bags inspected before we could enter the square. There is a permanent and significant permanent police presence. Our guide warned us not to discuss or even mention any of the events. He also pointed out that attempting to make any sort of public political statement, wearing the wrong t-shirt, waving a banner or writing graffiti would lead to our arrest. So, best neutral faces on and with lips firmly zipped shut, we walked out across the square. Of course, it was all a bit of an anti-climax. Nothing happened. There were quite a few military types marching around being very military and trying to look scary. Do not photograph them. Do not laugh or even smile at them.

The square is extremely big. So big that the extent of the crowds was only really apparent when we were queuing to get in a later to get out again. In all, it took the best part of an hour to cross the square. Scorching hot and devoid of shade. There is nowhere to hide. Every single lamppost is dripping with surveillance cameras. My rough estimate was of several thousand in the square. A whole, massive networking and data routing system managing humungous quantities of video information. I could not help but wonder what they did with it all.

At the far side of the square is the entrance to The Forbidden City. This is the imperial palace which has been the residence of 24 Ming and Qing dynasty Emperors. The centre of political power in China for over 500 years from 1420 to 1924. The palace is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is the largest preserved royal palace complex still standing in the world. It may also be one of the most crowded palaces in the world. My legs were stiff and sore from our wall climb the day before. It was hot. I was thirsty and was getting worn down by the press of so many people. Is everywhere in China packed solid with crowds of people? I was struggling to engage my enthusiasm. I was even struggling to engage any interest in taking photographs. For me, this was a bad sign.

After a quick group photograph, we got shown around a few buildings. Then we were left to ourselves to wander around some more buildings. The palace is large and grandiose and spectacular. Inevitably, like a clockwork mechanism running down, we ground to a halt. We took a terribly slow walk to the next meeting place and then looked around for shade and ice cream. I should mention that I don’t like ice cream and very rarely eat any. Diane is the ice cream person. I am typically happy with some shade and a bottle of water. We found a stall selling imperial palace themed ice cream and then found a lovely place to sit. A shaded low wall without a crowd of people. Here we sat and waited for the rest of the group. Just as I was starting to regain a tiny modicum of internal balance and cooling down, a guard appeared and shooed me away from the low wall. Either it was of historical significance or I am not imperial enough to sit on it.

The evening ended with Peking Duck. Peking is the old name for Beijing but that is not because the city was renamed. The shift from Peking to Beijing is a change in spelling and transliteration systems. Peking came from older European spellings and the Chinese Postal Map Romanization system used in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Beijing uses the modern Pinyin romanization system adopted officially by China in 1958 and widely embraced internationally by the late 20th century. Peking Duck then – the Chinese do not appear to be able to get enough of this. Whole, cooked ducks are served and sold everywhere in Beijing. In the train station there are entire shops that just sell cooked, whole ducks in bags. Peking Duck should not be confused with Peeking Duck which is a duck having a surreptitious look around a corner. Obviously, I was not too keen in joining in with the duck mutilation and was even considering going off to see if we could find somewhere more suitable to us for eating. However, we went along with the macabre process. A poor duck was rolled out and a chef demonstrated how to cut it into little pieces. Why anyone would enjoy watching this is a little beyond me. Diane and I ended up with leftovers again. Some rice, some cabbage leaves and not much else. The company had promised they catered for vegetarians but this was not actually happening.

Can you see the Great Wall of China from space?

We had arranged a driver to collect us from Beijing airport. This seemed like a good idea at the time but unfortunately, she had a cold. For an hour we were trapped in the car with a sniffing, coughing and snotting driver. It was not pleasant. The noises were stomach churning but worse was the feeling that I was actively contracting a cold, influenza or even covid. None of these things happened. She did not crash the car. We arrived safely at our hotel.

Beijing Holiday Inn. An easy start for new visitors to China. Chinese hotel but with a definite nod to the west. Knifes and forks in the restaurant, coffee in the foyer. We had a couple of days before the group tour took off. This gave us time to catch up on chores, like laundry, phone updates and this blog. Also to explore the local neighbourhood at our own pace, which is terribly slow. We made the mistake of going to the Thai restaurant in the hotel. Every single dish contained meat. Even the deep-fried tofu had crab eggs on it. This high degree of meatification was a bit disappointing. I have been to China before, on business, twenty years ago. Back then I had no trouble with the food at all. Quite the contrary, the food was particularly good, varied and interesting. I discovered many new things. We have also been to Thailand more recently and the food for vegetarians was fine there as well. So why the meat-creep at this restaurant? I think part of it is to do with a kind of showing off to tourists. In many cultures, meat has a background as a luxury item. The addition of meat to every menu item is an attempt to impress visitors and demonstrate opulence. Whatever the reason, it is a complete pain to those of us trying to reduce the amount of violence in our diets.

Next day Bruce and Anita turned up. Our friends from Australia. They had come on a long-haul flight that arrived in the early hours of the morning. We said hello but mostly they just wanted to sleep it off. Diane and I mooched around close to the hotel in a gentle, unhurried way. We surfed a shopping mall, perused some pathways and pottered in a park.

Two days later, all 25 of us were in a coach on our way to the Great Wall. The whole tour group had arrived in dribs and drabs. We had eaten an evening meal together and completely forgotten each other’s names by breakfast. There is a rumour that the Great Wall of China is visible from outer space. This is a nonsense. For a start, where does outer space begin? Back in Victorian times it was posited that the wall could be seen from the moon. Why was this opinion asserted when nobody had genuinely traversed the 400,000 km to the lunar surface? I have no idea but I have noticed that factual evidence does not always need to be present in support of a good story. In fact, even from low earth orbit, the closest distance to earth that satellites fly, the wall cannot be reliably discriminated by the human eye. Various astronauts have claimed to see it although China’s first astronaut, Yang Liwei, admitted that he could not. The European Space Agency issued a press release stating that the Great Wall could be seen from 160 km altitude. The accompanying photograph turned out to be a river near Beijing. Leroy Chiao, a Chinese-American astronaut, took a photograph from the International Space Station that shows the wall. It was so indistinct that he was not entirely sure. Based on the photograph, the China Daily later reported that the Great Wall can be seen from ‘space’ with the naked eye, under favourable viewing conditions, if you know exactly where to look.

After an hour in a coach, we were definitely looking right at the wall. Close up it is thoroughly enormous. There was also a humungous car park with many, many coaches. Several sections of the remaining wall can be walked along from here. We were pointed at just one of these and told to be back by midday. The crowds were substantial. We needed to push and shove just to get close to the wall. Then it got steeper and more difficult as the crowds got worse.

The wall was never built as a single entity. Construction of some sections began as early as the 7th century BC. They were built across the historical northern borders of ancient Chinese states and Imperial China as protection against various nomadic groups from the Eurasian Steppe. Substantial parts were constructed during the Qin Dynasty and the best known sections were built during the Ming Dynasty. Despite its lack of visibility to aliens, it was voted one of the New 7 Wonders of the World in 2007. It has been made a UNESCO World Heritage Site in recognition that the defensive system of the Great Wall is one of the most impressive architectural feats in history.

We worked our way up the steep steps. Steps that were just a little too high for comfort and packed with people. It was hot and steep and arduous work. One section was particularly packed with slow-moving tourists. It reminded me of pictures I have seen of the Hillary Step on Everest when hundreds of climbers are trying to summit at the same time. Progress was desperately slow but we prevailed and eventually the crowds began to thin. More and more people dropped out as we got higher. We plodded on. Diane had gone beyond complaining and had become quiet. An extremely worrying sign. Also, we were running out of time. The final push to the summit fortress turned into a battle against ourselves and the clock. We prevailed. There was nothing much to do at the top other than take a couple of pictures and come down. The views were great. In the far distance we could see the wall zigzagging its way across distant hills. We made it back down in time but only just. Our only pause on the descent was to look at a Chinese mantis that someone was proudly showing off.

Straight after the exhausting epic of the Great Wall, we were led into the first “carpet shop” of the trip. The standard formula was there. A brief explanation, an assertion about genuine workmanship, some small demonstrations and an enormous showroom. This time it was jade but the real difference was that this time it was state sponsored. The Chinese tourist industry is remarkably good at taking tourists for all they are worth. The jade tourist shop was a fine example. It was absolutely enormous. A constant stream of coaches arriving and departing. Upstairs were numerous restaurants serving lunches to many groups. Downstairs was the biggest jewellery store I have ever seen and all dedicated to jade.

We did not want any jade so we twiddled our thumbs for a while and were happy to eventually be loaded back into the coach. The afternoon was spent at the Summer Palace. Billed as the former holiday retreat of the Qing emperors and a stunning example of Chinese garden style. Mostly what we saw there was people. Thousands of people. With the crush on the wall in the morning, we had our fill of people. Also, our legs were tired and it was too hot. We wandered round for a while to try and take some of it in and then searched for a quiet corner to sit and eat ice cream. The ice cream happened but the quiet corner was utterly impossible. There are so many people trying to be in the same place at the same time that I found it a little overwhelming.

Final part of the day was a show. It was interesting. The costumes were amazing. We were presented with half a dozen short story pieces. Some of these were classics of Chinese theatre and involved gymnastics and singing along with elaborate costumes and makeup. Fortunately, the show did not run on too late. Diane got a quick photo opportunity with one of the actors and then, back at the hotel, we were both very happy to take our tired legs to bed. I think only one other couple made it to the top of the wall so the pain was worth it.  

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 20th 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 20th 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 19th 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 19th 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 19th 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 12th 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 5th century, the city functioned briefly as capital after the fall of Angkor Thom in the 15th 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 14th 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 macaques learn thievery and bartering plus a short rant

From Brisbane we flew to Cairns to see Tim and Lorraine – Diane’s cousin. Unfortunately, Tim was in hospital for an operation. We met up with Lorraine in the evening for a pleasant meal in central Cairns. The weather here is lovely just now. Warm during the day and cool at night. A far cry from the humid heat in December when we were last here. We had booked a trip into the jungle for the next day but it was canceled at the last moment. We had a quiet day and Tim got discharged. This gave us chance for a catch up and the next evening Lorraine invited us round for dinner. A terrific curry with sweet potatoes. Tim has since needed to be readmitted but hopefully is going to work out fine.

We pressed on and flew to Darwin. Back to Darwin. This is where we first arrived in Australia. In a sense we have made a circular trip although we have yet to visit Western Australia. Nothing much happened in Darwin. We were only there a couple of nights and it was disturbingly hot. We had a stroll down to the beach to watch the sunset. Next day we flew to Bali.

We flew with Jetstar. A budget airline that are sticklers for hand luggage weight. Everything with a battery has to go in your hand luggage. Fragile things like cameras and camera lenses are best in your hand luggage. For me that is a total of around 12 kg. Usually this is not a problem. Jetstar only allow 7 kg per person and they weigh your hand luggage before you board. There is no option to pay for more hand luggage. So I ended up putting things in my checked luggage that really do not belong there – like camera lenses. Why they are so pernickety about this is beyond me. Everyone could carry much more than this and still be within the safe limits of the overhead lockers. It is not about the capacity of the aircraft – they would need to start charging based on body weight if that were the case. So I remain annoyed and try to avoid using them.

Previously, in Bali, we found ourselves in a beautiful but rather isolated hotel in the Ubud area. This time, we headed out to Uluwatu in the south-west for a change of scenery. It was indeed hugely different. Far less jungle and far more people. We rented a villa for a couple of days. This was essentially a single room building with ensuite and a kitchenette. It was genuinely nice. A small pool in the compact garden and a hammock that Diane enjoyed. We had to be careful not to leave anything outside because otherwise the monkeys would have it.

First day there, we went to visit the Uluwatu temple. This is a Balinese Hindu temple and is the only Balinese Sea Temple. Established since at least the 11th century, it is popular with tourists and monkeys. The temple covers a large area and commands some terrific view out to sea. We spent most of the afternoon wandering around. When we first entered, we were given a stern warning about the monkeys and warned to keeps things in our bags. An old woman with a stick offered to come along to protect us.

 The temple is inhabited by long-tailed macaques, notorious for snatching visitors’ belongings such as flip-flops, cameras and sunglasses. They can usually be persuaded into ransoming the items for fruit, nuts, or candies. Of course, this only encourages them to steal more.

Scientists and experts on primate behaviour have conducted studies on the monkeys. They learn the bartering behaviour. This trade is passed down to the young offspring. New groups of macaque monkeys introduced into the area quickly adapt and learn the new skill from the locals.

Next day, we went for a drive around. For a modest amount, you can hire a driver for a few hours to show you some interesting places. We started off looking at some of the beaches. The area is popular for surfing. There are many beaches but they all tend to be overlooked by cliffs. Access can be a bit tricky. First place we visited was a complete warren of narrow footways, steps and paths between bars and restaurants all packed onto the cliffside. It was quite remarkable. We did not actually find a way onto the beach but we did explore umpteen bars and other places all linked by tiny passages cut into the rock.

The next beach was a single steep set of steps down to the beach. This went through a crack in the cliff which was rather exciting. The steps were covered in sand which made them slippery. The beach itself was small and absolutely packed. Surfers, sunbathers, swimmers, people selling ice cream, surf schools, umbrella hire, cold drinks and everything else you might want on a sunny beach. People were laid out all over the place. There were more buttocks on display than I think I have ever seen. The sea was full of surfers. Sand was everywhere. Sticking to people’s feet, in their hair, in every bag, in the ice cream, everywhere. It was far too hot for us. Just the idea of lying in the grit while being baked gave me a headache. We had a brief look around and headed back up the steep stairway.

Final call for the day was a visit to the Garuda Wisnu Kencana (GWK) statue in the GWK park. This is the largest statue in Indonesia. 121 m tall. Took 28 years and $100m to build. Completed in 2018. It is impressive and obviously can be seen from far away. We took a tram from the carpark to entrance. Here we bought tickets and rode a small buggy up to the top of the hill where the statue is. After a while gazing at the remarkably large statue, we had a look inside. The statue sits on top of a multi-story building. For a fee, you can have a guided tour. We did not have enough time so Diane invested in ice cream instead.

Walking back down seemed like the sensible option, given how hot it was. We had a gentle and enjoyable stroll back through the gardens. There were a few lesser statues and a very pretty water garden.

Next day we flew to Kuala Lumpur. The start of the journey was a bit tricky. Diane was convinced that our taxi driver was falling asleep. It was my responsibility to stop him. I have no idea how that was going to work. Fortunately, nothing happened. We arrived at the airport intact although the Princess was a little frazzled. There were some good views from the aircraft. First, we flew north over Bali where we could see the big volcano. The we headed north-west. We crossed the equator without incident, eventually flying over Singapore and alongside the Malacca straits. On the approach to Kuala Lumpur, I was struck by how much industry there is in this part of Malaysia. Endless factories and warehouse units for miles. In places I could spot the odd open cast mine and some forests but mostly it was just rows and rows of buildings.

Highs and lows of feeding the rainbow lorikeets

We finally arrived in Brisbane at the end of our motorhome trip. Six weeks and nearly 6,000 km from setting off in Adelaide. That is not a hardcore trip or a massive distance. It was great fun and gave us a good taste of this part of Australia. Now we had arrived to stay with our friends Bruce and Anita for a few days. We have travelled with them and stayed with them before. They are very understanding when it comes to using their house as a base for a few days. When you are travelling long term you need to deal with things as you go. It is immensely helpful to have somewhere you can send a few things, buy stuff off Amazon and that sort of thing.

Our first job was to clear out the motorhome and then return it. We had been doing quite a lot of cooking in the motorhome. We had accumulated a pile of unused cooking stuff. Salt, herbs, flour, tinned tomatoes, dried lentils and so on. This all got donated to Anita’s kitchen. There was also a pile of bedding and a pillow. Princess likes her pillow and the one supplied with the motorhome was too thin, so we had bought a suitable one that she could put her silk travelling pillowcase on. We have not flown for over five months and it is remarkable how much rubbish you can accumulate. The next leg of our journey is many flights. We need to get back down to strictly 23 kg + 7 kg or less. This means getting a bit ruthless with our luggage.

Bruce and Anita live in a lovely part of Brisbane that backs onto a nature reserve. When we weren’t arguing over to keep, we could take walks in the woodlands close to the house. There are many wallabies and kangaroos here. And a wide variety of birds that you can hear but can be difficult to spot. Bruce took us to where some Curlew’s were living right next to the road.

After a day of sorting, we felt we had done enough and Bruce suggested we all go for a drive round. We went out to the coast. A place called Point Danger. Named by Captain Cook. It is a headland on the boundary between New South Wales and Queensland. The Captain Cook Memorial Light is here. A working lighthouse which is the first lighthouse, in the world, to use a laser light. It did not work very well. The laser was installed in 1972 and although it was massively powerful, the beam was too narrow. In a sense, the light was too precise and this made it difficult for ships to spot. A couple of year later, it was replaced by a conventional electric lamp.

This is also a good place to spot whales. As usual we did not see any although the girl in the café said there were some around earlier. The day after we were there was a big whaling event. A humpback calf was born just offshore. Something that has rarely been seen. We missed all that but we did watch the surfers for a while. This is a famous surfing area. We also watched a dredger at work. Big storms move the sand away from the beach. So, they dredge it up and move it back. The beach is big business and needs to stay in the correct place.

We drove north along the beach to the Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary. This is fairly compact sanctuary. Closer to a zoo than a wildlife park. First thing we saw were some koalas. We know better than to call them bears. I imagine these are always a crowd pleaser in zoos. As we arrived, they were moving around quite a lot. Koalas can sleep up to 20 hours a day. To see one moving at all can be quite rare. For a mammal, the koala has a disproportionately small brain. They only eat eucalyptus leaves which are toxic. It is strange existence but they seem quite happy.  

We walked through a couple of bird houses. There were some cockatiels, some parrots and a few Gang-gang parakeets. This was easy bird photography. They sit still. I take a picture. Everyone happy.

The koalas may have been happy but the bush-tailed rock wallaby looked thoroughly unhappy. Well, he looked unhappy to me. We had been warned to look out for this type of wallaby when we were out at Kings Canyon but we never saw even a hint of one. I imagined the wallaby to be wishing he was out hopping around the rocks and over the mountains.

Further on were the crocodiles. I doubt these creatures have emotions, just an on-off switch. They just lie there perfectly still and quiet while thinking about killing.

At 4pm it was lorikeet feeding time. The zoo does this every day. It is open to the public at the entrance to the zoo. For a small contribution, you can have a metal tray which will be topped up with a honey and milk mixture. Same time, every day, lorikeets from all around the city know to come here for feeding. Great flocks of them swooping round in a rainbow coloured murmuration. There was a great flock of people too, all holding metal bowls and eventually, there was a great coming together of people and birds. Bruce and Diane both had bowls but it was not going well. For twenty minutes they had both been lifting their bowls skywards in the hope of an avian visitation. Nothing was happening. They were becoming despondent. What was going wrong? Elsewhere, people were being mugged by masses of multi-coloured parrots. In desperation, they moved to a fresh location and refreshed the honey and milk in their bowls. This did the trick. First one bird, then another, then more. I think the lorikeets needed to decide if Bruce and Diane were dangerous or not. Once declared safe, they were in.

We rounded off the day with a visit to Currumbin Beach as the sun was setting. From here we had a good view of the main business district of downtown Brisbane. I photographed a Jetstar aircraft passing overhead – little realising that they were soon to become my least favourite budget airline.

Next day, with our radically lighter luggage, we were flying to Cairns.

Beaches and tracks and getting lost

We took a steady drive up the coast of New South Wales. It was relaxed and easy. We drove for a few hours each day, found a campsite and then went for a short wander around. Usually on a beach.

The day we left John and Sally in Sydney, we drove up the main road, got bored and followed a small road that ran close to the shore. We had hoped for a sea view but unfortunately the ocean, although close, was completely invisible behind a large wall of bushes. We did, however, find a ferry. This was quite exciting – we enjoy a ferry. This particular one was another small, cable ferry that took us from the wonderfully named Mungo Brush to Bombah Point. Shortly after this we arrived at the Sandbar Beach Campsite. This was indeed situated on a sandbar and appeared to be exclusively populated by surfers in VW camper vans. We tried to fit in as best we could. A kookaburra, sitting on an old gum tree, laughed at us.

In the evening, we strolled down to the beach and watched the surf for a while. We also spotted a Sea Eagle. I initially thought it was a White-tailed Sea Eagle and was wondering about its connection with the birds we had seen in the Norwegian Fjords and off Scotland. It was however a White-bellied Sea Eagle which is smaller, has a white belly and is native to Australia. Occasionally, I think I am becoming a birder, but I am not. Fortunately, I have Google to help. Back at the campsite we lit a campfire to demonstrate to the surfer dudes what cool hipsters we were.

Next day, smelling faintly of woodsmoke, we continued our odyssey northwards. After several more failed attempts at finding an interesting coast road we ended up at Port Macquarie. Here we used another little ferry to cross the Hastings River and continue north close to the ocean. The road became a dirt track and we were forced to turn back. We could manage a few easy tracks in the van (although we were not supposed to) but this was looking like AWD territory. Instead, we followed a larger, sealed road that was a bit of a long way around. This road had roadworks. A lot of roadworks. Roadworks with diversions along dirt tracks and over rough, slow surfaces. We might have been as well with the original dirt track.

By the evening, we arrived at another campsite just off the beach. Our evening was a pleasant walk down to some rocks and back.

In the morning, we attempted to drive inland. Perhaps we could approach Brisbane through some hills to the south rather than along the busy coast. Our road turned into a single-track road and then a dirt track. I was thinking, next time, we will hire a 4×4. The question now, was how far do we try and get along the track before we capitulate to our lack of traction. We were crossing a small range of hills. If it rained now, I suspect the van’s basic road tyres would just start spinning in the mud. Over the hill and down into a valley where we rejoined a tarmac road.

With that problem solved, we had to deal with the next one. We were fast running out of fuel. This is not like me. I usually make sure we refill as soon as the tank is half empty. The previous day we had driven a long diversion and today we had not seen any signs of habitation before plunging off into the hills. Now we were on less than quarter of a tank and out in the middle of nowhere. The landscape was lovely. Rolling hills, green forests, fields ready to be grazed but no people. Just the occasional farmhouse. We pressed on and arrived at a small village. After a little poking around we found a small, unmanned diesel pump that. 24-hour automated service. I confidently tackled it with my favourite debit card and failed. “Service unavailable”. What does that mean? I tried several more times and was forced to admit defeat.

From Google maps, the next village looked larger and was only a couple of score kilometres away. We set off. Two kilometres later, we came across a sign saying the road was closed further ahead. There were also some details about times and dates. Some cars drove past us. Maybe we could get far enough to find fuel. Twenty minutes later, we were looking at a road blocked by cones with some diggers working just beyond. A very friendly workman came over and explained to us that the road really was closed. The friendliness of Austrians continues to impress me. Elsewhere the workmen would be more likely to ignore you or, just possibly, give you a pitying glance while shaking their head.

Back at the very small, very old and very battered looking diesel pump, I tried and failed again. In a fit of desperation, I tried my Amex card and much to my surprise, it worked. I only have an Amex card because, by using it, I can maintain a reasonable credit score. If your credit score is low, as mine was, it can cause problems with all sorts of things where your financial reliability is important – such as hiring a car. I rarely use it because many places don’t accept it. Nonetheless, here we were, in a completely obscure place and it was saving us. “Always carry at least two different types of card” might be good travel advice.

Now that we were back on the road, I didn’t want to risk the dirt track over the hills again. We could not continue inland because of the roadworks. The only remaining direction was south-east, back to the coast and to just about where we had set off from in the morning. We chose a different campsite and had a short walk to look at some fruit bats hanging in trees.

Our penultimate day in the motorhome saw us following the main road north but with distractions. There are signposted “Tourist Routes” that loop off from the M1 and take you on the path more scenic. This is a promising idea and we followed several such loops. We found some small, interesting roads. We passed some lakes, followed a river and drove through some pleasant countryside. We also got lost a couple of times. Occasionally we would arrive at a junction where there were no signs for the tourist route. I needed to guess so I just went off down the road that looked most interesting. This is possibly not the best algorithm. Eventually we were parked up at a campsite by the beach, again. We took an evening stroll to look at the waves. Saw a few surfers and a few fishermen and enjoyed our last evening camping for a while.

Tomorrow we would arrive in Brisbane.

An unexpected tour of Sydney, remarkable birds and great wine

Sydney, population ~6m, is the capital of New South Wales. The largest and most expensive city in Australia. Here you can find Botany Bay. Historically famous for Captain Cook’s first landing and later for the establishment of a penal colony. Also, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, famous for being extremely big. And the Sydney Opera House, famous for looking a bit weird.

We arrived late afternoon and met up with our friends the lovely Sally and John. We first met this adventurous couple in Antarctica where they were some of the brave few people doing kayaking trips while the rest of us were safe in the Zodiac RHIBs. They graciously invited us to stay a few days and we were happy to escape the cosy confines of our little motorhome for a short break.

Our original plan had been to skip past Sydney. Tackling a large city without prior knowledge can be a bit daunting. We figured that we could drive over the bridge, photograph the opera       and be done with it. John and Sally, long term Sydney residents, were dismissive of this notion and suggested a day trip to the city under Sally’s guidance would be more appropriate. They were, of course, completely correct. The next day, we set off, on foot, for the train station.

It was a leisurely ride into town on the train. The first thing I noticed on alighting was a car that had been smashed by a boulder. Apparently, the large rock was dropped intentionally, from a tall crane, some 22 years ago. I could see no go reason for this so I assumed, correctly, that it was art.

We wandered around the city centre for a while taking in some of the architecture and getting a feel for the place. The Sydney Central Business District (CBD) has more high-rise buildings that anywhere else in Australia. I was certainly impressed as to how much glass was on display.

We were struck by how clean the city was. Australia in general is an exceptionally clean place. Hardly any rubbish lying around. A stark contrast from many other countries and wonderful to see. Often a major city attracts litter and other garbage along with beggars and buildings in a state of disrepair. Sydney however feels cared for and that makes visiting comfortable and more enjoyable.

We boarded a local ferry to Manly. This took us right across the bay. A lovely, relaxed way to take in sights of the city. From the boat we could see all the major landmarks, large cruise ship, several other ferries, a few islands and open water beyond the bay. In Manly, we took a short walk to the beach and watched apprentice surfers for a while. Over coffee, Sally explained how she met John here. Then we wandered back to the ferry terminal and got a boat to the opera house. Along the way, I spotted an Australian Navy aircraft carrier.

The Sydney Harbour Bridge is right next to the opera house. We could clearly see bridge walkers. People who have paid to put on harnesses and walk right over the top of the steel bridge arch. I image the views are great but it is quite a trip and takes over three hours.

We looked around the opera house. I was a little surprised to find that the roof looks quite different from close by. To be honest, I had never studied the roof before but I always had an impression of it being big and white. While it is certainly big, the tiles are off-white and quite intricately patterned. The remarkable design was from a Danish architect, Jørn Utzon. While he undoubtably came up with one of the most striking buildings in the world, the story of how it was built by 1973 is fascinating and not without problems. Ultimately, the project came in at ten years late and 1,400% over budget.

The Sydney Opera House opened the way for the immensely complex geometries of some modern architecture. The design was one of the first examples of the use of computer-aided design to design complex shapes. The design of the roof was tested on scale models in wind tunnels to establish the pressure distribution around the roof shape in high winds. The design is also one of the first in the world to use araldite to glue precast structural elements together. The air-conditioning plant, the largest in Australia at the time, uses the innovative idea of harnessing the harbour water to create a water-cooled heat pump system that is still in operation today.

There are a set of steps from the opera house down into the harbour. These are closed off by some steel railings but you will often see crowds of tourists packed around them. The reason is a wild long-nosed fur seal that often rests on the steps and has become quite famous. He is called Benny as in “Benny on the steps” – a pun on the title of an Elton John song and a fine example of Australian humour.

We did not get to see inside the opera house but I think, should we ever be back this way, that it would be great to attend a performance there.

We wandered off around the botanical gardens. The garden is quite remarkable. All the more so for being in a city centre. The weather had been steadily improving throughout the day. Earlier it was quite blustery and raining occasionally. As we pottered around the plants, the sun came out making it pleasantly warm.

In an older part of the city, we came across some older architecture housing the very expensive shops. We also found a statue of Queen Victoria looking thoroughly unamused.

Next day, we all drove out to Lake Macquarie. John and Sally have a very comfortable holiday home here. It makes a beautiful contrast to Sydney. Quiet, natural and peaceful. Lake Macquarie is not really a lake. It is Australia’s largest permanent saltwater coastal lagoon, located in the Hunter Region about 150 km north of Sydney. We spent most of the day walking around the lake.

The lake is popular for sailing, powerboating, water skiing, fishing and swimming. Fortunately, this does not seem to disturb the wildlife too much and there was an abundance of birds. We walked out to a spit of land where there was an Osprey nest. On the way we saw a black swan and some pelicans. There was also a few Noisy Miner Birds, a native Australian honeyeater. And a few small Little Pied Cormorants. The osprey nest appeared empty, initially. We waited a while and then saw a couple of small heads looking out. Then we spotted the parents. Possibly coming back from a fishing trip. All was well.

Elsewhere around the lake, we saw the inevitable Laughing Kookaburras, some Egrets and many Magpie Larks. There was also a few groups of Rainbow Lorikeet. These are the most fantastically brightly coloured parrots.

The Hunter valley is not just home to some remarkable countryside but it is also the location of many great vineyards. It would have been churlish to leave without exploring a few of these so this is what occupied us on our last day. Unfortunately, the weather came in cool  and rainy again. Nonetheless, we dressed warmly – “rugged up” is the Australian expression. Has nothing to do with rugs. And we had a wonderful, relaxed time exploring the countryside and drinking wine. Two of my favourite things to do.

How to catch a bandit and when to fit snow chains

From Melbourne, we decided to head up into the mountains for a few days. We had heard mention of snowy mountains and ski areas. Might be worth a look. We set off in a vaguely north-east direction. First point of interest was the Powers Lookout. A rocky escarpment high above the King Valley. The hideout of Harry Power, a notorious, gentleman bushranger of the 1860s who reputedly befriended a young Ned Kelly before leading him into a life of crime. Power hid up here for 8 years but was eventually caught. For all the bandit history, the views were terrific.

Next day, we arrived in Harrietville and discovered a barrier across the road. We needed snow chains to go any further. There was no snow. The weather was warm and sunny. Barely a cloud in the sky but nonetheless we needed snow chains. The helpful woman at the barrier directed us to a shop to hire chains for the day. I asked if she got a kickback from the chain shop but she just smiled at me. At the shop they were happy to provide chains. They did not bother to show us how to fit them because we were not going to use them. In fact, we would drop them off at their sister shop in Omeo in about two hours. Back at the barrier, we got waved through and off we went up the mountain.

The drive up to Hothem Heights was uneventful. We eventually found some snow on the hillside but not very much off it. Hothem is a ski resort that is upside down. The resort is at the top of the hill and the slopes all go down from it. We spotted one working chair lift and many that were clearly closed because of lack of snow on the pistes. This should be about the snowiest time of the year but it is not working out very well.

On the way down, we saw a wombat. We had noticed several dead wombats by the roadside but this one was alive. I stopped the van and was lucky enough to get a couple of pictures before it wandered off into the undergrowth. Wombats are nocturnal, so I was particularly fortunate to see one at all. The presence of wombats can be verified by their distinctive square faeces. They are the only animal in the world that deposits curiously cubical crap. Their primary defence is their toughened rear hide. Most of the posterior is made of cartilage. It has no tail. When attacked, wombats dive into a tunnel, using their rumps to block a pursuing attacker. Urban legend has it that wombats sometimes allow an intruder to force its head over the wombat’s back so that it can use its powerful legs to crush the skull of the predator against the roof of the tunnel. A group of wombats is called a wisdom.

It was getting late in the afternoon. We pulled into the only campsite for miles around and were appalled to be charged three times the normal amount to stay overnight. The woman explained that this was peak season although the mostly deserted campsite appeared to contradict this. In the evening, we walked down to the river and saw a platypus swimming around. This was at least some compensation for the exorbitant campsite fees. We watched it for a good hour. Swimming about in an area of slack water. Diving every few minutes to eat weed. Unfortunately, we never got a really unobstructed view of the platypus but we had at least seen one.

Next day, we headed north again, towards the mountains again. This time we were completely thwarted by the snow chain restrictions. Every road appeared to require that we had chains. The was still no snow on the road. Or any of the surrounding hills. There was no obvious place to hire chains so although the restriction was not enforced by barriers, we chose to adhere to the rules. The consequences in terms of insurance and the van rental agreement were dire if anything bad happened. We ended up going through the Namadgi National Park. The road was a bit rough in places but it was a lovely drive. To avoid Canberra, we made a sharp righthand turn and set off for the coast.

The next day, while driving north towards Jarvis Bay, we saw a sign for the Jerrawangala Lookout. It was approaching lunchtime, so we set off in the hope of finding somewhere nice to stop. The sign did not actually state how far it was to the lookout. The road became very narrow with many potholes. It turned steeply up a hillside and became more of a dirt track. The track twisted and wriggled its way up onto an exposed ridge and then became a very narrow path between trees. Eventually, we arrived at a small car park with picnic tables. A thin path and walkway took us to the lookout. It was spectacular and worth the half-hour drive up the hill.

In the evening we camped on the south side of Jarvis Bay. It was a pleasant, warm evening. At the far side of the bay we could see a lighthouse built on top of some magnificent cliffs basking in the evening sun. This looked like a good place to visit. We could even spend some time on top of the cliffs looking for whales. At this time of year, whales are travelling north from Antarctica to the breeding areas in warmer seas. Next day, we headed in the general direction of the cliffs. We found a signpost for the Point Perpendicular Lighthouse and then we arrived at a military checkpoint for a weapons range. This was a bit unexpected but we talked to guard anyhow. I was anticipating that we would be turned around however, we were allowed past. We needed to leave our details and promise to stay on the track. A few kilometres further on, we arrived at the lighthouse. This is a lovely building that was an active lighthouse for a hundred years. In 1993 it was retired in favour of a modern, unmanned light, on a metal framework. We met some climbers. They were abseiling off the top of the cliffs and then climbing back up again. They reported seeing whales close to the cliffs an hour earlier. We spent some time wandering around the cliff tops and staring out to sea but saw nothing.

Further north, we stopped for the night and walked up to a whale watching platform. This was a nicely built circular platform on the hillside. Unfortunately, the trees had grown and it was almost impossible to spot the ocean beyond them.

The day before arriving in Sydney, we followed some spectacular coast roads including the Sea Cliff Bridge. This juts out from the cliff so that you are driving directly above the waves. Many people were parked around here to take photographs. The road then climbed steeply up to the Royal National Park and directly beyond that, was Sydney.

High earning little blue fairy penguins

We finally arrived in Melbourne. Diane has a cousin that lives here. Michael. And his wife Debbie. They have not met Diane for thirty years or so. I think she was a little bit nervous. Will we all like each other? Can we even get on for a few days? There was no need to worry. Michael has just retired. He is laid back in a very Australian fashion. Friendly and easy going. Debbie flits around more nervously but is very cheerful and chatty. The rest of the afternoon was mostly about catching up on family affairs. Diane has a lot of relatives and carefully keeps tabs on them all. There was a lot to be discussed. I kept up as best I could.

Next day, we all went to Phillip Island. This is a popular tourist area to the south of Melbourne, known for its beautiful beaches, wildlife experiences, relaxed seaside atmosphere and the penguin parade. It is also where Michael and Debbie have a holiday home. We took in a few sights on the way and stopped to eat chips by the bridge onto the island. The holiday home was lovely. A spacious and comfortable three-bedroom bungalow. We stopped there briefly and then set off to look around the island.

First stop was The Nobbies. This is the extreme south-west of the island where there are some lookout points and boardwalks. Here we got some excellent views of the rugged coastline, crashing waves and sea birds. We also spotted a tiny Blue Penguin in its burrow. Also known as fairy Penguins or Little Penguins. Most of the Fairy Penguins are out at sea during the day. They come back in the evening and walk up the beach to their burrows. The penguin parade. Visitors come to sit in a specially built viewing area to watch the birds coming home. We worked our way around the coast and along a dirt road. A wallaby was spotted along with several Cape Barren geese.

Then we arrived at the Penguin Parade. Diane and I had been considering buying tickets for a seat. That was until we saw the horrific magnitude of the commercialisation. Several thousand people come here every evening. They are bussed in from the mainland. A process which regularly causes traffic jams. A variety of options are available. None of them cheap. For $34 you get a basic seat where you will be looking past many people to see a small penguin. For $130 you get to visit a smaller, less crowded beach. All 2,000+tickets are regularly sold out and if we had really wanted to be there on a Saturday night we should have bought tickets days ago. I found the whole thing rather disturbing. A few people on the beach watching the penguins arrive is one thing. This mass tourist event was something else altogether. The colony supports about 32,000 little penguins so, rough calculation, each penguin earns $1,350 per year. I would cheer the penguins if they decided to go ashore elsewhere.

Next day we continued our exploration of Phillip Island. We saw Black Swans, Purple Swamphens and more Cape Barren Geese with chicks.  We visited the $50m Penguin Parade visitor centre. You are allowed in for free during the day. Here there are souvenir shops, a café and some displays. Everything was very modern, well presented and paid for by the little blue penguins. Finally, we popped in at the Phillip Island Grand Prix circuit. This dates back to 1928 and has a venerable history of motorcycle and car races. Currently, it gets used for the MotoGP race series. Back at the house, we admired their three boats and Michael showed us his collection of fishing rods. He has at least 20 rods with reels. Possibly twice as many. I know nothing of fishing and have no idea why he would need so many – but we were impressed.

On Monday, Debbie had to go to work. Michael, clearly enjoying his retirement, took us on a tour of Melbourne city centre. It was a warm, sunny day with a clear blue sky to highlight the towering, glass clad buildings. These appear to compete to be the tallest or to have the weirdest design.

Nestled in between these modern architectural constructs are a few much older buildings. The Flinders Street Railway Station dates back to 1854. The current building, completed in 1909, is a cultural icon of Melbourne. The distinctive and eclectic Edwardian architecture, prominent dome, arched entrance, tower and clocks is one of the city’s most recognisable landmarks. Its grand, somewhat exotic character led to the popular idea that the design was actually intended for Mumbai’s Victoria Terminus and vice versa. Myth has it that the designs got accidentally swapped in the post. Right next to the station is a very nice old pub where we stopped for a drink. We looked at the river, looked at an old shopping mall with extremely expensive shops and we stopped for another drink at the casino. In the evening, Michael, who use to be a professional chef, knocked up a terrific meal with egg-fried rice and baked sweet potatoes.

Next morning, we thanked Michael and Debbie for their wonderful hospitality and pointed our little motorhome towards Sydney.

The amazing jumping seals and how we missed the twelve apostles

We were driving along the south coast of Australia. The weather was not too great and it rained a lot. We were taking our time and investigating interesting places as we went along. Just past Robe, we came across a path to a bird watching platform. As we parked up, we spotted some sort of Kite. This was looking hopeful. A twenty-minute walk brought us to the platform in the middle of a swamp. The rain had become a steady drizzle. A black swan met us. It looked a bit soggy. Drizzle in a swamp will do this to you. The swan is the national symbol of Western Australia. This one seemed unimpressed at being so famous and drifted off into the reeds.

Further down the road we came across a sign to a seal colony. The drizzle had eased and was more of a strong mist. We followed an interesting path with view across a large bay. This brought us, eventually, to a small boat house where seals were playing. Mostly just juvenile seals and very engrossed in their play. It was amazing to watch and very uplifting to see what an enjoyable time they were having. Just offshore a bunch of seals appeared to be having a jumping competition. Flinging themselves out of the water and high into the air. Often launching themselves clear of the sea. Closer to us, on a small partially collapsed jetty was another game. The seals were fighting over prime spot on the jetty. Taking turns to knock each other off. Then posing, momentarily, before being pushed off by another aspirant. We left smiling. It was truly amazing to observe such an expression of the joy of life.

We were heading to Melbourne but still had plenty of time so we took a diversion. We drove due north up to a mountain range in the Grampians National Park. It was interesting to see some hills and made a change from staring out at the sea for hours. Diane love seascapes and would always choose the coast road. I prefer mountains and really don’t understand why people get so misty eyed about a few waves. In this instance we might have been as well staying near the beach. Mist covered the mountains with a solid grey blanket. The road climbed up and down but we could not really see the hills. It was more that we just got a sense they were there.

After a bit of aimless wandering, we arrived at Halls Gap and suddenly found ourselves surrounded by tourists. Since leaving Kangaroo Island we had seen very few people. The campsites had mostly been empty. Halls Gap is a popular area and today was the first day of the school holidays. Suddenly, we were on a packed campsite. Typical of a British bank holiday, the rain was more enthusiastic than ever. The campsite was partially flooded and much of the grassy areas were reduced to mud. Children were running around everywhere. Muddy, wet, excited children. I could imagine how pleased their parents would be when they arrived back at the small family tent all smiling and filthy.

Next day we headed back to the coast. Dropping out of the hills we finally left the mist and the worst of the rain behind us and arrived at the start of the Great Ocean Road. This is actually a war memorial. Built by returned soldiers between 1919 and 1932, it is dedicated to soldiers killed during World War I. It is the world’s largest, or at least, longest, war memorial and a massive tourist attraction. Much of the road hugs the coastline along the Surf Coast and the Shipwreck Coast. It provides extensive views over Bass Strait and the Southern Ocean.

Right from the start, the Great Ocean Road was one of the world’s most scenic drives. Especially if you like staring, misty eyed, at waves. It was also particularly challenging. In places, just a rough, single lane track cut precipitously into the cliff face. These days, it is an easy and safe drive unless you get too engaged with the view and forget to look where you are going.

We visited a petrified forest. I was intrigued. How does a tree turn to stone? It is possible although exceedingly rare. The organic tree cells get replaced by stone via a mineralisation process. This is not what we found. What we were looking at were some rock formations that looked a little as if they had been trees once. In reality, they were created by limestone dissolving in rainwater and filtering through a porous rock layer underneath. A little like the formation of stalagmites. The tree shapes are then exposed by erosion.

Further along the coast we came across London Bridge and the Twelve Apostles. These are all stacks. Towers of rock sticking out of the sea. The remains of coastal erosion. The coast here is steep, sandstone cliffs. Very rugged and pretty. The Twelve Apostles, in particular, are a bit of a tourist draw. We very nearly stopped but then saw the car park, the coaches and the crowds. Driving just a little way further we could follow a small track to the cliff edge. Here we got a fantastic view of the cliffs and had the place to ourselves.

Mostly birds but also a giant Lobster

Leaving Kangaroo Island behind us, we set off for Melbourne. There was plenty of time. We wanted to explore a little of Australia on the way.

First, we needed to do a long loop inland around Lake Alexandria. This was pleasant, uneventful driving. Quiet roads through rolling hills and woodlands. Coming back to the coast, the land became a lot flatter. We walked on the beach and watched some sea birds. We also spotted some cormorants and honeyeater on a fence.

The next couple of days were quiet. Not many people around. Not much happening. Quiet days and quiet evenings. The sea and the birds always ensured there was something to look at. We camped by a lake and got visited by Purple Swamphens. Funny looking birds with the most enormous feet. No doubt these are handy for walking across floating swamp plants. I found myself watching them carefully to see how they avoided tripping over their own toes. This was more interesting that it sounds.

Pelicans provided the interest for one particularly good sunset. This was another camp by a lake where we spent the evening watching Pelicans silhouetted by a fantastic red and orange backdrop.  There seemed to be a lot of Pelicans around. Next day, we found even more pelicans. At lunch, we stopped at a delightful place overlooking an inland lake. I took a short walk around and stumbled across the biggest flock of pelicans I have ever seen. A hundred or more all tightly rafted together in the centre of the lake. As best I could tell they were feeding. Possibly they had just stumbled on a large school of fish. It was all over in a few minutes. They split up and flew off in different directions.

That evening, we arrived in Kingston, home of Larry the Lobster. Now we knew that we were really getting to see the sights of Australia.

Many interesting animals and a few squished ones

We stayed a few days in an apartment in Adelaide before collecting our motorhome. A Mercedes Sprinter conversion that made the cabin on the Ghan feel spacious. It is, however, well suited to our purposes. The van is little bigger than some cars. This type of vehicles often find use as delivery vans. I have become a white van man. We can tackle cities, use ordinary car parks and generally get around quite easily. If we do not feel like sleeping in the motorhome we can easily park up at a motel or similar. It offers a lot of advantages even if you do not sleep in it every night. For a start, you always have a backup. If you cannot find somewhere to stay then you can sleep in the van. Means you can be a bit more adventurous in exploring because you do not need to ensure finding accommodation for every night. You also have somewhere to cook or make a brew wherever you go. And you have a toilet and shower in case of emergencies. The bed can be perfect for a mid-afternoon power-nap if you start feeling sleepy.


We headed north to the Barossa Valley, a famous wine making area. It rained. It rained as we drove there and it rained when we arrived. It rained all day so the next day, when it was still raining, we pushed off and headed further north.

Ended up in a curious one-horse town called Morgan on the Murray River. One general store, a campsite, a few houses, two bars and a paddle steamer. There was also a ferry across the river. We had passed from the lush, temperate grasslands of Barossa into a much wilder, semi-desert area in just a couple of hours. The change was quite remarkable. Lovely place to spend a day. The 1907 paddle steamer, called Canally, had been dug out of the mud in 1998 and restored by a group of local enthusiasts. They were clearly enormously proud of it and quite justifiably. We took the ferry and explored a nature reserve on the other side of the river.

Back to Barossa, where it was still raining. We spent a night there, visited a vineyard and then headed for Kangaroo Island. We hopped onto the massively over-priced ferry first thing in the morning.

First thing that struck us about Kangaroo Island was how many dead kangaroos there were. Dozens of them. Roadkill. Incredibly sad to see so many carcasses scattered along the roadside. Dead Kangaroo Island would probably not go so well with the tourist board.
We stopped to climb a series of metal steps up Prospect Hill. It was a good climb but well worth the effort for the view. On the way down, I spotted our first live kangaroo of Kangaroo Island way off in the distance, hopping across a field. It occurred to me that kangaroos might be presented as proof for the non-existence of God. The reasoning would involve something about God’s creatures and the necessity for intelligent design. However, something as ridiculous as a kangaroo that bounces as a means of locomotion, defies any notion of intelligent design and could only come about through a totally random phenomenon like evolution.


We spotted a sign for a seal colony. Following this, we came to a car park where we could pay to go and visit the seals. We bought tickets because we quite like seals. I spotted a lovely blue Superb Fairywren hopping around. The weather was cool and sunny. There were very few people about. Ideal seal visiting conditions. A series of wooden walkways brought us down to the beach. There were a few juvenile seals here. Most of the adults were off on extended fishing trips. The disaffected youths had been left behind and were larking around in the surf. It was a pleasant way to spend an hour.


On the road back we saw an echidna. This was particularly exciting. We had only seen them in zoos before. Funny little creatures, sometimes called Spiny Anteaters, that snuffle around in the leaf litter eating ants and termites. This one appeared unconcerned by us and I managed to grab a couple of photographs before it slunk off into the undergrowth. Echidnas are monotremes. Mammals that lay eggs. Male echidnas have a four headed penis. It is 7 cm long and covered in penile spines. In the mating season, a single female may be followed by a “train” of up to ten males. Youngest at the end of the line. Later, when the egg hatches, the baby echidna, a puggle, remains in its mother’s pouch for 50 days feeding from the pores of two milk patches. The mother builds a nursery burrow once the puggle starts to develop spines. Here the puggle lives, being fed every few days, for seven months until weaned. Random evolution for the win.


Late afternoon, we rolled up at a campsite at the far side of the island. This proved to be a bit of a wildlife hotspot. Kangaroos and Cape Barren Geese roamed the camping area. Koalas watched us from the trees and many types of small bird skipped between the bushes. We stayed here a couple of nights. This gave me plenty of time to wander around and attempt to photograph the wildlife.


Koalas are another fascinating and strange example of Aussie wildlife. They spend a lot of time up a gum tree doing nothing. From a distance, they often appear like a beach ball in a furry sack stuck in the tree branches. I have yet to see one move more than just the gentle stretch of an arm. They sleep, very contentedly, in a tree. If I tried this then I am pretty sure I would doze off and fall out. They must have special types of muscles that they can lock off.


Next day was a bit rainy, windy and occasionally, stormy. We continued our exploration of Kangaroo Island. It is all very well organized for touristing. Drive a while, spot a brown sign, pull into the car park, follow the boardwalks. This technique brought us to a wide variety of viewpoints, strange looking rocks, light houses, caves and a large grain silo with a kangaroo painted on it.
In the evening, we camped close to the ferry terminal. Fairy penguins come ashore here. We went out just after nightfall for a look round but failed to spot any.

How to mine opals with the troglodytes of Coober Pedy

The train noises lulled me to sleep as the movement of the carriage gently rocked the bed. Unfortunately, the motion had the opposite effect on my Princess. Despite ear plugs and a glass of port, she barely got a wink. It would have suited both of us if the train did not move at night. Although I find sleeping on a moving train fun, I would have preferred to have seen the country that we were travelling through. For me, one of the joys of train travel is that it joins places up in my mind. An aircraft trip is completely dislocating. A jolt. Travelling overland you can see the gradual changes in vegetation, the terrain, even the weather. You can experience how far it is from one place to another. You feel the journey and you comprehend how distant locations relate to each other. I mentioned this to Diane but I suspect there was a royal hating for my cheerfulness after a good night’s sleep.

Breakfast was particularly good. A Moroccan dish involving eggs baked in a rich and spicy tomato sauce served with toasted flatbread. Diane opted for a poached egg and was rather disgruntled with the soggy thing on white toast that arrived. Princess is very particular about her eggs. She likes them extraordinarily well done. Cooked to death, would be a fair description. Any part of the egg that has not solidified she refers to as slime. Between the slimy egg and the lack of sleep it seemed best for me to not talk at all. I watched the scrubby bushes go past outside while Diane concentrated on her cup of tea. Fortunately, the long silence was terminated by our arrival at the wonderfully named Coober Pedy. This is an opal mining town in the middle of nowhere and definitely an interesting place. For a start, its primary inhabitants are troglodytes.  

Before getting into town, we were coached out to an area called “The Breakaways”. The first thing that struck me about this rather desolate area was, Wow, this looks like the Badlands from Mad Max. Turns out these genuinely are the Badlands. Mad Max was filmed here and the locals are very proud of the fact. One of the proud local guides took us on a short walk around. He showed us some of the flora and the explained the desert scenery with its mesas and buttes. An hour or so later we got back to the coaches where cold champagne was being served. This improved the mood of my Princess no end.  

On the way into Coober Pedy we spotted a black snake crossing the road. Not sure what type it was but I liked to think it was deadly. Google thinks it may be a red-bellied black snake. Not very deadly but could still spoil your day. We also passed many, many areas of dirt mounds a few metres high. These were mine shafts. Narrow and not very deep. Drilled to test for opals. Most of them were abandoned. There were hundreds of these. Possibly thousands. Almost no cultivation, no fields, no vegetation. But, in every direction, as far as you could see, mine shafts.

We arrived in town and the coach turned off the road and into a trench. A big, deep trench. Three times the height of the coach. We disembarked at the bottom and stepped through a metal doorway into a mine. A long slope brought us down into the belly of the beast where we found tables laid for lunch. We were in a deep old mine that had been taken over by the Ghan company. Here they had built, in the complex of tunnels, a large restaurant and a sort of demonstration mine.

First came lunch. Diane and I got salad and falafel. We always get salad and falafel. It is quite tasty, don’t complain. There was plenty of wine. Everyone else got served slabs of black, strangely smelling meat. I imagined that this was some weird alien creature that had been hunted down in the Badlands by bald headed warriors wielding streel spears and riding customised dune buggies. It was served with potatoes and carrots.

After lunch, we went mining. Not real mining, obviously, although we were in a genuine mine so there was a level of authenticity. We looked at some tunnels, hammered lumps of dirt from the wall and checked for opals using a UV light. I found a display of explosives but was not allowed to use them. Eventually, having mined long enough to be quite sure that it was not the life for us, we went off to look at some houses. The first miners discovered that, deep in the mines, the temperature remained blissfully cool. Outside it can hit 40°C on a regular basis. Underground, a nice 20°C or so. No air-conditioning required. So, they dug a mine and lived in it and carried on mining. Eventually, they would have a spacious, comfortable house insulated from the climate above. Perfectly dark for sleeping at night and no chance of being disturbed by noise from your neighbours (unless they were letting off explosives). In the morning, after breakfast, you would go to work by simply walking down the stairs from your living room.

This troglodytic existence continues to this day. Most people live underground. Coober Pedy, on the surface, looks a little like a deserted quarry. If it were not for what appears to be a deserted spaceship, there would no evidence of people at all.

Back at the Ghan, we were greeted with snacks and more drinks. This made for a very pleasant interlude before finally boarding the train for the last leg. Tomorrow morning we would arrive in Adelaide after travelling through the night again.

The Ghan, 28 carriages long.

How to make more emus

Last thing to do at Uluru was to watch the sunrise. Diane had another lie-in while I fussed around in the dark trying to avoid making too much noise. There were few people on the coach. Sunrise at Uluru was losing out to a lazy morning and a relaxed breakfast. Still, we few were resolved. Uluru has a reputation for being photogenic in the early morning.

We drove out to the sunrise viewing area. I kid you not, there is a place dedicated to watching the sunrise at Ulura. A series of wooden walkways arranged at strategically different hights on top of a small mound. People from many other groups were already there. By the time the sun poked above the horizon, I think there were a good hundred sightseers.

We all held our breath and then nothing happened. It really was a big disappointment. I am not sure what I was expecting but there should at least have been a few colours. Something to give a sense of drama, meaning and purpose to such an early morning. Perhaps, some days, the scene is glorious and Uluru glows resplendently in the first touches of the morning light. The sun is a fiercely burning massive fusion reaction 1.3 million times larger than the earth but today it was looking timorous and unassuming. The sky got lighter. Sunlight reached the rock. It was really nothing special at all. The small crowd dissipated as everyone headed off for breakfast.

Diane was up by the time I got back. We had a pleasant breakfast, packed and then joined the bus for the trip back to Alice Springs.

A few hours driving got us to a service station for lunch. After falafel and salad, we wandered out the back to see the emus. In many ways this was the highlight of the day. There were a dozen or so birds running around in a large paddock. Emus always seem a bit comical to me. They generally look a bit scruffy, have the most ludicrous expressions and gaze at you with large, staring eyes. This particular group of birds included an amorous couple who gave us a demonstration of how to make little emus.

Mid-afternoon we were back at the Alice Springs train station. Here we checked-in and were allocated a cabin for the rest of the journey to Adelaide. Formalities concluded, bags sorted and  cabin located, we joined a coach to be taken for our evening meal. Tonight was another outdoor session, this time at the original Alice Springs telegram station. A historic location where the first bush telegram in central Australia was set up. Everything else came later. The town, the cattle stations, the road, the railway and everything else followed afterwards. The station was built next to a freshwater spring. Later in the year, the spring dried up and was revealed to actually be a seasonal river. None the less, the name, Alice Springs, stuck. Today, the buildings are a small museum which we explored before food was served.

We enjoyed the food as darkness fell. Wine was plentiful and a band helped to liven up the proceedings. It was not late when we were taken back to the train. This suited me well because I had been up since before sunrise. Back in our little cabin, the bunk beds had been set up. I dozed off just after the train started moving. The clacking of the wheels and motion of the carriage lulled me to sleep.

How we walked round the world’s largest monolith

Today we finally got to grips with Uluru. We had been steadily getting closer over the last few days. Now we were totally up close and personal. The road from the Ayres Rock Resort to Uluru is a half hour drive. Along the way are some splendid views but you are not allowed to stop. I think every viewpoint for the great monolith is carefully planned. There are places to watch the sunrise, the sunset, to see the fields of lights and the drones and all the rest of it. Each of them carefully arranged to give a clear view of Uluru in the background. So possibly there is no stopping on the approach roads to avoid congestion or maybe it is to ensure that vehicles do not spoil the view from the official outlooks. If every picture you have seen of Uluru looks as if it was taken from the same place, they probably were.

The first and most obvious observation from getting close to Uluru is of it being a properly big old rock. There is not crack or a fault, a seam or an intrusion or anything to divide the great mass of solid sandstone. From a distance it looks homogenous and smooth. Closer up, a chiaroscuro pattern emerges. After a few thousands of years, the rock develops a dark patina. It blackens under the effects of a sun. But the surface is flaky. Water gets in under the porous surface and causes small slabs of rock to ablate revealing fresh, bright, unscorched rock. The process creates a pockmarked tessellation of light and dark patches that covers much of the surface of the rock. There are a few cracks but they are small. In places the wind and rain have conspired to carve small depressions and holes. During the wet season enormous amounts of water flow off the top of Uluru. This has created many shallow valleys and pools.

We were shown to a couple of these pools. They are of deep cultural significance and there are signs prohibiting photography. We also got shown some rock art and a place where youngsters were taught bushcraft. In the far north-west of Uluru is the place where, back in the day, you could climb to the top of the rock. Only about 30% of the rock protrudes above the ground. Even so, it rises to 348 m. The route is quite steep, some sections up to forty-five degrees. There were chains that you could hang on to. Even so, the route could be quite dangerous. At least 37 people have died on the climb. Some from falling, others from heart attack or the effects of heat and dehydration. Today all climbing is banned. This is on the request of the local Anangu people, the traditional owners of the land. The very last day of climbing was the 26th October 1991 when hundreds of people flocked to the rock before the cut-off time of 4pm. On the following day, the local hotel closed because they realised, correctly, that if the rock could not be climbed then many potential visitors, particularly from East Asia, would no longer be interested in visiting.   

After that, we were essentially left to our own devices. A group of about a dozen of us decided that we should try and walk all the way around the rock. This was fun and gave us a sense of completion. It is not a particularly long walk. Just over 10 km and we had done a chunk of it already. The sky was clear and blue. The sun was warm but not especially hot. Almost perfect conditions for an afternoon stroll. Quite a few other people were walking around the rock. There was not a lot more to see. Possibly the highlight was a boulder that looked like a labrador’s head when seen from a certain angle.

Back to the hotel for a quick shower and then the evening’s entertainment was another outside meal. This time we got to sit at proper tables. The food was served buffet style and was not too exciting unless you are a fan of kangaroo and crocodile meat. There was however a guy playing a digeridoo when we arrived. This was fascinating and sounded terrific. The didgeridoo is an ancient wind instrument developed by the Aboriginal peoples a thousand or more years ago. Traditional instruments are crafted from eucalyptus trees naturally hollowed out by termites and are often decorated with intricate, hand-painted Aboriginal art. The sound is created by buzzing the lips, similar to playing a tuba or trombone. The instrument acts as both a bass and a time-keeping rhythm. Circular breathing allows players to sustain this sound indefinitely. This is an almost impossible sounding technique where you inhale through your nose while simultaneously expelling air stored in your cheeks, creating an unbroken drone. Later, we were given a quick guide to the stars by an expert using a laser pointer that reminded me of a light sabre.