Komodo (The greatest week ever!)

After a brief stop in Bali for some more oysters and a massage we went to the airport and bought tickets to Labuanbajo in Flores. We knew the flight was not a major route but after receiving handwritten boarding passes we began to realise what sort of flight it was. Calls were heard over the Tannoy for various other flights until finally a man in the corner shouted out ‘Transnusa, Labuan Bajo’ and a few of us were ushered onto a bus which took us past all the big planes to a little old one at the end complete with vehicle to tow it to the runway. Actually the flight was fine, in fact it was far better than Easyjet or Ryanair, we even got a roll and a drink. The airport at Labuan Bajo was a little different in that there was a gate next to the landing strip where people just walked out, no customs, no immigration, not even a building. The luggage carousel consisted of two little Indonesian men carrying each bag to a table and asking whose it was making sure that they didn’t dislodge their cigarettes in the process. Luckily for us a local guy saw we were new in town and offered us a lift into the centre.
Initially LB was quite intimidating with lots of locals asking you if you wanted ‘transport’ which meant a ride on their motorbike and as LB was so small you felt the whole town knew you were there. After the mandatory long walk in the heat we found somewhere to stay. It was a bamboo hut with a decent fan, clean mattress, very good mosquito net and great view. On the downside it was right next to the Mosque so we had a daily 5am wake-up call. Also the toilet left a little to be desired as did the power shower (see below):



Once settled in we went in search of a boat to charter as we wanted to visit Komodo Island to see the famous dragons. As expected prices were hugely inflated so we were fortunate to meet a Dutch guy named Andre in one office who was trying to arrange a similar trip to us. He had also met five others and so now as an eight we were in a far stronger bargaining position. Andre, Alex and I bargained hard and showed little mercy in arranging our tour, although we had to compromise slightly on safety as no boats had radios and ours had four lifejackets between the eight of us.

The next day our global team met at 7am for the start of our trip. We had representatives from Holland, England, France, Italy, Germany and China. Our crew of three did not speak English but were excellent and always made sure we were looked after. Our first destination was an uninhabited beach for a spot of snorkelling then after a fresh fish and rice buffet lunch on board we headed to Rinca (2 hours from LB), home of the Komodo Dragon. During our first trek we saw around 20 dragons though due to the heat of the day they were mostly lying down regulating their body temperature. Our park guide was excellent and made our trek even more fun when he showed us some Komodo dragon remains after one dragon had been eaten by another. We were extra pleased we had him as a guide when he said, ‘take some of the remains as a souvenir but don’t show the guards’. I now own a Komodo dragon claw.


We then began our journey to the next island, Komodo itself (2 ½ hours). We arrived at around 5.30 just in time to see the flying foxes begin to fly from the trees. We had a lovely Ikan (fish) dinner and then began to chat the night away helped by some local homebrewed rice whiskey. The stars that night were like nothing we had ever seen and seemed to cover the entire sky. We all decided a night swim was in order and jumped off the boat. Jake the other Brit on the boat, just out of school and about to go to Newcastle Uni to study French and Politics (and another Forest fan to boot) was first in. He had never seen the phosphorescence created by the plankton before and exclaimed, "F**K French and Politics, I’m doing Cosmology and Marine Biology!" In truth the phosphorescence had to be seen to be believed and we all went to bed on deck with big smiles on our faces.

Those smiles however did not last the night as we had a very thin sun lounger cover to sleep on and no pillows or blankets to keep us warm. Alex and I slept on the roof of the boat, the plus side being an incredible view of the amazing night sky, the only negative being hypothermia. Nobody slept well and we all looked worse for wear as we entered Komodo Island at eight a.m. Even seeing a pod of dolphins that morning was not enough to invigorate us. At Komodo we were lead on a thoroughly uninspiring walk by some local boys who were nice enough, though as a science subject leader I’d have to question some of their scientific vocabulary choices. When asked how the dragons mate we were told and I quote "He puts his forked c**k in her p***y and they f**k for seven hours." I’m sure David Attenborough described it differently.

Just as we were coming to the end of the walk, everything changed. Along the beach we saw a huge, ferocious, prehistoric looking dragon walking towards us, then another from out of the trees, his slow walk becoming a run, ungainly yet plainly powerful. We all knew that one bite from a dragon and the bacteria in its saliva would kill us. The dragons squared up to each other but the rangers, armed only with sticks, steered one away. The other one however was not so easily deterred and continued walking in our direction less than two metres from us. Fortunately the rangers found another stick to help steer the dragons away, unfortunately they gave it to me. For some reason I wasn’t scared, in fact I loved it. They are without doubt the most beautiful creatures I’d ever seen and I feel that I have fulfilled a personal little dream in seeing them.

We headed back to the boat and off to our next snorkelling destination ‘Manta Point’ where we snorkelled with no less than 12 manta rays. We even saw 4 of them perform a sort of dance in which they all moved in circles within each other. What a morning we’d had! After another hearty boat lunch we began the four and a half hour trip home. We were all exhausted but all beaming like the Komodo that got the goat.

For some reason we decided that we would go back to Rinca the following day, this time to scuba dive. Wow! On our first dive we saw sharks that were around three metres in length, giant travellies, schools of fusiliers, tuna, a turtle and puffa fish that let you swim right up to them. Our second dive was also pretty good. To top off the day, on our way back a pod of dolphins decided to swim alongside, around and in front of our boat. We could see them gliding under the surface from the boat deck (obviously Alex had called them earlier with her dolphin whispering skills).

We had planned to leave LB the next day but after our amazing diving, we decided to sign up to the three day package. The next day we got even luckier, nobody else had signed up to dive, this meant that we had the boat to ourselves, the best possible divemaster ratio and a free choice of where we wanted to dive. We were visibly excited by the prospect and were certainly not disappointed. We took the boat two and a quarter hours out towards Komodo Island and stopped at a dive site called Batu Balong. As soon as we were under the water we saw a huge humped back Jackfish. Then we turned around and there was a 2 metre long white tipped reef shark lying on the sea bed. We inched closer and closer and it didn’t seem to mind. We got almost within touching distance and just watched him for what seemed like ages. We saw a lovely turtle, a few more sharks and two enormous moray eels. Our second dive of the day was probably the most difficult dive we have ever done as the current was very strong and we had to be careful of down currents which are like under water whirlpools and very dangerous. Alex and I had just swum a particularly nasty bit and were looking for come coral to safely cling to whilst our divemaster tried to locate two tiny pygmy seahorses. At that point four huge manta rays swam right next to us. We just starred in utter amazement and disbelief at these incredible creatures, so huge yet so graceful. Throughout the dive we saw another six huge mantas though not at such close range. After the dive we both agreed it was the best dive we’d ever done. Then as we ate our beautifully cooked fresh ikan, sambal and nasi on the boat and drank fresh banana and papaya juice, we came to the conclusion that this was the most incredible week of our lives.

Perhentian Paradise

Our little bit of paradise

The transfer to Perhentian was so smooth it was like the scene from Snatch, plane, taxi and boat in quick succession and then we were there. We decided to be dropped off on the quiet side of the backpacker island, Perhentian Kecil and looked for somewhere to stay. It was scorching hot and even with backpacks on and sweat streaming down our faces we were both able to stop and comment on the beauty of the water, absolutely crystal clear, with little fishes swimming amongst the coral.

Our accommodation was basic and consisted of wooden huts with a bed, fan, mosquito net and cold shower, but what we sacrificed in room quality we made up for in views.

The room, aided by our bungee ropes that have proved essential travel items

The view!

We stayed for six days and if we hadn’t booked an ongoing flight, we would have stayed longer. Other than the mosquito’s this place was paradise! A tranquil, unspoilt bay with no hotels, fresh juice, awesome sunsets and an incredible fish bbq at £3 a head including dessert, happy days! We also discovered the local arak brew called ‘monkey juice’ which worked rather well with coke and made for some long nights overlooking the sea.

Other than the food and the amazing water, our other highlight was the snorkelling trip. We’d never been huge fans of snorkelling but this trip was special. We were taken by speed boat to a range of sights where we saw and swam with over ten baby sharks and a few small, blue spotted rays, turtles and a massive bump-headed parrot fish. We also saw a very funny creature in the water named ‘the Malaysian city dweller’, largely originating from KL they can distinguished by the brightly coloured life jackets they wear in order to keep them horizontal and stop them smashing the coral bed, their behaviour pattern consists of splashing about aimlessly and screaming in a mixture of delight and fear. They were hilarious, but fair play to them for trying to snorkel in the middle of the sea if you can’t swim. Before we returned back to Kecil, we stopped for lunch on a deserted island and to our delight, our favourite chef from the bbq appeared to make our juices. The trip lasted seven hours and cost the same amount of pounds, bargain, (Thanks Jeffrey).

Monkey Juice o'clock

Every day other than that followed a similar pattern. We would wake up and have mounds of fresh fruit and juice for breakfast. Then we would go to the posh hotel at the other end of the bay and secretly use their sun-loungers whilst we read our books. Occasionally we would go for a long swim in the sea or join in with the city dwellers in a game of volley ball. It was the first time on our trip when we felt relatively superhuman in our ability to do anything physical as the city dwellers, as lovely and good humoured as they were approached sport as if they’d only received limbs that morning.

We were a little sad to be leaving the island and will probably go back someday, however the parting blow was eased by the knowledge that after a day in Kota Bharu, we would be flying to Flores for more R+R.

48 hours of Sumo and Sushi

Our short time in Japan was a surreal affair, yet highly enjoyable. From the moment we arrived in Tokyo it was clear that this was a very foreign place. Despite the large population, everything was more serene than in other major cities, still fast paced yet somehow quieter. On the metro, everyone was respectful with crowds of people taking turns to let each other on and off, being careful to make no physical contact.

Once we had dropped our bags off to our tiny yet functional room we set off in search of sushi. We walked for over an hour, past ladies in Kimonos, business men shikoeing to their bosses as they left restaurants, but no sushi! We even took part in a police organised sort of public cycling proficiency in which members of the public were called over a tanoy to complete an obstacle course on byciycles, twice, once with an umbrella in their hand, once without. As the token white people we were sort out and persuaded to have a go. Needless to say we performed with that poor level of motor skills that we have come to expect from western people, yet we smiled and laughed our way through it and were applauded far to generously by the locals, we were even given a free key-ring and a packet of tissues.

Alex showing off her cycling skills

Eventually we found the fish market and with it, sushi heaven! We sat at a conveyor belt and spent the next hour sampling all kinds of raw fish related delights. The chef who spoke a little English asked ‘do you like oysters?’ Does Gary Glitter like the summer holidays? Bring it on! Not as good as Thailand but tasty never the less.

We were surprised, though in a way quite pleased that very few people spoke English, it was as culturally different a place as we had visited, and it got stranger. We were lucky enough to get tickets for a Sumo Basho the same day. I used to watch a lot of Sumo in my younger days, along with Kabaddi it was the highlight of my Transworld Sport Sunday mornings. I still remembered a ‘Yokazuna’ (champion I think) nicknamed ‘the dump truck’. Each week opponents would run against him only to be momentarily lost in his ample man breasts before he either exploded into them knocking them flying or picked them up and threw them to the ground. However, I’d never seen the massive ceremonial side to Sumo before. It was an art form and we both wish someone in the know could have explained the intricacies of it all, the significance of the big fat dudes staring each other out and wearing brightly coloured lower body tabards walking in a procession around the ring. The crowd all seemed to know at which point in the ceremony to shout ‘ha’ in unison.

Part of the ceremony

It was so much more than a sport, it had elements of art and even religion. It was an impressive sight and one has to respect any sport one can play and gain weight at the same time. The bouts, though short were dynamic and the big fella’s in nappy’s had an almost graceful look, except for the two non-Japanese ‘Dave and Darren’ we called them. They looked more suited to a building site than a Dojo. For want of a better way of putting it, their arses just didn’t look as refined.

Sumo arse (refined)

Sumo arse (unrefined)

The last thing Darren remembered, he was downing his Stella on a night out with the boys.

After some more sushi we went to bed. We were due to fly out the next evening and wanted to get up bright and early to explore this exciting city further. We decided the next day (after our sushi breakfast) to visit a traditional Onsen, which is like a hot baths but with a few customs that we were yet to learn. We wanted an authentic experience so we travelled a little out of the centre to find our bath of choice. It was hidden down a side alley but luckily a kind local walked us to the door. The first thing we realised was that they were separated by gender so we split up and began our own personal voyage of discovery.

Andy’s experience: I entered a bland changing room with a set of scales, heart pressure monitor, reclining chair and lots of naked, old Japanese men. Oh well, when in Rome, so I stripped and went through the next door. In this room I was greeted by rows of low taps and a few, sort of plastic milking stools. Sat on the stools or on the floor was an array of naked, old Japanese men either crouching or sitting cross legged, thoroughly shampooing their scrotums. It’s not my favourite mental picture of our travels, or my worst to be honest, but it did leave me in a dilemma: stool or floor? I eventually decided on floor and got stuck in. Once they were shiny I ventured through another door to a small outdoor area in which there were three pools, two hot ones, about 36 and 42 degrees respectively and a cold one (the shrivel pool). There was also a jet massage pool at about 40 degrees, and again, an array of naked Japanese men. The pools were really comfortable and relaxing, though I’m very grateful that I had my book with me to read. After about an hour of soaking I got changed, checked the scales (unhappily as my diet of red meat and wine in NZ had taken its toll), and left to meet Alex at the front of the building to compare stories.

Alex’s experience: Bathing in a steaming room full of Japanese women of all ages, was actually sort of lovely. There were no pretensions, no barriers at all, just all women together. As the only European woman in the baths it was only natural that I was stared at a lot. And no doubt there were a few chuckles at my skin costume (the vibrant tan marks from my swimming costume). But all in all it was really pleasant. I even helped a less-abled lady get into one of the baths, which caused a bit of a stir. Suddenly everyone wanted to chat, but speaking only one word of Japanese ('Koneecheewah') and being suddenly surrounded by a gaggle of sweating ladies was a bit too much, so I swiftly exited and grabbed a towel.

All that was left to do was collect our bags from the hotel, have one more sushi session and then head to KL and then finally to the Perhentian Islands.

New Zealand North Island

In a strange parallel, we find ourselves again at Sydney airport preparing for our next flight to Tokyo. We had a change of heart about South America and felt unprepared to travel there as well as knackered from so many voyages to the unknown, so we have decided to return to Indonesia and do a few things we were unable to do last time.

We did not feel that the North Island was as attractive as the South but it had its moments. We stopped off in Wellington which has to be the most unworthy capital city in existence as it’s about the size of Barnet, but we were fortunate that our trip clashed with the NZ comedy festival. We saw an English guy called Terry Alderton who was pretty original and made us laugh. On our way further north we did a walk called the Tongariro Pass; it was about 26km long and 1800m up a dormant volcano but the views from the top of the mountain were incredible even with an 80kph wind trying to blow us to our deaths. Unfortunately our camera could not do it justice.




We then drove to a couple of places but couldn’t find accommodation at a price we could afford as the thriving Antipodean currency was burning a rather large hole in our pockets. We ended up in a really nice place in Rotorua, famous for its sulphur hot springs and coloured waters. We were not as impressed with the geysers as we had expected but the hot spring across the road was lovely. Our financial position had also lead to a new eating habit: one meal a day, buffet, eat, eat, eat, bloat, bloat, moan, hurt then nip to the supermarket for a bottle of wine for dinner. Our other highlight of Rotorua was their luge, similar in set up to Queenstown but much steeper, much faster, much more dangerous and as such, much more fun. I (Andy) came close to death as I flew full pelt round a bend with no barrier to shield me from the cliff below, my brakes were as useful as a chocolate teapot and it was only old school feet down and watch my trainers smoke that stopped me from a tragic yet rather stylish end. If you are in NZ do the Rotorua luge, it’s awesome!

We then drove straight up to the capital city that should be, Auckland. No surprise, after the luge experience, I got a speeding ticket. The first morning we had arranged to scuba dive in a local aquarium with a carpet shark, plenty of plenty of large broad nosed, seven gill sharks, King fish and a Manta ray and no protection it was awesome as were the looks we received from the visiting local Year 2 school children. We decided to have a few drinks and watch the comedy that night to celebrate our survival. Two shows for one ticket meant we could get the drinks in and settle down for the long haul. Our only oversight was that the second gig was somewhere else and when, at the end of the first show, we saw Terry Alderton (the comedian we had already seen in Wellington) appear again, we realised we were not where we should be. At this point we also realised we would have to leave our front row table and leave ourselves at his mercy. Quietly and subtly with a jug of beer in one hand and full glasses in the other trying not to draw attention to ourselves we began to leave the room. Just as we got to the bar I thought I’d afford myself a glance round to check we were clear, but when I did I saw Terry running after us. It’s hard to know how to react when a comedian with the build of Mike Tindall, a Cheshire cat smile and a sparkling pair of silver glittering plimpsoles with matching belt is right behind you, staring back at you while the entire audience is watching, faces full of anticipation. Alex let out an involuntary little scream. In the end he didn’t attack us. In fact we had a little chat and explained the situation to the amusement of the crowd. Then after a little kiss and cuddle we made our way out but not before he had kindly invited us for a drink after our respective shows. Our show passed painfully as upon our late entry we had doubled the audience and we decided we should take Terry up on his offer although unsure whether he was just being politely English. Fortunately he was there and we spent the rest of the evening having a really good chat and a good little drink to boot. Not only can he do the greatest Souf Landan impression ever but he was also a really down to earth top guy, just like Michael Macintyre. It was a really good end to our time in Auckland.

We hadn’t arranged from the outset for our trip to coincide with the local country rock festival in Paihia although the sight of literally tens of pensioners line dancing in full kit, and country singers playing their latest hits on every street corner actually created a really nice atmosphere. Though we discovered one night that drunk pensioners have a trait that makes them far more frustrating than the usual drunk teenagers. Drunk teenagers get in late, shout to their mates and laugh because they are inconsiderate, then they pass out and don’t wake up until midday. Drunk elderly folk get in late, shout to their friends because they are deaf and then as they don’t need sleep, wake up at 5 in the morning and start talking again.

That morning Andy had been skydiving, Alex decided to watch as she had already done one and this seemed the wise choice as I needed looking after upon my return to safety. I jumped from 16,000 feet and had a minutes free falling; it was cold, exhilarating and brilliant yet I never want to do it again.




Luckily, the next day we had booked what turned out to be one of our favourite trips in NZ. We joined ‘The Rock’ overnight cruise. The Rock is a renovated car ferry that sleeps 40. We had virtually a full group and very eclectic they were. We had a large group of young Indians who lived in KL, a group of Malaysians, some older Aussies, an American family, two other Brits and a lone mysterious Frenchman named Fred. Our first activity was a shooting completion involving a plastic duck attached to a rope from the back of the boat and a paintball gun. We each had three shots at the little fella and a prize would be given to best male and female. I was not in contention after my 1 out of 3 effort but I certainly knew who my money was on for the ladies prize, especially after her question regarding the shooting apparatus. “Where do I sight it?” asked GI Alex to the crew with the surety of seasoned assassin, then carefully and with metronomic precision she painted the little quack-quack with 2 out of her 3 shots and grazed him with the third. Alex was crowned ladies champ, given free cider and we adjourned for drinks whilst our fishing rods were being set up. We then all spent an hour or so fishing off the back of the boat though nobody caught anything, except Alex of course who landed a large red snapper.


For some reason I was asked to give a speech to everyone before dinner to try and bring people together. Luckily I like the sound of my own voice and was able to blag away, congratulating the Indians on their World Cup victory and sympathising with the Aussies over their Ashes defeat. I decided not to use my line about reuniting people from all over our empire and I think it was for the best. Though I did mention that after our displays so far I would need to practise homemaking and sitting on eggs as Alex had certainly taken the hunter-gatherer role away from me.

After a top feed and a few drinks it was time for our night sea kayaking which was great fun, looking up at the stars in the beautiful dark night sky. Alex and I then decided to go night swimming and few others joined us. All that was left to do was drink our hot chocolate, toast marshmallows over the fire and head off to bed.

The next morning we visited some of the smaller islands of the bay and were given a nature walk and talk about the islands history. We then went snorkelling for our lunch. The Malaysians and Indians were lovely people but not built for water and so they clambered about the shallows with lifejackets and a myriad of other clothing. Luckily we had befriended Kam. Kam was a local who was the size of Hagrid and who as well as working for ‘The Rock’ owned a dive school. He lived from food gathered from the sea, so much so that he’d never bought a mussel yet ate them daily. He swam out with us to gather lunch and he showed us how to dislodge sea urchins called Ateroa and oysters using stones taken from the sea bed. We collected many oysters but ate many more, it was a great experience. Then suddenly the mysterious Frenchman Fred (also a good swimmer as it turned out) started screaming for us to come over as he had ‘found a horse’. Trying to swim but laughing too much to get anywhere fast we approached Fred. He beckoned us to dive down with him and sure enough we saw a horse, a large, pregnant male Sea Horse, it was a brilliant sight. After lunch we made our way back to port knowing we had been on an absolutely superb trip!


So now off to Japan for 48 hours for Sushi and Sumo!

New Zealand South Island. Wow!

We’re writing this together as we sail on the Picton to Wellington ferry, crossing from the South Island to the North Island of New Zealand. We arrived in Christchurch at the beginning of April, and have spent the last month travelling all over the South Island in our tiny rental car ‘Snowball’, and what a stupendous 4 weeks they have been.

When we arrived in Christchurch we were immediately struck by the quietness of the city, which wasn’t surprising since a lot of the population has left since the February earthquake and the city centre was in lockdown. By complete stupidity we got the address of our hostel wrong, thinking it was 44 Manchester Street and obliviously walked straight through the army cordon, onto a rubble-strewn road where the fronts of whole shops and houses had fallen away, leaving them wide open like dolls houses. Other intact buildings had condemned signs graffitied on them, while you could hear the rumble of bulldozers pulling others down. It was spooky to see the wares still in the shop windows. Anyway, we blundered through it all, unnoticed, until we found number 44, which was a large pile of rubble with a tent on it. We had previously contacted the hostel who said they were willing to put us up, although they had experienced damage in the earthquake, but we thought this was a little extreme. It took a helpful lady with a baby to explain we’d got the address wrong – it was number 440, and she took us there in her car, perhaps thinking that despite our ragged appearance we were obviously too stupid to be any threat.
We liked Christchurch, spending three nights there, during one of which we experienced an aftershock. It lasted about 3 seconds and shook the hostel to its roots. Well, Alex experienced it, Andy was fast asleep. But with the city locked down there was little to do except enjoy the great parks and find our rental car for the next part of our trip. We discovered Snowball, covered in dirt in a rental car company carpark. She needed to be delivered to Auckland and the company allowed us a month to do it, at only $4 a day. Bargain. (Thanks Paul for the relocation information).

Once Snowball was added to our team there was no stopping us (or Snowball as we discovered when we tried to use the handbrake during a blizzard). So off the three of us went to Hanmer Springs, a thermal baths complex about 120km from Christchurch. It was a lovely way to relax before the driving ahead; though the pools were not a patch on Hungary it was still a good day out.
From there we drove to a tiny place in the middle of nowhere even by New Zealand standards called Peel Forest, to do some white water rafting the next day. The drive was stunning with vistas worthy of book covers and postcards everywhere you looked. It was during this drive that we first decided that aesthetically New Zealand is by far and away the most beautiful country we have ever been to.
The rafting itself was great. We rafted down some grade 2 rapids to practice and acclimatise ourselves to the river; we looked good and none of our crew fell into the water, except Alex who catapulted off the boat in true army roll fashion. With Alex safely back on board we spent the next hour negotiating the grade 3-5 rapids which was great fun though we both would have liked a little more grade 5 as that was the most thrilling. Our trip was made even more enjoyable by one of our guides ‘Steve’ who had a beautifully dark sense of humour that not everyone understood. He explained how he received a letter of complaint after a rafting tour with a group of midgets during which he suggested that to improve their stroke rhythm they chanted. His suggestion of ‘Umpa, Lumpa’ didn’t go down too well, though he insisted the complaint was worth it.

After Peel Forest we headed along the East coast to Dunedin, which is strongly reminiscent of Glasgow, only – like most European comparisons in New Zealand – much nicer. In this case, it was the lack of Tennents swilling, abusive, needle clad junkies that gave the game away (sorry Karen). We went on a fabulous tour of the Cadbury’s Factory, which unlike the UK was still a fully functioning factory, unrestricted by crippling Health & Safety rules, although thankfully they had enough legislation in place to require Andy to wear a beard net. Sadly, they didn’t allow photos. Our tour guide around the factory was brilliantly generous and worked on the premise ‘you eat it, I’ll replace it’. Needless to say, that suited us. That evening we waddled out of our hostel to see a great little one-man play about a famous New Zealand cricketer called Bob Blair. Having spoken to lots of New Zealanders though we’ve discovered that they regard their national cricket team with a sort of bemused tolerance. Rugby’s their game through and through and strangely, even the basketball took a higher profile amongst the Kiwi’s.
The next morning we thought we’d beat the bulge with a spot of surfing, hiring a university student originating from Cornwall to teach us. After an hour on a beautiful beach with waves battering us from every direction, and not a hope of getting upright, Alex gave up to search the beach for shells, and instead found a dead penguin, which shows how cold the water was. Andy meanwhile, feeling all mannish, decided to throw off his wetsuit, and clad only in his board shorts, decided to have another few (successful) tries at standing up. How he later managed to keep a straight face while thanking our teacher for a great trip is a wonder, as he scraped most of the skin off his chest against the surf board.

In a lot of pain (especially in the nipple region) Andy drove us straight out of Dunedin wailing like a little girl. Queenstown was our next stop, the adrenaline junkie capital of New Zealand. We were not sold on it as a place as there were virtually no New Zealanders living there but it was like being in an adult playground so we got stuck in. Our first activity was river boarding - a little like white water rafting but on a bodyboard not a raft. The event itself was fun but a little tame, however the after event rides more than made up for it as we spent the next two hours jumping off cliffs and rope swings, lying on a float and being pulled along on the back of a jetski through deep gorges and canyons, and sliding down a converted gold shaft into the river in an array of dodgy positions, all in all a great day out.





The next morning we decided to go on the luge (go karting down a hill) and after Alex accused me of cheating (gamesmanship), we decided to have a best of 5 race. To put it mildly, we were both a little competitive and frequently, narrowly avoided collisions with other members of the public. It was a hard fought race but justice prevailed as Andy won the 5 match series 4-1 although it was a lot closer than that sounds.


We liked the luge so much we did it the next day before heading off to the Fiordland National Park in the far south west via the puzzle museum in Wanaka (which is awesome, see video above). Normally entering a national park you get a sense of change as suddenly nature is unspoilt by development, but there really wasn’t much change at all, as the whole of the South Island is much the same, and most of the time only the single lane highways that wind along mountains, around lakes, through forests and over pastures give any clue that the country is inhabited at all.

We arrived in a small town called Te Anau, which is the last town before Milford Sound, a beautiful stretch of water, littered with lush green mounds all the way to the ocean. We actually stayed in a different town (hamlet) just south of Te Anau, in a rustic lodge with our own cabin complete with a log stove. The next day we drove up to Milford, where we became stranded in a sudden snow blizzard just outside the mouth of the Homer tunnel. The tunnel was a huge cavernous snake of a thing which took about 10 years to build during the depression. Here our luck held out amazingly as we happened to squeal to a halt just behind the van of the company who we had booked to go kayaking on Milford Sound with. They kindly agreed to take us through the tunnel to Milford, and we emerged at the other end into stunning sunshine. The kayaking was really, really lovely. Milford Sound itself didn’t wow us as much as we expected but perhaps that’s because after a week here you really get spoilt for views. But we had a great few hours paddling along the water, and then suddenly Alex screamed ‘DOLPHINS!’ only to be mortified to find it was actually a log. But – the very next minute real dolphins appeared, a small pod of big black ones called bottlenoses. Alex now firmly believes she is a dolphin whisperer.



Our next port of call was a place called Franz Josef, a town that consisted of a couple of streets and a huge glacier.
The next day we joined a group and strapping crampons to our feet, spent 5 hours climbing up the Franz Josef glacier. It was definitely one of the highlights of our trip. The ice was a brilliant range of whites and blues, with natural ice caves and vertical crevices which made you shudder as your crossed them, or walked through them. We drank the fresh glacier water from the ice streams though nobody else in our group would, more fools they as it was absolutely delicious! We met some really nice people on the tour and all in all had a great day, topped off with a trip to the local hot springs.




From Franz Josef we drove to Greymouth which was a pretty unremarkable place but two things made it a really great experience. Firstly, our hostel was by far the best we had stayed in so far in NZ, the kitchen was awesome and it offered free bikes so we could get out and enjoy the sea air. Secondly, on our first bike trip we bumped into a local legend unbeknown to us named Mick Collins, who lived and worked out of a little old work shed with a ‘Pounamu’ sign outside it. Pounamu is a Maori jade that is available on the beaches of Greymouth though local law states that it is only to be collected by the Maori population. It was for sale in the local jewellery shops but was rather expensive and there were a lot of fakes about. When we heard the drills from Micks open shed we decided to take a look. The first sight that we saw were two shaped, shiny, boulder sized pieces of jade that Mick was carving as a memorial to 22 local miners who had lost their lives near Greymouth a few months ago. When asked where the council had asked for it to be placed, Mick replied, ‘I’ll tell the Mayor where it’s going’. We later learned this was not just talk. Mick looked like Uncle Albert from Only Fools and Horses and had lead the most incredible life. He had trained Malay military jungle troops in his youth, been decorated for rescuing a US colonel after he’d had his legs blown off in a minefield in Vietnam, and was generally very highly respected in the local community. We spent a few hours with him during which he received calls from Japan informing him that all his pieces had sold at a large exhibition and he spoke about how he was the lead speaker at the Anzac day celebrations which is similar to our Remembrance Day. All this from a guy in an open shed.

Our final destination took us to the Marlborough region, to a place called Renwick. We stayed in a lovely if pricey B&B and spent the next four days going round on bikes (including one interesting day on a tandem) to the plethora of incredible wineries where we learnt a little and drank a lot of exceptional wine. The majority of the tastings were free and the quality was superb, each night we would choose our favourite wine we had tasted the previous day and drink it after dinner in the B&B’s Jacuzzi. To name but a few we went to Cloudy Bay, Spy Valley (amazing), Brancott (Montana), Lawsons Dry Hills (also amazing), Forrest and Peter Yealands. We tasted a great deal of Sauvignon Blanc (I know someone in particular who I think would love it here, can you guess who it is?) which is the speciality of the region and also some amazing Pinos Gris and Pinot Noir. The scenery during the day was like something from a Renoir painting although by late afternoon it was more like a Van Gogh. (my first ever art joke, i’m not sure how I feel about that). All in all it was the perfect end to a perfect island.



We were sad to leave the South Island and would recommend it to anyone who wanted an adrenaline packed holiday or just to see constantly breathtaking scenery. It really is a very well kept secret.

From Laos to Australia

Hello everyone. Firstly, apologies for not updating our blog sooner, we have been doing better things; however, as I sit in Sydney airport uncomfortably preparing for a night of bad sleep on what appears to be national fire alarm testing night, I can safely say, now is a good time to write a blog entry.

We left you at the end of our Cambodia leg and at the start of our trip to Laos. Many people had raved about Laos and we were also really excited by it. To keep it short, it is the only country we have visited where we felt unwelcome and as such is the only place where we had a largely negative experience. We did have two highlights, a fresh lemongrass sauna in Luang Prabang, and the dirty, horribly bintang-esque activity of tubing down the Vang Vieng river, getting pulled into bars on ropes to drink vodka redbull buckets then zip wiring and sliding into the river on beautifully un-health and safety checked rides. A top day out! (But did we feel our age the next day. Also Alex was mortified to be the only woman on the river wearing a sensible swimming costume). We have no photos but type ‘Vang Vieng tubing’ into Youtube to see what we mean, it’s worth seeing. We also had an interesting experience involving a 20k walk with full kit in 35 degree heat down a motorway passing a man in a full spacesuit, a Minnie Mouse hat, a duck rucksack and Michal Jackson gloves (we didn’t stop to chat, but he still ran after us).

We crossed Laos via the land border to Northern Thailand and immediately felt the atmosphere become much more relaxed and friendly. I forgot to mention that on one of our final days in Northern Laos, Alex and I simultaneously hit what we can only describe as the travelling equivalent of ‘the wall’. We were staying in a sweet little bamboo hut which was serene and pretty by day yet shockingly freezing by night. We woke up one morning both shivering and unable to move. It was almost the 100th room we’d stayed in over the last four months and we were both exhausted. Luckily our hosts were absolutely lovely and were happy for us to sit and read in the garden all day. They took Alex into town to get water and supplies and fed us a delicious Thai green curry to aid our recovery. The reason I say this is that we then made a conscious decision to have a little luxury in Thailand. Don’t get me wrong, we were still in a bamboo hut and had a mattress on the floor but this one also had a 25 metre pool. Job done! We stayed for five days in a university town just outside Chang Rai. The street food was superb, and the night market and food hall were also immense. We were reluctant to leave, but with just fifteen days on our visa (land crossing rules) we had to move on. We took a winding, sick inducing, five hour bus ride to Pai in the far north. Pai was a really relaxing, chilled out place and we were again fortunate to stay in a first rate guesthouse complete with pool and lovely English hosts who would sit and drink with us to while the night away. They even taught us how to ride motorbikes in their garden and then on the road. Again, we were reluctant to leave but the fifteen days were going too quickly. We just had time to spend two nights in Chang Mai before we had to leave Thailand.

At this stage we had no ongoing flight and even less of an idea of where to go. Our initial thought was fly to Burma, stay 5 days then fly back to Thailand for some beach time and a free 30 day Thai visa on air entry, but the red tape and the restrictions on where we could travel within Burma put us off. Where could we go where we did not need to pay for a visa, where flights were dirt cheap and where we would have the most options? So back to Kuala Lumpur we went.

We intended to go to the Perhentian Islands or perhaps Langkawi (both in Malaysia), but yet again the weather got in our way, so where could we go for a couple of weeks to kill a bit of time? Is the cricket world cup in Sri Lanka? Oh yes, so it is. Within 24 hours, after watching the King’s Sp..spp..sppeech, eating a mountain of cheap sushi and staying in a cramped hostel room next to a working lady boy with big feet and very loud flip-flops, we arrived in Sri Lanka.

Never had we met so many kind, interesting and wonderful people as in this amazing country. On ridiculously crowded public buses we were looked after by everyone, told where to go, how to get there, how much to pay and even had people give their seats up for us, though at my stage in life, I was not sure whether I was being mistaken for the elderly, disabled or pregnant lady. We arrived at our guesthouse in Indaruwa, which although noisy from the traffic was a picture with a small pool, leading onto the beach and then the sea (the best sea we have ever had the fortune to swim in). We spent our time eating fresh fruit and fish, watching cricket, drinking Lion beer and Arrack and recovering from drinking Arrack. Sri Lanka was the easiest country to travel in so far as the public transport was dirt cheap and far better than the U.K. and people would chat to you and invite you back to their homes. Some of our favourite memories of Sri Lanka evolved from this.

The best buses in the world. Notice the plaque above the window - it represented both the Hindu gods Shiva, Ganesh and Vishnu, Buddha and Christ. When we asked a local why the religious deities were all mixed up, we got an answer to the effect of 'It's all God, innit?'

We decided to travel the west and south coasts by bus and finally settled in a place called Tangalle. With nowhere to stay, we did the unheard of, we asked a tuk-tuk driver. He took us to place where the cricket world cup sound and lights crew had stayed the previous week. However, it was now totally empty. The manager showed us our potential room with a view to die for (it was actually the view shown on the ‘welcome to Sri Lanka’ ad posters), both pools and the hotel’s 200 metre waterslide, which he said we could use whenever we wished. After looking around we sure of two things: firstly it was the most incredible place we’d ever seen, secondly there was no way on God’s sweet Earth we would be able to afford it. When we told the manager our budget he briefly went whiter than us, then, incredibly, made a huge compromise and in addition offered to halve the cost of the bar and restaurant menus also. Amazingly it just fell within our budget and we were transported from a world of shared showers and toilets, renting bed linen, making our own bed, using our own towels and noisy flip-flop clad lady boy sharing (that doesn’t sound right), to a new world with three course breakfasts and fresh flowers on our bed.

Luckily, the ridiculousness that is health and safety could not have been further away, as we had the run of the waterslide. The guy operating it used the following phrases which I love him for: ‘wear these, you’ll go faster’, ‘try going down head first’, ‘very good, now on your back and head first’ and ‘see if you can catch her up’. It’s a better world.

Us on Marissa beach, surfers paradise with 7 metre waves

Though the hotel had their own taxi service, we felt we owed it to our tuk tuk driver Ruwan to keep in contact and we began to form a friendship. One night Ruwan took us to his house to meet his family and show us their wedding album. His wife then invited us for dinner the following night where the extended family were also in attendance and we were treated like royalty. We brought them our wedding album and we all learned about each other’s cultures and traditions. They too were surprised that a grown man was able to fall asleep head first in a urinal (Bonzo, our friend and wedding photographer).

Andy with Ruwan and the family at their house in Tangalle

Alex with Ruwan's niece

Our friend Lou, a mate of Alex’s from their OTC days, was originally going to meet us in Thailand but we had no intention of going back by this stage as we wanted to spend as much time as we could in Sri Lanka. Fortunately she had not booked her ticket and was able to fly to Sri Lanka instead. We both really like Lou and had a really great few days relaxing by the beach. We then tried to cram a little too much into her week, taking a train to Kandy and then what was to be our least favourite place in Sri Lanka, Nuwara Eliya, where it was cold and miserable, and not even a good buffet could hide its dullness, sorry it was not all fun and games Lou, hope we can meet for drinks upon our return (our round). The day after Lou’s departure we stumbled upon the part of Sri Lanka that Lou would have loved, sod’s law!

News headline: Mini bus crashes in Sri Lanka, 150 dead!

Cup 'o'tea anyone? Our visit to a tea plantation (and Andy proves he hasn't contracted syphilis by crooking his little finger).

Standing room only, the best way to travel

Alex checking our train time at Kandy Station

Just before we left Sri Lanka, we had time to watch Pakistan smash Australia in the world cup, a solid end to any trip in my opinion. The crowd (including us) was mad throughout, the Sri Lankan contingent took their time to learn the Mexican wave, but my god, when they had, they wouldn't stop for love nor money and the sight of inflatable Kangaroos being hijacked and dressed in Pakistani flags was hilarious.

A friendly message for the Aussies

Our Sri Lankan visa was due to expire and we had a week before we had to leave for Sydney, so we decided to spend the week in Bangkok. Many people hate it, we loved it. Bangkok is not all about lady boys and prostitutes, the food is great too. As blasé as that sounds, there is some truth in it. If you stay away from the backpacker crowd there are some amazing places to see and things to do. The reclining gold Buddha was mind blowing, the views across the river were spectacular and the culture among the people of Bangkok was refreshingly non-western.

The reclining Buddha

Bangkok felt more like an eastern city than anywhere else we’d been and it did not adapt for tourists, which was great. Also, the food was better than anything we have ever tasted. Oysters the size of fists, street-made pad thai that was first rate, bbq chicken, squid, fish cakes and fresh fruit all sold from street vendors and all a different league of quality compared to what we are used to, the place is food heaven.

Seafood restaurant, Chinatown

The worlds greatest oysters (Chinatown Bangkok)

We decided not to go to a ping pong show as we’d heard it was quite sad and demeaning, so instead we went to a strip joint in a place called Soi Cowboy. On the plus side the drinks were cheap but it was sad to see all the semi naked, numbered girls being paraded in front of five or six ugly western men, unless you were one of the five or six western men, in which case it was Christmas. We also visited a snake farm, had many massages and explored the city. All in all, we loved Bangkok.

Bangkok snake show

Monks purchasing holy amulets in Bangkok

Our next stop was Australia. On arrival we were shocked by how expensive it was, food cost twice what it does at home and it hit especially hard as our last delicious crab and rice lunch in Bangkok had cost £2 for the two of us (including drinks). Then our mood changed. If someone were to ask what made our time in Australia the amazing experience it was, the answer would be easy: my step uncle, Paul and his wife Rosemary. They met us at the airport in Brisbane, took us to their lovely, tardis-like house on Bribie Island and pulled out all the stops to make sure we had the most amazing time. On our first day we climbed a large mass of hardened lava (just), then we visited a ginger factory and went on the most beautifully Alan Partridge-esque tour I’ve ever seen. Chairman I wish you were there to share it, I knew it was going to be interesting when the lady in charge told us how important the health and safety rules were due to the immense danger that occurs in ginger production. Over the course of the next week we went with Paul and Rosemary to some great beaches, did a bit of surfing in the waves, played some bad golf, fed kangaroos, cuddled Koalas and saw a duckbilled platypus.

Andy does his best Bono impression, complete with Guiness umbrella. The kangaroos weren't convinced, though.

I. WANT. ONE.

We were also treated to a delicious bbq and I met some new relatives that I never knew I had, they were all really good people too, and I look forward to seeing Suzie, David, Daniel and Annalise when they visit London. I also met Tooheys beer and I must say we got on particularly well. Rosemary’s cooking was awesome, and Paul can cook a pretty mean steak too. Their kindness, thoughtfulness, generosity and good company made our trip to Australia so enjoyable. Thanks so much.

We are now headed for New Zealand and intend to travel round both islands in a car or campervan. We’ll keep you updated and hope everyone at home is well. P.S. thanks for all the lovely emails, it is always good to hear from people when we are so far from home.