Happy Trails

Home, Bittersweet Home

2008-02-28T01:25:00.011+09:00

I've been back in England now for nearly 3 months. It seems something about this has silenced my writing. As Spring starts to show off its flowers and lighter evenings, a part inside me also begins to defrost, and we can be more complete with colour and spark.

Maybe the most unusual thing, now, about being back, is that for the first time in 4 years I have a place, in Engalnd, to call home. In ROK, I had a place of my own, but it was far from being homely. In my 6 month return last summer, I moved home 7 times. But now, now for the first time in a long time, I have a quiet, safe place, to settle and gather myself. I feel that from here, I can find myself. Others go to India, I go to Exeter!

So it's back to routine. The normal life. And I'm rather enjoying it. I'm lucky enough to work with unique people that take me about on some great little adventures. Last friday was horse-riding on a misty calming Dartmoor, January we went surfing off the south hams coast, and a couple of weeks back a walk across Bigbury on an early saturday morning. It's beautiful.

So this will be me for a while, no big trips planned, but a few little ones to keep me going.

The Big Smoke.

2007-12-05T05:54:00.000+09:00

Leaving shortly again, in search of the beach, something not too difficult, you´d think, as we travel up the coast towards Lima. Two hours and a terrible Bruce Willis film later, the bus leaves us at Cerro Azul, a small surf town. But we´ve got our timing all wrong, it´s more like a ghost town, not a soul about apart from an abundance of barking dogs, and just to top it off, the suns not shining! One night was enough.

With Lima only another two hours away we go to our final destination, with a whole week on our hands. If Lima had half the character of Buenos Aires, I´d be more excited by this prospect. Then again, I can´t complain with having nothing to do but walk the coast line of Miraflores, drink coffee, check out the jazz bar, go for dinner at yet another Korean restaurant, chill at the hostel, contemplate the last three months and with curiosity wonder about the ones to come.

My Little Dune Buggy.

2007-11-26T05:53:00.000+09:00

Another 24 hour bus trip back into Peru to hit up Huacachina. Listening to the Beta Band, smiling as the road slices through the desert, the sun sets, red clouds stream across the sky; misty mountains decorate the horizon. I think of people and places. Of the last three months. Listen to the subtle bass. Things are great.

Crossing the last boarder of this trip, we´ve completed our circle of a journey and head to the oasis in the desert. Arriving that morning at 5:30. By the afternoon I was attempting to sandboard down deep, steep dunes. Not having the perserverance to learn, I go the easy way, head first. Hurtling towards the ground, sand flying into a blur. Fantastic fun.

Surrounded by the dunes, there´s a much more romantic appearance than the desert seen from a bus window, that I can´t quite put my finger on.

The sun slips behind a mountain of sand, casting shadows over the peaks the wind has built, shining light on the patturns in the sand before we return to the oasis in the buggy.

The seat-belts are like that from a white-knuckle ride. A strap over each shoulder fastens between the legs, indicates what you´re in for.
Our mentalist driver rollercoasters with speed vertically before u-turning, practically in mid-air, we almost do a loop-the-loop. It was WICKED. Although the guy in the front seat didn´t seem to enjoy it so much. I did the gentlemanly thing and we swapped seats.

Beach Life.

2007-11-24T05:41:00.000+09:00

The beach is hot and quiet, locals wisely avoid the intensity of the mid-day sun. Arica nestles between the Pacific and the dessert, where the people hardly know the meaning of cold, even in "winter".

The town doesn´t interest me, and am pleased when three 17 year old girls practice their English with us. They show us the church designed by Eiffel, give us a run down on the history of the place (which involves a war they won over Peru, and is a reason why the countries still hate each other) and we go for milk shakes.

Another day in the baking sun, lapping in the waves, playing guitar in the beach. But there´s something about this place that does nothing for me. I know, call me fussy. We figure there´ll be beaches more to our liking further up the coast.

Chile.

2007-11-22T05:26:00.000+09:00

Getting to sleep on the bus was no problem at all. But the boarder crossing into Chile at 2:30a.m. lasting an hour an a half, took all my stamina. Half pissed, half hungover, waiting in ques in the cold night, struggling to stand. Sniffer dog jumping all over my bag keen to have my harmless friut taken from me. Testing times!

Arriving in Santiago 7a.m. we stumble around, try finding a cash point, coffee, internet, hostel, making our way underground, we bump into a friend from a random night out in Buenos Aires, low and behold, two others are about town also. Dinner and drinks are planned for that evening.

It could have been our frame of mind, we hardly gave Santiago the time of day. Knowing we´ve got quite a strech to cover getting back up to Lima. We decide to leave after one night.

Awake hungover, pack, drink coffee on the hostel balcony over looking the Plaza de Armas, check-out and head to the ticket office still undecided on where to get a bus to. The furthest point north, we book for Arica, a beach town. Bus leaves at 4:30p.m. Just enough time to catch the others for lunch at a cheap and delicious market.

The Last Supper. (In Argentina)

2007-11-21T04:55:00.000+09:00

We finally got off our arse on the last day of Mendoza. After the mule experience in Peru we were keen for some horse riding, and this is the place to do it.

That morning, dressed inappropriately in a boob tube and flip-flops, a straping, beautiful, man of the land, dressed in some traditional Argentinian cowboy clothes, helped us girls get gracefully on the horses and led the way through the bush, curbing the mountains away from the city. Tranquilo. Until we start trotting and galloping, then my horse sniffs Rachaels horse´s butt causing kicks, neighs and general unrest. Quickly ressuming to taking it nice and slow. Finishing on an easy note back at the stables taking turns to sing and play guitar.

Mendozas keeps 600 wineries. Its first earner is wine, followed by petrol, olive oil and tourism, and it´s a must when visiting to do a wine tour.

Although it´s initially quite exciting to witness such quantities of wine, it quickly gets boring learning how they make the stuff, and after taking some photos, we eagerly await the moment we´re all really there for...the free samples! Which worked out well for the second winery, especially with it being organic, the Malbec tasters were amazingly smooth, this is said to be the top place in the world for this kind of red. I had to go back to buy another bottle having decided three wasn´t enough.

Meeting a friend for dinner that night, it´s only polite to take a bottle along, aswellas another over one last Argentine bloody steak, it was easy to forget about time! Rushed out the restaurant, met Rach, made the bus out of town and indeed the country, by the skin of our teeth.

Let the sunshine shine in.

2007-11-20T05:40:00.000+09:00

Arriving at 9a.m. the sun was already out warming the streets of Mendoza. Maybe this is the reason why I haven´t really done much since arriving a few days ago. The hostel has a pool and grass to lay about on, and it also seems the hangovers are getting worse!

Met up with friends on Friday night for yet again more steak with pepper sauce, and a concoction of beer and wine, then made our way to a club, that turned out to be outside. Unable to buy tickets, Dan blagged our way in and we danced the night away. Meeting the next day for a chilled but similar concoction, my head is still hurting!

So my time here has been not so productive, although tomorrow we plan to horse-ride in the morning, wine-tour in the afternoon, then take the bus out of town again. A very big day! In the mean time the tan is coming on. Mendoza is a lovely city, with some great parks. Yesterday the town was buzzing as the fountains became swarmed with people, markets, live bands, buskers, clowns, unfortunately my head was banging and I had to get an early night!

Boys watch the girls, as the girls watch the boys who watch the girls go by.

2007-11-13T04:02:00.000+09:00

Buenos Aires is worlds apart from the wild west we just left. From one extreme to another, this is one of south Americas most affluent cities and one of the largest cities in the world.

Glitzy expensive high rise hotels face out from the docks over looking the Rio de la Plata, near the Atlantic coast. An hour crossing the 100 miles to Uruguay.

Grand impressive architecture hugs the avenues as street theatre and tango dancers entertain the shoppers. Gothic and art-deco designs tower above.
The city gracefully holds romantic parks, boulevards, history and modern chic in its elegant hands.

Arty markets fill the parks every weekend as the creatively minded express and inspire. Selling clothes, jewelery, shoes, mate cups, food and freshly squeezed orange juice to refresh.

A friend from earlier travels and shenanigans in Bolivia greets us at the hostel with Killers tickets in hand. Catch up over great steak and easy flowing local red wine. Just two things which are famous and fantastic in this large, beautiful, cultural, modern capital. Day turns to night and night turns to day as drinks and conversation continue with others enjoying what this city has to offer.

Friday night arrives and we make our way across town for The Killers. Unfortunately, I was bored to the point of walking out the stadium, whilst Travis the supporting act, disappointed the crowd. Contrary to The Killers, whose passion and energy made a great performance. I danced through out and woke with their songs in my head the next day. Fantastic!

First impressions of Argentina? I´m emotionally attached! I love this place. Buenos Aires is a sexy city full of beautiful people, and they know it. Everyone is constantly checking out everyone else. They look good, move good, sound good and all the dark haired boys keep my eyes busy.

Needless to say, we spent some here. Nearly two weeks in total. We popped over to Uruguay for a couple of days, jumped on the boat, stayed a night in the gorgeous romantic town of Colonia, hired a car, hit the road, made it through the capital of Montevideo and onto the beach scene that Argentinians flock to, Punte del este, where it was pissing down. Like seeing a princess without her make-up on, maybe this place gets better in the summer, but if I was to use one word to describe, it would be "over-priced". Not my kind of place, expensive shops, posh restaurants, and an arrogance I can do without, so we cut our time there short and headed back to BA for the weekend.

Time creeps on and we needed to pull ourselves away, weighed down with all our new purchases, we got a bus to Mendoza.

The Wild West.

2007-10-31T06:00:00.000+09:00

One night back in the Uyuni hostel, a day of chilling and waiting for our train that leaves at 2:30 a.m. With our two friends we keep one room on at the hostel to store our bags and relax. We pay for a full night despite leaving half way through. Only when we go to pay, the lady of the house thinks our behaviour is disgusting, complains that Rach is abusing the bed, although she´s meerly lying on it, and calls the police, who arrive and try primary school tactics to intimidate us. Realising it´s not worth the hassle we leave for the train station. 5 hours to go before its arrival. We do what most would, and order tequila, rum and beer. 2 a.m. finally ticks along when we get word that the train will be arriving but it wont be leaving for an indefinite amount of time.

We sleep on the stationary train, wake in the same place, to hearing different stories of departure time. Finally we chug out of town at noon, 10 hours late, giving us the opportunity to view the passing landscape by day light.

Cacti, arid, dusty, hot deep canyons as if the sun has beaten down without interruption, drying out causing cracks which get deeper. Opening up the earth where its visible of where water used to flow, although the possibility doesn´t look like it´s going to happen again any time soon. This is the wild west.

One night in Tupiza, a town in the middle of these red rocks, where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid met their fate. A fitting place for stories of cowboys, robberies and shoot outs.

3 Hours to the southern boarder, and easy crossing and 28 more hours on a bus to Buenos Aires. The cacti laden land continues into Argentina but we awake to flat green agricultural scenery that sees us all the way through to the outskirts of the city.

Would you like salt with that?

2007-10-27T04:50:00.000+09:00

Uyuni is where we met up with friends to take a 3 day tour visiting Salar de Uyuni. The salt flats, 1,000,000s of years ago, were under the ocean, oddly explaining the presence of a coral mound in the centre of it all, nowadays covered in cacti. Even harder to believe when I learned they are at 4000 meters, but offer some of the most unusual landscapes I´ve seen, more similar to space than earth.

6 of us piled in a 4x4 with props galore to get creative on the optically deluding miles of flat salt, where it´s as if depth doesn´t exist. Trying to exploit the cunning vista, we balanced in strange positions to compose visual fallacy.

Away from the salt flats we drove across a smooth road less landscape of mountains, volcanoes, unusual rock formations, lagoons all in varying colours.

Climbing up to 5000 meters, the highest I´m likely to ever get, on land. Flamingos litter the algae infested lagoons, but it´s the algae that changes the water from turquoise to shades of green and red. Beautiful and surreal.

Our last day started at 4a.m. to witness the geysers that threateningly release steam from what look like small craters. A pressure cooker effect in an early morning freezing atmosphere. Then to wake up properly we soaked in natural hot water springs. Water like a bath, evaporated into the chilled air, giving a charming and sublime effect.

At breakfast we had bread and boiled eggs, but the whites were still runny, and asked our tour guides to boil then a little longer. No problem. We waited and waited and asked if they were ready. Soon, apparently! Then it was time to go, and still no eggs. Asking again, what had happened, they had supposedly fallen out the window! That was the best they could come up with. I can´t help but think a 7 year old could come up with something better than that! 6 hours later we arrived back into civilisation.

Cortado.

2007-10-25T04:41:00.000+09:00

A quick stop by Potosi, where I didn´t visit the museums or learn much about the history or wealth of the region, which is due to the silver mining, so huge, it impacted the economical stability of Europe in the 1600s. Nope! I drank good coffee, chilled out and tried to adapt to being in the worlds highest city.

Not The Worlds Most Dangerous Road.

2007-10-20T06:41:00.000+09:00

3 Days spent shopping and eating and drinking with friends, browsing round the witch market where i withheld buying alpaca feotues and other animal bits and pieces. Despite that, I´d bought so much stuff that as we left our hostel on the way to the post office to send it home, the staff ran after us into the street, with a look of horror on her face, thinking we were doing a runner, asking for our room number and names! Happy shopping!

We paid up, checked out and hit the road for Coroico the next day.

It´s amazing how a country can turn a death trap into a tourist attraction.

The only road that used to run from La Paz to Coroico was named "the most dangerous road in the world", with the worst year reaching a death toll of 320. The unpaved path winds high above the valley below. These days it´s not used by vehicles but sensation seeking tourists on two wheels. Plenty of mountain bike companies, some how manage to entice travelers to clutch the breaks for 3 hours as they hurtle 63km downhill. Offering advise to stick to the left (next to the sheer drop), that way those who dare overtake can do it in safety!

There didn´t seem much safe or attractive about this option so Rach and I took the bus down the new "safe" road.
So safe is this route that we had our tires checked by police at two different spots, then as we arrived at the beginning of the peaky journey, high above, clouds tumbling to depths below, the driver pulled over, took out his holy water, offered some to the road, did the sign of the cross and drank a little. How very reassuring.

The jounery, maybe 2 1/2 hours from this point, has bird eye views, but with at least 20 graves dotted sporadically along the road side and as many hosptial advertisements painted on rock faces, i didn´t feel the new improved version is all that safe.

With this in mind, for our return journey, we waited in Coroico bus station for at least an hour, trying to find a sober driver! Harder than one would hope. Being blatant, speaking to different companies "Where´s the driver?", "No not him, he´s drunk!", " Sin alcohol!". Being looked at like WE were the crazy ones, but we did succeed.

The red glassy eyed drivers were a result of the 3 day religious festival that had just been celebrated, and our reason for going, as well as Coroico being that bit lower than La Paz presenting a tropical altitude more comfortable to breath in.

The town square was paraded around by marching bands and brightly coloured dancers in elaborate costumes to exaggerate their moves. Massive shoulder pads and short swaying skirts made their routines more impressive. Men danced just as eagerly as the women, it was as if we´d been transported to the set of a musical, the audience participated with the same fancy foot work, which they were all too happy to teach us with their drunken enthusiasum. Everybody of every age joined in. I´ve never seen anything like it, definately putting the Paignton carnival to shame! Candyfloss, balloons, clowns, childrens games, music and dancing, all typical of an average carnival, but with so much more energy, fuelled by the limitless supply of beer being consumed.

That first day the atmosphere was vibrant with a family, community ambience. A group performed on the stage as night fell, making the total number of bands playing in the small square, three. Music stopped only for rain at about 2:30a.m.

Despite hangovers, 40 piece marching bands continued the party starting at 5:30a.m. persistant in the blazing sun, it clearly makes thirsty work. The crates perched on every street corner were constantly drained and refreshed. Hour by hour it became a little more messy. As the music lost its loud rhythm and the dances became more sloppy, the streets stank stronger of piss. People could hardly open their eyes let alone walk, a man passed out with his face in his dinner, a woman struggling to sit up breast-fed her baby. The whole town seemed dirty. I´m not one for leaving before the end of the party, but I didn´t want to see the end of this one, it was definately time to leave.

High as a Kite.

2007-10-17T13:52:00.000+09:00

Awoken by the bumping of the unpaved road crawling into the 3600 meter high capital of La Paz, the 5:30p.m. sun is on its way out. Half the city lays in shadow, the other half still basking in the light. Our bus makes its way down from the high platform above, which offers us this mirador.

Within 30 seconds I'm witness to 3 men pissing at random points along the road, and as many couples getting intimate on grass that breaks up the swirl of roads.

Markets loiter about the streets with a ratio of locals to tourists somewhere near opposite to that of Koh San road.

Chaos, as Spanish is shouted from minibuses-invitations to go somewhere I've never heard of. Local street cuisine sold from plates offering food poisoning. Handmade crafts and clothes begging my purse to empty.

Living in the Clouds

2007-10-16T13:22:00.000+09:00

A bus full of tourists crosses the boarder from Peru to Bolivia along side Lake Titicaca with a winding road that gets more rural.

A bright, rich blue sky, high in the atmosphere at 3800meters, causing difficulty in breathing and a dry bloody nose.

Chats start and friends are made.

Arriving at Copacabana as a bright sunset over took the lake, demanding attention, it felt like a great decision to spend some time here. And our hotel was the cheapest and nicest since embarking on this journey.

Two became five as walked to find a restaurant. This small towns character immediately jumps out and introduces itself. Much more a bohemian feeling, this is what i thought i might find earlier on the road. Food and drinks flow, joined with good company and live music, in the cosy eatery. Later on to another bar, learning quickly this is a place people spend a lot of time, drawn because it's "facile y tranquil". People from Argentina, Chile, France, South America work in bars, sell jewellery and play music.

A day spent absorbing the vibes before taking the 1 1/2hour boat trip across the lake to Isla del Sol-birth place of the Incas.

I'm sure the Incas were great, but one can't help getting the feeling that it's all getting milked just a bit too much. Or is it the tourists getting milked? Worth it for the journey and again the opportunity to meet good people, half of which we ate dinner with that night, and facebook names were exchanged, oh my digital identity!

Leaving Copacabana behind, the road curves around the glorious lake, heading towards La Paz-the highest capital in the world.

There's a point where you must cross the lake. People disembark and take the small passenger ferries, whilst the bus is driven aboard a plank of wood, and pulled across by a boat! Safely on the otherside the road trip continues. After a short time I snooze.

Puno. Textile Cental.

2007-10-13T00:19:00.000+09:00

Living in a world (the west) where we want everything done quickly, where we take the effort out of chores with a switch of a button. With time on our hands that leaves us wondering what to do, it´s easy to forget what can be done without machines.

Yesterday we visited the market on the puerto. Alpaca and woolen goods are plentifully, with much variety and detail. So patient and talented are these people, it´s no wonder Peru's biggest export is textiles.

I first took to the knitting needles last year in Korea with Rachael as my teacher. Yesterday we approached the wise and experienced in teaching us more complicate stitches with which we can make circular items. More than happy to help us, although surprised at how slow we are compared to their own skilled speed. Just you wait, leg warmers coming up!

Puno is packed with atmosphere culture and folklore, the puerto looks out to Lake Titicaca which we´ll be crossing later on today to enter Bolivia.

"Arequipa, Arequipa" is shouted in high pitch tones

2007-10-10T22:41:00.000+09:00

The ladies calling at the bus station, it doesn´t make you want to visit, but we did. Travelling Peru is a tour of Plaza de Armas´.

Arequipa is a world cultural heritage, known as the white city due to the volcanic rock it was built from.

The grand cathedral stretching one side of the main square, elegance wisps around the Plaza de Armas before weaving through the streets sweeping by the colonial architecture, not as polished as Trujillo or Cuzco, but timeless, lived in and cosy. We explored calles and found our way to the local indoor market selling fresh juices next to the mandatory goats heads adding character to this established culture.

In typical Peruvian style the city's plateaux curls up. At its edges poverty meets mountains, their names Chachani, Pichu Pichu and in this case El Misti a snow-capped volcano. Not the safest place to set up home, at the base of a volcano! But the government can´t charge for the land here. It´s the only option for those who can´t afford the $10 per square meter, in a safer part of town.

Colca Cañon

We´ve not had much luck with guides. For one reason or another, most have been terrible. However, on our 2 day tour from Arequipa to Colca Cañon, our guide had so much energy and a beaming smile, that brought our group together as well as possible when there´s three up-tight, defensive, dull girls somewhere from the north of South America! I didn´t like to take tours much but it is generally a great way to meet people.

Colca Cañon is the second highest in the world, after a neighbouring cañon,(forget the grand canyon!)
We trekked inland, late in the afternoon as shadows grew long. The Inca terraces and platforms cover the land, evidence of their knowledge and dedication in agricultural work.

When we reached the top we were confronted with human remains, 800 years old. The skulls display techniques they used to show devotion to their ´father´. They believed they were born from El Misti volcano. Their father! To reinforce this identity they would put their heads in vices to encourage the skull to grow into a shape similar to that of El Misti. This started as babies and continued.

Hot water springs were an option after the walk. I declined as I forgot my bikini and didn´t fancy hiring one! The night air came over and I found it hard to believe that the wet ones were warm. I stayed dry, smelling the egg sulphur.

We woke early next morning to see the largest flying bird gliding across Colca Cañon. We perched along the edge of the cliff watching the condor spread its 3 meter wingspan for and hour and a half. Did I get bored birdwatching? Not in the slightest.

Juanita

One of the must see´s in Arequipa. The equivalent to 2 quid gets you into the museum. First there´s a documentary on her discovery. Where, when, how, why and the circumstances surrounding her death. Aged only between 12-14 this young girl is over 500 years old!
She is not alone. This was common practice of the Incas as well the civilisations that went before them. Juanita was the first to be found and is believed to be the first sacrificed of the lot. Juanita, who´s name seems to be chosen with modern affection, is thought to be more significant than the others due to the ornaments found at the site, the clothes she wore and maybe the size of the pin she wears in her poncho.

The ultimate offering to their Gods. They thought they could negotiate and influence the behaviour of their environment, the mountains, volcanoes and weather. When the Gods didn´t respond the sacfrifices became more.

The child would have to be young, beautiful and innocent. They attended a special school to prepare them, learning of their offering from a young age, although they didn´t know when or how they were going to join their Gods and almost become a God themselves. Fed a special diet and wore the best clothes, they knew they were different all of their short life.

The artifacts found with the sacrificed are in amazing condition, preserved by the ice for 500 years, the colours are bright and many items still intact. The clothes worn on the night of their death, still in incedable condition, with hardly a sign of wear on them. The pottery, dolls, bags containing food from that day, clothes display the Incas skill and attention to detail.

Juanita is the best preserved of all. She sits in a fetal position-symbolising rebirth into her new life. Incased in a glass box, 3 sheets thick, to protect her from the heat of modern day in Arequipa, which would lead her to decompose. Her hair is shiny, showing off her healthy diet, her clothes made from alpaca. She sits eerily still and she´ll sit us out.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Moment we´ve been waiting for....

2007-10-05T22:15:00.000+09:00

It could easily be said that Machu Picchu is sold out to tourism. The masses que to be the first one to enter at 6:30 A.M. Come mid-morning there´s a line outside the cafe as tourists wait for their caffeine fix and a quick panini. The over-priced refreshments are situated next to the fine export shop selling baby alpaca and vacaña woolen fashion items for nothing less than $100, and located after that is the Machu Picchu hotel costing $1000 a night.

The excavation work Machu Picchu has received is so extensive, that the vast majority of what is seen today is not original. A work man who has been reconstructiong the site for 25 years told us only 30% is original Inca work.

But as you enter, as you witness the first golden glimmers of sun, majestically shine from behind the guarding mountains, as you observe the city, built in such a remote region, you cant help but be in awe, of what was first a vision, created and brought to a reality, by Peru's strongest civilisation.

And what we see today only helps us understand more details of their life, their strength and their beliefs.

The city takes its name from the mountain beside it, but it is Wayna Picchu which is in the typical photo of the city. It is possible to climb Wayna Picchu and from there see, that like every other Inca settlement, their construction symbolises an animal. Machu Picchu resembles the condor.

Wayna Picchu itself takes the shape of a human face peering up to the sky. Its peak being the nose, the chin- clearly visible to the left and the forehead and eye, further away from the city, to the right. Fascinating.

We spent a very happy day there. Morning is the best time, as birds fly around, before it gets too hot and more and more tourists arrive as the day goes on. To offer some variation to our photos we took a group of friendly finger puppets. Great fun.

Aguas Calientes

2007-10-04T22:03:00.000+09:00

From Cuzco you must travel through Aguas Calientes to reach Machu Picchu. Named so for the hot water springs at the top of the town.

Aguas Calientes is surrounded by mountain peaks, giving the illusion it´s higher than 2410 meters.

The horizon, not at all horizontal, hovers high above, making the 4 hour train journey here spectacular with menacing jaggered cliff edges meeting the aqua green river which splashes calmly then races into white water along side huge boulders.

A small town packed thick. River and railroads pushing between restaurants and hostels that accommodate the worldwide hoards visiting South Americas most famous link to history.

A thunderstorm drenched the pueblo, offering force to the rivers and atmosphere that brings people to the street smiling in a way contrary to England!

City of the Incas

2007-10-02T10:25:00.000+09:00

The plane circles the city around the mountain peaks before it swoops into Cuzco exposing the poverty on the out-skirts that might otherwise be hidden. The taxi drive didn´t overly interest me. We got a hostel outside of the main plaza. Then after dropping off our bags we walked wondering what we might find.

As we made our way through it´s European cobbled streets and old colonial buildings, we turned one corner and unfolding in front of us lay the Plaza de Armas, the biggest in the country, a massive cathedral as well as other grand buildings, wall the square with the central fountain and the butterfly walks.

This place is amazing. It´s European atmosphere extends for the diversity of the place. All kinds of different restaurants can be found here. As if some kind of machine has cut and paste this city here, plonking it in to the Incas mountains. Surrounding, are mountains which people inhabit. Their lights at night could be mistaken for stars, although there aren´t as many ¨stars¨ as there are homes.

Not only is it stunning here, it has great shopping! Something I´ve been waiting for. Tomorrrow we go to the Sacred Valley for the day, for this is really the Inca kingdom, and there´s much to learn here.

Jungle is massive!

2007-10-02T09:42:00.000+09:00

3 Days in Cumaceba Lodge in the Amazon jungle, has taught me I´m not a jungle girl! I had the strong sense that everything in all directions is living and breathing. It is dense with life, fascinating and un-nerving. I feel strangely threatened by it all.

Our first afternoon we went by boat to an animal sanctuary. The sloth is my new favourite animal. It has a peculiar balance of ugly and cute, moving so slowly, with a permanent expression of a smile. Long arms, legs and claws allowing it to climb trees well, if not in slow motion. Although he didn´t demonstrate this to us. He fell from a very low branch and landed backwards. When he was picked up and sat in the sitting position, he fell forward and pissed himself, like he´d been out all night and didn´t have the energy for dignity anymore.

The marmoset monkey was amazing. Like a tiny human in some ways, and like a baby as he lay contently in my arms! Friends of mine may be surprised to hear of me interacting with animals. Don't get too excited, it didn´t last that long, I didn´t bond with the snakes and toucan.

For sunset we went down river to where the Amazon meets with another river, and dolphins come up for air at this time. There were plenty until we got in for a swim, then they mysteriously disappeared, cant blame them, they´re supposed to be smart aren´t they?

I declined the opportunity of a night trip to sit in the canoe listening for nocturnal animals. My paranoia rose as the sun went down. The tour guide didn´t help when he brought one of the tarantulas, which were just roaming free on the walkway to MY BEDROOM, into the drinking area. When it jumped off him, I jumped onto a chair, for the second time that day. The first being when the snakes were let loose. I promptly went to bed after that, unable to calm my imagination.

Early next morning we walked through the jungle in sweltering heat. We were shown how to drink water from tree branches, termite nests which are used as mosquito repellent, as well as monkeys, frogs, lizards, butterflies and working ants carrying big leaves. We finished the trip with a visit to a tribe. An comfortable forced atmosphere. The three men wearing traditional clothes, the others were all women, hardly clothed and hardly a smile between them. They painted our faces, we danced with them and shot targets through wood like a massive pea-shooter. The best bit was Rach and I playing with the blow and arrows.

That evening I managed to relax a bit more with no tarantula sightings and a few beers. We played music and chatted.

We woke in the morning to find four bats above our beds! And then we went piranha fishing! After fishing others decided to swim. I stayed firmly on-board with my make-shift rod and Rach joining me at the front of the boat with the guitar.

Down the River

2007-09-30T03:55:00.000+09:00

We´ve helter-skeltered down the Andes and landed in the Amazon basin. Contrasting heat, environment and atmosphere. I waited eagerly for the cargo boat to get moving to entice the breeze to flow. It was sweltering, but as we waited I spotted dolphins and flying fish to ease the time. I wondered what other creatures might be lurking around.

3 Days and 2 nights on board the cargo ship. Although it cooled by night the midday heat crawled over me, sucking my energy, paralyzing me as sweat wept from every pore! Snoozing in the hammock was the only thing I was capable of. It was great really being forced to do nothing. Spending time talking with travellers and locals, reading , writing and taking photos of the dense green on either side.

Our first breakfast was coupled with another dolphin performance, then we chugged further towards the rio amazonas, stopping occasionally to trade with small communities that inhabit the banks. At other times a small boat is taken to shore where people, babies, rice or monkeys embark for the cargo.

The Northern Highlands - Chachapoyas

2007-09-26T06:44:00.000+09:00

Chachapoyas refers to the region, the city and in Quechuen means Warriors of the Clouds with regards to the people who have lived here.

Sarcophagus, Andean mountain villages, Valley Belen, exploring ruins of pre-inca civilisations, bonfires it´s was quite a trek.

We´ve covered many miles in this vertical landscape, by different means of transport. Our first car journey slipped and slid so precariously close to the edge we all had to get out. The direction wasn´t conforming to what the tires suggested.
We´ve walked a long way, at points up to 3000 meters. Little of it flat. Judging distances has been difficult with one functioning eye, after infecting my eye on the first day. Descending was then made especially difficult, causing me to fall here and there, as well as hard work on the knees and ankles. I must admit I felt a little sorry for myself at times, when my vision was blurred and my eye aching in the bright light of the day, but not half as sorry as I felt for the mules who carried us on the ascent.
Along a never ending mountain, which only seemed to get steeper and rockier, offering variations of panoramic views.
Having never ridden a mule before, and not receiving
any guidelines on how to handle it,
relaxing was not the easiest state
to reach as his fancy foot-work trotted
steeply down the narrow winding path,
rocks becoming loose with every step,
which clung to the mountain edge.
I tried not to look down to the valley below.

Towards the end of our ride we had gained enough confidence to encourage our mule to the front of the group, with names we´d picked, like Murphy mule and Murdock mule being called in hope of winning the race, we galloped across lumpy ground and jumped up rocks. Brilliant fun. Which left me walking like John Wayne and unable to sit down comfortably.

Our trek began on the first day of four, with clambering down a mountain side to view the sarcophagus and mummy remains, human bones! The sarcophagus are wedged high into the mountain edge where they´ve been sitting pretty for a thousand years, facing east, watching the sunrise and overlooking the lush green valley. You wouldn´t see them unless you knew they were there, even with the humans skulls, looking down at us, indicating the possibility of mummy's and golden treasure stored behind.

Many of the ruins in the Chachapoyas were re-discovered in 1985 by Gene Savoy. On leaving the area he took the gold he found with him.

After lunch on that first day in a small mountain town with local cuisine of rice, lentils, chicken and coca tea, we made our way to Valley Belen. A lush green plateau with a river curving its way through it, laced with horses and cows roaming free.

Our home for the night was a mud cabin, where we collected wood to cook with and to keep us warm throughout the night, singing with the harmonica, drinking liquor de leche and chewing coca leaves.

The second day I woke with the swollen red weeping eye infection. I took my contact out for the next week! We had another companion that day, actually two. A man of the land, and his mule, who kindly carried our bags. Together they led the way through Valley Belen up a steep track up to 3000 meters before the 4 hour decline down an Inca path.

On the way stopping to explore Pilquilla, walking through the jungle, where no path has been trodden yet, evidence of the amount of excavation that could be done here. The ground is soft as it lays around the pre-Inca ruins, hiding its pottery and mummy's below. Discovered only 22 years ago the government doesn´t have the funds to invest in excavation of all sites, or even half of them. Pilquilla is older than Machu Picchu, about the same size, standing high in the clouds the typical way that fortress´ do round here. It also seems there´s a fear of taking the limelight away from the countrys most profitable tourist destination, where people pay $100s to visit.

Just as I thought I couldn´t take another down-hill step we arrived at Coñgon, what a relief to take my shoes off, to sit with a beer in the wooden hut amongst the mules, chickens, dogs, guinea pigs, banana trees, coffee plants, with blue sky above me, to look to the sunsetting behind the mountains, hearing stories of ruins and stolen treasure, listening to Rachael sing songs on the guitar, and to sit around the fire for a last beer before bed.

As we ate our breakfast the next day the mules were being prepared. We rode down to the humid river then up to the cool fresh peaks. To keep the mules moving the owner walked with us the entire way, without stopping to catch his breath, he constantly whistled and called. His endurance is phenomenal. The way these people live and work on their land, puts the Westerner to shame really.

Before stopping for lunch, we explored another site re-discovered only 3 years ago, the jungle reclaiming it, wrapping its branches around individual stone bricks, holding on tight as not to let the modern man open it up.

Then the mountain side where we ate lunch, all locally produced, organic food. The friendly isolated owners smiled as I watched them make cheese and liquor de leche. We continued on mule back to our final destination of the day. And then the mules and their owner walked all the way back again!

Our last night was spent in a small village with enough 80s and 90s music to keep the novelty going for about an hour, before Roberto the manager of the hospedajs played his guitar, then Rach stole the show.

We woke with hangovers the last day, and missed the sunrise over Kuelap, but made it by mid-morning. The fortress strong on the summit, built to receive maximum sunlight lies east to west. 600 meters long, 100 meters wide, within its walls holding 420 circular homes and 5 rectangular buildings. The fully excavated site gives a vivid example of how they lived between 900 - 1100 AD. The Incas joined the Chachapoyas here, which is why the buildings take two shapes. The Incas responsible for the straight lines and corners. Perched at 3000 meters high, the views are as spectacular as they are wide. Using three times as much stone to build as the great pyramid of Egypt. It takes you by surprise. Developed largely through agriculture, lama and al-paca footprints are still visible in the stones through the walkway .

About turn...

2007-09-14T07:28:00.000+09:00

3 Days in Trujillo was plenty. The first day we walked, the second, we took a tour. In the morning to Huacas del Sol y de la Lunas (which is two sites), and the afternoon to Chan Chan. Huacas del Sol y de la Luna made by the Moche people, a pre-inca civilisation who ruled the area from 200BC to AD850.

At Huaca del Luna, excavation of the site was in full flow, revelling bright colours and details of decorative art work. We entered through the north east corner, directly into where the human sacrifices were made. The victims were prisoners of war, offered to the Gods in hope of rain and fertility. The Moche tortured, before forcing cacti hallucinogenics on them to help the victims in their preparation for having their throat cut. The body was then thrown over a high wall, with the rest of the bodies, left to decompose and be eaten by vultures at the base of the mountain, next to the settlement.

From the roof top there´s a great view of the Huaca del Sol, the largest pre-Colombian structure in Peru. Once a pyramid, is now reduced to 2/3 its original size due to the weather.

The rest of the afternoon continued with our tour guide that spat out information faster than a machine gun, constantly hurrying us along to the next place, in broken English and a monotone rehearsed speech. Asking questions was received with a look like you were trying to start a fight. Needless to say, we didn´t learn that much from her, but thankfully, there were enough boards offering information, to keep us walking around what was home to the Chimu civilisation.

The ruins named Chan Chan was their capital and is the largest adobe city in the world. At their height this housed 60,000 Chimus. Lasting Ad850 to 1470, they were finally defeated by the Incas.

It seems that not just here around Trujillo, but all over Peru, that what has been re-discovered of these ruins, is just the tip of the iceberg, as steep and as high as the mountains that overlook this country.

Our tour ended with a brief stop at the seaside town of Huanchaco. I was inspired to stay the night there, until the sunset and the cold breeze came in strong.

So our last day there, I came down with food poisoning, sat around waiting for our bus, hoping this bug would leave me alone, it definitely felt like time to go.

We have arrived in a warm climate with blue skies, a nice beach, Pelicans gliding above the ocean and Vultures everywhere!

Up until this point we were planning n heading north again onto Ecuador, but after consulting the bible of the road, being the lonely planet, we realised we hadn´t given real consideration to the weather. With our new knowledge, we´re going to change direction, a 45 degree angle to the east and head inland to the jungles and the Amazon river!

Six months later!

2007-09-10T10:50:00.000+09:00

Summer at home. Summer?!!! It pissed down pretty much the whole time I was there. One of the worst England has seen for maybe 250 years. And the one I decided to go home for. It didn´t stop me enjoying it for the most part and getting out to a few obligatory festivals, summer´s not summer without them. Sunrise was a great one to start the season off with, and finished with Beautiful Days, the wettest festival I´ve yet to experience, nothing that a few ciders and a lively band can´t improve. Anyway, all that has passed way now, to my next trip, the place where Paddington Bear himself is from.... Peru!

I arrived after 14 hours of flight. Before which Matt drove me to Gatwick in the middle of the night, taking about 4 hours, then after arriving here I waited for my friend Rach for 6 hours in the airport. Oh the joys of travel can leave you exhausted before you´ve even seen anything.

Lima is large and diverse, capturing affluence and poverty, fresh sea breeze of the Pacific and thick spluttering pollution. This is the city the Spaniards founded on the shore of the dessert in 1535.

Some of the first things I notice, Volkswagen's are everywhere, driven down the streets by all ages. The streets are lined with buildings also reflecting a colourful retro style, with massive cacti out front.

Another common sighting here is the amount of couples, young to elderly, openly demonstrating their love. In parks holding hands, leaning heads on shoulders, or on cliff tops embracing.

But it´s not all easy going. Yesterday we left the capital heading north. As our bus weaved its way out of the city we observed what masses of people call their home. In the distance was a small mountain scattered with houses clutching to the side for dear life, lacking water and electricity. This scene was repeated for miles as we left the city behind us.

After a little snooze I woke, looked out the window to find the complete opposite to what I saw before I slept. What was chockablock with people, cars, homes, noise and exhaust fumes was now replaced with nothing but sand dunes. Quite a capturing view when there´s not really much to focus on, and reminded me of Mars!

The 9 hours on the top deck of our luxury bus passed quickly and comfortably, putting the National Express to shame. We drove in and out of colourful towns and cities dotted through the dessert, dogs barking, children playing. Day turned to night, shadows grew longer, the sky went bright red and the landscape turned more mountainous.

This morning we awoke in Trujillo a colonial city, a real treat for anyone who likes to take photos, if you feel relaxed enough to take your camera out that is. We have been warned so many times by locals to be careful of thieves, it can really make you feel uncomfortable, but that aside, it´s been a great day of walking and taking photos. Tomorrow we´ll do the same until we get round to seeing the pyramids, ruins and beaches.

Have you ever seen a cool Lada?

2007-09-10T04:27:00.000+09:00

If only Ladas looked like this when I was at school, I might not have been embarrassed by ours! Possibly.

London Darling

2007-03-11T17:23:00.000+09:00

Thats right, I'm back on British soil, and oh how a tear came to my eye when I landed at Heathrow yesterday. After spending the last 17 months in Asia, the first thing I notice is obviously, that I can understand what everyone in all directions around me, is talking about. This initially made me feel as if I should start talking with them, it was slightly overwhelming.

Matt met me as I walked through the gates, looking as if he'd just spent 2 months in India! Which he had! My adrenalin was racing. Wonderful.

Anyway, I woke this morning at 7a.m. to the sound of birds singing outside my window (jet lag has it's benefits) And went for a walk around the block to the convienience store. Which isn't an appropriate name for them round here. Back in Incheon I wouldn't have had to leave my apt building to go to the shop, but here, in London, I have to walk for 10 mins. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, it's just an observation. I loved every minute of the walk. From the moment I stepped outside, when I was faced with the townhouses on Leinster square, with the park in the centre, blue sky, fresh air, and a mini parked right out front. It could only be England. Assa!

I just want to say that I had a lovely dinner of fish and chips last night, and that I'll be heading to Stonehenge this week for a road trip, haha. OK it's breakfast time.

Centre Stage

2007-02-11T19:36:00.000+09:00

Today celebrates a year after one of the most culturally surreal experiences I've had. Literally a few days after I arrived in Korea, I found myself centre stage, surrounded by Korean children and their teachers, dancing and singing to Abba, with a crowd of parents in front of me, cameras flashing away. A few questions occured to me at this point. Where am I? Whats going on? What am I doing?
Why? Huh!? I don't get it.

I didn't know the dance that they had all practiced together, therefore would have stuck out even more, being the only Westerner there, and dancing out of sync. This came after having to perform 3 open class on stage, and before being taken out for dinner. Keep in mind I had been here for maybe a week at this point. To then go out for dinner, and not be able to understand a thing anyone says all night, but this being topped off by the mass of food. All of which is raw fish. Some raw fish I can get my head around, but others, not so much. For example, jellyfish! It doesn't matter how much you try and chew it, it just doesn't break down. It's cut into thin long pieces. So when it comes to a failed attempt of chomping, I tried to swallow it as it was. This was difficult as half of it made its way down my throat and nearly gagged me before the rest of it had a chance to catch up. Bottom line is, it's not recommended.

Anyhows, today I went through a similar experience and I kept away from the jellyfish, but this time I also knew the dance routine after too much practice! And after a year of being here, these things don't feel surreal at all. A little over the top maybe, but not surreal. See what you think of some of the kids outfits.

January in pictures.

2007-02-04T12:13:00.000+09:00

The height of fashion this winter season in Korea. Fluffy teddy bear hats. They're very popular. Here I'm sporting the white polar bear. Note the person behind me in the pink rabbit.

The girls.
Elizabeth, Anastasia, Rach, Me and Beth.
This was taken in the temple at City Hall, whilst we searched high and low for the Willy Ronis exhibition. After asking numerous locals, walking round and round in circles, loosing each other, then giving up on the whole thing we actually found it.
When asking Koreans for directions it seems they don't want to say they don't know, so just say anything, even if they don't have the foggiest. This is very frustrating when you're kind of lost. Hint of the day is, ask another foreigner!

The exhibition was brilliant. His photos taken between the 30s to modern day. He captures
everyday life so beautifully. It was complete escapism being surrounded by a black and white Europe. It made me miss home.

A glimpse at his work. A well known Willy Ronis photo.

The mother of all Mondays

2007-01-30T13:37:00.000+09:00

Me and Rach. She's the guitar and knitting master extraordinaire.

Well it's nearly the end of January. Of all the months this one probably has the worst stigma attached to it. My friend Lara put it to me that it was like one long Monday! And normally I would agree, but I've actually really enjoyed it! Maybe it's got something to do with keeping to most of my resolutions.

My apartment is consistently tidy (WOW). I've added a little exercise to my daily routine. I've been getting to bed early. I've been reading more. I do the dishes straight after eating (instead of leaving them for 3 days!oops). As well as drinking more water, eating better, cutting down on caffeine, and I even managed to stop drinking alcohol for 3 weeks. All of this has lead to a more relaxed less spotty Briony.

I also associate January with rain, and here its really dry, (so dry that my arms are threatening to come out in a rash). The lack of rain and the blue skies cheers me up too.

Just to top it off my guitar playing is coming on leaps and bounds, and my latest hobby, which is knitting. This is probably the most surprising for me because I've never had a hobby before, really! I think they both suit me, mainly as it means, I can just sit down, it's nothing too strenuous, I don't have to wear any special clothes, I don't have to shower afterwards and I don't have to pay much for the privilege, I can just pick it up and take them anywhere. Perfect! So all in all the new year is off to a good start.

Third Time Lucky

2007-01-14T13:23:00.000+09:00

(Nicola and Sarah going for a walk)

Over the last 11 months, I've visited Japan 3 times and have failed to write about it at all!!!!

What's especially lovely about going to Japan, is, it's an opportunity to see my family there. Now, my family is very complicated, and actually took me a day and a half to explain to a friend once, so for the sake of simplicity, I call them brothers. 'Adam' and 'Matt'.

Adam has been living in Japan for 10 years, he has a house in the mountains of Nagano, where he lives with his wife Yoko and 2 children Sarah and Ricky, and a school in the city, where he teaches English.

(Sarah)

Matt has been married to his wife Midori for 5 years and they have they're little one Nicola. Matt teaches from their country home in Nagoya.

The thing about having brothers who have settled in Japan, is generally, I don't get to see them very often. Which has been one of the reasons why it's been so special for me to visit them, and see them in their fatherly roles, in their homes with their beautiful families. It seemed quite strange at first to hear them chattering away in Japanese. It was never anything that I would have imagined as a child. That they would both be teachers! And that they would ever be fluent in another language, let alone Japanese!

Most recently I visited Japan for New Year. Unfortunately, 2 days before I was due to leave, I picked up a strong flu virus, that knocked me side ways and sent me to bed for 3 days, and to the doctors once, where I had to get a shot near my hip and received a big bag of painkillers! I could hardly make it out of my apartment, let alone to Japan. But after sleeping for 36 hours I made it. I recovered slowly whilst there.

New Years Eve was great and one that I'll remember because it's really quite different to my other experiences and because it was relaxing. After playing card games with Matt and Chris (Matt's friend from England), the loser having to drink a shot of soju(Korean liquor), we all went down to the shrine, it's tradition there for people to ring a huge bell, so we took turns. They told us in Japanese not to ring it too hard, which Matt translated to Chris, but to the contrary, and Chris hit it so hard it gave me a headache for the rest of the night, and could be heard for miles around I'm sure. Next we went to a temple. The difference between a shrine and a temple, I've yet to learn! There we offered money and prayed to the Buddha, before being given Saki, and sitting by the bonfire, to chat and enjoy the crisp night under the clear moon. Really lovely.

The following day Matt woke me up at 12.30 to tell me lunch was ready now. I hurried to shower and make myself look half respectable before being 10 minutes late joining Midoris parents, grandmother and friends of the family for sushi, which is the traditional meal on new years day. Chris had a hard time being faced with raw fish as soon as he woke with a hangover, its not his favourite.

Later that day Adam arrived with Ricky and Sarah. The energy of having 3 kids running around, adults trying to keep them happy and occupied, the tears and the laughter reminded me of this time of year in our house growing up. We spent the next few days taking little trips out, shopping, eating together, playing drinking games, card games, play-dough games, playing the guitar and singing. It was wicked.

The first time I went to Japan, I didn't know what to expect. I assumed it would be similar to Korea, and was surprised when it reminded me more of England! There are the simple things like, the roads being smaller there, they drive on the same side of the road as back home. People live in houses as opposed to apartment blocks like they do in Korea. Not only these things, but the variety in the shops reminded me of home, and an innovative feel of the Japanese, which I think Korea lacks! I felt the people were less polished in Japan, kind of more real. And it feels calmer some how, less pushing and shoving. Whats really nice about it for me is getting to stay in the country for a few days. Waking up in the morning to fresh air and quiet streets, such a treat!

It's kimchi time of year

2006-12-02T16:50:00.000+09:00

It's been so long since I last wrote, that I'd forgotten how to sign in and forgotten my password. I've now updated to a newer version of blogger and worked out how to translate the Korean version into English, so I'm all set to go.
I want to start by sharing my Thursday morning with you. My day started with, perhaps the most, Korean cultural experience, one could have whilst here. I made kim chi! Apparently it's the best time of year for it. My friends gave me plastic gloves, which I thought originally, where to prevent germs on our hands infecting the food, but as I got involved in the preparation, I felt a burning sensation on my arm, where some of the mix had got past the gloves and made contact with the skin, so I concluded the gloves were for my own safety and protection.
There appeared to be half a field's worth of cabbages in various silver bowls, as well as other bowls filled with the red spicy, spicy chili sauce, mixed with chopped radish and cucumber. The trick to making good kim chi, is to try and get the sauce into every nook and crannie.
The Koreans were very impressed as I squatted next to the big silver bowl and , leaf by leaf, rubbed the dangerous spices into the cabbage, then wrapped the cabbage leaves around itself and put it in a big bin bag!
Not only did this burn my arms, (it's a mucky procedure), but also my legs. It's a mystery to me how the Asians manage to squat on the floor for such long periods of time and look comfortable. I had to walk around regularly to give my legs a rest. I'd take a break after I'd spiced each cabbage. Is it because us Westerners have longer legs? Or because we don't eat enough kim chi?
Koreans swear that kim chi is the cure for every disease under the sun. Apparently it makes your eyes sparkle, your hair shine and prevents you from getting cancer! Funnily enough they don't mention how Korea has the largest number of stomach ulcers in the world. Nothing to do with all the spices now is it?!
Koreans feel that a meal without kim chi isn't a meal. You even get a side dish of it at the Italian restaurant!

The Islands

2006-08-20T18:23:00.000+09:00

The weather has changed. The monsoon has passed way to blazing humidity, and we're just coming through the other side of it, with blue skies and a bit of a breeze, so i'm not complaining anymore. These days I'm spending my Saturdays in the park with Rachael, who's teaching me guitar. I bought the cheapest one I could find on Monday and have been practicing everyday with painful fingers. It's worth it.

Yesterday whilst in the park, we attracted the attention of a small curious group of young Korean girls. They tried talking to us, and I explained we don't understand Korean (using the only phrase I really know!) But they continue, thinking that by looking us straight in the eye and talking really slowly, it might help. In response, we sang them the "kimchi song" (kimchi being the national dish of cabbage). We included other Korean dishes into our song to spice it up a little, like galbi and shabu shabu, and used all the Korean words we do know, as our attempt to communicate with them. It worked a treat and they wanted an encore. One of them gave us a little bunch of flowers each. So cute and with a face like pocahantis.

A month has passed since I last wrote. In this time I've visited two of the islands off Incheon. My first trip was to Deok Jeok Do, with Angela. Neither of us have a Korean guide book. We tried to do some research on how to get there by checking out the internet and talking to locals, but we still got lost, so just incase anyone wants to go, heres how we did it. We drove to Yunan Bu Du, on the 120 highway from Gyeyang gu. Yunan Bu Du is 15 minutes drive away from the Wolmido port (and was where we first got lost due to false information!). From there you go to the ferry port for your ticket, and can park your car in the car park there which is 15,000 won for 24 hours. You need to go to counter 6 or 7 to buy a one way ticket to the island. It costs 14,000 won one way, and i think they leave about 3 or 4 times a day. This is the ferry we took anyway, we later learned that there are two ferries, this one, which takes about 2 hours, and the faster one takes 50 minutes and costs 18,000 won, but I don't know where to take it from.

(Just after locking my car up and going to buy my ticket I realised I'd locked my keys and purse in the boot of the car!!!!!! Don't you just hate it when you do that!). Anyway, the ferry journey was beautiful and worth it just for that. Escaping the city, the air no longer effected by the pollution, there were blue skies all the way, something I hadn't seen for quite some time. The view from the boat is great as it makes its way past other scattered islands, and they're mainly untouched comparitively speaking. It really was a breath of fresh air. We arrived at Deok Jeok Do about5pm and didn't have any trouble getting a bus to take us to the beach, which cost 1000 won and took about 15 minutes. We were dropped off at the road and we made our way down a windy little path towards the beach. Arriving in the middle of a small but clusted area of tents we enquired about renting one for the night. Our chosen tent was at the point where sand and grass meet, facing out to sea we were very happy. 30,000 won a night, including all the blankets and pillows you'd need. Because I had locked my purse in my car, I didn't have any money for the trip! Thankfully Angela had enough on her to keep us going, but we budgetted to make sure we could get back on the ferry the next day. We had ramyon (noodles) for dinner and shared a bottle of soju, which came to a grand total of 5,000 won, bargain.

We walked around a bit, sat on the beach (got burnt!) read books, practiced poi and collected shells. Deok Jeok Do is beautiful in all its lush green that blanketts the island, and chrysanthiums that border the road. We didn't see any hotels, I really don't think there are any. Wow. No chain convienience stores. This place, for now has escaped the clutches on capitalism. So I plan to go back for Chusok. Assa.

More recently Lara and I visited Ganghwa Do. It's an hour from here. We drove in the sweltering heat, windows down, music up. Listening to Death Cab for Cutie, The Beatles, KT Tunstall and others, we cruised the island, visiting the beach and temples. Open green fields, mountains and beaches. There's a lot of agriculture here and the pace of life seems slower. A place "the city kids" think is dirty and boring. On the contary, it's cleaner than the rat race, and has a relaxed atmosphere. We only had time to visit two temples and the old fort, of the historic places. Ganghwa stood as the capital of Korea in times of invasion. The monks and workers at the temples are welcoming, offering information and answering questions. They vary in size. I prefered the smallest one we saw. In the shade of the trees and calming quietness. This temple houses important buddhist artifacts. Paintings very similair to Tibetan thankas, protected behind glass frames. The old fort too is quite impressive. Within its walls, it used to bind the community. There are temples, other brightly coloured buildings, an old copper bell and other bits and pieces that are clustered in different areas as you wonder around. It was a really good day out.

Monsoon Season

2006-07-17T18:44:00.000+09:00

So whilst the sun is shining back home in England, with the festivals well on their way, it's monsoon season here in South Korea. It sounds quite exotic, don't you think? It's not!

The winter here is cold, really cold, getting to about minus 10, maybe minus 15 with the wind chill. It's dry and long, I rememeber it raining about 5 times.
Then in about March, it starts to get bearable. When it's safe to go outside without your longjohns on, and long socks pulled up, without the hat, scarf, gloves and muliple layers. I found it quite liberating at the time to be free of the constricting materials thats make you look like you've put on a stone.

April is beautiful with all the blossom, and sunshine. A time when you can enjoy the breeze against your skin without the fear of getting frost bite. Since this point in the seasons, I thought the weather would be enjoyable. But I feel as though we've reverted back to a different kind of winter. The sky is consistantly grey, and the rain constantly falls. So much so that parts of Seoul are flooded and Jeju-do (island) is being torn apart by the violent rain and and wind.

What else to do in this weather but eat and watch films.

A Break From The Old Routine.

2006-07-02T22:22:00.000+09:00

So I've had the longest break from the computer since I got here. It's been a refreshing change. And Matt took over my internet obsession with unbeatable enthusiasm. His keen!

I took Matt to the airport yesterday afternoon, after his 12 day visit to the Republic of Korea. It was great seeing each other. Great to share my breaks with him and always have someone to eat with. We didn't get out and about as much as we could have, I couldn't take any days off work but it was still a break from the old routine and my schedule did loosen up a bit whilst he was here.

Maybe the biggest thing we did was go to City Hall in Seoul last Friday to watch Switzerland kick Koreas butt in the World Cup! Despite the lose, it was an amazing thing to see. Tens of thousands of people took to the streets, all dressed in red, wearing red flashing devil horns on their heads and Koreas flag over their shoulders. A mass of people like I've never seen before. At Glastonbury Festival, there are more people but not all in one compact place. The atmosphere was wicked. We found a place to watch one of the massive TV screens, on the wall around the subway, next to the telephone boxes upon which about 7 teenagers perched, and the roofs caved in threatening to give way.

After 2 beers, a sensation occurred inside that I hadn't given any thought to. I really needed a wee! No extra toilet facilities had been provided, I knew this was going to be trouble, but I didn't expect to find a que of 200 people or more! Argh! There was no way I could wait that long, so went on a quick mission to find another loo. Luckily I came across a que of girls which was only about 50 long. Oh to be a lad with a handy gadget! Of course there was nothing else for it, I went to gents, where I met a couple of other foreign girls with the same smart idea, and I only waited 5 minutes, result! After relieving myself I rushed back to my friends, only to find the police had formed a human barrier across the steps preventing anyone else getting through due to the crowds above. With a desperate look in my eye I pleaded with the softest looking policeman there, "chingu, chingu" (friends, friends) pointing up towards the hoards. It worked, of course, I was allowed up, the only person!

The game still hadn't started, people chanted everywhere "Dae Han Min Gook", others danced, took photos of the red sea of people and made friends quickly under the unity of the World Cup.

When the game started, whenever a Korean player had the ball, the crowds cheered. People gave away drinks and food. It was really something. However, energy levels began to drop as the game went on,and the sun started showing its brightness. By 6 a.m. Korea had lost, everyone was tired, people looked at the ground, what an anti-climax!

It was a strange coincidence I observed that night. The Korean team weren't wearing red on that game, unlike the thousands of supporters at City Hall, but instead Switzerland were. I think maybe all that positive energy got confused on it's way to Germany, and the red devils in Korea had their energy tranfered to Switzerland by mistake! It's possible!

The Flowtos!

2006-06-11T14:29:00.000+09:00

Have been having some trouble with getting photos up, so here they are, from the Flow Festival, in a seperate attempt.

The fire poy experience! That only left me with a few minor burns!
Lara and Dawn chilling out before night was upon us.
Rocking out, in the Korean way.
Scratching my style.

Don't ask!

Flow Festival

2006-06-10T19:51:00.000+09:00

It was perfect timing for me. The Flow Festival was the day before my birthday, so my celebratory birthday weekend, and admitted I like to make quite a big deal out of it, but just because I think it's a great excuse for a party. I wasn't too sure at first just because we knew it would be a mission to get to, we didn't manage to get tickets before hand and we didn't really know exactly where it was. But something clicked in me and I made the decision to go for it.

Saturday afternoon Dawn, Lara, Trevis, Wendy and I set off for the mountains of Gangwon-do. Wendy was in the driving seat and is a perfect companion for such events, some of the reasons are because she doesn't drink, is an insomniac and loves to drives! Therefore not having any problems with returning at 5.30 a.m. or driving for six hours in total to get us there and back. Bless her, she's a trooper.

As we drove north through the mountains, the air got clearer, the tall ugly buildings became less and we got more excited with party anticipation. We drove directly to the festival without any problems or getting lost, and made it there by 5pm.

The festival was situated next to a river and based between the trees. It made a great backdrop for the bands and DJs.

It was a good mix of Korean bands and foreigners. I feel like I've seen it all now I've witnessed Korean ska! There was also rock, alternative country, jazz, house, drum and bass, breaks, reggae, indie. It was great to see people feeling free and going wild. I find this kind of environment perfect for this. I danced for nearly the whole 12 hours we were there and had the added bonus of bumping into Carla again, I girl I met out in Seoul a couple of months ago, on her first weekend in the country. A crazy, dancing Kiwi, who encouraged me to use the fire poys. It was my second attempt, and I was lucky I didn't set my clothes on fire, although, apparently, nobody else could notice!!! Hmmm.
I've since made a full recovery from the weekend, and my body has stopped aching from all the dancing, it's the only exercise I'm getting, and I'm ready to do it again, but I think I might have to wait another year in this country for a festival like that, but if not, let me know.

Park Life

2006-06-10T19:12:00.000+09:00

The last two weeks have flown by. It's been good weather (although a storm has consumed us for the day!), there's been two national holidays, so two more days off work. I've been exploring parts of Seoul, mainly Hongdae and Ewha.

Ewha has a womans university, so it's a great place for clothes shopping, with mainly pedestrian streets and the odd quirky little cafe. Hongdae is good by day or night. It's the centre of the "underground" scene in Seoul, complete with many funky shops, record stores, a massive variety of restaurants Mexican, Thai, Italian, French. This is more amazing then it sounds, because the outside influences in Korea are few and far between. There's also lines of stalls, mostly selling the same stuff, but occasionally I got a glimpse of something from Thailand or India.

In the middle of all this is a park that students and drop outs hang out in. It's the first time I've seen a park being used like this over here. Normally they are strictly used by families with small children and competitive skaters who go round and round the designated skating area. So it's quite refreshing to see alcoholics and students with punked hair playing guitar, bumming around and experimenting with the boundaries of conformity in their society. As the sun sets here, more and more people gather to drink soju (25%), hangout, then head to a bar or club. What's especially exciting about this is, they're not booking clubs. They're clubs as I recognise them. With cool music, good vibes and great times. Which is where I'll be heading off tonight to see some English DJs in club called M2. Some of these DJs were playing at the Flow festival last weekend, and I hope to be seeing some of the same faces again.

Namsan Tower

2006-05-30T14:01:00.000+09:00

Seoul Tower is one of the citys most famous landmarks. It is in the city centre and gives the highest viewpoint, standing at 360 meters above sea level.

Dawn and I visited on Sunday, with hundreds of others. We queued for the bus, that was packed in the typical Asian style. Then we queued for the ticket and queued for the lift. But that was nothing like the queue to get out! There are no stairs! I can't imagine what the health and safety standards back home would do with that! And the queue was quite a peculiar shape, weaving in and out and round and round. It took people a good 15 minutes to work out where it began so they could get in line.

Anyway the view from the top was impressive. I never realised how many mountains there were around Seoul. It seems the city just keeps rolling through them, city after city after city. You can just about make out where I live in the picture taken from the top of the tower. Just look for the mountain in background on the left hand side!!! That's right by my apartment. Actually you might need a magnify glass.

Roll up! Roll up!

2006-05-23T19:32:00.000+09:00

The speakers are thumping with the heavy bass line from a remixed version of some 90s tune. The coloured lights are flashing in all directions, the girls are giving it everything they've got in tiny skirts and tassly titty tops, whilst the guys are standing back, not doing much but admiring the view and trying to look cool.

Sounds more like a typical nightclub in the early hours. But don't be fooled, it's early afternoon out on the streets of Korea. These performances occur regularly and their reason is inform the general public that there's a sale on! What I find the strangest about all this, is that they happen all year round. Even in the minus degrees, girls can be spotted at the side of the road jumping round with dance moves Take That would have been envious of, and still wearing hardly anything.

It doesn't surprise me that the amount of road accidents is so high here with all that distraction. Especially when I remember that Matt told me there were numerous car crashes at the roundabout in the little northern town of Sandbach, (England) after a lingerie shop opened there. Can you picture these girls strutting their stuff in your home town, outside Somerfield or some other shop? I don't think so!

Spring. The Transition Phase.

2006-05-13T23:38:00.000+09:00

Springs warm sun shines light on places I completely didn't see in the winter months. It brings bright colours to flowers along park edges, and a warming familiar scent. Parks, that in all honesty I can say I had no idea about until the sun came out. Places I pass everyday! But now the grass has de-frosted after the ice age and is no longer dead, yellow matter. It's green, inviting, relaxing, a place to spend weekend hours. The cherry blossom reminds me of the romantic orient I have pictured in my mind. What a difference all this brings to my everyday life here.

The warm weather brings people outside to sell their wares. On streets everywhere people are setting up markets of fruit, clothes, shoes, grains, plants, tapemeasures and other random pieces. Out of hibernation, patients venture out of their hospitals and can be spotted in their pajamas and occasionally dragging their drip with them!

This transition phase between freezing and rather warm, seems fairly short lived though. How pleased I was to be able to turn my heating off, save some extra pennies, and the environment. My excitement didn't last very long unfortunately. Before two weeks had passed mosquitos were making their way into my room to bite and suck my blood as I tried to sleep, keeping me awake till 3AM, buzzing round my head, leaving me with lumps on my forehead and darker circles under my eyes. There was only one thing for it. Keeping my window shut and turning on the air-conditioning! Not much of a saving on the utility bill after all.

The East Coast.

2006-05-12T23:36:00.000+09:00

A long drive and a short stay, but worth it to see Naksansa. This is the largest stone staue of Buddha in the Orient. Located on a cliff between the East Sea and the mountains, this place has an amazing atmosphere. Maybe also because it was Buddhas birthday when four friends and I visited. The sad news is that Naksan temple was 1300 years old when it was burnt down with the forest fire April 2005. Whilst there I wrote the names of my family on a card, along with a prayer and attached it to one of the lanterns. There, blowing in the wind, Buddists believe my prayer will be whisped up and my family and I will be protected. So I left my prayer there, and I took my memories of Naksansa with me, in the rain, back to Incheon.

On The Road!

2006-05-11T23:34:00.000+09:00

I've shared with my friends the confusions and difficulties I have with driving on the roads here. Not only am I driving on the right hand side of the road for the first time, but I'm sharing the road with a nation of drivers that the British government warn about on the 'Foreign and Commonwealth' travel information website. The opening line being, "The ROK has one of the highest rates of traffic death in the world"! (but they do warn about every country in the world in some respect) and if that wasn't bad enough, I actually share the pavement with them too, "You should watch out for motorcycles traveling at speed on pavements." Quoted from the same website.

My confusions rise because here, we can turn right on a red light, but can't turn left on a green light! This is new to me. It appears that nobody else's indicators work, but their hazards lights are fine and used frequently, especially when cutting me off, driving at ridiculous speeds, going through redlights or just weaving in and out of the traffic. It's almost like it's a way to apologize for really bad driving. Just stick the hazards on and everything will be fine!!!! Motorcyclists ride like it's a computer game, and nobody lets emergency service transport past them, even with their sirens blaring. My difficulties are keeping my cool on the road with this to contend with. My friend Dawn drives "with one hand on the horn and one hand giving the finger!" It's testing times.

Organised Life.

2006-05-03T22:46:00.000+09:00

It appears to me that Korea is the most organized and structured society I have yet to come across.

When meeting someone for the first time, a series of questions follow, these relate mainly to age (first and foremost) job, education and the area that you live. This allows people to know where they stand with each other in terms of honor and hierarchy. Then people can act accordingly.

When eating with a group of Koreas, the most respected sits at the head of the table. That person will start eating first, then others may join in . When that person has finished, others should also finish. No one should have an empty glass at the table, and it is very impolite to pour yourself a drink. So the tip is to top up everyones drinks, then someone will do the same for you. When pouring, you do so with both hands, and the receiving person will lift their glass with both hands.

Whenever handing anything to anyone, it is polite to use both hands again, or to extend your right arm, supported by your left hand at the elbow! It's actually more complicated than this, but I don't know all the ins and outs!

Anyway, enough about that, the point I really want to share with you, is that this structure continues into nearly all areas in Korean life, including the night clubs!

The majority of the nightclubs here are 'booking clubs'. This means you pay a high fee for entrance and the table. With the table you get a platter of fruit, nuts, little snacks and a fair few beers. It might sound a bit glam, but this is an organized meatmarket. Any man that wants any girl in there, to join him, just needs to let the staff know. Then it is the waiters responsibility to take the young girl over to the man, where he has the opportunity to try and win her over. "But what if she doesn't want to go?" She doesn't have a choice! On more than one occasion I have seen waiters dragging girls by their arm. It seems like a bit of a strange set up to me, but I'm English. The girls know what they're getting themselves into when they pay 20,000 won to get in.

Or do they? I didn't! It was my first time to a booking club, and I was there for the music, honestly! Which wasn't that great really. After being in there for about 20 minutes, sat at our table with a friend, one of the waiters came over saying "booking, booking". I thought he was introducing himself, so I told him what my name was. He looked confused and went away. Then a female member of staff came over saying the same thing. At that point I realized they wouldn't all have the same name. I looked at my friend who was pushing me out of the booth, eager to have this experience. We were taken by the arm over a table of two men. It was a bit of a strange atmosphere at the table. Their English was worse than our Korean! We sat it out for a little while. I got hand fed tomatoes and given 4 shots of whiskey, had my face stroked and was told I was beautiful. It was all a quick affair really because then the music got the better of me, and I had the urge to dance, and hide! Although I always have loved tomatoes.

What To Listen To?

2006-04-22T22:51:00.000+09:00

The photo is taken from the mountain in Gyeyang, of Gyeyang-Gu, in Incheon, known to foreigners as Legoland!!

Korea is a rollercoaster for me. Time flies, then moves in slowmotion. I love it then I hate it. So really, it is life continuing in another country.

One of the great things about being in place where I am surrounded by a language I dont understand, where everyone has great difficulty in understanding me, even those who can speak English, (because they can't grasp the English accent. Most of the world learns American as a second language, not English!) is......not having to listen to everyones crap.

Getting into a lift with two cleaning ladies. You know they're having a moan about people leaving rubbish outside of their rooms, and about how many more floors they have to clean. But I dont have to listen to it. The woman in front of the que, when I go to pay my bills, I know she's having a go about being over charged, but I can just switch off.

I can't read all the magazines trying to pollute my mind, I cant read the sign posts when I get lost, and I can't read how much fat is in a chocolate bar.