The highlights...

Traveling can often be totally overwhelming; the sights, sounds, smells that surround you and speeds at which everything moves are alien and it takes a couple of days to adapt and adjust to your new surroundings.

Likewise, after 5 weeks in India it takes 48 hrs or so to adjust back to Paris life - people smoking everywhere, not having to hold someone else's chicken or child on the bus and the lack of spices in the food. In fact I shouted at my taxi driver on the way home from the airport as I was truly terrified at the speed he was driving at.
'Mais Madame', he said, 'I am well within the speed limit!' and he was, but as I hadn't traveled faster than about 40kmh for the last month suddenly 120kmh felt like warp speed.

Its only after i've adapted back to our 'speed of light' Western lifestyle I can sit down and reflect on my trip, and after a month back in Paris there are many highlights that remain bright in my memory:

Bouncing around in the jeep convoy through the tea-plantations to Darjeeling

Crawling out of my sleeping bag to see sunrise on Kanchenjunga and Everest

Trekking with Tom and Rob down through the cardamom forests

Dawn over the Tibetan plateau, freezing, but in the company of warm friends!

Trekking to Pelling with Daphna and Arvi - the Khecheopalri Kids!

Having Jeroen fill an entire page of my notebook with book and music recommendations, then racing round Kolkata in taxis

Having out of trains with Arvi

Sunsets in Puri

and of course all the food!

As you'll notice from most of the photos, many of my highlights are moments i've shared with people i've met along the way, and theres a very good reason for this. The majority of people I meet traveling are open-minded, adventurous, fun loving, inquisitive, generous, spontaneous, cultured and eager to share everything - from travel tales, tips and warnings to their food and company for a few days.

Traveling to a foreign country is always a rich experience and my trip to India was made all the more so by the people I met there. So to all my travel companions in 2007 I say 'Thank you!' for helping make my journeys so much fun, and see you somewhere off the beaten track in 2008!

x

Good food...

Good friends...

(you know who you are...)

and some great music...

= perfect bank holiday weekend

merci

x

On the road again...

I've made references to traveling companions in previous posts and the bonds formed with complete strangers when you find yourselves in bizarre situations or moments of extreme beauty in strange places. Thats where I met Mat (previously known as 'The American') as we bussed out of Beijing on a cold clear December morning towards the Great Wall of China.

The day we spent walking the wall was truely awesome. On countless occassions during the hike I had to remind myself I was in the middle of China standing on one of the wonders of the world in beautiful sunshine. Its an experience thats been hardcoded into my memory, and its a memory that Mat and I will always share.

Mat was in Paris when I was in Argentina but we'd promised to try to travel again together at somepoint and so dates were set and flights booked for an Irish roadtrip rendez-vous.

The last time I was in Belfast was back in 1995 when the Troubles were very much apparent. I remember driving up across the Newry checkpoint which resembled a war zone with armoured tanks and rocket launchers lining the road and I clearly remember the night I spent in the Stormont hotel looking out over the city as it burnt and wondering if the streets would be opened again by morning so that I could get to my meeting. Belfast was a broken city; divided and explosive with no sign of peace in sight.

When I arrived in Sarajevo back in 2001 SFOR were doing their best to keep the fragile peace but the tensions between the ethnic groups were all too tangiable and the violence bubbled up regularly in pockets around towns and on the borders. It felt like war and it felt all to famililar - it felt like Belfast. I've resisted the urge to go back to Sarajevo as i'm afraid nothing is going to have changed but since 1998 things have moved on in Belfast and the city I discovered was vibrant, booming and basking in good weather with students sunning themselves in the parks and sidewalk cafes spilling out into the streets.

There are still sparodic tensions (old habits die hard) and the wall that divided Catholics from Protestants is still in place and closed each night, but these days Belfast is celebrating its future whilst remembering its past and marketing its history in the form of black taxi tours - not to be proud of its Troubles but so as to learn and not to forget. The 90 min taxi tour that Mat and I took was truely a whistle stop tour of the history and geography of Ireland and Belfast, much of which is emblazoned on the buildings and walls in murals and it gave us a very broad and yet very real taste of what the city has been through, and how far its come in the last 12 years.

Next morning with the wind in our wheels we drove North to the Giant's Causeway and to explore the Northern Irish coast.

Back thousands of years ago when giants roamed the earth and the moon was made of cheese Fin McCool (the local Irish giant) built this causeway to Scotland so as to fight his Scottish nemisis, Benandonner. Since then some clever scientists have debunked this legend claiming that the huge hexagonal stones were formed when basaltic rock from volcanic eruptions cooled into these regular shapes. Either way, giants or volcanoes, the causeway definitly is cool and we had a great couple of hours clambering over the columns and up the stepped cliffs.

Although the main area was quite touristy armed with the Lonely Planet's 'Hiking in Ireland' guide book and picnics in our daypacks after only a short walk along the clifftops we pretty much had the place to ourselves and after lunch found the perfect place to snooze in the sunshine. This had become a bit of a habit; hike, picnic, snooze and if anyone from Lonely Planet is reading i'd be happy to contribute a couple of entries to the 'Napping in Ireland' guide book when its published.

The perfect spot for a snooze.

The other habit we feel into all to easily was that of frequenting Irish pubs...

Irish bars are legendary, quite literally the world over, for their hospitality and music, and none more so than in Ireland itself where going to the pub is almost a full body-contact sport when the band is playing and the place is jumping.

The good weather had left us and the usualy Irish showers and rain returned so next morning we jumped in the car, threw away the map, pulled out the compass and headed West until we hit the water.


This is the stuff that great road trips are made of; stunning scenery, good music, twisty winding lanes and nothing but the open road and the unexpected ahead.

What we'd certainly not expected was to find the small town of Ardara in which every pub and bar on the high street was hosting (inside and out) a band, group of fiddlers, flautists and whistler players for their weekend music festival.

It seems every kid in Ireland is born with an instrument tucked under their chin or in their mouth and even the most timid of 8-year olds in pink sweatshirts armed only with a junior sized accordian is capable of getting an entire pub up and jumping or singing. Like all good road trips our Irish jaunt needed a themesong and with 'Dirty old town', 'The gambler' and 'Molly Malone' being bashed out in every pub we set foot in we had plenty to choose from and hearing any of them ever again is sure to bring back the memories of that spectacular day.

Our final days were spent in Dublin wandering the town by day and the bars by night (cue 'Dirty old town'...) with some Irish friends Mat had made back in Thailand.



The next morning I picked up the headlines in the Irish Times to find that the country had completed its troubled journey and jumped into a new phase of peace with the end of control from London in Northern Ireland and power sharing agreed between two previous enemies, Ian Paisley and Martin McGuiness. History completes its cycle in Northern Ireland and I hope someday i'll see the same cycle run its course in Sarajevo. For now though our little roadtrip had run its course and Mat and I went our seperate ways at Dublin airport knowing our travels will probably cross again sometime, someplace now that we've some great Irish memories to tack up alongside those great wall moments.

Los Amigos

One of the things I love about solo travel is that you meet other like-minded travellers. Some you meet on the road (bus buddies) with whom you spend X hours sat side by side. Some you meet in hostel dorms or kitchens and some you meet out and about, trekking, at a museum, the possibilities are unlimited. All of these friends however seem to fall into one of two catagories; those whom you meet for a couple of hours/days and may never see again, and those with whom you travel for a while and become good friends.

Johan and I finally managed to get ourselves on a bus out of El Chalten for the arduous 2 day bus journey on the infamous Route 40 that follows the Andes North. Personally I would have liked to have spent more time in the mountains, especially now that the weather had improved but Johan had a rdv with a friend in Bolivia so after 10 days of travelling together we said our goodbye promising to keep in touch, knowing that our Laguna de les Tres adventure would always be a strong bond between us. I would have loved to have continued North with him but had an important rdv in Bariloche to arrange...

Back 7 years ago I landed in Hanoi on a cold dark wet February evening and over the next couple of days became friends with Martin from Holland. We hung out in Hanoi and then headed in different directions. Vietnam being a long thin country though a week or so later out paths crossed and for about 2 weeks, along with a Danish couple and two Brits, we travelled together. Those of you who remember my ramblings from way back then may remember ´The Night of a Thousand Badgers´- a night that i´ll never forget and an experience that cemented Martin and my friendship for life. Not put off by the ordeal Martin and I both continue to travel and keep in touch, and so it came to be that we´d organised a rdv in Bariloche (Argentina´s answer to Switerland, complete with chocolate and St Bernards...)

He and his girlfriend, Ingeborg, quit their jobs and have been bumbling around S. America for the last 6 months and it was truely awesome to see Martin again, re-live those Vietnam memories ( favourite quote from Martin: ´we should have died so many times on those motorbikes´, hes right!) and meet Ingeborg. Their plans are to keep travelling for quite a while longer (7-years were mentioned...) and i´m insanely jealous that their able to take their time and see more of the country. I would have loved to have stuck around and spent more time with them. I´m grateful that we managed to arrange our RDV though I didn´t take any photos-doh!- and hope that we dont have to wait another 7 years before we all meet up again (M&I - Les Alps are calling...).

Thats the difference between bus buddies and good friends. With good friends even after 7 years you´re able to pick up right where you left off. And one of the joys of these friendships is the element of serendipity. Of not knowing when your paths may cross again.
Imagine my surprise when 3 days later arriving in a hostel early morning in Mendoza i´m tapped on the shoulder and theres Johan again. Plans may change but good friends don´t.

xxx

ps. For those of you that answered ´West´ i´m sorry to report that you´ll not be continuing the adventure with us. With at least 56hrs of bus journey between here and Buenos Aires (to the East) heading further West doesn´t make sense, especially given that Chile is more expensive than Argentina and El Nino is screwing with the passes over the Andes. We´ll save Chile for another time.
At the risk of sounding like I have a plan the next 5-6 days are going to be spent in the Central Sierras before heading NorthEast up to the Brasilian border for Iguazu Falls. We´ll see...

Buenos Aires to Ushuaia

I thought i´d struck lucky on the plane when I persuade the check-in guy to give me an emergency isle seat but hadn´t bet on the Argentinian´s on the flight turning the galley area into an impromtu tapas bar and partying just feet away from me all night long. It didn´t really matter though as for the first time in a very long time I´M ON HOLIDAY!!!!

Having recently visited the Paris of the East (Shanghai) after 13hrs of flight I found myself in the Paris of South America - Buenos Aires, where it seems life revolves around the tango and steak.
Sunday the San Telmo area becomes a sprawling street market where at every intersection the cafes spill out on to the streets and dancers strut their stuff to any one of the numerous bands. The ambiance is relaxed but the passion is high and its almost impossible not to get intoxicated by it all.
Outside of the San Telmo area the city has a much more commerical feel and the pace quickens ensuring you know BA is where business is at and theres money to be made.

I´d arrived in BA sunday morning and had booked a flight down to Ushuaia for Monday afternoon but didn´t end up there until the wee hours of Tuesday morning thanks to El Nino. Yep, 2007 is El Nino year and the storms somewhere in central Argentina had knocked out the air traffic control & radar systems plunging the country back into the dark ages and leaving passengers stranded. I should count myself lucky at only being delayed 4 hours, some other passengers were going nowhere for the forseeable future.
El Nino had also brought early snow to Ushuaia so on my first morning I awoke to breathtaking blue skies and snow capped mountains. Ushuaia is sandwiched between these mountains and the Beagle channel and touts itself as the Southern most city on earth. In the hostel I met up with an English guy (Alex) and a Swede (Johan) and the 3 of us set off up the hills behind town to the nearby glacier.
I have to say the glacier was somewhat unimpressive but the views from the top and getting to lark about in the snow definitly made up for it.
I left Ushuaia yesterday having been blown away by the scenery on the Beagle channel and had a great couple of hours trekking in the Tierra Del Fuego national park. I´ll post photos once I get to a place with a fast enough connection to let me upload.

Leaving Ushuaia was tough in that I felt I could have easily spent another couple of days soaking up the scenery and that the radar and air traffic systems are still not fixed so the flight to El Calafate was delayed by 3 hours. I have to say it was one of the best delays i´ve had in a while as Alex, Johan and I sat on a grass verge outside the small terminal in the sunshine with a bottle of cheap Argentinan Shiraz and a glorious view of the mountains. Thats what backpackings all about, impromptu friends and no fixed agenda.



x

SShhhhhhhhhh...




After a quick side trip to the UK, i'm now back in Paris where everything is just as I left it. Well almost...

Work is still work. Same people, same building, same quartier. Honestly it feels like I never went away.

My friends, thankfully, are all here, exactly where I left them; and like me a little older and none the wiser.

And my apartment is still here, same view, same crazy neighbour, only now theres 2 of us living here (well 3 including Mixie).

Given that i'm only in town for 2 weeks and both Doug and I are trying to save to by places of our own we've decided to 'co-habit' for a while. All in all its working out quite well, given that we hardly ever see each other. Doug is on the 'evil' shift at France 24 so each morning at 3am an alarm rings and he pootles off to work. In the evening when I come home hes tucked up in bed (which is why we're having to be extra quiet right now...).

We've taken the 'ships in the night' one step further and created 'blogs in the bathroom' (or 'blogs in the bog' as I prefer to call it). This new form of communication entails mindless scribblings and reminders from him stuck on the bathroom sink at some horrible hour in the morning and non-witty responses from me, complete with coffee and porridge breakfast stains which he picks up when he comes home mid-afternoon. Bizarre, but it works.

It's great to be at home but still effectively 'camping'. I sleep on the sofa, i'm living out of an old shipping trunk and everything feels very temporary. It doesn't really bother me and its all good practise for my future hobo aspirations.

x

Sejour bref...


Being in HK is a good experience, and one that might be great if I had time to get out an enjoy it, but being based here temporarily is awkward. I have a funky little apartment but it doesn't feel like home (no matter how many books I buy) and knowing my time is limited means i'm less motivated to go out and build up a social life.



Originally I was only supposed to be here until the end of Jan so when it became obvious that my stay would be extended I have to admit I was pissed. I miss my friends, I miss my bath, I miss my books and I miss the sky. Sometime I feel like I go whole days without seeing more than a couple of square inchs of the stuff here and although i'm not claustrophobic I certainly feel cramped in this concrete metropolis. Therefore having the opportunity to get back to Paris for a week was fantastic.






Paris hadn't changed a bit, although I have to say that after HK it looked somewhat poor & shabby. January remains grey, streaked with rain and that special flat light that only comes out in winter, the metro was dirty and crowded and both the number of homeless (sdf) and the amount of dog shit on the streets seemed to have doubled. I wouldn't have exchanged it for the world though.





In Paris I can walk from one side of the city to the other, without having to take a single skyway, tunnel or pass through a mall, the number of independant bars and cafes heavily outways the number of Starbucks, not all the shops are chain brands and there is sky everywhere.

On top of this theres the dining out. Cheese, cheese and more cheese. Oysters by the dozen (make that 2 dozen), great wines, huge hunks of meet and delicate deserts.



What really makes Paris home though is none of this, its my friends. Whether it was coffee on the terrace, quick lunch or full blown dinner every mealtime was an opportunity to catch up with my friends and I loved it. Thanks to all of you who made yourselves available at such short notice and Cama and Doug for putting me up, and sorry to those of you that I didn't spend enough time with. Dont worry though, HK has no hold on me and i'll be home again before you know it!



x

The perfect Christmas

Everyone that knows me knows I cant stand Christmas. Whether you're talking about it from either a religious or commercial perspective as far as I'm concerned its one big farce.
What I do love about Christmas however is that its a great opportunity to get together with a group of friends and do something you'd not normally get up to. Last year was a prime example.

On Christmas eve when everyone was swarming to the stores I went to Musée d'Orsay with Doug & Steven. Usually you'd have to queue for an hour to get in an then jostle with others in order to see the art, but last year we strolled through the doors and had the place practically to ourselves for a couple of hours.
Christmas day was spent with a group of us at the cinema watching a marathon 3 films back to back with only a short pause for beers and burgers at lunchtime.

This year was a little bit different what with being stuck in HK. The benefit of being here is that rather than cold damp Parisian weather Christmas is bathed in blue skies and bright sunshine, although there is none of that horrid humidity or mist that usually dogs the island. Therefore Christmas was the perfect opportunity to get outside and get back to those hills.

On Sunday I met up with Ellen, a friend of a friend in Berlin, and we walked back over the route I did last week, tacking on to the tail of it the next leg of the HK Island trail which took us up to Jardine's Lookout (great views over the city) and then on to the summit of Mount Parker. Getting there was a good strenuous hike but it was the 589 steps down that killed me. Having hiked for a full 7 hours we ended the day in style, seeing in Christmas with big plates of sushi followed by swanky cocktails in the bar at the Mandarin Oriental.

Wanting to make the most of the day off on Christmas Day I met up with Emma and her girlfriend and we hiked the Dragon's Back trail out to Shek-O, ending up on the beach with just enough time for a quick paddle before the sunset. And to finish the day off, Thai green curry in a little roadside restaurant. That is my idea of a perfect Christmas.

For New Year's we're going to hike the New Territories and I cant wait!

x

Mixie from Macao

Hi there, Mixie here! Kristen's been working too much recently which doesn't make for interesting blogging so i've decided to take over this part of the show.

As my friend Emma needed to leave HK in order to get her visa stamped I suggested we take a trip to Macao to see the sights, and also catch up with my older sister, Sixie who i've not seen in a couple of years. Sixie, and I aren't really very close, shes all religious and 'pure' so we dont share many common interests but still, its good to see her from time to time.

Macao being an old Portugese enclave its got a bit of a Catholic groove going on and has some famous old ruins. We'd arranged to meet Sixie at the steps of the Ruinas se Sao Paulo and there she was, with about 500 other people taking in the sight.





With the obligatory touristy photos out of the way we snuck down the alleys and side streets and found some great little places.

The architecture definitly has a European feel, and as there aren't many high rises and the population is less dense than HK it has a much slower feel to it. Macao also has something that HK doesn't.... sky! Yep, having been hemmed in by buildings i'd forgotten what an expanse of sky looked like!


Down one of the alleys Sixie showed us a temple she goes to an insisted that we meet her spiritual leader.
I don't really understand what his role is. I think hes her Yoda or something, either way he has a cool little house and seemed like a pretty laid back kinda guy.



After the religious dose I needed something a little more lively so we headed down towards the water and the islands famous casinos. As the sun was setting the town turned into Vegas with coloured neon flashing and blinking on every building. Sixie absolutely refused to come into a casino hall with me, refering to them as dens of crime and vice (yeah right) so we went our seperate ways outside - She no doubt had some important Hail Mary's to say or something...

They wont let you take photos inside the casino but the place was packed with people playing roulette, black jack and poker, some of whom looked like they'd been sat at the tables for hours on end.


I came home a couple of dollars up and Emma got her work permit stamped so all in all a very successful days trip. We'll no doubt be heading back there again soon!

Night out with Mixie-san



My Italian friend Trixie ( see her blog link off to the right) put me in touch with her friend and colleague Mixie who despite being of Japanese origins spends a fair amount of her time here in HK. I haven't had much time to get out and enjoy myself or see much of the town so when Mixie offered to show me around I jumped at the chance.

We meet up next to a small temple in Kowloon and I was a little shocked to see how timid and reserved she was, especially knowing Trixie, however as the evening went on I got to know the real Mixie a little better...

and it wasn't long before we were out on the town, hopping between restaurants and bars with me having trouble keeping up with her little legs.








And by the end of the night that shy, reserved demeanour had crumpled...