Go fly a kite...


Last weekend, on a bit of a whim, my friend Laurent and I chucked the bare essentials and my kite into his car and headed for the coast.

The forecast was blustery showers, which would have made for perfect kite flying conditions, but once again the weather men were wrong and we arrived to find bright sunshine, clear skies and not a breath, not even a whisper of wind. Damn!



Luckily we had a plan B, and made our way through beautiful serene Normandy villages that just 60 years back were the backdrop for the D-day landings.

Its only when you grow up that you realise just how freaking pointless some of the hours you spent at school were. Of course maths is damn useful, as are the other 2 R's, and a good foundation of science, the arts and a language never hurt anyone. But why on earth did we spent weeks learning dead kings & queens, the Battle of Hastings and the Spanish crusaders when really none of that matters? Why did we breeze through the first & second world wars in a couple of wet afternoon classes with just crappy news clippings and a Robert Graves poem for backdrop when what happened then shaped our world and lives so significantly today?

My frustration stems from me now being old enough to appreciate the outcome and after effects of June 6th 1944. Unfortunately my crappy education left me none the wiser as to what really happened, either on that day or the events in the weeks and years beforehand.



Luckily the American Battle Monuments Commission have an incredibly little museum at the American Cemetery in Colleville sur Mer. It walks you through the 'highlights' of WWII with a series of displays that helped me understand the sheer enormity of what the allied forces did back then.

As a project manager I'm sensitive to the logistics and attention to detail required to pull something off well and the team work that's needed to make it all happen. Never had a I really stopped and thought about just how much work, planning, co-ordination and imagination went on back then. For example I never knew about 'Rupert'.



Standing about 4ft tall made from sacking and stuffed full of tiny 'fire-cracker' explosives, hundreds of self-destructing 'Ruperts' were parachuted behind enemy lines along the coast just days before the invasion. The men that landed with them were armed with flare guns and record players and their faux attacks caused panic and confusion, leading German forces away from the actual landing sites.
'Ruperts' were just one of the ways the allied forces out-foxed the enemy. Whole battalions of inflatable tanks were pitched out in fields along the British coast to intimidate the Luftwaffe spy planes and their sneaky photographers.

The ingenious of the tactics are captivating but the weight of what's beyond the museum helps put everything into perspective.




Rows upon rows upon rows of graves; small white crosses and stars of David stretch as far as the eye can see, perfectly tended with not a blade of grass or leaf out of place. Off to the right lies Omaha beach; peaceful, calm, flat, still. Its horribly surreal, horribly still.
Looking left you see Juno, in the distance is Gold, off right sits Sword, and shimmering in the distant heat is Utah. Many of the physical traces of what happened here have disappeared but the names have stuck. No one seems to remember what the beaches were called before.



Leaving Colleville with heavy hearts we continued West to 'Point du Hoc' where the physical scars of war remain.
The site sits 100ft (30m) up a sheer cliff face and was the home to some Nazi's heavy guns that were capable of doing some serious damage to the allied flotilla and landing forces. The 2nd Ranger's relentlessly scaled the cliff to take out the guns and of the 225+ that started out only 90 were still alive and fit to fight after 2 days. The assault on the whole was a bit of a blunder as the guns had been moved a mile away just days beforehand, but the story demonstrates well the selflessness and determination with which those guys fought and the hundreds of huge bomb holes around the site ensures you understand just how violent and relentless the battle was.



I didn't learn enough about what happened back then in my two days on the coast but I'm pretty sure i'll be going back again sometime and i'll start doing my homework so i'm better prepared next time. I did learn though that Laurent's grandfather fought in North Africa, like my grandfather, under Mountbatten. Unfortunately its not surprising that French and English neighbours grandfathers fought together thousands of miles away 60-odd years ago - everyone's grandfathers were fighting back then.

Sadly the weather never did deteriorate, the sun stayed out and the wind stayed away for the entire weekend. We made feeble attempts to get the kite up but failed, hanging out in the sunshine and eating hot dogs and sauerkraut instead! I'm not complaining though, like I said, I know i'll be going back.





x

If only...


When will a software package offer me what i'm truely looking for?
This for example!

Ctrl+Y
Ctrl+Y
Crtl+Y

its not working!!!

Circles 'round the sun




Finally I have an explanation as to that strange circle around the sun I spied in Sicily. (standby for nerdy content...)

Turns out its not an omen signalling Etna's eruption (although it could have been) but is instead a 22° Halo...

"A 22° halo is a rather frequently appearing halo, an optical phenomenon forming a circle 22° around the sun, or occasionally the Moon. It forms as sunlight is refracted in hexagonal ice crystals suspended in the atmosphere. As the light beam passes through two sides of the prism forming a 60° angle, the angle of minimum deviation is almost 22° (e.g. 21,84° in average; 21,54° for red and 22.37 for blue.) This wavelength-dependent variation in refraction causes the inner edge of the circle to be reddish while the outer edge is bluish. " Wikipedia

So there you have it!

x

Sleeping beauty?





She was a sleepy snoozy giant when I left her, but it looks like all that jumping up and down and 'lava dancing' I did on Friday woke up old Etna...



More photos from my Sicilian roadtrip here. Unfortunately i'm unable to post tastes or flavours so you'll just have to imagine all the delicious coffee, pasta and gelato I munched my way through ;-)

x

Try this headline: Black Hole Eats Earth...


Please stow your meal trays and put your seats backs in the upright position - Preparing for a big bang?

Feeling funny...

Somethings not right. Its almost mid-April and i've only been on a handful of planes, haven't stepped off the continent and haven't been above 1,400m...

This time last year i'd clocked 7 weeks in HK, more than a month in S America and was getting ready for a road trip round Ireland. To date in 2008 i've been to Manchester, London, Bristol and if all goes well will go to Den Haag and Utrecht next weekend. My horizons are shrinking and i'm slowly slowly suffocating.

I need light... space... air... sky...
I need this:





more precisely, I need a very generous sponsor... any offers anyone?

x

Is this what they call global warming...


bring your scarf and gloves if you're popping in for a cuppa anytime soon.

x

New Game...



It used to be that when I was feeling blue i'd go online and check out how crap the weather was in London, or some other hell hole, and that would cheer me up.

Now I go online and convert the total of my hard earned Euro savings account into dollars, and suddenly I'm rich !





x

Joyeuses Pâques!

The things we forgot to remember

You can't teach an old dog new tricks - so the saying goes. But you can remind them of their old tricks!

Yesterday I went walking in the forest around Paris with my friend Liz, a fellow Brit and Radio 4 fan. 'I just listen to it on my computer' she said, and I kicked myself for not having thought of streaming it in sooner.

When I lived in the UK some 10 years ago I was an avid Radio 4 listener. Saturday mornings I would refuse to leave bed until 'Home Truths' with John Peel had finished and just about every night saw me dozing off to the sounds of "Viking & Dogger; 4, backing to 5 SSW; 6 miles; 1012 and rising. " Now, thanks to the wonders of modern technology, I'm once again turned in and turned on by some of the UK's, nay the world's, best radio reporting.
(For the US readers out there, Radio 4 is the UK's equivalent of NPR. ie. Intelligent broadcasting.)


The spectrum of programs available is blinding. Just this evening i've heard:

• An chilling episode from the radio play 'We need to talk about Kevin', taken from the 2003 novel by Lionel Shriver, describing a fictional school massacre and the perspective of the murder's mother.
• A news article announcing that potential British Army officers will be taken to theatre, arts and opera events to put them outside of their comfort zones and improve their powers of interpretation and perception.
• A fascinating magazine program called 'Cross Continents' shedding light on Korea's 'Extreme Sports' and its star athletes, ie. Networked role playing computer games and those you and I would call 'Nerds' or addicts.
• And a program by Michael Portillo (former politician, historian and now keen media commentator), 'The Things We Forgot To Remember'.

When I was walking with Liz yesterday she mentioned that UNESCO will be putting together a conference to commemorate the Holocaust on Jan 27th, International Holocaust Day. We discussed how this will be mostly a politically motivated event and how looking back at the events of 50 years ago appears to hold a higher priority than addressing the genocides going on in the world today.

It's estimated that 6 million European Jews were killed during the holocaust and any child in most developed country's could tell you at least the headline of history surrounding the event.
Yet how many of us have heard of the Bengal Famine that occurred during, and as a result of, WWII and killed almost as many people? I certainly hadn't.

If you only make time for one thing this week please click on the link above and stream/podcast/download what I consider to be an excellent radio documentary on an event no-one commemorates, few history books report and most of us remain ignorant of. Not only is it a fascinating piece articles but its beautifully presented too.

I warn you, now that i've remembered Radio 4, its not something i'm likely to let you forget. Standby for a host of blogs bullying you to tune in too.

K

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

Unwieldy Baggage Packers - take note!

Hell on wheels, By Seth Stevenson

IHT, Friday, December 21, 2007

ABOARD SEVEN SEAS MARINER, Pacific Ocean: You'd rather not think about it - and you never, ever talk about it - but you and I both know that you've run over feet.

You can rationalize. (The airport concourse was crowded. You were distracted, looking up at the departures board.) But come clean. You know it's happening. You can feel your rolling suitcase treating a stranger's ankle as a speed bump. You can hear the swallowed yelp of pain.

And do you apologize? You might mumble "sorry" over a shoulder.

But you never break stride. Instead, you steer into the Chili's restaurant next to your gate, your bag clipping a waitress' shin as you wheel to the bar. (Go ahead, drown your guilt in that frozen margarita. It won't cure her limp.)

Aboard the plane, the wanton destruction continues. For the central fallacy of the wheeled luggage trend is that your suitcase will roll smoothly up the aisle in coach. Lie!

Your bag lurches along, catching on seat handles, bumping knees and elbows. You pull harder when it gives resistance. You pull harder still. And you look back to see your bag scraping against the thigh of an obese seated passenger. His haunch has spilled into the aisle to meet the wrath of your ballistic nylon.

When you at last reach your seat, do you gracefully collapse your telescoping handle and lightly tuck your bag in the overhead compartment? No, your handle jams, holding up the line behind you. And your bag won't fit because all the other bags up there also have huge, jutting wheels.

Plus - particularly if you are a petite, elderly woman (a demographic I am in most cases quite fond of, I promise you) - you sometimes can't lift your bag at all. This is because those wheels have freed you from having to rely on your own muscle power, or a hired valet. You're encouraged to over-pack to such a degree that you can no longer move your bag without wheels. So you stagger weakly under its weight until (if I see you) I assist you with it or (if I don't) you drop it on my head - bludgeoning me with 70 pounds of toiletries.

People, you never need more clothes than you can comfortably carry in a shoulder bag. Soldiers in 'Nam got by with less gear than the average executive now packs for a two-day trip. Unless you are a deep-sea diver or, maybe, an iron-ore salesman, your luggage really shouldn't necessitate load-bearing wheels.

Also: aesthetics. Your dorky rolling bag doesn't say, "I'm embarking on a voyage." It says, "I'm going to a conference in Cleveland." And maybe you are, but you don't have to advertise it. The swashbuckling adventurer hoists a leather rucksack, or a battered canvas duffel. He doesn't tug his bag behind him on a leash like a stubborn and especially boring pet.

It's easy to see the appeal of wheeled luggage, of course. It eases our burdens and lifts the weight off our shoulders. It keeps our neatly pressed jackets un-mussed. But rolling bags are really functional only for the type of journey that goes taxi-airport-taxi-hotel-shuttle bus-convention center. Outside this comfortable circuit, they're often useless.

I've been traveling a lot recently, in countries ranging from developed to less developed to dear Lord, is that a monkey attacking a naked child? In harsher conditions, a dainty rolling bag is absurdly out of place. It's no fun rolling those wheels across a "street" that's just a rain-soaked blotch of mud. Or bouncing them up the stairs of a packed train station. Or dragging them through a marketplace where puddles are indeed full of fish and goat entrails. (Enjoy that pungent odor when your bag is back in your room.)

Don't misunderstand me: I'm not trying to eliminate rolling bags altogether. I'm just trying to halt their unchecked proliferation.

Perhaps we should regard them with the same mild disapproval that greets that fur coat your mom inherited. She won't throw it away, but she is a bit uneasy about wearing it in public.

This will all become moot, of course, with the advent of the levitating suitcase, an invention that can't be far off. When it arrives, we'll immediately go gaga for it. And soon after, I'm sure, your bag will be levitating swiftly and directly into my groin.

I await your mumbled apology.

Thanks Seth, you've said it all

x

Where to next...?


Often when I get back from a trip one of the questions my friends and colleagues ask is "Where are you off to next?". They know i've a wish list of countries/regions as long as my arm (no, longer!) and its just a matter of getting more time off work before i'm heading off somewhere else. The question remains.... where?

Up until now various factors have determined my next destination; amount of time off work, the season, political situations and my bank account to name a few. Another factor is difficulty of travel, for example i've not been to many European cities or large swathes of the 'developed' world, simply because travel there is so much easier that I can visit them when i'm older and maybe less able. But just recently i've become more aware of other elements or risks I should include when deciding on my next destination.

The number of tourists traveling to Tibet has hit a record high, Chinese state media has reported.
Just over four million tourists will have visited Tibet in 2007, an official said, an increase of 64% year on year.
The official put the increase down to better marketing and improved transport links, including the controversial high-speed rail service to China. bbc.co.uk 17 Dec 07

For a long time i've dreamt of visiting Tibet - exploring its mountains and high desert plains - but have balked at the idea of going there whilst its under Chinese rule. However with tourism expanding fast that means the country, its people, culture and even landscape, is being exposed and altered by outside influences and if I want to see Tibet before Starbucks moves in i'd better get a move on!

Also much as I abhor the Chinese for their human rights records I admit to admiring their China-Tibet railway. The project they undertook was almost impossible given tracks had to be laid on shifting deserts, melting permafrost, in earthquake zones and much of the construction undertaken at high altitude in freezing conditions. Given my geeky fascination for feats of extreme engineering and passion for unexplored areas and train travel, Tibet and the Lhasa railway is now a dream journey, and it looks like i'm going to have to make it sooner rather than later.

And there are other human impacts that need to be factored in to my decision making...

DENNIS and STACIE WOODS choose their vacation destinations based on what they fear is fated to destruction.

This month it was a camping and kayaking trip around the Galápagos Islands. Last year, it was a stay at a remote lodge in the Amazon, and before that, an ascent of Mount Kilimanjaro.

The visit to the Amazon was “to try to see it in its natural state before it was turned into a cattle ranch or logged or burned to the ground,” Mr. Woods said. Kilimanjaro was about seeing the sunrise on the highest peak in Africa before the ice cap melts, as some forecasters say it will within the next dozen years.

Next on their list: the Arctic before the ice is gone. NY Times 16 Dec 2007

Hundreds, probably thousands, of vacation companies and expedition organisers are cashing in on this 'get there before its gone' logic, otherwise known as 'Doom Tourism'. Its pretty ironic in that in we're all busy burning carbon fuels in a rush to get to the places we're trying to see/save before they melt/flood/burn/die.

Its also hypocritical of me to want to be a tourist in Tibet whilst citing tourism as a reason for its changing face and landscape, however in my defense theres a big difference between being a low impact backpacker and demanding 5-star hotels with Western cafes, CNN & wifi in every room...

The questions I now need to ask myself when deciding 'where next' have changed. Like Mr & Mrs Woods, sunrise on Kilimanjaro is on my list, and as temperatures rise its ascends faster than ever up that list. When? for how long? under what political situations? and with what budget? are no longer priorities. These days I don't have to think about whether i'll be fit and able to travel to a destination when i'm older, but whether it will even exist anymore...

x

Down down, deeper and down...




When I arrived India was gearing up for Diwali, the 'festival of light', a celebration involving gifts, sharing meals and exploding large amounts of firecrackers. But the firecrackers weren't the only thing exploding as Sensex, India's stock exchange, hit the 20,000 mark for the first time ever.

India's economy is booming and it has no problems justifying its position in the 'BRIC' (Brazil, Russia, India & China) group of future power nations, who are already muscling in on the traditional super economies. Yet I don't think the Sensex's record high made it on to many pages or websites around the world- perhaps because they're all too busy reporting on the continuing demise of the dollar...

This weekend's IHT ran a cover story on the difficulties faced by US expats in Europe and Asia who are dependent on dollar salaries, pensions or client bases and gave plenty of examples of belts being tightened or sticks upped and moved to countries where the living costs were lower. Whilst India and its BRIC allies become richer the dollar earning expats are significantly poorer now than they were a year ago, and at present there are few glimmers of hope on the horizon.


I noticed back in 2004 when I was last in India that Euros and Pounds were easier to change than dollars and saw further proof of the situation in S. America earlier this year when Euros, Pounds and even Swiss Francs were prefreable to dollars. For this latest trip I made the decision to travel only with Euros, a decision the Indian government backed up by refusing to accept dollar payments for entry to many of the countries tourist sites:

'The Ministry of Culture has begun insisting that tourists visiting the country’s monuments, including the Taj Mahal, pay the entrance fees in rupees rather than in dollars. Entrance to many sites for foreign tourists is priced in dollars and then converted to rupees, but the ministry has been losing tourism revenue as the dollar slid more than 12 percent this year against the rupee.' NY Times, 17 Nov 07

It's not just the Ministry of Culture that's refusing dollars... I heard a tale of beggar in Kolkata turning up their nose and walking away from a woman who offered her dollar bills!

As some Indian's and expats take all necessary measures to protect their revenues those earning Pounds and Euros are cashing in on their currencies strength and flexing their purchasing power by jetting off to the US to do their Christmas shopping:

'“Your money just keeps on going,” said Ms. Dragonette, awed at the buying power of her British pounds, each worth $2.03 at the time.

The dollar was so weak, said her cousin, a 27-year-old nurse, “We had trouble spending all our money.” Add a new superlative to New York’s long list: world’s most fabulous discount mall.

With the dollar near its lowest rate against the pound in 26 years, and its lowest rate against the euro ever, many Europeans are looking at the United States the way some Americans have long viewed Latin America and the Caribbean and, once upon a time, Europe — a cheap place to flex their strong currency. ' NY Times 15 Dec 07

At least the US hotel and retail economy would appear to be profiting from the dollars doldrums...

Who knows how long the dollar will continue to devalue... in the meantime if you're thinking of traveling to India, or anywhere else on earth for that matter, forget those greenbacks - they're not worth the paper they're printed on!

Save the planet... strip!
(an aside from India)

Some people will go to all kinds of extremes to save the planet, Jean-Louis Borloo, France's Minister for the Environment being one of them!

On a recent trip to Bali to visit a coral regeneration scheme Jean-Louis stripped to his boxers, donned a mask and made an unscheduled dive to see the site for himself.

Good for him! He dropped his pants and raised awareness by ensuring his picture, and therefore the coral project, got plenty of media attention. What i'm curious about though his PR peoples motive behind this picture ...

Back in the summer I posted on the scandal caused by Paris Match air brushing out Sarkozy's lovehandles. Apparently Sarko's entourage felt those 'poignées d'amour' might not correspond with his dynamic, charismatic presidential profile and magicked them away.

Jean-Louis however doesn't seem to deserve the same attention as theres definitely some flab, blubber and even a touch of arse crack going on in this photo.

Do the French expect less of their lower members of government and therefore the PR people let these things slide? or is their aim to portray our Environmental minister as a 'no messy, straight to action' kind of man?

Maybe in revealing himself as a pretty typical middle-aged Frenchmen he'll inspire many other Frenchmen to take some impulsive action to help save our environment. Lets just hope they keep their trousers on in the process!

K

Yumthang Valley

One of the things I wanted to do most in Sikkim was the 9-10 day Goeche-la trek, which would take me up to the base of Kachenjunga mountain and an altitude of 4940m, closer to its summit. However, as Northern Sikkim borders with Tibet, security in the area is very closely controlled and the only way to get into this area is as part of a group with a recognised guide and a permit. Usually I shy away from these organised trips but for a 10 day trek in this area you'd need a yak or two to carry kit and food, and a guide to get you in and out so I was prepared to sign up to a group and hand over the necessary cash for this part of my trip. The problem I found on arriving in Gangtok (Sikkim's capital) was that not many others where up for a 10 day hike now that the weather had turned really cold, and despite trawling around all the guest houses and trek organisers in town I didn't manage to find enough people up for the adventure in order to put together a minimum sized group of 4. There was rumour of a group heading out in 10 days time but I didn't have 10 days to hang around for a rumour so slunk back to my guesthouse to form another Sikkim plan.

Pouring over the old Lonely Planet I read about Yumthang Valley in North Eastern Sikkim which due to its location is off the beaten track of most tourists. Overnight my luck changed and I found a group of 3 Suisse and a Colombian (now living in America) who were also interested in going and had already started to organise a jeep. Yep, there was definitly room for me in the jeep and they were more than happy to have me join them so we set off early next morning for the long drive North.

Our days drive was broken by visits to a couple of stunning monasteries en route but we were all keen to get as far North as quickly as possible, knowing that the sooner we got there the more time we'd have to spend there. 'There' being Zero Point; the end of the road, quite literally where the tarmac stops and tips you out on to a snowy boulder field surrounded by steep mountains with the Tibetan Plateau stretching before you.

We pulled in at nightfall to an elaborate looking hotel that had been decorated at a temple and whilst waiting for dinner set off in search of 'Tongba' the local brew made from fermented millet. We eventually found some in the home of a local shop owner whose wife, dressed beautifully in Tibetan robes invited us through to their enormous kitchen/lounge/bedroom/bar. Filling up large bamboo handle less 'tankards' with millet she then poured on hot water and gave us bamboo straws with which to mash about the mixture. The taste is very bitter and acidic, like young wine, but it's warm and wet, which up here at 3,800m is very welcome on a cold dark night. We walked back to the hotel under some of the most beautiful night skies I've ever seen and with all that warm tongba inside me it wasn't long before I was fit for my bed.

Next morning we were up early and wrapped up against the bitter cold at 5am. Around 6am the sun rose over the mountains and the views around us became mesmerizing.


The jeep wound its way up literally hundreds of switchbacks and as we climbed the snow thickened and the rivers crossing our paths became more and more frozen. At just after 7am we could go no further, the end of the road! and there was a big sign to state the fact!


At this altitude (4,800m) and at this time of the morning it was bloody cold, but frankly that didn't register with me I was so overwhelmed by my surroundings. Along with the Swiss we took turns taking photos and playing in the snow and then I sat myself on a rock for a while to sit down and contemplate the view around me, letting my thoughts wander across that plateau to meet up with a future dream of a train trip to Lhasa.


On the way up that morning we'd picked up a Tibetan guy and girl who'd climbed up to the top of the jeep and bared the freezing temperatures on the drive up. I'd forgotten about them until one of them wandered over with a mug of boiling hot chai for me, making me realise also just how cold I was. The Swiss and the Columbian were huddled under a sheet of plastic masquerading as a tent and trying to keep warm when I found then and although I was pleased to be in the warm I really wanted to be outside with the mountains. I grabbed another mug then went back outside, where in the sunshine it really wasn't so bad. I'd just settled down with my tea in the sun when the guide came over to bundle me back in the jeep. "No!" I begged, " we cant go, we've just got here!" not wanting to leave the view. He pointed out we'd been there for nearly 2 hours, one of the Swiss girls was suffering with the altitude and the Columbian woman had turned into a popsicle so I relented and climbed back into the jeep for the long drive back to Gangtok.

Although somewhat pissed at not being able to do my planned trek and not having more time to spend at Zero Point this jaunt is so far without a doubt the highlight of my trip so far and for a short time has provided me with my mountain fix. I have the images of that Tibetan plateau fixed in my brain now and they'll stay there for a long time, at least until I get to see that view again.



xx

Photos...

A random selection of some recent shots have just gone up on Flickr. I'll get around to adding descriptions/tags etc when I get a chance. In the meantime... enjoy!

xxx

Poverty & Filth

For many people the first images that India conjures up are those of poverty & filth, and indeed these words are often come up in descriptions of the country and its people. Both exist here but it annoys me that the terms are used so readily in India's case and often put hand in hand with each other.

When I was growing up in the UK dropping litter was a heinous crime. The 'Keep Britain Tidy' logo was on every can and packet and bins plentiful in every park and street.

Filth is not a word that often comes to mind when thinking about London or many other British cities. However you don't have to go too far outside of many major UK cities in order to find poverty.

Paris is the same and if you glance out of the train window between Gard du Nord and the airport you'll see countless areas in which people are living in poverty, just miles away from some very affluent residential areas. These affluent areas are however often filthy, with dog shit strewn streets and cigarette buts and litter in the gutters. Its this needless litter that I define as filth.

In Indian cities many live in poverty and the litter is thrown into the street as there are very very few bins. However the rubbish is very often swept up and piled into a lorry in the morning, leaving the streets relatively clean. I therefore don't really think you can describe India's city streets as filthy. Unfortunately the countryside is.

With India's middle class growing ever more wealthy more and more families are traveling and vacationing in their country and during a recent 5 day trek we passed countless families ' trekking' with all their bags and trappings piled into a jeep. The jeep also contains mountains of sweets, chocolates and snacks wrapped in miles of plastic packaging, all of which gets tossed out of the windows and on to the paths, just as it would be in their hometown. Here though there is no rubbish lorry, or even a cow to munch up the mess and the paths are tracks are knee deep in plastic trash. In West Bengal's Singalia national park, in which I trekked with Rob and Tom, we paid Rs100 national park maintenance entrance fee each, and spent our entire time picking up litter. The India guide thought we were crazy and I have to admit after another jeep raced past leaving a confetti trail of sweet wrappers I was beginning to think he was right. When we reached a chai house on the trail we pushed all the collected litter into the bin, only to later watch the lady of the house chuck it over the edge of the hill into the collective rubbish pile. This is where poverty and filth meet. When there are no facilities to collect or deal with rubbish and the pollution and health hazards it creates multiples.

The tide of change is slowly turning though as India's poorer population realise that filth and pollution has to be brought under control. The state of Sikkim has come to the conclusion that by being more environmentally friendly (its banned plastic bags and many plastic containers) it can cash in on eco-tourism, which generates much needed revenue to help deal with waste. It's schemes are well organised and its policies based around education and health care so that it simultaneously attacks pollution and poverty issues. Of course not all of its schemes are positive and it has some quite controversial HEP projects but their communications and marketing campaigns are powerful and changing the collective mentality.

Lets hope that this change in mentality will spread to the ever growing mobile India middle class, so that as India continues to pull its way up the economic ladder away from poverty its countryside doesn't drown in the wave of filth most imagine littering its streets.

Night Skies

There are many many reasons why I travel to some unusual places, one of them being that often I find myself far aware from dust, light and air pollution and in some really impressive places.

Often perched on top of a mountain or in the ocean of a desert you get the most magnificent night skies with millions, billions, countless stars spread out before you.

I'm just back from Northern Sikkim, a small region to the North East of India squashed between Nepal, Tibet, Bhutan and Bangladesh where each night I would sit outdoors watching the stars track across the sky. Despite the freezing cold temperatures I couldn't drag myself away and for hours I gazed at satellites, planets and the Milky Way and every so often caught a streak of light as a star shot across my hemisphere.

Its only when you get to see the skies like this you realise how small we really are and how much we've fucked up our atmosphere and environment. I wish more of you could experience what an unpolluted version of our nights could look like.

xxx

Bollywood

India wouldn't be India without the glitz, glamour, shimmying and shine of Bollywood, and for me no trip to India would be complete without a visit to the movies!

My vacation this time around couldn't have been better timed with 2 major new blockbusters being released simultaneously to coincide with Diwali (Hindu new years).

Indian cinema has come a long way since the days when males and females couldn't touch and the scene of a half eaten apple being passed between the lips of a male and female caused shock and outrage. These days theres no end of suggestive dancing and writhing around in wet clingy saris, all to a funked up Hindi soundtrack with hoards of backing dancers. And the competition between the movies is fierce.

This year, in the red corner we have 'Om Shanti Om', a parody of 70's Hindi cinema led by India's top male actor, Shah Rukh Khan, otherwise known as 'King Kahn'.


And in the blue corner, ' Saawariya' , directed by one of India's greatest, but with a debutant cast.







Not being able to understand the script does not take aware of the enjoyment of the 3 hour movies. The plots are always the same (forbidden love and/or good v. evil) and with more and more 'Hinglish' being worked into the dialogue the storylines are easy enough to follow. Anyway, you don't go to see a Bollywood film for the plot, but for the heckling and shouting at the screen, the singing and dancing, costume changes and chai intervals!

With its songs on permanent shuffle repeat in every taxi, cafe, station and downloaded to every mobile phone 'Om Shanti Om' definitely seems to be the strongest contender in this recent match and its without a doubt become the soundtrack for my trip. Despite its songs constantly buzzing around my brain nothing breaks the ice better in a jeep full of Indian's than knowing the songs playing on the radio and giving them enormous pleasure as I sing and sway along to the tracks!

xx