Filed under: In transit
Sri Lanka has always featured in our travel plans, in fact back in March we had initially intended to visit as part of a “Visa run” to extend our Indian visa. But as the unexpected changes of the Indian bureaucratic beast unfolded this dissolved such plans. So we were even more excited that we managed to fit Sri Lanka into our final destination list on the way back to Australia. By the time we exited Colombo airport, having walked past duty free shops offering the visiting Sri Lankan expat community the opportunity to find their local families a state-of-the-art washing machine, fruit mixer or car, was the same time European brisk autumn weather had started to take it toll on us. The humid pre/post monsoon (strangely this rather small island has quite complex patterns of weather seasons) temperatures was too much of a contrast, demanding that we were to ease leisurely into the final leg of the pigeon’s flight path. Colombo with it’s handful of sights proved the perfect remedy for a slow start. My highlights were visiting the former office building of local architect Geoffrey Bawa and munching on prawn pie’s at the Pagoda Tea Room where Duran Duran filmed their “Hungry like the wolf” clip on the very premises. Although the pies were oven fresh and after seeing the video clip again, it seems that neither the interior nor staff have changed.
Stretching our spines and bums’ last layer of patience on local bus seats, we spent the next fortnight zig-zagging around the place in relative comfort. However finding a spare seat could be a little tricky as countless rows were blocked out for clergy, pregnant women, elderly with a disability and the rest of Sri Lankans with a limp, but we managed most of the times not to sit with writing above our seats.
Filed under: Europe
Well definitely Porto- or Oporto in the north; the poorer cousin of Lisbon although, just as hilly and quaint with cobblestone streets and winding laneways leading to port cellar warehouses and abandoned or crumbling buildings. At sunset, nothing was better than grabbing a bottle of the sweet fortified drink reminiscent of a grandparent’s favourite tipple and gazing at the Atlantic wondering how the hell the explorers were able to sail off into the unknown.
when in Porto, one must drink port. cheerio
crumbling and colourful
Filed under: Europe
Ok, after a stint of exactly three months in Switzerland, and after the old adage of reporting on our whereabouts after we leave a country, I feel it is best to point out some of the highlights we’ve been up to in the land of cheese and chocolate.
The Number 1 processed meat snag: the Swiss cervelat
Firstly our arrival in the height of summer meant a lot of grilled meats and none more celebrated and revered than all is the Swiss fat squat sausage called a cervelat. Funnily enough, this snag has had a rather jagged recent history as with tradition preparation, it is speared on a stick, grilled over an open fire curls in a uniform crescent and eaten with Swiss condiments in a handy and convenient tube, mayo and mustard tube squirted generously over the end. A few hot summers back due to the popularity of this humble snag its casing sourced from the bovine variety, resulted in a Swiss supply unable to keep up with the grill demand. Here comes Brazil where cowboys and cow innards are a plenty and the cervelat was saved by its skin. Unfortunately, so did EU regulations in banning the import of beefy body parts including intestines to thwart another outbreak of European B.S.E. Apparently Uruguayan skins don’t cut it and make crooked cervelats, Argentinians too fatty and artificial and pig skins too tough. So this may be our last time of eating the endangered Swiss cervelats unless an alternative can be found, so bon appetite!
a few seconds later the sausage was a goner
Filed under: Europe
After an overdue hiatus and as an afterthought, these last few countries have been rolled into one blog because we found ourselves breezing through the Balkans and central Europe, and as we were enjoying ourselves immensely, too much in fact to be flitting around in internet cafes with where-the-bloody-hell-are-you obligations. From sleeping underneath feather eiderdowns, searching for wild blueberries and mushrooms, drinking wine and eating all sorts of continental fare, we are in short, blissful of being in a laissez fare travel mode after a year on the road.
And here's another reason why I'm no longer veggo
Filed under: Uncategorized
We long have left Turkey behind us. Lot’s of other things had been on our minds in the months since the goodbyes from this great country. Yet the memories are still very much fresh so it won’t be difficult to look back retrospectively. After the stints in India and China we were looking forward to get to Europe. And so we did. Taking off from Goa, with an unmemorable stop in Doha, our plane landed at Atatürk Airport, Istanbul – Europe. Within an hour of arrival we found ourselves already again walking on Asian territory. What happened? Didn’t we have the required $20 at the ready for a visa and got deported on the next plane to Burma? No, nothing quite so serious, all we did is hop- on a ferry criss-crossing the Bosporus to find our Guesthouse on the “other” side of Istanbul. Asia. Living at the cross roads of Eurasia is not only a daily issue for Istanbul, it is ever present in the whole of Turkey. As are Religion: can the Turks continue with a secular system or should they embrace an Islamic-based governance system. Economy: is Turkey finally able to join the EU in the West, or is it wiser to look east for its partners? Historically: Turkey also proved major turning points and landmarks for countless empires and armies. Needless to say this doesn’t need to be told to any true blue Aussie, though.
It's religion too. pick your team carefully
Filed under: Syria
Holy flying carpet! Perched on top of a craggy mountain overlooking a seemingly barren landscape was our respite for the next few days- the monastery of Mar Musa, on the map a couple of hundred kilometres north of Damascus. This monastery is a place of religious solitude and reflection; I can see your eyebrows already raising, but believe me, it was just what the travel weary pigeons needed, a bit of Jesuit-style R&R. Of course daily duties aside such as washing dishes, serving food and chaotic Persian carpet cleaning, we were able to witness somewhat of a miracle as Arab Christianity is indeed flourishing in Syria as we stayed there with spiritual seekers and young locals alike. Mass was held in the evenings after meditation by the larger than life Padre Paulo, a Jesuit who had painstakingly restored the 11th century frescoed church and built an attached monastery. Let’s just say it was a moving multilingual multi-faith ceremony as the father cited the liturgy in Arabic, spoke of Jesus in French and thanked the Lord in English under candlelight and smouldering frankincense late into the night. This was followed by our grumbling tummies welcoming a communal dinner of goats’ cheese, olives, pita bread and copious cups of black sugary tea, before a quick chat and lights out, the men left the safe walls of the church for their lodgings and the womenfolk could quietly sleep in separate quarters or for the more faithful, in the church itself. Nothing could beat the tranquillity of counting the stars in the desert sky in absolute silence. Of course not all was rosy and tranquil as our faith was tested by a daily task of cleaning the church’s carpets. Easy you think to just skirt around with a vacuum however, led by Brother Peter, a monk with Rasputine qualities, we were organised with the sole Arabic word of Y’alla (c’mon) which is rather limited as we were expected to understand with clarity the Syrian ways of rug cleaning with powdered Jiff and lots of water. Although chaotic it was loads of fun with the devilish thought that the wet dog smelling carpets slung over the monastery walls could potentially fly off into the secular world below.
Brother Peter got the hose, the rest are doing the hard work
Filed under: India
TRAIN TICKET. Eight years had passed since our previous adventures in India. Slumdog Millionaire, White Tiger, Sachin Tendukar, Life of Pi and ANZ call centre calls had brought India closer to a broad amount of Australians in recent years, wanted or unwanted. According to the press and pie charts in financial papers, the country has been steadily climbing the ladder to modernity. Apparently there are now more millionaires in India than Swedes in Sweden… or something like that. Either way we are intrigued in whether or not we would be able to judge any evidence of the changes ourselves. And of course, there are noticeably more real “Rupees” in circulation, slightly fewer Hero bicycles yet more snazzy Chevrolet cars on the streets. We witnessed local travellers check their email effortlessly- wireless on a MacBook on an Indian train. Glossy lifestyle magazines promote designer jeans worth more than a combined monthly travel budget of the two pigeons. Now of course, there should be more in-depth analytical indicators to measure India’s rise in wealth but the main obvious thing, though that stands out, is that a relative minority enjoys this rise. Lot’s of people still do get by with minimal belongings and income. Caste and class will continue to hinder the world’s so-called largest democracy to obtain a somewhat sustainable, balanced growth. Ring roads, glitzy airports and brand chains just won’t do as real achievements for the future ahead. However, to bring the subject back on a more personal and lighter experience of change for the good we can compare our last trip’s train ticket experience which took a good two days’ fierce queuing (we actually witnessed a proper fist fight) at some random train station ticket counter, this time we booked and printed our precious train tickets in matter of minutes- online. No queues, no touts, no sore feet and no hassle. And it works too. This might not strike you as a very amazing improvement of Indian life but for those of you who in the past have had travelled on Indian trains, you now will nod in silent surprise and understanding.
train table not online, yet
Filed under: In transit
Well, to be precise we are still in Asia, as this colourful blog entry really hails from the Anatolian/Asian side of the Bosphuros. After nine months of fantastic hospitality, unforgettable sights, encounters and experiences we would like to say our most heartfelt thank you’s to you, dear Asia. With our previous posted stories about you we have strained the patience and eyes of our readers, so in the sense of quiet celebration we have chosen some pictures in retrospective. Again, thank you for spoiling us so much.
Filed under: India
A probably welcomed change to the normally wordy entries. A photographic and hearty “Namaskara” from our temporary home in the lovely Western Ghats. After nearly 8 months on the move, living out of the backpack we really enjoy to call a place home for a while. And we could not have hope for a better spot. Sunita (the lady running the NGO we help out at) has created a real farm oases deep in the forest. The mostly home grown grub is nothing short of sensational. The noise of ever mad India is far away the only occasional sounds come from monkeys, buffaloes or Katrina giggling while catching up with the second episode of “Flight of the Conchords”. And if you consider the fact, that Matthias can wear a lungi (piece of cloth wrapped around the waist) for work, then we really wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Or at least for a month or two.
Filed under: Vietnam
Part I: Love in the highlands of Sapa
Crossing an international border on foot is always an exciting adventure and apart from the pushiness and a barrage of questions such as you want to take a motorbike, get a hotel, buy a pineapple, have a shoe shine, hotel room, exchange money from an accompanying local, we were still relived to finally step foot into Vietnam. Continue reading
Crouching Pigeon's Flight 