Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Sumatra still
With one night en route on a rain sodden mozzy infested beach, we rocked up in Bengkulu. Bengkulu was once a Bristish colony sometime in the 18th century. It had a fort and a small garrison and until Sir Stampford Raffles turned up, not much else. He encouraged coffee, tobacco and pepper to be grown and turned it into a profitable little spot then promptly swapped it with the Dutch for Malaka (Malaysia) where he set up Singapore from. All that's left is the fort, a grave yard and a memorial to Thomas Parr who had his head chopped off in 1807. We really liked it. It feels like it's waiting for the people to turn up. It's got everything you'd want from a small town, wide boulevard style high street full of independent retailers, plenty of parking, a Hyper-market on the outskirts, a seafront with restaurants, bars and rubbish bins, ice cream men on bicycles and a nice beach that led all the way up to a secluded river mouth where the surf was good and we stayed for two nights!
South some more on the hunt for more waves and a brief excursion inland as the road wend it's way around some headland or other. The road climbed on to a ridge which is now known as Attenborough ridge. First sighting was a massive monitor lizard ambling a across the road (until it saw us!) then eagle eyed Kym spotted some monkeys way up in trees. We pulled up and they quickly swung off but we did get a glimpse of them and made out that they didn't have tails and were fairish in colour with lighter faces, gibbons? Anyway next was a bird that flashed across the front of the car like some kind of iridescent lightening bolt. couldn't tell you what it was but it was bloody bright. Then a noise, first a low whoop whoop increasing in tempo and volume before reaching a crescendo of manic cackling. We think they were howler monkeys. We're also pretty sure they are the same as the ones we saw earlier but don't monkeys have tails. Perhaps someone could shed some light for us. Anyway they were bloody loud. Have a listen.
The road came back down to the coast and a slight change of scenery. Previous the mountains of central Sumatra had been more inland but know they were smack up against the coast. This now means every time we go around a bend (and there's alot of them) we a greeted with a new bay and they are beautiful. Real picture postcard stuff. White sandy beaches fringed with coconut palms that stand guard a against the encroaching jungle behind. And point break after river mouth after beach after point break. You would have to be here to appreciate how cool the spot I'm typing this is. I'm sat 40 foot from the ocean in a palm grove looking out a azure barrels unloading on to a coral reef. It's our second day here and I think the only thing that's going to make us move is provisions. We are parked on soft grass and the locals pop by every now and then to say Hi, or in some cases just to have a nose. The kids have been sat here this afternoon with Kym getting English lessons while Kym prepares a veggie curry for tonight. I've tinker with the car and been for another surf. It ain't all bad!!
South some more on the hunt for more waves and a brief excursion inland as the road wend it's way around some headland or other. The road climbed on to a ridge which is now known as Attenborough ridge. First sighting was a massive monitor lizard ambling a across the road (until it saw us!) then eagle eyed Kym spotted some monkeys way up in trees. We pulled up and they quickly swung off but we did get a glimpse of them and made out that they didn't have tails and were fairish in colour with lighter faces, gibbons? Anyway next was a bird that flashed across the front of the car like some kind of iridescent lightening bolt. couldn't tell you what it was but it was bloody bright. Then a noise, first a low whoop whoop increasing in tempo and volume before reaching a crescendo of manic cackling. We think they were howler monkeys. We're also pretty sure they are the same as the ones we saw earlier but don't monkeys have tails. Perhaps someone could shed some light for us. Anyway they were bloody loud. Have a listen.
The road came back down to the coast and a slight change of scenery. Previous the mountains of central Sumatra had been more inland but know they were smack up against the coast. This now means every time we go around a bend (and there's alot of them) we a greeted with a new bay and they are beautiful. Real picture postcard stuff. White sandy beaches fringed with coconut palms that stand guard a against the encroaching jungle behind. And point break after river mouth after beach after point break. You would have to be here to appreciate how cool the spot I'm typing this is. I'm sat 40 foot from the ocean in a palm grove looking out a azure barrels unloading on to a coral reef. It's our second day here and I think the only thing that's going to make us move is provisions. We are parked on soft grass and the locals pop by every now and then to say Hi, or in some cases just to have a nose. The kids have been sat here this afternoon with Kym getting English lessons while Kym prepares a veggie curry for tonight. I've tinker with the car and been for another surf. It ain't all bad!!
Padang
Sumatra has more than it's fair share of natures power and Padang as I'm sure you all heard was on the receiving end of it very recently. As you would expect it was all the big buildings that received the most damage. Big buildings of course means more people, Government offices, schools, cinemas, shopping malls, hospitals all felt it the most. It's weirdly voyeuristic driving around and just looking out the windows making dumb exclamations like "shiiit look at that!" but I can guarantee it really does bring it home how devastating an earthquake can be. It's gonna be months and months of re building to get the place back to anything resembling what it used to be. All ready there are large gaps in street side but when the rest of the buildings due for demolition are torn down there are gonna be lot's of empty spaces all over Padang. As for the feel of the place, that amazing human spirit has again taken control and really if you missed the buildings you would have no idea of the recent disaster. We thought it was a nice place, a little tired maybe but who knows in another couple of years with some new facades it could be back on the map. We left with a nice send off from a smiling toothless car parking attendant called Janice and headed South to the beaches.
I don't think I've mentioned that it's wet season here have I? It doesn't rain all the time but when it does bloody hell it does. You know in England when someone says "it's like a monsoon out there" well we know what that's like. We found the beach in the premature darkness through a misted up windscreen with the help of our spotlights. It wasn't ideal but beggers can't be choosers, so we asked the fishermen and their mum if it was okay to park on the beach in front of their open fronted shack. We sheltered with them until the rain slowed a little and while we were there found out that 4 generations live in the place. Grandad, whose 80 and looking good for it, has 12 kids and 54 grandchildren!! Good going eh!? During the conversation and prompted by the sound of an old radio being played too loud coming from another hut close to the car, we also asked if it was quiet here, "no problem" was the reply. Sure enough when we climbed up into the tent at 9ish the radio soon went off and it was peaceful. Until 0430 when it came back on again. 4bloody30 that's still night time! We lay there 'till 0455 and then when the Imman kicked in I declared it was time to make a move. You know, I wouldn't mind if it was radio 4, a bit of the shipping forecast or the end of a play but it was more bloody Indonesian power ballards, and duets at that! So Grumpy got his way and we hit the road the earliest yet at 0525 still in the dark. Oh not before, as I descended the ladder, a voice from the dark of the offending hut shouts "morning mister!" Not yet it's not.
Now maybe some one else can shed some light on this but "Hello mister" is known by absolutely every Sumatran we've met yet. No diferentiation of the sexes, Kym is Mister as well (though very occasionally a younger person will say Mrs). Where does it come from? You can't tell me even the old fella's learnt "hello mister!" in school? All over, from the middle of the jungle to the back of beyond on the West coast, we'll be driving along past a small village and ... "hello Mister!" Next time we do a full day driving we're going to count. "Howwarru?" is another favourite though not nearly as popular. It's brilliant, the looks we get and the spectacle we create as we drive through villages, just brilliant. And it's not always the most obvious age groups either, of course the teens are like "wow" ("hello mister!") but the really great reactions are from kids that you think wouldn't even have the where withall to tell the differance between cars they're so young; honestly, really young like toddler age, they just stand with their mouths open, heads swivelling as we pass. And Grannies, I mean why would they give a damn what was driving past at their age, but sure enough we get turning heads from them and looks of bewilderment. Even a cat stopped and stared at us today! Love it, our arms get tired from waveing back at all the smiling wavey people all day (we wave at the gormless looking ones aswell).
So far, and we've seen alot of it, Sumatra can be very proud of it's people. They are unfailing happy (with one exception, a very upset Mum whose boy had brought disrespect on her by bunking off prayers at the Mosque, she dropped kicked him right up the backside but still smiled at us), incredibly chatty even if they don't speak a word of English and yet are quick to pick up on nuances like when we want to go to bed or get on with some cooking. They're helpful, funny, happy people, not just around us either, as we're driving along you can't help but notice that they just seem contented. The fact that they are Muslim is neither here nor there but I will say a little about it. We personally think they set a shining example of how Islam should be followed. Some wear head scarves some don't, the girls and women are allowed to work, drive/ride, talk to men (even shake hands!) go pillion on a boys bike wear t shirts etc etc and the guys, well the main thing we've noticed is they don't drink. Yeah yeah we're aware that Muslims aren't allowed to drink alcohol but tell me any strictly Muslim country that the men don't surreptiously booze it up (not all men obviously). Now that's where we think the differance lays, booze is available here and it's not frowned upon or hiden down back alleys and sold under the counter in brown bags, anyone can buy it, they just choose not to. A lesson? Maybe.
I don't think I've mentioned that it's wet season here have I? It doesn't rain all the time but when it does bloody hell it does. You know in England when someone says "it's like a monsoon out there" well we know what that's like. We found the beach in the premature darkness through a misted up windscreen with the help of our spotlights. It wasn't ideal but beggers can't be choosers, so we asked the fishermen and their mum if it was okay to park on the beach in front of their open fronted shack. We sheltered with them until the rain slowed a little and while we were there found out that 4 generations live in the place. Grandad, whose 80 and looking good for it, has 12 kids and 54 grandchildren!! Good going eh!? During the conversation and prompted by the sound of an old radio being played too loud coming from another hut close to the car, we also asked if it was quiet here, "no problem" was the reply. Sure enough when we climbed up into the tent at 9ish the radio soon went off and it was peaceful. Until 0430 when it came back on again. 4bloody30 that's still night time! We lay there 'till 0455 and then when the Imman kicked in I declared it was time to make a move. You know, I wouldn't mind if it was radio 4, a bit of the shipping forecast or the end of a play but it was more bloody Indonesian power ballards, and duets at that! So Grumpy got his way and we hit the road the earliest yet at 0525 still in the dark. Oh not before, as I descended the ladder, a voice from the dark of the offending hut shouts "morning mister!" Not yet it's not.
Now maybe some one else can shed some light on this but "Hello mister" is known by absolutely every Sumatran we've met yet. No diferentiation of the sexes, Kym is Mister as well (though very occasionally a younger person will say Mrs). Where does it come from? You can't tell me even the old fella's learnt "hello mister!" in school? All over, from the middle of the jungle to the back of beyond on the West coast, we'll be driving along past a small village and ... "hello Mister!" Next time we do a full day driving we're going to count. "Howwarru?" is another favourite though not nearly as popular. It's brilliant, the looks we get and the spectacle we create as we drive through villages, just brilliant. And it's not always the most obvious age groups either, of course the teens are like "wow" ("hello mister!") but the really great reactions are from kids that you think wouldn't even have the where withall to tell the differance between cars they're so young; honestly, really young like toddler age, they just stand with their mouths open, heads swivelling as we pass. And Grannies, I mean why would they give a damn what was driving past at their age, but sure enough we get turning heads from them and looks of bewilderment. Even a cat stopped and stared at us today! Love it, our arms get tired from waveing back at all the smiling wavey people all day (we wave at the gormless looking ones aswell).
So far, and we've seen alot of it, Sumatra can be very proud of it's people. They are unfailing happy (with one exception, a very upset Mum whose boy had brought disrespect on her by bunking off prayers at the Mosque, she dropped kicked him right up the backside but still smiled at us), incredibly chatty even if they don't speak a word of English and yet are quick to pick up on nuances like when we want to go to bed or get on with some cooking. They're helpful, funny, happy people, not just around us either, as we're driving along you can't help but notice that they just seem contented. The fact that they are Muslim is neither here nor there but I will say a little about it. We personally think they set a shining example of how Islam should be followed. Some wear head scarves some don't, the girls and women are allowed to work, drive/ride, talk to men (even shake hands!) go pillion on a boys bike wear t shirts etc etc and the guys, well the main thing we've noticed is they don't drink. Yeah yeah we're aware that Muslims aren't allowed to drink alcohol but tell me any strictly Muslim country that the men don't surreptiously booze it up (not all men obviously). Now that's where we think the differance lays, booze is available here and it's not frowned upon or hiden down back alleys and sold under the counter in brown bags, anyone can buy it, they just choose not to. A lesson? Maybe.
Central Sumatra
8 hours on the TSH and we rumbled into Bukit Tinggi. Now the lonely planet is a great thing for research but let me urge anyone who's thinking of using one (and I'm certain they would agree with me) don't believe it's the be all and end all. A great guide yes but you do have to make your own decisions and not just follow page for page. "welcome to the cool lush landscape of this busy market town surrounded by three majestic volcanoes their tips hidden by fluffy white clouds...etc" might have been when the author wrote it, we thought "slightly damp sprawling busy market town at the foot of some misty hills, that could do with a bit of a tidy up". We didn't hang around, especially after venturing to the panorama point to have a look at the "deep, scenic Ngarai Sianok canyon" (muddy river valley with tarpaulin covered huts on the far side and hideaous Indonesian pop ballads be blasted through inadequate speakers that distorted it so badly Kym put ear plugs in!).
Padang was only an hour away but we lucked into a perfect camping spot for the night almost as soon as we'd cleared the district of Bukit Tinggi. As we crossed over a bridge we looked down and saw a wide boulder strewn, shallow river with a big grassy area right next to and locals hanging out washing variously themselves, their clothes or their transport, oh and their water buffalo. We bumped down the track on onto the grass got out all our laundry put on our bathers and got stuck in. It was great, of course the kids were the first to investigate as always and as they giggled and hid behind each other while Kym and I flicked our wet clothes at them, the adults looked on with some incredulity but were soon over and talking to us as well. A really nice couple of hours all sat around the back of the truck in the sun was only ended when the sun went down and they locals realised we needed to cook and so left us to get on with it. One young girl was reluctant to leave and when we asked why, it turned she knew she wouldn't be able to see us in the morning and didn't want to leave while she was enjoying herself so much. We were really touched but they dragged her off anyway! Another dip in the river in the morning and a lazy couple of hours waiting for the washing to dry and we headed into Padang.
Padang was only an hour away but we lucked into a perfect camping spot for the night almost as soon as we'd cleared the district of Bukit Tinggi. As we crossed over a bridge we looked down and saw a wide boulder strewn, shallow river with a big grassy area right next to and locals hanging out washing variously themselves, their clothes or their transport, oh and their water buffalo. We bumped down the track on onto the grass got out all our laundry put on our bathers and got stuck in. It was great, of course the kids were the first to investigate as always and as they giggled and hid behind each other while Kym and I flicked our wet clothes at them, the adults looked on with some incredulity but were soon over and talking to us as well. A really nice couple of hours all sat around the back of the truck in the sun was only ended when the sun went down and they locals realised we needed to cook and so left us to get on with it. One young girl was reluctant to leave and when we asked why, it turned she knew she wouldn't be able to see us in the morning and didn't want to leave while she was enjoying herself so much. We were really touched but they dragged her off anyway! Another dip in the river in the morning and a lazy couple of hours waiting for the washing to dry and we headed into Padang.
Sorry folks it's pretty remote on Sumatra and almost as much on Java.
Back lane more like. It's weird, I don't know who's responsible for the roads but you'll be driving along along on a perfectly smooth tarmaced road with lines in the middle then suddenly it turns into a track, pot holed and half washed away. This'll go on for a few miles then it'll turn back into smooth road again? Occasionally on the really bad bits, enterprising young lads have taken it upon them selves to make repairs to the worst pot holes and stand with a box by the road accepting donations! We travelled back down into the rain forest then out into the flood plain of a large river surrounded by paddy fields. Now roads of course mean trade and commerce, and because there aren't too many roads on Sumatra where they are there are generally dwellings and businesses. This makes pulling off the road and getting some kip pretty difficult. This particular night we kept going and going thinking that somewhere would show up, it didn't, it got dark and dangerous to drive so we pulled over on someones little patch of land outside their warung and asked them if we could sleep there. Of course it was no problem but it started to rain and the patch we were on turned to mud the lorries kept going past and the long and the short of it was we didn't get much sleep. But we can sleep anytime so really it's no big deal when this happens but at the time it always seems like a drama.
We reached what we consider, a real milestone on the journey on this stretch. We knew at some point we would be crossing the equator on Sumatra but we weren't exactly sure where. Our map has the degrees of latitude on the edges but no lines across the map. So Kym hazarded a pretty accurate guess somewhere near a village called Bonjol. Anticipation mounted as the mile markers counted us down, but to be honest we weren't even convinced there would be any kind of notice. We needn't have worried. Just on the outskirts of the village is a whacking great sign right across the road announcing "you are no crossing the equator". There were even T shirt sellers! We genuinely felt a real sense of achievement, it quickly puts into perspective some of the shitty times we've had and we rightly felt proud of ourselves. I confess to being a little apprehensive that it would all be a bit anti climatic but bloody hell it was great. Perhaps if we'd flown here and rented a car and done it maybe, but we drove from Taunton!
We reached what we consider, a real milestone on the journey on this stretch. We knew at some point we would be crossing the equator on Sumatra but we weren't exactly sure where. Our map has the degrees of latitude on the edges but no lines across the map. So Kym hazarded a pretty accurate guess somewhere near a village called Bonjol. Anticipation mounted as the mile markers counted us down, but to be honest we weren't even convinced there would be any kind of notice. We needn't have worried. Just on the outskirts of the village is a whacking great sign right across the road announcing "you are no crossing the equator". There were even T shirt sellers! We genuinely felt a real sense of achievement, it quickly puts into perspective some of the shitty times we've had and we rightly felt proud of ourselves. I confess to being a little apprehensive that it would all be a bit anti climatic but bloody hell it was great. Perhaps if we'd flown here and rented a car and done it maybe, but we drove from Taunton!
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Inland
The retreat of the jungle also exposed churches, not mosques, churches. Seems the Portugese and Dutch missionarys did their job well here and there are really alot of churches! The local tribe are Bataks, thought to have originated in Malaysia and migrated south then inland to central Sumatra. Until the mid 19th centuary they still ate their enemies but they've chilled out a bit now and like nothing more than a good sing song and boy do they belt it out. Their houses are designed to resemble buffalo horns and are built on stilts so the livestock is kept underneath and the family above. They picked a good spot to migrate to aswell. Danau Toba is the largest freshwater lake in Southern Asia and has an island in it that is the size of Singapore! In actual fact it is a crater lake and scientists believe that when it blew it would have made Krakatoa look like a weak fart. We drove anti-clockwise until we reached Tuk-Tuk on the far side of the island which is where all the tourists go... all 8 of them (including us)! The place was dead. There were restaurants, hotels, internet places, book shops but no people. Apparently the weekends get busier and Christmas livens up a bit but nearly all with domestic tourists. After a chat with one local business owner it turns out KLM used to fly to Medan (about 3hrs by bus) and they got alot more Europeans, but the Government did some sort of insentive deal and encourage KLM to fly to Bali instead virtually cutting off the umbilical cash cord from Europe. We liked it. It was chilled out, the lake water was warm the air temp was cool in the evenings and the locals left us alone when we parked up for the night. The views are amazing and you don't get woken at 0500 by the Imman (we did get woken by what we thought must be the local equivelant of the booze cruise though, banging out eurotrash with a thumping bass at 0400 and that was leaving the dock!!) . But after two days and a small miss hap with a red ants nest (Kyms still got the bite marks on her feet a week later) there wasn't a great deal more to see and although it was a great place to chill out, there ain't no waves! Instead of driving back across the causeway and retracing our steps, which we don't like, we caught a real proper ferry made of metal and everything and sailed to the far shore and the tantalising prospect of the "trans-Sumatran-highway".
West coast
The above mentioned road was the next one we took. We'd been told that it was open and that it was a straight forward drive to Meulaboh that should take about 5 hours. Yeah right. The tsunami had demolished all of this road and we knew reconstruction was still ongoing but it definitely has a few years to go before I'd do it in any thing less than a 4x4. What was amazing was the level of expertise in the construction. All along the way we kept seeing Western engineers overseeing various bits and all the workers had hi-viz jackets, boots and hard hats on! Foreign money without a doubt. Also obvious were all the new villages. Prefab houses like mini bungalows all uniformly laid out had been built to house the homeless and water tanks and facilities were everywhere. It was kinda shocking to see the scale of the damage but also heartening to know that all the money sent by people like you and me has been really put to good use. A couple of villages still on our pre-2004 map just weren't even there any more. As I said it's still a work in progress and we hadn't got that far when we hit our first snag. A new signpost had directed us off the road and down a track that eventually just came to a river.. The bridge wasn't there yet.. so we turned around and carried on down the road we'd turned off which roughly followed the river until it came into a village on the estuary and led down to the beach..? We musta missed something, heading back into the village we spotted it, a small turn off with a few cars queueing for a ferry across the estuary. We parked at the back and hopped out to check out the ferry, well lets say two canoes with two planks strapped across them and a 4hp motor on the back isn't an exaggeration of the ferry. There was no way we were going on that in a 2 3/4 tonne Landcrusier! All was not lost and after a bit more schooling in Bahasa Indonesian we learnt that there was a "kapal besar" just up the road (bigger boat). The bigger boat, it couldn't be denied, was bigger. Four canoes, alot more planks and 20hp motor and instead of one car at a time it took 6! We joined the queue and quickly realised we were never going to get across before dark which would make finding somewhere to sleep that much harder so executive decision, we left the queue drove to the beach and had a great nights sleep.
Got to "ferry" at 0730 and there didn't seem to be a whole lot going on. We'd been assured the night before that it was a 24hr operation (trying to find this out I kept asking "dua puluh empat jam?" (24hrs?) which I thought was a good stab but they just kept looking blankly a me, saying it with more gusto and twiddling my finger around my watch face bought big smiles and the response "ah.. ya.. non-stop!"!!). It turned out that at three in the morning someone had pulled a little too hard on the starter cord and the engine had fallen off the back of the boat! They'd fished it out but it was full of water. Time to get the tools out. To say they were impressed with opr tool kit would be putting it mildly! We stripped the engine pumped the water out turned it over to get the water out of the cylinders (giving the young lad who was holding the spark plug caps an electric shock which had everyone in fits) sprayed it all with wd40 (they were loving us by now) put it all back together (every time they had finished using one of the tools they cleaned it with newspaper and put it back in the right place) and fired it up.. and it worked.. just as a guy in a pick up turned up with a new engine!!
Drove on, quickly re-adjusted so it didn't tip up, crammed a few others around us and we made it across the river. After a couple of days heading down the coast (swell had dropped) and staying on some more beautiful beaches we headed inland and up into the mountains to Lake Toba. It is seriously jungly here! You're just completely surrounded by impenetrable greenery and everything looks so big. Huge leaves the size of a car bonnet and straight up trees that look 50 metres tall, vines, ferns, banyans how on earth do people get through it? Eventually as we climbed the jungle gave way to what can only be described as.. the Quantocks! Scrubby ferns and deciduous trees with plants on the verges that could be mistaken for rhododendron's and pines. At one point I asked Kym if she fancied popping into the Blue Ball for a venison pie and a pint. (didn't do our moral any good, the budget strings have been well and truly tighted and beer is unfortunately one expense we've had to fore go). It prompted a brief discussion about homesickness which then brought the realisation that we'd both felt that the two months in Taunton before we left really didn't feel like home any more, so if that was the case we couldn't really call it homesickness as we are currently living in our home, so more "creature-comfort sickness"? Or just pie and beer sickness? It is hard sometimes but then we pinch ourselves, look around and say something to each other like.. "have you ever driven to the lowest place on Earth, the highest pass on Earth and across the Equator (more on that) all in 7 months?" Shit. How many people on the planet can say that?! I can live without beer.
Got to "ferry" at 0730 and there didn't seem to be a whole lot going on. We'd been assured the night before that it was a 24hr operation (trying to find this out I kept asking "dua puluh empat jam?" (24hrs?) which I thought was a good stab but they just kept looking blankly a me, saying it with more gusto and twiddling my finger around my watch face bought big smiles and the response "ah.. ya.. non-stop!"!!). It turned out that at three in the morning someone had pulled a little too hard on the starter cord and the engine had fallen off the back of the boat! They'd fished it out but it was full of water. Time to get the tools out. To say they were impressed with opr tool kit would be putting it mildly! We stripped the engine pumped the water out turned it over to get the water out of the cylinders (giving the young lad who was holding the spark plug caps an electric shock which had everyone in fits) sprayed it all with wd40 (they were loving us by now) put it all back together (every time they had finished using one of the tools they cleaned it with newspaper and put it back in the right place) and fired it up.. and it worked.. just as a guy in a pick up turned up with a new engine!!
Drove on, quickly re-adjusted so it didn't tip up, crammed a few others around us and we made it across the river. After a couple of days heading down the coast (swell had dropped) and staying on some more beautiful beaches we headed inland and up into the mountains to Lake Toba. It is seriously jungly here! You're just completely surrounded by impenetrable greenery and everything looks so big. Huge leaves the size of a car bonnet and straight up trees that look 50 metres tall, vines, ferns, banyans how on earth do people get through it? Eventually as we climbed the jungle gave way to what can only be described as.. the Quantocks! Scrubby ferns and deciduous trees with plants on the verges that could be mistaken for rhododendron's and pines. At one point I asked Kym if she fancied popping into the Blue Ball for a venison pie and a pint. (didn't do our moral any good, the budget strings have been well and truly tighted and beer is unfortunately one expense we've had to fore go). It prompted a brief discussion about homesickness which then brought the realisation that we'd both felt that the two months in Taunton before we left really didn't feel like home any more, so if that was the case we couldn't really call it homesickness as we are currently living in our home, so more "creature-comfort sickness"? Or just pie and beer sickness? It is hard sometimes but then we pinch ourselves, look around and say something to each other like.. "have you ever driven to the lowest place on Earth, the highest pass on Earth and across the Equator (more on that) all in 7 months?" Shit. How many people on the planet can say that?! I can live without beer.
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