Greetings,

We arrived at Heathrow airport at 10AM and took the Underground
(Piccadilly line) to Russell Square.  We are staying in the luxurious
yet spartan "St. Margarets Hotel", two blocks from the British Museum.
Of course the first thing we did was to go there and see some
"antiquities", most notably the Egyptian, Assyrian, Hellenic, Mayan,
and all periods of Indian, Tibetan, Nepalese statuary.

(Skip the details... cut to the chase!)

The weather is rainy and about 58 degrees Fahrenheit. Lovely weather.
We already used our rain jackets
We plan to stay here for another 2 nights. One day will be a day trip
to Cambridge, and then off to Bath and South Wales.

Well that's all for now.
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
rooksmith@yahoo.com

Date:
        Sat, 6 Jun 1998 10:10:11 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Scotland, Rain, and Youth Hostels.
 
 

We are currently in Scotland in Edinburgh in a youth hostel using the
computer.  Computer time (and internet access is a rare commodity on a
Saturday)... We had to wait for over an hour.  But the rate here is
cheap (2 pounds and 50 pence and hour), so I guess it's worth it.

When we last wrote you we were in Bath.  We traveled North to Conwy,
on the north coast of Wales, where we had a nice afternoon exploring
one of Edward the first's castles. (I think he was the 'nice-guy'
English King played by Patrick McGoohan in "Braveheart").  After that
we had an evening of Welsh folk music at a local pub that just
happened to be having a folk society session.

After Conwy, we got a bit o' "wetness" (English for torrential
downpour) while be went into the Snowdonia area and visited the
Blaneau Ffestiniog area- and went down into a slate mine.  Great thing
for a wet day.

After that we traveled north to the Lakes District, and stayed in
Windermere. It stopped raining so we did some hiking - to the home of
Beatrix Potter (Hill Top Farm), across the lake and about 3 miles
away.  The rolling hills and stone fences were great.  We took alot of
pictures (lambs, cute cottages covered in flowering vines, wild
foxgloves and rhododendrons).

Then it was on to York, where we played tourist for a while, going on
the free walking tours, and climbing to the top of the Minster
(cathedral - 275 steps on a spiral staircase made for midget
hunchbacks). Of course we loved the Railroad museum, since Doug loves
trains and history.

Finally we took a late afternoon train up to Edinburgh,  and took in
some more folk music.  This  time a guy with the Highland War Pipes.
We stayed overnight at a private Aussie-run youth hostel.  The
dormitory experience was a bit too noisy for Doug, so we've upgraded
to a hostel with double rooms in an old church.

Until next time,

Doug and Becca

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Thu, 11 Jun 1998 05:11:12 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Scotland, more rain, and Belfast.
 
Well, we finally made it to Ireland. Scotland was cold and rainy, but
beautiful nonetheless.  We spent a day in the "granite city" Aberdeen,
which was actually quite a nice city, even compared to Edinburgh. Then
we crossed Scotland and went to the highland port village of Oban,
where he stayed at an utra inexpensive B&B/hostel run by an eccentric
English guy.  The town of Oban is well known for McKaig's tower, which
overlooks the village. The tower is actually a stone version of the
Roman Colosseum (with the exception of Gothic windows!), that was
built as a project to help out out of work stone masons.  We had
dinner at the local tourist trap restaurant (McTavish's) and saw their
cheesy "Scottish show", complete with little girls doing Scottish
jig's and an old geezer playing the Highland War Pipes slightly out of
tune).

The train ride to the ferry port Stranraer, went past Loch Lomond, (of
"you take the high" road fame, Glasgow , where we hiked with full
backpacks straight through the middle of the city from one train
station to another, and on to the small town of Ayr, where we waited
for 4 hours, while the rain and wind howled outside the station.  It
was the day of the Scotland-Brazil World cup match (Scotland lost),
but there were lots of men with their faces painted Blue with the
white diagonal cross - the flag of Scotland,and of course kilts.  They
were loud, but pretty civilized nonetheless.

We crossed the Irish sea in a modern ferry that had about 6 bars, 2
restaurants including a McDonalds, a duty free gift shop, video
arcade, and slot machines. It was more like a mini-cruise ship than a
ferry. The highlight of the trip was the rough seas, which caused
everyone on board to stagger wildly side to side, while laughing
uncontrollably. Fortunately no one got hurt, because there were quite
a few older couples taking a stroll will the ship pitched and rolled.

We made it to Belfast and the hostel before 10:30. The sun was still
up. Today we just walked around the downtown, and took a tour of the
beautiful City Hall.
This afternoon we will probably either take a bus tour of the city or
go to the botanical gardens.

The weather today is better than the last two days: there is some
intermittent sunshine between the cold rain showers.

Well that's it for now...
 

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
Date:
        Mon, 22 Jun 1998 05:10:44 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Greetings from Barcelona
 

We last wrote in Belfast, where we rented a car, and drove to Ulster
Folk and Transport Museum, which is a village of traditional Irish
houses and buildings that were moved from all over Ulster and restored
magnificently.  They had a rural area with 3 or so restored farms,
some of which were actually working. We toured several cottages that
all had their fireplaces going with a warm peat fire.  We sampled some
traditional bread backed on an iron disk hanging over the open hearth
peat fires.

Our destination was Portrush a formerly faded, now restored Georgian
Seaside Resort town (the "Brighton of the North") and the Antrim
Coast, where we visited Old Bushmills (the worlds oldest distillery -
making spirits since the 13th century... and tasting like it!),and the
Giants Causeway (incredible hexagonal basalt columns formed by cooling
magma). While in Portrush, we stayed at a great B&B called the
"Rest-a-While" Guest house. We ate in Portrush at the Ramore Wine Bar,
which had the best food and probably only good food, we had in Great
Britain... They were having their annual "party at the port" day when
we were there so we got a free traditional Irish concert and Scottish
dance demonstration. We also  walked the beaches past some incredible
100 foot high sand dunes, and drove the rocky Antrim coast where we
parked and walked down along a cliff to a ruined castle.

After that   we drove on to Londonderry (or Derry if you are from the
south).  We saw the famous fence and guard tower at the border, near
the court house.  We also accidently got lost in "Bogside", which is
across the border in the Republic of Ireland.  We saw      some of the
political murals, welcoming us to "Free Derry", but it looked more
like a war zone during a cease fire. Children were playing ball in the
streets just a half a mile from the military tower which was set up by
the British police. Everything else (and all the border checkpoints)
were totally peaceful, unmanned, and open to travel.

We headed out of Derry to Donnegal and the Glencolumcille peninsula.
We stayed in Kilcar (just outside of Killybegs)at the Derrylaughn
hostel.  Because of the remote location, we were able to get an entire
house instead of a 4 by 6ft cell like the one we had in Belfast.  It
was really nice.  The countryside was incredible.    We also were able
to cook our meal for the second time.  While there we drove off
looking for interesting sites.  The weather had cleared, but there
were still some dark clouds floating by. We drove to Gencolomcille,
where we found some neolithic "standing stones", with pre-Christian
carvings on them in the graveyard of an old church. We also found
(quite by accident) a Napoleonic era lookout tower on some incredible
cliffs.  After that we went to see the Slieg Lieve Cliffs (renowned as
the tallest cliffs in Europe). This is quite the place for extreme
mountaineering.  Someday I´ll have to try it. Instead we opted for
driving along the cliffs in the blinding sun on a one lane road that
went within inches of the edge. We ran into a few sheep on the way,
and fortunately no traffic going the other way!

We drove on south and east to Belleek (home of my friend Kenny) and
saw the Belleek Pottery works. Then we drove along the length of lower
Loch Ehrne to Eniskillen.  Then on to Sligo!  We stopped in Sligo long
enough to have some icky kebob sandwiches, and to visit the ruins of a
12th century Abbey. Our real destination was the Carrowmore Megalithic
Cemetery south of Sligo. We found it and wandered the fields past
stone circles, cairns, and shaft tombs. We ran into another American
couple who recommended Clonmacnoise, ruins of a monastic settlement,
with three beautiful "High Crosses" - beautifully carved Celtic
Crosses with geometric and figurative designs telling the story of the
gospels. We stayed near there in a farmhouse at the Cypress B&B near
Athlone.

Next we headed off to James Joyce territory, Dublin.  We originally
were going to drive further southwest to Galway and the Dingle
Penninsula, but got tired of driving and were running short on time.
We´ll be back to do that someday.

We stayed near Dubin in a hostel in Dun Lagohaire, which is one of the
oldest towns in Ireland, although you´d never guess because of the
ultra modern ferry port. The weather took a turn for worse. More rain.

The next day we toured Dublin´s Trinity College and saw the book of
Kells (brilliant!) and the "Dublin Experience" (which is a rip-off
slide show) I thought it ironic that the Dublin experience was such an
obvious tourist trap, but at least it got us out of the rain.  After
that we visited the National Museum (free) which had a marvelous
permanent exhibit of prehistoric Irish artifacts from the Bronze and
Iron Ages, including carved stones, stone tools, gold jewelry, bronze
and iron weapons, a Viking boat, and a Viking skeleton. Finally we
went to the Kilmainham Gaol (jail) where the patriots of the 1916
Irish Revolution were imprisoned and executed. The historical
significance of the place is astounding: if the executions had not
taken place, popular sentiment might not have shifted towards the
revolution, and there might not be a modern Irish Republic.  The slide
show and tour attempted to be objective about the history.  While were
were there a video crew was filming a 97 year old man who apparently
was friends with the men who were martyred, and told stories of the
rising and executions.

At this point we started making our own breakfasts, having overdosed
on traditional Irish breakfasts, and corn flakes.  We started carrying
a box of Irish Oatmeal (yumm) , brown sugar, a jar of Nescafe and
powdered coffee creamer with us.

After Dublin we went north to New Grange, which is a mecca for
neolithic tourists. The main attraction is an incredible passage tomb
that from a distance resembles a flying saucer that has landed on a
hill.
The exterior of the tomb has been restored to what it would have
looked like when it was built : white quartzite circular wall
surrounding it, with an opening that consisted of several vertical
stones, a flat roof, and a transom-like window that allows light to
enter the tomb only one a year, on the morning of the Winter Solstice
for about 20 minutes.  We crawled into the tomb passage and squeezed
through some tiny spaces until we entered the main tomb room. All of
the artifacts in the tomb were long since stolen, but there were some
beautiful carvings, and a few stone basins. The guide turned of all
the lights and we were plunged into total darkness.  She then turned
on a light to simulate the way it would look on the Winter Solstice
(if it were a clear day, which is highly unlikely!). The light barely
penetrates to the room at first, and then illuminates the chamber
completely. The idea is that the ancestors spirits are able to renew
the season´s cycle to bring forth another year.

We drove on to Kells (formerly the home of the Book of Kells). A
farmer found the Book here hidden in a field, wrapped in animal hides
which inadvertently preserved the book. We stated at the hostel, (the
Hostel of Kells), and enjoyed a pleasant conversation with the warden
who was a 20-something student at Trinity doing a summer job. We
walked over to the church and saw more high crosses (some not in very
good shape) and the round tower. It was probably from an old
monastery. The round towers were used as a defense against the Viking
and Irish raiders that plundered the old monasteries.

Finally we drove to a place near the Belfast Airport called
Templepatrick, where we stayed at Mrs Hydes Farmhouse B&B.  We had a
great room 20 feet by 20 feet (we measured it with Becca´s feet which
are exactly 12 inches!).

We got on our plane at the airport at 8:30 AM and two hours later,
landed in Barcelona! (We decided to forgo a 22 hour ferry crossing
over rough seas with bad food, and to proceed down to a WARM SUNNY
place).

We got off the train from the airport one stop early, and wasted an
hour, but otherwise did very well. We found Pensionne Fina, (after
three full hotels) for 3750 Peseta´s ($25 ), and went for a walk down
the Ramblas, which is a boulevard which has a pedestrian zone running
down the middle, from the Place de la Catalanyas to the harbor, which
has been fixed up from the 1992 Olympics. We also wandered to the Bari
Gothic (old Cathedral), and Palu de Muses, which was in part desiged
by Gaudi.  We wound up the evening by having Tapas (appetizers) at one
of the local Tapa bars, where Becca had her first cooked Octapus.

Yesterday, we walked to the Parque de la Ciudadela (City Park) where
we saw Gaudi´s fountain and watched the Sunday free parade with
marching bands, near the Arch de Triumph (also by Gaudi). Walking
further we went to Gaudi´s unfinished cathedral, La Sagra da Familia
(the Holy Family), where there was a good Gaudi Museum explaining the
construction and history of the cathedral. The prices have gone
through the roof on admissions. This time it was 800 psta per head for
the church and museum. It was started in 1898, and is still being
built, although the plans were destroyed during a mob scene in the
Spanish Civil War. Although there is an elevator that cost an extra
200 pst (1.25), we found a stairway in the back that lead to a series
of passages and more stairs, that take you up though your choice of
three towers to dizzying heights. Although he doesn´t usually get
vertigo, Doug did this time!

Next we walked a long hot walk up a hill to the Parq Güell, which
contains Gaudi´s colorful tile menagerie of imaginary reptiles and
curved benches. There are also a series of Gaudi´s building that look
like houses straight out of Dr. Seuss.  While we paused to rest, a
flutist played some strange and beautiful music in the collumnade
under the curved benches, near the fantastical lizard fountains.

Today, so far, we visited the Palu Güell, which is another Gaudi
house, with some incredible tiled chimneys, and the Casa Batila, which
is not open for visitors, but has a beautiful facade.

Well that brings us up to date.  The weather has been hot, dry and
WONDERFUL. Most of the people are wearing next to nothing, strolling
the tree-lined streets and resting at cafe´s to gawk at each other.
We´re just enjoying ourselves, taking it all in.

That´s all for now...
 
 
 
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Sat, 27 Jun 1998 06:04:22 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Greetings from Granada
 
 

When we last wrote, we were in Barcelona.  Since then we´ve covered
Valencia and the Costa Blanca (by bus).  This message will be shorter
than the last one (hopefully!)

We spent a total of 5 nights and 4.5 days in Barcelona, quite a
beautiful spot.  It was good for us to slow down there and unwind a
bit. The trip through Ireland was tiring, if only because of the
driving.

We walked all over the place in Barcelona. We finally decided to use
the Metro after a particularly long walk. We bought two tickets from
the machine (I felt highly successful at this having figured out the
spanish instructions).  The tickets are cardboard with a magnetic
strip.  With Becca to my right, I put the card in the turn-stile,
thinking how easy and familiar this is. Similar to BART, but something
was different.

Becca´s turnstile worked fine, but mine wouldn´t let me through. What
to do? I tried it over and over, putting the card through.  A Spanish
woman and man came over and started speaking rapid unintelligable
instructions. I let them try. No luck! I must still be suffering from
the Sybase curse, I thought.  Finally I went up to the station agent
who took my card and pressed a button and pointed me toward the side
gate used for invalids and carriages.  I felt like I must have lived
an evil life in my previous incarnation.
Finally, when we next used the Metro, it dawned on me: the machines
are all left handed!  That´s right. You put the card in on the left
side of your body in Spain.  Interface error!

Well, we´re running short on time. We´ll fill you in on Montserrat (40
miles out of Barcelona, and worth the trip!), Valencia (great orange,
lousy city), and Granada (hello mudda, hello fadda, here we are in old
Granada!).....

Adios Amigo´s y Amiga´s

Doug and Becca
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Tue, 14 Jul 1998 09:57:06 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Granada, Morocco, Sevilla, and Segovia
 s

Greeting from Segovia, Spain!

As you recall we last wrote from Granada before we disappeared into
the oblivion of third-world communication systems (Morocco).  We´re
back in Spain, about 40 minutes west-north-west of Madrid, in a great
place: Segovia.  But first here´s a quick review of our adventures
(and lessons learned):
 

June 26 to June 29, Granada - We toured the wonderful castle of the
Moorish kingdom of Granada, the last stronghold of the Muslims in
Spain, the Alhambra, and the giant neo-classical cathedral.  We spent
3 nights there, mostly resting from the rapid pace of our travels, and
getting a chance to do some much needed laundry.

June 29 - Left Granada for Algeciras (the gateway to Morocco), and
stopped in the "Blanco Pueblo" Ronda.  Ronda is perched on cliffs
above a deep gorge with a tall ancient bridge composed of several
layers of graceful arches.
Later that day we arrived in Algeciras, a seedy port town full of
ferry ticket vendors and dirty fading hotels.
We stayed in the Hotel Marrakesh, with a second story window next to a
busy intersection, no hot water, no towels, no toilet paper. (A theme
we encountered throughout Morocco!)

June 30, We took the afternoon ferry to Tangier, hoping to catch a
quick train out of town to Rabat. Along the way we met a friendly
Australian named Brian whom we traveled with the first 2 days.  In
Tangier, we managed to get hustled out of about $10 before we even
left the train station. We bought tickets from a shady guy wearing a
psuedo conductor uniform not knowing either the exchange rate or the
price of a train ticket. Amazingly we only were taken for $5, but the
guy insisted on a tip.  We tipped him 50 dirhams, which we thought was
more like a dollar. for the service.  All this trouble originated from
not realizing that Morocco is on Greenwich Mean Time, while Spain in 2
hours ahead, on European Daylight Savings Time.  We had two hours to
catch the train instead of the two minutes we originally thought.
We arrived in Asilah, the same night, and decided to stay, following
the advice of an "offical" tourist guide.
He  just "happened" to share our train car when we left the station in
Tangier.  He had us more or less in the palm of his hand. He had
credentials, good information and was helpful, but pushy... When we
arrived in Asilah, he helped us find a dirt cheap hotel. However,
people kept coming up tous warning us that he was going to swindle us.
We didn´t know if he was for real or not.  Finally when he went for
the kill, and asked us if we wanted a tour guide for the next day,
Brian and Doug repeatedly thanked him and said "No, we have no
intention to engage your services, but thank you". We were clear about
that from the start, which didn´t seem to register.  Having been
hustled once, we weren´t green any more.

July 1 - Had a wonderful day in Asilah exploring the Medina (old town)
with its ramparts on the ocean, whitewashed walls, and children
practicing their soccer kicks in the narrow alleyways.  We had lunch
(Pastilla) with an Peace Corp Volunteer and several visiting American
friends we met at the train station the night before.  While sitting
on the ramparts enjoying the ocean breeze and warm sun, we met some
friendly Moroccan ladies who spoke fluent English with an London
accent.  They were currently living in London, visiting relatives in
Tangier. That night we left Asilah on the night train, stupidly
thinking that there would be enough room in second class to sleep
across the seats. That night we now call the "Train night from hell".
Becca pretended to sleep sitting in a fetal position on the seat with
two (well behaved) Moroccan guys.  Doug had the whole seat across from
Becca, and Brian slept on the floor. Actually slept is not the right
word. It was more like a bad dream. The train was stiflingly hot,
dirty, the toilet seats were buried in excrement, and the passengers
were a bit noisy and smelly. Other than that, everything was just fine.

July 2 - Marrakesh  We arrived in the morning, and foolishly decided
to walk to a hotel (fearing the Moroccan cabbies would swindle us).
Our photocopied Lonely Planet maps weren´t very good, (or else it
could have been our fearless map reader, Doug who messed up). In
Marrakesh, there are almost  no street signs.  The Lonely Planet's map
didn´t show all the circular intersections - only the big ones.  We
ended up in the right place nonetheless, an hour later, hot, tired and
cranky. Becca had a hole  rubbed i n her side from her backpack.  We
booked into a medium priced hotel, The Hotel Foucald,  which in the
Lonely Planet was described as having a small pool.  After checking in
, I asked the hotel desk clerk where the pool was, and he explained in
French that it was down the block to the left.  I finally realized he
meant the public pool.  There was no pool.  Maybe the lonely planet
guys were smoking a bit too much kiff when they rated that hotel.

We set out to the square, Djemaa El Fna, to have a look at the famous
snake charmers, souks (markets)  and fresh squeezed orange juice
stands.  The place is a zoo. There really were Cobra´s, Horse and Mule
drawn carriages, monkeys on leaches, open air food stalls, women
selling bracelets and Henna tattoo´s (Becca got one).

While walking in the square, we ran into a bunch of Ausie and Kiwi
friends we had met the night before in Asilah. We found  out they were
signing up for a 3 day desert tour starting the next day, and wanted
us to go.  We were interested, and walked over to the Hotel Ali to
check it out.  The hotel woman was a shrewd saleswoman. She showed us
the photos of the sights, people having fun, and the piece de la
resistance: a camel ride in the Sahara desert!  We were sold!  We gave
her the money, and later found out that the Ausies were not going.
They had run out of money and the cash machine (yes they had one) was
on the blink.

Three Day Tour of the Moroccan Desert

June 3 - We left early in a mini-bus with 4 other people and the
driver (whom spoke fluent French to himself the entire time).  Our
fellow passengers were Judy and Orla from Ireland, and Tim and Kate
from London.  Altogether the group dynamics were great. Each couple
brought out a different part of each other, as we took turns getting
to know each other.

We stopped right away for an emergency toilet break. Doug had a bout
of the trots, and borrowed some toilet paper.  Tim wisely explained
the one of the first rules of travel in the third world was to "nick
the loo roll". Everything sound so much better in British English.

We quickly realized that the van was equiped with Air Conditioning (as
advertised).  However, the AC last was in working order a few years
ago.  Oh well, we had the windows to keep us cool.  But it was more
like having a blow dryer in your face than a cool breeze.  We got used
to it.  We drank over three 1.5 liter bottles of water the first
afternoon without the desire to use the toilet.  We drank, and drank
and drank. After a while we would stop in a town and rush to the store
and buy a six pack of big bottles, causing  a stir in the towns where
time is not money.
When we stopped for food, everyone would stare. Wherever we went the
flies were on us like Moroccan rug dealers.  Their flies bite, and
have evolved into super fast nasty little things.  Doug amused himself
trying in vain to kill them. Finally he got one or two.

Briefly, we went to the Kasbah Ait ben Haddou, where they filmed
"Lawrence of Arabia", Ïndiana Jones, and a few other movies (including
the "Life of Brian").  After that we drove on to a hotel near a gorge
where we spent night dining on Moroccan specialties (Berber Omlette),
drinking soda, and playing the Moroccan Bongo´s with the waiters who
doubled as the entertainment.

The next day we drove to the Gorges du Dades, where we hiked with our
sandals on up the warm water of the river, risking schimitosis for the
refreshment of having cool feet. After that a long blistering ride to
the Sahara Desert. Morocco has one major dune area filled with tall
red sand dunes. We drove until the road disappeared and finally only
range rovers drove past.  We started to see camels walking around
loose.  Then we knew we were in the Sahara.  We arrived at the camel
station right before dusk, and managed to get onto some camels and
started out into the desert. We rode for about an hour to a spot where
we sat on rugs while our guides cooked a great Moroccan Tangine.
While we ate, we noticed giant Scarab beetles converging on us. The
girls were not amused. Even the macho guys were more interested in the
size of the bugs than the food.  After a while, one of the guides
poured some water on a spot 10 feet away to attract the beetles.
Later, we sang songs and told jokes, some of which did not translate
well from French into English, or vice versa.

We slept on a dune about 300 meters away to escape the beetles. We
slept as well as possible on the dune.  In the morning we were treated
to the most spectacular red-ball sunrise we ever saw or will see
again.  Then back onto the camels and another long hot (45 degree C,
120 degree F) ride back through the desert, over the High Atlas
Mountains, and back to Marrakesh.  The driver, who talked to himself
the whole time, was a combination of a long distance bus driver, and a
mad prophet. His driving skills made up for his lack of English.  He
drove like a madman on the switchback mountains, while we all got
motion sickness. He would occasionally announce the name of a town,
then stop at a cafe, or just stop so we could get out and take a photo.

July 5 PM - back in Marrakesh, we stayed in the wonderful Hotel Ali
(clean, cheap and English speaking).

July 6th - Marrakesh - Visited the Saadian Tombs, Palais El Bahia, the
most significant architectural remains in Marrakesh.  We avoided the
souks and the hustlers.  Becca went with Judy and Orla to a Hamman
(women only bath with buckets of hot water and massage), while Doug
attempted unsuccessfully to walk to the train station to get
information and tickets for our next destination Essouria (on the
Atlantic Coast).

July 7th - Marrakesh- There was a Holiday, everything was closed, so
we spent the day writing in our journals, and left on a late bus for
Essouria where we hoped to spend a few nights relaxing near the beach.
When we arrived in Essouria it was cold, windy, dark and bleak.
Ghostlike figures wearing robes with pointed hoods floated by. We took
our packs and ventured into the medina without a hotel reservation
(they don´t answer the phone at cheap hotels). Baggage porters pleaded
with us to let them carry our bags. We repeated our mantra:
"No..Merci, No..Merci, No Merci!  NO dammit." Finally we saw the first
real hotel (listed in the guidebook). We were saved! We booked into
that hotel, and kissed the ground.  Actually the hotel was nice, but
we got the worst room in the place.  The toilet leaked permanently
onto the floor, which made the whole place smell of mildew.  We slept
like babes.

 The next morning we went hotel shopping, looking for a cheaper, more
atmospheric place. We found it at the Hotel Smara, recommended by Tim
and Kate. We got a room for about 9 dollars, with a window looking
over the ramparts onto the rocks. We also found a great French pastry
shop where we ate our breakfasts.  By day Essouria was completely
different: The scary guys with the hoods were gone, and now French
tourists and wind-surfers were everywhere.  We relaxed.  We took long
walks on the wind-swept beach, near the amusements (Moroccan kids and
adults in Bumper cars having the time of their lives) and camel
jockeys hawking rides on the beach.  Off in the distance was an
abandoned  ruin of a castle that once inspired Jimi Hendrix to write
"Castles in the Sand".

July 10 - Marrakesh - We had to spend another day in Marrakesh in
order to get the nigh train. So we got wise: We went to a high class
hotel near the station, and rented pool time for the afternoon for
$5.00 each.  We relaxed in style and got sand and salt free at the
same time.  That night we had couchettes on the train back to Tangier.
 The compartment was crammed with 6 people.  We had the top bunks
(most space, but the hottest spot), and roasted through the night back
to Tangier.  When we left the train we marched past the touts and
hustlers straight to the Ferry Terminal where we bought tickets (with
only 12 Dirhams to spare..).  We were almost back home in Spain. When
we went past Gibralter, we were happy campers.  Spain, and even
Algeciras, looked sparkling clean and modern.  We went straight to
McDonalds, and ran to catch the train to Sevilla.

July 11 - Arrived in Sevilla at night, took the bus to the main
tourist zone.  We booked into a hotel and had price shock.  The hotel
was 4000 pesetas. But it had a shower. As we later found out the
shower was wired into the electrical system.  Whenever you touched the
faucets, you could feel 240 volts creeping down your arm. By using the
towel to turn the water on and off we escaped electrocution. First
sticker shock, then electo-shock therapy.  Welcome back to Spain!

July 12 Toured Sevilla: saw the Alcazar and The Cathedral. The Alcazar
was a bit of a disappointment after the Alhambra in Granada, but the
Cathedral was spectacular (and 20 degrees cooler than the streets
outside). We spent the afternoon searching for an internet cafe (had 4
leads), but they were all closed because it was Sunday.  We had a
great Italian meal (with wine!!) , and went for a long evening walk by
the river.

July 13 - Took the AVE high speed train to Madrid (2 hours in line to
get a reservation for the 2.5 hour trip). We had to pay 2400 pesetas
on top of the Eurail passes (supplement for the reservation ... a
consideration if you´re ever thinking  of using Eurail in Spain where
the train fare is cheap, and its hard to break even on the passes).
Finally we caught a regional TRD train to Segovia (2 hours), which is
by comparison to Madrid a laid back mountain town.

July 14 - Took in the Segovia Alcazar, a bavarian style fairy tale
castle, The twelve sided Vera Cruz (True Cross)  Church which was
built in the 13th century by the Knights Templar, which housed a piece
of the cross of the crucifiction (true cross). We also saw Segovia´s
gothic cathedral which is one of the newest Gothic cathedrals in the
world.  Overall, its a scenic town, built of native sandstone which
has a yellowish color.  It looks vaguely Italian, and reminds us of
Sienna, where we were on our honeymoon.  It´s blissfully cool after
Morocco and Sevilla.

NEXT:  Were heading up into France to see the caves near Les Esseyes
(near Perigueux in the Bordeaux Region), to see the pre-historic cave
drawings, then up to Tours, to see the chateaux on the Loire, and
Paris, Mt. St. Michel, and up to Brussels to visit Doug´s cousin Brian
Smith.

Sorry this took so long to write, but we´ve been out of touch for
almost 3 weeks and really wanted to get it all written down.

Our love and regards to everyone... On the road in Spain,
 

Doug and Becca
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
Date:
        Tue, 4 Aug 1998 06:22:03 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Brittany, Paris, and Amsterdam
 
 

The last time we wrote we were in Segovia, Spain.  After a few
relaxing days of hiking the hills and exploring the Alcazar (11th
century castle which was rebuilt  in Disneyesque 19th century style,
complete with peaked roofed turrets and bastions),  we explored a 800
meter long Roman Aqueduct, which provided mountain water to Segovia
when it was a Roman outpost.

We left Segovia heading back to Madrid where we changed trains and
left for San Sebastian in the Basque country.  San Sebastian was
crowded with people who had just come from the "Running of the Bulls"
in Pamplona a few days earlier. Their annual Jazz Festival was in
town, so hotel prices were higher than normal.  We decided to stay in
an illegal room being touted by a guy in front of the tourist office
(a common occurence).  Our room was about 4000 pesetas ($26),  2000
pesetas ($13) less than the cheapest room the tourist office could
find, but it was kind of strange.  The room was basic student housing:
an apartment minus the kitchen.  When You're coming back from Morocco,
there is no such thing as a bad hotel room.  As long as there is a
lock on the door, ventilation, and a roof overhead You're fine.

Thursday July 16th - We traveled by high-speed train to Perigueux,
France in the Dordonne.  This was to be our base for visiting the
pre-historic cave paintings in the area around Les Eyzies - de -
Tayac. We spent the first night exploring the medieval town of
Perigeuex and the excellent local museum (full of ancient pre-historic
artifacts, a few Egyptian mummies and lots of Roman statues and
mosaics). The next morning we took the train to Les Eyzies
(pronounced Le-Zeezy), and waited for the ticket office at the Grotte
de Font-de-Gaume to open.  When it opened at 9:00, we found out that
the only open spot was a 5:00 PM since they only take in groups of 25
people or less.  Reservations are suggested for anyone who is doing
this on a tight schedule! We spent the day hiking around the area near
Les Eyzies, and visiting the National Archaeological museum there.
Apparently, this is one of the first places where both Cro Magnon and
Neanderthal remains were found.  However, there are now several
competing towns nearby with caves and paintings.  The more famous cave
paintings are found near  Les Caux, where the caves paintings are more
colorful, and have more styles of drawing. But those caves have been
closed since 1968.  There they built a replica of the caves for the
tourists. The caves we visited were the real thing.

Saturday July 18th - We took the train to Tours and  stayed in a great
little hotel called the Hotel Elloy. The plan was to rent bikes and
ride out to a few of the many chateaux. The next morning we rented
bicycles from a bike rental place near the station.  The bikes were
about a year old, and needed a little tuning.  We each lost our chain
at least one time, but had no flats.
 The ride out was pleasant, along the river Cher (downhill and perfect
weather). After the first chateau (Villandry) we rode over some small
hills to the Chateau Azay-le-Rideau, and then back to Tours.  At the
end of the ride we were a bit burned out. The bike ride was a bit more
than we expected in terms of distance, and the bikes, ("English Racer"
style upright bikes) while relatively new, were not designed for long
distance rides.  The Chateaux were glorious, and ostentatious, and
were an example of the French "planned opulencence" of the 16th
century, which may have inadvertently led to the French Revolution in
the 18th century.

Monday July 20th - After practicing our French and waiting in line for
the pleasant French woman at the information desk, we boarded the
train for Tours heading up to Pontorson (the last train stop before
Mt. St. Michel). Although the information desk clerk was helpful, the
information we got at the Tours train station was fouled up. To be
precise, it was missing an important piece of information: one of the
last changes we needed to make at Rennes.  We went past Rennes and
ended up in a town further down the line with no more trains leaving
that day for Pontorson. So, we ended up spending the night in Rennes
instead of Pontorson, which was not only more expensive, but it cost
us time the following morning.  Up until then, we were impressed with
the French train system compared to the chaotic Spanish trains. I
attribute the error more to bad data in the database than the computer
systems (which of course are infallible).

Tuesday July 21 - We finally made it to Pontorson where we checked
into our hotel, and rented bikes from the train station. The bikes
were is sad condition, and with the seats fully extended, we felt like
kids riding tricyles, with our knees up under our chins. Mt
Saint-Michel was mobbed with tourists.  Walt Disney definitely was
inspired by this place. The cathederal (and monastary) was built on a
rock in the middle of a quick-sand filled mud flat by Benedictine
Monks back in the middle ages.  Many a medieval pilgrim got stuck in
the mud flats where the tides are known to rush in at 2 meters per
second (faster than most people can run).
The legend is that the devil lives in the sand and pulled the sinful
in to their demise.  If the pilgrims made it to the castle they would
crawl up the street on their knees to the top (symbolic of making it
to heaven, and having their sins admonished).  Along the way, souvenir
vendors plyed them with their trinkets, much as they do to this day.

We had a great tour guide, a Frenchman who looked like the French
actor Gerrard Deperdieu, and talked with his index finger touching the
tip of his nose (for better recall, or possibly just for dramatic
effect). He had lived in London for 17 years, yet still had a good
sense of humor).

Wednesday July 22 - We left for Paris, and spent the later part of the
day exploring Paris on foot: Isle Cite and the outside of the Notre
Damme, The Left Bank (Place Saint Michel - Gilbert Juenne Bookstore),
The Monmartre and Sacre-Coeur, and the Eiffel Tower. The next morning
we bought a 3 day Museum pass (based on advice from a Rick Steves
flyer). It saved us money and saved us from waiting in some long
lines.  But we still got burned out by too many museums in 3 days.
Here's the  list.

Day 1:La Orangerie (Monet's Waterlillies and other impressionists),
The Petite Palais, The Museum of Art Moderne (The Pompidou
Collection), The Arch De Triumph.
Day 2: Notre-Dame Cathedral and Tower, Saint-Chapel, and Versailles,
and back in time to do 2 loads of laundry at the local coin operated
laundramat (lavenrie).

Day 3:  Cemeterie Pere La Chaise (Jim Morrisons grave), Musee Des
Egouts (Sewer Museum), Musee D'Orsay, and the Louvre. (Whew). We
actually only saw part of the Louvre before we got kicked out at
closing time (6:00 PM, not 7:30 as we mistakenly thought).

Wow..  By the end of that week we were so tired (and a bit grouchy)
that we needed to take a week off from playing tourist. I cant help
but wonder what makes tourists want to spend their hard earned
vacation waiting is a line to see some old paintings. It must be
because it's the thing to do (besides taking a million photographs and
videos which almost never get viewed). We needed a vacation from this
tourist hell. But did we do that? nooooo!, instead we were off to
relax in Amsterdam, where everyone in Europe - even the Dutch - go to
let loose and party down.

Sunday July 26th - Amsterdam. We left for Amsterdam early in the
morning and took a room on a street that can be described as the
"Bourbon Street" of Amsterdam. We're a bit too close to the action,
but it's interesting. We found the room as usual from a tout at the
VVV (Amsterdam's offical tourist office).  In terms of atmosphere and
ammenities, its one of the nicest rooms we've come across. But in
terms of noise, it's near the bottom. Fortunately, Doug has his
earplugs and Melatonin, and Becca is a sound sleeper.  We had
breakfast in our room (which even has a room refrigerator and a coffee
maker!!!).  You really should try staying in hotels for 2 months
straight to appreciate little things like having coffee first thing in
the morning, before showering and getting dressed).

We're now in Amsterdam, enjoying the atmosphere, canals, and cafe's.
We're going to drop down into Belgium for a few days to visit Doug's
cousin Brian, and then on to Scandanavia and Germany.  We only have 8
days (of 15) left on our rail pass, so we are trying to stretch them
out as best we can.

Internet access is expensive in France and the Netherlands, so we're
writing this at a local photocopy place on a PC for .25 Guilders a
minute. Later, we'll upload it and send it to You.

Excuse the typos and spelling errors, the version of Word we are using
is set up for a Dutch spelling checker?

Goodbye for now,

Doug and Becca
 
 
 

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Thu, 13 Aug 1998 09:58:33 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Belgium, Luxembourg and the trip to Copenhagen
 
 
 

Well, here we are again. We're now in  Copenhagen getting ready to
take a ferry to Malmo, Sweden, where we're catching a night train for
Berlin.

The last letter came was written in Amsterdam, but mailed from
Waterloo Belgium. (Yes I carry floppies! its not as cool as lugging
around a laptop, but its lighter and I'm cheap)

We traveled south  from Amsterdam to Brussels, and caught a local
train to Waterloo, where we were the guests of Brian and Konnie Smith.
Brian is stationed in Belgium working for IBM.  Brian is Doug's first
cousin. Brian  and Konnie have 2 young  daughters, and an "obnoxiously
affectionate" cat (Face)  which made our visit all the  more lively
and adventurous. When traveling, its easy to  miss  out on children
and pets, so  we took full advantage of the situation. He also let us
use his computer, but that's another  story.  Becca went to local
farmers markets, and the Grand Palace with Konnie while Doug worked on
the computer.

Brian took us to visit the ruins of a monastery Villers-Ville, where
we explored ruins and underground passages, looked for bats in the
underground cellars,  and took  photographs .

After resting for a few days and nights, we  took a day trip to the
wonderful medieval town of Brugges (famous for chocolate, lace, and
Beer) in western Belgium. We saw  a restored manor house, the
Gruuthuse  Museum , which had lots of art, restored rooms, and even
it's own guillotine.

Next we took  a  3 day, 2 night  side trip to Luxembourg. The first
stop was a beautiful town Dinnant, in the south of Belgium. Doug was a
bit irritated that the city fathers decided to lock the public
restrooms so that the cafe owners can charge 20 Belgian Franks for the
privilege of using their facilities.
 
We stayed in the city (Luxembourg) the first night,we were forced to
look  for budget accommodations.  In other words, near the train
station in  the cheapest dive we could find, near all the strip joints
and bars.
Actually it wasn't that  bad. The city of Luxembourg  was very scenic,
due to its location above a river on a cliff. We headed off the next
morning to Diekirch, where we visited the General Patton museum, which
faithfully documents the Battle of the Bulge.  They had lots of
military vehicles, and memorabilia of  the war including propaganda
leaflets from both sides. We stayed overnight in a cute town in the
'Petite Suisse', Vianden and the next day toured its castle. The next
day we stopped in yet another cute town, Echternacht, where we visited
the Cathedral and went to the Abbey museum.  This monsastary was known
in the Middle Ages for it's 'illuminated' manuscripts. The museum had
lots of examples, and was almost as  good   as the one at Trinity
College in Dublin. The town is also known for the annual celebration
of St. Willibrod, the founder of the abbey.  Once a year the whole
town does a processional dance to the cathedral, hopping twice  on
each foot to music that can only be described as a Polka march (we
watched the video in the museum).

Finally we had to leave Belgium, and said our goodbyes to Brian and
Konnie, and the kids (Alex  and Lauren), and began the trip to
Copenhagen.

The train adventure to Copenhagen:  The local train was a half an hour
late leaving Waterloo. The Thalys 'high speed' train to Cologne was
not listed on the departures board when we arrived, so we waited in
line at the Information booth to find out if it was cancelled because
of the strike or whatever. In fact it wasn't cancelled. We got on the
train and despite the long and complicated explanation of why we
didn't need to use a full day of our Eurail pass for the 6:45 to 7 PM
portion of the trip, we got stamped by the Conductor. Becca was so
distraught, that she cried for the next 2 hours.

The day before she spent a couple of hours at the Information office
in Brussels trying to get some information on how to avoid this
situation. They advised her that taking the Thalys train was a reduced
fare for Eurail, and therefore didn't require the use of a Eurail day
on the ticket (44 USD per person!). In essence we paid a hefty
supplement and also had to use a Eurail day, even though we could have
taken a less expensive train to Cologne.

Things went from bad to worse when the 'high speed' Belgian 'Thalys'
train had engine trouble and stopped in a forest near the border. The
high speed train was only able to chug along at about bicycle speeds.
We were over an hour late coming into Cologne (Koln) and missed our
connection with the train to Copenhagen on which we had 2nd class
couchette reservations (20 USD per person).

The conductor recommended we try taking another train which was a bit
faster, and catch up to the Copenhagen train en-route. We finally
caught up to the train in Hamburg at about 2 AM (they held the
Copenhagen train in Hamburg after Doug asked them twice about whether
we would catch them). We did manage to get in about 6 hours of sleep
before we finally arrived in Copenhagen.

The silver lining: We did get a refund from the Eurail office in
Copenhagen (the DSB Train Reservation office) because we were given
bad advise.

We made it safely to Copenhagen and found a great government funded
service here called 'Use It' with free internet access (15 minutes
max) and free left luggage, and help finding rooms. Isn't Socialism
great?

We're writing this quickly at the Use It office which is about to
close. We'll have to add the details to it later.

That's all for now,

Doug and Becca
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
Date:
        Tue, 25 Aug 1998 13:04:04 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        On the road in Denmark, and Germany
     To:
 
 
 

The last message left off in Copenhagen. We were running out of time
at the free internet access place (Use It). So now we are in Italy in
Sorrento, south of Pompei.  How did we end up here? Its a long story...

Monday August 10, Copenhagen.  We walked around the streets of
Copenhagen exploring. All the museums were closed because it was
Monday. The weather looked a bit grim, so we stopped into a shop and
finally bought Becca a silk jacket to make up for the one she left
behind at the San Francisco airport security checkpoint.  We stopped
to visit the little Mermaid statue, and were more amused by the group
of camera clicking tourists trying to walk on slippery rocks (in high
heels) to have their pictures taken by the statue.

Tuesday August 11, Copenhagen. We stayed overnight in a private room
about 5 miles out of the center, in a guys basement. Actually it was a
really nice room, and even had its own little kitchen bath and shower
for about $30.00 (one of the cheaper places in northern Europe).  We
found the place through 'Use It', the free service we mentioned
before.  We visited the city (history) museum, the Museum of the
Danish WWII Resistance, the 'Free Town' or Christiania, sort of a
cross between a Danish version of Amsterdam's Coffee Houses(where
coffee houses serve pot, and cafe's serve coffee) and  Berkeley's
Telegraph Avenue, Peoples Park.
We ended the night with a fun romp through Tivoli Gardens where we ate
Waffles, rode wimpy roller-coasters, some 'make-you-sick' astronaut
training rides.

Wed. August 12, Roskilde, Denmark. We left Copenhagen for a day trip
to Roskilde, the 12th century capital of Denmark. Here  we visited the
Viking museum, where several Viking ships which have been partially
restored are displayed.  The ships were retrieved from the fjord where
they were sunk to blockade invading forces.

We stopped at the train station information office in Copenhagen to
make our reservations for our next leg, and found that all the second
class couchettes going to Berlin through Odense were booked. So
instead we decided to take the hydrofoil to Malmo Sweden, and then
reserved a couchette on the night train to Berlin.

Thurs Aug 13, Copenhagen. We toured the Carlsberg Brewery Tour. This
was our third tour, and this time we saw a fully operating brewing and
bottling plant. It was actually a better tour than the Heineken Tour,
and at the end we got to try all the different kinds of beer brewed by
Carlsberg.

We left that night on the Ferry for Malmo Sweden. Doug tried to spend
his last Danish Kronen on a bottle of wine at the ferry. Everyone on
the ferry had a luggage cart with cases of beer (and liquor) to bring
back to Sweden.  Swedish taxes on liquor are high.

The hydrofoil ride was over in 45 minutes and we boarded our train,
and found our couchettes. What was interesting about the trip was that
at one point they put the entire train (all sleeping cars) on the
ferry without anyone really noticing.  We tried to stay awake to see
the ferry, but fell asleep before it happened.

Friday Aug. 14, Berlin. We woke up on the train at 6:45 AM in Berlin.
In a panic we got off at the Berlin HBF (Hauptbahnhoff), which is also
called the Belin Ost Bahnhoff, instead of going to the Berlin Zoo
station which is acting as the real main station until a new main
station can be built. We jumped on the next train and watched out the
window as we rolled through what used to be East Berlin, past the
River and Museums, and the Reichtstag, surrounded by dozens of cranes
creating a new skyline on what used to be 'the wall'.

We had a rough time using our Visa Debit cards on the German ATM's, so
we had to wait an hour for the Bank to open to get a cash advance
(Deutchmarks).  There was nothing wrong with the Visa cards. German
Banks are very strange. They seem to distrust all credit cards,
especially foreign ones.

We stayed in an unaffiliated private youth hostel (double for about
$45) called 'Let Em Sleep', in a trendy neighborhood in East Berlin
called the Prenzlauerberg.  The most notable feature of the
neighborhood was the Graffiti. Apparently after the unification all of
Germany was painted over in hideous graffiti, that looks like a bad
rendition of 1970's New York City (unlike some of the creative
graffiti on the former Berlin Wall).

We took the S-Bahn (Snell Bahn), a creaky old East German System, back
to the Zoo, and caught a 2:30 walking tour. On the tour we saw: The
Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche (destroyed by British bombs in 1943,
and left in its half demolished state); the place where the Nazi's
burned the books, the Brandenberg Gate, Unter Den Linden (the
boulevard where the Nazi's cut down all the trees for better parading,
which leads up to the Brandenberg Gate); The Reichtag (being rebuilt);
The site of Hitler's Bunker (now a parking garage); Potsdammer Platz;
and Checkpoint Charlie. All through the area that used to be the
Berlin Wall, and especially in Potsdammer Platz, modern highrise
towers are under construction, in what must be the largest
construction site ever created by man.
 

Sat. August 15,  We went to see an attraction called the 'Topography
of Terror', on an empty lot which was the site of the headquarters of
the Nazi SS. There were many photographic displays which were
unfortunately all in German. They are going to build a new building
for a museum on the site for the memorial to the holocaust victims.
After this we went back to Checkpoint Charlie to see the museum called
'Haus am Checkpoint Charlie', which is a museum that documents all the
escape attempts from East Berlin to West Berlin.  Some of the escape
attempts were elaborate, involving everything from hot air balloons,
to tunnels, to a harness and pulley system, where the people literally
rode out of an apartment window over some wire barriers to freedom.
It's really hard to believe how much things have changed, and how evil
and corrupt the East German police (Stazi) were.

Berlin was an interesting place, not for the architecture, but for the
history. Because in a way, the history of Berlin in the twentieth
century was more dramatic than almost anywhere else. The place is
still a bombed out hulk, but it's changing very quickly. Go there to
see the history there  before it gets paved over and made into a copy
of Manhattan.

--- It's now 10:00, and the internet rates are going up here, so we'll
continue this tomorrow.  Goodbye for now! ----

Doug and Becca (in Italy!)
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Wed, 26 Aug 1998 10:26:38 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        On the road in Berlin, Germany, Austria and Italy
 

Continuation of yesterdays letter...

Sunday August 16, Berlin. We visited the Pergamon Museum in the former
East Berlin. The museum is a rival to the British Museum with regards
to Ancient artifacts and temple ruins. The highlight was the Pergamon
Altar, which is really a complete Hellenic (Greek) building that was
purchased by the Germans during the first Reich in 1871, moved  to
Berlin to show off Berlin's new cultural legitimacy. The Germans did
discover it, and excavate it, so you have to give them credit. The
building is beautifully preserved, and survived two world wars.  It
has some magnificent marble carved reliefs of the Gods fighting the
Giants, and some interesting carvings depicting the life of Hercules
and his son. They also had a great 6th Century Processional Babylonian
Gate and throne room, as well as statuary from the Assyrian and other
civilizations.

Audio-guides were provided free with the admission. Doug's started to
sound garbled (not unlike 'Bozo under the Sea'), so he got a second
one which ran out of batteries halfway through. Was it the Sybase
curse again?

That night we took off on a night train for Koblenz (in western
Germany). Because there were no second class couchettes available, we
took a first class sleeper car (90 DM each! or about $100 total, our
most expensive hotel yet!). The car was almost new. It was kind of
neat to take a shower and eat breakfast (free!) on the train. This is
the way to travel if you are on expense accounts. It's a far cry from
the night train from hell in Morocco.

Monday Aug. 17th, Koblenz-Bacharach. On the same Eurail day (begun
after 7 the night before), we were able to take the Rhine cruise on
the Dusseldorfer-Koln Line, as part of our rail pass. The weather was
nice, but a little bit hazy. We saw some castles, and lots of pretty
vineyards, the slate cliff called Lorelei, and got off in Bacharach.
On the cruise we amused ourselves by watching hopeless American
tourists snap pictures of castles that were too far away or back lit.
We stayed overnight in a youth hostel high above the city in a Castle
called Berg Stahleck. We also remembered why they call them youth
hostels. The place was crawling with screaming 12 year olds, who were
all high on too many Coca-Colas.  However, we had dinner, a double
room with shower, and breakfast all for a very reasonable price.

Tuesday August 18, Bacharach to Wurzburg.  We got up early and took a
quiet, tourist free walk through medieval Bacharach, admiring the half
timbered houses, cobblestone streets town wall, and towered gates. We
had an expensive cake and coffee in a local bakery before getting on
the train to Mainz, where we caught another train to Frankfurt, and
finally a third train to Wurzburg.  Wurzburg is the head of the
tourist itinerary known as the 'Romantic Road'. It's a fairly large
town and has quite a bit to see and do. It was bombed heavily in WW2,
but looks great thanks to thoughtful restoration work. We stopped at a
wine tasting place and tasted the local Franconian wines, and did a
self guided walking tour of the town, all before the sun set.  We
stayed overnight in a reasonable hotel near the station, so that we
could be up in time for the Romantic Road Bus at 10:00.

Wed. August 19th, Wurzburg - Hohenschwangau (Neuschwanstein). Using
our Eurail pass we got on the Romantic Road Bus tour. There is a rumor
that Eva Braun is live and working as a tour guide on the Romantic
Road touring company. Actually, we got a very authoritarian, but
helpful guide for the first part of the ride. We almost missed the bus
at one stop. As Doug was focusing his camera for a final picture, the
bus started to leave right on the dot. Becca ran to the bus leaving
Doug behind. Finally Doug hopped on the moving bus as it pulled out!
We stopped in alot of cute little towns, but the major stop was in
Rothenberg, where we simply had to see the Criminal Museum. This
wasn't the first such museum we've been to: the first was the Criminal
Museum in Vienna last fall. Rothenberg's was less focused on sick
crimes, and more focussed on medieval law and sick punishments,
primarily torture and embarasment. Rothenberg is a pretty town that
was almost entirely rebuilt after WW2.  Still it looks old, and is
worth a day or so for a visit in the future. We didn't have a hotel
booking in Fussen (the end of the line), so we took the second tour
guides offer for a room for 90 DM in a town near Fussen. We didn't
really know where the hotel was going to be, but we lucked out. The
hotel was poised right below 'Mad' King Ludwig's Newuschwanstein
castle.  We got to stroll through the small town of Hohenschwangau,
looking at the lake and the beautiful old hotels and castles, lit up
at night. There are actually two castles: the original one, built by
Ludwig's father, and Ludwig's place overlooking it across the way.
Ludwig of course never saw the profits from his wild imagination. Walt
Disney, and the current owners are doing quite well however.

Thurs Aug. 20, 1998 Hohenschwangau, Bavaria. We visited Ludwigs
castle, and although we got there at 2 minutes after the opening time,
we still had to wait in lines (one for each language). We felt sorry
for the two Japanese girls standing in the Japanese language line all
alone because there was a 35 person minimum per group. All the other
Japanese people were joining into the German or English lines. The
tour was rapid paced, and the tour guide reminded me of the Swedish
chef on the Muppets. We couldn't really understand much he said, but
the palace was spectacular: almost all the murals were paintings of
Wagnerian operas, and one room was a sort of an artificial cave.  Our
Romantic Road tour guide gave us a defense of Ludwig's life. Although
he bankrupted Bavaria building the castle, and refused to fight in any
wars, he spent two thirds of the national budget on education and the
arts. No country today can say that. As a result, the powers that be
got him declared mad to get him off the throne. He was found dead in
the lake with his doctor under mysterious circumstances.  It was
declared a suicide, but no-one knows to this day what really happened.

Our next destination was Innsbruck, Austria. To get there by train we
had to take a complicated route (not in any guide book). Where there's
a will there's a way-
We took the bus to Fussen Germany, another to Ruette Austria, where we
caught a train to Gramach Germany, and  finally to Innsbruck Austria.
The train rides were spectacular. We saw some valleys in Austria that
rivaled Switzerland. We watched as people stacked hay by hand. In the
Alps, every blade of grass is harvested and stored for the winter.

We arrived in Innsbruck, and booked into cheap student housing at the
International Student House. We splurged on a meal at the Ottoburg
restaurant near the Golden Dachel (roof) where an Austrian Cultural
Festival was going on. After dinner we watched Tirolian Dancing and
Brass Bands with bandmembers wearing Lederhosen on the Square. It
created a great atmosphere.

Friday Aug 21, We visted the Innsbruck Hofkirche (Imperial Church,
filled with bronze statues), and the Tiroller Volksmuseum. The folk
museum was very interesting both from a cultural point of view (how
did Lederhosen evolve at that altitude?), and from the point of view
of architecture. They had room after room of traditional Bavarian
interiors (heavy on the woodwork, with benches and carvings
everywhere), clothing, and weird modern art exhibits incongruously
placed throughout. In the afternoon the weather turned rainy.

Saturday Aug 22, Innsbruck. We did laundry at the 'Bubble Spot'. There
is something about the washing machines or the detergent they use
there. Doug's underwear was clean for the first time in years.
we spent hours windowshopping in the rain waiting for our night train
to Napoli Italy.  Finally we went back to our 'hotel' and had a long
conversation with an Italian-Austrian guy who worked as a clerk. He
got all excited when he found out Doug was from Wisconsin, as every
year a big group from UW-LaCrosse visits there.

That night we had the couchette from hell. This time we shared a
couchette with an Italian family. The heater in the old Italian car
was stuck on high. It must have been over 90 degrees Farenheit. The
Italian Papa had taken over control of the windows, by virtue of being
on the middle berth (3 levels on 2 sides). After about an hour, Doug
started to suffocate and panic. The doors were locked using a special
Italian night train lock. Doug couldn't open the door, but the Italian
guy finally did open it. But he never opened the window more than a
crack. Finally Becca to the rescue! Becca took charge and threw the
window and door open and sat up guarding the door for an hour. Doug
probably shocked the whole family by taking off his jeans for most of
the night to keep them from being soaked in his sweat. We finally
arrived, wet, hot, and tired in Napoli around 11 in the morning.

Sunday Aug. 23, Napoli. After checking into our cheap hotel, Hotel
Cassanova, we took a shower, and a nap.
We walked through the Neopolitan ghetto to the National Museum
(Archaeology), to see the magnificent collection of mosaics, painted
walls, and statuary from Pompei. We had a couple of pizzas outside in
a cafe, and found out that there are some steep cover charges - 6000
lira for 2 coperti. That was the same price as one pizza! Another
lesson learned.

Naples has a bad reputation for crime. In actuality, there is very
little violent crime, and much petty thievery.  Unless you are a
member of the Mafia in which case the reverse is true.

Monday Aug 24, Napoli-Pompei. We took the Circumvesuvio line train to
Pompei, and spent the day exploring the Roman ruins with a borrowed
english guidebook which we got from the nice hotel clerk.
Unfortunately there was no map with it, but we managed to see all the
major houses and sites anyway.  Without going into detail here (due to
time), this is a great place to visit. Especially interesting were the
plaster casts made of the victims of the volcano in 79 AD. You can see
the exact position they were in at the time, the clothing, and even
the expressions on their faces.

Tuesday Aug 25th, Napoli-Sorrento. We took the same railway all the
way down to Sorrento where we are now staying. We picked a place out
of the guidebook, and it turned out to be a little bit out of town (a
15 minute walk up hill). We took a local bus to the hotel. After
missing our stop, a friendly English speaking elderly Italian man who
lives in San Diego, and runs some kind of export business, rode back
down the line with us showing us exactly where to get off. I guess he
likes riding the bus all day back and forth.

After taking a stroll through the town, we fell in love with Sorrento.
It's very scenic, is oriented to English speaking tourists (including
signs on restaurants that say 'no extra charges'), and is centrally
located between Pompei and the Amalfi Coast.

After having a great meal of Lasagne in town, (and using the
internet), we got a bottle of wine and had a drink on the roof of our
hotel, looking at the lights across the Bay of Napoli and around
Mt.Vesuvius. The stars were out, and we sat and identified
constellations.  It was a great evening all in all.

Wednesday Aug 26 - Today! All we did today is to go to the rocky
beach. Actually that's the one thing they need here: some sand. We
almost got hurt sitting on the rocky volcanic shore when large waves
swept over us, knocking us off our rear-ends.  We got a bit scraped
up, then moved to higher ground. Of course after that we watched as
more and more people suffered the same fate. If this beach were in
California, there would be warning signs every 10 feet.  But in Italy,
you live dangerously, or not at all!

Due to the high prices of rooms further down the coast (in Amalfi), we
decided to stay here in Sorrento for a few extra nights and take day
trips.  On Saturday we're heading down to Sicily (Siracusa, and
possibly Agrigento) to see Greek Ruins.
 

Well that's all for now. We will probably be out of touch until we get
to Greece, sometime around September 4th.

Ciao!
 
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Tue, 8 Sep 1998 11:40:06 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        On the road in Italy and Greece

Hi again from the intrepid Doug and Becca team weaving our way through
Europe! In this episode we go from Italy to Sicily, back across the
boot to the heel of the Italian peninsula. From there it's ferry to
Greece, where we are writing this note.

When we last wrote, we were in Sorrtento, Italy sometime around August
26th.

Sorrento Aug. 27-28 After the first two nights in a room facing the
road, we moved over into room 9 at Hotel Helios, facing the Bay of
Napoli. From our room, which had a small deck you could see people
fishing and swimming 500 feet below, near a sandy cove owned by the
neighboring camping place. We loved this breezy room (room 9. This was
our 'room with a view'.

We took a day trip to Amalfi on the local bus, which qualifies as one
of the worlds best 'white knuckle' thrill rides.  For $2.50 a person,
the views of the cliffs and the houses clinging to them were
spectacular.

We got to Amalfi and put our beach towels down on the local 'free
beach' (normally there is no free beach at all and you have to pay to
use the cabanna chairs in order to have water access). The weather was
 getting a little bit unsettled as we approached Amalfi via Positano.
In Amalfi, we stoped for an expensive cappuchino and croissant near
the main square. We were outraged to find out the bill was 16,000
lira($9.00) Just the day before we had two meals in Sorrento for that!
Doug went for a swim while Becca read mystery novels. After about an
hour it began to slowly rain. We were the last people on the beach to
give up.

When it cleared we went back to the beach to give it another try. The
next time a few drops started to fall, we bailed immediately and
headed for higher ground. We found cover near the bus stop under a
canvas awning of a restaurant that was closed. Suddenly the heavens
let loose and we were joined by about 100 dripping wet Italians. 5
buses were lined up about 50 feet away (all on break, no one
displaying their destination sign). When our bus was ready we ran
through puddles and boarded the bus for Sorrento. On the way back we
were rewarded with a giant rainbow over Amalfi.

Sat Aug 29, Sorrento. After spending the entire day walking around
scenic Sorrento (getting a bit bored), we took the night train to
Siracusa, Sicily.  We first had to backtrack to Napoli to catch the
train. We ate at McDonalds, then waited on the tracks while a group of
"Scouts" (teenage boys and girls dressed like Boy Scouts) played
guitars and sang.

Sun Aug 30 - Tues Sept 1, Siricusa, Sicily. We arrived in Siracusa
(Ancient Syracuse) in search of ruins. What we found was some really
ruined ruins. Theres not much left of the place, having gone through
many different invasions. However we did get to see remnants of the
Temple of Apollo (3 or 4 columns) and the Temple of Venus, which is
now a Baroque church. The pillars of the old Greek temple are visible
both inside the church and outside.  The most memorable part was the
great ice cream on our walks back from the old part of town. Next time
we'll rent a car. The best ruins are in Agrigento which was 6 hours by
train and 4 hours by bus from Siracusa.

We took the night Train to Brindisi and had a whole compartment to
ourselves (by virtue of paying $4 extra to only have 4 people instead
of 6) Figuring that there are more people who would go for the 6, we
won this one! We fell asleep to the roaring sound of a throng of
Sicilians waving goodbye to their friends and family in the middle of
the night. It sounded a bit a riot in progress. This is normal
behavior in Italy. Nobody just says goodbye.

Wed. Sept 2, Train to Brindisi, Italy and Ferry deck class to Greece

We awoke in the mountains of Southern Italy, and went through some
spectacular and untouristed mountains near Eboli. Finally we arrive in
Bridnisi, which has undergone a face lift since Doug's last trip to
Greece in 1990. We arrived at 1:00 right when all the stores were
closing. We couldn't even buy our ferry tickets until 4:30. Doug ran
around town searching in vain for a couple of foam sleeping pads for
use with our sleeping bags.

We boarded the ferry with about 50 other backpackers. Each group went
to a different part of the boat to stake out deck territory. Doug
found a good spot in the front protected from the wind by a metal
wall. Noone else wanted the spot. Everyone else wanted to get as far
forward as possible. The sun was setting and people were getting out
their sleeping bags, and eating their grocery store food, beer and
wine on the deck.

It was dark as the boat finally moved out of the port. Becca went off
to brush her teeth. About a minute latter a group of 50 Italians
invaded the deck to see the boat leave the port. Doug tried in vain to
keep people from climbing all over our sleeping bags and packs.  Also
at the same time, the wind started to whip. Sleeping bags were in
danger of blowing overboard. Finally the novely of immitating Leonardo
DiCaprio wore off for the Italians and they gave us back our deck
space.  The wind continued, and did not let up until morning.

In the course of the night the rest of the deck class people in the
bow moved into our little area. Drunk French guys were running around
in their boxers hitting each other with their sleeping bags and
throwing each others clothes into the wind. All this was happening
while we faked sleeping in our mummy bags.

We actually did get some sleep that night but in the morning we had
sore heinies, and swore to get some foam pads in Greece.

Thurs Sept. 3

In the morning we got up with the sun and had our breakfast on deck.
Later we got a cappachino in the lounge area.

We arrived in Patras, Greece at about 6:30 PM, a little bit sunburned,
dehydrated, and sleepy. Patras (the main port of the Peloponese)
looked busy but not really grimy. Actually Patras looks alot like
Oakland.

We boarded a bus run by the Hellenic-Mediteranean Lines (Available
only on the boat, it makes the trip to Athens in a mere 3.5 hours for
25,000 lira each, or $15). The alternative was the body jolting 5 hour
train to Athens leaving at 8:30 PM.

Arrived Athens 10 PM. We had no idea where we were. Our instincts were
to start walking and get out of the bus area. We walked to the nearest
square, took one long look at the map, and gave up. We took a cab.
Fortunatley, Greek cabs are among the cheapest in Europe. The cabby
was an old grouch who told us he wouldnt take us to the hotel. Finally
he said "That street is not for cars. Pedestrians only."  The bill was
only 850 Greek Drachma. He also charged us 50 extra for *each* bag.
Once again we had no idea if we were ripped off or not.Welcome to
Greece.

We walked to our hotel, only to find that our reservation had been
*transfered* to another hotel. We left in disgust (knowing that our
country to country calls were a waste of time and money), and
wondering if they gave away our credit card number as well. Finally we
found a place at Hotel Phaedra. After getting into our cheap 9000 Dr.
room, we looked out of the window and saw (ta da) the Acropolis, all
lit up. Of course we had the back side of it, and couldn't see the
Parthenon, but there were some genuine Greek columns up there.

Friday September 4, Athens.

Spent most of the day dealing with the  India consulate -26000 Drachma
for the Telex and Visa Application fee. We will pick up the visa 4
working days later (Thurs.) when we must pay another 20,000 Dr. Doug
set a world record for the 1600 meter run to get to the National Bank,
and back as Becca filled out the form. We had only 11,000 left in our
wallets, and 30 minutes until the visa office of the consulate closed
(open 8:30-11:30 AM).

We spent the rest of the day exploring the Plaka, the tourist area
below the acropolit. We climbed up a hill below the parthenon around
sunset, and gazed out over the Ancient Agora. We could see the Temple
of Hespasian. off in the distance.

Saturday September 5, Train to Olympia.  We went to the train station
early to get on the 8:49 IC train to Olympia (change at Pyrgos). This
time the train was full, and we had to take the local train which left
an hour later.  We got to Pygos 7 and 1/2 hours later, after a slow,
sweaty and bumpy ride. We had to wait about an hour and half for a
train to Olympia (15 KM away). A bike could cover that distance in
less time.
We finally got into Olympia around 9:30. We found a free room easily,
walking up the main road with a couple of French backpackers we had
befriended.

Sunday September 6, Olympia.  We got up extra early to get to the
ruins of Ancient Olympia before the tour buses, and the blistering
sun. We did get the place  more or less to ourselves for a half  hour
but soon the place was full of groups. Some tour groups amused us by
running races in the Olympic stadium, and crowning the victor with
Olive Branches.

The Archeological site was really great after being disappointed in
Syracusa. There is a massive group of columns near an area where the
atheletes would train that really stood out. The best part was the
Temples of Zeus and Herra. Zeuses Temple has fallen down and cant get
up, but Herra's is still standing tall. Near the Temple of Herra, they
still light the olympic torch using a parabolic mirror to light the
eternal flame from the sun.

Bus to Corinth via Tripoli that evening. -Incredible views going up
the canyon to Megalopolis and Tripoli.
We changed busses in Tripoli (major crossroad and dumpy town), and
headed to Korintos, home of Ancient Corinth, of Biblical fame. The bus
left us off in front of a cafe near a freeway exit. It was dark and
forbidding. A guy in the cafe bore a strong resemlance to Charles
Manson. We quickly decided to try the gas station/snack shop across
the road. There, the girl at the counter gave us the name of a hotel
in town and called us a cab. The cab arrived minutes later and whisked
us to Hotel Aktri on the main street. The hotel was a fleabag, but it
was cheap Dr. 6000. The only problem was that the room was full of
blood thirsty mosquitos. Deja Vu.

Mon Sept 7 Korintos, and Ancient Corinth.
We left our bags at the hotel and went to the square to look for the
bus to Ancient Corinth. After stopping for coffee and pastries, we
asked at least 4 different people where the bus for Ancient Corinth
was. With only a minute left before the bus was scheduled to leave, we
found it, almost by accident.  It was only a 15 minute rided

We got to the site early enough to avoid tour groups. The site was
marvelous. A huge temple of Apollo, with seven austere doric columns
stands slightly above the level of the Forrum. In the forrum are ruins
of an sacred spring, and the Fountain of Peirene. Doug was able to
climb into the cave-like fountain through set of massive sculpted
marble windows, and walk in one of the chambers that used to be full
of water. The spring is still flowing on one side of the Fountain. The
museum was also a good (and free) adjunct to this site.

Although this was one of the best Greco-Roman sites we visited, it
also gets the least amount of tourism. The best way to visit this area
is by rental car. It's about 2 hours out of Athens, and is also near
Epidaurus which has a Greek theater with perfect accoustics.

Above the ruins of Ancient Corinth sits the Byzantine fortress known
as Acrocorinth. There's no way to get up there except foot (2 hours in
the sun) or cab
(2-3 thousand round trip). So we took the Rick Steves approach and
looked four other tourists with rental cars. Fortunately we found a
friendly guy from Arizona and his wife, and adult son from Montanta,
who gave us a lift up the hill.

After getting almost to the top by car there is a long uphill hike to
get to the top. We went though a series of city gates and walls, to a
fortress in the sky, looking out over the Gulf of Corinth.

We got lucky on bus connections going back to Athens and got into town
around 5:30 in time to take city bus and Metro back to the Monasteraki
station. From there its a 10 minute walk back to our hotel,  This time
the Phadera was full up, and we went to the hotel of last resort Hotel
Adams (10,000 for a double), up the street.

Today, September 8, Athens

Today we went to the Ancient Agora, or marketplace known also as the
nexus of ancient Athenian life. This is the place where Socrates gave
lessons in the market place, where Hipocrates invented his oath, and
where Demoracy began. Today there are remnants of the Greek and Roman
era, including a fabulously undamaged temple, the Thessesion, or
Temple of Hephasestus, which sits on a small green hill overlooking
the Agora. The museum there is a recreation of an ancient building
called the Stoa of Attalos. It was rebuilt by the American Classical
Academy. It's a faithful reproduction of the original building except
for the color (white marble). In the ancient days all the buildings
would have been painted bright colors.

Well, that's about all for now. This internet connection is really
slow and expensive.  We wont be writing again for a while, because
we'll be off in the Greek Islands and Turkey. The telecommunications
from the middle east may have to wait until we find a place in Cairo
or Israel.

- Doug and Becca
(Sept. 8th, 1998)
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
 

Date:
        Mon, 28 Sep 1998 05:35:50 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Greetýngs from Cappadocýa
  
 
 

Greetýngs from Capadocýa (ýn Central Turkey).

I'm usýng a Turkýsh keyboard, and sýnce I,m a touch typýst, we are
gettýng funny characters for the lower case I and punctuatýon.  Due to
týme lýmýtatýons (týme ýs money on the Internet), what you see ýs what
you get!

Also, we have far too much stuff to report, so we,ll probably do ýt
later sometýme when we have both týme and a cheaper connectýon.

Meanwhýle, here ýs the brýef brýef versýon of our last 3 or so weeks:
----------
We met up wýth Becca parents ýn Athens. They just happened to be
travellýng through (just kýddýng!)and so we hooked up for a a fýve day
stýnt of travel from Athens to Crete to Santorýný.

On the way we spent a day ýn Athens crammýng ýn the Acropolýs,
Natýonal Archaeologýcal Museum, and a trýp to a busy market place near
Omonýa Square lookýng for sýlýcon  (shoe goo  substýtute) to repaýr
Becca,s Teva sandals.

We left for Heraklýon (Crete) on a rather nýce ferry, shared a cozy 4
person cabýn (luxury!).  In Crete we saw Knossos (ancýent Mýnoan
Palace) and the museum. We had a day to drýve to the south coast to
see more ruýns and to go swýmmýng at a nýce beach.

Onward to San Torýnýt, where we výsýted Doug,s old haunts ýn Perýssa
Beach. Doug got mysterýously ýll (travellers trots), but dýd manage to
go wýth the famýly to Oýa (ee-ah). We celebrated Becca,s býrthday wýth
a nýce fýsh dýnner ýn a taverna on the beach. Then on we went to Naxos
sayýng goodbye to Beccaa,s parents who went off to Paros (neýghborýng
ýsland)

From Naxos we went to Samos a day later. Then from Samos to Kusadassý
Turkey. We stayed overnýght ýn Selçuk (Seljuk), saw Ephesus the next
day. From there we went to Pamukale to see the tavertýnes (býg
dýsappoýntment). but dýd see the aaawesome ruýns at Aphrodýsýas.  From
there we took a mýný bus rýde (6 hours) to Anatalya where we took a
cruýse on a yacht (more of a converted wooden fýshýng boat) to
celebrate Becca,s býrthday and to escape the noýse and the carpet
dealers ýn the old town. Next we took a nýght bus to Capadocýa and got
dropped off on the hýghway at 5 AM ýn the wrong town. Fýnally we dýd
make ýt to Göreme whých ýs where we are now.

Göereme ýs probably the most ýnterestýng place we,ve been to yet, and
cant do ýt justýce ýn thýs letter. The place looks lýke a valley full
of conýcal tufa rocks that were (and stýll are) ýnhabýted for
centurýes. They were buýlt by Chrýstýans ýn the 12th century.

We,re out of týme for now. Bye for now, and we wýll update you later!

Doug and Becca
(courtesy of Flýntstones Travel)
Göreme, Turkey
 
 
 
 
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Fri, 2 Oct 1998 03:31:34 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        On the road from Athens to Istanbul. (revised!)
     To:
        jenatkins@yahoo.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

Hello again,

We're in Istanbul. Finally we have a fast modem connection 36.6, and a
US keyboard! So what we're going to do is re-send the last letter with
editing:  no more funny Turkish "y's" popping up all over the place.
Also we're going to beef up the message a bit with some of the details
we didn't have time to add. Finally we'll update you on the trip from
Cappadocia to Istanbul.

-----------

We met up with Becca parents in Athens. They just happened to be
traveling through (just kidding!)and so we hooked up for a a five day
stint of travel from Athens to Crete to Santorini. We had been trying
to coordinate this since June, and it almost didn't work. It's very
hard to know exactly where you are going to be on a given day. This is
especially true in places like Greece, where the frequency of the
Ferries and busses ranges from once a week to 12 times a day.

On the way we spent a day in Athens cramming in the Acropolis,
National Archaeological Museum, and a trip to a busy market place near
Omonia Square looking for silicon  (shoe goo  substitute) to repair
Becca's Teva sandals. The National Museum is where the famous frescos
from Santorini are. The frescos are more interesting that the actual
dig, as Becca's parents can vouch. So if you are either on your way to
the islands or on your way back, this museum is a must.

We left for Heraklion (Crete) on a rather nice ferry, shared a cozy 4
person cabin (luxury!).  In Crete we saw Knossos (ancient Minoan
Palace) and the museum. The highlights of the museum were more Minoan
frescos, replicas of which have been hanging on our bathroom walls for
9 years! At Knossos, the ruins have been "improved" (i.e., recreated
to a hypothetical look) by the archaeologist Evans. The end result is
stunning, but historically suspect, as are the frescos in the museum
which are 90% reconstructed as well. I guess the archaeologists have
to be given a little artistic license.

We had a day to drive to the south coast to see more ruins at Gortys,
and to go swimming at a nice beach.
At Gortys we climbed around the ruins of a Byzantine church (probably
laid to waste by the Turks who invaded and occupied Crete for a long
time). There also was a Roman Odeon and plenty of old columns and
Corinthian Capitals strewn about. We had a lunch in the shade of an
ancient olive tree behind the Odeon. On the walls of the Roman
structure there are Greek inscriptions of the "Laws of Gortys (Gortys
Codex), which had been reused as a scrap material for the Odeon.

We had a good time at the Beach in Mettala, which is one of the old
time hippy haunts of the world. Hippies used to occupy the caves above
the beaches. Nowadays, the hippies have been cleared out and public
restrooms and changing booths have been added to attract visitors with
more financial resources. Becca's parents (Jean and Charlie) had the
foresight to bring their snorkles and diving masks, so we all got a
chance to explore the underwater world next to the cliffs. On the way
back, Doug drove the rented car high up into the mountains on a
harrowing ride through Greek villages with streets that were designed
as single lane donkey roads. We miraculously made it back to Heraklion
without a scratch, just in time for a major traffic jam due to a
religious festival celebrating the defeat of the Turks.

Onward to Santorini, where we visited Doug's old haunts in Perissa
Beach. Doug got mysteriously ill (traveller's trots), but did manage
to go with the family to Oua (ee-ah). The cliffs as usual were
stunning, and we got a really good deal on our hotel room in Perissa
because some places were already shutting down for the season.

We celebrated Becca's birthday with a nice fish dinner in a taverna on
the beach. Then on we went to Naxos saying goodbye to Becca's parents
who went off to Paros (neighboring island).

From Naxos we went to Samos a day later. Naxos was an interesting
island, which we were forced to stay on for a day and two nights
waiting for the Saturday (2-3 times a week) ferry to Samos. Naxos has
a great natural harbor with the ruins of an unfinished temple of
Apollo, which looks more like a concrete doorway than a temple. At
sunset, it's mobbed with people, and looks more like Stonehenge at the
summer solstice.  There's also an interesting maze of narrow streets
leading up a hill to the Kastro (!), which is a Byzantine castle which
was the home of the Roman Catholic Venetian rulers during the period
of Venitian rule.

From Naxos, we went to Samos by night ferry. The most notable thing
was the strange character next to us on the top deck of the ferry who
spent the evening rocking back and forth, smoking from a small bong,
and listening to CD's.

Then from Samos to Kusadassi Turkey. In Kussadasi we paid $45 USD each
for a Turkish Visa (recently raised from $20), and about  $48 in port
taxes (2 persons Greek and Turkish total!) Turkey may be cheap , but
entering from Greece is anything but!

We went with a hotel tout offering us a ride and stayed overnight in
Selçuk (Seljuk), saw Ephesus the next day. The free ride included a
trip to the carpet shop. We didn't buy anything, probably more to the
persistent sales techniques than anything.

From there we went to Pammukale to see the tavertines (a big
disappointment since you can no longer walk in the pools of water). We
did see the awesome ruins at Aphrodisias, about 2 hours from there by
bus.

From Pamukale, we took a mini bus ride (6 hours) to Anatalya where we
took a cruise on a yacht (more of a converted wooden fishing boat) to
celebrate Becca's birthday and to escape the noise and the carpet
dealers in the old town.

That night we took a bus to Capadocia. The bus was large and
relatively comfortable, but it was impossible to sleep because of the
constant drone of Turkish music (akin to a dying cat in heat, with an
out-of-tune tune zither), and the fact that we left our neck pillows
in the big backpacks under the bus. At 5:00 AM (while finally dozing
off) we were tapped on the shoulder and told "Goreme". We got off the
bus and looked around. Another freeway ramp in the middle of nowhere.
On a hill a hundred yards away there was a concrete building with a
few busses which we staggered toward.  When we  got there, we realized
that we were NOT in Goereme, but were 15 Km down the road in Nevishir.
After waiting for an hour, a mini-bus (dolmus) began to load, heading
for Goreme. We followed some Australians onto the bus. Finally we did
make it to Göreme. They threw off our packs in Goreme. The Aussie
guy's pack landed in some dog diarrhea on the side of the road. We
were luckier. Becca only stepped in it. Our packs were dusty but
otherwise OK. We then staggered into town as the roosters crowed and
the sun rose over what looks for all the world like Bedrock.

Göereme is probably the most interesting place we've been to yet, and
cant do it justice in this letter. The place looks like a valley full
of conical tufa rocks that were (and still are) inhabited for
centuries. They were built by Christians in the 12th century.

We slept in the first morning, and went for a walk around town, and
climbed up a hill, and explored deserted cave dwellings.

The next day we took a tour of the area with the Flintstones travel
agency (a friendly, well organized Australian/Turkish enterprise). On
the tour, we made new friends, and explored underground cities, toured
Byzantine churches carved in the walls of a canyon, hiked through the
Ilhara Gorge, saw the place where parts of Star Wars (Selime) was
filmed, went to one of the Caravanserai (camel stops) on the old Silk
Road, and watched the sun set over the fairy chimneys (strange phallic
shaped rocks, composed of volcanic pummice eroded by time).

The following 2 days were spent relaxing and making friends around
Goereme. We went hiking both days. The first day we went with 2 other
Americans (Ken and Ira) an Australian and New Zealand women (Karen and
Nicole), and found some old abandoned churches carved into the rocks
in the Goreme valley. The strangest moment was when we thought we were
lost in a remote part of the canyon and saw some signs which read
"cold drinks". Following the signs we eventually found an old Turkish
man who was running what may be the most hard to find souvenir shop in
Cappadocia, in one of the abandoned cave dwellings near one of the
churches. He was charging an admission, so we skipped the church but
did buy a coke and a bottle of water. We looked at his map and
exchanged pleasantries in German! The next day we visited a Citadel in
Uchisar, the highest point in the area, which supposedly has escape
tunnels going for hundreds of meters down to the valley floor. We
tried to hike the path from Uchisar to Goreme, but found there was a
washed out section along a cliff that our insurance providers would
not cover. A German couple who were also trying to find a hiking route
down the canyon gave us a ride back to Goreme.  Those German lessons
back in college sure come in handy. Fortuantely, the German people
also spoke fluent English, but at least I could say "Wie Geht es
Ihnen?"

We spent a few nights drinking and playing backgammon in the Aussie
run bars, and watched the movie
"Jackie Brown" from a bootleg tape.

We finally left Goreme on Monday (28th) and headed straight for
Istanbul on the night bus. This time the bus was much nicer and we
remembered our neck pillows. The bus left later, so it didn't arrive
at the Istanbul Ottogar (bus station) until 7:30 AM. We made even more
friends (Grant and Teresa), who live in London but come from Australia
and New Zealand.  This theme is very common.

A loose coalition of international backpackers formed as we got off
the bus and were offered expensive cab rides into town.  Becca having
read the Rough Guide, was up on the transit details for getting into
town cheap. We all took the Metro (fast, modern, and cheap) into town
as far as you can go, to Aksaray. We tried to take the tram from the
Aksaray station to the Sultanhamet (Blue Mosque) area, but ended up
walking about 2Km because the trams were so overcrowded.

We stayed in the Sultan Hostel, which can be described as a run down
hotel with very basic rooms, but hot showers, plenty of water
pressure, friendly staff, and good French toast for breakfast (a
welcome change from the standard Turkish breakfast), all for 4.5
million a night ($16). You can see the minarets of the Blue Mosque
from the breakfast room, or the rooftop bar. The area around the Blue
Mosque is the main tourist area. New hotels are replacing some of the
older dilapidated places we know and love. The "Four Seasons" is only
a block from us, but is in a different planet in terms of costs. The
carpet salesmen think we have money, which is a real annoyance.

Besides the Blue Mosque (beautiful from the outside, and also nice
blue and white tiles on the inside), there is the Aya Sophia, which
was begun around 537 AD by the Roman Emperor Justinian. It was changed
into a Mosque during the Ottoman Empire, and much of the interior
(gilded mosaics) were covered by plaster and non-figurative geometric
and natural Islamic frescos.
It must have been incredible as a Christian church, because it's
really really big. For almost 1000 years it was the largest church in
the world and the center of Christianity. (until about 1500 ?). The
other sights around here are the fantastic Topokai Palace, which was
the home of the Sultans for first 360 years of Ottoman Rule. Today
it's open to the public, and it's possible to see the bedrooms of the
Harem, where about 600 or so people lived (mostly the wives and
families of the Sultan). Yesterday we also visited the Turkish and
Islamic Arts museum and the "Covered Bazaar" -the worlds oldest
shopping mall.

Tonight we're on the 7:15 Egypt Air flight from Istanbul to Cairo.  We
called a hotel in Cairo to make a reservation. The hotel has doubled
the price listed in the lonely planet. We're hoping they are holding
the reservation, but might have to scramble to find a cheaper hotel
later.

So that's about it! We're both healthy and in good spirits, looking
forward to seeing the Pyramids tomorrow!

Cheers and Best Regards to all!

Doug and Becca
Istanbul, Turkey
 
 
 
 
 

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Fri, 16 Oct 1998 04:49:15 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Greetings from E-Gypt
     To:
        jenatkins@yahoo.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

Greetings First World Inhabitants. We are switching formats to briefer
and hopefully better one. The main reason is time (= money at these
Internet Cafe's).

We last wrote from Istanbul (not Constantinople), two weeks ago. We
are about to leave Egypt (YEAH!!!) after two weeks.

Highlights:

* Pyramids in Giza and Saqqara.  The Pyramids at Saqqara is one of the
first successful Pyramids. It's a step pyramid, which looks more like
a Mayan Pyramid.
The Giza Pyramids are more famous, but there are many many more people
there (both tourists and screaming souvenier vendors).

* The Sphinx in Giza.  They just finished a 10 year conservation
effort, and the results are that it still looks ruined, but it's good
for another hundred years!

*  Luxor Temple. This temple has some really nice pillars, large
'pylons', and carvings galore. The front entrance is a road lined with
human headed sphinxes.

* Karnac Temple. This temple will blow you away!  I think this is
where the shootings (known here as the 'accident') happened. Actually
this is the most impressive "temple" (as opposed to "tomb"). It has a
road lined with ram-headed sphinxes that runs back to Luxor (about 2K
away).

* Valley of the Queens/Kings. We took a mini-bus tour of these areas,
which was probably the best way to see it. We had a tour guide who
explained quite a bit and quized our meager knowledge of Egyptian
Mythology. Because we read up ahead of time, Becca and I were the
pesky people asking all the questions (you can imagine how bored
everyone else was getting). The fresco's were still colorful after  3
or so milleniums, which is more than you can say about the relatively
newer Greek and Roman ruins.

* Snorkeling on the Red Sea. We took a bus ride to Hurghada, which is
where we are now. We saw some beautiful fish and relaxed !!!

Lowlights:

* Getting Pharaohs Revenge (violently ill) in Aswan after eating a
fallafel from a street vendors stand. (We think it was the
Cucumbers!).  We recovered on the Nile cruise boat which was more like
a hospital ship for us.

* Cairo.  Just walking down the street is like sticking your head six
inches from the exhaust pipe of an AC Transit Bus while viewing 2 week
old garbage behind a meat market crawling with flies.

* Tout's, Travel Agents, Hustlers and assorted low life. Not enough
time to even start on this category.
 

Regards to all,

Doug and Becca
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
Date:
        Fri, 16 Oct 1998 04:49:15 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Greetings from E-Gypt
     To:
        jenatkins@yahoo.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

Greetings First World Inhabitants. We are switching formats to briefer
and hopefully better one. The main reason is time (= money at these
Internet Cafe's).

We last wrote from Istanbul (not Constantinople), two weeks ago. We
are about to leave Egypt (YEAH!!!) after two weeks.

Highlights:

* Pyramids in Giza and Saqqara.  The Pyramids at Saqqara is one of the
first successful Pyramids. It's a step pyramid, which looks more like
a Mayan Pyramid.
The Giza Pyramids are more famous, but there are many many more people
there (both tourists and screaming souvenier vendors).

* The Sphinx in Giza.  They just finished a 10 year conservation
effort, and the results are that it still looks ruined, but it's good
for another hundred years!

*  Luxor Temple. This temple has some really nice pillars, large
'pylons', and carvings galore. The front entrance is a road lined with
human headed sphinxes.

* Karnac Temple. This temple will blow you away!  I think this is
where the shootings (known here as the 'accident') happened. Actually
this is the most impressive "temple" (as opposed to "tomb"). It has a
road lined with ram-headed sphinxes that runs back to Luxor (about 2K
away).

* Valley of the Queens/Kings. We took a mini-bus tour of these areas,
which was probably the best way to see it. We had a tour guide who
explained quite a bit and quized our meager knowledge of Egyptian
Mythology. Because we read up ahead of time, Becca and I were the
pesky people asking all the questions (you can imagine how bored
everyone else was getting). The fresco's were still colorful after  3
or so milleniums, which is more than you can say about the relatively
newer Greek and Roman ruins.

* Snorkeling on the Red Sea. We took a bus ride to Hurghada, which is
where we are now. We saw some beautiful fish and relaxed !!!

Lowlights:

* Getting Pharaohs Revenge (violently ill) in Aswan after eating a
fallafel from a street vendors stand. (We think it was the
Cucumbers!).  We recovered on the Nile cruise boat which was more like
a hospital ship for us.

* Cairo.  Just walking down the street is like sticking your head six
inches from the exhaust pipe of an AC Transit Bus while viewing 2 week
old garbage behind a meat market crawling with flies.

* Tout's, Travel Agents, Hustlers and assorted low life. Not enough
time to even start on this category.
 

Regards to all,

Doug and Becca
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
Date:
        Fri, 6 Nov 1998 08:36:03 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in India
 
 

We just finished 3 and a half weeks of traveling through India. Our
basic air route began in Bombay, then led to Delhi and finally to
Varanasi. In Bombay and Delhi, we took extensive and circuitous side
trips to some far away places, and famous sites including the Ellora
and Ajanta Temple Caves near Aurangabad- a day from Bombay, the Taj
Mahal and other Mughal monuments, forts and palaces in Rajastan, and
the Holy Ghats of Varanasi.

It is extremely difficult to compare experiences about traveling at
this point because we've been on the road for 5 plus months, and might
seem a bit jaded about things. On the other hand, India proved to be
just as difficult to travel through as Egypt, but for altogether
different reasons. That being said, let us begin by saying that it's
not easy to write in glowing adjectives about a country like India
that is so impoverished and bureaucratically inept, and which is
lacking in modern hygiene.

India is incredibly decrepit, dirty, smelly, full of disfigured and
deformed people in need of medical attention, and struggling with
diseases like polio and smallpox still.  And we don't have enough time
to broach the subject of pollution.

And on the positive side, India is a highly spiritual place, which is
only natural given how difficult reality is. This may explain why
Hindu's believe that all reality is but an illusion. Another positive
aspect of India is the friendliness of the people (excluding taxi and
rickshaw drivers and of course the evil travel agents).

There are incredible remain from civilizations that were flourishing
around 200 BC, up to the Mughal empires of the 16 to 18th Centuries,
and of course the British in the 19th and 20th Centuries who left the
legacy of the largest railway system in Asia, and 2nd largest in the
world.  Unfortunately, its all falling apart with very little
restoration or even basic maintenance being done.

Highlights
-----------
* Ellora Caves near Aurangabad . Simply Amazing hand carved temples.
Some are merely caves that have intricate columns, carvings,
(Buddhist, Hindu, and Jain ) Some are actual complexes of buildings,
shrines, statues and temples that were carved out of single solid
volcanic basalt rock.

* Ajanta Caves (further north). Very nice caves (more than 32 of them)
with Buddhist Fresco's. The perspectives (3-D) and quality of painting
predate any similar techniques that were later found in Europe in the
Rennaissance.

* Udaipur - A relatively relaxing and scenic town on a series of
lakes, with lake palaces built on islands that appear to be floating
on the water. The town was used as a backdrop for a really bad Roger
Moore (Bond, James Bond) flick, Octapussy. Rent if you're interested
in the scenery. (I wonder how Roger Moore managed to not step in the
cow pies that  completely cover the streets, or not run into a sacred
cow or two)

* The first full moon festival in Varnasi (forgot the name) which is
celebrated by lighting thousands of butter lamps on the Ghats (bathing
stairs) that line the holy river Ganga (Ganges).  Somehow the butter
lamps are also floated on the river, sometimes in long strings that
span the width of the river.

Lowlights and Disappointments
-----------------------------

* Limbless Beggars on skateboards in the middle of busy traffic

* 10 year old girls with nearly dead babies in their arms begging for
rupees outside the Taj Mahal Hotel (the epitome of Indian oppulence,
surrounded by the poorest of the poor).

* Feces everywhere: Cow, Human, Dogs, Monkey and Elephant.

* Very rundown stinky hotel rooms, being rented in large polluted
cities for 3-4 times the cost in a smaller less polluted place.

* Ancient, overcrowded, dirty, "luxury" busses, which pick up
passengers until there is no more space for people to stand up.

* Not being able to walk down the street without being constantly
followed, harassed, and stared at.

* Indian people coming up to us and asking to have a photo taken with
us to the point where you were unable to look at the sight you had
traveled hundreds of miles to see. (something about blondes). We think
that they might think of us as an oddity. Although we may be odd, we
got tired of all the attention.

* Travel agents who hand over your credit card to a guy who runs out
the door to another guy on a motorcycle, who then runs off to a "bank"
to make an impression of the card. Meanwhile, you have to either
"trust" that they made only one impression, or cancel your card.

Well that's probably enough. You get the drift.

Where are we now? Kathmandu Nepal, preparing to leave for Pokhara
tomorrow to being our Annapurna Circuit Trek (possibly including part
of the Annapurna Sanctuary on the end).

Kathmandu is like a breath of fresh air. (Although it too is
polluted). The streets look as clean as a hospital after Varanasi, and
you can buy just about anything you need, including hot cinnamon rolls!

We registered with the American Embassy in Nepal in case of need for a
Medical Evacuation (proof of evacuation insurance, or sufficient money
$5,000 min is required, or else you have to die on a glacier.) So if
anyone asks you to post money for us, please do. We'll pay you back.

Our next dispatch will probably be in 3-4 weeks after the trek and
before we fly to Thailand (around December 4th). We'll probably be
having Dahl Baht (rice and lentils) for Thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving to All and to all a good night!

Doug and Becca
 
 

Hi there!  Were in Bangkok right now where internet time is cheaper
and response time is faster!

Sorry for the long mailing list. We are having really wierd problems
with our postcard mailing list.  Hopefully this will work for the time
being.

Doug and Becca

----------------
 

When first arriving from India, Nepal seems to be a cleaner, oddly
more modern place than anywhere we had been to in India. Nepal had the
advantage of being familiar because Doug had been here before back in
1996, the year of the freak avalanches that killed hundreds of
tourists.  That year, Doug was finishing the final 3 weeks of his
5-year sabbatical (6 weeks off), and did do some trekking, as well as
whitewater rafting.  This time we had almost a month allocated for
trekking, resting and enjoying the ambiance of Katmandu and Pokhara.

This time we arrived with more and better antibiotics.

At the airport, we waited  through the half-hour line to get the
Nepali visas (30 day), which had to be paid in US dollars. We had some
spare greenbacks, so that wasn't a problem. However, it was a problem
for many of the other foreigners who didn't realize that the US dollar
is the unofficial currency of  most of the world. We had arrived in
Nepal with quite a bit of Indian currency. The guidebooks don't
mention it, but it's very difficult to change Indian currency back
into dollars before leaving.  I had gone to the foreign currency
exchange in Varanasi, where the bank employee laughed when I asked him
how to get rupees into dollars.  " In Katmandu maybe", I was told.
Fearing the worst, I went to the currency exchange window near the
customs office.  He told me that although I couldn't exchange them
there (at the bank) I could get 1.6 Nepalese Rupees per Indian Rupee
"Anywhere".  Fortunately, a black market still exists in Katmandu for
Indian currency. In the past we had gotten stuck with 3.1 million
Turkish Lira (or roughly 8 bucks, US), and we were determined to not
let this happen again!

Getting through customs in Katmandu is easy:  so is getting the
tourist visa at the Airport. (Getting it in advance in places like
Bangkok is a big mistake). The hard part is getting from the Airport
terminal through a pack of 50 or so screaming hotel touts. We finally
just picked a cab, and kept on repeating the general area that we
wished to be taken to (Thermal). Right after we were loaded up, a
hotel tout said a few words to the taxi driver and jumped in the front
seat. I can confidently say that it is impossible to not deal with
hotel touts when arriving on an International flight. Our hotel tout
seemed to be friendlier and almost timid compared to the annoying
types in India. We tolerated his pitch, and almost went for the hotel.

It was a new hotel in the middle of Thamel. But it did not pass
Becca's hot shower test. And it was $10 a night, which seemed like too
much.  Doug ran down the street to one of the cheap hotels mentioned
in "Let's Go" and "The Lonely Planet": 'Hotel The Earth'. The owners
seemed sincere and although the place was old, it was clean, had
towels, toilet paper, and soap. These little touches make all the
difference.

Katmandu used to be synonymous with mysterious far off adventures and
exotic travel. Although most ofKatmandu is as old and poor as ever,
the backpacker ghetto, Thamel, is a cross between Telegraph Avenue in
Berkeley (complete with begggars and neo-hippies), and  a sporting
goods store. In addition there are some quaint touches such as stores
that sell grotesque wooden masks, Tibettan paintings called "thankas",
and people playing screechy strangely tuned miniature violins (for
sale of course). Everywhere, Nepali guys were walking up to us asking
us if we wanted to buy things like Tiger Balm (Chinese Ben Gay),
hashish/dope, changing money, miniature chess and backgammon sets,
Buddha statues, and 10 inch Ghorka Army knives. Still it appeared calm
and sane compared to the scene in Varanasi.

One of the first things we did was to get our "Immigration" and
trekking permits in order. In the past, this was a fairly
straightforward matter, because the Immigration office was located
right in Thamel. However, a few weeks earlier it was moved to a
location clear across town, 45 minutes by cab away. Not knowing the
location of the office, its relative distance, or the taxi rates made
it difficult to decide between the taxi's offer to take us there for
100 rupees, or to "run the meter". We had read in
our guidebook that the metered rates were lower, so we went for the
meter. Actually there was a fourth variable: how the meter is
calibrated.  What should have been a 50-rupee ride turned into a
140-rupee ride. Still we got to the office OK, by 10:30 (near opening
time). There were huge lines when we arrived due to the multitude of
people who also wanted to get a jump on the process. We waiting on
line and filled in the paperwork with hundreds of other young
westerners, and had to leave the office at noon - and return around
3:00 PM! Realizing this was a waste of 3 hours, we pooled taxi rides
with other people and went back to Thamel to shop, and eat lunch.

We finally did get our permits, but having realized how inconvenient
the "new" location was we seriously questioned whether the taxi-cartel
had maneuvered the relocation. In the future, we will no doubt take
care of all this paperwork nonsense from Pokhara (for Anapurna Area
Treks).
 

After settling in, we started to procure the things we would need for
"the trek": Warm hats and gloves,  hiking shoes (ours were at home,
thankfully until now). We had our sleeping bags, which were a godsend
in India and Nepal. We were agonizing over whether to buy any of the
cheap (and cheaply made) Nepalese knock-off  Polar-Tec type fleece
jackets, or even a down jacket. We looked into renting instead of
buying, but couldn't find many shops in the rental business.  We put
off decisions related to warm jackets and instead focussed on more
important matters: our feet. We needed some cheap and durable shoes,
and finally found them in a camping shop. We bought some "High-Tec"
shoes for about $35 a pair. "We can always sell them back" we
rationalized. Although this would have been an outrageously good value
at home, it was probably 20% more than what we really needed to pay.

However, we didn't even haggle with the guys because they were so
helpful and eager to please.

The next day we were off for Pokhara on another "luxury" bus.  By
Indian standards, this was luxury because there was only one person
per seat. The road to Pokhara is beautiful, but bumpy, and very, very
twisty in sections. This is not the kind of bus ride for people who
get carsick. After about 2 hours we had our first of three break
stops. These stops were all at highway restaurants (some of them
pretty good). The restrooms are a different matter. Most of these
places use the traditional out-house style. In rural Nepal an outhouse
is a relatively modern convenience. The smell could kill an Elephant
at 50 paces. (My advice is to always eat and drink before using the
restrooms.)

In Pokhara we stayed at "Hotel Paradise", which was off the main road
in "Lakeside", and seemed to be a good value at 250 rupees a night
($4).   However, we soon discovered that the local dogs, who sleep in
the middle of the road all day, wake up at night to begin their
nightly bark-a-thon.  My personal theory is that the dogs are the
in-bred descendents of shepherd dogs, whose purpose was to keep the
wolves and other predators at bay all night. Thus they were bred to
bark all night.  During the day they are fairly useless, but they are
much healthier looking than their Indian counter-parts.  Lakeside in
Pokhara is a more relaxed version of Thamel (Kathmandu). You can buy
practically anything there for your trek or rafting trip, including
film, batteries, chewing gum,
M&M's, CD's, new and used books, backpacks, walking sticks, fleece
jackets and pants, long-johns.   Most of this stuff you can also buy
at any point on the trek, which makes it almost foolproof, unless you
forget to bring enough money. The main danger is in packing too much
for a trek, not too little. That night after shopping until we were
tired and cranky, we went back to our room and separated out the
"trek" stuff from the "non-trek" stuff. Since we both filtered out our
own stuff, neither of us had any idea what the other one was really
carrying.  This would later be a sticky point, since we should have
each looked into each other's packs and asked "what the hell do we
need the 15 lb's of reading materials
for?

The next day we headed back to Dumre (about 2 hours back east on the
main road to Kathmadu).  If we had really read the guidebook, we
wouldn't have stopped in Pokhara at all. We would have left baggage
back in Kathmandu, and simply jumped off in Dumre. From Dumre there
are (hourly or less frequent) busses to the beginning point of the
trek: Besi Sahar. On the bus we met Alan Benn and Guy Jarvis, two
Englishmen , whom we ended up travelling with and getting to know
quite well before the end of the trip.

In the interest of keeping this short, we wont go into the gory
details of  each day of the Anapurna Circuit Trek. Instead we'll just
cover the following highlights:

· The part before the pass
· The Thorung-La Pass (5450 meters)
· The part after the pass.

Before the pass, most of the trail was fairly nice, a bit rugged, and
for the most part, up hill. Although we were far from fit on the first
day out, we kept up with the Lonely Planet Trekking Guide itinerary
all the way to the pass.   Although we weren't the fastest trekkers
out there, we felt that we were keeping up. Along the way Doug would
stop frequently to take photo's of the magnificent waterfalls,
snowcapped peaks off in the distance and the occasional mule train
passing us. As the pass got closer (after about day 5), we were
getting to our Acclimatization Day in Manning.  Instead of going the
extra mile or so into Manning we stayed in a newer lodge in Bragga
called the Hotel Buddha.  Braga was a nice place to visit because it's
incredibly beautiful, scenic, and also has a beautiful Gonpa
(monastery) and Tibettan Buddhist Temple.
 
The next day we walked into Mannang to look for a bank. Unfortunately
there are no banks in Mannang, which had been described as quite the
trading post by the trekking guidebook.  We asked a little old man in
the street if he knew of a place to change money. Within minutes he
led us to his house, which was up a ladder, on top of another
building.  There he produced a "fanny pack" full of all kinds of
money.  He didn't take American Express Travelers checks, however, so
instead we used a read US $100 bill.  If we had calculated the cost of
food  better on this trek, we might not have needed to change money
quite so often. Nepal is getting expensive.  Food costs on the trek go
up with the altitude, and before long we were getting into the $25/day
range. ($50 if you use internet!)  We had seriously underestimated the
costs. Still it was cheap.

After the 3500-meter altitude range, a persons body begins to react to
the altitude. Headaches, vomiting, coughing,  and waking up gasping
for air are typical symptoms.   Small groups of disappointed trekkers
went by us going downhill, saying the altitude had done them in.  We
started to worry that we wouldn't  make the pass.  We remained
skeptical, while others around us were far more positive that there
would be no problems.  At the "bottom" of the pass, the
"Thorung-Phedi" Lodge was, until recently, the  highest lodge on the
Anapurna Circuit.  Nowadays, for the truly insane, there is one lodge
that's even higher, the "Thorung La High Camp." We stayed in "Phedi",
and tried to remain optimistic. That night it started to snow.
Fortunately, by morning it had cleared somewhat, and the path was
clearly visible, since most of the snow melted on contact.  We shared
a room that night with an Australian couple, two teachers, Grant and
Michelle, whom we were almost able to keep up with for the next day or
two.  As we slogged up the hill, we went up for over 900 meters, and
suffered headaches later.  At the pass (5,416 meters, or 17,710 feet)
we celebrated by eating frozen Snickers bars, and taking photos near a
teahouse,  (yes there is a teahouse at the pass!). Near by was a
memorial to all the trekkers who died on the pass.  We thought that
the hard work was behind us. What little we knew. The trek down the
other side was over 1500 meters down. This was no ordinary hill on the
way down. It was steep and treacherous.  Becca in particular felt her
knees begin to buckle. We both were a bit weak after the climb. On top
of it all, blisters started to appear on our heels and toes for the
first time. We were not happy campers.  Grant and Michelle kindly
waited up for us as we struggled to go down. Although we were fast
climbers, we were the slowest of the slow on the way down.

The remaining parts of the trek were mainly resting and recuperating,
and taking our time. Our permit was for 21 days, and we wanted to
spend at least a day in Tatopani at the hot springs. The next day, on
the way from Muktinath to Kagbeni, it snowed and rained until the
trail turned to mud.  This day we should have stayed put.  We hardly
even saw the town of Kagbeni, and gave up on the idea of a hot shower,
since they are all solar water heaters up there. We had one night of
near Luxury in Jomson, where we got a room that had an attached bath,
with tub, and TV with CNN! All this for about 600 RS, (less than $10)!
Still we needed the extra pampering.  We also spent a freezing cold
night in Tukuche, in the quaint Tukuche Guest House, where Doug spent
a night on his previous trek. From Jomson on, we traveled with Alan
and Guy, who were also taking a more relaxed schedule.  Finally we
arrived in Tatopani and stayed in brand-new looking rooms (with
attached bath), in an orange grove behind the Dhulaghiri Lodge.  This
is the best room in the best place, in Tatopani, which is one of the
best towns. (This is in spite of the legendary sicknesses and
convalescences, which seem to take place there). We made friends with
the owner, ate and drank heavily, and soaked in the hot springs.  The
springs are currently working fine, but in September '98, a landslide
created a lake that nearly floods the lower pool.  Needless to say we
enjoyed the stay and were sad to leave. Instead of going out the "hard
way" over the Ghorepani Hill, we decided to take the flatter (and
probably just as long) route to Beni.  Alan went with us, and Guy went
over the Ghorepani Hill.

The route to Beni was not as flat, nor as smooth as expected. We put
in a hard 8 hours of trekking to get to Beni, then shared a cab all
the way back to Pokhara for 1600 RS. Back in Pokhara we celebrated
again. Doug wasn't feeling well from the time we left Tatopani, and
Guy started to look a bit pale by the second night in Pokhara.  Still
we were done! And Becca deserves extra credit since the longest
backpacking trip she had previously done was only 2 nights!

Right now we are back in Kathmandu, staying at the "Hotel The Earth",
and getting ready for the next leg of our trip: to Thailand.  We are
going to do a bit more touring around in the Kathmandu Valley. Doug is
still on the mend with some kind of intestinal flu very reminiscent of
his last trip to Nepal.  Becca is keeping busy by shopping and writing
postcards.
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Thu, 24 Dec 1998 07:18:28 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Holiday in Cambodia

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

Greetings from Bangkok (again).  We're at our home away from home, not
far from the infamous Ko Sahn Road.  A giant 3 inch cockroach just ran
across Becca's foot and somehow crawled under the terminal and up onto
the keyboard. I flicked it away and it FLEW...

We just got back this afternoon from Siem Reap Cambodia (Angkor).  We
did Angkor as a side trip from Bangkok instead of from Ho-Chi-Minh,
because we weren't quite sure about traveling through the heart of
darkness from Pnomh Penh to Siem Reap. All the other travelers raved
about Pnomh Penh, so next time we have to see more of Cambodia. Most
travellers liked Cambodia more than Vietnam, and highly recommended
Laos.

The land mines have all been cleared around the temples of Angkor, and
they are open for business in a big way. Hotels are being built all
over the place, and they may even have a sound and light show (sigh)
someday. The time to see it is now before it gets ruined by package
tourists.
 

Most of the temples look Hindu, but are actually a mixture of Hindu
and Buddhist religions. Today, the Wats at Angkor are Buddhist. The
temple that everyone has heard of (of course) is Angkor Wat. But the
more famous (visually) is the Bayon, which has dozens of towers with
smiling stone faces looking down at you. It's really hard to describe.
 
The best part about the temples at Angkor are the few temples that
have been left to the jungle. Some have giant kapok, "strangler", and
banyan trees growing over gateways with stone carvings. We had a
couple of mornings walking thourgh temples listening to the jungle
birds, crawling and climbing on fallen pillars, wals and statues
through a maze-like "lost city". Fun!

After we got back to Bangkok, we were greasy-sweaty zombies. The heat
and humidity (and lack of hot showers to wash hair and body) finally
got to us. After months of Becca complaining about wanting to cut her
hair, Doug finally relented, and did the job. Becca now has a
chin-length "bob" and looks like college student again.

So tonight is Christmas Eve.. Becca had an ice-cream sundae at the
airport to celebrate. Doug had a Whopper Value Meal (without cheese).
We're going up to our room to celebrate Christmas with a box of
Dunkin'Donuts "Munchkins", and some beer!

Happy Christmas to all, and God Bless us everyone!

- Doug and Becca
 
 
 
 
 

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
 

Date:
        Wed, 20 Jan 1999 22:34:01 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Vietnam, Part 1 (Saigon and the Mekong Delta)
 
 
 

We are writing from the City Hall Library in Hong Kong, where we found
the cheapest internet connection in the world (free!).  We'll update
you on the second part Hong Kong leg in a separate letter.

Here is an brief update on our travels in Vietnam:

Highlights
----------
* Saigon Pagodas and Museums
* Tour of the Mekong Delta

Lowlights
---------
* Revolutionary Museum
* Leaky Insect Repellent
 

Chronology
----------
Here is the really detailed story (as told by Doug):

* 12/25 Bangkok to Saigon
   We Arrived early at the Bangkok Airport, however Vietnam Airlines
had no signboard showing. Because we had changed our reservation over
the phone, we were instructed to show up three hours early to get our
tickets changed. We Arrived early at the Bangkok Airport, however
Vietnam Airlines had no signboard showing. When we went to their
office on the second floor (hard to find because you have to go via
the third floor, down a long corridor, and down a flight of stairs) it
was closed (no surprises there!). We were starting to wonder if
Vietnam Airlines was going out of business, or whether they really
existed at all.
 To kill time, we had another gourmet lunch at Burger King (Steak du
Cheval avec Fromage sauce, de Tomat en Pain)
 The Afternoon Flight to Ho Chi Minh City on Vietnam Airlines went
smoothly. The stewardesses looked very pretty in their Pink "Ao Dai"s
(native dresses of Vietnam which resemble silk pajamas). In two hours
time we landed in the People's Socialist Republic of Vietnam, one of
the few remaining Communist regimes in the world (China, Cuba, and
Berkeley California are the others).

 We had read dire warnings in the Lonely planet
on avoiding any sort of confrontation with "officials" who might
invalidate your visa for the slightest reason (like looking too
'American', or taking photos). One of the first things that I noticed
was that they were issuing Visas in the arrivals area (near customs),
for a mere US$25 for a single entry visa. Following the advice in the
Lonely Planet, we had already paid a travel agent US$65 for the same
thing in Bangkok, and had to wait 4 days for them to return. Once
again, the value of good information was impressed on us.
Unfortunately, guidebooks are rarely accurate on the subject of
rapidly developing nations.
 
 Coming up to the customs counter proved a bit confusing for us. We
were told (by the guidebook) to carefully declare all our possessions
so that when we left we wouldn't need to pay duties on them. So we
filled out the little form, and went to the "Items to Declare" counter
where 3 'Berkeley-esque' officials sat around chit-chatting to
themselves. After about 5 minutes of waiting (first in line), they
motioned us over to the much longer (five people in line) "Nothing to
Declare" queue. We told them again that we had items to declare, and
they told us again to move to the other line. Finally we did, feeling
very confused. When we got to the front of this line, the inspector
saw that we had items to declared, and motioned us to go to the "Items
to Declare" queue. "But we already did that. They told us to come over
here!" we exclaimed. So they let us through. We went past the line and
into an inside waiting area where we paused to read the guidebook for
more sage advice. On the other side of glass doors was a police line
and about 200 taxi drives, hotel touts, and miscellaneous "greeters"
with signs yelling at us.
  Just about then I noticed that my daypack was reeking of mosquito
repellent. "Oh no..." I thought, "My Jungle Juice sprung a leak." And
indeed it had. Not only that, but it was dissolving anything made of
rubber or  some types of plastic, including the inside lining of the
day pack, film containers, and our portable alarm clock.  I unloaded
the pack, and handed each item to Becca for emergency cleaning using
part of our immense stockpile of wet-wipes. After getting rid of some
of the goo, and repacking everything. We headed out.
 Utilizing the principle of "you can't pass through a crowd of touts
without choosing one first", we walked up to the first tout/taxi
driver. He said "What you want?" I said "Bank". He led us to the bank
where we exchanged 100 for 138,000 or so Vietnamese Dong. We asked the
taxi driver to take us to "Guesthouse 70" picked from the guidebook
for its proximity to the recommended Cafe/Travel Agencies. The cab
fare was $8, which we tried to negotiate down to $6, the guidebook's
recommended price. Finally due to the heat and our aggravated state,
we gave up on negotiations.
 On the way, he stopped at a supposedly cheap $11 hotel, which was
full. Finally he led us to Guesthouse 70, which was also full.
However, as we were waiting a nice girl from the neighboring hotel,
Guesthouse 72, came by and offered us a room with hot shower, fan and
double bed for $9. We took it. It turned out to be a great little
guesthouse, near the backpacker ghetto, around the corner from the
Cafe's.
 Saigon is a bustling place, full of people on motorcycles, bicycles,
and cyclos. The streets are jammed with stores selling everything from
snake wine, to silk clothing, to Vietnamese Army Uniforms, American
Army "dog-tags", flack jackets, and army boots.
 Cyclos are a sort of a backwards bicycle rickshaw. The rider sits in
front of the driver/peddler in a sort of a tilted back wheelchair.
They look kind of funny at first, but you get used to them quickly.
The driver uses the passenger as a sort of a shield to plow thorough a
sea of slowly moving motorcycles.  Although most intersections have
stop lights, there appears to be no real rules for changing lanes or
indicating turns. A ride in a cyclo is not to be missed, or an
experience forgotten easily. Most of the drivers are older men, many
whom are former South Vietnamese soldiers, or civilian employees of
the US Army from the war days. They've been blacklisted from holding
more responsible jobs, and have a hard life.

* 12/26 Saigon
 We bad our free breakfast at Guesthouse 72, and took our first cyclo
ride to the 'History' Museum, which is more of an Archaeology Museum.
The Cyclo drivers were delighted to get $1 each for their 15 minutes
of work.
 The museum was interesting, but took only 30 minutes to see. The more
interesting things were the Khmer statuary (removed by the French from
Angkor, the Cham sculptures, and a reproduction of a marble Buddha
called the 'Buddha of 1000 eyes and arms'.
  After the museum we walked to our first 'Pagoda' in Vietnam. A
pagoda is really a temple in Vietnam which may or may not have a tower
with multiple roofs (pagodas, as they are known in Nepal and China).
The first pagoda we walked to is known as the 'Jade Emporers Pagoda'.
In it were some very Chinese porcelain figures, many incense braziers,
and some beautiful hand carved wooden wall pieces. The temple, which
is part of small monastery consisted of many different rooms, and a
stairway which led to a roof-top patio overlooking the beautiful, but
decayed ceramic roof with dragons on the gables and eves. The roof
gave us a great view of the courtyard, which had a small turtle pond.
While we were gazing down on the pond, a kitten had fallen into the
pond, and was trying in vain to climb the slimy vertical concrete
wall. The size of the turtles in that pond, and the hungry look in
their eyes made for quite a scene. After a little crowd had gathered,
someone went and got a net (used for rounding up the turtles?), to
rescue the poor wet kitten. Finally the kitten got out and scrambled
to safety.
 We decided to walk to another pagoda, and walked past sidewalks full
of people sitting in Vietnamese Cafe's in child sized plastic patio
chairs, boys repairing motorcycles, people cooking soup, and hundreds
of parked motorcycles. It's almost impossible to walk down a sidewalk
in Vietnam, because every possible space is in use for something other
than walking.
 After getting lost twice and asking a non-English speaking guy for
directions (which were off by 180 degrees), we arrived at pagoda
number 2A: The Vinh Ngheim Pagoda - a 'real' pagoda, complete with a 8
story tower, built in 1971. It was very Japanese both inside and
outside the pagoda.  Guarding the doorway to the temple were some
great reliefs of the frightening temple guardians. Inside, there was a
huge golden Buddha, a large gong, and a huge drum. Behind the temple
were countless small shrines each dedicated to a dearly departed soul,
with containers for what we thought were their cremated remains. We
later learned that the Vietnamese bury their dead and don't cremate.
 After visiting the pagodas, we took another $1 Cyclo ride back to the
backpacker ghetto for a cheap dinner at the Sinh Cafe (contrary to the
advise of the Lonely Planet), which was cheaper and better than the
last cafe we ate at (Kim's).
 
* 12/29 Saigon
 To straighten out our airline itinerary, we paid visit to the various
airlines located at the legendary Continental Hotel. The Continental,
which has a nice lobby, and  great French columns, was the haunt of
many a Vietnam War era newsman and diplomat.
 We walked past the elegant French-built Hotel De Ville (City Hall),
and the boring (compared to the real thing) Notre Dame Cathedral. We
went first to what was billed by the guidebook as the "Museum of the
Revolution", which turned out to be a museum of physical and cultural
geography. Interesting but not worth the admission. The Huey
Helicopter and F5 fighter jet in the side yards of the neo-classical
French Colonial mansion were more interesting by comparison.
 After that we went to the former "Museum of American War Crimes", now
known as the "Museum of War Remnants", where we were reminded of the
horrors and atrocities which were committed in Vietnam. Of course the
propaganda was laid on pretty thick, but it was interesting, and made
us feel pretty guilty and sick for being born American.
 The interesting thing, was the almost complete lack of perspective of
the war as a "civil war", between North and South. Another interesting
thing is that they really don't acknowledge the role of the French in
Vietnam. Of course the French who took control of the entire area from
Cambodia to Vietnam, and ran a brutal colonial regime for 100 years,
really set the stage for the Americans and Russians to engage in a 10
year war much later.

* 12/27 Saigon to Cantho
 We started on a 2 day one night mini-bus tour of the Mekong Delta
which we had booked two nights before at "Kims Cafe". The tour guide
was a very chatty Vietnamese guy who had worked for the US Air Force
during the war. Nowadays he's blacklisted from 'important' jobs, so he
has to satisfy himself my giving the 'real history' of the war in the
Mekong Delta to tourists. (I wonder if the Vietnamese government
realizes that this might be contrary to their propaganda interests?)

 The trip mostly consisted of being driven in a Mini-bus with
absolutely no legroom along the busy roads south of Saigon, and a
series of rides in long-tailed boats up and down the canals of the
Mekong.

 One of the highlights were the trip to the 'secret' Viet Cong base
from which the war in the south was directed. The base was really a
handful of underground (and underwater) bunkers hidden in the swampy
bayou around the Rung Tram forest. During the war, Viet Cong
commanders who dressed and looked like the other villagers, directed
their attacks on the Americans (who stood out like sore thumbs),
driving their high powered boats around the spider-web of canals in
the Mekong Delta. Since most of the rice for the country including
Saigon came from this area, controlling the supply routes was
important for both sides. The American/South Vietnamese controlled it
during the day, and the Viet Cong controlled it by night.

 Another highlight of the tour was the boat rides past the smiling
village people, seeing their small bamboo houses and the women
paddling their canoes to the marketplace to buy and sell vegetables.
We got to walk around one of the villages, 'Binh Than', where the
children handed out flowers to ladies and followed us down the path,
over wooded bridges to a local straw mat making business, and another
local greenhouse.
 

 We spent the night in the city of Cantho, but really didn't get to
see much of it. We stayed in the usual 'institutional' hotel (cold
shower).
 

* 12/28  Canto to Saigon

 The last day was similar to the first day: lots of time on the boats
cruising the delta. More smiling waving villagers.

 On the boat ride we went to a floating market, where the vegetable
wholesalers park their ramshackle boats to sell their vegetables. They
hoist their vegetables up on a stick above the boats as a sign, so
that their goods can be identified from a distance.
 
 We passed a 'floating village' where the people live on houses built
on stilts in the river. They apparently raise fish in under the houses.

 We also visited a Rice-noodle "factory", which was really a
combination of a rice de-husking machine, a place where the broken
rice kernels were boiled down into a goo, and then cooked like crepes
on a griddle, and dried on flat bamboo sheets in the sun. The excess
slop was fed to the pigs who are kept within sight of the noodle
making process. We witnessed some of the unfortunate porkers tied to
poles, being loaded onto long-tail boats for their inevitable one-way
ride to the Saigon market.

 On the way back to Saigon, we stopped at a cafe that specializes in
raising snakes. The snakes are raised mostly for their meat,which gets
a good price, and also for the skin which can be made into wallets,
purses, etc. They happened to have an adolescent Python, about 9 feet
long, and 5 inches in diameter. We took turns putting it over our
necks and posing for pictures. Becca was probably the most relaxed
woman there, owing to her upbringing and previous snake handling
experiences. At the end of a long and bumpy ride we returned to Saigon.
 

To be continued ....
 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Thu, 21 Jan 1999 21:54:05 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Vietname (Part 2: Saigon to Hue)
 
 
 

We're back again with the second installment of Tin-Tin in Vietnam. We
left off with us finishing the fun and educational trip to the Mekong
Delta.
 In this installment, we take a one day trip to the Caodai Temple in
Tay Ninh, the Chu Chi Tunnels 40km outside of Saigon (Ho Chi Minh
City), and an "Open Tour" bus trip up the coast of Vietnam through the
central highlands area to Dalat, then out to the coast for some beach
action in Na Thrang, to Hoi An - an ancient and quaint trading town,
up to the ancient capital of Hue (near the DMZ) scene of major battles
in the '68 Tet Offensive as well as the tombs of the emporers. Finally
we travel to Hanoi, the beautiful French built capital and Ha Long Bay
with its 3000 or more majestic vertical limestone outcrop islands.
 We obviously have quite a bit to cover, so we'll try (harder) to be
brief.

High-lights
---------
* Caodai Temple
* Chu Chi Tunnels
* Cham Temples
* Cham Museum in Da Nang
* Hue and Hanoi Architecture
* Great food in Hue and Hanoi
* Ha Long Bay

Low-lights
--------
* Cold Rainy Weather in Dalat
* Cold Rainy Weather in Na Thrang
* Cold Rainy Weather in Hue
* Cold Rainy Weather in Hanoi
* Cold Rainy Weather in Ha Long

Chronology
----------

* 12/30 Saigon, Tay Ninh, Chu Chi
 We took a day trip by minibus (about $7 per person including
admissions and guide) booked through Kim's Cafe to unlikely
combination of the Caodai Temple in Tay Ninh and the former Viet
Cong's Chu Chi Tunnels.

  The Caodai (pronounced "Cow-Die") religion is enourmously popular in
Vietnam, and at one time included Graham Greene as one of its
followers. Their patron saint is Victor Hugo, whose likeness is found
in the temple. They regularly hold seances in which they conjure up
the spirits of Victor Hugo, William Shakespear, and others.

 The Caodai religion is noted for its beautifuly eclectic Euro-asian
architecture as well as its attempt to combine Buddhism, Confucianism,
Taoism, Hinduism, Native Vietnamese Spiritualism, Christianity and
Islam (not an easy undertaking).

 The Caodai  temple is quite a ways away from Saigon, in the Western
part of the southern "bulge" near the mountains that form the border
with Cambodia. However there are Caodai temples all over Southern
Vietnam, The Caodai headquarters is in the town of  Tay Hinh (96 Km
Northwest of Saigon.

 We were there, along with a throng of tourists in the balcony, for
the colorful noontime ceremony in which 60 or so worhippers wear
special dress: tall hats and color coded (yellow, blue, red, and
white) silk robes. The enter a huge temple from the rear, move to the
middle, kneel and bow to the east, pray out loud then sing some songs.
The music is a combination of gongs, chimes and chinese violins. The
religion was so powerful (and anti-communist) in the 1960's that they
had a large militia, which was eventually absorbed into the South
Vietnamese Army. After the fall of Saigon, they feared the worst, but
apparently have survived and are prospering.

 After our religious experience we boarded the bus for the Chu Chi
Tunnels. A short time later we unloaded from the bus, and went to the
re-education center to watch a vintage 1970's propaganda video. The
thing that impressed me was the low quality of the camera work and the
film, as well as the blatant choice of words: "running dog,
imperialists, American agressors, valiant comrades, struggle for
freedom, etc." After this education, we went across to the tunnels
where we learned about how the Viet Cong constructed various types of
low tech booby traps designed to maim and kill people at a minimum of
cost. Finally the main attration, the tunnels. The tunnels went for
over 200 km in the district of Chu Chi alone. At their height they
stretched from the Saigon to the Cambodian border. In fact, the US
Army built a major base right over a portion of the tunnels. At night
snipers would come out  of the tunnels and shoot the soldiers in their
beds. At first the US soldiers couldn't seem to locate the tunnels,
but when they did, they attempted to rout the Viet Cong using all
kinds of methods including "tunnel rats" (soldiers who patrolled
through the tunnel at great peril), dogs, and finally defolliants and
B52 carpet bombing. However it was too late: by this time the public
relations war was being lost at home in America, and the US was on the
way out.

 We crawled though a portion of the tunnel that's been enlarged so
that tourists can fit through. The original tunnels were very small
with a trap door opening that was only 10 by 14 inches. The tourist
entry is significantly larger.

 After the tour, we walked by a couple of pitiful animal cages with
monkeys and a rare Vietnamese Honey Bear. One the way back to the bus,
there is (of coursde) a souveigner stand which sells, among other
things, American dog tags, Vietnam Service medals (probably fake).
They are obviously going after the "morbid curiosity" market.

 *12-31 Saigon to Dalat

 We boarded a bus to Dalat, which is billed by the government as the
"Petite Paris" of Vietnam. This clain is made because it has a smaller
than life sized version of the Eiffel Tower, and a few French-style
maisons. However, anyone who comes to Dalat in search of anthing
remotely French will be disappointed (as we were).

 Dalat sits high in the hills in Central Vietnam. At one time, during
the war it had a training academy for both the South Vietnamese and
the North Vietnamese. Through some sort of bizzare truce, they
co-existed throughout the war!

 After we arrived and booked into our cheap hotel, we went to an
interesting night market the first night, and saw the "Eiffel Tower"
across an artificial lake. At night, it doesn't look so bad. We ate
with a fellow tourist we met from Indonesia. He was working in
Cambodia for an NGO (non-governmental organization)and was taking a
holiday.

 The following day we took a long walk through Dalat, past a huge golf
course , formerly owned by the "Last Emporer" Bo Dai. Currently the
course is being run by the Hanoi government in hopes of attracting
tourists with money. It looks like a nice course, but watch out for
the land mines in the bunkers around the 4th hole. After this we went
to the 'Flower Garden', which is a sort of a public park (nominal
admission), which has lots of concrete landscaping, a few flower beds,
some rusting kiddie rides, a Vietnamese cowboy on a pony for photos
with the kids, and at least 3 souvenier shops. This is considered to
be a good garden in Asia, but is terribly tacky and run down by any
other standards. After this we walked over to one of Dalat's more
famous attrations, the "Crazy Guest House", a concrete fantasy land
created by the architect daughter of the chairman of the Communist
party. The architecture is remniscent of Alice In Wonderland: some of
the rooms are built into giant tree-trunks with whimsical winding
staircases, grinning animals including room built to resemble a
giraffe that must be entered through its rear end.

 Following this, we walked past some lovely, but decrepit French
mansions and the Pastuer Institue, to the Lim Ti Niagoda (temple)
nearby. We met the caretaker of the temple, a little-old monk who
lives behind the temple in a bamboo hut. He makes a living selling his
artwork, which are hand painted pictures on rice paper, including a
poem, or haiku, which he creates spontaeneously. The paintings were
interesting, and very cheap ($2-3) We didn't buy one because we had no
way to keep it from being crushed.

 Finally we ventured up to the Emporer Bo Dai's Summer Palace, which
turned out to be a vintage 1936 modern house that could easily have
been from the Hollywood hills. Although we are not fans of modern
architecture, the spartan simplicity of the place, and the general
cleanliness was impressive. The exterior was in a state of benign
neglect. The paint was peeling, but the gardens were well maintained.
It felt strange to come all this way to see a house that could been
found in Oakland.
 As we left the weather, which had been turning cloudy, finally
decided to dampen our spirits with a fine drizzle remnicent of our
visit to Britain.

* 1/2 Dalat to Na Trang

 After a long bumpy, ans sometimes scary ride down a steep mountain
road, we stopped at remarkably well preserved Cham temple. The Chams
were the people of the ancient nation of Champa, which is now Vietnam.
The descendents of the ancient Chams, now an ethnic minority still
exist. Chams are basically Hindu's (like the early inhabitants of
Angkor in Cambodia). The temples look like Hindu temples in India, and
the towers of Angkor Wat.

 We finally stopped in the seaside town of Nha Trang, on the
Couth-Central coast. Although Nha Trang has a beautiful beach,
supposedly lovely islands, and normally a warm tropical climate, the
weather had taken a turn for the worse.

* 1/3 Nha Trang

 The wind was picking up, the clouds were turning from light to dark
grey, and it looked like rain.  We walked the length of the beach, and
were tempted to sit and watch the giant waves poundidng the beach.
After looking at the beach and taking a few black-and-white photos
(using color film), we continued across some bridges to a Cham temple,
which was being restored.  We really didn't like the town part of Nha
Trang at all, and were turned off by the beggars and Cyclo touts.

 If the weather had been better we would have stayed an extra night.
Instead we decided to head up to the next destination, Hoi An, the
following morning.

* 1/4  Nha Trang to Hoi An

 We checked out of our hotel extrememly early in order to be the first
people on the bus. We paid the hotel desk guy for 2 nights plus a
bottle of water, and sat for 45 minutes in the restaurant eating our
breakfast. Finally we got on the bus and left for another long
bumpy-scary ride to Hoi An. This time we sat up front behind the
driver and watched as countless "near miss" accidents unfolded in
front of the bus. Dogs, kids, bicyclists, and chickens seemed to
materialize inches in front of the window as the driver honked his
horn, taped the brakes and continued. The average speed of a bus trip
in Vietnam is 30 Km/h, due to the number of potholes in the road.

 Finally we arrived in Hoi An. As we arrived, a representative of the
bus/hotel syndicate asked to see us (by name) and claimed we only paid
for one night at the hotel. Although we might have been wrong, we felt
it might be a scam, and asked them to prove it before we paid. The man
got very angry and accused us of being dishonest, and stormed off. We
didn't pay, but wondered whether we had actually only paid for one
night (since it was so early), or were we being scammed? The hotel guy
didn't bother to get proof, so the matter was forgotten.  In
retrospect, we realized that its important to always get receipts for
hotels etc., to avoid this sort of scam.

* 1/5 Hoi An

 After spending the night in a sub-standard (for Vietnam) hotel with a
broken window, and no water pressure, we moved hotels to a better
hole-in-the wall place in the "old quarter".

 Hoi An is an interesting place, with crowded old streets, Chinese and
French architecture, a river-front, lots of tourist shops, tailors etc.

 We passed the time by wandering the streets, visiting the Pagodas
(nice, but there were admissions to some), and touring the old houses.
The food was excellent at a couple of the cafe's we tried out.

* 1/6 Hoi An, My Son

 We took a day trip to My Son, one of the major Cham sites in Vietnam.
It was billed as a city that was once equal in stature to Angkor.
However in reality it was really a small cluster of temples more like
Ayuthaya by comparison, without all the imaculate gardening. There
were some really nice temples,some a bit overgrown, with incredible
carvings, and a small museum inside of one of the temples.

 The My Son complex was used during the war by the Viet Cong as one of
their headquarters. The US forces heavilly bombed one of the main
temples, My Son A. Due to protests by a curator of a French Museum of
Archaelogy in Paris, Richard Nixon sigggned an order to General
Westmoreland to avoid any further damage to Cham temples or monuments.
Whether the Viet Cong used this to their advantage, we dont know.

 On the My Son day trip we met a really nice English couple, Stephen
and Alison,  who were on a their way home after spending 2 or 3 years
in Beijing (China). Although the weather was getting worse, we kept
our spirits high and had some great conversations on the bus. We made
plans to meet up in Hoi An, and later met them for happy hour at
Treats Bars ("Same Same, but Different").

* 1/7 Hoi An to Hue

 Another long bus ride on bad roads to Hue, with stops at various
beaches and one bone-chilling windy, wet high pass. We made a
memorable stop at "marble mountain" where we were once again assaulted
by a legion of touts and would-be-guides. The town's economy revolves
around making immense marble statues of Buddha and other dieties, and
the tourists coming to see the Pagoda's and cave temples in the
mountains. We had a 1 hour stop here.
 
 We didn't visit the marble mountain pagodas or caves. Instead we took
a walk to nearby "China Beach", named after the T.V. show. The actual
China Beach was the same stretch of sand, but much closer to Da Nang.
This is where GI's were sent for "R&R" during the war.
 
 In Da Nang, we stopped at the Cham museum for a half hour stop. The
museum has the finest Cham statuary in Vietnam and is worth a visit.
It only takes a half hour to see everything, however. We didn't
realize our "open tour" tickets had so many stops, and this one was a
really nice surprise.

 Finally we arrived in Hue, in time to take a walk through the west
bank (French) quarter to the old Citadel. We climbed up the tower of
one of the city gates, and took a few photos. When we walked to the
main gate, we bumped into Stephen and Alison, from Hoi An. (Small
world!) We made plans and met later for dinner.

* 1/9 Hue

 We took a $3 boat ride up the Perfume River to see the Pagodas and
Tombs of the Emporers. The weather was once again cold, windy, and
cloudy. Although the trip was chaaap the admissions to the tombs were
not. Our favorites were Tuc Doc's Tomb, and the Thien Mu Pagoda.

 Tuc Doc, was one of the more interesting characters of Vietnamese
history. He really knew how to live, and had an immense pleasure
palace build during his lifetime, which would double as a tomb in the
after life. He had 104 wives and countless concubines, but never
produced any offspring. Instead he adopted. Although he had a
magnificent masoleum built, he was not buried in his own tomb.
Instead, he had instructed his 200 servants bury him (and untold
treasure) in a tomb at a secret, and as-yet-undiscovered place. After
this all 200 of the servants were beheaded. All this took place less
than 150 years ago.

 The Thien Mu Pagoda is the "most famous" structure in Vietnam. It has
a 69 foot high tower which was rebuilt
and destroyed many times. The more interesting thing is the 1950's
Austin automobile in the garage behind the monastary that was used by
the monk Thich Quang Doc, to transport him to his 1963 self-imollation
protest. The car is behind him in the now famous photo.

 We had dinner back in Hue with Steve and Allison at a great
restaurant near the foot of the Trang Tien bridge, called the Paradise
Garden Restaurant. The red linen placemats had "Hotel d'la Indochine"
written on them. The food was delicious, and very cheap.
 

To Be Continued ...

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Fri, 22 Jan 1999 03:31:05 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Vietnam (Part 3: Hue to Hanoi)
 
 
 

Well, were on to part 3. Actually Part 2 was supposed to have been the
final part of the Vietnam story, but we got kicked off because we were
hogging the computer.

In this installment we'll chronical our trip from Hue to Hanoi and Ha
Long Bay.

* 1/10 Hue
 
 It rained heavily in Hue during the AM. There was not much to do
except sit in sidewalk cafe's fully bundled up, shivering. Hue is a
city that's built for warm weather. There are virtually no restaurants
or Caafe's which aren't open air. We must have hit Hue during some
sort of freak cold spell. The good part about the cold rainy weather
is that the beggars, street vendors, and touts also take a break. But
the cyclo guys are ready to go rain or shine...

 Some general impressions of Hue and a brief note on its history are
due: Hue is a lovely city, with a great deal of French architecture on
the West Bank side of the river. If we had better weather, we would
have loved to go walking around that area more.

 Our friends Stephen and Alison rented bicycles and had a great time
getting around on them (until Alison drove into a canal!).

 Since it was raining on our planned bike day, we took brief walks
between downpours to see the history museum. The history museum is in
a restored palace building - with interesting statues of Mandarins
(civil servants), cannons, bells etc in the courtyard. The inside of
the museum was kind of dark. In fact we finally noticed they had no
electricity. The lamps overhead were old kerosene type lamps. They do
have free flashlights (torches) for visitors to use.

 As I mentioned earlier, Hue has an interesting history even during
the Vietnam war, when it was briefly captured by the Viet Cong right
after the Tet Offensive. After three weeks of captivity the Viet Cong
had rounded up and executed over 3,000 citizens. Later the South
Vietnamese and American forces re-took the city in a brutal door to
door combat. in all, 10,000 people died including over 100 US marines.

 We left Hue by Train for Hanoi. The only seats we could get were
"hard berth" seats for the 16 hour night train. Luckily we ended up
sharing a compartment with two Canadians, who also were surprised by
the cold wet weather. The train was not heated, and the berths were
indeed hard. Somehow, having interesting people to chat with helped to
pass the time. By mid afternoon the next day we arrived in Hanoi.

* Hanoi 1/12
 
 Arriving by train, we disembarked at the Hanoi Train Station and were
approached by an official looking guy in a Vietnamese Army uniform. He
quickly reached into his left pocket and produced a Hotel business
card. After about three of these phony officials, we finally were
grabbed by a taxi driver who gave us a ride to our hotel. Of course we
had to make several trips past hotels where he would have gotten a
commission before he took us to the Red River Cafe where the hotel we
wanted was.

 We ended up staying across from the Red River Cafe at a mid-range
hotel called the "Fortuna Hotel" ($15 for a single with large bed,
Cable TV, hot showers, dubious heating). The idea is to stay close to
one of these travelers cafe's to make it easy to book tours, and to
have a reasonable restaurant for breakfasts and late dinners. We ended
up booking our tour from a different cafe (Sinh, because the prices
were much better).

* Hanoi 1/12

 After spending considerable time and effort trying to arrange for a
new pair of glasses for Doug (and giving up after realizing they
couldn't do it in the time-frame we had), we walked along a very
pretty lake to the "Ngoc Sun Temple", one of the symbols of Hanoi.
It's a beautiful Vietnamese pagoda (no tower) on an island with a long
curving red wooden bridge.

 After this we walked around Hanoi for a long time, first looking for
Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum (closed in the afternoon!) and later looking
for a bank. We didn't make it to any of these, but we did do quite a
bit of walking, and saw some beautiful French architecture along what
must have been Hanoi's "embassy row" (Tran Hung Dao Street). We
finally passed by the restored "Municipal Theater" (Opera), right next
door to the brand new Hanoi Hilton. This Hilton is definitely not the
same place as the prison nicknamed the 'Hanoi Hilton' during the war.

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Fri, 22 Jan 1999 21:51:07 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Vietnam (Part 4: Hanoi, Ha Long Bay to Hong Kong)
     To:
        jenatkins@home.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

Back again, after getting kicked off the computer once more. This time
we'll finish off Vietnam. ..

When we left off, we had arrived in Hanoi, and did a good deal of
walking around, exploring the town, eating and not much else. The
weather was incredibly cold (for Vietnam) with the high temperatures
at about 50 degrees Farenheit (13 C), cloudy, with occaisional
showers. :-(

* A short history lesson:

 We forgot to mention that the Municipal Theater, which is a
marvelously preserved piece of French architecture is probably so well
preserved, because it was the place where Ho Chi Minh declared the
"Republic" in 1945 following the removal of the Japanese.  The British
government was put in charge of Vietnam, but wanted out. The French
were determined to get back in. Because of the unpopularity of getting
involved in another colonial debacle, and the fact that they were
short on manpower, the British did a very strange thing: They used
Japanese and French prisoners among others as their policemen, which
caused a near revolt. After this, the French simply picked up where
they left off, and Uncle Ho resumed the fighting against the French!

* 12/13  Hanoi to Ha Long City
 
 The previous day we had booked a two day one night tour of Ha Long
Bay through one of the local cafe's (Sinh Cafe). Ha Long is the bay
that was used in the final scenes of the movie Indochine, which is
highly recommended. There are over 3000 islands, mostly small, cone
shaped limestone outcroppings that rise up vertically out of the sea,
providing a surreal area to tour by boat. Occasionally a junk sails by
(at least in the tourist literature).

 We got up at 5:30 AM and left our baggage at the Hotel Fortuna. The
stairwell was completely darkened, and the desk clerks were sleeping
in the foyer. Becca went first and asked one of the desk clerks "Could
you please turn on the lights? My husband is coming down the stairs
with the baggage and will probably fall". Too late. Doug stumbled down
the stairs nearly twisting and ankle. As the desk clerk guy ran up the
stairs (presumably to turn on the light) in the dark Doug called out
"Watch your step, its dark". We don't know for sure if the lights were
ever switched on or not.
 
 After a short walk to the Sinh Cafe, we bought a baugette from a
street vendor and boarded the Sinh Cafe bus near the lake. 4 hours of
tortuous bumpy bus ride later, we arrived on the tourist side of the
river near Ha Long Bay. The Vietnamese government is obviously dumping
a huge amount of money into creating a tourist resort town. There are
scores of restaurants and hotels, mostly empty.  They have recently
created a beach, complete with coconut palms, and imported sand. This
all seemed a bit incongruous, because of the cold, wet weather.

 After arriving at our hotel, we put our bags into our assigned room
(unheated of course), and scrounged around for extra blankets. After
this we went down to the restaurant for our "free" lunch. At first
there was a bowl of broth with bok-choi in it for each person.
Interesting. After 5 minutes or so, some rice in a small bowl
appeared. We assumed that this was the free lunch. We feasted on the
rice and soup, when the hotel lady appeared with big pots of all kinds
of Chinese foods, fried shrimp, and some kind of a seafood omlette.
The food was heaven.

 After lunch we were brought to the harbor where we boarded an old
wooden "tourist" boat for our boat ride across the bay, past the
fabled islands, to the Dau Go Grotto to see two caves. Although this
would have been boring on a sunny day, it was actually kind of
interesting. We disembarked on the island and walked up the stairs to
the first cave which was recently discovered (only 5 years ago!),
which has been cleaned and sanitized for tourism.

 The first cave, Drum Grotto has a concrete footpath, with hand rails,
electric signs which read "Help Keep Our Grotto Clean". The cave is
immense, and looks very artificial, and hygenically clean. Colored
electric lights make the stalagtites and columns look artificial - and
very appealing to tourists.

 The second cave is a real cave, "Dau Go Grotto", or the "Grotto of
the Wooden Stakes". This is where some wooden stakes were made and
stored in the 13th Century by a fierce warrior, Tran Hung Dao, who
sank them into the sea bottom of a shallow passage,  and used the
changing tide to sink the Kubli Kahn's invasion fleet. This
established one of the longest lasting dynasties of Vietnamese
history, the Trang Dynasty.
 
 We did some rock climbing inside the second cave, which in addition
to being a natural cave (complete with huge fruit bats, guano, and
graffiti), has no rules about where you can or cannot go. A good
flashlight is required if you have enough time to explore it.

 As the boat pulled out from the pier at the island it was obvious to
the passengers that we were about to collide with a much smaller boat.
 Suddenly boom, we collided. The stern of the boat (including the
rudder) had taken a hard blow. After floating around the bay for a few
minutes the tour guide informed us that we would have to return to the
hotel without going
to see more of the islands. Instead they would add an hour to the boat
ride the next day, when the weather would be better. This was fine
with us, as the weather had deteriorated, and it was raining again.

* 1/14 Ha Long Bay to Hanoi

 The next morning the we got up for an extended boat ride. There was
no sight of the colorful junks which we expected to see. The weather
was grey, cold, and threatening to rain.

 On the boat ride we amused ourselves by taking turns shutting the
door. The sliding wooden doors on the front of the passenger area did
not work properly, and most of the passengers didn't seem to care.
Left open, it would produce a bone-chilling draft, so we took it on
ourselves to be the official door closers.

 We sat and chatted with an Australian couple, Brad and Flo, whom we
had met at breakfast. Occasionally Doug would disappear to take more
black and white pictures (again, with colored film).

 The boat ride went on and on. Of course, if the weather had been
better, we would have been up on the deck the entire time. The islands
really are something to behold. And the sheer number and variety of
them is mind boggling. From a geological point of view, it's
interesting to consider that these islands are found along the coast
of the South China Sea all the way up to China. There are also areas
inland that look like this, except that the limestone rocks are
emerging from a flat landscape of rice paddies.  There are other
another area like this which we saw on a previous, on the western side
of the peninsula in Thailand, near Krabi.

 One of the more interesting things we did was to  stop by a floating
village, where fisher-people tried to sell live crabs (always a useful
thing to buy on a tour), corals, and various food items. They were
offering a one dollar ride to a submerged cave, but nobody on the boat
was interested. Instead we moved on and back to Ha Long City.

 On the way back to the boat dock, Becca spotted a junk off on the
horizon. It was too far away to be anything but a dust spot on a
photo, so we waited. After arriving on shore, Doug saw that it was
closer, but still not close enough. Finally, the bus arrived and we
all boarded. We sat in the seats in the far back of the bus. As the
bus began to pull out of the parking lot, the junk was getting close
to the pier and preparing to
come about. Doug raised the camera, and pointed it out the rear
window, fully zoomed. Just as the moment of truth came, the bus went
into a wooded area, blocking the view. "Oh well ... I guess we weren't
meant to have that photo" Doug whimpered dejectedly. "That's why we
keep buying postcards." remarked Becca. Still we did see a junk.. sort
of.

 On the ride back to Hanoi we passed through what we thought was part
of Hai Phong, past dozens of ceramic shops selling every size of blue
and white pot, plus ceramic replicas of German Shepherds and
Dalmatians. This doesn't seem so absurd, until you realize that there
are no German Shepherds or Dalmatians anywhere in Vietnam.

 There are plenty of dogs in Vietnam, but there are not many varieties
of dog. This relative lack of dogs has nothing to do with the fact
that there are over 70 restaurants (on one street) in Hanoi which
offer dog on the menu ... Its considered auspicious to eat dog in the
first month of the lunar new year, and extremely in-auspicious the
month before.

 Along the way we witnessed lots of road work underway, in the cold
rain, by workmen using hand tools, shovels, etc. One guy was laying
concrete below a bridge, and was wading in the wet cement up to his
knees - barefoot!

 Suddenly - "Bang" the rear left tire (nearest us) blew out. This had
happened once before in Greece. Fortunately, we didn't have any
pressing engagements back in Hanoi. The bus chose a very convenient
spot to break down: right in front of a gasoline station. We spent the
next hour watching the Vietnamese driver and tour guides fix the tire.
The spare looked a bit dodgey, with huge chunks of rubber missing from
it. For some reason it also needed to be inflated, and the gas station
had the air pump. Finally the spare was put on the bus and we were
back on our way to Hanoi, just in time to buy a few necessities
(cookies, mineral-water,cheap film), check the internet mail, grab a
Chinese beer, and book into our hotel.

 When we arrived at the hotel, we overheard an Australian woman trying
in vain to ask for an extra towel from the desk clerks. She kept on
asking: "Could I please have and extra To-wel'.  The desk clerks
nodded and repeated "Tal-row". Over and over this went on. Finally she
said "I want to take a Sho-wer". They smiled, nodded repeated
"Sho-wel".  Having been though this too many times before in to many
countries we just laughed and wondered whether she got her towel.

* 1/15 Hanoi to Hong Kong

 We got up early once more to meet the cab. Becca called the front
desk three times asking them to turn on the lights in the stairwell.
The third time she said very slowly and clearly: "We are coming down
now. We are going to PAY THE BILL. PLEASE turn ON the LIGHTS!!!".
Somehow the third time worked. Maybe it was the serious tone of her
voice which hinted "WE are going to STRANGLE you if you do not TURN ON
THE %$#%$# LIGHTS!!!"

 We took a cab to the airport, which we had pre-arranged the night
before. The travel agency had told us that the $10 included all tolls
on the way to the airport. However, that didn't deter the taxi driver
from attempting to get us to pay the 2 tolls on the way there.
 
 At the airport we met up again with Brad and Flo, from Perth, who
were on the same flight (to Hong Kong). We had coffee's and baugettes
with them and met their friend Melanie who was also going to Hong
Kong. We boarded the flight, exchanged addresses,  ate a delicious
airline meal, and landed in Hong Kong.

Well, that's all for now. We'll continue the story from the
Phillipeans, where we're headed on Monday. We're having a great time
in Hong Kong, staying at Dave and Vicki's pad in Discovery Bay. The
sun is out right now, so we have to be running!
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Sun, 24 Jan 1999 00:57:56 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Hong Kong
 
 
 

Hi again,

 I'm sure you are getting sick of these messages coming at you every
day. The main reason, of course is the free email from the library at
Hong Kong city hall! So this will be the last one for a while.

 While in Hong Kong, we've been staying with our friends Dave Beale
and Vickie Hackett who are working here. They have a really cool high
rise apartment at Discovery Bay on Lantau Island, which is a 30 minute
ferry ride from Central (Hong Kong Island)

 Hong Kong has a super-modern brand-spanking new airport, which was in
start contrast to the Hanoi Airport. It was like getting off a time
machine in the FUTURE... (gee).

 We picked up one of the white courtesy phones to make a free phone
call to Dave at his office. Free local calls are another nice feature
of Hong Kong. You can use the phones in any hotel lobby to call
locally for free as well.

 We took a double-decker bus from the Airport to Hong Kong Island
where we walked around for 15 minutes in search of a landmark. We
ended up dead center in Central near a monument which was dedicated to
the "Glorious Dead" from WWI and WWII.

Our first impressions of Hong Kong were mixed. I was impressed by the
sheer number of high rise apartments packed into narrow streets on the
Kowloon Peninsula, but kind of horrified by the population density.
Add to it the fact that the ones built in the 60's are looking a bit
worn around the elbows, a cloudy cold day, and you have a scene out of
1984. This impression was based on the bus ride. I wonder what people
must think of San Francisco on their way into town.

Downtown (Central) was a whole different world. It's every bit as
"high rise" as Manhattan, but has that hilly San Francisco thing going
on. There are some really beautiful and new skyscrapers, which really
boggle the mind, as well as indoor walkways interconnecting them. In
fact, if you know where they lead, you can avoid walking on the street
altogether. Inside the walkways are numerous shops and stores, which
are impressive in their sheer abundance. It seems like all Hong Kong
people are born to shop. However, the prices are at least as high as
those in the states (on most things). I ended up getting a new pair of
glasses (finally!), and new lenses for the old pair.

Dave met us and led us to a French style cafeteria, where we sat and
warmed up over hot chocolates and pastries. Dave went back to his
"Data Base Administrator" job while we waited for Vicki.
Vicki, who was getting off from her school teaching job, met us there
as well. Later we all headed to Discovery Bay on one of the sleek jet
powered Ferries.

Discovery Bay is really a world of its own. The improvement in boat
technology has led to satellite suburbs on islands that were formerly
too far from Hong Kong to be developed for housing. One company
developed the whole place, which is a combination of a ferry port, a
shopping area and public square, tennis courts, swimming and sailing
beach, golf course, and high rise and low rise housing. It's pretty
classy, and has a real "village" feel. Patrick McGoohan (Number 6)
would feel at home here.

 The next day, (Saturday) all four of us got up and took a 2 hour hike
over the top of a tall peak to Silver Mine Bay (Mui Wo) on Lantau
Island. We strolled through Mui Wo, a Chinese village, and stopped to
try some barbecued meat at a street stall, and hot chocolates at a
pub, before taking the ferry back to Discovery Bay.

Every day we got to sleep in, while Dave and Vicki (poor souls) got up
early to go to their high-stress jobs. The weather gradually improved,
but we had a week or so of grey skies. Each day we went in to Hong
Kong by ferry and explored. Of course, we also spent alot of time in
this library, when we weren't out pounding the pavement.

 We did manage to go up the tram to Victoria Peak on a relatively
clear day. The tram is like a San Francisco Cable Car, but larger,
more modern and safe feeling. The tram tilts on an angle that feels
like 45 degrees, and makes a few stops (while tilted) on the way up.

 The view from the peak is really magnificent, because its so close to
the high rise buildings of Central. After taking the obligatory photos
we walked around the peak on the jogging path, and took the number 15
double decker bus back down the hill, through the various
neighborhoods. This ride is another stomach wrenching white knuckle
bus ride - well worth it. We also bussed over to Aberdeen to see the
Sampans, fishing boats, and the other side of Hong Kong.

 One night we did a tour of the night markets on Kowloon including the
Temple Street market. Although the only purchase we made was some silk
boxers (for Doug) and a christmas ornament, we got to sample some of
the local foods: Fresh Kiwi-fruit juice, Roast Duck, Grilled Octopus
(on a stick), and a few mysterious fried things which we have not yet
identified). Later we took the "Star Ferry", which is sort of a
floating landmark - a symbol of Hong Kong. The star ferry boats are
fairly old - the company has been ferrying people between Kowloon and
Hong Kong for over 100 years.

 Today is our last day of playing tourist in Hong Kong. We went to see
a restored walled Chinese Village called Sam Tung Uk, in Tsuen Wan, in
the New Territories. It turned out to be quite a bit smaller, and less
interesting than we expected.
 
 So on the way back, we went back to Mong Kok (Kowloon) to look for
the "Bird Market". We didn't know if it would be full of parrots, or
chickens ready to cook, but it sounded interesting. Unfortunately,we
couldn't locate it. It either was demolished, moved, or else our
guidebook map was wrong. No problem. The markets in Mong Kok were even
more crowded that the first time we were there.

We navigated through some pretty crowded streets, and ended up going
to Kowloon Park. Kowloon park is a tightly packed urban park with the
feel of being at the zoo (or an amusement park). Since the sun was
out, so were the people.  There are some interesting sights there.
Probably the most interesting was the Aviary, where there are dozens
of species of Parrots, Macaws, and even a Rhinocerous Horn-Bill. The
colorful blue and red billed Chinese ducks, and Flamingos were a nice
touch. After this we ferried back to Hong Kong on the Star Ferry to
see the outdoor escalator. It's a moving walkway that's become a
tourist attraction.

 We are heading to the Philippeans tomorrow morning, and are looking
forward to some sunny warm weather.

That's it for now....

=
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
 

Date:
        Wed, 17 Feb 1999 07:37:12 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in the Philippines (Part 1)
     To:
        jenatkins@home.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

The following message was written in the Philippines and Bali. We are
currently in Bali, getting ready to travel to Lombok and the Gili
Islands.
Our next few correspondences should be thankfully short. Doug got a
bit carried away, we're afraid.

Cheers!
------------
Greetings from the Philippines!  It's another long-winded travelogue
from the intrepid travellers, Doug and Becca.

Highlights:
* Better weather
* Hospitality in Silang at Chosen Children Village
* Spanish colonial houses in Vigan
* Jeepneys and Tricycles
* Diving at La Lugana, Puerto Galera (Mindoro Island)
* Swimming and Beaching at White Beach, Puerto Galera

Lowlights:
* Slums of Manila
* Air and Noise pollution
* Long bus rides in decrepit busses.

When we last left you, we were just getting ready to leave Hong Kong.
 After reuniting with our gracious hosts, Dave and Vickie, we said our
good-byes the night before our departure.

We got up early to make the daily ferry from the Discovery Bay pier to
the Hong Kong airport. While we waited in line for the ferry, the
sight and smell of a McDonalds nearby tempted Doug into getting an Egg
McMuffin with Cheese, hashbrowns, and an Orange Juice.  By the time he
returned, the line was moving and people were boarding the boat.
Becca was, of course, steaming.

Within minutes, we were speeding along in a small ferry, watching the
morning sun 'try to come out'. As we went under one of the large
suspension bridges, the sun made a brief appearance and disappeared
into the grey haze once more.

Arriving at the airport with plenty of time (3 hours early) we thought
we were on our way. But when we checked in at Philippines Airlines
(PAL), we discovered that our tickets were no longer valid. The
reservations were changed by us and an Air Garuda agent in Saigon
three weeks earlier. But the problem was due to a ticketing error back
in San Francisco back in May '98. After spending a good hour waiting
for one agent to call the next higher-up agent, we finally got the
supervising manager, who looked at the tickets, and decided that the
errors were too blatant to be anything other than a mistake by the
party of the third part (the travel  agent), thereby saving face for
both us and the army of ticket agents.  Since there was a 12 hour time
difference, and because our plane was ready to board, he  then gave us
the boarding passes, and let us go. It was a good thing too, because
we were now about to miss our plane.

Finally on the plane, things went according to plan. We enjoyed the
short flight from Hong Kong to Manila and wondered what new and
exciting adventures awaited us there.

Becca's college roommate Karen Fullerton, grew up in the Philippines.
Her mother Lita and father Ron, founded and run a home for disabled
children known as the Chosen Children Foundation. We planned to meet
them at the airport, and stay with them the first couple of nights at
their home. What we didn't realize is that we were going to be staying
in the lap of luxury in the guest cottage in the Chosen Children
village.

After we cleared customs, Ron and Lita met us by the arrivals area of
the airport. We got in their car and drove off - past some of the
slummy areas around the airport, and up into the coffee growing
country south of Manila, near Lake Taal. Arriving at the Chosen
Children Foundation Village, just south of Silang, in the highlands of
Tagatay, we unpacked our gear. We had a half an hour to collapse on
the bed of the guest cottage before getting the grand tour of the
facilities. After meeting the physical therapists, nurses, cooks and
most of the special needs children, we went back for more rest, and
finally dinner with the Fullertons.

The next day was spent planning the trip through the Philippines. We
wanted to see some of  the north part of  Luzon Island (the main
island which we were on), and also to spend some time on the beach
somewhere, possibly doing some scuba diving. Since Becca is certified
to do open-water diving, the idea was to get Doug certified, and do
some diving later on in the trip in Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand
etc.  We did some checking into the local prices for scuba diving and
found that they were quite steep compared to Thailand. (In Ko Samui
reputable dive shops were charging something like US$ 220 for the 3-4
day course, in the Philippines, the same was about $300).  We also
checked into the possibility of going to the supposedly idyllic island
of Boracay. However, it looked to be a little far out of the way, and
suspiciously over-promoted. We wanted to see some history and culture
in the North, and decided to start our trip in the North, keeping our
options open, then if time permitted, head south to Mindoro Island for
some diving later on.

Since Lita was heading north the day after this, we thought that we
could hitch a ride part way up the coast, and have an extra day to
relax. The next day we spent finalizing our plans, decided on an
aggressive itinerary that included the rice terraces of the north
island at Banuae, the Spanish colonial town of Vigan, the mountain
resort town of  Bagio, and the 100 Islands area along the coast near
Aliminos. The rest of the day, Doug spent time with Ron playing with
the computer, figuring out ways to use Word Perfect to create internet
ready web pages.
 
We left the next morning. On the way Lita stopped to pick up her
friend who lived in a lovely garden house in a gated community. We
continued to drive north until we came to an area in Quezon City where
all the northbound busses stopped. We said good-bye and waited for the
right bus to take us to Vigan, our first (and farthest) destination.

While waiting for the bus, we were befriended by a local guy who
wanted to help us get on the right bus. Actually he was helpful, but
we were paranoid from having seen so many hustlers. He turned out to
be an English 'professor' at one of the local colleges. After this, we
thought "It's really a pity that you cant just trust strangers
offering assistance anywhere anymore.

While travelling, it's sometimes hard to have any real contact with
the culture of the country you are visiting.  The people meet are
usually "tourist parasites", people who make a living bothering
tourists.  If you want to meet the real people of a place, you really
need get off the beaten path and have plenty of time. Its easier to
meet real, honest people when you aren't such an obvious target
(oversized backpacks, waiting for a bus.)  Then the local people are
in their normal environment. Bus stations are not great places for
learning a country's culture, and yet they are.

We stood out like sore (pink) thumbs, towering over the people,
ignoring the continual stares. Men urinated openly on the side of the
road, children played in the dirt, while the women using umbrellas for
shade watched over them from a distance.

After an hour or so of waiting and slowly melting in the mid-day sun
we got on a so-called "air conditioned" bus. "Air Conditioned" busses
come in Asia are either rolling meat freezers, or rolling meat ovens
(the later being the broken down version of the former).

We were getting on one that apparently the AC was on its last legs as
was the bus itself.  We dragged our huge backpacks to the back of the
bus (not an easy feat with all those arm rests), and sat down nearby.
We adjusted the air flow deflectors right in our faces as the bus
rolled out. The smell of diesel fumes was apparent as soon as we left.
Apparently, the exhaust system runs right up the back of the bus,
intermingling with the hot AC air. We sweltered and passed out from
the fumes as the bus lurched forward.

We went past the vestiges of the former Clark US Air Force Base, near
Angeles.  In 1991, the Philippine Senate voted not to renew the
Military Bases Agreement, which had leased the bases to the US since
MacArthur's return after the US kicked the Japanese out. Philippines
politics since the fall of Marcos has been playing to the
nationalistic bandwagon perhaps at the cost of economic growth. From
the US point of view, it couldn't have happened at a better time,
since the US was closing bases everywhere as part of a military
downsizing.

Recently nearby Mount Pinatubo, an active volcano, erupted and the
area is now a tourist attraction for vulcanologists.  It also has some
of the cheapest hotel lodgings in the Philippines, and some good golf
courses, presumably used by the US military personnel and their
families.

After a brief 20 minute lunch stop, we sampled some stews of
mysterious origin (mysterious organ?). We re-boarded the bus and left
for points further. Ten minutes later in a place called Tarlock, we
pulled over for an unexpected break. While we sat on the bus for
people to re-board, we roasted. An hour later, we were growing antsy -
more so than usual. On the verge of a heat-induced panic attack, Doug
got off to find out what was taking so long. Finally we noticed that
the driver was under the bus working with wrenches to fix something. A
half hour later, the bus was declared dead, and we all un-boarded and
waited for the next bus.

Another northbound bus pulled in, and a deal was worked out whereby we
could get a refund for the second part of our first ticket and buy a
new ticket for the remaining distance. Five or Six people (all men)
made change for each other and took turns negotiating with the
conductor, who had to calculate how far each had gone, and how much
they paid. All this was done with a conductor who had no calculator,
and very little change.

The second bus was an air-conditioned bus of the "rolling frozen meat
locker" variety. We were, of course wearing shorts, sandals and
T-shirts, and had forgotten our socks and warm clothes (a
pre-requisite AC buses). We got in the bus and by 3:30 we were rolling
north. We had grossly miscalculated the amount of travel time to get
to Vigan. Also, we hadn't figured on the breakdown. With another 2
hours of sunlight, we still had 6-7 hours of hard traveling to go. And
we were already dead from the heat, soaked in sweat.

We arrived in 9:30 in Vigan on the "meat locker express", feeling and
looking like popcicles. Becca had finally decided to take Doug's
advice and use plastic bags on her feet to keep them from getting
frostbite. Doug was wearing his raincoat for warmth.

We talked to the only other westerner on the bus, an Aussie guy,
middle aged with big moustache, hippy pony tail, and receding
hairline. He was traveling with his girl friend (or perhaps wife) who
was a beautiful young Filipina, on their way to visit her family in
Vigan. We asked them if they would let us know when to get off, which
they did. The bus conductors in the Philippines are generally pretty
good at remembering where you are going, and will remind you when it's
time to get ready. But we had little faith in other peoples memory's,
let alone our own.

Since the second bus did not stop directly in the center of Vigan, we
had to take the local equivalent of a "tuk-tuk", called a "tricycle"
to get to our hotel which we had selected from the guidebook earlier.
A tricycle is a chrome-plated motorcycle with a covered side-car,
adorned with multicolored decorations, which belch blue smoke, and
make lots of noise. The tricycle ride was about 5 kilometers to our
hotel.

We arrived at the "hotel" Vila Angela, which had a huge iron gate, and
looked like a Spanish or Mexican Villa. Although it was described as a
hotel/guesthouse in our guidebook, it had no sign, and was quiet in a
creepy sort of way. The main entrance was a sort of a grand stairway
to the second floor.  A man approached us as we walked toward  the
house. We asked him if he had a room for two people. He just nodded
and walked up the stairs as we pried him with questions:
"How much for 1 night?"
"-500 pesos"
 "Do you have anything cheaper?".
"-no"
He paused for a moment and asked: "You want breakfast?"
"Breakfast.  Now?" I thought.
Thinking quickly I ordered 2 breakfasts, and found out later they were
120 Peso's a piece (yikes). So much for economizing.

There were 2 beds in the room, both antique 4 poster beds, with a
mosquito-net canopy. Both beds were also tiny and about 4 inches too
short to fully extend our legs. To get to the bathroom you had to walk
out of the room around a corner 180 degrees through a door to the
outside, in through a kitchen door and out a back door. This was
despite the fact that the bathroom was outside our window.  All night
long strange dark figures moved past our lace-curtained window.  In
the morning I realized it was the neighbors. In fact our room and
their room were the same room. A sliding partition door separated us,
and they had a door to the verandah where the bathroom was.

We were still having price shock, having recently traveled in Thailand
(inexpensive) and Vietnam (ridiculously inexpensive). Getting used to
prices was fun when we were going from expensive to cheaper countries.
It's hard to figure out at first if you are getting ripped off or not
until you do some shopping around. It turned out that 500 pesos (about
$13) was the price we paid for a room throughout the Philippines,
though the quality and desirability of the location varied quite a
bit. In Vietnam we had showers and attached baths for as little as $8,
and breakfast was seldom more than a dollar US.  I guess we weren't in
Vietnam anymore. While it is almost twice as expensive to travel in
the Philippines, it had the advantage that most people were not as
poor as in SE Asia, and didn't follow you around trying to sell you
things you didn't want. The people weren't used to travelers, and in
general left you alone.
 

In the morning we rose, and had our breakfast in the Kitchen of the
house. The kitchen seemed enormous as the house was quiet. We still
hadn't seen any other guests, and seemed to have this huge house to
ourselves. After breakfast, we walked around some of the historical
streets of Vigan. At first, we sort of unimpressed, except for the
occasional tile roof, or cast-iron window cage. The rats nest of
electrical wires everywhere contributed to a sense of decay due to the
negative effects of  technological progress of the twentieth century.
The city would be beautiful if only they could hide the effects of the
"modern" world: noisy tricycles, air pollution, electrical wires and
signs everywhere.

Luckily we found the one "non-pedestrianized" street in Vigan: a four
or five block long stretch of street that had old barn-door entries,
in which woodcarving workshops were hard at work making  the
elaborately carved wooded furniture, for which Vigan is known. The
street in this section has re-paved with cobblestones, and looks quite
nice. It looks as if this was recently done, in a effort to create a
tourist attraction out of Vigan. While the result is beautiful, it
takes only 10 minutes to see the entire thing. Two wheeled horse
carriages called "Calesa"  clip-clopped down the street giving it a
nice atmosphere.

We walked past the "tourist street", to the main square on which the
Cathedral and its bell-tower sat. The main square, named after a
martyred priest, Father Burgos, is called "Plaza Burgos".
Coincidentally it is surrounded by burger stalls with names like
"Burger Machine", "Big Mak", etc.  There were stalls which sold
deep-fried food called empanadas, a sort of a vegetable turnover which
consists of 1/4 potatoes and vegetables, a filo dough shell, and 3/4
grease. In the middle of the square stood a statue of Father Burgos,
from which 10 or so strings of brightly colored flags radiated. The
place had the atmosphere of a Mexican fiesta.

The Plaza also contained the "Bell Tower", which is across the street
from the Cathedral itself. We noticed that all the churches in this
part of Luzon looked this way. We were used to seeing the tower at the
back of the church, as in Europe, but had seen this before in the
Mission churches in California.

The bell tower and the church were described in the tourist brochures
as "Spanish Baroque", but to us looked more like a Mexican or
California style of church. After all, they were all colonies of Spain
in the same time period: late 18th century and early 19th century.

There must be 10,000 tricycles in Vigan. They are by far the most
common form of transportation. It's not unusual to see a family of
four getting on to one of these.  At first they are an interesting
oddity, but the 2-stroke engine noise, and clouds of blue smoke they
emit reveal them to for what they are: offensive pollution belching
monsters. Like the "tuk-tuk" in Thailand, and the "auto-rickshaws" of
India and Nepal, they greatly reduce the quality of living (and
lifespan) of pedestrians as well as cyclists. The smoke on the main
street, Quezon Ave., reminded us of the air pollution around Connaught
Circus in New Delhi, and our first visit to Bangkok.
l
It occurred to me that almost all of the motorcycles used to make a
tricycle were old two-stroke Yamahas, which make a characteristic
sound when the engine is winding down after being revved up:
"ri-i-i-n, din, din-din, din-din, din-din". They all appeared to be
out of tune.

I later read that the reason 2-stroke engines pollute so much in
Delhi, was that it was cheaper for the drivers to mix diesel fuel with
kerosene, rather than use regular gasoline, and adding oil to the
fuel. India has some vague plan to outlaw 2-stroke engines, now that
it has been determined to be bad for peoples health. In Delhi, the
pollution is so bad that there are now "Oxygen Bars", which are
hangouts for fresh-air junkies, where the air is filtered, and
fortified with oxygen. These are also sprouting up in air pollution
capitals such as Hong Kong and Bangkok.

Vigan could learn from India, and phase out 2-stroke engines. On the
other hand, unless there is a cheap alternative form of public
transportation, they will continue to go the cheap, air polluting
route.  In a country known for political posturing, corruption, and
little action, it will probably get worse before it gets better.

If Vigan would have the political foresight to declare the entire "old
town" area off limits to motorcycles, and set up pedestrian zones, it
could become the "Colonial Williamsburg" of the Philippines. It takes
a while to develop tourism. In spite of the fact that Vigan has the
"best preserved colonial architecture in the Philippines", they just
don't know what it is that tourists need. In fact, it's difficult to
find any signs of tourism existing there. Although there is a "Tourist
Office" the people there barely have any brochures. The office seem
like a government employment scheme for well meaning students. We
asked for a map of Luzon Island, and they didn't have any maps except
for  an old photocopied map of the local area. Even gasoline stations
didn't carry maps! There were no postcard racks, and only one cafe on
the "tourist" street. This was despite a government campaign to
promote tourism in the area, as a way to improve its economy.

Overall, Vigan has potential, but is not worth a 10 hour bus ride from
Manila to get there. The air pollution there is unbelievable for a
town that small. Hopefully this is not a trend.

After Vigan we thought we'd head down the coast to see the "Hundred
Islands". We read about them in our guidebook, but had no pictures of
them. We visualized sandy beaches, Palm trees, tropical breezes, and
loads of fresh air. After that we'd reassess the plan and decide
whether to head up into the mountains from there to see the "eighth
wonder of the world": the rice terraces of Banaue.

Dodging tricycles bent on running us down, we carried our gigantic
backpacks and duffel bag to the Bus Terminal, in search of the
"Partas" station.  At the station, we took turns asking the
dispatchers how to get to Alaminos, near the 100 Islands. It's always
good to get a second opinion, especially when you ask people who don't
speak English well. It seems they would rather give a wrong answer,
than say "I don't  know".  We were told that no busses went directly
to Alaminos, and we needed to take the next bus for Urdaneta to make a
connection there on a "Victory Line" bus. We boarded a 10:00 AM
"air-conditioned" bus and headed off.

The ride in the afternoon was slow and bumpy, but for once the AC was
working properly. We went through some rolling hills, past some nice
stretches of shoreline, some beaches, and through the town "San
Fernando, La Union", which looked like a lovely Spanish town with an
old Spanish Plaza and downtown. It made me wish we could jump off the
bus there just to look around a bit. At our lunch stop, which was in
the typical road-side stand outside of town, we shared a bright red
greasy hot dog, and tried not to drip grease all over our clothes. The
bus took a detour down a dirt road through a village. From the windows
of the bus we got to peer in at people in their bamboo stilt houses,
small children running around naked, old people sitting by the side of
the road, staring at the traffic.

At about 2 PM the bus finally pulled into Urdaneta. It's really hard
to tell where the city began, but soon we were in the thick of it,
waiting for the conductor to signal our exit. Finally the bus stopped
and he waved to us. As we dragged our packs off the bus, he told us to
catch a Victory Liner on the other side of the street going north. We
hopped off and looked around. It was a typical town in the
Philippines. Lots of traffic, noise, pollution, jeepneys. We crossed
the street and looked for a bus stop. Since we couldn't find any we
started walking past a gasoline station until we saw a red "Victory
Line" bus coming for us. It was a local (non- AC) bus.

We hailed the bus, and got on with our packs. We told the conductor we
wanted to go to Alaminos. After thinking a bit he nodded and
communicated that we needed to stay on the bus, to the main station,
then change again. We thought, "O.K., we're at least going to find out
where the bus station is." The bus pulled out, and made an abrupt left
turn and headed down another main road in the direction of Alaminos.
We were on our way. However, the bus did not stop at the edge of town.
Instead, it continued, mile after mile, until we came into another
large city, Dagupan.

In Dagupan we exited the local bus, and asked the dispatcher when the
next bus to Alaminos was. We had 45 minutes to kill, and no place to
sit down. Every seat in the station was taken. The ground was so
greasy with motor-oil and dirt that we couldn't bear the thought of
putting our backpacks down, let alone sitting down. So we waited with
a crowd of 20-30 people that seemed to grow larger and larger.
Finally, the bus (another ordinary bus) pulled into the station. The
entire crowd pushed ahead of us and onto the bus. We got on the bus
last. Becca looked at me, and said "Should we get on?". Doug looking
pale, said "We have no choice, the next bus might be just as crowded".
We got on.

The bus was crowded.  Most seats, built for 3 small Filipinos, held
5-6 people. Bags, including ours, filled the aisle, preventing people
from moving further toward the back of the bus. Becca miraculously
found a seat, but Doug, ever the gentleman, decided to stand. Besides
that, a gentleman offered Becca a seat, and there were no other seats.
 This last segment of the ride was 2.5 hours. Eventually we stopped in
Alaminos.  Pushing through a crowd  we got off the bus, and began
negotiations with the tricycle drivers for a ride to Lucap, home of
the 100 islands.  When the driver offered us a ride for 50 pesos, we
laughed and  walked off. This time it worked. We counter-offered 20,
and settled on 30.

When we arrived in Lucap, our choices were between the guidebook
recommended "Maxine's by the Sea" which had a nice terrace restaurant
and mediocre rooms, and "The Last Resort", which was a dive motel
built over a swamp. We walked along the gangplank of the Last Resort
to see their 400 peso room. The wood of the walkway was so rotted Doug
carring 30-40 lbs of backpack started to break through the floor. When
the innkeeper lady showed us the dark, dank room, a huge cockroach
came running out of the bathroom. Becca jumped to the side, and the
lady stomped on it with her shoe and flung it out into the swamp.
Doug did not notice because he was so repulsed by the mildew and
rotting wood that he was waiting outside, trying hard not to crash
through the floor.  We decided to pass on the room.

Maxine's was not that much better, but for 500 ($13 US) , it had a
solid floor, ancient noisy A.C., attached cold water bathroom,
screens, towels and a top sheet. Sheer luxury.  We jumped at it,
bought a beer from the restaurant and flopped down on the bed
exhausted.

The next morning, at sunrise 5:45 we awoke to a medly of tunes played
over a loud public address system. The first song was "Bye Bye Miss
American Pie", which wasn't enough to wake us up really.  The second
song was "Lonely is a man without Love", by Tom Jones, followed by
some really noisy and repetitive Filipino pop dance music. At 6:00 or
so, Doug had more than he could take. He went out into the restaurant
desparately ready to scream at the top of his lungs: "WHAT'S WRONG
WITH YOU PEOPLE !!!!!". Instead he just walked up to the restaurant
waiter and stared. Doug asked politely if they would turn it down a
notch. They did.

The sun was starting to come up Doug and the waiters shared their awe
at the sun rise. After this Doug slumped back to bed. The music
blared, still loud enough to overwhelm the noise of the Air
Conditioner. Becca had a simpler approach, she just put her pillow
over her head. Finally at about 7 AM, the music ceased as mysteriously
as it had started.

This was our morning ritual on 2 of 3 mornings. One morning we woke to
a medley of German Polka music. Egad!  It was very rousing, I must say.

The first day we just spent reading, writing in our journals, and
resting up from the bus ride. Sitting on the restaurant terrace,
getting fresh air was like a tonic to us. We walked to the lighthouse
and pier nearby to visit the tourist information office (very
helpful). Other than that we just did nothing, which took all the
energy all we had left in us.

The third day we took a pleasure trip to the islands in one of the
outrigger "banca boats". We hired a local boatman, who looked like a
pirate, except for the fact that he has about 4 foot 6 and weighed in
at about 90 lbs. He had one or two blackened stumps for teeth, and a
bad eye that made it difficult to look him in his good one.  After
negotiation with him over a period of one and a half days, we finally
gave in to his price: 350 for all day.

The trip to the islands was pleasant, if nothing else. The 100 islands
perhaps should be renamed. First, there are more than 100 of them, and
second, some of them are really only rocks that barely support any
vegitation. Only 2 or 3 of them had a beach, and were heavilly
touristed. These same 2-3 islands were also the only ones that
tourists were allowed to stop on. The others looked too rocky to get
close to. We stopped on the tallest one, Governor's Is. (40 feet or
so), and walked up to the tallest point, took a few photos and left.
After that we saw Marcos Island (named after you know who?), and
stopped to sunbath and snorkel on Quezon Island. Quezon Island is
named for Manuel Quezon, who was the president of the Philipines at
the time of the Japanese occupation.

Quezon Island was large enough to be interesting, but too small to
warrant more than a few hours. Concrete walkways with fake tree vines
for railings led up to a statue of Quezon, past a concrete statue of
some mermaids, a helicopter landing pad, and past a defunct outhouse.
Although the outhouse was locked,  people had been crapping behind it,
around it and in the bushes, and, as you might suspect, it had quite
an odor. Some modern facilities existed further down on the beach,
where there was an outdoor pavilion, in which families were chowing
down on big pots of food.

We put our blanket on the beach under the shade of one of the scrubby
trees, and eventually had to move to the sand underneath a limestone
ledge.  The island was short on shade. We rented masks and snorkels to
do a bit of snorkeling. Unfortunately, there was not much to see. Most
of the corals in the area had been killed by extensive long term use
of dynamite to fish. The local fishermen found that it was easier to
throw sticks of dynamite in the water and collect the fish that float
up, rather than set nets. This not only killed the fish, it killed
their reef, which had at one time been quite the place to go
snorkeling.  To be fair, we did see some fish, even the odd angel
fish, looking for something to hide behind. But in general, it was
pretty dead down there.

So the 100 islands were a bit of a disappointment. We had nice weather
for a change, and even got to lay on a beach. The islands were puny
and had little shade. The area seemed to be counting on a big influx
of tourism that never quite came. It was a popular place for Filipino
people with their families, but not worth going out of your way for.

Unfortuanately,we never got to see the famous rice terraces at Banaue,
because it was a 2 day bus ride from Lupac. It turned out that it
would have been easier to get to Banaue straight from Manila. We
instead made plans to go south of Manila, across the straits to
Mindoro Island, to a place called Puerto Galera.
 
At 9 AM on our way out of Lupac, we got caught in a downpour which
caused the tricycle driver to have to pull over on the side of the
road. We waited in the shelter of a roadside shed for the rain to let
up.
 

End of Part I
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Wed, 17 Feb 1999 07:43:19 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in the Phillipines (Part 2)
     To:
        jenatkins@home.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

(continued ...)

At 9 AM on our way out of Lupac, we got caught in a downpour which
caused the tricycle driver to have to pull over on the side of the
road. We waited in the shelter of a roadside shed for the rain to let
up.

When we got to the station, we were once again drenched and ready to
board an Air Conditioned Bus to Manila. We took the first one, which
went to Cubao (Quezon City), and later switched to one which went to
directly to Passay, on the south side of Manila. From there we took a
BLTD Bus (non-aircon) for Batangas. By the time we got into Batangas,
it was 10:00 PM. After being dropped off at the pier we took another
tricycle ride up into town, and crashed for the night. There was only
one super cheap hotel in Batangas (250 ps of about $7), a place called
the Avenue Pension Hotel. To sumarize: no toilet paper, no sink, no
toilet seat, toilet flushed only with a bucket, cold water shower, no
light in the bathroom, dirty walls, tiny sheet big enough for only one
person, rock hard bed. We had hit rock bottom, both in price and
amenities.  But it was only for one night, and since we had perviously
stayed in worse places in India, it wasn't that bad.

In Batangas City the next morning, we went to a bank for a cash
infusion (cash advance on our Visa debit card), breakfast at
McDonalds, and  made it to the ferry terminal for an 11:30 ferry to
Puerto Galera. The Ferry terminal in Batangas is a major ferry
terminal, from which you can get to almost all the islands south of
Luzon. We were on our speedy ferry going through rough seas, arriving
around 1:00 PM in a lovely bay, with white sand beaches, tall coconut
palms, and a natural sailboat harbor. Compared to anything we had seen
before, this was paradise.

Once on shore, we walked around avoiding the boat touts. We decided to
go to La Lugana Beach near Sabang. To do that, the best way was to get
on one of the local jeepneys for Sabang. So we climbed in, ducking our
heads, with our immense packs, and sat on the bench waiting for it to
depart. These things don't move until they are full - packed to be
precise. And then, hold onto your hat! The ride was like the Indiana
Jones ride at Disneyland, only much, much more dangerous. The jeepney
ascended a muddy switchback road, with views of crescent bays on both
sides.  Sections of the road were complete mud, which becomes
impassible during or after a rain storm. Although it recently had
rained, the road was passable. People got on and off, as it made stops
along the road through the jungle.

Arriving in Sabang, we got off and carried our packs through the
narrow pedestran "streets", along Sabang Beach, around a point to
"Small La Lugana", then over a ridge to Large La Lugana Beach.  We
took the first bungalow we came to, a newer concrete model, smack dab
on the beach facing the waves. Next door to the cottage was a small
"fast food" restaurant run by the same owner.

We spent the rest of the day, relaxing and sitting on the front porch
of the bungalow, listening to the waves.  We quickly made friends with
our neighbors, a Danish hippie guy, his Filipina wife, and their one
year old son. They apparently spend each winter in the same place in
the Philippines, mostly fishing and hanging out. His brother, a
computer network designer, was in the next bungalow over.

The Danish guy had some great stories to tell, and had recently caught
a 6 foot long sailfish. He had the photos to prove it. He had some
stories about modern day pirates using motorized speed boats with
extra large outboard motors mounted on the outriggers, and machine
guns turrets and rocket launchers, to attack merchant vessels.  The
pirates made a living by smuggling drugs, arms, and merchandise (tax
free) to and from Malaysia. The government was helpless to stop them,
although they recently had intercepted a large shipment of drugs.

We walked the beach past the 20 odd dive shops looking for the "best
price" on some dive instruction. What we found was the prices are
rigged. The dive shop owners of Puerto Galera, had set the prices
according to the "international standard rate" of US$300. Their local
dive association forbade any sort of price competition. It was a sad
day for the free market - the cartel held, in spite of the relative
lack of tourists. Finally we gave in and Doug was signed up for a 4
day course.

Puerto Galera has some of the best scuba diving reefs in the
Philippines. There are wrecks, some recent wooden ones, some old metal
ones, walls, canyons, shark caves etc. All in all, a great place to go
diving. A dive for a certified diver including all equipment went for
about $27. If you are interested, one place to contact is the "Big La
Lugana Dive Resort", though we'd suggest staying in a bungalow down
the street.

For night life, we would walk for 20 minutes or so over to Sabang,
have dinner, beer, and walk back.  Sabang has a reputation for "girlie
bars" (which are tame by Thailand standards), disco's and loud drunken
nightlife. For this reason, it's better to stay in Big La Lugana, and
party in Sabang.

After five days of diving and doing precious little else, we were
completely refreshed, and were looking forward to the next leg of the
trip. But before we left Puerto Galera, we wanted to spend the last
night on the other side of the peninsula at a beach called "White
Beach". White Beach is much more of a sun-bathers paradise than a
divers paradise. The beach is much wider and longer, and there is a
steeper drop off, which makes it nice for swimming. There is little or
no night-life which makes it really ideal for relaxing.

We took a ferry back to Batangas, and decided on our transportation
options to get to Silang. Since we were returning to the Fullerton's
(Chosen Children Village), it wasn't as easy as getting to Manila.
Although they weren't very far from Batangas, there were no easy,
direct bus routes. But in Luzon, all roads lead to Manila.

After getting on the first bus out of town we realised they weren't
going to stop until we were in Manila. We got on a Cubao bound bus,
and didn't realize they weren't going to stop at Pasay (our stop). On
the freeway outside of Manila, the conductor told us to get off the
bus. We disembarked the bus and stood on the side of the freeway with
about 30 other people. It's a good thing it wasn't raining because
there was nothing but dust and freeway. Within minutes, our luck
changed. A BLTD bus bound for Pasay pulled up and we completed the
transfer.

Back in Pasay we waited for an hour or so on the Bus for Silang, and
finally left. We weren't sure if the conductor knew where to let us
off, so we spent most of the ride staring intently out of the window,
looking for a gas-station with some life-sized plastic cows (our
landmark). Finally, a helpful Filipino guy befriended Becca and acted
as an interpreter. He knew where the "Chosen Children Village" was,
and let the conductor know where we were going.  We got off the bus
right in front of the driveway.

The next morning we were back in the lap of luxury. After making a
visit to the post-office, Doug worked on the computer. If not for the
use of Ron's laptop, this letter might have been only 3-4 pages!
There's no telling what might happen if we had one with us. Yikes!

That night we had another delicous dinner with our gracious hosts Ron
and Lita. The following  morning, we left for Manila to catch our
plane to Singapore, thanks to a ride provided by the Fullertons driver.

So that's all for now. We are off for Singapore for a few days, and
then on to Bali?
 
 
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
 
 

Date:
        Wed, 17 Feb 1999 07:43:19 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in the Phillipines (Part 2)
     To:
        jenatkins@home.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

(continued ...)

At 9 AM on our way out of Lupac, we got caught in a downpour which
caused the tricycle driver to have to pull over on the side of the
road. We waited in the shelter of a roadside shed for the rain to let
up.

When we got to the station, we were once again drenched and ready to
board an Air Conditioned Bus to Manila. We took the first one, which
went to Cubao (Quezon City), and later switched to one which went to
directly to Passay, on the south side of Manila. From there we took a
BLTD Bus (non-aircon) for Batangas. By the time we got into Batangas,
it was 10:00 PM. After being dropped off at the pier we took another
tricycle ride up into town, and crashed for the night. There was only
one super cheap hotel in Batangas (250 ps of about $7), a place called
the Avenue Pension Hotel. To sumarize: no toilet paper, no sink, no
toilet seat, toilet flushed only with a bucket, cold water shower, no
light in the bathroom, dirty walls, tiny sheet big enough for only one
person, rock hard bed. We had hit rock bottom, both in price and
amenities.  But it was only for one night, and since we had perviously
stayed in worse places in India, it wasn't that bad.

In Batangas City the next morning, we went to a bank for a cash
infusion (cash advance on our Visa debit card), breakfast at
McDonalds, and  made it to the ferry terminal for an 11:30 ferry to
Puerto Galera. The Ferry terminal in Batangas is a major ferry
terminal, from which you can get to almost all the islands south of
Luzon. We were on our speedy ferry going through rough seas, arriving
around 1:00 PM in a lovely bay, with white sand beaches, tall coconut
palms, and a natural sailboat harbor. Compared to anything we had seen
before, this was paradise.

Once on shore, we walked around avoiding the boat touts. We decided to
go to La Lugana Beach near Sabang. To do that, the best way was to get
on one of the local jeepneys for Sabang. So we climbed in, ducking our
heads, with our immense packs, and sat on the bench waiting for it to
depart. These things don't move until they are full - packed to be
precise. And then, hold onto your hat! The ride was like the Indiana
Jones ride at Disneyland, only much, much more dangerous. The jeepney
ascended a muddy switchback road, with views of crescent bays on both
sides.  Sections of the road were complete mud, which becomes
impassible during or after a rain storm. Although it recently had
rained, the road was passable. People got on and off, as it made stops
along the road through the jungle.

Arriving in Sabang, we got off and carried our packs through the
narrow pedestran "streets", along Sabang Beach, around a point to
"Small La Lugana", then over a ridge to Large La Lugana Beach.  We
took the first bungalow we came to, a newer concrete model, smack dab
on the beach facing the waves. Next door to the cottage was a small
"fast food" restaurant run by the same owner.

We spent the rest of the day, relaxing and sitting on the front porch
of the bungalow, listening to the waves.  We quickly made friends with
our neighbors, a Danish hippie guy, his Filipina wife, and their one
year old son. They apparently spend each winter in the same place in
the Philippines, mostly fishing and hanging out. His brother, a
computer network designer, was in the next bungalow over.

The Danish guy had some great stories to tell, and had recently caught
a 6 foot long sailfish. He had the photos to prove it. He had some
stories about modern day pirates using motorized speed boats with
extra large outboard motors mounted on the outriggers, and machine
guns turrets and rocket launchers, to attack merchant vessels.  The
pirates made a living by smuggling drugs, arms, and merchandise (tax
free) to and from Malaysia. The government was helpless to stop them,
although they recently had intercepted a large shipment of drugs.

We walked the beach past the 20 odd dive shops looking for the "best
price" on some dive instruction. What we found was the prices are
rigged. The dive shop owners of Puerto Galera, had set the prices
according to the "international standard rate" of US$300. Their local
dive association forbade any sort of price competition. It was a sad
day for the free market - the cartel held, in spite of the relative
lack of tourists. Finally we gave in and Doug was signed up for a 4
day course.

Puerto Galera has some of the best scuba diving reefs in the
Philippines. There are wrecks, some recent wooden ones, some old metal
ones, walls, canyons, shark caves etc. All in all, a great place to go
diving. A dive for a certified diver including all equipment went for
about $27. If you are interested, one place to contact is the "Big La
Lugana Dive Resort", though we'd suggest staying in a bungalow down
the street.

For night life, we would walk for 20 minutes or so over to Sabang,
have dinner, beer, and walk back.  Sabang has a reputation for "girlie
bars" (which are tame by Thailand standards), disco's and loud drunken
nightlife. For this reason, it's better to stay in Big La Lugana, and
party in Sabang.

After five days of diving and doing precious little else, we were
completely refreshed, and were looking forward to the next leg of the
trip. But before we left Puerto Galera, we wanted to spend the last
night on the other side of the peninsula at a beach called "White
Beach". White Beach is much more of a sun-bathers paradise than a
divers paradise. The beach is much wider and longer, and there is a
steeper drop off, which makes it nice for swimming. There is little or
no night-life which makes it really ideal for relaxing.

We took a ferry back to Batangas, and decided on our transportation
options to get to Silang. Since we were returning to the Fullerton's
(Chosen Children Village), it wasn't as easy as getting to Manila.
Although they weren't very far from Batangas, there were no easy,
direct bus routes. But in Luzon, all roads lead to Manila.

After getting on the first bus out of town we realised they weren't
going to stop until we were in Manila. We got on a Cubao bound bus,
and didn't realize they weren't going to stop at Pasay (our stop). On
the freeway outside of Manila, the conductor told us to get off the
bus. We disembarked the bus and stood on the side of the freeway with
about 30 other people. It's a good thing it wasn't raining because
there was nothing but dust and freeway. Within minutes, our luck
changed. A BLTD bus bound for Pasay pulled up and we completed the
transfer.

Back in Pasay we waited for an hour or so on the Bus for Silang, and
finally left. We weren't sure if the conductor knew where to let us
off, so we spent most of the ride staring intently out of the window,
looking for a gas-station with some life-sized plastic cows (our
landmark). Finally, a helpful Filipino guy befriended Becca and acted
as an interpreter. He knew where the "Chosen Children Village" was,
and let the conductor know where we were going.  We got off the bus
right in front of the driveway.

The next morning we were back in the lap of luxury. After making a
visit to the post-office, Doug worked on the computer. If not for the
use of Ron's laptop, this letter might have been only 3-4 pages!
There's no telling what might happen if we had one with us. Yikes!

That night we had another delicous dinner with our gracious hosts Ron
and Lita. The following  morning, we left for Manila to catch our
plane to Singapore, thanks to a ride provided by the Fullertons driver.

So that's all for now. We are off for Singapore for a few days, and
then on to Bali?
 
 
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Mon, 15 Mar 1999 16:21:50 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith  
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Indonesia (Part 2)

                                                                Add
                                                            Addresses
 
 
 

Welcome back, my friends, to the trip that never ends!
We ran out of time on the missive from Indonesia and had to split it
in two... so here is the exciting conclusion:

We last left our intrepid duo dodging the tropical rain showers on the
Island of 'Gili Air', north of Lombok.

-------

The time we spent on Gili Air was all relaxation, eating, drinking
'Bintang' (that's Indo for Beer), avoiding the 4PM monsoonal downpour,
reading used paperbacks, snorkeling the coral reef, and walking around
the island.

There are three 'Gili Islands': Air, Meno, and Trawangan.  They can be
categorized as follows:

Air: Don't Worry, Be Happy
Meno: Robinson Crusoe
Trawangan: Party on Dude

(The fourth Gili Island 'Gans', is uncharted, and is said to be
inhabited by a small group of castaways.)

We spent about 5 days on Gili Air, and one night on Trawangan, just to
see what we were missing.

Gili Air is a former coconut plantation, a flat coral fringed island
with white sand beaches, coconut palms, acacias, farm land, and a
small village of mostly Muslim, Sassak speaking inhabitants, including
a Mosque.

Our hut was a typical bamboo hut on stilts with a grass roof, front
porch with hammock, two beds with foam matresses, an open air latrine
with cold shower. The owners of the bunglalows there haven't caught on
to 'solar' showers yet (despite the obvious potential). After I
suggested it to one guy he said: 'My guest no want hot shower. My
guest like cold shower.' End of discussion. After the fourth day of
not having hot showers, I improvised by using a discarded 6 liter
water bottle, leaving it in the sun on the ground. This worked fine
for afternoon showers as long as the sun was out.

We woke daily to the sound of the Muslim 'call to prayer' at about 5
AM, right before the roosters living below our hut. The mornings were
mostly clear and the afternoons were increasingly cloudy (due to heat
and evaporation), culminating in a nightly downpour that has to be
seen to be believed. The heavy showers are random, and can happen at
any time of day. Since nothing really dries in the tropics, we had to
get used to the smell of mouldering t-shirts etc.

The first night, a green two inch (diameter) coconut beetle flew into
the thatched-roof restaurant landing on  Becca, and attaching itself
to her left shoulder. I removed it, although the bug was so determined
to stay there that the job almost required pliers.

After a few days of lazing around we did some snorkeling. Wearing Teva
sandals, we were able to walk out a long way in waist deep water over
dead corals to the outer part of the reef. Most of the corals there
(and around Bali as well) are dead or are dying due to the global
warming. Since we were only 6 degrees south of the equator, the water
warms rapidly. Combine that with the relatively shallow waters of the
Bali Sea, and you have an ecological disaster.  There are still plenty
of colorful fish, including some parrot fish, groupers, and angelfish.

We also saw a 2 foot monitor lizard on the beach and were reminded
that the Island of Komodo was not far away. Although there were some 3
night 'cruises' to Komodo on decrepit fishing boats being offered for
cheap prices, we decided not to risk it. Actually this was a good
decision because there were more than a few tropical storm during that
week. The highlight of this tour is, of course, Komodo Island where
the famous Komodo Dragons (giant Monitor Lizards) live. One of the fun
activities is the 'feeding' of the lizards, which is done for tourist
amusement: A goat is tied up and hung from the branches of a low tree.
As the goat struggles to escape, the 6-foot plus lizards devour it.
Legend has it that a Japanese tourist also managed to be eaten while
exploring the island.

There are three means of 'transport' on the Gili Islands: foot,
bicycle, and horse carriage. (That's our kind of island!). On the
morning we left Gili Air, we splurged on a carriage ride to the ferry.
Getting off the carriage we put our backpacks on. The boy who drove
the carriage casually reached over to Becca's neck and grabbed a small
scorpion that had decided to hitch a ride on her backpack.  After
throwing it on the ground, he beat it with a stick, as he held out his
hand for payment.

We decided to spend a night on Gili Trawangan (the party island)
before leaving. Trawangan was certainly more developed and populated
than anywhere on Gili Air. There were lots of dive shops, and tourist
shops selling sarrongs, batik tropical shirts, and the odd used book.

There is a nightly 'party' that is advertised on the signs outside
each of the 'pubs'. It moves to a different pub each night, by
agreement of the pub-owners. One of them read: 'We have Magic Mushroom
for the trip to the moon'. However we didn't witness the party scene,
because as usual there was a monsoon downpour that kept us at our
restaurant, watching a free Robert De Niro action video.

The video disk was so damaged that it kept repeating a scene over and
over. We don't know the name of the flick (about the IRA, where they
are trying to steal a briefcase from the Russian Mafia). The disk was
so bad, they started it over from the beginning, fast-forwarding to
scenes we already saw.

The same old Holywood formula: lots of driving the wrong way on
freeways, exploding vehicles, automatic weapon shootouts and blood
spattered bodies. Fortunately, this one was set in Europe and not in
the US, which made me feel better about the whole thing.

We saw quite a few movies in  Indonesia. It's a cheap night out, and a
break from too much sun and fun.
After this exciting night out we headed back to Bali.

The ferry ride was memorable only for the fact that it was the worst
ferry ride of our trip (thus far). We boarded the ferry, followed by
'hawkers' selling us pineapple, bananas, and rice folded up in Banana
leaves.
Once on the boat, it began to rain heavily. All the hawkers, at least
20 of them, followed us on.

There was not enough seats for all the passengers, and we soon
realized that we'd be sitting on the floor. We used our 'carry pads'
which we'd been carrying since Athens once again. The floor was
disgustingly dirty, so the pads were useful once again. After sitting
down the hawkers (standing and kneeling) surrounded us like a pack of
wild hyennas. After saying 'no' five times and trying to keep my cool,
I finally swatted one guy with my baseball cap after he started
touching me. Becca scolded me for this, and I felt a bit ashamed.
'This is the way riots get started' she reminded me. I tried to plea
self defense, and temporary insanity, but she was right. We were in
Indonesia after all.

Arriving back in Bali, we headed up to the villages of Ubud, the
'cultural capital' of  Bali. Ubud is what I call the 'Marin County' of
Bali: Art Galleries, Gourmet Restaurants, and lots of shopping (and
haggling) for arts and crafts. We loved Ubud, and especially the hot
showers. We saw some of the traditional Balinese Dancing: The Barrong
Dance, and the Ramayana Balet. We also visited the local Art Museum,
the Neko Museum where we saw paintings by local and European (mostly
Dutch) painters.

One day we rented a bicycles and went for a spin. We visited several
important prehistoric Balinese religious sites:

Goa Gajah, the Elephant Cave, where the mouth of the cave is a carved
'Demon', and a pool of water fountain fed by four stone carved, larger
than life, big breasted females;

Yeh Palu,  excavated in 1925, which has Hindu stone carvings dating
from the 14th century, and a stone figure of Ganesha.

Next we visted another great Balinese temple nearby: Pura Samuan Tiga,
the Temple of the Meeting of the Three (the Hindu Trimurty: Brahma
Shiva, and Vishnu).
One the way back to Ubud, we took our bicycles on the scenic route
through the real Bali: some small villages near Penjing, filled with
temples, and narrow lanes shaded by large trees, where children
played. We had to cross over 3 roaring rivers through some steep
valleys. Although this was a great ride, and had great scenery, we
were trying to beat the rain clouds back to our hotel.

On another day we rented a motorbike (125cc Honda Astra scooter) and
went farther afield to see some of the other major temples and sites
near Tampak Siring:

Gunung Kawi: Walking down steep ravine through beautiful rice terraces
to the site of 4 stone carved shrines, which are carved into the side
of a sheer cliff. The guidebook compares it to the temples of Ajanta
and Ellora in India, but this pales in comparison. Ellora is 100 times
better. After viewing and documenting the temples on film, an old man
led us on a path through the rice terraces to a couple of waterfalls
nearby.

Tirta Empul: The water temple, dates to 962 AD, and was restored in
the 1960's. The springs are sacred, and are believed to have magical
powers. It's the source of the same river that goes by Gunung Kawi
only a couple of miles away.

On the way back we stopped off at the 'Navel of the World', and the
'Crazy Buffalo' Temple:

Pura Kebo Eban, the 'Crazy Buffalo' Temple has statues of male and
female buffalos, flanking a 10 foot statue called the Giant of Pejing.
The 'giant' which has six small penises, like the buffalos, dates from
the pre-hindu period. The town, Pejing, was once the site of a huge
kingdom. The statues held in this temple were found in the nearby rice
fields.

Pura Pusering Jagat, the 'Navel of the World', temple is visited by
young couples who pray at the large stone lingam (largest stone
phallus in Asia), and yoni (ditto female sexual organ), for fertility
and many children. There is a stone cylinder in the rear that has a
carving of the Hindu myth of the 'Churning of the oceans of milk', the
battle between the gods and demons over the life. This scene is also
found on the reliefs of Ankor Wat, which seems to indicate a link
between the Javanese/Balinese culture and the Khmer Civilization.

Back in Ubud we ate at some great restaurants, most notably the Cafe
Luna. In general, the seafood in Bali is great. Cafe Luna was truly
gourmet. And best of all, a meal can be had for less than US$3.

It was difficult to leave Ubud, but we decided to go up to the North
coast, and stay in the beach towns near Lovina. We took a shuttle bus
up and over the top of the Batur Volcanic crater. The volcano was
giving off some steam, and looked foreboding. The weather was on the
wet and wild side, which made us glad we were heading down a steep
switchback road to the ocean side on the supposedly drier north side
of the island.

Lovina is the name for the 8 miles or so of black sand volcanic
beaches, which has developed into a tourist location. The beaches were
nice, but like Kuta, a bit trashy. The big things to do there were the
tacky 'Dolphin Watching' trips, snorkeling trips, and a nearby
fantastic hotspring. The best part was of course the hotspring: Two
large swimming pools are  fed by a natural hot spring. Hot water flows
into each of the pools from the mouths of 8 stone carved Nagas
(serpant demons).

The path to the springs were a gauntlet of tourist-trap shops. Some of
them employ guerrilla tactics to lure in tourists:  One of them had a
baby monkey on a leash, that looked particularly sad. He had been
taken from his mother at a very young age and reached out his arms to
be held by passers by. An Aussie woman was told that the monkey was
'for sale' for 150,000 (US$18). However, he wouldn't survive if
reintroduced into the wild without a surrogate mother.

Finally we headed back to Kuta to chill-out, do the internet, and head
to the airport. Arriving late in a rainstorm, we went back to our old
favorite hotel Bali Dwipa, but were told 'Sorry, but we are almost
full and have no hot shower rooms.' So instead, we took their last
remaining room: A real dump of a room that smelled like an ashtray.
The walls were spattered with a substance that was either barbeque
sauce, or the result of a long night of partying.

We moved the next morning to a better room near the pool by the bungee
jumping tower. We found out that we could use the pool below the tower
all day for the price of a drink at their bar. This is a great deal,
since this pool is one of the only 'tout-free-zones' in Kuta. We used
it all day, and caught up on our sunburns. We watched people bungee
jumping, which I had at first thought of as a fool-hardy sport for mad
Aussies.  The price was an astronomical (for Bali) $40 for 2 dives
from a 50 meter (165 foot) platform, over a deep swimming pool with
the letters JUMP on the bottom.  By the second day, I was psyched
enough to do the jump, but did not. Without one of my 'manly-mens
bicycle club' members to double dare me, I opted for writing part 1 of
this message instead.

We finally left Bali on the third night back in 'Cootie' Beach.
Boarding the 11:30 PM Garruda Indonesia flight to Darwin (Australia),
we bade Bali a fond farewell.

 
==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
 

Date:
        Tue, 23 Mar 1999 19:25:16 -0800 (PST)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Australia (Part 1)
     To:
        jenatkins@home.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

Hi gang,

We're currently in Airlie Beach, working our way down the coast to
Sydney. We arrived on Air Garuda flight in the middle of the night
between the 9th and 10th of March.

Highlights:
------------
- Crocodiles and wildlife in Northern Territories
- Aboriginal Art and culture
- Feeding Charlie the Water-Buffalo (biggest movie star in Northern
Territories)
- Sailing the Whitsunday Islands on the biggest maxi-yacht ever built
- Snorkeling and the Great Barrier Reef
- Magnetic Island
- Holding and feeding baby wallabys
- Kick-boxing with kangaroos

Lowlights:
----------
- Rain and Flooded roads
- Delays in traveling due to floods
- Making brain-dead expensive decisions with no sleep
- Demolishing our camera on the deck of the Matador
- Too many late night parties
- General lack of sleep

As we arrived in Darwin, we had to pass through the Australian customs
agents. Unlike any other country we've ever visited thus far they are
very thorough.
Although the young guys who run that airports customs office are
dedicated, polite, and cheerful, it was like entering a totalitarian
police state. This is understandable given that Jakarta is closer to
Darwin than Darwin is to Sydney. Our bags were first x-rayed
extensively, and a printout of the x-ray was made. The agent marked
anything that looked suspicious with a highlighter and then search the
bags. Before this we had to answer questions like: 'Did you pack the
bag yourself?','Did anyone else touch your baggage',
and 'Is everything in your bags your personal possession?'. We were
sweating bullets although we didn't have any real reason to be
nervous. By looking nervous, we were beyond suspicion (of course),
which was part of our plan.

Finally we got on a shuttle bus at 3:30 AM to take us to our hostel.
We had to wake up the night watchman who led us to our room. It all
seemed so orderly and peaceful compared to Bali.

The next morning we chose our transportation for the rest of our
Australian trip. We had a very smooth talking salesman who convinced
us to go with the "OZ Experience" for transit. It's a hop-on, hop-off
bus that goes to some out of the way places, and is oriented toward
'backpackers', which in Australia means 'young college-aged
backpackers who party hardy every night' (unlike the seasoned
travelers you meet on the road in places like Vietnam and India.)

Oz Experience is not a great way to travel if you are interested in
getting from point A to Point B in a short period of time. The buses
run every three days (though we were told they run every day), and
they almost sometimes don't run at all, for example because of floods,
but we'll get to that later.

We also signed up for a 4-wheel drive safari to Kakadu Nation Park, a
wild area near the border of Northern Territories and Arnhem Land,
which is populated largely by Aboriginal people, and wildlife. The
4-wheel drive trip was fun, but way too expensive for what you got. If
we had to do it again, we would have done it on our own with another
couple. It's actually cheaper to rent a 4-wheel drive land rover or
camper, and do some exploring on your own. Our guide, Klara, though,
was great. She led us to some fine waterfalls and swimming holes. She
also was good at explaining how Aboriginals use the native plants and
animals for a diet. We did see some wallabys, spoon-bill birds, a
king-snake, a dingo (wild dog), mag-pie geese. We also saw some famous
aboriginal cave paintings depicting the 'dream-time' (creation myths)
of a particular clan that used to live in Kakadu. Klara was also in
charge of cooking us some genuine local food. We did a stir-fry of
vegetables, and had some saute'd steaks on the side. While chowing
down on the meat, we commented on tender it was. Doug happened to ask,
'By the way, what kind of meat is this? It's delicious' The answer
came back: 'kangaroo. How d'ya like it?'. It tasted like beef, only
more tender.

Our trip also included a river 'crocodile cruise', where we expected
to see some jumping croc's. We did get to see a big 3-4 meter long
saltwater crocodile. The boat guides have been training the croc's to
come up to the boat for some free meat. They stick a big chunk of meat
(of some kind) on the end of a rope, then lower it down to the water.
The Croc's come by and snap at the meat. Sometimes they launch
themselves out of the water into the air to get the meat. These are
some particularly vicious reptiles, even compared to our American
'Gators'. After all, they didn't name 'Crocodile Dundee'  something
like 'Kangaroo Dundee' or 'Koala Dundee'.

On the way back to Darwin we stopped of in Pine Creek, which is famous
for a gold-rush back in the late 1800's and for the giant termite
mounds. Some of the mounds were at least 8 feet tall.

We also stopped along the way to see the most famous movie star in the
Northern Territories: Charlie the Buffalo. He was in the movie
'Crocodile Dundee' (if you recall, it's been such a long time we
forgot). He's a huge water buffalo with a massive spread of horns
(more than 6 feet). Strangely, he loves milk. Our guide fed him some
of the left-over milk and let us have turns doing the same.

Back in Darwin, we went out for a free meal at the Victoria Hotel, the
oldest bar in Darwin. While eating, a possum came crawling up a tree
and onto the balcony we were eating at. We snapped a few photo's and
fed him some of our bread. The Australian possums are much cuter than
their American cousins. They don't look as much like large rats as
ours do. They also are very friendly critters.

While in Darwin we visited a couple of the local museums so soak up
some of the local culture. It turns out that they have an excellent
local history museum which includes lots of exhibits on Aboriginal
Art, Maritime History, the local Chinese community history and an
exhibit on Cyclone Tracy. Darwin looks so 'new' in part because it was
leveled by Cyclone Tracy on Christmas Day 1974. Since then most of the
survivors have moved out of Darwin, although the population today is
somewhat larger.

Darwin also has some nice beaches, but you cannot swim in the water
between October and May, due to deadly 'stingers', or 'box-jellyfish'
which inhabit the coastal waters.

Finally we left Darwin on a 6:20 AM Qantas flight to Cairns
(pronounced 'Cans' with a Boston accent!).
We made a stop-over in a Uranium mining town in the middle of
Arnhemland, on Aboriginal land. Later we landed in Cairns and went to
our hostel via their free shuttle.

While in Cairns we experienced the North Queensland 'Wet'. Basically,
it poured rain (or 'bucketed' as they say here) for a night and a day.
The day we arrived we took long naps, used the computer, and worked on
our travel plans.

The following day, Monday the 15th, we visited a high-tech Aboriginal
theme park called 'Tjapukai'. We purchased tickets from the travel
office of the hostel, and were picked up by a shuttle bus. Once there
we were led into a multimedia theater where we put on headphones,
selected the language we wanted to hear the show in, and watched a
short documentary on the history of the Aborigines. To make a long
story short: The Aborigines were treated like animals. Although they
believed that the people belonged to the land and not the other way
around, the British settlers quickly dominated them, took their land,
and resettled them.  This sounds all too familiar.

The aboriginal culture is supposed 50,000 years old. In less than 100
years it was almost destroyed by the invasion of Anglo-Europeans with
superior fire power.
Today they are making a come-back thanks to legislation that gives
them back some of their land, including some mineral rights. Some
white people told us they are the richest people on the Earth, though
you wouldn't be convinced of this if you walked around
Darwin at night.

The second show was a bit more uplifting, telling about the 'Dreamtime
Story', or creation story of this particular tribe. It involved some
real Disneyland style special effects. Actors wearing the traditional
outfits and paint acted the roles of the two original people: two
brothers one who represented the wet season and one who represented
the dry season. They also represented good and evil. The high tech
part showed how they came out of a cosmic egg, and could create sun,
water, animals, lightning, thunder, and wind.

The final part of the parks agenda was to participate in some spear
throwing, boomerang throwing, and watch demonstrations of digeridoo
playing and the various types of bush food and medicine.

Last we watched an outdoor staged event where dances and fire-making
were demonstrated. At the end, they brought out microphones and sang
their theme song: 'Proud to Be Aborigine'. Although the last part was
a bit corny, the lyrics were good, and the intent was that you would
understand a bit more about their culture. Although it was
sugar-coated, it was a nice state-of-the art experience.

The same day we also visited the Cairns branch of the famous 'Royal
Flying Doctors', who provide routine medical care and emergency care
in the outback. To show you how huge the country is, they are proud to
tell you that because of the 'Flying Doctors', no-one in Australia is
more than two hours away from medical care!

Due to the previously mentioned rainy spell, we spent most of our time
on Tuesday the 16th in the 'Calypso' hostel trying to contact 'Oz' and
figure out our transit. We were on the waiting list for an 'Oz Bus',
and had no idea when they would be leaving Cairns. We spent most of
the last day in Cairns waiting for the bus. We were off the wait list,
but still couldn't find out for sure what time they were leaving. Doug
used the time to write the second part of the Indonesia letter. We
still had 'heaps' of time to sit and wait to hear from the bus folks.
We took turns going for walks around the motel strip of Cairns.

Finally we were rushed onto the hostels shuttle bus and taken to the
large green 'Oz Experience' bus, bound for Mission Beach. The road
south had been closed due to flooding and a big mudslide. It took
until about 4PM that afternoon to clear those obstacles. Because we
were late, they made us stay at their chosen hostel in Mission Beach,
Scotty's, where ate well, but never saw the beach. The main reason was
that it started pouting rain minutes after we arrived.

The next morning we all piled on the bus early, at 8:00, and went as
far as the Tully river, where the road was deeply flooded. Here we
waited until 3:30 PM (about 7 hours), watched 2 movies, waded in the
flood waters up to our knees, and ate meat pies at a tackle-bait and
gas station. We were in the rainiest part of Australia, where it
supposedly rains 360 days of the year.

Tully is a sugar cane growing region. They even have a special
narrow-gauge miniature railway used to transport the cane. We read in
the paper later, that Tully wants to build a 'big something' on the
scale of the pyramids in Egypt to attract tourists. Suggestions were
to make a 'Big Banana', a 'Big Cane Toad', and even a 'Big
Backpacker', which would serve as a backdrop for photo taking. Maybe
they should use the money to build a higher bridge over the river. But
then again, the tourist would just drive by.

When the water level had dropped sufficiently we got through and went
as far as Townsville. The bus went on to Airlie Beach. We were headed
for 'Magnetic Island', named by Captain Cook, whose compass went
berserk when he sailed by it. We made the last ferry boat of the day
to the island. Once on the island, we took the local bus, driven by an
eccentric older guy, to 'Coconuts Beach Backpackers Resort'. We had
signed up in advance to stay there. Once there we found out that our
rooms were in dilapidated 'camp-o-tels': tents on a fiberglass
platform that resemble space capsules. The tent area was on a cliff
overlooking some incredibly scenic rocks and sand beaches. We flopped
our backpacks down and went to the disco/bar area for a $5 barbecue.
They have one every night. This turned out to be Saint Patricks Day,
so we downed our food with a jug of green beer. After this we walked
down to the beach and swung in the hammocks watching the stars and
feeling the warm dry breeze.

The next day we had our first sunny day in Australia. Magnetic Island
has some of the best weather in Queensland - it can be raining buckets
in Townsville and still be dry on 'Maggie'. We mostly hung out by the
pool that day, trying to avoid the sun as much as possible. Later in
the afternoon we did a 'Koala Walk' with a group of people from the
hostel. We were shuttled up to a rocky hill area called the 'Forts'.
Here we walked along looking up into the trees for the elusive koalas.
We never saw any, but we did get some interesting history lessons, and
had some fantastic vistas.

The Forts is an area that was used in WWII as a plane spotting area.
There are military lookout posts built on top of the peaks. During the
war, women as well as men inhabited them, and watched for Japanese
planes which were doing air-raids against nearby Townsville.

On our last night on Magnetic Island, we were visited by a 'common
brush-tailed possum'. Becca thought it was a wombat, but those are
actually much larger and resemble pigs. Doug was passed out on his
bed, though he had seen the creatures crawling around on the
footbridge to the camp, and in the locked kitchen area.

Becca woke when the possum was rustling around near the plastic food
bag by her head. Although in the US we would never have slept with
food in the tent, we didn't think we were really camping. Becca tried
to get the possum out of the tent, but it took alot of work, and the
possum came back three times. It even returned when she put the food
in the built-in cooler in the camp-o-tel's floor. Finally it gave up
and left.

The next day we headed off to Townsville to pick up the OZ bus to
Airlie Beach. We made it to Townsville by 10 AM, as the early
Northbound OZ bus was getting ready to pull out. He told us that the
2PM Southbound bus wasn't running. Instead, we'd have to spend the
night there. So we booked into the YHA hostel across the river, and
napped. That afternoon we went to Townsvilles excellent 'Great Barrier
Reef Aquarium'. We sat through almost all their interpretive 'tours',
and learned about lots of venomous creatures that lurk in the water.
Box Jellyfish, Stone Fish, Scorpion Fishes, sea snakes, and  Sharks.
It's enough to make you give up swimming. Their best exhibit is a
miniature version of the 'Great Barrier Reef', which is 85% self
sustaining. They use algal filters to clean the water and add  back
oxygen. The only thing they add is some zooplankton to maintain the
proper ecological balance.

They also have shark and predator tank with a mock-up of a local
luxury liner shipwreck. Without ever putting on a dive mask you can
experience wreck diving with lots of friendly reef sharks, stingrays,
a sea turtle named 'lucky' (having survived so many shark attacks),
and even a giant 260 lb. grouper.

Townsville itself is interesting due to the refurbished Victorian
'mining town' architecture, dating back to the late 1800's. According
to our Lonely Planet guide, although they've dumped millions into
rejuvenating Townsville, the tourists are staying away in droves. When
we were there, it seems to be rather busy considering it's still the
wet season.

We caught the bus at 6AM the next morning. The pick-up stop for the OZ
bus just happened to be at the ferry port, by the main taxi stand.
About a hundred drunken young Australians were waiting for their ride
home as the sun was coming up. It was a typical Saturday morning.

We felt somewhat safer due to heavy police presence. However, a few
drunken sods managed to approach our little group and mumble some
genuine Australian gibberish. One guy just passed out on the sidewalk.
Another guy was zig-zagging toward us. We were standing by a bunch of
shopping carts near a fence. As he approached the obstacles he veered
to the left miraculously missing them.

Arriving in Airlie Beach, about 9:30, we were booked into a hostel by
the OZ bus folks (who get a commission for doing the booking). The
room was behind a restaurant called "Morocco's", near the dumpsters.
We took it, but grumbled because it was particularly seedy and
overpriced at $40. At night, we got a free jazz concert, since we were
10 feet behind a covered outdoor bar area. The jazz stopped as the
rain began to fall, endangering the jazzmen with electrocution. Later,
the disco at 'Beaches' bar and grill down the street woke Doug up
until it stopped booming around 2AM. We were not happy campers.

The next day we left on what has been the highlight of the Australian
experience, thus far. We had booked a 3 day, 2 night sailing trip on a
maxi-yacht, racing sailboat through the Whitsunday Islands. The boat,
called 'Matador', is the largest maxi ever built. It's 85 feet long
and about 15 feet wide in the middle. Normally when racing it has a
crew of 28. With the tourists, plus the 4 person crew we had 20.

We could write a chapter on this trip alone. So we'll summarize: We
had some great snorkeling, although the visibility was not great. For
this reason we decided not to do a dive trip just yet. The wind on the
first and second day was very light (10 knots), and as a result we
mostly motored between snorkeling spots. On the third day we had
enough wind to almost get the rail in the water, heeling at a 45
degree angle. The passengers have to work on this boat. It takes eight
people on the 'coffee grinders' to raise and trim the sails.

Along with anything good, usually bad luck follows. This time it was
our faithful little camera, with fell on the deck and became history.
We bought a new replacement when we returned, but will have no photos
of the real sailing.

Upon returning, we moved to the 'Bush Village Resort', which is a much
nicer, and less expensive hostel. It also is a care center for
abandoned and injured Kangaroos and Wallabys.  We got up early this
morning to take part in the 7AM bottle feeding. Becca got to hold a 7
month old wallaby in a terrycloth pouch, in her arms. They also had
some kick-boxing kangaroos who like to jump up at you, grabbing you
with their forepaws. Once they have you, they sit up on their tails
and kick you with their hind feet. They are really just being
friendly, playing. However, kicking people is a bad habit, which they
are trying to discourage. A punching bag has been set up for them to
use instead, so we were told to lead them to the bag whenever they
tried to kick us.

That's it for now. If the bus is running, we are headed south tomorrow
toward a cattle ranch in a place called Dingo in the outback.

Thats all for now...

Becca and Doug
 
 
 

==
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Mon, 12 Apr 1999 21:26:40 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in Australia (Part 2)
     To:
        jenatkins@home.com

                                                        Add Addresses
 
 
 

Hello again, this time from beautiful Sydney.

Highlights
----------
Staying with friends from earlier in the trip
Dingo cattle station
Nimbin ('Alternative' Capital of Australia)
Shearing a sheep at the Dag Sheep Station
Riding the wild ewe at the Dag Sheep Station
Great Ocean Road drive
Melbourne Zoo Platypusary
Getting our lost address book back
 

Lowlights
---------
Rain and cold weather in Sydney.
Losing the address book.
Too much driving (Melbourne to Sydney)
Historical Village in Canberra
 

When we left off last, we were heading out of Airlie Beach following
our the great sailing trip out to the Whitsunday's.

We traveled by 'Oz Experience' down to Sydney, in as direct a manner as
is possible with 'Oz': 6 days of bus travels to some interesting and
offbeat places that the express busses don't cover.

One of the places was Dingo, way out in the middle of nowhere) where we
stayed over night Namoi Hills Cattle station where we learned to crack
stock whips, throw boomerangs, played the digeridoo, ate cakes and
billy tea, and rode on the back of a cattle truck.

One of the highlights of this ranch was when they took us out to see
the stock. We were herded onto the back of a cattle truck, and driven
out along a bumpy road to a spot where some of the cattle were doing
their thing: standing and staring at a bunch of tourists in a cattle
truck. They were Brahmin cattle, a breed from India, which are better
suited to the dry conditions of Australia. The Brahmins have a natural
defense to some of the ticks and other insects that infest these parts.
 

Another highlight was when the 'Jackaroo' (Aussie Cowboy) took us out
to a deserted spot, got us off the truck and pulled out his hunting
rifle and 12 gauge shotgun. For free, he offered to shoot some buckshot
through any articles of clothing we might have had. We didn't take him
up on it, party because we don't have any spare clothing, although Doug
does have a silk jacket that is starting to get that 12 gauge buckshot
look to it.

Later that night they had a feed, some country line dancing lessons
(straight out of Texas), and some genuine Aussie drinking games. Near
the end of the evening (for us anyway), they played the Coconuts song
'I Believe in Miracles', and the losing team from the drinking game did
the 'Full Monty', much to the delight of the women who snapped photos
and cheered.
At this point we retired to our bunkbeds. We believe the party went
well into the night.

After Dingo, we went back to the coast to Hervey Bay. Since we got in
late, we checked into the YHA, and out the next morning.
 

Back on the Bus (Sat. March 27th) we headed to Nimbin, which is an
inland hippy mecca inland from Byron Bay. On the way we went through
the 'Gold Coast' south of Brisbane.  Surfers Paradise is the main town
on the Gold coast. It resembles a high-rise beach town like Daytona
Beach Florida. It's surrounded by amusement parks, and theme parks
including a Warner Bros. Studio tour.

They market it really heavily to Japanese tourists, and in fact the
street signs are in both English and Japanese! This is not surprising
given the proximity to Japan. Bad feelings about WWII have long since
been forgotten here. Surfers Paradise was recently voted 'Best Beach in
the World', by some magazine (probably Australian). It does have nice
sand and surf, but there are hundreds of miles of beautiful beach on
this coast, so the title is probably more hype than reality. The town
should be renamed 'Spenders Paradise' since most of it is really
upscale shopping.

Heading inland, we crossed into a hilly green area with wonderful
mountain cliffs that were sacred to Aboriginal travelers. By dark we
arrived in Nimbin.
We stayed at a laid back hostel called 'Granny's Farm'. We knew it was
hippy country when the manager said: "OK, who wants to sleep in the
train?". They have an old train car, which is a very popular dwelling
among the hip-folks all over Nimbin.

The town of Nimbin is a quaint old Aussie country town that was invaded
by 'Alternative' people back in 1973 after the 'Aquarian Festival'
which was organized by a bunch of students from Sydney. This festival
transformed Nimbin from a declining dairy town into a 'back to the
land' counter-cultural, communal living center.

We took a tour of the area to see how some of the local sights, and how
the inhabitants of Nimbin are doing things a bit differently than the
rest of Australia. 'Permaculture' is a name for the back to the land
techniques of sustainable agriculture.  We visited the Djanbung
Gardens, a permaculture education center set up by disciples of Bill
Mollison, the guy who literally wrote the book on permaculture.

A permaculture farm isn't very impressive to look at. In fact it looks
like an disorganized mess. But every detail from the location of the
chicken coops under the grape vines, to the types of trees, and their
relation to the septic waste pools is well thought out, and designed
with microbiology and recycling in mind.

After this we drove down 'Alternative Way'  to visit the 'Rainbow Power
Company', an alternative power generating station.  They promote the
use of various alternative methods of electrical generation: Solar,
Water Power, bio mass methane, and other natural ways to generate
power. They sell the equipment used for individual homes to detach from
the conventional power grid. Any excess electricity is then sold back
to the power company.

We also went to some of the remote valleys where the communes are. Some
of the residents have a reputation for growing illicit green leafy
stuff. However we didn't see any. But we were solicited twice on the
main street later.

Finally we went back in time to 1973, to the main street of Nimbin
where we looked at the brightly colored murals which cover almost every
store front in the town. It looks like a set from an old western movie,
except that everything is painted with day-glow psychedelic colors.
Nimbin's tiny, so the effect is even greater. The place oozes with
counter-cultural atmosphere: there is a local museum that looks like a
someone's attic: lots of hippy paraphernalia, newspaper clippings, old
VW vans, love beads and psuedo-aboriginal art.

After Nimbin we drove on through Byron Bay to Bellingen to spend the
night. Byron Bay is so popular with young 'counterculture' beach goers,
campers and backpackers, that there were no accommodations left there.
It's also the easternmost point in Australia, so it's very popular to
hike up to the famous lighthouse and watch the first sun come up over
Australia.

Bellingen was another cute town we stayed in just for one night. We
arrived late and ate another YHA $5 'Aussie Barbie': a long thin
sausage cooked on a grill served with cole-slaw and lettuce and a slice
of white bread. Since we had no other option, we went with tube steak
again.

In the morning we did a hike around the town to get milk for our cereal
and to see the famous Bellingen Flying Foxes: immense bats that are
found in great number on an island across the river from the YHA
hostel.

Next, we bussed inland to Nundle, stopping off in the 'New England'
area to see some of the rain forest, and a few waterfalls. The weather
had turned cold and grey. We stopped in Armidale, a beautiful town with
great Victorian architecture and home of the University of New England
for lunch.

Finally we arrived at our place to stay near Nundle: the Dag Sheep
Station. 'Dag' is an Aussie term for the dried shit on the bottom of a
sheep. It's also used as an adjective: 'daggy', which is kind of like
'shitty', but more endearing.

We grabbed a bed in the bunk house and headed out to the corral to hear
about sheep farming from an old sheep shearer. First there was a sheep
dog demonstration: The little back type of Aussie sheep dog that is.
The sheep are extrememly stupid, and the dogs seem to enjoy biting at
their heels and even jumping up on top of them. The stockman controls
the dogs with a series of whistles.

After this it was off to the sheep shearing shed where he offered free
haircuts to anyone that wanted one. Only one person took him up on the
offer: A young Dutch guy with a full head of blonde hair. What he ended
up with was the Nazi skinhead look. Electric sheep shears are not
designed to leave anything behind.

After this a demonstration of how to capture and shear a sheep was
done. The sheep are very docile once they are flipped on their backs or
sat up on their bums. After the demo, we were all given a chance to do
some shearing. Becca decided 'what the hell', and took up the shears,
while Doug took photos. Some people hardly cut off any wool, for fear
of hurting the sheep, but Becca did a great job of getting down to the
skin to remove the fleece. She thinks that past experience with a cast
saw helped.

That night it was a great Mutton meal at the cook house followed by a
rides on a 'bucking ewe', a 50 gallon barrel covered with sheep-skins,
and reins, hung from the rafters by ropes. Each guy or gal got their go
on the ewe. When the rider is on the 'ewe' four big guys would start to
pull on the ropes to make the rider fall off. Both of us did a brief
ride. Doug did pretty well. He was in a 3 way tie for the longest ride
7 seconds. Becca was able to hang on for 4 seconds, the longest ride of
any woman.

The next day we left Dag for Sydney. The main stop was at a wine
tasting area in the Hunter Valley where we sampled some of Australia's
finest wine. After the wine tasting we noticed that the little green
notebook (Becca's address and expense book) was missing. Doug had left
it at the News agency back in Muswellbrook, while buying a telephone
card to call ahead for hostel bookings. We eventually got it back,
thanks to the accommodating bus drivers from OZ, who picked it up three
days later.

We arrived in Sydney crossing the famous Harbor Bridge around sundown.
We headed for our hostel 'Rucksack Rest' in Potts Point, north of the
notorious Kings Cross red light district, and walking distance from the
Botanical Garden and Opera House. The weather when we arrived was
clear, warm and beautiful. The next day that changed.

We spent the next 4 nights in Sydney seeing the sights when the weather
permitted. We saw the botanical gardens, the Opera House, Chinatown,
Darling Harbor, and the Rocks. Part of the time it rained. The weather
turned to torrential downpour. We spent one whole day indoors at the
hostel, and the rest of them in museums, and shopping.

We decided to travel down to Melbourne on an express bus to escape the
rotten weather, and visit our friends Rob and Andrea who live and work
there. One thing we didn't plan on was the Easter holiday. All rental
cars were taken, and we were lucky to get on the overnight bus Saturday
night. Rob and Andrea were out of town for the weekend, so we had a few
nights in Melbourne at the 'St. Kilda Coffee Palace' Hostel. The
weather was much better.

After arriving Sunday morning we spent the afternoon walking along the
Esplanade in St. Kilda, and strolling along one of Melbourne's best
beaches. Since Melbourne is on an immense bay, there is no surfing
beach nearby, as in Sydney. But St. Kilda is charming, and older, and
resembles Berkeley in some ways.

Monday we met up with Belinda and Veronica, two women we had met in
Morocco. Belinda was visiting Veronica for the weekend in Melbourne,
but lives in Sydney. We had cappuchinos at an outdoor cafe, and made
plans to stay with Belinda when we returned to Sydney. It was great to
see them, but the time went by all too fast.

We spent the rest of the day, and the beautiful weather visiting the
Melbourne Zoo.  We don't ever tire of zoos for some reason. The main
purpose was to see if we could get a glimpse of a platypus. We had
tried in Nimbin to see one in the wild, but they are extremely
reclusive.

We entered the Platypusary, a dark quiet room in a building that
resembled a cave.  We observed the signs: "Shhhhh.  My world is a quiet
world". Looking for the platypus in the tank, we saw nothing. Other
people stared into the dark tank and also saw nothing. Finally we gave
up and went into another room to read about the platypus. While we
read, a bratty little boy entered the dark tank room and yelled in a
loud shrill voice: "OK you platypusses, come out and show your
faces!!!" A minute later I walked back in and saw two platypusses
swimming like mad. I called Becca back in and we finally got to see
them: Duck billed, beaver skinned, and paddling around with their
webbed-clawed
forefeet.

The next day we went to the National Gallery of Victoria to take in
some art. Later we took tram rides around Melbourne, exploring the
downtown area: Flinders St. Station, the Swanston and Bourke St.
Pedestrian malls.

Melbourne is very proud of their old trams, which are the as revered as
the cable cars in San Francisco. There is even a tram which has been
converted into a restaurant. The restaurant car drives around Melbourne
taking in the sights while the people dine. (I wonder how much wine is
spilled.) Supposedly they even tried doing a play on a tram. No it
wasn't 'A Street Car Named Desire'. The audience sat in the seats of a
regular car while the actors got on and off at various spots.

That night we stayed with Rob and Andrea, our traveling friends who we
met in India.  Northcote is an older inner suburb of Melbourne that is
a town in its own right. It has an older downtown area that seems to be
gentrifing rapidly. The businesses cater to older people and young
families. It has some great Victorian 'terrace houses', and a grand old
city hall.

Wednesday we relaxed a bit, and finally made it into Melbourne to see
Fitzroy garden and Captain Cooks Cottage (moved from England to
Melbourne). We did a few more tram rides to see more Victorian
Architecture and then back to Northcote.

Thursday we picked up a rental car, which we had rented for a week and
headed down the coast to the 'Great Ocean Road'. This is the Australian
equivalent of Highway 1 in California south of San Francisco. It was
built over 14 years between 1918 and 1932 as a memorial to the soldiers
who died in WWI, and as a means of employing the soldiers who didn't
die in WWI. It's a great drive, and was made even better by the fact
that we weren't on a tourist bus. We stopped whenever and wherever we
wanted. It was a great feeling to be driving a car again, especially in
this remote and beautiful area.

We stopped along the way at the Aires Inlet to see the scenic Spit
Point lighthouse. Due to our late start we drove as far as Apollo Bay,
and stayed at the Pisces Caravan Park.

Caravan Parks are known in the US as RV parks. In Australia, they are
almost villages of caravans (trailers), tents, cabins, and camp sites.
This one was really clean, had good facilities (Becca even got to watch
ER!), and a backpackers lodge built into the main building. Because it
doesn't advertise itself as a 'backpackers', we had the 6 bed dorm room
all to ourselves.

The next day we went from Apollo Bay to Port Fairy, the end of the
Great Ocean Road. We stopped in the Cape Otway National Park and did a
brief rain-forest walk. We stopped along the 'Shipwreck Coast' south of
Cape Otway to Port Fairy.

Along the way we stopped photos of all the famous rock formations: The
Gibson Steps down to the beach, near  some rocks known as the 'Twelve
Apostles' (formerly known as the 'Sow and Piglets'); The London Bridge
- a formerly double arched bridge formed from wave action undermining
the limestone peninsula. In 1990 one of the arches collapsed, leaving
some amazed and lucky tourists stranded on the far end. They were later
rescued by helicopter; The Bay of Islands, which is really a  whole lot
of the same.

We continued on to Port Fairy, a town formerly known as Belfast, which
has an Irish look to it. We then headed inland on our way back to
Melbourne. We decided to get off the road a little to see some of the
countryside, and maybe find some interesting old towns. We drove
through some old farm towns into an area that resembled Nebraska - flat
as a pancake. Finally through some rolling hills and on back to
Melbourne.

Back in Melbourne, we arrived late, and watched a "Footy" game with
Rob. Footy is Aussie Rules Football, which can be described as a
combination of American Football and Rugby (though any Australian will
argue this is not true). The ball looks like an American football, but
less pointy. It can be run for 10 meters, laterally passed (hand pass)
or punted (kicked). Kicking it through the goal post is 6 points. This
game is not designed for the American Sports TV Mafia. It has lots of
NONSTOP action - 30 minutes at a time. Most American football players
are simply not in good enough shape to think about playing footy

Saying our goodbyes to Rob and Andrea, we packed up and left north-east
bound along the coast to Lakes Entrance. We spent the night at a cheap
and clean YHA hostel, and took a morning walk along the 90 mile beach:
a 90 mile uninterruped white sand barrier beach.

Heading inland to Canberra, we headed up through an immense forest of
Eucalyptus, and into the dryer tablelands outside of Canberra.

Canberra is a completely planned city. It was designed by an American
named Walter Burley Griffin. Because of squabbling between Sydney and
Melbourne over which city should be the capital, a compromise was
struck: A site was selected in 1908 halfway between Sydney and
Melbourne that had no real history. The only real historical building
in Canberra is a farm house that is smack dab in the middle of town:
Blundel's Farmhouse.

The various nations of the world constructed their emmbassies in the
native architectures of their country. For example, the US embassy is a
red-brick colonial mansion meant to look as if it was moved from
colonial Williamsburn to Canberra. Down the road the Thai embassy
resembles a Thai Wat (minus all the mirrors and bright gold color,
probably due to local building code). The rest of Canberra is modern
and boring beyond belief!

After spending the night at an expensive but elegant YHA, we took a
spin over to the Mint to watch money being made. The mint in Canberra
makes all the money for Australia and come other countries as well
(including the Cook Islands!). It must be said that Australia has some
beautiful coinage, but the paper money looks like monopoly money
printed on plastic paper.

We stopped off at a Bicycle museum on the way out of town as saw some
amazing and ludicrous bicycles: Big Wheelers, Folding Tandems, Triple
Tandems, and a side-by-side tandem.

The drive from Canberra to Sydney was through rolling hills and
countryside. Approaching Sydney we took off on a side route through
some small towns that were once a days horse or train ride from Sydney.
Finally a long ride into Sydney in stop-and-go traffic, getting lost a
couple of times, and finally arriving safe and sound.
Sydney is remarkable in that it has no real north-south freeway.
Australian cities, in general, dont have freeways through the heart of
the city. Perhaps because of this, the people live closer to the middle
of the cities, and have much better mass transit than American cities.

We stayed overnight with our friend Belinda. Her parents are working in
China, and she's house-sitting for them while attending graduate school
and working. They have a lovely house located in a wooded "bush" area
north of town, well connected by train and bus to the center. After a
long nights chat we headed back into Sydney to return the rental car.

So here we are: back in Kings Cross, using the cheap internet services
here.

Tomorrow we leave for New Zealand. We land in Auckland on the North
Island and will somehow travel to the south island and back. We'll keep
in touch with you from there.

No Worries Mate!
 
 

===
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
Date:
        Fri, 7 May 1999 23:25:15 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in New Zealand (part 1)
 
 

Just a short note this time... We're in New Zealand on the south
island. (Sorry if the capitalization looks a bit weird. The shift key
is a bit temperamental on this keyboard.)

We still have a couple of weeks to go here, so we'll try to get off
another letter before we leave. But we have a tight time schedule near
the end of the NZ stint, and internet from Raratonga is a bit
expensive. So, part two may show up sometime after we're back on home
soil.

Highlights (thus far):

* Dolphin watching in the Bay of Islands
* Tramping the Waipoua Kauri Forest
* Caving and Blackwater rafting in the Waitomo Caves
* Lady Knox Geyser and Waitapu Thermal Park
* Tramping on the Able Tasman Coastal Track
* Ice hiking and climbing on the Franz Joseph Glacier
* Fall colors and snow capped Southern Alps.

We arrived in Auckland Wed. April 14th from Sydney on Air New Zealand.
In customs, the agent asked us a long list of questions and finally
came to: "Do you have any hiking boots with you?" Instead of taking the
easy way out, we told the truth and were asked to wait while they
cleaned our boots for us. While we waited we got NZ dollars from an atm
(1 NZ$= .55 US$),  and bought our pre-paid transportation to downtown
Auckland. We asked for the YHA discount, which saved us about 40%. The
YHA card has saved us a bundle in NZ so far.

We took the shuttle to downtown as it began to rain. It was definitely
looking showery, wet and cold outside, and the sun was about to set. We
got off at the Auckland Central Backpackers, a place vaguely
recommended by the Lonely Planet. The place was a real inner city
backpacker ghetto: a huge travel agency, a rooftop bar, complete with
all night disco and happy hour, kitchens that looked both dirty and
heavily used, and some adequate, although grimy rooms. The good news is
that we got into a double, and didn't have to share with anyone. The
bad news was that we were on the 6th floor, the elevator was broken,
and the bar was directly above our room. None of this mattered after a
taste of the fine (and cheap) New Zealand beer...

The next morning looked sunny and bright. We walked down to the ferry
building and looked out over the harbor. Auckland is known for its
sailing, and has quite a few sailboats. In fact the America's Cup in
2000 will be held here. The Kiwi boat that stole the trophy in San
Diego is called "Black Magic", in reference to the New Zealand All
Blacks rugby team.
Kiwi's  are quite proud of this fact, and we were constantly reminded
of it by bus drivers throughout the country.

By afternoon the sun had turned to wind and rain as a 'southeaster'
clobbered us. We spent the rest of the day walking around the downtown
shopping for rain ponchos for out trek. We found an expensive outdoor
shop and paid way too much for some plastic ponchos. Ironically we
never used them.

Friday we switched rooms, having learned a few lesson in acoustics from
the 7th floor bar. After this we took a longer walk up a hill past the
University and through 'The Domain', a huge central park to the
Auckland museum and war memorial.  We got a little lost and walked
completely around the edges of the Domain past lovely landscaped ponds,
and a large cricket ground. Finally we made it to the museum before
more showers could drench us again.

The Auckland museum was good, but in retrospect not as good as the
national museum, Te Papa, in Wellington. It had a good reproduction of
a Moa, an extinct oversized flightless bird that used to roam
throughout New Zealand. Since New Zealand had split off from the other
continents that made up Gonwanaland some zillion years back, it had no
predators- thats right- no mammals at all! Birds ruled the roost, and
evolved to immense sizes. The largest Moa were up to 4 meters (about
12.5 feet) tall. They were hunted into extinction by the first large
scale colonization of
New Zealand, by the Maori, who arrived from Polynesia
around 1350.

The museum also had some good Maori artifacts, and a nice exhibit on
the history of war in New Zealand including wars between the Maori, the
wars between the British and the Maori, and the ANZAC (Australia New
Zealand Army Corps) efforts in the Boar War, WWI and WWII.

Saturday the 17th we headed north to the Bay of Islands to the town of
Paihia. We picked a quiet little place on the north end of town, the
Mayfair,
that boasted a spa pool among its amenities. The place was immaculately
clean, and eerily quiet. Looking out of the bathroom window you could
see horses grazing on lush green grass, and a hillside of tree ferns.

We inadvertently picked a place where the treaty of Waitangi was drawn
up  and signed by 46 Maori chiefs and the British in 1840. This
document effectively gave sovereignity over New Zealand to the English
Crown, while allowing the Maoris to retain ownership of the land. It
also was supposed to give them full rights as British citizens. To this
day it's still a controversial document, which establishes many of the
rights and priveliges of the Maori, as well as British settlers.

Sunday we looked around town, and took the ferry over to Russell, which
bills itself as 'Romantic Russell'.
While in Russell we walked some local tracks and took in the free
historical museum video.  It's an historic place, which was the first
capital of New Zealand, and the site of a famous flag pole which was
cut down by the Maori and replaced by the British four times.

After the third time, the British decided to take of the wigs and
gloves and fight like men. In 1845 the government sent it a garrison to
Russell where the Maori leader Hone Heke was threatening to chop down
the flagpole for the fourth time.

The Maori's staged a diversionary siege of Russell from the south and
attacked simultaneously from the west. While the troops rushed off to
defend the town below, Hone Heke chopped it down the fourth time. The
Brits were forced to evacuate to ships lying off anchor aat the
settelemnt, and decided to raze the captured town with cannons from the
HMS Hazard. Finally the British prevailed, and Russell became a
flourishing whaling town.

Russell today is very quaint, full of seaside Bed and Breakfasts and
has at least one backpacker place. It looks quite a bit like a New
England seaside village from the late 19th century. The ferry ride to
Russell takes about 20 minutes and costs only $2.00 each way.

Later that day we also took a 3 hour return hike to Haruru falls, where
we met a group of fellow travellers none of whom knew each other. We
had some great converstations and exchanged travel stories as we walked
through the ponga forest.

Monday we took our 'Swim with the Dolphins' trip. We boarded the boat
not knowing what to expect. The skipper, a Dutch guy in his 30's, made
no promises, but it was a beautiful calm day (unlike the windy day
before).

As we headed out into the Islands we saw a whale spouting water over on
the horizon. The boat stopped to wait for the whale to reappear, when
suddenly a large pod of common dolphins (1-2 meters long with yellow
markings) came out of nowhere. They were jumping and swimming around
the boat, and suddenly we were stripping off our pants and wind jackets
and putting on fins, masks and snorkels.

We were told to jump in the water and swim like hell. As we did, we
discovered the water was as cold as ice. My snorkel fell off as I hit
the water and sank. Other people paniced in the cold water and
accidently tried to breath it. By the time we splashed and made our way
to the pod, they disappeared. So we returned to the boat, chilled,
excited, but a bit disappointed.

The captain then told us that they had spotted a big pod of bottlenosed
dolphins, but warned us that they had calfs. This meant that we werent
able to swim with them. Since we were all freezing, that came as a bit
of a relief.

The bottlenosed dolphins were very playful, and were jumping and
leaping around the boat. On the bow of the boat it was possible to lay
prone, facing the water and be a foot or so away from the dolphins.
They would occaisionally swim on their sides and appeared to be
watching us as well.

After an hour or so, we headed back satisfied with the dolphin
watching, even if we didn't really get to swim with them. The capain
said "I just want you to know, this is not usual. The number of
dolphins you saw today was alot more than normal".

The next day, Tues April 20th, we signed up for a kayacking half-day
adventure. The tide was perfect, and the weather was fine for
kayacking. We paddled up
the Waitangi River through a mangrove forest to Harura Falls where we
took turns paddling into the waterfall as far as we could. The falls
were running very high, so it was a bit exciting and disorienting to be
paddling like mad straight into a waterfall.

After all this excitement we needed to relax a bit, and did that in a
town called Omapere, on the western coast of the far north peninsula.
Omapere is on Hokianga harbor, a large, natural harbor that is a desert
on one side, and a lush rain forest on the other side.

In Omapere or nearby Opononi, it's possible to organize a trip to go
boogey boarding on the giant sand dunes on the north side of the
harbor, straight down into the water. We thought of doing this, but
instead chose to go on a hike through the headlands  overlooking the
entrance of the harbor.

We hiked along a beautiful sandy beach with tall rocky
sandstone cliffs and up to the sight of an old signal station, where in
the late 19th century during a logging boom, the station keeper would
raise nautical flags indicating the tides and conditions of the bay.

The next day the kindly owner of the Globetrekers Backpackers hostel
gave us a ride to the trail head of the Waipoua Kauri Forrest where we
saw the giant Kauri trees and walked a 6 Km muddy track through some of
New Zealands primal forests.

On the way back to the hostel we hitchhiked. Hitch-hiking is done by
nearly everyone in New Zealand. In fact, if someone sees you walking
down a highway, the normal protocal is to stop and ask you if you need
a lift. This really brings me back in time a bit. New Zealand is like
that. You might as well be in the midwest in 1955. It was Becca's first
hitch-hiking experience. We were picked up by a kindly older English
couple from Cornwall, who were on a holiday. The man was a retired
airline pilot. His wife was the copilot, and had a very detailed
topographical
map that only British people would bother using.

On the way back to Omapere, we stopped off to see the biggest kauri
tree, Tane Mahuta, the 'God of the Forest'. This is one big tree. I
jotted down some statistics (just in case you collect statistics):
Trunk Height 17.7 meters. Girth 13.6 meters, Height 51.5 meters. Volume
244.5 cubic meters. Kauri's are big, but not as beautiful as the
Sequoia Sempervirens (ie., California Redwoods.) They are however
sacred to the Maori, and are now protected.

While in Omapere, we were very happy. We had beautiful weather, lovely
sunsets, great scenery, and stayed with some great people at a friendly
clean hostel. We could have stayed for a week, but decided to move on
to see the rest of teh island.

We'll have to finish this later. As usual, it's been too long, and
there are far too  many stories.

By the way, Happy Mothers Day, to all of you moms or
mothers to be out there!

Doug and Becca
 

===
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/
 

Date:
        Sat, 15 May 1999 03:06:02 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in New Zealand (Part 2)
 
 
 

Continuing with our letter ...

We were heading down to Auckland after a warm restful couple of days
tramping around the Kauri forests.

After another memorable noisy night in Auckland, we boarded a bus for:

* Waitomo (home of the glow worm caves)

We arrived by the Newmans bus, and chose a small 'ski lodge' (chalet
style) place that had a big dog (old golden lab) to pet and a wood
stove burning logs. Outside they had a friendly sheep that stuck his
head through a hole in the fence to let you pet him. Actually he was
probably looking for food, but let's pretend he was just being
friendly. They also had a really ugly looking pig that did the same
thing. He gets the food scraps from the kitchen.

Later the same evening we were off for a caving adventure that we wont
soon forget. We boarded a van driven by a mad Maori guide, who drove
like a bat out of hell and apologized to anyone who felt ill. We went
up a windy dirt road to a shed where we changed into our swimming suits
and put on a wet suit, along with miners helmets and white gum boots.
As the sun set, we walked along a steep hilly cow pasture to a hole in
the ground, where we took turns climbing down a steel ladder. Once
inside the cave we quickly discovered it was flooded. We had to wade in
up to our hips in ice cold water, and move through some very narrow
spots. This was made all the more difficult by the fact that the bottom
of the cave was *not* flat. There were quite a few things to trip over
and deep crevices, so it was just a matter of time before we were all
getting wet. Eventually we came to a pool of water and waded in until
it was over our heads. It was at this point we tried to swim. The guide
neglected to tell us to just float on our backs (buoyed by the wet
suits). Instead, Becca tried to flutter kick, and lost one of her
boots.
Unfortunately, the water wasn't clear. The guide made several attempts
to dive down into the 'black water' to find the missing boot. In the
end he gave up and gave Becca one of his boots to wear, and walked the
remaining part.

The highlight of this trip was floating along an underground river on
inner tubes. On the ceiling were thousands of tiny 'glow worms', which
produce a dim blue light. The cave ceiling and walls look just like a
starry night.

Although this experience was great, it was hard to enjoy it to the
maximum degree possible because the  water was sooo cold. Most of the
people in the group were shivering and some people reported their feet
and hands going numb. I must confess we were cold.

* Rotarua

The highlight of Roturua is the Waiotapu Thermal Reserve, where you can
see various pools of hot water, boiling mud, minerals, and toxic pools
of all variety of colors. They also have an 'old faithful' type of
geyser there. It goes off every day at 10:15 AM exactly. Even during
daylight savings time! How is that possible? Easy! They dump in a few
pounds of soap and vol-la! -it erupts. The principle is that the soap
dissolves and changes the surface tension of the water, allowing the
hot water below to boil.  Remember that the next time you are in
Calistoga and want to see the geyser go off. If you're in a rush, just
dump in some suds.

* Napier

Known as the Art Deco City, Napier is home to one of the worlds largest
collection of Art Deco buildings and homes. In 1931 an earthquake and
fire destroyed Napier (and nearby Hastings). Since this happened during
the depression, there were quite a few out of work architects,
construction workers and concrete masons available who were more than
willing to work on rebuilding the town. The results are, well, neat.
Obviously it looks alot better when a whole town is done in the same
style. Some of it is good, and some of it is bad.

We stayed at the YHA on the beach. The wind was howling outside as a
southeaster was belting the coast. The beach there is entirely rock and
pebble, which is probably why its also called the Nice of New Zealand.
The YHA was crawling with high school aged kids from Wellington who
were all keen to be traveling together away from home. Actually they
were pretty well behaved, but lacked basic cooking knowledge - like how
to make toast with canned spaghetti, etc.

* Wellington

The two or three things we did here were:
- Walking around the town and taking the town 'cable car' (funicular
railway) to the botanic garden;
- Looking at the 'beehive', their national parliment building that
looks like a piece of rubbish from outer space that landed next to a
perfectly good neo classical building.
- Taking in the 'Te Papa' national museum. This museum is brand new,
but is hands down the best museum in New Zealand, and believe me, we've
seen them all!  Some of the exhibits are more like exhibits at a Worlds
fair. In fact, one of them was from the Barcelona exhibition in 1992.

The best part was an exhibit in which you sat in old furniture in what
was supposed to be a second hand shop, filled with the bric-a-brac. A
big video screen showed a street scene filmed from inside a real second
hand shop. The owner pulls down the outside window for the night and
the sun sets.

Slowly the  appliances inside the shop come to life, and the screen
shows scenes from New Zealand's short history in a blindingly rapid
show that leave you smiling. It showed a country that has been through
world wars, baby booms, the depression, the sixties, civil rights
protests, earthquakes, fires, cyclones, and is still grinning ear to
ear, like Sir Edmund Hillary, on the front of a $5 bill. Its hard to
not like the place.

The museum also detailed the various immigration waves most all of them
from various parts of England, Scotland Wales and Northern Ireland). It
showed how New Zealand really filled in a role for Great Britain as a
place for its burgeoning population to overflow to. It's no wonder the
New Zealanders (or Kiwi's as they call themselves), are also known as
the 'South Sea Poms'. They really brought everything with them too: The
plants, livestock, and even the game animals (some are now considered
pests.) The weather is pretty much like England's- actually a bit
better, but don't tell anyone from England about it.

After Wellington, we headed onto an InterIslander Ferry and left for
Picton on the South Island. We had a smooth crossing on a beautiful,
clear, but brisk day. We headed across the Cook Straight to the
Marlbourough Sounds. Heading into the South Island is like going into a
different country. Unlike the north, there is little Maori Influence,
and the geography is much more extreme. The north Island is primary
volcanic, while the south island has been formed by earthquakes and the
upheaval of the Pacific Plate by the Australian Plate.

* Nelson

After arriving in Picton, we boarded the bus for Nelson. Nelson is the
closest town to the Abel Tasman National Park where we did a short
trek. The area around Nelson has lots of vineyards and fruit farms.
It's also a majop hop growing area. It has the sunniest climate in New
Zealand, which is one of the reasons we picked the Abel Tasman Walk.

* Abel Tasman National Park

The Abel Tasman Coastal Track is one of New Zealand's 'Great Walks'.
It's probably the most popular, and is known for the bumper to bumper
foot traffic as well as the spectacular views, pristine beaches, and
clear water. Because we were doing it out of season, we avoided the
crowds. And for a change we got lucky with the weather: clear, sunny
days and cold nights.

Abel Tasman National Park is named for the Dutchman who had first
discovered New Zealand. He had sailed up the coast after first sailing
around Australia (and of course Tasmania!). According to our bus driver
and historical authority of note, Abel Tasman never set foot in New
Zealand. What happened was they met up with some unfriendly Maori on
this very coast we were about to walk. When Tasman spotted the Maori
they were blowing on conch shells. He had his men blow a trumpet call
back, unaware that this was the signal for "attack". The Maori attacked
by boat and killed a few of his men. So Tasman took off and went
farther north and had more unfriendly encounters. All this was made
worse because he had no translators, and the Maori couldn't speak
Dutch.

Captain Cook (English of course), had an advantage: Although the Maori
couldn't speak English, he happened to have a Tahitian on board who
actually could communicate. History is made by these miraculous
coincidences.

We boarded the Abel Tasman Coach Lines for a long twisty ride to Wainui
Bay where we began our trek. We decided to do the trek from North to
South to take advantage of the tides. Because there are three or four
estuarial (ie,. tidal mudflats) crossings, it's wise to look at the
tide table provided by the Department of Conservation before starting
the trek. Otherwise you might find yourself waiting six hours for the
tide to go out in order to continue the trek.

The first day seemed easy, although the track went up several inclines.
The surface of the track seemed to be so well made that it could be
driven on by a wheelchair. (So different from Nepal where the tracks
were sometimes straight up stairways made of rock and mud).  The track
went up hills offering spectacular views of the blue water. Sometimes
it would along cliffs where you could look straight down to the rocks
below. At other times the track was along beautiful yellow sand
beaches.

At the end of the first day we came to a wide estuary. We took off our
hiking boots and wore our 'Teva' sandals (which are miraculously still
with us and working fine). We walked over clamshell encrusted mud flats
to the deep part where we had to wade in up to our knees. The Awora hut
where were to spend the night, was about a kilometer or so across the
flat. By the time we got to the flat, feet freezing, the sun had begun
setting, and the 6 or so strangers sharing the hut where starting to
make their dinners.

The Department of Conservation (DOC) huts are pretty nice, but don't
all have the same amenities. This one had a large common bunk in the
main room with the kitchen, and two bedrooms. In all there was enough
bunk space for 24 people. We were lucky it wasn't full because we
didn't bring a tent. We anticipated that there might be a problem, but
got lucky. Fortunately we didn't have to rent a tent and lug it all
over the place.

The second days hike was not as spectacular as the first, but the
beaches were pristine and nice. The only problem was the sand fleas,
which are really a problem in the summer months (May is Autumn here).
We did get a few bites, but weren't planning on spending much time on
the beaches anyway.

The second night was spent in a place called the Anchorage Hut. This
hut is probably the most crowded hut on the walk, because it's used by
the people who sign up for the $69 kayak overnight trip from the other
end (Marahau).

The hut seemed crowded. There were 24 or so people (max was 26), and
the guest book was full of comments from people who didn't get bunks.
Some guys from Scotland were complaining that they had to spend the
night on the porch, and some Kiwi's responded with something like "Why
don't you $#@% POM's go home to your mum's. You complain like little
kids when you have the least discomfort, while tramping the easiest
track in New Zealand". It was kind of entertaining in a juvenile way.
People say the strangest things to each other in guestbooks. If they
ever met in person, they would probably be a bit more civil. Still it
was polite.

That night we were kept awake by the guy in the bunk next to Becca who
had a particularly persistent snore, and was also having some kind of
bad dream. (Bunks are laid out sardine style, you get a space on the
shelf). After hearing a few other people groaning about the noise level
I reached over to nudge him a little. " FOOK!" he shouted and sat up.
Then he'd go back to sleep and be quiet for a while, and start to snort
and gargle in spittle. On and on this went. He seemed a bit dangerous.
I wasn't sure waking him was all that safe.

In the morning we all looked tired. "I'd like to kill whoever was
snoring" one Welsh girl complained. Suddenly the culprit appeared:
"Good morning!" he said cheerfully. He was no doubt unaware that he had
kept us all up for at least an hour.

Finally we hiked the last leg of the trek (only 3-4 hours), and arrived
in Marahua, and waited with some of the other campers at a nice cafe.
While we sat there we saw a weird bird called a Weka, which would
appear now and then, walking right up to us and then back into the
bush. I found out later that the Weka is a flightless bird, like the
Kiwi, and are relatively rare.

* Franz Josef Glacier

After Nelson we took a scenic bus ride to Franz Josef village to climb
the mighty Franz Josef Glacier. It was named after the Austrian Emporer
Franz Josef by an Austrian explorer. The name just sort of stuck,
though several attempts to give it a more Anglicized name have been
tried.

We booked an all day glacier hike with Franz Josef Glacier Guides, and
showed up bight and early to try on ice walking boots, and to get our
ice axes and Gore-Tex Jackets. After getting all the right sizes and so
forth, we were on a bus up to the glacier. We got a few scientific
talks on what a glacier was etc., and were soon off trudging on ice up
a steep slope.

The New Zealand Glaciers are (The Fox and Franz Josef) are  unique in
the world for being close to the sea. Well except for Alaska.  These
glaciers are fast moving glaciers, probably because they are so close
to sea.

We walked up and down some steep (60 to 70 degree) slopes on footsteps
that were carved into the ice by our guide. We followed him into some
narrow crevices, and finally, like rats in a maze, had to back out. Ice
walking and climbing is actually pretty exciting, though it may not
sound like it at first. This is highly recommended by us for all you
mountaineering types, and even for those like us who never held an ice
axe before.  (Ice axes do indeed make a cool walking stick).

Well that's all for tonight... They are getting ready to close up the
old internet cafe.

Part 3 later, maybe much later. We're off for Raratonga (Cook Islands)
on May 21st for two weeks, then one week in Tahiti and were back in
California!!
 
 
 
 
 
 

===
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Tue, 18 May 1999 21:52:04 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith
 Subject:
        Travels in New Zealand, Part 3
 
 

We are on a time limit of 40 minutes. So let's see how fast we can
write this!

When we last left of we were in Franz Josef Glacier, hiking and
climbing through ice crevices.

We left for Queenstown on the bus, and stopped to see the Fox Glacier
and a great view of Mt. Cook (tallest mountain in New Zealand). After
this the bus climbed up into the Southern Alps. Half way up the bus
driver pulled over and apologized for us having to wait a few minutes.
He was going to switch coaches with the other driver and head back to
Franz Josef to his 'real job': farming. The bus driving is just a
sideline for him.

* Queenstown

Queenstown is situated on a large lake, Lake Wakatipu, next to a
mountain range called "The Remarkables". The Remarkables were dusted
with snow, which made for a scenic backdrop for the T.S.Earnslaw steam
boat which cruises up and down Lake Wakatipu.

It's a pretty scenic location, which gets a year-round stream of
tourists. In the summer it has a reputation as the adreneline capital
of the world, where for a price you can take just about any kind of
death defying risk: from skydiving, to bungy jumping to paragliding to
rafting, to being shot out of a cannon, to riding a pulley 'flying
squirrel' over a canyon, to rolling down a big hill in a plexiglass
bubble.

We were still recuperating from the glacier hike, and didn't have the
motivation to part with hundreds of Kiwi dollars to have our bodies
flung out of airplanes or off bridges. Also it's pretty cold up there
this time of year! We were getting alot of use out of our wool hats,
scarves and gloves, left over from Nepal.
We reserve the right to partake of these adventures on the next trip to
New Zealand.

* Milford Sound and Te Anau

After Queenstown we headed down the road back toward the West coast to
Milford Sound. We had been getting pretty lucky with the weather so
far, but this day was not our lucky day. The coach started to head into
a windy rainy area as we neared the Homer Tunnel. We stopped for
mandatory 'photo stops', and although it was pouring buckets of rain we
dutifully filed off the bus and took photos of ourselves getting rained
on.

In the background there were hundreds of waterfalls. The bus driver
drolly remarked: "You are really lucky to see it in the rain. If it
weren't raining, you wouldn't have half as many waterfalls. In fact
you'd only have 5 or 6".  How many do you need? Certainly in pouring
rain one is plenty.  Still it was impressive.

We boarded the famous "Red Boat" for our 2 hour Milford  Sound cruise
along with hoards of other tourists. The boat captain came on the loud
speaker and said:  "You are really lucky to see it in the rain. If it
weren't raining, you wouldn't have half as many waterfalls."  We
weren't that impressed, because the fog obscured the mountains, and it
seemed at the moment that we weren't going to be able to see more than
50 feet.

Eventually the rain stopped falling, and the fog partially lifted. From
what little you could see, it was pretty impressive. Imagine a second
Yosemite Valley, but instead of being a valley it's twice as deep and
filled half way with sea water. The scale of this fiord is amazing.
Also the weather was frightening: at times it was so windy that people
were getting blown around on the deck, and the waterfalls would flow up
hill (amazing, but true: the wind blows the water sideways at first and
then up a little and back on the walls of the canyon).

There were hundreds and hundreds of spectacular water falls. A winter
storm in Milford sound is not an experience which is soon forgotten.
All too soon we were back at the boat dock getting back on the bus.

We stayed overnight in a place called Te Anau at the YHA. That night,
we had a great roast dinner at one of the local pubs. The next morning,
we did the first section of the Keppler Track, one the Great Walks. We
walked about 10-12K total that day, but it felt like more. The path to
the track went through a wildlife sanctuary and a visitor center run by
the DOC. At the wildlife center we saw some of the rare birds that are
being cared for: Takahe, Pukeko (less rare, but equally  exciting),
Kea, Weka, Red Crested and Yellow Crested Parakeets and many more.
After this we walked through  an ancient Beech forest through 1000 year
old trees, turned around and slogged back to camp.

Part 4 tomorrow ....
 
 
 

===
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/

Date:
        Wed, 19 May 1999 15:18:50 -0700 (PDT)
   From:
        Doug and Becca Rook-Smith   | Block
        address
 Subject:
        Travels in New Zealand (part 4)
 
 
 

Continuing from yesterdays letter ...

We left   for the 'Scottish' city for Dunedin.

* Dunedin

Dunedin is  for Edinburgh, which means the City of Eden! It was settled
mostly by Scottish immigrants, and at one time (during the Gold Rush
days) was the largest city in the country. Dunedin is also known for
it's University, Victorian Buildings,  Distilleries,  Brewery, The
worlds steepest street (Baldwin St.), and the wildlife of the  .

We stayed at the Stafford Gables  a former private hotel (or nursing
home of some sort), that has more strange corridors, passages, and
doorways than the Winchester mystery house, and more gables than the
House of the Seven Gables. According to the guidebooks and local
legend, it's haunted by a friendly ghost. We didn't see any ghosts, but
we did meet a strange spooky old man from Norway who was living in a
room off the dining room.

Dunedin was probably the southernmost point of our journey, 46 degrees
south . In Northern hemisphere equivalents, it was something like the
same as being in Maine, or Seattle, or Scotland. In short it was cold,
and although it rains quite a bit there, we were lucky.

The first day, we took a walk around town and took in some of the great
local architecture including the Victorian train station, the beautiful
 revival First Church ( ), and the University of , which has a great
Victorian hall and enclosure.

Although Dunedin is getting out the water blasters and cleaning up it's
grand old buildings, it's a shame that there was so much building going
on in the 70's and 80's. There are some pretty extreme examples of old
and new next to each other. On the other hand, they've fixed up their
old town hall to the tune of 11 million $, and it looks great. In fact
it won an architectural award. Now Dunedin has discovered that it has
some of the best old architecture in , and this makes it interesting
enough for tourists like us to visit. What's interesting to us is that
there is so little old architecture left in places like Dunedin.

The next day we headed out to the  peninsula. We took an -tour of the
area , the "Twilight Wildlife Conservation Tour",  by bus and by boat.
As you leave the city of Dunedin, flocks of birds appear everywhere.
Mostly they are shags, which are a type of  which look vaguely like
penguins.

We joined up with a 1 hour boat tour given by a company called
"Monarch" tours, in a converted fishing  called the Monarch. The boat
tours the coastline, and goes out past the albatross nesting areas on
the head of the  .

On the tour we saw the following species: Black Shags, Spotted Shags,
Stewart Island Shags, Black Swan, , , and most importantly the
Albatross. Actually from the boat we could see the Albatross chicks
which were high up on a cliff, so that gives you an idea of how large
the birds are.

We later saw some stuffed Albatross in a Museum in . They are much
larger than geese, with  of up to 9 feet, heads the size of a
grapefruit and beaks a foot long. Although they are gliding birds they
can fly up to 115 KM/hour. They look like a huge seagull. We actually
got pretty close to a few "Shy Albatross" (they thought the boat was a
fishing boat, and flew up close to us for a while). But didn't see the
adult "Royal Northern Albatross", which the tour is famous for.

Next we visited a Yellow-eyed Penguin reserve, which resembled a
trench war site- We actually walked in trenches covered in  netting to
get a close view of the rare yellow eyed penguins. They are the rarest
penguin in the world (5-6 thousand total), and only live in New
Zealand. The birds are mostly active around twilight, hence the name "
Tour". While in the trench you can get  2-3 feet of the penguins. The
penguins know you are there and look you straight in the eye. They
don't feel threatened because the people are below ground level.

The "Twilight" tour  tour was actually one of the best parts of the
visit to the South Island, and is well worth doing.

*

After Dunedin, we headed up to nearby  to see the Blue Penguin colony.
Blue eyed penguins come on shore at night, right after dusk. They are
the smallest penguins in the world. They make burrows in the ground,
where they sleep and nest. Although it wasn't the height of the nesting
season, we did see 15 or so "little blue penguins" waddle on shore and
climb up the rocks to the nesting site. At the height of the season,
they get from 200 to 1000 penguins coming on shore each night. A small
wooden grandstand has been erected, and lights put in to facilitate
viewing.

While we were there we spent most of the time shivvering and waiting
for 2-3 penguins at a time to get up the courage to cross the road.
Meanwhile a big black cat crept around behind them on the cliff adding
to the excitement.

*  Christchurch

We ventured further north to  (pronounced "Kroyst-chuch"), which we
were expecting to be more authentically "English" than any city in New
Zealand. The tourist brochuses are full of pictures of punting on the
River Avon past victorian buildings, cute trolleys and of course the
cathedral itself.

When we arrived we were disappointed to find that  appears to have been
heavilly bombed during World War 2. At least that's the excuse they use
in London to explain the hideous 60's and 70's architecture which
predominates the center of the city. Actually no bombs fell, but a good
percentage of the old buildings were torn down to make way for the
square concrete block buildings, and ugly concrete high rises.

We did enjoy the walk to the Art Center (formerly the University of
Canterbury), another mideival looking place complex of buildings now
converted into Yuppy cafe's and clothing shops. From there we visited
the Canterbury Museum, which houses interesting exhibits of Antartic
Exploration, more Maori exhibits, and quite a few specimens of stuffed
birds. After this we walked through the beautiful botanical gardens and
enjoyed the autumn colors which were at their peak. We stopped along
the way to watch the radio controlled model yachts on Lake Victoria.

* Kaikoura

The highlight of a visit to Kaikoura is usually the whale watching.
There are supposedly heaps of sperm whales, dusky dolphins, and other
marine life to see. However, when we were there, the previous nights
storm resulted in the swell being too high to alow for whale watching.
All whale watch trips were cancelled, and the dolphins were also being
shy. Instead we walked out to a fur seal colony and back, and enjoyed
the nice weather.

* Picton

We are here right now, having rested for a day, and done a little
hiking to see the spectacular Queen Charlotte sound. We're waiting for
the ferry back to Wellington. From there we take an all day train up to
Aukland, where we meet our plane for RARATONGA...
 

That's all for New Zealand! We probably wont be sending much until we
get back to the US - due to high costs of telecom. Please feel free to
email us if there are any emergencies, as we will still be getting our
mail infrequently.

Goodbye for now!
 
 
 
 

===
Doug Smith and Rebecca Rook
Somewhere on the road ...
rooksmith@yahoo.com
http://members.theglobe.com/rooksmith/