First Day on Clivia

The days all seem to have melded into one. Every day had the same routine.

Up before sunrise

Wait for Breakfast two minutes after sunrise - sweet coffee and a roll or biscuit if the rolls ran out.

Lunch at 10:30am (no jokes) - meat, rice, spaghetti, beans, coleslaw salad sometimes, water

Dinner at 15:30 (again... no jokes) - meat, rice, beans, no spaghetti and no salad (thats how you distinguish lunch and dinner), water.

We had the same dish for every meal for five days... straight!

Dinner politics: the men sat next to the mens ablutions and the women next to the ladies. Dinner was served in rounds as there were more people than seats available. We always aimed to eat in the last round and I tried to always sit at the ladies table: it`s a lot quieter, better view (sunset and women breast feeding!) and I found the company a lot better.

The posh people (in cabins) ate with the captain below deck... next to the engine room. ha ha ha. No conversation but they did get better food than us that included fruit and dessert!

The pick below is sunrise from the stern. And yes those are showers. Great for when its hot during the day.

Boarding the Clivia

Be prepared - thats my moto. For anything. So with blinding headaches we made prep for the boat trip. The lady from Hotel Fortaleza advised us to buy water for the boat and to get there early to get a good spot (as the Lonley Planet advises).

We bought the equivalent of 10 liters of water each (for five days travel) and got to the boat at about 12:30.

Humph! - The boat has filtered water on board. As much as you can drink in a lifetime. Its from the Amazon. And our boarding time was 17:00. So we sat with all our baggage and ten big bottles of water for a long time.

But we did meet a Brazilian dude who helped us establish our boat boarding status and a German guy, Wolfgang.

At five we were first in line to go through the customs check and almost last to put our hammocks up. While doing so we made friends with Zack, an Aussie guy on his way to Bolivia to do some volunteer work in a National Park before meeting a friend of his.

And that was our gringo party: James, Mianne, Pix, Zack and myself. There was a gringo tour group on their way to Manaus and some other gringos in cabins but we were traveling peasant class so didn`t spend as much time with them.

As they day drew to a close more and more and more and more people started boarding the boat. Much to our surprise. We all thought we had the prime spot as there were very few hammocks around us when we put ours up. By the time we left we had the most crowded section. With the exception of James and Mianne. Good advice - hang your hammock next to the stairwell.

Then we were off. No dinner on night one, glad I had that scrumptious soup for lunch!

"Today we spent preparing for the big boat trip up the Amazon to Manaus for tomorrow. I'll be under the radar for a while. Cheers

As luck would have it the boat we were supposed to go on, the Santarem has problems with the propeller. So the only thing to do is get drunk and wait to bored tomorrow evening on another boat."

Updated - This morning we met a guy named Pix at the breakfast table (breakfast at Hotel Fortaleza is coffee). My first thought was "Whoa, this guys a wild canon". He had tatoos all the way up both arms, on his legs and you could see his entire chest was covered in tatoos. He was explaining to us how he had spent the previous evening drinking cognac with all sorts of exotic shamanic additions, including: jaguar blood, anaconda blood, natural viagra and a host of other additions I dare not think about. After that he was given a "magical" (my words) cigaret which landed him in a cop shop for a few hours. Once he was released he got "rolled" for a few items he had on him and somehow found his way home. I think he`d actually been out with another Aussie bird to a club before coming home. He then went on to explain he was studying a psychology course that included natural medicines and traditional beliefs (I forget the technical term). He was on his way to Peru, Iquitos, to a shamanic natural healers meeting that only takes place every so many years.

Then the bomb shell hit. "Can I join you guys on the boat to Manaus?" My first thought was how we gonna loose this guy. I`m glad we didn`t. Pix was and is such an awesome guy to travel with. A natural entertainer that somehow attracts attention to himself thats entertainment for everyone around him. Thanks Pix!

When I wrote the above I thought I`d be getting on a boat called the Santarem and on my way to Manaus. But not to be. James, Mianne and I went in a scout this morning to find the best price on the boat that leaves that day. As it would be Hotel Fortaleza had the best price and we wasted the morning trudging around in the sun. The four of us (including Pix now) headed to the doc for the Santarem, with tickets in-hand, to hang our hammocks up (as advised by Lonely Planet, to get the best spot). When we got there there was a lot of "Portlish" to establish that the Santarem would not be going that day as "the propeller was broke". I couldnt think of a more lame excuse myself! Bloody lazy crew is what I call it. So there was nothing to do but head back to town, have some lunch and drink beer until the sun goes down. Not later.

Yeah, right! But the sunset was worth it.



"Happy birthday to mom. I'll have a beer for you."

Update - this video was taken in Manaus but was meant for your birthday Mom.

It was a long bus ride from St Louise to Belem (11 hrs over night). When we arrived we cought the wrong bus an hour and a half in the wrong direction. I think none of us could be bothered to get off the bus but it took us to a cool resort town outside Belem. We wanted to stay the night but our indecision didn't help. The final straw was a bloody madman telling us not to walk along the coast road in our search for a place to stay (my motivation for a quick resolution and a place to stay was a turtle-head). So we cought the bus back to Belem.

A very kind couple helped us catch the correct bus to our hostel. They even paid our fare! I am in their debt.

That afternoon we went for a walk into town where a big artisan fair was on. I had a delicious chocolate cake (yes I had chocolate cake), a thirst quenching fresh mango juice, two 'meats-on-a-stick' and a can of guaranna (sp?).



Later that evening we went for a walk to find some dinner but only found a drunk who went from extolling all his problems on us to quoting Bob Marley and 'sharing the love'. The only think he was sharing was an even distribution of spittle in all of our beers. We eventually landed up having dinner at an expensive buffet (away from any madmen and drunks).

I went for a long walk around the old part of town and stumbled upon this old house. We had walked past it on the search for a hostel but didn't look in the gate. I'll buy this house when its refurbished.

Today we got to St Louise. I like the slow pace and the vibe this city has. There is a project to revitalise the old city to its former glory. I would love to see it once complete.

National Park of Six Cities - this national park is a geologists dream. A pitty I didn't understand our guide but hey, he didn't understand me.

Brazil: oops on its side

Long and very boring travel day! Except this morning James Mianne and I went to go see the fog (we actually went to see the sunrise but there wasn't one).

National Park Ubajara - The smallest park in Brazil. The main feature is a lime cave. Not as impressive as the Kango Caves but some cool formations inside. My favourite was the Breast Chamber.

Can you see the horse:



We also went to see the view from the escarpment:

A very long travelling day. Boring!

The sun and all the partying cought up to me this day. So I stayed at the hostel and read a book (pitty I couldn't keep it).

With my batteries recharged I had to go out and have that perfect Mahito (again):



Oops... part two:

This day we went on a buggy ride to fresh water lakes in the dune. It was great swimming in 'sweet water' and not scratchy salt water.

Beach day, dune jumping and sun set.

Beach day

At the bus station we met up with some other travellers: James and Mianne, a couple from the UK; Nattalie, half English half Brazilian (big help - she speaks Portugues); and Eran, Isralie. The bus ride out to Jeri was unevertful until we got to Jeri. The bus dropped us off in the 'town square' and left us to the sharks. There were about twenty people all trying to get us to stay in there accomodation (low season means slim pickings for them). Carnage I tell you - it was the nightmare of Salvadore all over again. I stayed with James to mind the bags while the other four went Possada hunting. They did very well at the end of the day. They decided to the best option was with Passada Senzala. A little more expensive but the best choice by far. The owner was a man named Itama who also owned and ran the local nightclub. Just to our advantage. The rest of the day was one long piss-up and I only got to bed just before the sun came up.

Most of the day in Fortaleza I spent walking around having a look at the town and walking along the boulevard. While in an Inet cafe Niall came online and co-incidentally he was also in Fortaleza. I hadn't expected him to be there on the same day as me. We agreed to meet later for a beer.



Later that afternoon I went to a big market (mostly for tourists). They had some weird things including crabs pickled in bottles of alcohol. The shop attendant told me it was very good. I believed him and left it at that.



At sunset I decided to go and catch the last rays from a stone pier that stretched about 750m into the ocean. It was the perfect spot to catch the shimmer of lights as they played on the highrise buildings on the coastline as the sun sank. While sitting on a rock this guy comes up to me and we start chatting in the small amounts of each others language we shared. I then began to worry about his intentions as he was asking me whether I liked girls, and how much so. I excused myself after he slanted that he likes men and winked at me. I made my way to the end of the pier where I noticed a few couples sitting on the rocks. On closer inspection some of the women could have been men. I then realised where I was. I gathered it was where gay men got together. A bit like Emmarentia dam. So I left them to it and said good bye to the chap trying to pick me up.



I found a spot close to the pier from where I could watch the sunset with possibly the same view as from the end of the pier. While sitting there in a daydream these two young girls came and sat along side me and we (as per usual) began chatting. They were very friendly and so I thought I could use them to help me learn some Portuguese. What they were trying to get me to learn was the gentle art of a Brazilian threesome for the handsome price of R$5. A bargain if you ask me but they settled for a photo of themselves instead.

I then met Niall for a beer (yeah right). It was good to catch up with him. Before we parted ways we arranged to meet at the bus station to go to Jericoacoara together.

From Natal I went on to Fortaleza. Most of the day was spent on a bus. There was an amazing Cathedral that reminded me of the Notre Dame with its flying buttress' and massive circular stain glass window in the front. It was started in the mid 17th century so is quite old.

After partying a little with the local kids the last night I spent the day on the beach just relaxing. But I did meet a guy with the biggest afro I have ever seen.



On the way home we came accross this cool graffiti. I dont think this picture does it any justice but it was cool.

The couple that ran the hotel said I could catch a lift with them into town. So after a lazy and filling breakfast we were off. As they live out in the sticks any trip into town has its errunds. This way and that. Giving people lifts from here to there. Chatting and shouting greetings through the window (I thought I was in Interlaken again - small town syndrome). I was wondering when they were going to drop me off at a bus stop so I could catch a bus back to Joao Pessoa. I'd seen plenty bus stops around, even the one I eroniously (but to my fortune) got off at.



Then we were off. After a brief enquiry they told me they wer going to Joao Pessoa anyway. Cool. No not cool. More errunds, here to there, this way that way, upping and downing. Then Piloe (I think thats his name) stops outside an appartment block and says "My childrens". Great, now what I thought, going to take them to boarding school in Sao Paulo before letting me off at a bus stop. I'd spotted them all!

The hottest daughter of anyone I have ever met climbed into the back seet along side me. Now I didn't mind the errunds we continued doing. She was cool to chat to. I told her of my time in 'Londres' and my guiding days. Then they bloody well dropped me off at the bus station. I knew I should have spent two nights at their hotel!

So I got a ticket to Natal and left that lovely lass behind.



I got to Natal fairly early and went for a walk along the promanade. At the end of which is a fort. I walked around the fort as it was closed and made my way back along the promenade.



By the time I got to the end it was dark with a full-on night time surfing competion. I stayed and watched that for a while where I met some local kids. They spoke very good English so I agreed to join them for a beer.



They then took me to a vantage point over the surfing competion. Not of the beat track or any place obscure. We were chatting and doing the general cultural exchange thing - my country, your country fact finding. All of a sudden this cop car pulls up, beams us with its search light and three giants of men come bounding on us.

A full body search on everyone (minus the cavaties). Wow, that was cool. They didn't find anything 'cause there was nothing to find. I told the other guys that was my first random stop and search by any cop. They broke into laughter and said "Welcome to Brasil!". High fives all around.

It was a peaceful night after that. They walked me home 'cause they wanted to make sure I got home safe. Very considerate of them.

I got up realy early to catch the sunrise from Ponte de Saixes. I packed mt gear in the dark and headed of for the long slog to the point. In half an hour I was there. Kicking myself for miss juging how far the point was from the camp I found a comfy spot and got another full hours kip.



I took this cheezy video to try and explain a bit more but the battery was running out and had to try a few times before it all came right.



From there I found my way on the road to Jacuma. My intention was to just spend the day there and then make my way to Natal in the evening. In Jacuma I jumped off the bus randomly. I couldn't have picked a more random spot to jump off than where I did. It was probably the furthest place from the sea that I could get. Even the locals looked at me as if I were daft. So I bought a bottle of water and started walking. I then realised how far from any sizable area of water I was when I crested a hill and saw the ocean wayyyyyy of there! So I picked up the pace.

About ten minutes into my swealtering mid-morning hike to 'I had no idea' a car pulled up along side and a lady yelled through the open passenger window "Praia?". "Si si" I replied. "Nome?" she enquired. "Tambarumbawamba" I replied, not knowing the actual name of the beach I wanted to head to. All I knew was it is the only regulated nudist beach in the whole of the North East of Brazil (according to the Lonley Planet - thanks Adrienne) and I was gonna go (the furthest place that I could possibly know anyone). To my reply the back door swung open and I joined the two occupants in the back. I did think for the briefest seconds that the four of them maybe a sadistic cult roaming the back street of Brazil looking for inoccent tourists to make shammy cloths from. But that disapeared after the name introductions. The rest of the 30 minute drive was done in silence on my part.

I landed in paradise.



The lady ran a resort with her partner as it so happens 200m from the nudist beach. Things were going my way. They agreed to let me camp for as long as I wanted. I only needed one night.

After charging the battery to my camera I was off to the nudist beach. Nothing could go wrong. I'd been psyching myself for day. I was going to walk up to the gate, pay my fare, go to the stripping area, take my kit off, layout my towel and go for a swim. FViews from the water would obviously be the best place to scope out the talent.

They only let you in in pairs. Phew! I stood no chance of getting in. I was off the hook. There was no way I was going to find anyone to go in with me there. I'd been told of the three kilometers of dessolate beach the other direction from the nudist beach. So I headed off there, found a secluded streach and formed my own nudist colony. That came to swift end when I could see a beach buggy approaching in the distance.



I spent the rest of the day walking along the dessolate beach at the end of which is a normal beach. I got some good perving time in there.

My last night in Olinda was a blast. It seems that Brazilians party on a Tuesday night (the same as Salvador). An Aussie girl (living in Canada), a Canadian girl and an Austrian girl and I all went with a few of the locals that lived at the hostel to a big party in Recife. We all got there at different stages but we hooked up with even more of the locals that the girls had befriended.

We partied in a square until that came to an end. From there we went to a street party where two superb bands were playing. Its a pity I didn't take my camera with 'cause they were great. We all stayed there until we had just enough cash to contribute to the 'get us home petrol fund'. 3:30am.

Martie (I think), the Austrian girl, shared the last of what she had to offer as a midnight feast - bread and butter. So I pulled out some hot chocolate sachets I had and we made a meal of it. This saved on the hangover to come later.

I left the hostel at 8:00am after a few hours sleep. From there I made my way to a town called Joao Pessoa (I still have difficulty pronouncing that one). The only reason I wanted to stay there was to go to Ponte de Seixas - the most easterly point of Brazil and South America. The plan was to walk there from my hostel the day after and from there go to a place called Jacuma for the afternoon.

It wasn't to be so simple. All the hostels were well beyond what I was willing to pay (why charge European prices when they are so far from Europe?). So I found a campsite in the town of Seixas and had my first night of camping in South America.

Whooo! Dinosaurs in Recife!!!

Museu e Oficina Francisco Brennand

This is a cool place. A gem in itself... if you can find it. I spent an hour and a half on a bus filled with students (side note: I read on the 'Metro' (free paper on the London Underground) a good way to while away youyr time while on public transport, amoung other things, is to find some 'eye candy' and enjoy the rest of the ride. I did just that... along with about twenty other older men on the bus. Lets say the female student population is quite high here. And they wern't to bad looking). At the end of the bus line its recommended to catch a taxi to the museum. Apparently its not safe and a long walk. I found it a very pleasant walk and not very far at all. It was a little frustrating as there is also and institute with a similar name. The locals couldn't tell the difference between a museum and an institute so I got the run around a little.

Mr Brennand inherrited the run down ceramic factory from his father in 1971 where upon he converted it into his studio. He has done very well out of the business that ensued and is apparently a well know ceramisist in Brazil.

I got up early this morning to get into town before the heat set in and I could to some decent sight seeing. I wondered the street for a good hour and didn't find anything of interest. I only saw urban sprawl and the nostril clogging hum of raw sewerage in the streets almost drove me to faint (some know about my week stomach to smells).





The actual part of the city of interest is on an island. When I came to a bridge I decided maybe the mainland was more interesting. Ha ha ha... I was on the mainland. I was surprised to find the 'Cultural Centre'. A prison that has been converted to a market. Each cell hold a stall with some very good upmarket handcrafts. There was a lot of tantalising stuff to buy (if I were a girl of course!).

I also stumbled on a brilliant market. The biggest I've seen yet. It took me about an hour and a half to work through and obviously came out lost on the other side. The rest of the day was spent checking out the remaining sights of the city. Nothing to note of any brilliance.

I got to Olinda OK. It's a small service town next to Recife which is a massive sprawling urban mess. They even have a metro but it runs overground. Olinda is quite bohemian and reminds me a lot of Melville and Yeoville in Jo'burg. There's a lot of good artwork available. You can also imagine a load of South American "carnies" running around.

I spent the day wondering around looking at the sights. Also wondered into a favella by mistake. There is a lighthouse set back against a hill and I wanted to see the view from there. It wasn't worth the slog up the hill but the looks I got were a story in themselves.



At the end of the day I was keen an a swim to cool down, but the sign bellow put me off:

Today I went to a place called Riacho Doce. This means sweet river. There was nothing sweet about this place. A smelly dirty small local fishing village. I went to go check out a hostel Niall and I had decided to stay at. When I got to the tourist info in Maceio they told me it costs between R$ 50 - 100 per night. They weren't wrong. Its a bit rich for my blood so I decided I'm not gonna stay there.

I spent about 30 minutes in that town and made tracks back to Maceio where I spent the remainder of the day sitting in the sun working on my tan. I did notice that the girls here aren't as fit as I first thought they would be. I'll report more on that in other towns.



Below is a video on the traffic light system. You cant see much but I hope it makes sence.

Maceio is great. What a difference it makes to Salvador. Its a lot calmer, cleaner and the people are 100 times more friendly. The guys at the hostel I´m staying at all joke with me because I cant speak Portuguese. They cant believe I´ve come all the way from Africa to see Brazil and cant speak any of their language. But I have gotten by quite fine. Maybe a lack of company to chat to over the past 2 days but I´ll survive.

I went on a tour at the Historical and Folk Lore Museum. It was just me and a middle aged milf as my guide. She too was bemused that I couldn´t speak any Portugase. None the less she still insisted I take the tour with her even though I didn´t understand a word. All credit to her she did try and teach me some of the language. Not sure how good a student I was but I must have impressed her some how. I landed up having ´cafe´ and ´busketa´ with her and all her amiga´s in the staff kitchen. We went through a list of everyday words and I´d give them the English equivalent. I cant understand why they laughed so much because most of the words were fairly similar to each other. I must admit, if they gave a word I didn´t understand I´d make one up for the English equivalent and blag my way through.

From the Museum I made my way to the Cathedral. It was closed so was stumped for ideas when all of a sudden I could hear the sounds of protest. "Not again!" I thought (I had to hi tale from a protest in Salvador when I tried to get an Entry/Exit card - another story. That was in the doc area so thought it not a good place to get caught. Plus they were all wearing read t-shirts. These guys were in white - assuming that's a lot safer). Apparently the student medical doctors to the local public hospital were protesting about something. Not sure what but I got a flier which I´ve included below (can anyone that reads Portuguese interpret for me please?).





I followed the parade for a while then got bored of it once I realised there was not much chance of any danger or violance (the sadistic side in me after being in Salvador for to long). I thought I´d wonder through the streets and see what they offered me. I found an open air shopping mall. It was great. Instead of being begged from I was offered a credit card (from citibank) even though I am not a Brazilian citizen. On hind sight I should have taken the offer. From there I found some magical buildings that must be several hundred years old, took a nap in a church (back to the good old days, just like Europe!) and got told off for not being careful about the non-existent dangerous and violent street kids. The guy had obviously never been to Salvador.

That afternoon I crossed to the other side of town. A stark difference. This is obviously where all the money is. There´s about a 8 km stretch of coasline being developed with high rise appartments. The beaches are good but polluted in the way of to much litter.

Salvador was not a good place. Niall, had met this local guy, Marcel, who has a lot of dealings in the tourism industry in Salvador. He explained how the street kids were all hooked on crack cocaine - which is obviously what made them such pests. They would go to any lengths to get money to organise their fix. I must admit I was conned out of a few Reals myself.

Niall and I were wondering the network of squares in Salvador. This kid approaches us and introduces himself as Junior (later he calls himself Mike so I don't think he really knows who he is). In his introduction he asks us in turn what our names are. When he gets to me there´s a big handshake and as big a smile on his face to go with it. Then only do I realise there is a small package in my hand. "Presensh. Quick put it in your pocket!" I duly obliged. You can see where this is going... Junior then gets to work on his magic (he´s had plenty practice). He goes from its a ´presensh´, to how much it costs (R$5/g), to how hungry he is, to how I owe him a ´presench´, to me getting very angry after buying him a hot dog and him demanding his ´presensh´ back unless I pay for it. It didn´t help that I threatened to call the cops. I think they would have taken his side. So he got his ´presench´ back. A good thing, it was probably only rat droppings!

That was a lessen to me. Never talk to street kids unless you saying "No obrigado" and thinking F-off. There were plenty more unrelenting beggars of varying talent, age and gender (some were ´trannies´).

I did see some good things in Salvador. The area I was staying in is called Pelourhino. This is the historic center and has a very ugly history. I gather most historic towns had a similar area dedicated to where slaves were beaten or hung. Areas of mass cruelty. Today its the center of all tourism in Salvador. The architecture must be the same as it looked 200 years ago. The pic below is taken from the square where all the beatings took place.



Tuesday nights were also quite festive. The streets come alive with a mini festival: beers, drums, bums, beggars, meet on a stick, cheese on a stick, beers, music, beggars, caiparhina (sp?), beers, music and bums.



When you start recognising all the beggars and actually cross the street to avoid them you know its time to leave.

This place is crazy. You cant go ten paces without someone offering you a good deal on drugs, a prostitute or random shit you´ll never use in a 1000 years. It´s time to go.

There are a few weird things I´ve noticed. An odd one is there cars. Xhibit can never compete with the wheels that have been pimped in this town. The bigger the mega blaster the better. I´ve seen cars with sound systems mounted that will put the Popes PA system in the Vatican to shame. Boom boxes of note.

A word of advice to anyone that does travel to this dump. Make sure you catch the bus in the right direction. You might just land up in a slum!

Landed in Salvador last night. The flight was uneventful but I did meet two guys who are old hands at travelling South America (Tinny and Prikesh). They were very generous with their advice and gave me some good tips and general advice.

I got up early this morning and was surprised to find breakfast was included in my hostel fee. Love the free stuff! I then spent the day crossing the bay on a ferry, cycling, drinking beer, sampling the local cuisine and generally getting sun burnt with an Irish guy named Nigel. Not bad for a first day I think!

Don't think I´ll hang around here for long. It is a tad boring and I´m keen to find an anaconda to tackle.

The idea was to post videos and pictures but that will have to wait until I find an inet cafe ´high tech´ enough to plug my camera in. So you´ll have to grin and bear the waffle.

Florence

Sienna

I really enjoyed my time at here. I met Courtney here. The busabout accomodation was break the bank expensive and I'd booked myself in there. Courtney on the otherhand had done some research and found a hostel for less than half the price... a steal realy. So I spent one night in each place. That kinda balanced the whole thing out.

We didn't spend much time together here but landed up travelling with each other for about three weeks. I enjoyed her company and was always worth having around. She is the cool unseamingly organised type who people like me can realy on. Plus she was a good laugh.


I went and watched a falconry show below the old town. Its a bit different when you're the only foreigner in a crowd of Italians. Especialy if you get your own comentry in English... all be it the shortend vesion. I didn't get any of the jokes! But besides getting jist of the comentry the show was very good.



There was also a Museum of Torture that I had a look in on. I'd never been to a museum like this before and got quite excited. I thought it would be great to see some of the instuments used in the middle ages. You know: the classic streacking rack, a cat-o-nine-tails, some pre-historic looking sergical utensils etc.

It wasn't great. Infact it was horrible. You could have gone through the entire museum not flinching... if you don't read the comentry. I did. They explained exactly how the instument worked, right down to the pain the poor haples victem felt. Often emphasising how the victems were a 'victem' of injustic and often be the case of superstition (witches and such). What got to me the most is they would give cases of where the particular torture instument is used in modern age. Africa was the most reported. The whole experieve put me off going to another museum like that. To think that we've been doing that sort of thing to ourselves for cunturies.

I also went to the Sienna Duomo. This is the most impressive Cathedral/Church/religious sight I'd been to on my entire trip. The structure is impressive and the interior art work the best I've seen anywhere.

I also decided to shave my beard off my last night here. This is a final view before it got the chop... 3 months growth, no shaving at all! You may wonder why it was taken off? I could take the bewildered stares, quizical looks and often rude leers. But the kids. I felt sorry for them. I kept scaring them. I don't know why, but that morning I brought a tear to a little boys eye!

Pompeii and the Amalfi Coast

Pompeii was amasing. I spent five and a half hours walking the streets of Pompeii. I took so many pics my camera died (most of them were so bad I had to delete them from my memory card. I have a policy not to delete anything... they were bad!). The only thing I regret is not doing a guided tour. I bought a guide book but its not the same as having someone talk you through the sights. Those Romans were a pornographic lot.




The Amalfi Coast was very relaxing. I stayed in a village over from Amalfi called Atrani. This is one of the places that I bumped into Tara. The drive from Salerno was very beautiful. I would say it is more scenic than Chapmans Peak Drive in Cape Town. It's certainly more dangerous regarding the crazy Italian drivers. I spent the entire day I had there relaxing on the beach.

Rome

This is a crazy city. I saw and was told the most outrageous stories. You would think you were in Africa with the amount of begging, thievery and pressing crowds. Again over touristed, expensive, rushed and rude.

I only had one full day in Rome so rushed from sight to sight. I was supposed to do an ancient Rome guided walk but I lost my ticket (note it was not stolen or pick-pocketed... my bad). I was so pissed it took me a while to cool down.


When at the Trevi Fountain I was sitting next to an Aussie couple chatting about the current state of each of our nations rugby teams (I have no idea what state the Springboks are in, I just watch the game, so a lot of blagging) when a huge group of tourists stood up. Luckily I had my camera out and got a 1 in a 1'000'000 shot... no tourists in sight (except the half face of the girl in the corner).


Other sights: Pantheon, Spanish Steps, Vatican City, Sistine Chapel and a whole lot more I can't remember the names of. Unfortunately my camera died when I got the the Vatican so have no pics of it.

Venice

Venice is not what I thought it would be. It is over touristed, expensive and not much to do but walk over a million bridges and down narrow alleyways. Not as romantic as I thought it would be. Thank goodness for the people I met there: Lisa, Kristian and Ashley and Mark . There were a lot more people but can't remember their names.



My first day in Venice I learnt the art of sleeping in churches. I would walk for about 20 minutes, get tired, find a church and catch a few zeds inside. This saw me through the day. Also ate about five gelati. They were excellent and this is from someone who doesn't like sweets.



The second day I just chilled at the pool, worked on my tan and had a massive water fight with Lisa, Kristian, Ashley and Mark. That evening we all went off into Venice for a nice romantic meal. We couldn't find a place that we liked so we filled up on pizza slices (they are an economical meal).

On the way home Lisa and I had a romantic kiss on the Ponte di Rialto. The next day I left for Rome.

St Johan in Triol (Austria)

This place is much like Interlaken but on a smaller scale. I didn't do much here. Walking around town, chatting with Bob (an 80 year old Canadian on Busabout. I take my hat off to him!), afternoon beers with Debbie and Marty and karaoke with the Top Deck group. The evenings wouldn't be complete without a whole night of Bob's snoring.

I award Bob first place for being the worst snorer I had in four months in Europe. He gets points for sounding as if he were drowning.

Bob, Miles and I had to share a room together in a pension. The hostel had been booked up by Top Deck. As the three of us enter the room, with the proprietor and a person from the hostel, we notice there are only two bed, a single and a double. The proprietor tried to explain in broken German that the double is in fact two singles. It just so happens that they are both in the same bed frame. Yeah right!

Miles makes a b-line for the single and tries to claim it for himself. Bob summarily kicked him off, much to my relief. I don't mind sharing but I think an 80 year old man needs his space. Especially this one.

The night life wasn't to bad. The hostel was attached to an Aussie bar so there was a bit of liveliness. I can't remember her name (I wonder why?) or her mom's but this Aussie girl I met up with was a damn good singer. The two of them were a good laugh.

Munich - Round One

Busabout sells tickets to some activities available in the destination we are headed for. On this day the main item being promoted was the Munich Beer Crawl. I thought I didn't have anything better to do that evening so, what the heck, might aswell go do some beer tasting.

I had sometime to kill so went up to my room and just relaxed a little. There I met Brad and Chantalle. A really great couple from the States. Both were teachers at a College in the States. Brad had finished working as a summer camp coordinator. Chantalle had come to join him for a few weeks before they went back to work. I saw a few pics of the two of them at La Tomatina. It looks as like they had a great time there. Jealous.



I invited Brad and Chantalle to come along with me to the Beer Crawl. They were willing participants. We met up with Sally (beer drinker of note) and a few other Kiwis and Aussies from Busabout. Sorry for not remembering their names but I know they will understand.

The Crawl goes as such:

• An hour of drink as much beer as you can. Including two Jagermister shots (vomit material)
• Off to the first beer garden - Hofbrau House (I think)
• Then to the Augustina Beer Garden (I think)
• Then to another beer garden (I think but not sure on this one)
• Then to a bar next door to the hostel we were staying in.

The evening started off really well. Isac our American tour guide was excellent. He is a brilliant entertainer and knows how to handle his drink (mix it with a little/lot of lemonade). His predecessor had to quit from corrossis of the liver. Isac soon laid down the basic rules:

• No vomiting
• No making a fool of yourself
• No stumbling while you walk
• There were a few others but I can't remember them. You get the jist.

The whole objective of the above rules is to win what the Aussies call a cuzi. A bit of material that looks like a wetsuit cut-up that you slip your beer into to keep cool. I say if you need one of those you obviously don't drink your beer fast enough!!! (My true belief in the rules is that it keeps the clients in line and gives them something to aim for besides getting rat arsed pissed... very clever, smart in fact)

Here is a short video from the tour:

The last thing I can remember from the evening is being on a tram to the Augustina Beer House. Apparently we had a good time there and eventually landed up at the bar close to the hostel. I believe I was in the running to win the cuzi, until I got caught having a cheeky vomit in the men's (I refer you to the rules above). I felt bad the next day for loosing the cuzi as Brad and Chantalle had backed me as a sure winner.

I think because I lost the cuzi, it was late and I realised I had drunk enough beer I headed home. At about 6am some Canadian girls shakes me awake and tells me to get out of bed. I had never done that before and jumped straight out of bed in fright. The Canadian tells me I was in someone some English girls bed (who had obviously just come home). I apologise and start looking for my bed.

The Canadian girl looks at me and asks what am I doing... this isn't my room. Hungover and tired this is a bit of a shock to me. More so when I realise she's telling the truth.

I'm standing there in my shorts, no camera, wallet, mobile or room key! I start rummaging for my stuff when I'm told quit emphatically to get out. I ask what room number this is, still not wholly believing this isn't my room. The Canadian tells me its room 312 and to get out. I'm in room 101. So I get kicked out.

When I get back to my room all my stuff was on my bed, neatly laid out waiting to go for a day of sightseeing.

The following night was a fairly quiet night. I had a few quiet beers with Brad and Chantalle as they were off early the next morning. My third night in Munich was much the same as the first. I met up with a two Scotts and and Irishman: Fiona Stephen and Gary. In true Irish and Scottish hospitality they got me absolutely wasted. We played some drinking games and after a lot of beer and whisky landed up in the bar.

This is the night I first met Lucy. Because Gary and I had lost the most at the drinking game we had the most to drink. Then some smart arse comes up with the idea if we kiss a girl that will take ten drinks off our total required. Thus the more girls kissed the more drinks come off. You can imagine the score was ridiculously high. I aimed for the prettiest girl in the bar, Lucy, got denied and went for her mate. Score. I went to bed soon after that.

Sorry Lucy... I did remember that night, but a long while after we became friends.

Lucern

After a night in Paris and one night at Rogers in Interlaken I was off again. This time to a Swiss town called Lucern. I thoroughly loved Lucern. After all the partying in San Sab and being on the road for two straight nights a laid back town with not much to do was all I need.

The afternoon I arrived I walked the entire town flat. There is a large pedestrianised zone with some great shops (filled with expensive brand name clothing, Swiss Army Knives and other Swiss tourist paraphernalia). Also, a large section of the old town wall with a part of the rampart you can walk along.

For me being there was a dream come true (one of those things you promise yourself when you're a kid you'll do before the day you die). I can remember watching the old SABC 5pm news reporting on how the Chapel Bridge had almost been completely destroyed by an arson attack, including many medieval paintings. I promised myself I'd see the Bridge before any other damage came to it. Dream come true: tick!

There were a few other surprises the town had install for me. A second bridge similar the the Chapel Bridge, shorter and a few years older, but with no damage to it besides ware and tare. The Spreuer Bridge has some very cool medieval paintings with death depicted in all of them. Some are quite comical.

The Glacier Garden is a treasure trove in itself. There is the 'glacial garden' (bedrock with some potholes and grooves where the glacier slid), the Glacier Museum, an old Swiss house and my favorite the Hall of Mirrors. This was a display for the 1896 Swiss national exhibition.

Along side the Glacier Garden is my favourite monument in all of Europe! The Lion Monument is a dedication to the Swiss Militia who fort for the French Royalty during the French Revolution. I spent many hours sitting in the sun gazing at this sculpture. I even fell asleep looking at it. A kind Korean couple woke me up and offered me some nuts (I think to keep me awake).



The Picasso Museum in Lucern is also one of my favourite museums in Europe (I clearly didn't go to that many museums). It is a series of photos taken in the last 17 years of Picasso's life with a few examples of his work. I found it very insightful to who the man was.

P A R T Why? Because I Gotta!



Welcome to San Sebastian! This is my favourite party place on the whole trip (I didn't get home before 6am every morning).

I arrived in the middle of some festival being held at San Sab. No accommodation booked, I thought I'd do an all nighter and catch the bus the following morning. Luckily, the hostel/tourist board (I'm not sure which one they were) found a bed for me in Kati's Pension. A wonderful old lady who miraculously converts her home into a sardine can during the summer months.

A few fact about San Sab Old Town: It has the most bars per square meter than any other place in the world. Kati's Pension opens onto the street with the most bars in it in the whole of Old Town. Organised!

I met some great people while in San Sab: Mark, Justine, Ange and a whole lot more people I can't remember their names (don't be surprised).

There was an international fireworks display on at the time. It was to last for seven nights and get better every night. I only saw the first three nights and was amazed at how much fire display you can put into 45 minutes. Definitely will do again!

Sorry for not blogging for so long. There just arent any internet cafes in Europe. This is the first one Ive found for a long time. I promise!

A funny story (this is a conversation I had with Harry on the inet):

declannh: went on a pub crawl in munich
12:50 had memmory loss but got home ok
some chick wakes me up and says im in her bed
lank confused i get up and ask what room i'm in
Matthew: lol
declannh: she says room 312
12:51 im in room 101
Matthew: lol
fuck, you must have been smashed
declannh: i start looking for all my kit... camera wallet etc but cant find anything
12:52 im only in my shots.. no shirt ni flip flops
eventualy get to my room
knock on the door and they let me in
everything was there on my bed.
12:53 who knows what i did?
Matthew: lucky

Return to Madrid

The road trip back to Madrid was a long one. I left Torla at about 1:30pm and got back to the hostel around 11:30pm. All the time switching from bus to bus, although this time getting back to Madrid was a lot easier than finding the Pyrenees. Most Spaniards have heard of and know where Madrid is.

As I was laying down to get some shut-eye I hear this woman start moaning (at this point let me describe the physical positioning of my room: it faces into a quad that goes from the ground floor to the eighth floor. I'm on about the fourth floor. Because of this long quad/vent thing you can't hear where the noise is coming from as is echoes up and down the vent!). At first I was quite taken aback. Then it starts getting louder. All sorts of moans and groans that just seem to be going on for an age. If I weren't so tired I might have enjoyed the voyeur element a bit more, but I just waited for them to get on with it.

And so I waited. This guy was a champ. If I knew who he was I would proclaim him my hero, he was making the most of his time. Her moaning just got more and more ecstatic, louder with more guttural groans, until... there was silence!

Thank goodness I thought to myself, but no. With real consideration and passion in her voice (with a slight American accent I have to add!) she askes "So, are you satisfied now?" .

"After all of that I hope he IS!!!" some guy blurts out. What a laugh I had after that.

The Pyrenees

As I had been partying a bit with Ben and co, the morning I was to leave for the Pyrenees I missed my bus and had to catch a later bus. This is where my Spanglish come into practice. I had to catch 5 buses to get to Bielas. I got there at about 9:30pm but enjoyed the trip.

From Bielsa I started my hike to Refugio de Ronatiza. I covered the 12 km in good time but was to late to tackle the first pass into the mountains. I made camp there and spent the day doing short walks. I then got back to my camp late afternoon only to be told I was not allowed to camp there because the site was reserved for a scout group. As much as I protested and told them I was also a scout they still kicked me off the site. They obviously didn't speak any Spanglish!

The next day was a bitch! I did a 1100m assent within 2km. That means its very very steep. The day before I spent some time chatting to the ground staff at the refugio (it was more like finger pointing, head shaking and shoulder shrugging with a few words thrown in with 'o' or 'a' attached to the end. No intellectual discourse). It was approved, after the girl gave me a good eyeballing, that I would be able to do the assent in 5 hours... it took me 8... with no breaks.

I finally made it to my camp at 4pm. This is after an 800m descent in 6km. Not much better than the up but very picturesque. I slept in a quaint little stone hut... for two nights. The massive ascent then descent killed me. I stayed put here. Didn't even do any short day walks. I have decided the National Park should be rebranded a national highway. I thought I would get some peace and quiet during my recovery time, but no way. A constant stream of people kept passing MY humble hut.




The forth day of hiking, fully recovered, was very pleasant. There were some technical sections but overall a pleasing walk. I left the stone hut late and arrived at Refugio de Goriz early. Great. Some more rest time.

That night I woke up with the worst stomach pains I've had in a long time. I went to the bathroom but no action. I also tried to force myself to vomit but that didn't work. I had planned to climb Monte Perdido the following morning. If the cramps lasted any longer all thought of doing so would disappear.

I climbed back into bed and woke up really late. 8:30am I got up and the camp was empty. Everyone had a two and half hour lead on me and I still wasn't keen. I had a quick breakfast and packed my camp by 9am. As I was leaving the refugio I thought: "Hey, you're here now and this is what you came to do. So get it over with!"

So I ran up to the peak and down again in 5 hours (brag time: advised minimum time is 8 hours). I was the last to leave and the first one back. What a champ!



I arrived back at the Refugio Gorith just after 2pm, had a quick lunch there and headed for Torla, a gateway town to the Pyrenees. The rest of the hike was uneventful. I spent the night in Torla and got back to Madrid the following evening fairly late.

I love Spain. What a great country this is! It kinda reminds me of home with the laid back approach to work and life... yet things do get done if at times frustratingly slow (like ordering at McDonald's). The people here are so open and friendly it doesn't matter if you don't speak their language. My Spanglish is coming along quite nicely now. I have narrowed down all the essential words as follows:
si - yes
no - no (quite convenient)
manyana - tomorrow
no problemo - no problem (can do or yes)
grazias (sp?) - thanks (the z is pronounced with as th)
and a whole lot of finger pointing on a map and head nodding or shaking
occasionally a shoulder shrug brings about a new approach from either party
it also helps to know place names!

There are three things I've noticed about Spain that need mentioning:
1. The hair cuts:

If aliens were to land and judge each country by their hair styles the Spanish would win the wacky award (by far).

For the guys to have a "business on top party at the back" sporting a mean mullet, side temples shaven and a piece of thread breaded in you are king. Or you could go for the simple once over with an obscure piece left uncut about 5cm long randomly selected about the back of your head... you still in the cool league.

For the girls anything goes from a no. zero all over to fancy colour effect to things breaded in. What gets me is the fringe cuts. Every girl you meet has a fringe. It does make them look cute.

2. The architecture:

I must say they know how to make a building look good. Driving up to any obscure town in the dessert the apartment blocks have a good look and feel to them. But not just the housing, all new buildings have a modern feel and look that I like.

3. Sculptures

The Spanish are not shy on expressing themselves with art. Everywhere you go there is a piece of art work. Driving along the highways I'm always delighted to see a great big hunk of something that can be construed as art in the middle of nowhere.

I'll put more pics up when I get the chance

"One Night in Madrid"

I met the coolest Finish people in my dorm room. Jo-jo and ST, brother and sister from Scandinavia, and Ben (an Aussie dude on his way to Liverpool) all up for a party 24/7. Within 5 minutes of walking in I had a drink in my hand (not a soft drink) and was on my way to a good night. Ben had been partying with them for a few nights (and a few more before that) so when he recovered we were all off to a club. Needles to say I only got to bed after the sun came up (well before the others).

Most of my day time in Madrid was trying to organise to get to the Pyrenees to do some hiking. I had misplaced the pamphlet Shonny had given me so it was a bit of a mission getting information. It seems most Spaniards didn't even know they had a mountain range bordering on France. But persevere I did and finally made it there.

Valencia

This is a great city. A bit on the small side and quiet. I think its a university town so not many people were around. There is some great modern architecture here too. The river that ran through the city flooded every so often so they diverted it with a canal and made a long winding park along the course of the river. At the bottom end where the new part of the city has gone up there are a few museums great just to look at (expensive to go in).

The Americas Cup is also being hosted from here so I went to go look at the South African team (Shoshaloza) base. Not much to comment on here. The boat wasn't in.