Southern Thailand: the final leg of our journey!

 Ao Nang Beach.

Guy and Vasana.

Welcome to my final blog!
Since my last post, Jen and I have completed our tour of Thailand; venturing down to the very south of the country and onto the so called “islands”, famous for sun sea and… sand. Leaving Bangkok mid-August, our first stop was a south seaside town called Ao Nang. After our final night bus journey, (cue fist pump) we were both rather tired, but overjoyed to discover that our accommodation was amazing. Staying at 'Vasana Bungalows', which are about a fifteen minute walk from the town, we were warmly greeted by Guy and Vasana, the owners of the establishment, and quickly shown to our abode. Whilst crossing the threshold of our accommodation, Guy welcomed us to, and I quote, “the room of love”. Despite JA and myself not being an item, we could understand what Guy meant; a huge white double bed filled the room, laden with large cushions and a stylish wet room. After unpacking, we decided to walk into town and have an explore. However, our luck with good weather decided to end that day in fantastic fashion; the heavens opened and the rain did not cease for two days! As a result, we decided to head to the bar/restaurant area to utilise Jen’s pack of cards, playing many a game of 'Beany,' 'Shithead,' 'Chips' and 'Strip Jack Naked'. Thankfully, Guy and Vasana were in the vicinity and Guy, being French, loved discussing the matters on the home front. On top of that, Vasana cooked us up many delicious local Thai dishes, coming from the area herself.
Much to our luck, out of our three days in Ao Nang the weather did improve and we headed out on our penultimate day. During the excursion, we decided to take the fabled “Monkey Cliff Walk” to a secluded beach, however we sadly did not see a single monkey and the secluded beach was in fact overshadowed by a new hotel complex. As a result, we both decided to catch up on some sunbathing, as the previous days had of course, been lacking. This was followed by a rather traumatic Thai massage! Thinking it would just be a back rub, I was in for a shock when my masseuse told me to strip down to my rather skimpy boxers. Putting a small white towel over my genital region, she quickly went to work and to start, the massage was great. However she soon started to lift and stretch my legs up at unworldly angles and before long, the towel fell away to reveal 'Little Andy' dangling out of my upturned boxers which had somehow found their way above my belly button! An image, all together, rather unattractive. My masseuse carried on her work with nothing more than a giggle, and soon she was done. (I left feeling more red-faced and embarrassed than relaxed.)

Appreciating the 'Auto Bar' at Kata.

The following day we paid a fond farewell to our lovely bungalow, and Guy and Vasana. We then endured a lengthy journey down to Kata Beach on Phuket Island. Here we stayed at “Orchid House”, an amazing modern hotel, close in proximity to the beach and equipped with two swimming pools (we couldn’t quite picture how Pierre, our travel agent in Bangkok, had included this in our bundle deal for such a reasonable price; we were soon to find out...) Like in Ao Nang, we were given a room with a double bed, in fact all the rooms we have been booked into down south have had double beds, leading us to believe that Pierre made the grievous error, that many others on our travels have made, believing that Jen and myself are a couple. Needless to say the nights have endured many a duvet tug-of-war (Jen consistently being the outright victor!) and clinging to bed edges. However, we were thankful for the facilities that Orchid House possessed because, like in Ao Nang, the heavens opened for the majority of our time there. Despite this, Jen and myself still explored the area to an extent, and we soon discovered that Kata Beach was something of a Ghost Town in relation to the huge, beautiful, modern and empty hotels that line the streets! It was only when we saw Tsunami Evacuation Route signs did we think to check up the history of the region on the net, only to discover that the area had been obliterated by the 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami! As a result, most of the previous buildings had been destroyed, or torn down, and replaced by brand new hotels and other establishments. Yet it seems far too many have been made for the actual amount of tourists visiting the town!

The sunset that greeted us from our beach on Koh P.

Despite the weather, we left Kata Beach refreshed and looking forward to reaching exotic Koh Phangan where, over the course of six days, we’d hopefully see lots of sun and the famous Full Moon Party. Before getting the ferry north to the island however, we had an 8 hour coach journey to the port which turned out to be probably the most uncomfortable journey I’ve experienced while travelling. Due to there being no seats left on the bus, myself and an Irish man from Cork, suitably named Paddy, were told to sit on the dashboard for the lengthy trip. All would have been ok (ish) had the bus driver not decided to pick up hitch-hiking locals and also take them to the port. Feeling somewhat like a game of Ten Green Bottles, more and more of us were crammed onto the dashboard until I found myself on the driver’s gearstick. Unfazed, the driver carried on picking up more locals, whilst occasionally barking at me in Thai to get off his gear lever!
Eventually, after what felt like forever, we made it to the pier and got onto the ferry, where we met Sam and Jo, who would soon accompany us on our frequent nights of revelry on the island. Upon reaching Koh Phangan, we were taken, by taxi, to Sun Sea Resort; our home for the next five nights. Meeting up with Sam and Jo in town, we got our first taste of the beach parties that make Phangan famous. On a huge stretch of beach, bone white and puzzlingly clean, lie many bars, dance floors and hundreds of stalls selling buckets. For those of you of the older generation who don’t know, a bucket is a deliciously alcoholic concoction consisting of copious amounts of spirits mixed with the sweetest soft drink. After two of these, one tends to rather drunk (cue the 'Fast Show's Rowley Birkin) and ready to party into the early hours. Thousands of other people fill the beach, dancing on tables, in the streets or just sitting on the sand, chatting to fellow travellers to their hearts content. (I personally found these “pre-moon” parties more enjoyable than the actual full moon party, but I will get to why later).

All set for the Fullmoon Party.

The days on Koh Phangan were spent soaking up the sun and recovering from the previous night back at the bungalows. It was here where we met Nat, Kim and Sam, three Mancunian girls who would join our merry band of revelry. The girls also knew six medics from Leeds on the island and so our ranks only grew. We celebrated Kim’s birthday on the Thursday and on the Friday we tried, but failed, to go out again and instead, opted for early nights so as not to impair our stamina for the following evening of the Full Moon. In preparation for the party, we spent a good three hours covering one another in U.V paint patterns from head to toe. Accompanied by our vibrant, colourful tie-dye clothing we had purchased for the evening, we all looked fit for such an occasion. Yet, it was at 11pm that we realised that we had spent half the night decorating each other and not having a single drink! Soon arriving at the beach, we made up for lost time and got on the buckets. Unlike the previous pre-moon parties, the Full Moon party was far more crazy! About three times the number of people filled the beach buzzing off booze and god knows what else. Amongst the endless bodies dancing lay the parties early casualties; people passed out, half buried in the sand, or others being treated for third degree burns because they partook in the parties fire challenges. Thankfully, all of us were on good form and we all saw the sunrise at 6am. It was at this point that I longed for my foam mattress because not only was I partially exhausted but, the beach had lost its charm in the dull early morning light. The mess ten-thousand odd revelers had made was strewn all over the large beach. The once white sands had been ploughed and churned up with beer bottles, buckets, cigarette butts and bodies. Thankfully, we all got home safe and spent a large portion of the following twelve hours in bed.

Ladyboys perform at Koh Tao's cabaret.

It was the next day, when we said our farewells to our new friends and headed for Koh Samui. After reading abysmal reviews about Sandy Resort (where we were to stay), where cockroaches, theft and dirty sheets featured copiously on online sites, we were in for one of the best surprises of the entire trip when we discovered the resort had been taken under new management and things had greatly improved. Upon arrival, we were given flowery bracelets, a wet flannel and an ice cold tropical juice, and shown to what has to be one of the nicest bungalows we stayed at all trip. In fact, Jen and I were so surprised that we double checked online to make sure we were staying at the correct 'Sandy Resort' on Koh Samui! It was here where we chilled out for three days under some much needed sun by the resort pool. It was very nice not to be around, or be in the vicinity of, any alcohol or thudding dance music for a few days. In fact, upon reaching Koh Tao, we continued the same routine of relaxation as we did in Samui. On our first evening on Tao we met back up with Sam, Kim and Nat where we went to the island’s cabaret show. The show was free entry, yet entrants had to purchase one rather pricey beverage. We, alongside a hundred strong audience, sat in a dark coliseum of sorts, and were soon treated to one of the most brilliantly bizarre things I have ever witnessed. Many different ladyboys, of all shapes, sizes and levels of attractiveness took it in turns to sing Beyonce, Rihanna and Britney! To give the guys credit, it was thoroughly entertaining and they gave it their all in their collective, colourful, flamboyant dress. Yet for men who (well some of them) looked so much like attractive women, the show really did have an odd vibe to it, right to the very end when male audience members volunteered and had a chance to wear the attire and dance on stage with the ladyboys.

The girls left the following day for Bangkok and, two days later, after more sun and sea, we followed suit. Today, we fly home! After four and a half months, and six countries, we will be touching back down in Birmingham Airport at 12.30pm tomorrow. Travelling has been such an amazing, eye opening experience and it has been absolutely brilliant to explore Canada, Fiji, New Zealand, Hong Kong, Vietnam and Thailand; they have all been an absolute wonder to behold. We have met so many lovely people over the course of our travels; from the villagers in Fiji who so warmly welcomed us volunteers into their homes for five weeks to the many backpackers travelling here in South East Asia. We thank anyone and everyone we have met and become friends with over the course of this trip!

Secondly, I would like to thank Jen for being such a good friend and companion during our trip. At the start in Canada, right through to the end here in Thailand, she has been a figure in whom I could place complete trust and reliance, and I would have found myself truly lost without her!

Finally, I would like to thank you, somehow my blog has amounted over seven hundred reads, so to you, reader, you have my sincere thanks. Knowing that someone has been reading this collection of posts has made it more the more worthwhile to write. However, even though I’m going to miss writing my thoughts down every few weeks, it is going to be fantastic to get home and not describe these adventures with pen and paper or keyboard - but in person to you, my friends and family!

Looking forward to seeing you all soon!
Love Andy.

Thailand: Bangkok and Chiang Mai

Hello family and friends, welcome to my penultimate blog!
Since leaving Vietnam on the 14th, we have explored Bangkok, ventured to the distant reaches of the north in Chiang Mai, said sad farewells to close friends and now travelled to the exotic south. (To be put simply we have had a very busy 10 days!)

Pad Thai.

Arriving in Bangkok airport late in the evening of the 14th, Dave, Freya, Jen and myself waved down a taxi and immediately asked to be taken to Khaosan Road, which Freya (who is a seasoned Thai traveller) advised us was a backpackers hotspot; she wasn’t wrong. After being dropped off we walked from hostel to hostel in a baggage train up the narrow streets struggling to avoid locals selling their wares and other travellers revelling in the Khaosan experience, only to be told that all the lodgings were full. Feeling somewhat like Mary and Joseph from the nativity, we eventually came across a rather cheap hostel (which lay just off KS road) that had some beds available and despite it being rather dirty it was only £3 a night. We dropped our bags in the dorms and decided to head out for Khaosan, where we were greeted by swarms of people: tourist and Thai. The two hundred meter stretch of street is made of hundred of small stalls, selling anything from edible scorpions to fake ‘Jimmy Choo’ hang bags! To give you a taste: there are countless stalls of tailors, kebab vendors, clothiers, souvenir, 7 Elevens, fake CD’s and DVD’s. (To put simply I think you could probably find anything you desire on the road if you look hard enough!) Yet there is one good that is sold every ten meters or so by vendors on Khaosan that is probably the cheapest and scrummiest food I have ever encountered: PAD THAI! For a mere eighty pence, a weary traveller can buy a sizable plate of delicious noodles, vegetables, egg, chicken and shrimp. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw backpackers in McDonalds and Burger King on Khaosan paying similar price to at home for a far less satisfying meal! Needless to say my diet whilst staying in Bangkok would consist of at least two Pad Thai meals daily!

One of the many gold statues at the GP.

In our first days in Thailand’s capital, we browsed travel offices for the best deals for a trip up to Chiang Mai, in the north, followed by a trip south to The Islands after Freya and Dave had left us. We visited the TAT Office, which is a Thai government owned organisation and asked for the best prices the could give us, however they were somewhat too dear: 5000 Baht (£102) for four days in Chiang Mai and 24000 Baht (£488)  for three weeks in the south. Of course we tried to barter and barter the prices down  but this only infuriated our heavily pregnant TAT adviser who became rather rude, so we decided to look elsewhere. It was later in the day (after Pad Thai!) that we found a travel company which offered the same length of trips for half the price TAT offered. We booked up Chiang Mai, but we wearily decided to book up the more expensive and lengthy trip south when we returned from the north and if it had proved a success with zero hiccups.

El Dorado?

Before taking the night bus north the following day, we visited the Grand Palace, home to Thailand’s royal family and also some of the most extravagant and bonkers architecture I have ever seen! However, before we were allowed within the grounds, we were surveyed by Thai guards whose job is to spot the unaware tourist wearing inappropriate clothing. The reason being is that the temples within the palace walls also serve as the chief Buddhist places of worship within Bangkok and so the correct clothes must be worn. (Legs and shoulders must be covered by ‘modest’ clothing.) Whilst Freya and Jen heeded the advice of Lonely Planet, Dave and myself suffered from ignorance and were ordered by Thai Guards with megaphones to wait in a forty minute queue so that we could exchange our rugby shorts for some bizarrely baggy trousers deemed fit for the religious sites. When we finally breached the palace’s threshold to start site seeing, I suppose if I were to sum up my thoughts in one word it would be: GOLD! The sheer amount of gold paint, glass, glitter and actual gold that lies within the palace walls is mind bogglingly beautiful. On top of the gold, there are thousands upon thousands of different coloured glass shards that cover every inch of most buildings in mosaics. The temples and palaces are overwhelmingly stunning to behold and if an ‘El Dorado’ of sorts exists anywhere in the world it surely is the Grand Palace.

The Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho.

We explored the grounds for a few hours, but after a while we felt we have seen enough golden pillars, phallic towers and statues to last a life time, yet before heading back to KS road we visited the giant reclining Buddha at Wat Pho. We soon discovered that the fifty meter long statue is covered from head to toe in gold and resides in a golden temple which lies amongst more golden phallic towers and statues. Before we all overdosed on an over exposure of gold, the heavens opened on us in spectacular fashion so we made a hasty retreat to the bus station, where after a long sodden wait we were picked up and headed to Chaing Mai. Now I have described what night bus journeys are like in my Vietnam blog and ones here in Thailand are not too different, apart from the fact that little Thai men make a career out of hiding in coach luggage holds, breaking into tourists bags and stealing valuables. As a result, all four of us stuffed our hand luggage with our most precious goods and for good reason; we suffered the shock to discover that our bags had been searched and our neatly packed clothes had been scrumaged and tangled in an odd fashion. (Thankfully none of us have lost anything… yet, touch Wood).

Young Monks in Chiang Mai

We arrived at our hostel early the following morning, and after a quick nap we wolfed down some food and set out to explore the ‘Capital of the North.’ Entering the walls of the historic part of the city, we stopped at every temple we passed taking photos at the décor and statues (all being similar to that of the Grand Palace: GOLD!) however we soon discovered that the quantity of temples in the old city far outnumbered our expectations numbering over one hundred. It soon dawned on us that we could spend the rest of our allotted travel time photographing the same architecture over and over again so we went to relax in a bar. That same day, to our fortune was a famous Buddhist holiday and many Thai families had flocked to the city to see their sons become fully fledged monks; a lifetime commitment. The specific name of the holiday has escaped me, but I have found the best way to describe is monk graduation day! This meant that there were hundreds and hundreds of young adolescent boys in bright yellow robes around the temples waiting to discover whether or not they had been accepted into their temple.

Our noble steed.

The following day we went on an elephant trek in the jungle north of the city! We were picked up by shuttle bus early that morning and all four of us were rather ready and raring to go as the concept of riding an elephant was bloody exciting. When we reached the sanctuary after an hours drive, without as much as a word, our guide led us up a ramp where our massive elephant and tiny Thai wrangler were waiting for us! Feeling a tad hurried and pondering whether our travel insurance actually covered us for ‘death by elephant’ Jen and myself were prodded onto one, Dave and Freya another. We were then taken through a murky brown river, out up a jungle path, over a hill and to a local village. (Over the course of the journey we were able to feed our elephant banana treats which they seemed to relish.) Upon reaching the village we sadly bid farewell to our great, grey, hairy mode of transport and were picked up by oxen and cart which took us back to the sanctuary. As we approached our destination our oxen driver put the reins and bamboo stick in my hands and I soon learnt that he wanted me to drive the beasts for the final home straight! After many shakes of the reins, cracks of the stick and inhumane noises that I have not and will not make again, thankfully the oxen began to move albeit at a leisurely pace.

An elephant painting an elephant?!

Back at the sanctuary we were herded back to a ring where we watched an elephant show where the animals performed such tricks as scoring penalty kicks and slam dunks! The absolute highlight came when three elephants painted a tree, a bird and an elephant with such quality that Dave remarked that the standard of art was far better than he could ever personally produce and Jen was so utterly blown away by the spectacle she splashed out and bought the painting of an elephant, by an elephant, for her godson! After the show we were taken to the river shore where we were given a life jacket and coaxed onto a bamboo raft. This took us down stream through the jungle, where occasionally locals would pop to the surface and attempt to sell us ‘refreshments’. After forty odd minutes we landed back on shore and made our way back to Chiang Mai by mini bus.

That evening we met up with Leonie, a friend met in Vietnam, and decided to have a few beers. It was then where we got our first taste of the ladyboys that Thailand is famous for. Visiting a few bars we had a job spotting them before they spotted us. In a certain establishment around eighty percent of the ‘female’ occupants were ladyboys. They would stare at the men in the bar and if one unfortunately caught their gaze that would be it. They would waddle over, demand your name and get far too close and personal. Choosing to leave swiftly we headed to ‘Spicy’ a club recommended by other backpackers, however I can not quite put my finger on why. Apart from our party of eight, the other revellers that occupied the seedy corners of this club where dirty old men reminiscent of Ray Winstone with petite young Thai girls (or boys). Deciding not to linger in the dive for too long we headed for home.
The following day was not too eventful, whilst waiting for the night bus, we utilised the hostels swimming pool, stocked up on supplies for the coming journey but before we knew it we were back in Bangkok the next morning. Booking into the same cheap, trusted hostel we spent our last day with Dave and Freya; browsing the many stalls on Khoasan Road for what felt like the thousandth time and later that evening we dove into the underbelly of Bangkok to see a Ping Pong Show (this doesn't need but be dwelt on too much, but for those who don't know it does not involve the game... for those who do know, enough said!) before they departed at 5am the following morning. After saying sad farewells before the sun rose, Jen and I headed back to bed. We have ended up booking up our trip south through the same tried and tested company we travelled to Chiang Mai with. Our time with Dave and Freya has been amazing, we have seen and done so many brilliant things with them that the past three and half weeks have flown by! It was very sad to see them leave, however we leave Bangkok knowing that the 12th September is lingering ever closer and we have to really make the most of the coming weeks before we return back home to the shire!
Roll on Ao Nang, Phuket, Koh Phangan, Koh Samui and Koh Tao!

I hope you are all well back at home!
Much Love Andy x

22/08/2012

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!

A big ‘Xin chao’ from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. We have been here for a little more than two weeks, however I do no think we have had a busier two since leaving British shores in May!

Traffic in Hanoi.

After leaving Hong Kong, Jen and myself were all to excited to get to the hostel in Hanoi asap because Dave and Freya (close friends from home for those of you who don’t know) had made a lengthy trip out to meet us for three weeks. However we suffered a nightmare visa experience when we arrived in Hanoi airport on the 29th. Our one month visa’s which we had paid for in HK started on the 1st August, two days later than our arrival, yet in Hong Kong we were reassured by Air Asia representatives that we could quite comfortably change this at the visa office in Hanoi airport, how wrong they were! After waiting for what seemed like a day queuing, we were finally seen by two small Vietnamese border guards in military uniform who spoke very little English. In fact, the only English they seemed to know and repeated regularly was: “We send you back to Hong Kong now!” Of course this was not something we wanted to hear, but after examining our passports for a lengthy amount of time, they rummaged around their office drawers, found some Tip-Ex and crudely amended our visas. They then returned our documents to us with toothy grins, and demanded a bribe of $30 USD which we hastily paid.
Eventually, after a taxi journey where we were badly ripped off, it is safe to say we were somewhat worn out when we reached the hostel, however we were immediately greeted by Dave and Freya and the days previous dramas were soon forgotten. Soon we all were catching up over supper and after filling up on food and chat we soon went to bed. The following day we headed back to the airport to pick up Dave’s bag, which had been left in Bangkok and had to be put on a later flight. On the way we decided to negotiate Hanoi’s public bus service and believing I was something of a seasoned veteran of terrible bus services, (braving Herefords 426 as a school boy which in midsummer heat transports vast numbers of sweaty migrant fruit pickers) I was in for something of a shock as Vietnamese buses are something else entirely. After finally finding the correct bus by process of elimination, we, along with what felt like half the population of the city were crammed into the filthy vehicle. The fact that it was 30 degrees or more outside and the air-conditioning did not work obviously didn't help the situation. Nearly two hours later we arrived at the airport dripping with sweat, thankfully there was no hassle picking up Dave’s bag, and learning from the mornings experience we haggled a cheap taxi back to the hostel.

A family vehicle?

That same afternoon we headed out to explore the city on foot and thankfully the rain subsided. Exploring the dainty narrow streets, lined with locals selling their wares was one thing, simply crossing the city’s main roads was another. The reason being is that the vast majority of Vietnamese do not drive cars (because car drivers have to pay 200% more tax), they drive mopeds and they are out on the streets in their millions! Whole families of up to five regularly fit on one moped, usually the kids find themselves on the handle bars, being cradled by a parent or sandwiched between them. This added to the fact that there are no laws of road here in Vietnam (they don’t stop at redlights, and zebra crossings, though they exist they are completely ignored) gives the appearance of absolute anarchy! Needless to say when we returned we were all pumped with adrenaline after spending most of the afternoon dodging oncoming traffic from all angles tooting their high pitched horns.

Our Boat for the Halong Bay Tour.

The next morning we left the buzz of Hanoi on a three day trip to Halong Bay to the east. Seventeen of us were picked up in a minibus, which tankfully had aircon and taken on a four hour drive to the bay! Our guide was a tiny Vietnamese man named David, who despite speaking very good English, was a terrible liar claiming that possessed a Rolls-Royce and Ferrari back in the city. Arriving at the bay, we were transferred from bus to small boat, and from small boat to BIG boat which we would call home for the next days. Equipped with bar, dinning room and sun lounge everything was rather extravagant but the very reasonable price. The weather over the three day trip was amazing, allowing everyone on the boat to appreciate the amazing scenery that surrounded us. Halong Bay is made up of  huge towering emerald green islands sticking out of the blue ocean like the ends of a thousand fingertips.

A view of Halong Bay.

Our first day was spent wandering a gigantic cave in the bay, a favorite attraction of many tour groups which resulted in the experience being again somewhat busy and clammy, (by this point we were all starting to get used to the sweatiness of VN). We then all got into kayaks and were permitted to make our own voyage from island to island, one only had to keep an eye out for large boats travelling through the straights that stop for no-one (much like the moped traffic in Hanoi). Back on the boat that evening, a large banquet of local specialities was prepared for us, and after some unsuccessful squid fishing all seventeen of us had a few drinks and indulged in some rather dated karaoke into the early hours. Freya and Jen’s rendition of the Spice Girls: ‘Wannabe’ being a particular hit with the multi-national passengers and crew.

Cheeky monkey!

The following morning, despite us all feeling rather groggy, we got on another mini bus on Cat Ba Island (the largest island in the bay), which took us to a national park, where we went on a three hour jungle trek to a viewing point on top of a peak. We ascended the steep narrow paths trying to avoid other tourists making their way back down., yet when we reached the top we were greeted with some astounding views of the island and beyond. The only issue was that we soon had to make our way back down the crowded pathways, avoiding tourists coming up! Thankfully the aircon of the bus was waiting for us when we reached the bottom and we were soon brought to Cat Ba Town where we would spend that evening. After unloading our bags we got on yet another boat and were taken to ‘Monkey Island’, the name for which will soon be explained. The isle itself is very small, but contains a white beach and rocky foothills where we hiked to attain impressive views of the bay. The Island is the only one in Northen Vietnam to hold a population of small monkeys, and despite their size, they are very imposing perfecting a death stare that would rival my mothers angry look! The monkeys are also thieves stealing anything people leave on the tables and we soon experienced this first hand, when several of the rogues ambushed us on the island bar. Thankfully they only snatched a can of coke and quickly climbed to the rafters above us and guzzled it greedily! That same night back at Cat Ba Town we headed out with tour mates: South Africans Juan and David to a floating bar. However at 11pm the streetlights in the town were all switched off due to Vietnamese curfews, so we took our cue to head to bed!

Vietnamese fisherman in Halong Bay.

On the final day of our Halong Bay tour, our boat picked us up and took us back through the network of green islands to the mainland where a bus was waiting for us to take us back to Hanoi. When we arrived back in the city, we did not have too much time to spare because we needed to catch a sleeper bus that same evening which was to take us south to Hue, the old imperial capital of Vietnam. Due to us being the last people to board the coach there were a distinct lack of seats. As a result I was placed in the midst of a sizable native family, whilst Dave, Freya and Jen were put next to the bus toilet. So whilst they had to contend with some rather horrid smells wafting through the coach at night, I had to contend with a rather fat Vietnamese two year old clambering in my vicinity and screaming into the early hours. I believe it a matter of personal preference who drew the shorter straws, but thankfully I eventually drifted off and we arrived in Hue at 8am.

Entrance to The Imperial Palace, Hue.

Compared with Hanoi, Hue is much smaller, a tad quieter and more manageable. Ninety percent of the city was destroyed during the Vietnam War, however most of the city has been rebuilt with a Mediterranean feel and the historic sites have been almost all restored brick for brick. One such site is The Citadel which we wandered on our first day. The Citadels walls enclose a space some 10km² with the Imperial Palace centered within. Dave and myself wandered the site for close to an hour and soon found ourselves lost in one of the sites huge courtyards. As we tried to find our way back to the tourist trail we stumbled on scars of the Vietnam War the still remain: walls strewn with bullet holes and small bunkers that still contain hospital stretchers, a stark reminder that the war ended less than four decades ago!

A Dragon Boat

The following day we all got on a Dragon Boat! The name is more impressive than their appearance: Dragon Boats are small wooden boats, equipped with 'chug chug' motors and are decorated with comic dragon heads on their helms. We took the boat ride down the Perfume River to ‘the tombs’ (a collection of  very extravagant mausoleums from the Nguyen Dynasty). After one hours journey down river, our captain ploughed the boat into the river shore, pointed in the vague direction of the tombs and told us to be back within the hour or he would leave without us! Setting off through the countryside on red sand roads we passed Thieu Tri Tomb which was under renovation and soon made it to the tomb of Tu Duc, the grandest in Hue. Seeming as large and even grander than the entire citadel, it came as no surprise at all that the construction of Tu Duc’s tomb sparked a coup. (The emperors luxurious tastes in death reflected those in life: he had over one hundred wives!) After whizzing around in the hour given too us we quickly headed back to the river shore where to our relief and surprise our Dragon Boat was still waiting for us.

Inner Sanctum of Tu Duc.

The next day we had a four hour coach journey south to Hoi An, a city that was largely untouched by the war. So as a result, very old beautiful oriental homes remain alongside the Mediterranean style introduced by the French. It was here that we had an R & R of sorts: the weather was for the most part perfect, so by day we sunbathed by the sea or by the pool ( yes, our hostel had a pool) and by night we indulged in the very cheap delicious cuisine! ‘The Blue Dragon’ resturant served up by far some of the best food any of had tasted since coming travelling and put us in very good humour for the late nights that followed. However the frequent late night drinking sessions in Hoi An did not mix well with our daily mode of transport: cycling. Myself and several other locals on mopeds unfortunately discovered this when I made my way back from the beach in the baking heat after consuming a large meal in an attempt to soak up the poison that remained in my belly from the night before. I don’t think I need to elaborate any further on what would be a rather messy account of the unfortunate event!

Guatama Buddah.

I would like to say we left Hoi An and arrived in Nha Trang refreshed, but after another sleepless night on the sleeper coach, we got in at 6am and hostel room wasn’t ready till 2pm so we ate some breakfast and fell asleep on the beach. It was not till mid afternoon that we returned to the hostel and being a little sunburnt we decided to have a siesta before meeting several friends we met in northern Vietnam for drinks later that evening. The following day which was our final in Nha Trang we decided to see the one of local of sites of interest: Long Son Pagoda. The area contains a large temple full of golden relics, and above it, up many flights of steps on the hilltop sits a giant white Buddah, known as Guatama Buddah. Upon reaching the top we were greeted by beggers or locals trying to sell crap, so we quickly made our way inside the Buddah statue. Inside the statue, we lit incense and had the time to admire the old religious frescos that decorate the walls. That same evening we had our final sleeper coach journey south to Ho Chi Minh City, formally known as Saigon.


Slipping into a tunnel entrance.

 We got into our hostel at 7am the following morning again lacking sleep, so it was amazing to know fresh bed were waiting for us! After having a good snooze, we all got up refreshed and explored the city. Now HCM is very different to Hanoi, firstly it has somewhat more of a commercial western feel, unlike its northern communist counterpart. This in turn seems to have affected the attitude of its people living in HCM, seeming to warm to tourists much more than the people of Hanoi. The cityscape itself is somewhat different too: whilst HCM looks modern and developed, buildings in Hanoi range from modern to old grey dingy flats. We worked our way to the War Remnants Museum, and spent most of the afternoon there. Dedicated to the Vietnam War, the galleries of weapons, torture implements and horrific photos made it a harrowing experience. Continuing on a similar theme, today we headed on a tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels, a vast network of underground passages north of HCM, that were used by the Viet Cong during the war. Before we explored the area, we were sat in front of a very dated, propaganda video, describing the USA as monstrous tyrants who massacred countless innocents. We were then led by a tour guide around the jungle footpaths being allowed down one of the escape shoots and then through a 140 metre stretch of tunnel. The tunnel itself was arched in shape but roughly 3½ ft tall and at its widest 2½ ft wide. Most of it was thankfully lit, but occasionally I had to utilise my camera to light up certain stretches because bulbs had gone. Coming out the other end after nearly ten minutes underground, most people had broken a sweat, but as a result had a new respect of sorts for the Vietnamese guerrilla fighters who spent sixteen years of their lives fighting in the Cu Chi Tunnels.



Inside the Cu Chi Tunnels.

We leave for Bangkok tomorrow evening and I can’t quite believe that my travels will soon be coming to an end. The past months have flown by, especially these past two and a half weeks here in Vietnam. Despite the few downs, there have been twice as many highs, especially that of Dave and Freya coming out to spend time with Jen and myself for a few weeks. It will be great to spend one more week with them in Thailand before they jet off home back to the UK! Vietnam as a country is so very different from any other I have ever personally encountered and given the chance it would have been great to spend slightly longer here and see more of this diverse proud land. I can only hope that Thailand: our final destination will continue to surprise me the way Vietnam has!

I hope you are all in good health and enjoying the remainder of the British summer! From catching the Olympics from time to time it seems like the weather is pretty fine!

Much Love Andy x

Hong Kong!

Whai friends and family! 

Over the past week Jen and myself have explored Hong Kong; from the highest peak to the wettest coastal cave! Arriving from Auckland, New Zealand, after a very turbulent eleven hour night flight (landing at 7.30am local time) all we wanted to do was find somewhere to curl up and sleep. However we had to navigate Hong Kong airport, which is rather massive and comes complete with its own underground train to transport passengers to luggage collection and immigration. Thankfully, due to Chinese efficiency, we breezed through the different stages of security and were on Hong Kong island 

within an hour. Stepping off the MTR air-conditioned train, we were in for a rather nice surprise to learn that Hong Kong was some 15 degrees warmer than New Zealand, reaching highs of 37°C on the day of our arrival! After a very cheap taxi journey we arrived at Merry Terrace, Seymour Road, the home of Claire and John, close family friends, (Claire went to college with mum in Cheltenham) who have very generously allowed us to stay at their flat for the duration of our stay in HK. We were welcomed into the flat by Joy, the family’s helper because Claire was in Australia, and John was in the UK with their children Alex and Emma. We dropped our bags and decided to venture out into the crazy bustling city around us. Finding the escalators that link Mid-Levels and Central, we quickly descended into the heart of the city to explore. Soon we found ourselves in very narrow dainty streets full of stalls selling delicious smelling, fresh oriental food. Eventually, after getting our bearings, we headed back to the flat and had our first lovely lunch of many prepared for us by Joy. It was that same evening that uncle Miles and myself got in contact and organised to meet up for dinner and drinks. After another delicious meal, we were taken to what felt like most of the bars in central Hong Kong and admittedly my memory of the early hours that followed are a hazy blur. 

The following day needless to say was a bit of a write off, suffering from lack of sleep and being somewhat hungover, we picked up some sushi and subway and indulged in a Sherlock marathon in the flat, certain that the next day we would be fresh and revitalised for the coming week. However little did we know that a rather severe Typhoon was heading our way and the next couple of days would be a wash out. Yet, this did not deter Miles and being keen for more drinks, he decided to take us Skybar; a very smart bar which lies on the highest floor (118^th) of the ICC, the tallest tower in HK during the height of the typhoon. As the storm howled around the building and lashed it with thick sheets of rain, which in turn caused the building to move and the marble bar to shake violently, we greedily drank exotic cocktails! Sadly we could not appreciate the views one sees from Skybar that makes it such a desirable drinking location for obvious reasons. After a hazardous walk from the MTR station as the Typhoon raged in the city tearing up trees and bits of building, we got back to find Claire had just returned from Sydney! We later realised that it was dubbed the worst typhoon in 13 years and the number 10 flag was hoisted!

With Claire as our guide we ascended Victoria Peak the next day to see some amazing views of the city despite the weather being rather grey and overcast. It was on the peak that we saw the true power of the Typhoon that had raged the previous day. Trees and shrubs had been torn and thrown across the roads, small landslides blocked pathways and a huge cleanup operation was underway to get the city running back to normal. We had lunch at Hong Kong Cricket Club and after filling up on some lovely Chinese food, we were taken to Stanley Market by Claire and browsed the goods that were on for sale by local merchants. We then explored Stanley, visiting Blake Pier, which once stood on the northern side of the Island and was moved piece by piece to Stanley in the south. Getting home we had our first relatively early night’s sleep and were ready for the ferry journey to the beautiful island of Cheung Chau. Like Hong Kong island, it was not spared by the Typhoon, and trees amongst many other things had been broken and uprooted. Upon arriving Claire treated us to some Dim Sum (dumplings stuffed with vegetables and meat) and we soon started a hike around the island. Making our way on the coastal path we were treated to some amazing views, however a very wet weather front moved in and soon even our umbrellas couldn’t shield us from the monsoon like rain. We quickly made it to a beach and, figuring that I couldn’t get any wetter, I decided to take a swim in the sea. Warming up in the warm water I got changed and we carried on the wet walk round the island. Claire led us to Cheung Po Tsai Cave and kindly gave up her I-Phone so I could use it as torch and venture from one side of the cave to the other whilst Jen and our host walked round to meet me. Even though I was in one side and out the other within ten minutes the cave was very dark, warm, smelly and wet, (something similar to Hereford’s Play nightclub if you have ever been) but well worth the visit. We eventually made it back to the town, and after a late lunch caught the ferry back to Hong Kong. 

On Thursday Jen and I spent the day in Kowloon whilst Claire picked up Emma from the airport. Visiting local museums we came out educated on Hong Kong’s history and later in the day we went to a special exhibition of China’s terracotta warriors. Afterwards, we walked to the famous night market on Temple Street and bought some more cheap tack and food! Sadly due to the wet weather there was no Chinese opera to watch, so we made our way back to Hong Kong Island. That same evening I met up again with Miles, who took me to a bar in Soho and over many beers we had a good, albeit rather expensive catch up! Yesterday we were taken round Sai Ying Pun by Claire, an area of Hong Kong which is famous for its huge number of shops selling all kinds of wears, in particular exotic foods; such as shark fin, sea horse and many fruits I have never heard of before. Claire very generously took us out for two meals yesterday, Dim Sum for lunch at City Hall, followed by a delicious Thai in Wan Chai for dinner. Last night we all pulled an all nighter to revel in patriotic bliss whilst watching the opening ceremony of the London Olympics. I eventually got two hours sleep at around 7am this morning; needless to say today hasn’t been the most productive. Our exhaustion was illustrated when we missed the ferry to Lantau Island to visit the ‘big Buddha’ statue, instead we visited HK’s botanical gardens and our reserve plans of visiting Victoria Peak again on a beautiful day such as today never happened. Tonight we are hopefully meeting Miles for more drinks one last time before we leave for Hanoi, Vietnam tomorrow, where we meet Dave and Freya who are joining us for three weeks, happy days! Hong Kong is an amazing bustling city, which so diverse in many ways, and despite the awful weather, thanks to Claire and Miles we have seen the sites and really got a taste for HK life! I would like to thank Miles for meeting up with both Jen and myself and giving us a very large and delicious dose of the night life here. I would also like to thank Claire, for not only giving up her time to guide us around the city she loves, but also for feeding us and putting a roof over our heads for the past week! You have both made our time here so much fun and really shown us what an amazing place Hong Kong is! We are both now looking forward to really delving further into Eastern Asia and discovering what delights we can find!

New Zealand!

After our remaining few days in Fiji, where our team of twelve said emotional farewells to one another and, of course, to the emerald islands we had called home for five weeks, Jen and myself departed for Auckland, New Zealand. Being rather optimistic (or other people may call it ignorant) about Kiwi weather, I found myself wearing beach attire on the flight and I was in for somewhat of a shock when we stepped out of Auckland airport into our first taste of NZ winter weather. However before I could deal with my slight clothing issue, we were whisked away by shuttle bus and taken to our campervan rentals depot.

We were quickly briefed and soon we were on the open road in our new camper, ‘Ted’, yet we had quite literally no idea where we were. Despite this, we found a supermarket, stocked up on vital supplies (including blonde hair dye) and navigated our way to a campsite in Remeura, a suburb of Auckland, where we started to acclimatise. It was on that same evening that I made a decision, that would effect and continue to effect my physical appearance to this day; to utilise the recently purchased hair dye. With the aid of Jen, (who may it be known did a fantastic job of fully covering my brown head of hair with the blonde dye) I was under the impression I would emerge from the shower with a tone of hair reminiscent of the colour I sported only year ago. However as I wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror and peered through the mist at my reflection I was in for a shock, a gingery shock. Needless to say, the attempt to dye my hair had gone rather awry and I now bear the shame of an angry ginger muff, lesson learnt the hard way (and hopefully that explains why I am wearing a hat in most of my NZ photos!)
After a couple of days in Auckland, where we briefly met up with Emma S from our Fiji expedition, saw the sites and vitally stocked up on some cheap warm clothes, we started out on our tour of North Island. Heading east from the city, we negotiated the winding coastal roads of the Coromandel Peninsula, stopping off at towns Miranda and then Thames where, to our disbelief, we coincidentally met Emily from Fiji in a supermarket! After a second goodbye, she headed to Rotorua with the Kiwi Experience, whilst we headed north toward Coromandel on what we were told by many was some of the most beautiful coastline in all of NZ. Yet our hopes were soon dampened as a very wet weather front moved in and all the beautiful scenery was shrouded by heavy showers and fog. This relentless rain did not cease for two straight days and caused flash flooding in Auckland, meanwhile we continued  around the peninsula the following day to Hot Water Beach. Famous for its ‘hot’ natural pools on the beach, I was keen to get involved, so I stripped down to swim shorts to scout out the pools, a decision I would soon regret. Whilst Jen found a local café to warm up and have a chai latte, I was lashed with a biting high wind and freezing rain so upon finding the pools to say I was fairly cold would be an understatement. As a result, I’m afraid to say when I eventually found the pools, I took total disregard of the several elderly couples stewing away, and eagerly leapt in the nearest one that was free. However it was within the space of about five seconds that I was back out of the pool cursing under my breath, the reason being that the natural water wasn’t hot at all , it was boiling. Being rather disgruntled, I trudged back to the camper and we made our way to Waihi Beach where we endured the rest of the shoddy weather.

The following day we headed inland to Matamata in an attempt to escape the appalling weather. Though, we also visited this small farming community because it is home to the set of Hobbiton from The Lord of the Rings! (It may now be a good time to explain to people who don’t know that I am somewhat of a LOTR freak, being a huge fan since the tender age of twelve. For this reason I took it upon myself to visit as many sets and filming locations from the movies during our time here. However I will try to keep my LOTR descriptions and discoveries to a minimum in attempt not to bore you.) Thankfully when we reached the farmland on which the set has been permanently built, the rain had stopped completely and the sun was trying to come out, in my humble opinion, conditions were perfect. During the two hour tour which I highly recommend to anyone, we passed such Hobbit abodes as Bag End and we were even allowed inside one of the homes. Due to the set being so large and utterly convincing, apart from the abundance of Japanese tourists, it really felt as if one was in the movie and I came out of the tour on a high on which I don’t think I have yet come down from.
We spent that same night in Rotorua, a lakeside town, with some spectacular scenery. The following morning we drove up to the locally famous Blue and Green Lakes, which lie at the roots of mount Tarawera, an active volcano. However the lakes were shrouded with a thick mist, so instead of waiting around for it to clear we headed to Taupo, a city which lies on the northern shore of Lake Taupo which is the crater of one of the two only active supervolcanoes in the world! On the way to the city, we drove down ‘The Thermal Explorer Highway’, a fitting name, as we could look north, south, east or west and we could see signs to geysers, hot springs, hot mud pools, or the natural wonders themselves. One of these wonders was Kerosene Creek, a piping hot river reaching highs of forty degrees which, of course, I couldn’t resist, so we parked up and I took the plunge. Unlike Hot Water Beach, the water wasn’t scolding and thankfully there were no OAP’s slowly cooking in the vicinity. The only problem; I left the water carrying an odour of rotten eggs that clung to me for the rest of the day until I showered in Taupo.
We left the lakeside city the following day for Napier on the east coast, and after a long day of driving we parked up the camper mere inches from the charcoal black sanded beach and headed to one of the many local wineries the area is famous for. After a very delicious free wine tasting session, sampling ten scrumptious wines, we headed back to the campervan where Jen inevitably went for an impromptu wine snooze, whilst I went for coastal walk in the cool winter sunshine. That same evening we decided to go back to the same winery, indulge in much more of the wine we had earlier tasted. We then headed into the city, went to a few bars, however, I soon noticed that Jen was snoozing again, so we retreated to bed. After a rather hungover skype session with home, we departed down the coast toward Wellington, stopping off at Masterton. On that very journey, after stopping off at a Kiwi sanctuary below Mount Bruce, I was forced to pull over the vehicle because I thought we had a puncture. The steering became very queer all of a sudden, yet when I inspected the tyres everything was in tiptop shape. It was only later that we found out we had driven during an earthquake and the seismic waves had affected the cars steering!

Before reaching Wellington, we decided to hike up to the Putangirua Pinnacles which again featured in LOTR as the ‘Dimholt Road’. The Pinnacles are naturally formed towering limestone rock faces weathered over millions of years by wind and water in to huge mythical shapes and structures. The same night we spent the night in Upper Hutt, a suburb of New Zealand’s capital, and stayed up till 5am in a freezing campsite kitchen to watch the Wimbledon men’s final on a tiny 10in X 10in TV with terrible reception. I don’t think I need to tell you more other than it was a very cold and disappointing affair. Upon arriving in Wellington, which is considerably smaller than Auckland, we spent the afternoon walking around art galleries and museums. On our second and final day in the city, whilst Jen spent another sight seeing, I decided to go on a rather nerdy eight hour Lord of the Rings set locations tour in and around the city. Over the course of the day, we were taken to such locations as Isengard, Rivendell, Helms Deep, Minas Tirith, Outer Shire and many more. At the end of the day we were also taken to the Weta Cave to see how the CGI and special effects were done in the films and then to Stone Street Studios to see where the rest of the trilogy was shot!

The following day we left the capital and we headed north toward Fielding to visit Jen’s kiwi relatives. As we left the urban sprawl and made our way north close to Palmerstone North the landscape gradually started to look more and more like the valleys of Wales. The only few things that reminded us that we were thousands away from home were the Fern Trees (exotic looking and local to NZ) and the white peaks of the Ruahine Range soaring into the sky in the east. Jen’s relatives who we stayed with were sheep farmers and it was very refreshing to live within an agricultural setting for three days. We were welcomed very warmly into the household of Richard, Rachel, Emma and Daniel Pettigrew and upon our arrival we were offered a delicious lunch and a beer instantly appeared in my hand (naturally I felt right at home.) We were given a tour of the farmland and local area during the afternoon and in the evening Rachel cooked us roast pork (which coincidently was the first roast either of us had laid eyes on let alone eaten since leaving the UK in May) whilst Richard made sure we always had a drink in hand. Needless to say I had one too many and unsurprisingly it was my turn for a booze snooze in the guest bedroom. The following day Emma, Jen and myself went for lunch at Norman and Jill’s home (parents of Rachel and godparent of Jen‘s Dad) where we were joined by Jill’s sister Bridget and again over a lovely meal Jen was told about the very confusing history of her family (her grandmother and Jill are double cousins; Jen’s grandmother’s mother married Jill’s mother’s brother… very complicated) and about those who moved over to New Zealand in the 1940’s. That same evening back on the farm we went out Possum hunting. For those of you who do not know Possums are a cross between a rat, squirrel and monkey. For several hours we went around by quad bike with two rifles whilst Rachel shone a powerful light into the trees where the Possums were lurking. NZ farmers hunt Possums because they spread TB and their fur is worth $100 per kg. We were shooting late into the night which meant getting up in the morning when we left the Pettigrews all the more difficult. We left the farmhouse fed up, looking much healthier, however not looking forward to our first night in two sleeping back in camper.

After leaving Fielding we were met by some astounding views of the snowy white mountain peaks that fill the Tongariro National Park. We made our way back up north from Feilding passing through Turangi and Cambridge, however another awful weather front moved in and we hardly left the camper due to the severity of the rain storms. When the rain eventually started to subside we spent a night in the rolling fir covered hills of Waingaro, in what was probably the creepiest campsite in the world. As we paid our fee at the gate and made our way up to our allotted spot, we realised that all around us coiled the skeleton of an old water park. The pools were all a murky brown and the old faded slides were caked in dirt. (It reminded us both of the stereotypical haunted carnival that feature in horror films). The campsite was also home to a rather loony old crone called Rose, who made a habit of calling Jen, Jan and myself David, and also kept warning us not to make a mess?!  Unsurprisingly we made a quick escape the following morning when we heard the river levels were rising which would in turn trap us there for the at least another night of horror.

We made our way north of Auckland and into the most amazing clear blue skies and sunshine to visit more of Jen’s relatives who live in Mangawhai Heads: Pat and Beatrice. Living in a beautiful area that reminded me of the affluent neighbourhoods you see in the California we were both taken in by the sunny and stunning views. On top of that the coastline is one of the most popular for surfers in all of NZ! Like the Pettigrews they cooked us up a feast and we were later joined by their children who brought pictures of Jen’s Dad looking very youthful and again gave Jen lots of family history. We left them this morning and we tried to explore as much of the Northlands as humanly possible in one day, visiting Waipu, Whangarei, Matapouri and Matakohe. Thankfully due to the subtropical climate of Northlands we have experienced some amazing sunny hot weather, and it is truly bizarre that Kiwi’s call this winter! 

Tomorrow we part with our campervan and spend two more days in Auckland before we fly out to Hong Kong and start our tour of Eastern Asia. New Zealand is such a beautiful country and even though it is a real shame we could not find the time to explore South Island, we have been travelling to different locations on North Island on a day to day basis. We driven over through some of the most beautiful contrasting scenery and met so many lovely people, especially the family that Jen has out here. I can only hope that I can return to New Zealand within the next few years before its too late so I can fully appreciate what this country has to offer, because three weeks is nowhere near enough time to fully travel a country that offers so much.

Fiji!

Bula family and friends! I am writing to you from a very cold New Zealand. Over the past five weeks I have been volunteering in Fiji and  I have had such an amazing time; met some truly inspirational people and worked alongside some of the nicest I have ever come across. Think Pacific is a truly incredible organisation and the effect it has had on the villages on Moturiki island alone in just three years is profound. So before I get into the nitty gritty of what I have been doing, I would like to say that if anyone is ever considering doing a volunteering project that it is absolutely unique and will give you a real taste of traditional Fijian culture, choose Think Pacific!

After a fifteen hour flight, a six hour layover in Auckland followed by a three and a half hour flight to Nadi, whilst suffering from a rather monstrous hangover, Jen and myself were somewhat tired when we reached our hostel: Smugglers Cove, just outside Nadi. After two days acclimatising, sunbathing and drinking, we met up with our Think Pacific team and leaders at Nadi airport. With twelve volunteers and two leaders in total we set off on a rather cramped, hot bus  journey round the island to the capital Suva. It was in this journey that we all started to get to know one another so it’s probably fitting that I introduce them to you now.  I’ll start with the leaders and to save time, sum them up in three words. Luke: a beardy, Cornish patriot and Lulu: a big, wise Bear. In regards to our team the twelve comprised of Amelia, Eliza, Jo, Emma S, Emma B, Rachael, Emily, Irish Luke, Grant, Harry, Jen and myself. After two hours of bonding in the tight confinements of the bus, we stopped off in Suva the Fijian capital (which is of a similar size to Hereford, so rather small) to pick up formal Fiji dress. Us guys bought Bula shirts (Hawaiian’ish shirts)  and pocket sulus (something reminiscent of a kilt) and the girls  all bought a colourful variety of jumbo dresses (not the most stylish long dresses) and sulus.


After leaving the urban sprawl of Suva we headed toward the coast where we got into two small boats in a murky brown river and headed down stream through Amazonesque green jungle out into the open sea, our destination being the tiny exotic island of Caqalai. After a fairly choppy voyage over the brilliant blue waters, we landed on the island and moved into a twelve bedroom dorm which stood mere metres from the sea. It was on Caqalai that we, the team, really started to get to know each other, as we had five days on the island with only a few project briefings whilst the rest of the time we had to ourselves. Days were spent  playing volleyball, rugby, trekking to Snake Island and of course sunbathing for Harry and the girls. In the evening we played lots of games, such as Take Me Out and Mafia. (We all later joked that the latter may have actually sparked some mistrust amongst team members). It was during our time on Caqalai that we also went to Nuibesaga a village on Moturiki Island and had our first Sevu Sevu (welcoming ceremony) and our first taste of Kava, otherwise known as Grog or Mud water. This beverage, which we all soon became very accustomed to, is not alcoholic but does leave one feeling rather sleepy and sometimes with a rather numb tongue. After leaving the village we headed back to Caqalai for our last few days before our project started.


When we left for Savuna Village, where our a Think Pacific expedition was based, we had quite literally no idea of what a welcome we were about the receive, when we arrived on the rocky shores beneath the village. The villagers has strung up a sizable banner saying ‘Welcome Home Think Pacific’ between two trees and whilst we ascended the cliff path to the village we greeted by the entire population singing a welcome song to us in their mother tongue.  After personally meeting all nineteen village members we quickly got into formal dress and had our Sevu Sevu with the village. This was followed by a banquet of fresh exotic vegetables and fish that could have fed fifty! After gorging ourselves we headed to the village hall for our first taste of Fijian dance; hophop. The music that accompanies hophop tends to be played live by a number of male Fijians who sing a vast selection of traditional music. Equipped with guitars, ukuleles, the deft, grass guitar and some of the best vocal harmonies I have ever heard, the Fijian men kept the performance up all night, whilst the Fijian women and the remaining men kept us dancing all night. Although the villagers quickly taught us their traditional dances, we soon brought a few of our own moves to the village hall. Irish Luke became a quick favourite of the Fijian women because he introduced them to such moves as ‘catching the fish’, ‘putting in a light bulb’ and what he later dubbed as ‘digging up Kasava’. Needless to say our bodies hurt from excessive frolicking the following morning.

After a couple of days of getting used to village life and getting to know our families who we were living with for the following four weeks, the real expedition began. As a group we had choice of either teaching in Moturiki District School or Kindi, or working in Savuna village itself on the build. Over the next four weeks we would have the opportunity to have a go at all three options changing if we liked after each week. If we taught, we would have to contend with a thirty minute boat ride to the village of Nasesara, where we would then trek for twenty minutes to school every day to and fro.  I decided to spend my first week in Kindi alongside Eliza and Amelia, however I don’t believe any of us had quite mentally prepared ourselves for what was coming our way and foolishly chose to ignore the leaders warnings that the kids in Kindi lick quite literally anything and everything! Joking aside we spent our mornings helping Laisa, an amazing woman who somehow keeps twenty odd crazy three year olds in check five days a week. Despite their habits of licking windows, climbing up walls, occasionally beating you up and urinating in quite inappropriate places it was ordered chaos and overall a great experience.

In the afternoon all the team partook in coaching sport and whilst the girls coached netball to different age groups, the boys coached rugby, myself being assigned to the under thirteens. Our aim of the four weeks was to help our own team progress as far a possible in a coming tournament in Levuka, the old capital of Fiji. It would be fair statement to say that all the MDS rugby teams needed a fair amount of work if they were going to go any distance in the competition, purely because all age groups did not understand a large amount  of the rules and their handling of the ball was very poor. Despite this, if there is one thing the Fijian boys did not lack its aggression. For instance on my first session, I had to pull two scrapping boys apart and in the process of doing so, the smaller of the two roared and I quote ‘I WANT TO RIP HIS HEAD OFF!‘ Yet on serious note, I personally never saw any of the boys shy away from tackles,  it was their technique that let them down because they all had a tendency to tackle from the neck and above. So taking all these factors into consideration and under the guidance of the leaders we aimed to improve the boys basics: handling, tackling and their elementary understanding of the laws in preparation for the coming tournament.

In the second week of project I signed myself up for the build. During the first week, the building team under the guidance of Jimbo, the expeditions building manager had painted the outside of the church and given the roof a fresh under coat of paint. It was our job in week two to start the construction of the showers and give the church roof its final coat of a turquoise paint. However after Jen and Amelia fell ill with a curious fever half the team, including myself, dropped like flies. The different doctors of Moturiki Island all had different ideas, some thought we were suffering from a mild case of typhoid, whilst others thought we had stomach infections, however it was nothing a five day course of antibiotics could not sort out. The day or two the afflicted took off would have potentially slowed down the build had it not been for the Fijian men of the village who got really stuck in and helped out on a day to day basis. Despite six team members being ill, week two was very short; we watched a regional sevens tournament in Bureta on the Friday and we had a bank holiday Monday that same weekend for the Queens birthday. It was for this reason that I didn’t think I spent anywhere near enough time on the building as I originally wanted too, so for week three I decided to spend some time on the build and have a real crack at it.

During week three on the build, we spent rather a large amount of time on a rather questionable looking ladder painting the church roof. Every now and again, due to someone shifting their weight the ladder would drop a few centimetres giving everyone clinging on a shock whilst they tried not drop paint brushes and pots onto the volunteers below them.  For those who did not fancy cooperating with what was later dubbed as ‘the ladder of death’, the new showers were built left right and centre. After setting a concrete base, we would erect a wooden frame and then cover the timber skeleton with corrugated iron equipped with a sturdy door. The villagers of Savuna themselves were great to the volunteers on the build. We had cake and lemon tea break most days at mid morning followed by a huge lunch before we headed off for sports coaching at school. Apart from sports coaching  we also had another extracurricular activity to oversee; The House Shout! For those of you who don’t know, a house shout is where the four houses that pupils are split up into at a school compete in a singing competition. Usually a house shout is taken somewhat seriously back home at schools in the UK. However if one wants to see the epitome of the word passion, one only needs to go to Moturiki District School and see how seriously the kids take their own house shout. Amelia, Jo and myself were assigned to blue house: Soqe, and we quickly shotgunned the classic chart topping tune that is One Direction, What makes you Beautiful. Having just five fifteen minute sessions to teach them the song without the aid of CD or Ipod we thought we had a rather arduous task ahead.  Yet it was only a matter of days until half of MDS including members of other school houses were busting out the tune whilst getting from class room to class room.

Whilst we spent the daytime having a great time, building, teaching, coaching sport or getting ready for The House Shout, the evenings where we didn’t pass out at 9pm or earlier from fatigue the Think Pacific team had organised many different events and activities to give us a full taste of Fijian Island life. For instance we spent a few evenings making certain objects the villagers still used such as weaving grass baskets or walls. We also attempted to carve our own Bilou bowls out of Coconut shell with a shard of glass (these are the bowls that Fijians drink Kava out of as a community). We also had a chance to represent Savuna in sport against the very talented Nasavuti (a village neighbouring MDS) locals at rugby and netball. Needless to say neither the guys or girls managed to win a fixture. Another activity that most of us had a crack at was spear fishing: the object to shoot sleeping fish at night from a range of several centimetres whilst swimming in the sea. After hearing that the first group consisting of Grant, Emily, Amelia and Luke had all shot a near one hundred percent success rate bringing back a dozen fish between them, I was quietly confident that I would follow suit. Yet when it was my groups turn to go out I was to return from the ocean empty handed and with my head hanging in shame. Whilst Harry, Emma B and Jen had shot many fish between them, missing none, I, having four shots at sleeping fish from mere centimetres and hit none. I still blame my attire, at the time claiming that as a result I had the manoeuvrability of a beached whale with a spear gun, whilst Jen was looking smug and trendy in her wet suit. On almost every other night we spent the evening drinking Kava and hophop’ing around either in Savuna village hall or in the other villages local to MDS.

During the weekends over the project, if didn’t have Saturday to ourselves snorkelling, playing rugby etc etc, we would either continue the build as a group of twelve, or even once or twice we were invited to the village plantations with the men to root up and harvest the food we would be eating during our Sunday meal. Sundays were dedicated to the Sabbath, so it was strictly no activities allowed, and we as group either spent the day relaxing out in the sun or drinking Grogg with the villagers all afternoon. My favourite weekend of the entire project was were we went on an all day trek around Moturiki Island after a late friday night grogging in Neicabecabe, whose villagers I may add are among the most hardcore  hophop’ers we encountered on Moturiki. To give you and example, before we departed the village to start our sizable trek, they insisted on more grog and hophop at 9am for an hour! After finally leaving Neicabecabe, already exhausted and with mild cases of numb tongue, we headed around the island in a big loop visiting  villages Daku, Iluibau and Wawa, all in which we had sizable Kava sessions. Needless to say by the time we were back home in Savuna, the sun had set and we were all grogged out.





When it came to our final week of project we had finished at the build; the showers were finished, the church was fully painted and the new water pump installed. And teaching, kindi and sports coaching had finished at school, (the MDS kids had sang us a very touching leaving song which had left a few of the girls a tad teary.) We only had the rugby and netball tournament in Levuka and the House Cup Competition left before we were finished at MDS for the foreseeable future. As I have already mentioned the MDS children were very fired up for The House Shout, and when the day of the House Cup was upon us , they were even more geared up because it combined House Speaking (speeches), House Sports and of course the shout. To cut a rather long and tragic tale short, our house, Soqe, came joint first in both the Shout and Speaking and the House Cup seemed within our grasp. However the Soqe kids somewhat lacked the sporting prowess of the other houses, not winning a single event in the House Sport and so we came overall a rather disappointing and resounding fourth place. The sports tournament in Levuka itself was also a day of ups and downs. In the first half the day the girls and all their netball teams didn’t loose and single game and all the boys teams made it to their semi-finals. Things were looking very bright then, until very dark and ominous looking clouds descended from the green hills towering over us. And within a matter of minutes the dry pitch and court were turned into brown lakes. The winds picked up and the day shelters and stands supporters had made were ripped apart or blown away. We were soon informed that the entire tournament was cancelled and so we had a very wet and rough boat journey back home to Savuna.

Our last weekend in Savuna village and on Moturiki Island soon dawned upon us. It is fair to say that that weekend was unsurprising emotional. After spending four amazing weeks with such lovely, inspirational people who had welcomed us, twelve strangers, into their village it then personally became to me clear how much Think Pacific and our project meant to them. After a very emotional Saturday church service where both villagers and team members made teary speeches and sang songs together in the freshly decorated church, we sat down for what would be our last supper in Savuna. The men had slaughtered one of their pigs, so needless to say we porked out that evening on the banquet prepared. After the meal (all of us being rather stuffed) we made our way to the village hall for our last grog and hophop session  in the village. After much crazy dancing and drinking we decided to surprise our hosts by singing them a song we had written over the course of our stay. After which followed more frolics which continued all night. I would like to say I made it till dawn, but when I started to fall asleep in the hall itself at 4am, I knew my tiny Fijian bed was calling me for one last quick nap. Upon being woken up by hophop king Luke, who informed me that he and grogaholic Amelia had found the stamina to stay awake all night it was time to lug our bags to village hall, where we had two more bowls of Kava with some very grogged and tired looking Fijians. We descended the path down to the sea, one last time with the entire village and as our two boats drew away from the shore, the people of Savuna sang one last farewell song whilst waving goodbye on the beach. I don’t think any of us quite imagined how truly heartbreaking it would be too leave and how close we had become with people who are so very different to us. We had all learnt so much from the Fijian way of life, however if I personally acquired one piece of knowledge from the people of Savuna who have such an immense sense of community, it is to cherish and love your family and friends above all others, because no-one or nothing will ever be more important.

Living on Moturiki Island, in Savuna and volunteering with Think Pacific has been such an amazing experience, I believe it changed every single team mate for the better. Every one of the twelve volunteers where such lovely people and friendships have been made that will last a lifetime. I would like to thank Jo, Jen Emma S, Emma B, Eliza, Emily, Rachael, Amelia, Grant, Luke, Harry for being such a fantastic group of people to work along side. Both Think Pacific leaders Luke and Lulu were also an inspiration, keeping us organised so efficiently for the five weeks and working harder than anyone else making sure the project stayed afloat. Think Pacific is such a brilliant organisation and does so much for the people Moturiki and Batiki and without Ronnie, Simon and Harry it would quite simply not exist, so thank you guys and keep up the amazing work. Lastly despite them probably never being able to read this I would like to thank the people of Savuna for welcoming us into their close knit community for four weeks and making us feel so at home in the village. Their trust in us was so very reassuring and gave us all the determination to see the project successfully through from beginning to end. You are all already sorely missed by us twelve volunteers.