Chile 3rd January – 26th January 2011

After Australia I was now running low on funds and relying more on my credit card, so Chile actually turned out to be the last leg of my tour. When I arrived in Santiago I discovered a country that wasn’t typically South American, Chile is quite prosperous and has more of a European feel.

I started in Santiago where I visited the beautiful park of Santa Lucia, rode on the funicular San Cristobel up to the statue of the Virgen de la Immaculada Concepcion and beautiful views over the city and visited the huge complex of markets where I hung out with some of the locals enjoying a few beers and discussions on football.

In the hostel I met Milena from Sao Paulo, Brazil and we decided to head to the coast for a couple of days. First we visited the port town of Valparaiso, in the end the town turned out to be quite disappointing as there was not a lot there to even to fill a day and overall the town was drab and run down. The highlight was the graffiti exhibition spread around half a dozen of the streets and I was surprised to hear that Milena had heard of Banksy. The next day we went to Vina del Mar to relax on the beach before I returned to the hostel in Santiago and Milena carried on up the coast to La Serena.

I spent just the night in Santiago before heading to Castro on Isla de Chiloe to see the Palafitos. The Palafitos are houses on stilts built by the sea and are moved throughout the year when the tide changes. I was hoping that I would get the opportunity to help somebody quite literally ‘move house’. Unfortunately the opportunity never arose, but it was great to see these houses that are unique to this area of Chile. I also did some walking around the many national parks and small islands in this area including Puqueldon, Cucao and Curaco, where I managed to get soaked in the rain pretty much every day.

I then headed to Ancud, where I met Mario and his wife who were from Temuco who took me to the Ancud festival which included traditional dancing, rodeo and the local speciality of curanto. Curanto is a mixture of shell fish, meat, potato and vegetables which is cooked traditionally by digging a hole in the ground, building a fire in the hole to heat stones and when the fire dies down the heat from the stones cook the curanto in the ground, it was delicious and well accompanied by the Chilean red wine.

Again I headed back to Santiago with a stop at Temuco on the way. In Santiago I met another Brazilian, Ayrton and together we visited the Museo de Arte Precolombino, which contains some amazing artefacts including Chinchorro mummies which was followed by a meal in the fish market.

I then headed to La Serena where I had decided to spend a few days before heading on to the Atacama Desert, as it turned out I spent most of the time in the hostel drinking cheap beer at £1.20 for 6 pack as I decided whether I should continue on my trip building more debt on my credit card or head back to the UK. In the end I decided to head back home, although I promised myself that I would have to return at a later date to discover more of South America.

Australia 4th November 2010 – 2nd January 2011

My first port of call in Australia was Sydney. I did all the usual things, taking photos of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House and then I bought a Ford Laser with the plan of driving up the east coast, then across to Alice Springs, then Perth before driving back for my flight from Sydney to Santiago, Chile.

My next stop was a two day drive to Byron Bay where I bought a surf board and did some surf lessons. On one of the lessons I met Ahmed, a student from the Saudi Arabia, who invited me to spend New Year with him and his friends when I got back to Sydney.

Next I went to Nimbin, an “alternative” little town, which reminded me of Glastonbury, the town was crammed full of artists, drug dealers and alternative shops and restaurants. I found a cheap campsite about fifteen kilometres away which had beautiful views of the rolling hills and valleys and every night the kangaroos would hop through the site. It was close to here that I saw more first snake, a large python which stretched across half the width of the road and I also had to flee the campsite bathroom when I spotted a huge huntsman spider on the window by the toilet.

I then headed to Brisbane to watch the 3^rd day of the 1^st Ashes test, which turned out to be one of the few that was dominated by the Ozzys with Hussey and Haddin putting on a record stand for the Gabba of 307.

Another two days drive and I arrived at Airlie Beach, because of the rain I spent quite a bit more time than I had planned in hostels and hotels and only camped when it looked like it was going to be dry as my tent was not the greatest letting in water when the rain got heavy. I tried to get to one of the remote Whitsunday islands in order to camp out on my own deserted paradise island, unfortunately I couldn’t organise a boat out to the island as it was never sunny for long enough. I spent a lot of time waiting for the rain to clear drinking with Rick, an Australian guy who had grown up in Knowle, Bristol.

In the end I had to scrap the idea of getting out to the island and instead I booked a diving trip to the Great Barrier Reef. It was my first time diving and I found it strange breathing under water at first until you started to become distracted by the huge and colourful fish and the coral all around me.

My next drive was for three days to Alex Springs and because the floods were just starting I was wondering if I was going to make it. Fortunately for me most of the problems were further south so I managed to get through.

I camped for several nights in the East Mcconalls, in a beautiful spot by the river, which in December is normally dry, but due to the extra rainfall had plenty of water in it although the sun was still incredibly hot, I even felt my skin burning while I was sat in the shade.

I spent a day driving to Uluru (Ayers Rock) arriving just in time to see the sunset and the way the rock appears to change colours as the sun drops lower in the sky. I camped out that night and was awoken in time for sunrise by an army of ants that had eaten through my tent and were marching all over me.

My next drive was four days including 200kms down a dirt track filled with Kangaroos, beautiful birds including emus and parrots, which was an adventure, but I was concerned that I would run out of petrol or that the birds and animals would destroy the car if I hit them. Then it started getting dark and at one point I was driving on a wall the width of the car with a lake on one side and a sheer drop on the other. I also had a 1000km detour around the flood water before I eventually got back to the east coast where I hoped to do some more surfing and relaxing on the beach before New Year.

The weather though was getting worse, I spent Christmas in New England National Park on the Waterfall Way and then decided to head to The Blue Mountains where I finally found some sun. I stayed in a place called Lithgow, while I was there I went to see Zig Zag railway, which is so called because the track zig zags up the mountain. Also while in the Mount Victoria Museum I met a guy who offered to show me around the area, he showed me Hartley Vale set in a beautiful valley where he had grown up as a child, the ammunitions factory in Lithgow which is now owned by Thales and a big dam and power stations just outside the town.

I then made my way to spend New Year’s Eve in Sydney with Ahmed and his friends from Sydney University. From the Harbour Bridge national park we watched the spectacular firework display before heading back to a house for a party that finished just as it was starting to get light.

India 17th October – 3rd November

This time it was Marcus who decided that he wanted to stay longer, so I set out about 12 hours ahead of him for Varanasi where we would meet up again. Lumbini is very close to the India border but it still took a rickshaw ride and 2 buses before I reached the border and walked across into India. I couldn’t find a direct bus to Varanasi, but I found one to Gorakhpur where I knew I could catch a train the rest of the way.

After the 4 hour bus journey I went to the train station to book the night train to Varanasi and discovered the craziness of Indian bureaucracy. To book the ticket you had to fill in a form, which I filled out to the best of my ability as most of the information only the attendant would know. He handed it back to me in a disinterested way and said “train number?”, “I don’t know?”, he then told me the train number and I wrote it in and handed the form back, he pushed it back, “time and date?”, “what’s available?”, he tells me what time and date is available and I fill it in and push it back to him. This continues 4 or 5 more times and eventually everything is filled in before he tells me that no trains are available today, so I ask him “what about tomorrow?”, he pushes the form back, “nothing available today”, I scribble on the date for the following day and pushed it back, “no sleepers”, I fill in 3^rd class and finally we’re there and I have a ticket to Varanasi.

Having been up since 4am I book myself into a hotel close to the train station, unfortunately I hardly managed to get any sleep due to the noisy main road and the noise from the festival going on outside my window. I finally got to sleep sometime in the morning and slept through my alarm, when I woke I checked the time and found that I only had ½ hour to get the train. I quickly got ready, ran to the station and jumped on the train just as it was about to set off on the 7 hour journey. The journey was kind of depressing due to the poverty and squalor that so many Indians have to live in. Out of the train I saw slums surrounded by huge piles of rubbish, sick looking animal eating whatever they can find. At some stops beggars came onto the train including 2 really unpleasant lady boys who aggressively threatened everybody in the carriage for money. I thought somebody had made a mess in the toilet as there was an unbearably bad smell that started about 10 minutes before they reached our carriage and continued 10 minutes after. At one point one of them was going to show me whether they were male or female by lifting up their sari, while his friend shouted while baring his rotten teeth.

When I arrived I got a rickshaw to central Varanasi and even as we went along the street people were trying to sell me things, direct me to overpriced hotels and one even offered me a rickshaw ride even though I was already in one. I checked my e-mails and found that Marcus had already arrived and so headed to the hotel right on the Ganges. The same rickshaw driver dropped me off on the street and pointed me down a maze of alleys. A boy approached me and offered to show me the way, the alleys were narrow and covered in animal excrement, shops and temples were on either side, cows and dogs strolled around, including one very sick looking dog with a badly infected neck from fighting and another that was dead with its legs pointing to the sky. When I reached the hotel I had a vegetarian Daal Baht having decided to become vegetarian in Varanasi because of the condition of the animals, while I ate enjoyed the views over the river.

After the peace and tranquilly of the Korean monastery in Lumbini, Varanasi came as quite a shock, whenever I ventured out of the refuge of the hotel I was hit by the chaos of the surrounding city, while walking around the streets you are constantly getting approached by beggars, people trying tell sell you something, people wanting to give you directions for money, give you a rickshaw ride or pick your pockets. At first I tried to politely decline them all, but in the end discovered that the only option was to ignore them as you just wouldn’t get anywhere otherwise.

That night as part of the Dashain festival there was singing, dancing and huge statues of the Hindu gods were paraded through the crowds and down to the river before being thrown in. The statues were moulded from the mud of the Ganges and brightly painted and decorated and some of the most popular Gods were cheered as they were carried through the crowds.

The following morning Marcus and me went on a boat trip down the river, there was a huge line of boats full of tourists heading down the river passing all the Ghats as the sun rose in the sky. Later we went to the cremation Ghat, we were shown around by what seemed like a really nice knowledgeable guy who showed us how the Ghat was split by caste into low, middle and high. He explained how he was a student and his spare time was spent helping at the refuge attached to the Ghat looking after the old, homeless, sick and poor and asked for a donation for the firewood that would be used for their cremation when they died. He introduced us to “mama” who he said had worked closely with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, who blessed us as we handed over our donations. We decided to go back later as it was still early and the staff were still preparing the fires for the cremations later in the day.

When we got back to the hostel, we discussed the cremation Ghats with several people and one guy said to watch out for the firewood scam. I just couldn’t believe that anybody could use the death of the sick and needy in order to line their own pockets. When we went back later we saw the same guy again as well as others who were spinning the same story that we had heard earlier in the day, almost word for word. Indians from all over the country are cremated in Varanasi and then the ashes and bones are put into the river, it is said to be a direct route to salvation. Some bodies are not cremated in the Ghats’ including children, pregnant women, holy men and people with leprosy.

The next morning I said goodbye to Marcus, his plan was to head north and I had decided to head south to Goa for some relaxation on the beaches. First I went to Mumbai where I would change onto the train to Goa. On the train I met some friendly Indian guys and we discussed everything from Cricket, Australia, Empire, Gandhi, Nero and Pakistan. I also met Raul from Spain who had been travelling around India and Nepal for 7 years having retired from his business at 29. It turned out that he was also going to be on the same train and carriage as me on the second train, so when we got to Mumbai we decided to stick together and he showed me some of the city. We saw the Gothic train station decorated with gargoyles, walked through the prosperous looking street and passed many large cars with chauffeurs waiting for rich businessmen. This was all in stark contrast to the slums that we had passed on the train. Everywhere you looked there were grand colonial buildings as we continued on past the Taj Mahal hotel and on to the Gateway to India.

Still having several hours before the next train we decided to watch an Indian movie at the cinema. It wasn’t typical Bollywood as there was only one scene that evolved singing and dancing. It had more of a feel of a 1970s/80s American cop movie, 2 detectives were investigating corruption in the local police force and there were lots of chases and the police chief shouting at the detectives. Although it wasn’t in English, it was fairly easy to follow. We arrived back at the station just in time for the train to Goa.

The next morning we arrived in Thivim and I said goodbye to Raul who was heading further South and took 2 local buses to Arambol. Arambol was beautiful with white sandy beaches, palm trees, blue seas and little hassle. I enjoyed the rest after 4 months of trains and buses. I met Alexei from Ukraine who managed to sniff out a party, it was before the trance party season had really started so there wasn’t that much going on. After my week of relaxation I headed back to Mumbai where I met up with Marcus again for a few beers before heading off to Australia.

Nepal 24th September – 17th October

After a tiring week in Tibet we all just wanted to relax when we got to Kathmandu. After leaving Flav at the border to make his long way back to Lhasa and then Chengdu, the rest of us got a 4wd along the bumpy road to Kathmandu and in some points the road had been washed away by the monsoon. After 5 hours in the 4wd we booked into the first hotel we came across hoping to get a warm shower and relaxation, but Kathmandu is a difficult place in which to relax. While walking around Thamel you are constantly being asked if you want a rickshaw ride, taxi, souvenirs, guides, drugs or “clean” girls. The streets are narrow and you are constantly jumping out of the way of rickshaws, motorbikes and cars, all giving a loud blast of their horns to get the crowds out of the way.

The first thing that I planned to do was some trekking, having seen Everest from Tibet, I really wanted to see it from Nepal as well. However upon looking into it, the cost including permits, flights, and guides and needing at least 7 – 10 days, the price was just too expensive. Instead I decided to see the 2 main sites in Kathmandu and to do some smaller treks at another time.

The first of the main attractions was Durbar Square, which is full of temples, stupas and markets all around the edge and the royal palace. In the 60s the Beatles and other musicians had smoked copious amounts of hashish in some of the temples as well as in the bars and restaurants on the nearby “Freak Street”. It was also in the royal palace that one of the princes went on a crazed rampage killing most of the royal family before attempting to kill himself. He was actually named as the king until he also died a few days later from his injuries. One of the temples in the square contains a living goddess, a young Buddhist girl is chosen as the living goddess and remains living in the temple until she menstruates and then she rejoins her family and a new goddess is chosen. The current goddess is just 4 years old and looked terrified as she looked out of the window of the temple at the on looking crowd.

The second main attraction is the monkey temple, which is so called because of it’s cheeky residents. The monkeys share their home with wild dogs, but they don’t appear to live that harmoniously. While I was there are saw a dog chasing one of the monkeys with a hungry look in its eye, the monkey was too quick and agile and easily managed to escape. The monkeys also managed to team up against me, I was holding my drink as a monkey advanced towards me with his eye on the bottle. As I backed away, I hid the bottle behind my back, as soon as I did this I felt the bottle being tugged from my hand and turned around quickly to see that another monkey had crept up behind me to snatch my bottle away. I got some revenge though, because as he bit into the bottle he was coated in fizzy drink as it sprayed out all over him.

After Kathmandu I took the 4 hour bus ride to Bandipur with Marcus, a journey which was made worse by the hangover I had due to drinking too much vodka the night before. We were finally dropped off on the main road and had to make our way to the top of the hill. I’d heard from somewhere that it was only 2km to the top of the hill, so we set off walking, after we had covered about 2km it had got dark and we then saw a sign that said that it was still another 7 km to go. So instead we had to pay 300 rupees (about 3 pounds) to get to the top on the roof of a jeep where we had to cling on for dear life so as not to get thrown off on the corners. Fortunately the driver was better than the one in Tibet, if he had been driving a guarantee that we would not have survived this particular adventure

When we arrived the whole town was in darkness due to a power cut and we walked along the street trying to find a guest house. After trying several which were full, we found a small guest house above a shop for just 100 rupees each (1 pound). The room was very basic, but there was a roof terrace and the number of stars visible in the sky was incredible. The town was a huge contrast to Kathmandu, it was so calm and quiet, the main street was pedestrianized, so there were none of the sounds of car and bike horns, the whole town seemed to close at 10pm each night.

When we got up the next day we went up to the roof terrace to discover spectacular views of hills, valleys and the distant snowy peaks of the Himalayas. The plan had been to only spend 1 night, but in the end Marcus was there for 3nights and I was there for 5 nights just reading, relaxing, trying to catch up with my blog and enjoying the stunning scenery during the day and starlit sky at night.

Having fallen in love with the place, I finally managed to drag myself away and caught up with Marcus in Pokhara and initially the place came as a shock. Although it was not a noisy as Kathmandu, the Lakeside area in which we were staying was very touristy, again there were lots of people offering tours, souvenirs and drugs on the street and it didn’t really feel like the real Nepal.

To try and find the real Nepal I decided to walk to the old town as well as visiting the regional museum and the Ghurkha museum along the way. Old Pokhara is a bustling little town with cars, trucks, buses and motorbikes beeping their horns, wild dogs and cows walking the street, lots of shops and stalls selling fruit, veg, meat, electricals and lots of ornate jewellery.

The regional museum was disappointing, there were a few pieces of useful information about the traditional lives of the Pokhara area, but on the whole it was just a load of random stuff in glass cases with very little information. The Ghurkha museum was a lot better when I eventually managed to find it. It described battles that the British had with the Nepalese, where they had been so impressed that as part of the peace treaty they agreed to leave Nepal independent and in return they would be allowed to enlist Nepalese into the British army. There were also many stories of heroism from individual Ghurkhas dating from the Indian rebellion, through the 2 world wars and right up to the present conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Having not yet done any trekking, I decided that the next 2 days I would do a couple of mini treks. I started with a trek up to the viewing point at Sarankot. It took quite a while to find the path from the road and the steep route was extremely exhausting. Eventually I made it to the top, but sadly the Anna Purna Mountains were not visible as it was too cloudy, I did however have the best Dahl Baht in Nepal at a little restaurant I found.

The second was the day long trek around Phewa Lake. I set off at 7:30 am and stopped in a little restaurant for breakfast at 8 as it started to rain. Half an hour late I set again in the dry and made my way around the lake.

By 1pm I was already ¾s of the way around the lake and with Pokhara seemingly so close was beginning to wonder why the Lonely Planet had suggested a whole day to do the walk. But then the terrain and quality of the path changed, for most of the route the path had been good and I’d managed to skirt around the edge of the lake without having to climb up the hills, but then the paths became steeper and narrower, at some points I was clinging onto the undergrowth and rocks so as to not fall down the sheer drop into the lake or onto the rocks below. Each time I asked the locals for directions they would tell me that it was impossible to get back to Pokhara and would offer to row me back for a price, but I was determined to get around and the Lonely Planet had said that it was possible.

At one point I was approached by a guy who offered to carry my bag. He spoke no English but I tried to explain to him that I wanted to get to the World Peace Stupa and then back to Pokhara and he appeared to understand. He started to take me up a hill and all the time I was becoming more and more suspicious. I’d heard quite a few stories of people being robbed and was sure that he was taking me in the wrong direction. I started to ask people if we were going the right way, but before they could answer he would say something to them in Nepalese and then they would say unconvincingly that we were going the right way. Eventually I asked a boy who pointed at a different hill, so I got my bag from the man and gave him a bit of money and set off back in the opposite direction. He then started following me and asking for more money, to which I swung around shouting and shaking my fist, to which fortunately he backed away. I speedily made my way down the hill and back in the right direction before he could follow.

The path was really bad now, it was leading me up one hill and down before going back up another hill again. At one point when the path was close to the lake the ground was extremely wet and I tried to find some firm ground to stand on, but both feet sank in and lake and water flooded both of my boots, then I was walking through the forest with monkeys swinging above my head screaming angrily, finally at 3.30 I managed to find a restaurant just below the Stupa to have some lunch and again just managed to avoid the rain.

I set off again once the rain had stopped and headed up the steps to the Stupa when the rain started again, by the time I got to the top I was soaked and exhausted.

The clouds had descended so that I no view and only had 1 hour of daylight to make the 2 hour walk back. I spoke to one of the Japanese Buddhist Monks who advised me not to walk the last bit which was through the jungle with a high probability of coming across leeches. So instead I set off back down the precariously slippy steps in order to get a boat back across the lake and back to Pokhara.

The next day was my lazy day in Pokhara spent with a couple of girls from Germany and one from Belgium. We started with a pedal boat on the lake where we peddled out to the middle and let it drift as we relaxed in the sun, this was followed by a banana milkshake and chocolate brownie and finally a blind message. Blind people who are normally shunned in Nepalese society are trained as masseuses and due to their heightened sense of touch give an awesome massage.

The following day I set of to Tansen with Marcus. As with Bandipur we were dropped off on the main road and had to get a jeep up the hill. We’d already heard that the cost was 10 rupees (10p) but the drivers were insisting on 200 rupees each. Eventually with the help of a policeman they agreed to take us for 10 and explained that the original price was for if we wanted the whole jeep to ourselves.

Tansen was the most authentically Nepalese place that I stayed, there were very few tourists, only a few hotels, a few restaurants in which only one served Western food. The people were extremely friendly and never had a hidden agenda of trying to sell you something like they did in Kathmandu and Pokhara. In the streets there were many stray dogs, cows and pigs roaming around. Samosas and onion bhajis could be purchased for 5 rupees each and authentic daal bhat, chicken and mutton curries could be bought in restaurants for 150 rupees or less.

Tansen had formally been the capital of the Magar Kingdom which had come close in the 16^th century to conquering Kathmandu and taking over the whole of Nepal. We visited several of the Hindu temples, during one visit animal sacrifices were taking place, the animals were blessed before being beheaded in the courtyard and then taken home by the owners to be cooked as part of the feast for Dashain. In another temple we met a man or should I say guru, who taught us how to meditate and discussed the meaning of life and what part religion played in our lives. He had given up his work and now spent his time meditating and thinking about his role in the world.

Marcus and I also tried to walk to Palpa Runighat, a palace that was built in 1892 by Governor Khadka Sanser in memory of his wife Tej Kumari and is thought of as the Taj Mahal of Nepal. We managed to get close enough to see it across the river, but could not find a good path to actually get to it and had to set off back before it got dark.

The final stop in Nepal was Lumbini, the birthplace of Buddha. The site is surrounded by Buddhist monasteries from all around the world and we had heard that you could stay in dormitories at the Japanese and Korean monasteries. We got off the bus and got a rickshaw to take us to the Korean monastery where we booked in for several nights for 300 rupees a night which included all meals in the canteen. The days started early in the monastery, there was a service in the temple at 5am followed by breakfast at 6. The service was amazing with the chanting, banging of drums and sticks by the monks as they knelt and bowed as the sun rose for the start of the new day.

In the centre of the grounds was the birth place of Buddha, his mother had stopped at the beautiful spot to bath in the pool before she got out and only managed to get several metres before giving birth to Buddha. There is a stone to mark the exact spot and a tree near the pool under which people meditate. It was a peaceful and relaxing place which perhaps made India more of a shock.