fragrant vagrants

At the market

2006-08-31T19:09:00.000-01:00

At the market
Originally uploaded by Solene and Kevin.

Sitting in the office back in Ireland late with flickr on in the background. This market in Bac Ha was amazing. How quick it all becomes nostalgia.

Couchsurfing

2006-06-30T16:03:00.000-01:00

Couchsurfing is dead.
Can you believe it?
In case you don't know about it, it is the wonderfull network of people that made our trip the amazing one it has been.
It was a website.
It crashed.
It is dead.
Well, of course it isn't.
Some people are already talking about building it up again. And I am sure they will be able to. It is only a matter of time.
Good ideas never die, and this idea had 90.000 members.
So basically this is a tribute to Couchsurfing as it was. Cs is dead, long live CS.
And a welcome to Couchsurfing as it will be.
It is also to remind any of the friends we met throught the network that they can reach us through this blog if they don't have our email addresses...
There you go.
Oh, and we live in Cork now by the way.
It is another story.

Life goes on, Smile!!!

Laos, Luang Namtha trek dinner

2006-04-19T12:28:00.000-01:00

Laos, Luang Namtha trek dinner
Originally uploaded by Solene and Kevin.

Back Home

2006-04-13T12:59:00.001-01:00

Well. It is really strange. Catapulted back in time and space. Flying in thirteen hours what took us the best part of thirteen months. It feels almost to be robbed of the experience.

All the same, it was great to get back to Bath and hook up with a lot of old friends. Well, not all of them unfortunately, but another time soon hopefully. It was even better to get back to the traffic jam that is Dublin to catch up with family again. Got in yesterday, flying Aerlingus. Ryan Air seem to have a tendency to carry pranksters and land in Military airports. It is probably because they keep getting all these RAF fighter escorts. It must be going to their heads.

Anyway, the slingshot back from Singapore was grand. A really fine flight. First time in a 747, I couldnt believe we got a window seat. Flying over Dehli at night was very memorable, as was the flight over the Himalayas. It was perfectly clear most of the way.

We had a real blast in Singapore. K Hong is a brilliant host of Impeccable taste, as is his French girlfriend Laure. We spent our last evening at the opening of the new Puma store there. It was a gentle reintroduction to the real world, or the real world as we usd to know it....

We sailed through Malaysia in a matter of days, staying only briefly in Georgetown, which is a really great town, especially for food and 'heritage' architecture. KL was interesting as well. But again we only really had a peek as we were there so short a time. The butterfly park in KL was incredible though. Apparently the national Orchid farm and Aviary are impressive too. All in all we'd spent enough time to know we definetly have to come back to Malaysia and have a proper look around. Ah well. Another life.

Prior to our 4 days in Malayasia we spent a great week on Ko Lipe, an island in the Tarutao national park in Thailand, R&R after our gruelling year long holiday, lapping up the sun with hours of snorkelling, kayaking and out on the boat, lolling around eating the finest fish sipping Sang Som and generally living in suspended animation amongst the other great characters there. Even our German maestro in the neighbouring Bungalow was cool, despite or maybe because of playing the Didgereedoo (spelling?) at 4.0 am in the morning. I am sure it is a nice way of ushering in the dawn around Alice Springs, but I am not sure he expected to usher in the adjacent residents from Bunglaows B3 and A2 ('its very good but its 4am' comment). The (second) best thing about the place we stayed was the name. Porn Resort. Porn is the name of the family/guy who owns it, nothing untoward.

There is only one year left of Ko Lipe as a fairly relaxed- or certainly the most relaxed island destination in Thailand- as Lonley Planet has listed it in its top ten things to do in Thailand, and there are various commensurate developments on the way as well. OH well. At least we weren't Like Tom, a German artist/artisan who had lived there for nearly 6 months 16 years ago. He inhabited the only bungalow on Pattaya beach (now festooned with thumping bars and the usual seeds of the Thailand Island strip. Watch out Phuket.) Himself, his girlfriend, a soldier, the soldier's wife and their kid were the only inhabitants that side of the island. The soldier used to shoot coconuts out of the tree, and Tom and hs girlfriend survived on squid and paying in fish that they caught and bartered for veg and other necesities. For him the island is long gone, and he is dismayed, not so much at the arrival of Tourism on the island, but more that others arriving there are telling him that it is the quietest and best place in Thailand. Or left in Thailand. The fact that it is also the last and nearest inhabited island to the Malaysian border would give everyone good reason to think that it is probably the last outpost of the wild Thailand so celebrated in books like the 'Beach' and a million million holiday posters. Very depressing, but entirely, us the travellers' fault.

Prior to that was a very brief sojourn in Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai we met Georges, old family friend of the Vermonts, who showed us a great time. He also promised to email me loads of tips and info on learning French which I am looking forward to. I could use it, as I am on my way over there imminently.

Of course, finally it happened to me. It had happend to Sol already, having met Laure in Seoul (now in Bangkok, but we missed her unfortunately....) and realising that she had mutual friends back in France. We were in a Wat in Chiang Mai. No it was a stupa, a very large one with elephants on it. (My interest in cultural history and artefacts was waning at this stage, and the Thai's weren't at all that good at presenting it - at least what we saw of it. Its not the type of tourism they're used to I suppose). Well anyway. There was Frantisek. And Klara, over on holiday from Prague. Madness, hadnt seen them in 5 years. It was great. Unfortunately they were jumping on a flight back home to Europe that evening, but it was great to catch up with them. Apparently they always meet someone they know while away, always completely randomly, and Klara was wondering whether that would be the first time that they didnt...and then I rocked up. Anyway, it was good to see them and I am sure we'll see them in the not too distant future in Czech!

Before all of this was Laos. Laos is great. Look out Laos. I suppose all this touristic lark is coming their way too. Already Vam Viang is a backpackers slum (although the surrounding landscape is still very special and offers respite from the alleged Simpson/Friends TV watching marathons). We were curious enough about the place to avoid it completely. Especially as the people we had met who had visited there reckon that this is the best reason to visit Laos. To lie in a hammock and watch TV. My Arse. Laos is certainly the least spoilt of the countries we visited in SE Asia (Myanmawr obviously is less developped, but we didnt get there.) And probably the most special. The French used to say of the peoples of SE Asia, that the Vietnamese would plant the rice, the Cambodians would watch it, and the Laotians would listen to it grow....

It is still a communist state, the Monarchy 'dying' out in the 70's. (Certainly the most modest monarchy we encountered in SE Asia, judging by the palace and grounds). And in SE Asia Communism means that you have a CHinese contractor to build all your roads for you.

The mighty Mekong RIver runs down the backbone of the country having spilt out of Myanmawr (Burma to you colonial types) and China and on its way down to Cambodia and Vietnam. There are so many stories and amazing things about the Mekong, I think I have to do it in a seperate post. But for the moment suffice it to say that the Chinese are making shit of this river too, damming further up toward the source and blasting rapids to make them navigable for barges. Heavy industry in Myanmawr is not helping either. This has untold consequences for everyone downstream, especially Cambodia and Laos whose cultural and agricultural life revolves around the river and its tributaries. But another post, I promise.

I enjoyed Vientiane. There is nothing to do there. There is not even that much traffic. But there are some fantastic restaurants and bakeries. What a haven as well, where we found Conchi and Troi, living out in SE Asia instead of the middle east for a change. Their stories of Yemen and Iran made me ache to get down there. Before American Foreign Policy make shit of them. (Between the American Foreign Policy and that of the Chinese, which is worse I wonder?)

In my mind regardless of what type of regime you run in your country, if you had 13 odd bases of your sworn enemy (the USA) sat on your border area, I think I'd be trying any means to insure that they wouldn't invade, or make sure they pay the penalty for invading. I dont understand. I dont understand American foreign policy. Even if it is driven by big corporations and a thirst for Oil, surely they can do a better job of it than this. I mean they must be able to. I mean who the hell is surprised when you skewer a country on the axis of evil pour 1000's of troops into surrounding countries mounted on its borders and your 'foe' turn around and develop nuclear 'power'? Surpised? Not me.

I was really moved by one of Conchi and Troy's stories of visiting Iran. Meeting a mother in a bakery (or shop or market, I cant remember exactly, but randomly in the street) who subsequently insisted on them coming over for dinner the following evening. They went of course, and had a really great time with the family. I dont remember them talking about the Dad being there, but she had some children. After dinner and over tea, the lady of the house asked them in all seriousness and near desperation, would the Americans invade Iran? Within living memory of the damage and ruin of the Iran Iraq conflict (where Iran was de facto fighting the Americans and their western buddies anyway) and the live picutes of Iraq being beamed into their living rooms every night, I cant even begin to imagine the fear ordinary Irianians are feeling in the face of the threat of American military action.

Perhaps there are some Iranians that would have welcomed the idea of liberaton by the Americans or the west. Perhaps there are people who remember the 'halycon' days of the Shah and the time before the Ayatollahs. But even then, I doubt if they savour the idea of 'Iraq style liberation' at what proved to be the inadequate hands of the Americans. In our family home in Ireland, 'to liberate' something was always a euphemism for 'to steal' something. I doubt if there are very many American families in the armed forces who relish the idea of liberating another country anyway. Theirs and the families in the liberated countries are the ones that bear the burden and the true cost anyway.

It would have been great to return to Europe through Myanmawr, Bangladesh, Nepal, India, Pakistan and Iran. But time nor money was on our side, and we had to skirt out of Asia and coast down to Singapore for our flight home. Back to Europe, and Ireland, isolated and insulated from the real world out there. Having travelled so far it feels that Europe is really far away for most people in the world. For the powerful Asian economies it is merely a pimple on the arse of Asia. For the middle east and the Caucasus and the poor SE Asia Europe is an ineffectual aristocratic has been of once-were-warrior nations, their teeth cut on colonialism, their pensions safe on the plunder from it.

And yet still, for many people outside of it, Europe is their best hope. To get into it, or for them to reach out.

I wonder if Europe really knows?

Fin du voyage

2006-04-04T02:52:00.000-01:00

Laos, Luang Namtha trek home with monkey.

Et voila, c'est presque fini...
Nous prenons l'avion demain pour Londres, retour en Europe, a son semi printemps froid et pluvieux...?
Nous sommes a Singapour, ca fait une trotte depuis le Laos d'ou j'ai tape nos dernieres nouvelles.
Depuis, nous avons passe un peu de temps avec Georges, un vieil ami de mes parents a Chiang Mai en Thailande, deux jours a Bangkok ou nous avons de nouveau rate laure, une semaine a Ko Lipe, une ile de reve sur le point d'etre devastee par le tourisme et trois jours en Malaisie.
Ca sera mon plus grand regret, la Malaisie. La region est fascinante, avec sa mixture de malais, de populations aborigenes, de chinois et d'indiens.
Ca fait un peu bizarre de penser a chercher du boulot, trier nos photos (15000), trouver un appart, retourner dans la vraie vie, quoi.
Il y a ce que nous devrions desapprendre, comme boire a la bouteille avec nos levres autour pour eviter les cahos du bus, parler aux animaux, courber la tete pour remercier...
Et puis il va falloir acheter des fringues et retourner vers les plaisirs et horreurs du monde de la consommation...
A bientot tout le monde!

Vietnam, road rules and the shipping news

2006-03-10T11:00:00.000-01:00

Vietnam, Saigon at night.

I was standing on the side of the road for ages trying to photograph a scooter in flight. No mean feat with a digital camera it has to be said, but this is the best I got, and as such I am proud of it!

It is hard to describe how mental the driving in Vietnam is, especially on scooters. The rules of the road such as they are dictate that you only have to wear a helmet on a bike if you are going between towns, not within town. This was explained to me after we witnessed the aftermath of collision between a pick up truck and scooter. We came on the scene in our bus on the road from Nha Trang. The bus slowed and there was nothing to see at first, just a crowd gathered round the scene. But as we got closer we could see the look on most of the faces, and then suddenly through the crowd came a man carrying a corpse of a guy, his head destroyed. There is no other way of describing it. It was just hair and blood. The moment was gone in an instant. The was silence in our bus, but a feeling that it was quite common, almost normal.

The guy beside us who explained about helmets also explained that cars already on the main road are responsible for avoiding what is in front of them. Thus nobody, and I mean nobody from a cyclist to trucker looks or waits to join a stream of traffic, they just drive into it without looking left or right. This ironically makes crossing the road relatively straight forward for a pedestrian who has a bit of nerve. Conversely to execute a lefthand turn (they drive on the right) scooters and even cars will turn onto the main road, driving on the wrong side, waiting for a gap in the traffic inorder to slip accross. In fact it is a good idea to only look where you are going and not behind you to your left or right, because this is where you are most likely to come a cropper, especially as a cyclist!

The guy who explained the rules of the road to me is an Nautical Engineer. He has an interesting job. He refits or 'fixes' brand new ships. A big industry in SE Asia now, particularly Vietnam. His latest was adding another 25 meters length to a brand new Malaysian freighter that had already become too small after the order was completed. The ship was already 180+ meters length (as I remember it) and they were about to lop it in half and add the extra meters smack in the middle,so as they could get a few hundred extra containers in there.

It's OK he said. They know what they are doing. I really amn't that sure anymore!

By the way incase this doesnt work, this was posted by Kevin, but publishd via flickr so it comes up as Sol.

Cambodge et Laos depuis Vientiane

2006-03-10T09:27:00.000-01:00

La douceur du Laos est legendaire. A Angkor, nous avons rencontre l'architecte charge de la restauration du Baphuon, un temple a demi demantele laisse a l'abandon depuis les annees 70. Quand, le lendemain, nous lui avons ecrit pour lui faire part de notre decision de quitter le Cambodge pour le Laos plutot que de passer trois jours de plus parmis les temples il a repondu que nous avions probablement raison.
Le Laos n'est pas un pays spectaculaire, du moins pas apres l'enormite de la Russie et de la Chine ou les paysages extraordinaires de l'Est de la Turquie, mais c'est un endroit ou l'on se sent bien. Ca tient surtout a ses habitants. Pour un oeil occidental, ils sont incroyablement decontractes, et. forcement, ca deteint sur nous. Ou sont les chauffeurs de tuk tuk nous helant bruyament toutes les deux minutes, les vendeuses de souvenirs (you buy, madam, you buy? just have a looka), les enfants surrexcites? A leur place, nous croisons des colegiennes en Sarongs, les chaufferus de tuk tuk font la sieste dans leurs hamacs et les serveurs de restaurants ont toujours le sourire pret a naitre.
Nous sommes arrives par le Sud du pays.
Apres avoir quitte Siem Reap et Angkor, nous sommes redescendus sur Phnom Penh au Sud Est avant de remonter vers le Nord et Kratie.
Nous avons passe une nouvelle journee a Phnom penh, a explorer son marche, surout, un batiment incroyable tout droit sorti d'un film de science fiction apocalyptique: une enorme coupole surmontee de toits et de fenetre innombables, ocre jaune delave marbre de poussiere rouge. Dessous, des stands tres respectables de bijouterie, de vetements et d'electromenage, et autour un dedale de piles de tissus, produits de beaute, quincaillerie...
Nous avions une bonne raison de nous arreter a Kratie: au Vietnam, nous avions rencontre Judith et Mark, un couple neerlandais. Il est photographe (cf sidebar), elle est optometriste(!). Elle allait bientot passer quelques semaines, benevolement, dans l'hopital de Kratie. D'apres eux, la ville etait tres jolie. La deuxieme raison: les dauphins. Dans le Mekong pres de Kratie vie une race de dauphins d'eau douce en voie d'extinction (il en reste quelques uns en Birmanie et au Laos) que l'on peut observer a distance respectable.
C'est ce que nous avons fait. Le soir de notre arrivee nous nous sommes faits conduire par le gerant de notre hotel (a 3 sur une moto, a la cambodgienne) jusqu'au point d'observation gere par le police. La somme payee par les touristes pour entrer sur le site et louer un bateau est censee servir a l'etude et la preservation des animaux. Ils en ont bien besoin: un des hommes presents nous a dit qu'aucun des petits recents n'avait survecu. Et puis, beaucoup d'animaux meurent pris dans des filets et empoisonnes (?).
Il reste une bonne vingtaine de dauphins sur cette portion du Mekong, et ils ont appris a se tenir loin des bateaux. La loi exige que tous les moteurs soient coupes si ils s'approchent a moins de 20 metre.
C'etait le soir, nous etions tous seuls avec notre jeune batelier patient. Le soleil se couchait, le ciel rose et dore se refletait sur l'eau et pendant une heure nous avons vu les dauphins affleurer a la surface, sortir la tete, cracher de l'eau par groupes de deux ou trois.
Le lendemain, nous sommes alles visiter l'hopital.
Les hollandais financent le service ophtalmologie, et les japonais le service des protheses et de la reeducation. Enfait, il n'y a presque plus d'accidents dus a des mines dans la region. Le danger principal: motos et scooters.
L'hopital et petit et aussi charmant qu'un hopital peut l'etre: un ensemble de longs batiments bas aux toits a deux pans entoures de galeries. Tous etaient peints en blanc sauf un, qui abritait le service de tuberculose.
Depuis qu'elle est arrivee, Judith a passe plusieurs journees a tourner dans les villages avec ses collegues cambodgiens. Rares sont les paysans qui se rendent d'eux meme a l'hopital: a chaque fois, c'est toute la famille qui se deplace, ce qui signifie abandonner champs et animaux. Pour ceux qui vivent de l'autre cote de la riviere, traverser coute (je crois) 3000 riels par personne. Une famille vit avec 8000 (2 dollars) par jour. Grace aux aides internationales, l'hopital rembourse a present les patients pour leurs frais de transport, mais ca reste beaucoup d'argent a empreinter. Et puis, il y a aussi l'attitude generale de fatalisme, ou plutot d'acceptation, des cambodgiens.
Toujours est il que c'est souvent aux medecins de se deplacer, et c'est vrai aussi au Laos.
A Kratie, ils sont formes pour reconnaitre ce qu'ils peuvent soigner. Simples problemes de vue, cataracte, myopie... pour le reste, ils s'efforcent de rassurer les patients. Ceux pour qui c'est necessaire prennent alors rendez vous a l'hopital et, en general, se presentent quelques jours plus tard. Avec toute leur famille. Ils n'auront qu'un dollar a payer par operation, le reste etant finance par l'association Mekong Eye Doctors.
Et voila, c'etait notre derniere etape au cambodge. Je me suis efforcee de dessiner quelques unes des tres belles maisons locales, en bois ou paille tressee pour les plus pauvres, mais la dizaine d'enfants survoltes autour de moi n'a pas rendu la tache facile. Resultat: un tout petit dessin tout de travers artistiquement decore de dizaines de traces de petits doigts: j'ai les empreintes digitales des coupables.
Le lendemain, nous avons pris la longue route vers le frontiere et les habituelles arnaques a touristes: douaniers reclamant quelques dollars et organisateurs de transport haissables au premier regard.
Nous ne le savions pas mais nous etions en route vers un petit bout de paradis. Siphandon. Des dizaines d'iles aux courbes douces sur le Mekong, couvertes de rizieres et de bananiers, palmiers et autres arbres fruitiers, et peuplees de buffles, egrettes, cochons, chats, poules et... laotiens tranquilles. Et la, nous avons eu encore plus de chance: les touristes sont loges dans de bungalows de bambous tresses, et les premiers etaient tous pris. Nous avons du marcher dans le noir, demandant toutes les deux minutes et recevant toujours la meme reponse. Sorry, full. Finalement, nous avons trouve un lit, du cote "sunrise" de l'ile. Ce que nous ne savions pas, c'est que la dame qui tenait le bungalow comme le petit restaurant a cote etait une des meilleures cuisiniere du coin (ca nous a ete affirme par la suite par d'autres voyageurs). Toujours est il que nous avons passe deux jours de reve a ne faire pratiquement rien, manger de delicieux repas et nous laver dans la riviere. Avec la lessive, la vaisselle, les buffles, les enfants comme les adultes.
Bon, le deuxieme jour je me suis offert une migraine, due probablement a une heure passee la veille a pedaler sur la route la plus pourrie du monde pour essayer de trouver une cascade. Nous nous etions perdus: une vieille dame au sourire charmant nous avait envoyes dans la direction opposee de celle que nous aurions du prendre.
Le lendemain, nous sommes partis pour Champassac, hisoire d'y visiter un nouveau temple khmer. En fait de ville il s'agit surtout de maisons tranquillements etirees le long d'une route. Quelques unes datent de temps des francais et alternent plus ou moins avec des temples. Un temple, une maison, un temple, la poste, un temple, un restaurant et ainsi de suite. En fait, l'endroit a ete considere comme sacre depuis des siecles, probablement des milliers d'annes. Il l'etait apparemment pour les Khmers, et ce pour une raison toute simple: ils etaients hindous a quelques exceptions pres, et, sur une colline derriere Champassac se dresse un pilier de pierre aisement assimilable au Linga (i.e. penis) de Shiva, le dieu hindou favori des khmers de l'epoque. C'est probablement a cause de ce colonne naturelle visible depuis plusieurs kilometres qu'une ville a ete etablie sous la chaine de collines, et un temple a son pied.
Aujourd'hui, la ville d'origine a disparu, mais on peu encore lire son plan depuis les airs. Le temple est toujours la, en gres et en laterite, austere au premier abord mais de plus en plus poetique a mesure que l'on s'avance dans le site, passant les barays (bassins), deux batiments a l'air serieux encadrant un grand espace central, puis une allee bordee de lingas (certains disent colonnes surmontees de boutons de lotus) menant a un tres bel escalier de pierre borde de frangipaniers. L'escalier est erode par le temps, ses pierres dechaussees, les frangipaniers se tordent, partent presque a l'horizontale, troncs gris et noueux puis se redressent , chaque branche garnie d'un bouquet de fleurs blanches et jaune pale. Tout en haut on trouve un petit sanctuaire aux bas et haut-reliefs delicats, abritant a present des statues de Boudha souriantes. Derriere, une source sacree dont l'eau arosait probablement le linga d'origine et, vers la droite, un amoncellement d'enormes blocs de pierre brises dont certains montrent encore des traces de sculptures. On dirait qu'une partie de la falaise s'est effondree sur des socles de lingas geants.
Le soir, il y avait une fete dans le village. Sur une scene, des artistes en costume traditionnel racontaient des histoires et chantaient entoures de jeunes filles repetant inlassablement la meme choregraphie dans pleins de tenues differentes. Les garcons du public glissaient des billets a celles qu'ils preferaient et elles acceptaient, timides et flattees. Il y avait entre 600 et 1000 personnes dans le public, assis par terre ou jouant a des jeux de foire souvent a base de lancer de flechettes.
Apres Champassac, Tad Lo. Re bungalows, re cascade superbe, mais apres la beaute et la nonchalance de Siphandon, l'endroit perdait de son charme. En ce qui me concerne, ma plus grosse reticence venait de la destruction de la foret locale. L'habitude locale est celle de la terre brulee, ce qui est OK sur une petite echelle. Mais a Tad Lo, on avait l'impression d'une destruction systematique de la foret, de nouvelles parcelles etant eclaircies et brulees sans meme que le bois ne soit recupere. Apres plus d'une heure de marche en plein soleil entre parcelles cramees et plantations de bananiers nous sommes arrives en haut d'une cascade superbe, et trois petits garcons nous ont guide de palier en palier jusqu'en bas.
Nous sommes repartis le jour suivant, pour Thakhek ou nous avons de nouveau passe deux jours a ne rien faire, Kevin ne se sentant pas bien.
Et nous voila a Vientiane, la capitale du pays. Nous logeons chez Conchi et Troy, un couple hispano canadien rencontre sur Couchsurfing. Ils sont tres tres sympas et nous nous sentons presque chez nous. Le soir, nous avons le genre de discussions ideologiques que je n'ai jamais eu quand j'etais etudiante. Impact du tourisme sur l'environnement ou la culture d'un pays, mefaits du materialisme etc... bon, et recettes de cuisine aussi ou encore nos bouquins preferes.
Hier soir, nous avons eu le plaisir de rencontrer Louis Gabaude, un ami d'ami de mes parents qui vit en Thailande depuis plus de 30 ans et etait de passage a Vientiane. Comme Pascal Royere a Angkor, il travaille pour l'ecole francaise d'extreme orient, mais lui sur le boudhisme et plus patriculierement, en ce moment, ses relations avec la politique. Passionnant meme si nous n'avons fait qu'effleurer le sujet. Nous ne savons vraiment pas grand chose du boudhisme. Kevin et moi.
Vientiane est une ville charmante. Pas jolie, mais tranquille et toute petite. Il y a des temples partout, certains tres kitsch et d'autes somptueux. Les rues sont colorees par les moines en robe safran et les jeunes femmes en sarongs. Le soir, le long du Mekong, en face de la Thailande, on donne des cours d'aerobics pour les filles ou on organise des matches de foot pour les garcons dans le lit presque asseche du fleuve. Sur les berges on peu boire un verre sur des chaises en plastique et manger du poulet ou du poulpe grille.

What is left of the Vietnam war

2006-02-20T14:18:00.000-01:00

What is left of the Vietnam war.

An unexploded mortar shell surrounded by stones on the site of the Khesan Fire base in the west of the former DMZ. Khesan offensive drew American forces away from the intended targets of the North Vietnamese Tet Offensive. All that is here now is a Coffee plantation and a museum of war detritus. We didnt go to the museum but had walk around the site. Khesan saw some of the fiercest and most intense fighting of the war. Our guide told us that veterans who come here to look on where hell on earth was for them 30 years ago are shocked to find nothing, no trace of that titanic struggle. No markers beyond the museum. The carnage subsumed by the highland scrub and coffee plants. It almost feels as if someone in the museum left this shell here, so that Veterans can gather round it , something tangible of the danger they lived through. In that, the marker stones placed there are more than just a warning, they are rememberances of the time they lived through as well.

Design and Art from Vietnam

2006-02-20T12:34:00.000-01:00

I re-read my last post and realised that Vietnam got a bit of a thumping, and I didnt have very much good to say about it. But I really feel that we only got glimpses of the real thing. And the whole country is reallyin the middle of an upheaval, burdened with all the associated pain.

We met a lot of people, one of whom was an amazing Cyclo driver, one of the myriad of former South Vietnamese Army who were out of a job and essentially out of the picture for good after the liberation fo Saigon. Net result is that most of these guys and their families, the ones in particular who stayed, are seemingly the ones running street kitchens and cyclo drivers of the city. In two years time they will be reducing the number of cyclo drivers to just 50 registered drivers from the thousands now. Generally speaking the Cyclos represent the poorest of the poor in Vietnam, and the municipal government is wiping out the trades and main income for hundreds maybe thousands of Saigonese in one fell swoop. Not very much in Vietnam (or anywhere) is equitable. He doesn't know what he will do when it comes to it. He is lucky enough in that he picked up decent english in the army and can ply a decent trade among tourists. But not for much longer. He had friends in the States who asked him to leave with him, but hedidnton account of his family. To protect them from the regime accusing them of being a family of collaborators with a traitor son.

Speaking of the regime, we met a Party Member (I assume) in a restaurant in Hue, who was head of the districts' Education Board. We had an interesting enough conversation, but all he was really interested in was what budget we had for travelling. It was an annoying encounter but full of insight. I was telling him that I dont think China is a very good model for Vietnam, but that is the way Vietnam is heading. Primary School is free, but secondary is around $42 per month, and university is about $67 per month. The average wage is about $40 per month. For me from afar and particularly from my Irish perspective, education is the only way up for most people,and beyond that immigration. But it is still well beyond the means of most people.

Mai Loc is a budding photographer from Nha Trang. We bough a couple of his small prints. His stuff is really good. He has overcome many technical difficulties, and more practical difficulties. For example he prints B&W on colour paper (so the quality is grained) because B&W photographic paper is impossible to come by in Vietnam, and ordering it from abroad isn't worth the heartache in a country where customs and excise just love to open boxes that arrive from Europe. There are seemingly quite a few budding artists around nowadays in Vietnam. We met a few sculptors in Hoi An and Chau Doc on the Cambodian border. There was an absolutely fantastic painter whose work we saw in Hanoi - Tran Thanh. He was selling pieces for thousand, but I reckon they were abargain for what ele I have seen selling for thousands in Europe.

I feel perhaps that more than anything else there is a resurgence in self expression, particularly artistic in Vietnam. Although the plastic and painted arts have a long long way to go in terms of subject and invention (the oil paintings and sculptures are generally terrible, though there are some gems), the technique and ability really seems latent in Vietnamese culture, right through from the architecture to the street kitchens. Some of the expression is no doubt borrowed from french modernism and earlier, but the way they have subsequently developed it is quite interesting and they really have a sense of design and skill in crafts that is interactive. They know what a door is and the relationship between inside and out, how a cup should work and seem to think completely from the individual users/buyers/owners point of view. It is designed with people in mind, as opposed diametrically to the Chinese Urban Planning approach to design which is generally imbued with Confucian meaning, but so goddamned big you can only appreciate it from space.

It is quite common that new Chinese blocks will be planned with Feng Shui in mind, but also that their plan would be in the shape of a particular Chinese character, say for Fortune or Happiness. However, unless you flew to work each day by helicopter or plane there is no way in hell you could distinguish this appartment block as meaning anything other than more of the same. From the ground they just pound you down, dwarfing you.

Anyway, Mai Loc had made friends with a Norwegian couple 4 years previously who had returned to Vietnam numerous occassions after. They encouraged his work and this year he was invited to an international exhibition of photography in a town Norway. All expenses trip paid for a month. He is really delighted, but fairly pissed off at the amount of bureaucracy he had to go through to get a visa, even on the foot of an invitation from the Mayor of the city. His visa application weighed nearly half a kilo (450gms to be precise). It is hard to see how he will be able to develop his skills and artistry particularly if he cant study, or perhaps even more practically apprentice with other photographers. All the arts seem young again in Vietnam. Rude and round and unoriginal, like trying to repaint renaissance masterpieces all over again, to somehow garner back some of the glory from the past, but in the end only sullying the original by coat tailing its reputation rather than emulating its craft.

I hope that they put some better stress on education in Vietnam. In my mind they have a latent ability in creativity. At the moment they merely ape what is already there, not unlike the Japanese perhaps, a generation ago. But whereas the Chinese, Malay, Korean and Taiwanese have all to a greater or lesser degree copied (sorry bench-marked) the Japanese, the Vietnamese for me are the ones who seem that maybe they could lead SE asia creatively rather than industrially. Who's to know? A couple of design schools and exchanges could go a long way indeed down here.

Foreigners settled here do tend to bemoan the lack of initiative or creativity of the people though. They are not particularly reknowned for coming up with innovative or original ideas or solutions. However I hope that this is more a legacy of Communist indoctrination rather than inherent. It doenst strike me as such though....

hmmmmm.........

Cambodge depuis Siem Reap

2006-02-17T03:06:00.000-01:00

Cambodia, near the Vietnamese border.

Quel plaisir!
Bon, OK, nous avons aussi adore nos premier jours au Vietnam, donc on ne sait jamais, mais voici un pays ou tout ou presque se fait avec un sourire...
Les relations avec les gens sont directes. Un prix est un prix, un echange de regard est pour de vrai et les sourires sont sinceres.
Phnom Penh n'est pas une tres belle ville, mais les grandes avenues bordees d'arbres en fleur, les rues de terre battue, sa riviere, la nonchalance ambiance la rendent tres agreable.
Nous y retournerons peut etre, si nous avons le temps, pour en explorer les nombreux temples et marches.
Il y a quatre choses que presque tous les touristes vont voir a Phom Penh.
Le palais royal, recent mais tres beau, avec des toites axtraordinaires evoquant des oiseaux et des jardins a la francaise.
Le musee des beaux arts qui abrite surtout des chef d'oeuvres tires d'Angkor a la beaute evidente mais au sens indchiffrable sans guide ou connaissance des religions hindou et boudhiste.
La prison de Tuol Seng et les Killing Fields.
Ces des derniers representent l'autre face du Cambodge, les annees de sang et d'horreur qui n'ont pris fin qu'avec l'intervention des vietnamiens.
Tuol Seng etait une ecole avant détre une prison, tout comme Duch, son directeur, etait prof de maths avant d'etre bourreau. Certains déntre vous ont peut etre lu Le portail, léxcellent livre de Francois Bizot qui a ete le prisonnier de Duch bien avant que celui ci ne dirige Tuol Seng. A lépoque, le jeune Duch etait petri d'idealisme et a fini par relacher Bizot parce que celui ci l'a convaincu de son innocence (chercheur, il etait accuse d'etre un agent de la CIA). Les futurs prisonniers de Duch n'auront pas cette chance. Tous ceux, des milliers, qui passerent par les prison ont ete tues apres etre tortures. Soit dans la prison meme, soit dans les champs d'extermination, les Killing Fields.
Il y a encore des traces de sang sur les carreaux des anciennes salles de classe. Du sang vieux de presque trente an.
Les premieres pieces dans lesquelles on entre ont ete degagees de leurs minuscules cellules de parpaings et abritent des milliers de photos. Certaines sont celles de victimes, hommes, femmes, enfants, vieillards, d'autres sont celles des bourreaux. Jeunes hommes souriants, jeunes femmes serieuses. D'un sens, cette presentation identique sans explication laisse entendre une chose: tous etaient victimes. Quand je suis entree dans la premiere piece, j'ai ete incapable de deviner qui etait qui. Ce n'est qu'apres, apres avoir regarde des centaines de ces portraits que j'ai realise que je pouvais les differencier: les khmers Rouges avaient tous la meme expression sur le visage. Hommes souriants, femmes serieuses. En groupe, ils etaient reconnaissables. Sur les panneaux presentant des photos de prisonniers, on ne trouvait pas deux expressions semblables. Indifference, peur, colere, incomprehension, sourire, grimace, anxiete, audace, aggressivite...
Le lendemain nous sommes alles aux Killing Fields. Le sol etait defonce, creuse de grands trous ressemblant aux trous d'obus a demi combles que l'on trouve on Vietnam. Mais la, ils etaient la trace laissee par les centaines de corps decomposes qu'on leur avait enleves. Des vetements en lambeau et des cranes perces de balles ou defonces a la pelle avaient ete entreposes sur 19 etages entoures de vitres entrouvertes, visible a tous... pour memoire.
Dans la poussiere des sentiers, nous marchions sur des bouts d'os et des dents.
Des enfants nous entouraient, criant "un deux trois photo". Une photo contre un billet. Ils jouaient a deterrer les dents.

Nous sommes a Siem Reap a present, la ville la plus proche d'Angkor.
Le site est un enchantement. Le temps est bien fini ou l'on pouvait se ballader seul entre statues et corniches abritees de fromagers, mais le site est tellement enorme qu'il semble digerer les flots de touristes qui l'assaillent. Encore que ca devienne un serieux probleme: erosion des pierres et polution du site.
Dans les rues de Siem Reap, les extremes se cotoient: hotels au luxe incroyable et familles dormant dans la rue.
Le Cambodge est un des pays les plus pauvres du monde.

Vietnam, cash up front please.

2006-02-11T13:00:00.001-01:00

I've had it! Today is our last day here in Vietnam, and we are not unhappy about it.

We just had the magic calculator incident whilst paying our hotel bill. Not unique on this leg of the journey, but in this case just unusually blatant, especially as this particular hotel is highly recommended in many guide books. We are in Chau Doc, and the Hotel we are staying in has a calculator that rounds up in whole numbers. For example, if you are changing Dong to Dollars, then it makes some sense to round up or round down. But here it only rounds up. SO if your bill is say 22.05 dollars, it is suddenly 23 dollars. I fixed the calculator for the receptionist. I can't say that she was delighted. I also reduced her rate of exchange from 16000 to 15800 dong to the dollar, a more reasonable level, that every other hotel in the country we've been to uses. When she gave us our change in DOng she gave us the most forlorn, tattered, toilet papered 1000 dong note I have ever seen. We objected on the basis that not even a Buddhist Monk would accept that as an alm. So we got 2 x500 dong notes of similar quality. Service with a smile....

Its not the amount, every time the amount is a pittance, its just that it happens every single time. If the perpetrators were blatant, and say that as you are a foreigner therefore you will pay a different rate than locals (fair enough in many cases I believe) and then display those rates and prices, that is tolerable. But this little insidious greed that manifests itself in the way they try and extract money from you like milking a dry cow is infuriating. Everytime you ask how much, I watch the proverbial eye rolling as they imagine an impossibly large price, or a yacht, I'm not sure which, and then wait for the inevitable magic number. Its like a one armed bandit, pull the lever and see what happens. Except it is always jackpot for somebody else. And walking away doesn't work, even when you know the real price. In CHina, when you walked away, the price would drop pretty damn quick until you were back to talking in real money again. Not imaginary money like here...The fact that they dont drop the price when youy walk away (in general) is proof enough to me that most of these vendors, who are well used to dealing with foriegners, dont need to make the sale. Grrrrrrr. SO it is just pure profiteering.

These are the people we deal with every day and that most tourists have to, bus men on local buses, hotels travel agencies etc etc. And I fast believe that almost everyone of them have absolutley no dignity left in them.

Waiting for a bus yesterday, we had three chaps 'helping' us to flag down a bus. NO matter how much we insisted we didnt need them, there was no escape. They screwed up and had us waiting for two hours. Every bus they stopped for somebody they got a dollar kickback, no avoiding it, that is the deal. Even for Vietnamese passengers. They stopped several buses for us. A couple were full, several were Air conditioned (you pay a big supplement for this luxury and it isnt necessary at this time of year). We knew the fare should be 60,000 max each, in the end we paid 75,000 each, as it was getting late and we had a 7 hour journey on diffiult roads ahead. I gave the Tout 150,000, he gave one hundred to the driver of the minibus, and the 3 touts left on the road just fell into a huge dogfight over the 50,000 (a bit more than 3 US dollars) in his hand. We had been there so long that we had attracted the attention of every tout there was in a 5 km radius. All the rest of the people on the bus were Vietnamese, and they were visibly disgusted. I am sure that what is worse than us being treated like walking wallets everyday is watching a dignified people loose all sense of dignity in the name of pure greed.

The two Cyclo riders who brought us to this place to hail a bus were paid 15,000 each, which is a good price for them. However they did cycle 8km for it, with us and our back packs. Those limpwristed laggards on the side of the road earn it like, well, any travel agent I suppose. (sorry Jim!)

On the other side of the Vietnam story, we climbed Mt Sam today and I played football with a 2 year old with an excellent left foot. It was great, and just one of those glimpses of the real Vietnam under the crud that floats on the surface and greets most foreign 'tourists'. It takes a bit to escape it, but the real Vietnam is still there somewhere, but it is slowly being obliterated for anyone on the outside to see. I will write about all the good people we met here next post, but I just had to vent that one.

And the sad truth is, it is the tourists' own fault.

On to Cambodia! Watch out for those calculators. Phnom Pennh by slow boat, only 8 dollars, and we dont have to flag it down.

Vietnam 2

2006-02-11T12:50:00.000-01:00

Sunday market.

Nous sommes sur le point de Partir. Le Vietnam pour moi ressemble a une tasse de chocolat chaud, du vrai chocolat fait avec du vrai lait et du vrai cacao. Si comme moi vous n'aimez pas la peau du lait vous comprendrez. Elle colle a votre cuillere, elle colle a vos doigts quand vous abandonnez l'idee d'utiliser une cuillere, elle vous donne vaguement envie de vomir quand elle finit dans votre bouche et a chaque fois que vous l'ecartez, elle se reforme. Vous savez que, dessous, il y a ce lait chocolate delicieux, mais la peau vous empeche de l'atteindre. A moins que vous n'ayez le temps d'attendre que le lait n'ai refroidi suffisament pour qu'elle ne se reforme plus.

Voila, l'industrie du tourisme au Vietnam, c'est comme la peau du lait. Elle est collante, omnipresente, et empeche presque totalement d'acceder au Vietnam souriant, chaleureux et genereux que l'on devine dessous.

A moins que l'on ait du temps. Ou de l'argent. Avec de l'argent on peu se payer un tour prive d'une semaine a moto sur des routes de montagnes, ou un guide plyglotte ultracultive a Hanoi. Avec du temps on peu rester quinze jours dans la meme region et l'explorer en sortant des sentiers battus.

Maleureusement, nous avions trois semaines pour aller du Nord au Sud Vietnam, et pas beaucoup d'argent. Si nous avions su, nous nous serions probablement organises differemment.

Nous avons bien pris quelques tours, une demi journee par ci par la, et tous ont valu le coup, mais en dehors de ca... Difficile d'etre positif quand notre hotel a meme un calculatrice truquee (qui arrondi au chiffre superieur, une grosse difference quand on parle en dollars).

Nous sommes arrives au Vietnam plus ou moins directement a Hanoi, que nous avons vraiment aimee. Une ville ou la moto est reine, au point de monopoliser meme les trottoirs. Les rues du vieux quartier y sont pleines de boutiques incroyables goupees par theme. Il y a la rue des chaussures, la rue des decorations de temples, la rue des motos, la rue des lunettes de soleil, la rue des pots en ceramique... Tout ca assaisonne de temples, cuisines de bordes de trottoirs, marchands de jus de fruits...

Nous y avons passe trois jours avant de partir pour Bac Ha, une petite ville de montagne qui est decrite comme "moins touristique que Sapa". En fait, la raison principale d'aller a Bac Ha ou a Sapa c'est que des minorites ethniques vivent dans la region. Beaucoup de personnes, les femmes en particulier, portent encore leur costume traditionnel. Les marches surtout attirent une foule merveilleuse et chamarree... ce qui n'echappe pas aux photographes professionnels qui sommeillent en chaque touriste. Nous y avons loue un guide et un chauffeur pour aller voir le marche voisin de Cancau, et passer la nuit dans une maison Dai. En fait de guide et chauffeur, nous nous sommes retrouves avec 4 personnes nous accompagant. Bon, LE guide, le chauffeur, un autre gars trs sympas au role indetermine et un apprenti guide de Hanoi qui se comportait encore plus en touriste que nous.

Le marche etait extraordinaire, tout comme celui de Bac Ha allait l'etre le lendemain. En fait je ne suis jamais allee nulle part ou tant de femmes (presque toutes) portent encore le costume traditionnel. En general, le faible coup des jeans et T-shirt a relegue jubes et corsages brodees au role de vetement d'apparat pour occasions speciales, si ils n'ont pas disparu totallement.

Autour de la cheminee de la maison Dai, j'ai essaye de demander a Bon et au garcon de Ha noi si ils avaient un reve. Bon n'en avait pas. Il etait guide pare que rien d'autre ne s'etait presente. Pourtant il etait alle au lycee, et avait apris l'anglais (il etait d'une famille de paysans qui vivaient a quelques heures de trajet de Bac Ha).

Le gars de Hanoi voulait aller au Tibet. A cause du mysticisme tibetin. Il en parlait exactement comme n'importe quel jeune homme occidental en parlerait.

Apres Bac Ha, nous sommes redescendus a Hanoi, puis de la a Hue, l'ancienne capitale vietnamienne. Un tour en moto nous a convaincu de la beaute de la campagne environnante, contrastant avec l'aspect etire, etale de la ville en tissus lache au bord de sa riviere et sa cite interdite ruinee.

Et bien sur, nous avons fait un tour de la zone demilitarisee. Nous y avons eu droit a notre premiere vraie arnaque a touristes avec un tour qui n'etait pas ce qui etait promis et nous a laisse explorant les alentours du site de la base americaine de Khe San quand le reste de notre groupe etait a l'interieur: leur billet d'entre avait ete paye, pas le notre. Mais, au moins, nous avons trouve un obus de mortier non explose, en fait un des seuls restes visibles de semaines de luttes et de litres de sang verse. Les paysans du coin on systematiquement ramasse tous les bouts de metal, helicopteres accidentes, tanks exploses, jeep cabossees, pour les vendre pour etre recycles.

Dans le meme bus que nous etaient quatre francais que nous avions deja rencontre a Bac Ha, et que nous allions revoir a Hoi An... Et ce soir, Nado est a cote de moi devant un autre ordinateur. Ils ont tous autour de la soixantaine, plus ou moins, et voyagent tous les ans ensemble depuis 20 ans au moins.Le soir ou nous les avons rencontres, ils nous ont invites a boire un apero dans leur chambre, puis a diner avec eux. Michel, le plus age, a 72 ans et en parait dix de moins.

Apres Hue, Hoi an, une tres tres jolie petite ville qui sert aussi de point d'acces au ruines de temples Cham Hindous vieux de mille ans... et copieusement bombardes par les americains parce que servant d'abris aux Viet Congs.

La fete du Tet, le nouvel an Vietnamien, a eu lieu le lendemain de notre arrivee, et nous avopns eu droit a un spctacle complet avec discours du responsable communiste local, boys band, et chants traditionnels, suivi d'une danse du dragon effrennee tout autour de la ville. Vers une heure du matin, alors que nous pensions que tout etait fini, que le cortege avait debande, nous avons trouve deux des mini dragons se demenant sous les troboscopes aux sons assoudissant de la techno eructee par une discotheque improvisee: une boutique toute ouverte qui avqit loue d'enormes hauts parleurs pour l'occasion.

Le lendemain, nous sommes alles commander des costumes sur mesure dans un magasin encore ouvert. Comee ca, quand ils arriveront (nous les avons postes de Saigon), nous aurons l'air de vrais professionnels.

Nous avons continue notre route en direction de Nha Trang, commetant l'erreur de prendre un bus de nuit qui nous a laisses incapables de faire quoi que ce soit le lendemain. Mais nous avons aime Nha Trang, et plus j'y pense, meilleurs mes souvenirs deviennent.

La ville est au bord de la mer, dotee d'une longue plage etiree sur plusieurs kilometres. La mer y est chaude et puissante. Au Nord, il y a les ruines de temples hindous Cham, les meme Cham qu'a My Son. Restaures, ils sont aujourd'hui temples boudhistes et l'on y prie devant Boudha apres avoir passe les mains sur un Linga de pierre, symbole de Shiva...

Un peu moins au Nord il y a un village de pecheurs dont les bateaux colores bleus et rouges sont merveilleux.

Vietnam, Cai Be floating market.

Une Vietnamienne a Cai Be sur le Mekong... le chapeau conique est plus fort que jamais!

Macau

2006-01-31T06:01:00.000-01:00

Macau ex Hotel Bella Vista.

Une photo de l'ancien hotel Bella Vista, un de mes meilleurs souvenirs d'enfance... Le batiment est devenu la demeure du consul du Portugal, impossible de le visiter. Il y a 18 ans, nous lancions des avions en polistyrene du haut des galeries vers le sapinde Noel geant installe dans le hall d'entree. Les murs des couloirs etaient rouge sombres, ceux de notre chambre aux plafons impossiblement hauts etaient vert anis, delaves. Il y avait des taches au plafond qui me racontaient des histoires et une grande mousiquaire au dessus du lit, comme un baldaquin. Il faisait chaud et beau, tout etait rose ou ocre jaune et les chauffeurs de taxi etaient adorables.

Le Macau d'aujourd'hui n'est pas si different.

Je continuerait plus tard!

Bon, en fait, j'ai deja continue, mais la suite du message a mysterieusement disparu. Peut etre parce que postee du Vietnam, ou la censure a toujours cours et le site de blogger n'est pas accessible?

Hong Kong

2006-01-31T05:17:00.000-01:00

Hong Kong Shek O.

On a tellement aime Hong Kong, et ce d'autant plus qu'on ne s'y attendait pas.

Je n'avais aucun souvenir de Hong Kong, aucun, mais pleins de Macau.L'image classique de Hong Kong est celle de la vue depuis Kowloon, avec ses grattes ciels toujours plus hauts, la lagune devant et la colline du Pic derriere. Une ville dure et ultra moderne, vue de loin. En fait, quand on voyage comme nous avec peu d'argent, on a toutes les chances d'echouer a kowlook, dans une des pensions de Chongqin Mansions ou du Mirador. Et la, en fait de businessmen en cravate, c'est toute la communaute indienne et pakistanaise que l'on rencontre. Curry a tous les etages et magasins de CD et DVD de Bollywood au rez de chaussee. Et bien sur il y a aussi les nigeriens et camerounais en "voyage d'affaires", les bonnes philippines qui sortent toutes le dimanche et passent la journee assises par terre sur des baches en plastiques et des couvertures a jouer au cates et boire du the jusqu'au crepuscule, et il y a les chinois. Derriere les grattes ciels on trouve des marches d'herbes medicinales, des restaurants de raviolis, des lezards seches... Les expats que nous avons rencontres etaient tous heureux. Hong Kong a un exotisme facile, juste assez fort pour le rendre fascinant mais melange d'assez de "civilisation" occidentale pour le rendre confortable. Les occidentaux qui y sont nes savent que l'endroit est special. On y respire l'energie a plein poumons. La biere dans les cafes branches y est plus chere qu'en Angleterre mais qu'importe quand on peut soigner sa gueule de bois a l'aide de bouillon de poule pour trois fois rien.

Hong Kong trams.

J'y ai mange ma premiere viande rouge depuis plus de trois mois. Des brochettes marinees au vinaigre et grilles. J'ai demande bleu et j'ai eu bleu. Peu etre que nous etions bien a Hong Kong parce que tout y etait familier. Nous etions habitues a l'Asie, deja, apres plus de trois mois a nous y trimballer, et nous retrouvions un confort ne de choses connues; le plaisir de pouvoir lire des panneaux dans la rue, les journeaux, des menus de restaurants proposant hamburgers et pizzas a une clientele pour qui ils constituaient un repas normal. Rien n'y avait l'air faux, juste un peu plus extreme d'etre entoure de tant de differences. Dans les rues des panneaux demandent aux citoyens d'aider leur prochain.

En fait, Hong Kong est bien plus grand qu'il n'y parait. Au Nord de Kowloon, les Nouveaux Territoires s'etendent, rugueux, couverts de bananiers et semes d'immeubles et maisons tres tres chinois. Et sur l'ile de Hong Kong elle meme, une demie heure en bus au travers de superbes payages de collines a la vegetation rase vous ammene a Shek O, une plage aux allures de bout du monde, bordee d'un village aux petites maisons colorees faites de bric et de broc et retapees amoureusement par leurs propietaires blancs en sorts et T shirts. Sur une autre ile, deux heures de marche vous menent d'une rangee de restaurants de fruits de mer au repere de la communaute hyppie locale. Il y a de tout, pour tous les gouts.

Et pour finir... On sent que la Chine y plante ses griffes. Elle a promis que les lois anglaises seraient appliquees pendant une trentaine d'annes mais on sent le poids de milliards d'habitants pesant au Nord de la frontiere bien mince. Le drapeau chinois est present un peu partout. Ce n'est qu'une question de temps.

Back in Nam, man. All the way from China, Doll.

2006-01-27T11:33:00.000-01:00

Well, we are seriously back on the tourist trail, half way down Vietnam, in Hue, imperial city on the perfume river. It is still grey and misty, which is really annoying but not unsurprising, and at least it is warm. Which makes a change.

Well since Shanghai, at the begining of January, we trundled down to Hong Kong. I like Hong Kong. It was warm, it was expensive. In fact it seems that this could be the city that London wishes it could be. Spotless, efficient, and full of diamond Geezer fancy a rolex got it on the blag merchants. Mostly Indian. Interestingly enough.

We stayed in a legend of a place called Chongking Mansions which is 17 floors of labyrinths of Indian restaurants and hostels, immigrants houses and back packers looking for a bargain, and still looking for a bargain after 2 weeks lost in the corridors. The Hyatt accrss the road had just closed and everyone was queing up outside to buy its contents. I imagine most of it will transplant itself accross the street into the myriad of living rooms and and guest house bedrooms in the Mirador and Chungking buildings. They are all in Kowloon, the city on the mainland that looks back accross the strait at the peak and the ever changing skyline of Hong Kong. A short Star Ferry ride away. Reason enough for coming to HK. I love ferry commutes to work. I used to take one occassionally in San Francisco and the one accropss the Ij in Amsterdam. It got us in mind of our job prospects in China again. Unfortunately that trail had gone cold as they were asking us to sort out our own work visa, which is probably a polite way of saying no thanks. Ah well. It was bloody cold in Zhengzhou...ah architecture.

I remember when IM Pei's Bank of China and Fosters HSBC were the Skyline, but there has been considerably more since, noticeably the absolutely massive 88 floor 400m plus IFC 2. I cant remember the real name of it. It doesnt really matter, you cant miss it.

Deirdre Walsh is a champion guide, gave us top recommendations on where to go and good walks around. We sauntered around Lamma island and down to Big Wave Bay and Sheko, wandered around Aberdeen the original Hong Kong, now almodt completely devoid of its boat people.

After our last night in HK and a splendid evening with friends' of Deirdre, it was a trip to Shenzen, back in the old PRC, -not that you'd know it was the people s' republic. It was every man for themselves on the 5 stories of craziness that was shopping in this tax free zone. Interestingly enough, we had seen a lot of the wares on sale in Shenzen special economic zone cheaper in the street markets in HK. I havnt worked that one out yet. And then.....

.....we had our first and only experience of a night bus in China. It was actually pretty cool, if not insane. It was a fairly new Volvo bus, ironically, fitted out with stainless steel bunks, three accross with two aisles. I am sure that if we stopped too suddenly the passengers would all be wedged between the bars of the beadhead up to their knees. OR maybe it was a more sophisticated design intent - that each bunk was actually an individual roll cage, and that in an accident that all the windows would fly open (well - it was a Volvo bus) and all the bunks and passengers would be ejected to safely clatter onto the grass verge or through the window of a roadside cafe. Or more likely that the bunks/rollcages would remain tethered to the bus and act as a drag anchor for slowing the bus down. Well. I had a lot of time to think about it.

I like the idea of a sleeper bus though. How many times as a kid coming back from Tramore to Dublin would I have loved to have a bunk to stretch out on and look out the window, although having pillow fights with my three brothers in the back of an Opel Corsa was always part of that particular journey anyway.

I am still fairly amazed that we were never ejected as ballast by my Dad or Mum.

Yeah, anyway, buses, Shanghai to Yangshuo, a grand town surrounded by those amazing limestone peaks that you get in southern China, with a river running through it and about 1200 geezers with 2400 fishing cormorants vying for cover photos of the next National Geographic. It is pretty toursitic, but in fairness it is a lot better that Guilin up the road apparently. Of course all the amazing peaks were completely shrouded in fog for the two days we were there, so we pressed on south for the better weather.

Next port of call was Nanning, all for to strike for the Vietnam border. I liked Nanning, maybe only because we only spent a night there and it was already considerably warmer. It is a large ish provincial Chinese city famous in History as the base for the supply of weapons to the VC during the 'American War'. I only discovered recently that it played a role as a starting point for a Chinese attack on Northern Vietnam in 1978/79 after the Vietnamese routed Pol Pot and the Khmer ROuge in Cambodia. The Chinese were incensed by this and set out to teach the Vietnamese a lesson. Well away from western press and interest the conflict was little heard of until recently, which was good for the CHinese as the got absolutely hammered. Some accounts say that as many as 17,000 Chinese soldiers died in the short conflict. Still some conflict remains between Vietnam and China over the Sprately islands, the usual non descript archipelago of sand and Coral that may or may not yield oil, but certainly at present only yields coconuts. Vietnam seems to have the best territorial claim through proximity alone, but Indonesia and CHina and I think a few others hotly dispute this.....

Other than that they are on friendly terms and cross border trade is booming. There were hundreds of Vietnamese students returning from study in Kunming at the Friendship pass. The border frontier is the site of the nearly ubiquitous brand new 6 lane Chinese highway and tunnel. Everybody was generally getting on with it and customs and immigration. The crossing wasnt a problem at all and by accounts rather quick in comparison to the usual nightmare stories we hear about.

We had the usual border taxi fandango, our first trip in a Honda Xe/Om and delivery to a bus in the middle of nowhere that was to take us to Hanoi. We demanded lunch (we were famished, having been on the road already for 8 hours) and to be brought to the bus station. After a bit of face losing we got our way and got a grand mini bus to Hanoi.

Hanoi, is wonderful. Or, more accurately, it is hell in a handbasket. A very small place filled with many many many fiercly buzzing creatures that take the form of evil scooter drivers and their steeds. My first instinct was to recall that excellent video game of yore- Frogger - where the aim was to get the frog accross the road without getting squished. WHo said that video games serve no practical use? I just wish I still had three lives.

Hanoi is a city full of smiles and sales people, and a lot of them are not the charming indivivuals that I remember Hugh and Eithne (seasoned Vietnames travellers) telling me about. But all taken in good fun. We only got told to F*** off twice, and the other 99.9 percent of the time it was all smiles, and at last we were in a country where we could nearly afford to buy things, so we could at least oblige some of the time.

Went to see Ho Chi Minh, at least from the outside. We have visited but not seen the big three now, Lenin, Mao and HCM. There is a giant poster of them standing shoulder to shoulder together in Nanning, although I am not sure that they would have all have been bosom buddies. HCM set up the french communist party which is something I didnt know.

But back to the traffic. Mainly Hanoi is traffic - for get the culture - 3 million people with 1 million scooters. Footpaths are for parking your scooter and roadside restaurants - when there are neither of these things on the pavement this allows you to drive your scooter on it. IN Hanoi, nobody is a pedestrian. (This is a line that belongs in the pantheon of other great truths like 'In space, no one can hear you scream'.) Trying to walk around town is not particularly pleasant - I can imagine it being even worse in summer. My sleeve was caught in the brake handle of a scooter as he zipped past me on the footpath, with near disastorous results. But anyway. You have to walk on the road most of the time in the Old quarter. It's safer.

The french remains and the little nuggets of French cuisine and culture that remain are quite snug in the Vietnamese landscape. Wonderful coffee, cafes, baguettes and bittet, a variation of the french bifstek and chips. A wonderful find.

We headed off to the north west on the train with the nice lady who showed us our seats and took a dollar from me to get me a beer and the obviously missed the train as we headed off to Lao Cai and Sapa, without my beer!

Bac Ha and Can Cau were an amazing experience. It was the first time I have seen so many people wearing their local finery, enbroidered shirts, skirts and aprons in incredible colours and amazing numbers. The Flower Hmong stole the show - the most populous and hospitable of the local peoples (although the Dai would give them a run for thier money in the hospitality stakes).

We spent two glorious rainy mornings trudging around in the mud thourgh the last markets of the year, watching Blacksmiths making plough blades, hoes and rakes, livestock being sold and eaten, incredible arrays of eyecatching coloured material and costume, accoutrements for the horses, corn whiskey everywhere and about 40 big lensed tourists getting up close and personal, all wishing no doubt, that they were working National Geographic. I ended up taking as many photos of foreigners taking photos of locals as of the colourful locals themselves. It was a bit on the outrageous side.

Still we managed to escape all that when we trekked to a Dai village (I only fell in the mud once, which wasnt bad), where we had an incredible meal and slept boys with boys and girls with girls as is the tradition. Of course I did manage to find the one snorer of the valley again, and this time I had to share my duvet with him.

I must have done something terrible in a former life for all this bad Karma.

Ah well, so long as it isnt mosquitoes, I dont mind. well actually I do. But anyway...:)

Vietnam

2006-01-19T03:45:00.000-01:00

Ouh la la on a du retard.
Ecrire depuis la Chine n'etait pas evident, donc on a du travail a rattrapper a propos de Shanghai et de Honkong. Promis on s'y met bientot...
En attendant, nous avons passe la frontiere et sommes tombes dans un pays completement different, ou les vendeurs sont au bord des larmes quand on refuse d'acheter leur marchandise apres l'avoir regardee et ou les chauffeurs de cyclo pousse vous arrete AUSSI pour vous aider quand vous avez l'air perdu.
Et puis, il y a des coulerus partout. Apres la grisaille quasi mopnochrome chinoise se retrouver dans un univers ocre jaune et vert anis met tout de suite du baume au coeur. Sans compter qu'il fait beau et chaud...

Croisiere sur le Yangzi

2006-01-06T15:27:00.000-01:00

River Yangzi, China, one of the gorges on a very grey day.

Si je vous dit croisiere, vous pensez grand paquebot blanc, piscine, restaurant eclaire de lustres, robes du soir, transats... Si c'est ce a quoi vous revez, ne faites pas de croisiere sur le Yangzi. Par contre, si votre souhait est de passer trois jours sur un bateau au planchers d'acier deforme, a l'eau chaude intermitante, aux passagers fumeurs a tout va et joueurs de carte jusqu'a plus soif, anime d'un karaoke le soir et de the gratuit pour 60 yuans la journee (servi par une jeune fille fascinee par sa tele au point d'en oublier ses clients), aux chaises en plastique abandonnees pour cause de temps froid et brumeux, ...
J'ai adore!
Ce bout de voyage etait le cadeau d'aniversaire de Kevin. Il en a eu l'idee en feuilleutant le Lonely Planet deux jours plus tot a Xian.
la "croisiere" commence a Chongqin, une ville de 38 millions d'habitants qui ressemble fortement a une ville espagnole. Pentes raides, batiments decrepis decores de linge sechant aux fenetres, grands arbres destines a donner de l'ombre en ete, ruelles etroites et poussiere. On y trouve un peu partout des canards dans des paniers, des bouts de chien sur les etalages, des magasins de poissons rouge et des vendeurs de fruits et legume.
De la le bateau part pour deux jours et trois nuit d'une riviere qui sera bientot bloquee par le deuxieme plus grand barrage du monde, le barrage des Trois Gorges.
Ces fameuses trois gorges perdront beaucoupe de leur superbe quand l'eau aura monte jusqu'au niveau prevu. Avec elles partiront des millions de maisons et de champs, et un bon paquet de sites archeologiques. Le projet fait partie des tentatives du gouvernement de developper l'Ouest du pays. Le probleme c'est que le fleuve charrie tellement de limon que le barrage devrait etre completement ensable d'ici quelques dizaines d'annes (oui, je sais, c'est un peu vague: je ne me souviens plus se c'est 20 ou 50 ans). J'ai peu d'imaginer le jour ou il cedera.
Toujours est il que la descente se fait tranquillement. Plusieurs fois par jour le bateau fait escale dans des temples ou autres attractions encadres de boutiques de souvenirs, pour lequels il fau de toutes facons acquiter un droit d'entree. Comme ca fait du bien de se degourdir les jambes, on y va.
Beaucoup de passagers etaient la en groupe, emmenes en vacances par leur entreprise.

Xi'an

2006-01-06T15:05:00.000-01:00

Terracotta horses.

Pour la troisieme fois!
Les soldats sont toujours aussi beaux, toujours aussi differents les uns des autres, et les petits charriots du musee toujours aussi fascinants de detail.
Il faisait froid ce jour la, un froid sec qui tirait la peau. Comme d'habitude le ciel etait gris. L'acces au musee a ete amenage. Maintenant, tout le monde doit passer entre deux rangees de souvenirs sur treteaux. Looka Looka, justa looka. Mini soldats, sacs brodes rouge vif, patates douces grillees ou bouillies vendues trois fois leur prix aux touristes occidentaux (deux fois pour nous, on a marchande...) et peaux de loup ou de chien artistiquement decolorees pour ressembler aux depouilles de creatures de legende, mi loup mi leopards. Qui veut un chapeau de fourrure? Un boa? un trophee a accrocher au mur?
Apres notre visite aux vrais soldats, immobiles, brises par un incendit il y a des siecles et recolles par les soins patients d'archeologues appliques, nous sommes repasses devant leurs repliques miniatures. 50 yuans! 20 yuans! 10 yuans! Je suis contente que nous ne nous soyions pas laisses tenter par le premier: juste apres les marchands, au debut du chemin menant a l'arret de bus, un garcon en a tire une boite de sous sa veste et a souffle: "1 yuan...".
Et comme des milliers de soldats et de chevaux de terre cuite grandeur nature ne suffisent pas, quelques kilometres plus loin le long de la route, apres les etablissemnts thermaux aux 20 piscines, il y a une pyramide. Avec un sphinx devant. Ben oui, pourquoi pas?
Sinon, Xi'an la ville est vivante, pas tres policee. Une dame de Shanghai rencontree plus tard dans le train nous a dit qu'"(elle) n'aime pas, la bas, c'est vieux et c'est pauvre".
Pauvre, je ne sais pas. Les vendeurs thibetains etaient la, en costume traditionnel, tout comme les hommes deseuvres attendant un possible employeur pas loin de la gare, mais les parcs de la ville sont bien entretenus, les rues sont propres, le quartier de la mosquee est refait peu a peu, et les boutiques de luxes ouvrent un peu partout. Peut etre que ca manque de tours de 300 etages.

Birthday Present

2006-01-05T15:21:00.000-01:00

Birthday Present.

One of the best birthday presents I've ever received. Stuck at sea off the coast of China, waiting for 20 hours to dock in Tangu.

A siberian wind in a constant gale, no gusts just an eerie high wind, made it impossible for the ferry to dock. 100s of other ships were moored of the coast, anchored lifeless in the wind. We thought at the time that they were all waiting to come in as well, but it seemd that they were always anchored out there outsdie the 8 mile limit or there abouts, waiting until they are needed, or just rusting away.

There were no gusts, the sea was choppy but not rough.

I was hoing to spend my birthday on red Square, but I spent it on the observation deck of the ferry.

Solene bought me my birthday present.

A hot chocolate.

But the cup. The cup was pure brilliant.

Just dont be stuck on a boat when the time comes to seize the moment.

Pekin

2006-01-05T14:35:00.000-01:00

Bird in a Beijing Hutong.

Ville que j'ai tant aime...
Que j'aime toujours en fait.
Elle aura ete notre premiere etape en Chine, apres une traversee en ferry depuis la Coree qui nous a laisses patienter au large de Tianjin pendant plus de seize heures pour cause de grand vent.
Pekin change... a la Chinoise...
Le mur sur cette photo n'existe probablement plus. Cette rue etait en cours de demolition quand nous y avons mange dans un minuscle restaurant resistant vaillament. pour ceux d'entre vous qui connaissaient les hutons du Sud West de Tiananmen, c'etait la que ca se passait. La rue de la soie restera bien sur, revampee, redessinee pour le touriste mais toujours aussi bouillonante d'activite. Le hutongs du Nord Ouest seront restaures. Les chauffeurs de cyclo-pousse seront rassures. La cite interdite est en plein lifting. Un par un les batiments sont repeints, rouge sang seche et or. C'est beau, ca brille, et ca a l'air tout neuf.
A Pekin, nous avons dormi chez un autre couchsurfeur, Pierre. Le genre de l'expat relax qui se plait tellement la ou il est que l'idee meme de rentrer le fait rire. Par lui nous en avons rencontre d'autres. Les temps changent: meme les femmes occidentales se plaisent a pekin maintenant. La communaute expat est suffisamment etendue pour que des groupes sociaux "normaux" puissent se former.
La ville est de plus en plus propre, l'architecture chinoise a fait d'enormes progres en trois ans au point que, franchement, ils n'aient plus besoin d'etrangers du tout. En fait, certains auraient meme des lecons a nous donner.

Mao 1.

Mao. Les grands soldats chinois paradent toujours tous les soirs au soleil couchant sous son portrait. Nous y avons assiste deux sois, presque malgre nous, dans le froid mordant. Ils representent la puissance et l'immuabilite du pays. Est ce que je dois vraiment passer au cote negatif des choses? A Pekin, et dans toute la chine, nous avons vu des vendeurs de rue et des mendants Thibetains. Ils n'etaient pas la il y a trois ans. alors, soit ils ont soudainement developpe un instinct commercant assez fort pour les pousser tres loin a l'Ouest, soit les choses vont tres mal au Thibet. Ce n'est qu'un exemple. De plus en plus de magazines economiques proposent des articles interrogeant le miracle economique chinois, le presentant comme une bulle. Vu d'ici il est clair que le developpement du pays est essentiellement base sur une main d'oeuvre qui ne coute rien. Les habitants de l'Ouest pauvre sont deplaces plus ou moins a volonte par le gouvernement a coup de changements de systemes de taxations. On a besoin d'ouvriers pour construire les batiments olympique a Pekin? pas de probleme, il suffit de baisser les taxes sur les mingongs dans la ville. ils viendront plus nombreux. Quand on n'aura plus besoin d'eux on remontera les taxes. En Chine changer de ville signifie acheter toute une baterie de permis et de certificats, y compris un certifiant que l'on est un enfant legitime. Tout se paie. Le document, et, probablement, l'officiel qui y appose son tampon. Et pourtant, des dizaines de milliers de personnes sont pretes a payer pour ces bouts de papier, payer des taxes beaucoup plus elevees que celles des locaux dans les villes ou ils viennent travailler, dormir a 10 dans des dortoirs, traviller 14 ehures par jours et parfois payer un "depot" equivalent a un mois de salaire a leur futur employeur.

D'apres un jeune australien chinois rencontre ce matin, 20 a 25% de la population active serait sans emploi. Des villages entiers sont peuples de chomeurs parce que le gouvernement a privatise les grandes farmes cooperatives qui se sont immediatement effondrees, faute de subventions. Oh, et puis il y a ceux dont l'usine ferme. Et puis, une nouvelle usine toute neuve est construite juste a cote. Mais on ne leur donne pas de travail: passe 35 ans ils sont trop vieux.

Allons bon, voila que je m'emballe a nouveau.

En fait, je trouve la Chine difficile, apres l'avoir tellement adoree lors de mon premier voyage. Je n'arrive pas a savoir si c'est parce que j'ai change, parce que nous voyageons en couple et que mes relations avec le gens sont differentes, parce que nous nous deplacons de grosse ville en metropole et non de ville en village, ou parce que, vraiment, les differences entre riches et pauvres se sont accrues au point d'en etre vraiment choquantes.

Some Chinese Construction and an Interview.

2006-01-05T14:27:00.000-01:00

We're in Hong Kong, well actually Macau tonight. Hong Kong is great. An Oasis.

The interview went well.

We took a night train all the way uo to Zhengzhou from Shanghai on the evening of the 26th of december. 14 hours later we were in the provincial capital with wide tree lined avenues, but the same disjointed boxed architecture circled by high rise tenements that distinguishes Chinese cities. It was smoggy. Northern China seems to be perpetually foggy in the winter months. As much to do with (fortunately) no wind as to do with the Coal driven power station. Still it seem most power on the plains is provided by coal and fossil fuels.

We chatted with president Li, GM of 7 stars Design Institute and our prospective employer. We talked about the place of China in the world, how many archtects are wonderingwhat isgoing on in China, with relatively little published outside of China. Shanghai has certaily been iconic in the quest for real design. The more recent buildig in Shangahi are light years ahead of the dsigns produced three years aog. It is an astonisheing change, and really noticeable.

They drove us out to Zhengzhou new town. 400 sq km designated for a newcity, west of the old town. Zhengzhou is a city of 2 to 5 million people depending on which guidebook you read. It is the capital of Hennan provine. Proudly hailed by the natives as the cradle of Chinese civilisation, hoe of the Ming and Song Dynasties, flooded regularly by the Yellow river. It is one of those massive places in China that you never hear about. Hennan is the most populous province as well. Around 200 million people I think.

The new town is massive. Will have 8 universities (Zhengzhou prides itself as a Uni town). It has a 36,000sqm Conference Centre, with two main halls, the upper one with a clear span of 100m. Althoug to be honest 100m spanning roofs are really de riguer in China, and have been around for ages. But, it was still amazing to see.

the conference Centre forms part of the centre of two giant rings, marked by highways of course, the inner ring skirted on its circumference by 30 and 40 storey office and appartment blocks. The conference centre wil be joined by a 400m skyscraper rising out of an artificial lake at the notional centre of the circles. The outer circle, I think, only exists in the minds eye. The scale of the development is just boggling. And there is no end in sight. President Li, told us that the company is practically guaranteed at least one building of a similar scale for this site during 2006.

The showed us some of their projects in the office as well. The most prestigious one at present is a 99 by 99 m pyramid memorial (Ceide Fields anyone?) that is to be built alongwith a concert hall at the foot of a cliff of 3 carved heads (think Mt Rushmore, only presumably bigger) of various important Chinese from the 20th century. It took 70 years to carve them from the rock, and they are finishing this year in time for, well everything. The pyramid has to be finished by September. Built by September. It isnt even on site yet.

We were lucky enough to get a tour of another site with a couple of German clerks of works out here. They are working on a building for the firm that Jean Louis of the famous Robert clan - our hosts in Shanghai- It was an astounding experience. Ive never experienced the way they use labour here. It is an unending resource. I can only list a couple of the astonishing things here. For example - it is cheaper to do entire buildings in in-situ concrete than to use PC concrete. It is cheaper to hire 4 guys with chisels and lump hammers to chisel out a mistakenly cast 8m by 450 by 600 reinforced concrete beam than to buy a jack hammer. (this happens quite often I am sure- and there will still be guys queing up somewhere every morning looking for work on a site. Any site. The project was (I think) 6500 sqm plant and offices, appointment to completion in 13 months. No components other than windows were prefabricated. At one point there were 400 people were working on site. They had only two injuries on site which is a remarkable achievment. The roof arrives as rools of steel sheeting and the have a roll press on site where they press the rolls to the desired profile. No sandwich roof panels even. Madness.

This could mean that conceivably you could design and build a 72 storey tower and have each floor with a completely different plan and it would still be the same construction cost (within a consistent envelope of course). Noobody gets rich here thinking about a better way to do it. They just get rich by getting it done. They may as well be mining people as coal. (On an aside 6000 people died in mining accidents in China last year- most of them coal mines. Well over 500 have died since weve been here.)

And then they do have all of these 72 storey towers in these massive new towns lying completely empty waiting for the day that they maybe needed. Some have already been empty for 3 years. And there will be another few in Zhenzhou by the look of it too.

And the roads. Shangahi and Beijing are fairly clogged with traffic now. But there are 4 lane highways disapparing over the horizon into fields designated as Shanghai new town, empty of traffic. Puts the old 'bypass' system of road construction to shame.

The country, or at least the construction industry, just runs on feudalism. Things get built the same way as they built the damn wall of China. I cant see them getting anywhere, it is a boom country with 25% unemployment. You have to pay for all education, so the Indians will wipe the floor with the Chinese in the next decade when it comes to development of software and that sort of thing. Word on the ground here is that after the World Expo in 2010 in Shanghai, it is all going to come to an end... and Id well believe it. I cant see how it can keep going. I said this during the interview and they were astounded. THey just looked at me and said, it cant stop. They have 8 universities to build in this new town. They will come. Everyone will have a car and a job and live in a city...they thought I was mad.

They wined and dined us and put us on a flight home, full of the local white wine. Letahl stuff of course. It wouldnt be good if it wasnt I imagine. The people, without exception, that we met that day were exceptionally friendly, especially President Li and his staff. They are all exceptionally ambitious as well it is sure.
I hope the bubble doesnt burst for their sake. In the meantime we will be trying to communicate without, or even through interpreters. It is hard going and it leaves a lot of room for misunderstanding.

The office havent ever actually worked with, or rather employed foreigners before, so it is a bit of an up hill struggle with communication and minutae, not to mention Chinese negotiation. They keep cutting lumps out of our agreement, although we arent even surte that they understood teh terms we were asking in the first place so we havnt got near starting (or agreeing) anything yet, and I imagine nothing will really happen until after the Chinese New Year 28th Jan.

It could be that we are hanging around until then. We'll probably head south to Vietnam to try and save a few pennies and then if the job doesnt work out we'll head south to Sinagapore and find a flight to Europe. And thatll be that. Maybe a couple of weeks on a beach just to make you all sick. Or oursleves with some Avian variant. Hopefully not.

If we do work here it'll be an education. And not for the 8 universities they are planning to build here. I think the only want us for the decorative aspect of two european architects.... we shall see. they had better pay us first. Or else theyll never see Trinity College rise from the plains of Hennan. They'd love that I think.

Coree du Sud depuis la Chine

2006-01-01T14:48:00.000-01:00

Seoul.

je sais, je sais, ca fait deja presque un mois que nous avons quitte la Coree et je n'ai rien ecrit de definitif sur le sujet.
C'est que, voyez vous, nous avions un probleme.
On ne peut pas acceder a blogger depuis la Chine. Ferme, barre, censure.
Si ce message apparait dans notre blog, ce sera parce qu'il aura reussi a passer au travers des mailles du filet sous couvert d'innocente image issue de flickr. Je croise les dois...
La Coree donc.
C'est un pays que l'on voudrait aimer. mais c'est difficile. Il y a quelque chose dans l'air Coree qui a une vague odeur de truc enfoui et mal digere.
Techniquement le pays est encore en guerre avec son frere ennemi, la Coree du Nord. Le jour de notre arrivee au port de Busan la ville grouillait de militaires a cause du sommet des pays de la zone Asie Pacifique, et puis G W Bush est venu, mais surtout, personne n'avait l'air d'etre perturbe par l'omnipresence de ces grands gars en rangers armes de mitraillettes. Les voir patouiller etait normal. D'ailleurs, qui les voyait?
La Coree a trois ennemis a ses portes. Son demi frere la Coree du Nord, le Japon dont les crimes de guerre ne seront semble-t-il jamais excuses, et la Chine qui pourait sans doute ne faire qu'une bouchee du pays.
Avec ca il y a de quoi devenir parano.
Mais nous avons visite une ancienne prison japonaise et la zone demilitarisee. Les deux avaient des airs de foire.
La premiere parce que des manequins realistes et des hurlements enregistres peuplaient les anciennes salles de torture, et la deuxieme parce que la visite etait guidee par des GI goguenards qui menaient leur troupeau de frontiere hautement militarisee a l'atmosphere explosive en magasin de souvenirs ultra kitsch.
La Coree du Sud, un pays martire mais pret a se defendre jusqu'au bout...
Il y a d'autres choses deconcertantes dans ce pays. D'apres Vivina, un jeune coreenne que nous avons rencontre, 90% des femmes coreennes revent de chirurgie esthetique. Les murs des couloirs de metro sont couverts d'afiche pour des cliniques premettant grands yeux, gros seins et fesses rondes. Un pays ou ce que vous a donne la nature n'est jamais assez bon. Ce qui ve d'ailleurs de pair avec la relation des coreens a l'education de leurs enfants. Comme au Japon, tout enfant vivra deux ou trois annees de toute puissance et d'amour familial debordant avant de se trouver projeter dans l'enfer de l'ecole et des cours du soir.
Les profs d'anglais et de francais que nous avons rencontre etaient impressionnes par leurs capacites d'absorption... et par leur faculte a s'endormir en classe. Apres l'ecole il y a l'universite, et si possible l'annee passee aux Etats Unis dans une famille coreenne de la bas.
Ah, les Etats Unis, l'autre moitie du monde... la reference.
Forcement, a nous autres europeens, ce ne nous plait qu'a moitie.
il va falloir que nous nous y habituions. Le monde entier se fout de l'Europe. Comme dit Kevin, l'Europe sert de reference tout comme nous nous referons aux mondes grecs et romains.
Bon, si vous allez visiter la Coree, il ya un mot a retenir. Conficianisme. Une doctrine developpee par un sage chinois en des temps troubles ou personne ne pouvait se fier a son voisin. Une doctrine qui demandait paix et justice et recommandait pour y parvenir de respecter ses aines et ses superieurs hierarchiques.
Une doctrine qui ne s'est trouvee appliquee que des siecles plus tard, en des temps plus calmes, quand des dirigeants malins s'en sont servi pour assoir leur pouvoir. Aujourd'hui elle constitue encore la trame des societes japonaises et coreennes. Les chinois ont travaille dur pour essayer d'en eradiquer certains aspects, a l'epoque recente ou tout ce qui etait passe et traditions se devait de disparaitre.
En Coree elle est bien vivante. Elle justifie la position inferieure des femmes (parfois / souvent battues... pourquoi?), les bizutages a l'universite... et les places assises laisses aux personnes ages dans le metro. Comme quoi tout n'est pas mauvais.
Qu'est ce qu'il y a d'autre en Coree? Des filles plus belles et plus grandes que les japonaises, qui essayent de s'habiller elegament, des montagnes splendides pleines de marcheurs fous le weekend, des trains ultra rapides, des eglises partout avec des croix de neon rouge reminiscentes de films de science fiction. Une cuisine delicieuse, aux saveurs harmonieuses inepuisables et toujours surprenantes. Un peuple fier et travailleur, confiant dans le dynamisme d'un pays qu'il a construit en quelques dizaines d'annees sur un champ de ruines laissees par deux guerres successives. Des affiches denoncant la brutalite de la police devant la cathedrale de Seoul et des centaines de policiers facon CRS entourant la moindre manifestation. Des librairies qui vendent toutes les memes lvres et des cinemas qui passent tous les memes films Ce qui compte, c'est de faire partie d'un groupe. De partager les idees d'un groupe.
les etrangers qui y vivent font commes tous les expats. Certains y apprecient les plaisirs de la chair facile, les salaires eleves, les soirees regulieres, d'autres essayent de s'integrer et trouvent ca difficile, d'autre encore apprecient la gentillesse des habitants, leur energie tout en se lassant d'etre regulierement pousses de cote dans les queues ou de ne pas pouvoir se payer une bonne seance de cinema independant.
Nous, nous en repartons avec une impression mitigee. Beaucoup d'energie mais un peuple muni d'oeuilleres. Concentre sur ses buts mais sans vision nuancee du monde. Et peut etre sans curiosite. Ce qui sort du programme scolaire n'est pas au programme.
Je suis sans doute trop dure. Il faut du temps pour apprivoiser un pays si fondamentalement different. Les coreens avec qui nous avons discute etaient sympas, et en tous cas interessants, mais nous n'avons rencontre aucun etrange vivant en Coree qui nous ait dit adorer le pays.
Nous n'avons surement pas rencontre les bons. Ou peut etre que la Coree est de ces pays qui ne se laissent pas aimer a moins d'y avoir grandi.

Campagne

2005-12-02T03:26:00.000-01:00

Glass houses near Gyeongju.

J'aime cette photo, sa couleur et son grain.
Une photo de la campagne, celle dans laquelle nous ne nous sommes pas arretes, prise depuis un train ou un bus.
Voyager, c'est aussi ne pas voir.
Faire du stop au Japon nous a permis de passer du temps en rase campagne ou dans des petits villages, a attendre la prochaine voiture, nous reposer. Nous ne dependions pas des trains et bus qui ne relient que les villes principales ente elles. En Coree, utilisant ces memes trasports, nous sommes alles de grande ville en grande ville. Il est facile d'oublier les rizieres (agriculture protegee jusqu'a maintenant, mais le sommet de l'APEC va changer les choses), les maisons traditionnelle aux cours pleines de jarres, les serres en plastique couvrant des kilometre carrs, les chemins de terre.
Facile de ne retenir que les grands ensembles de beton, les neons, la foule, les tours ultramodernes et les palais imperiaux.

Seoul la nuit

2005-12-02T03:12:00.000-01:00

Seoul.

Voila...
Seoul la nuit ressemble a Tokyo la nuit, ou a toutes ces images de villes asiatiques couvertes de neons que vous avez pu voir. Difficile de sirculer dans ces rues. Il y a des clubs et des cars a tous les etages, et le rez de chaussee meme est encombre de vendeurs de marrons grilles, poulpe seche, legumes fris, beignets etc. Les filles sont elgantes, ou essayent de l'etre, cheveux raides, peau blanche, bouches roses, les couples portent des Tshirt coodonnes et se tiennent pas la main, les lyceens rodent en bande et personne n'a plus que 35 ans. Et puis il y a le bruit, la musique, la pap et le hip hop americains, les son des billes de patchinco, les pub hurlees par des adolscentes en minijupe dans des micros satures, les rires...

Reponse

2005-12-02T00:31:00.000-01:00

Royal tombs in Gyoengju, South Korea.

Yves: Monuments détruits par l'invasion japonaise : essayez d'approfondir le sujet, j'ai des doutes, mais je me trompe peut-être.

En fait il y a eu deux invasions japonaises, une au XVIeme et une au XXeme siecle. Et les deux, comme tout invasion, ont cause beaucoup de destructions (genre incendies etc). En fait, la deuxieme invasion a d'un sens ete la plus destructrice puisque les japonais ont essaye de detruire la culture coreenne elle meme, et ses symboles. Je ne sais pas si ils ont detruits plus de batiments, mais ils ont surement cree des blessures plus profondes. Un peu partout en Coree on peut trouver des panneaux "detruit par l'armee japonaise".

Yves: Ressentez-vous la compétition Corée - Japon ? Pour moi, c'est l'un des moteurs le plus puissant de la société coréenne. Mais est-ce vrai ?

Oui, la competition entre les deux pays est bien reelle... du cote coreen. Les japonais s'em foutent un peu.
Nous avons le meme genre de sentiments ici qu'en qu'en Armenie et en Georgie: un tout petit pays tout juste sorie des griffes d'un pouvoir etranger, dechire encore recemment par des luttes fratricides, encore en etat de choc mais essayant a se raccrocher a une histoire vieille de 2000 ans tout en accusant tous le monde de ses malheurs actuels. Les russes pour les georgiens, les russes, les turcs et les azeris pour les armeniens, les japonais et les coreens du Nord pour les coreens du Sud... La difference principle tenant au fait que les coreens sont extremement dynamiques et ont reussi a faire avancer l'economie de leur pays de facon extraordinaire. En fait, ils se considerent encore en voie de developpement... la ou d'autres se feliciteraient de leurs succes...

Art, architecture coreens

2005-12-01T03:22:00.000-01:00

IMG_5892.

Tradition, tradition...
Comme au Japon, comme en Chine, l'architecture fait le grand ecart. Le pays est sem de temples et de maisons traditionnelles perdues au milieu d'une architecture contemporaine directement sortie de l'occident.
Les vieux metiers se perdent, dit on. Au Japon, un magazine branche saluait la construction recente d'une maison traditionnelle construite et decoree de maniere traditionnelle, comme autrefois, par des artisans consideres tresors vivants. Une operation sponsorisee par le gouvernement pour preserver des savoirs faires. Une maison...une seule.
En Coree, ca a l'air d'etre un tout petit peu plus facile: ils se sont lances dans un enorme programme de restauration - entendez reconstructions - de leurs monuments detruits par l'occupation japonaise ou la guerre de Coree.
On peu visiter un peu partout des temples anciens datant d'il y 20 ans... ou 6 mois...
Les charpentiers, les peintres sont encore la.
un des traits les plus marquants des temples coreens est la peinture multicolore qui recouvre le moindre centimetre carre. Une coreenne nous a explique que la dexterite des artistes leur vient probablement de l'utilisaton des fines baguettes de metal coreennes qu'ils utilisent depuis leur plus jeune age. On veut bien les croire.
Le resultat est souvent tape a l'oeil, mais encore plus souvent charmant, avec des camaieux de bleus, verts et rouges superbes qui s'adoucissent vite au bout de quelques annes.

Automne en Coree du Sud

2005-12-01T03:07:00.000-01:00

IMG_5906.

Nous sommes arrives justes a temps pour les derniers feux des erables, les derniers ors des ginkos.
Les Coreens sont fiers de leur nature, de ce qu'il en reste. Il faut dire qu'elle est impressionnante.
Contrairement aux japonais ils arrivent encore a la respecter. Disons qu'ils ont moins tendance a couper des pans de montagnes entiers pour les couvrir de beton, par exemple.
Mais si vous esperez quelques heures de marche tranquille dans les bois un weekend, ou meme en seamine, abandonnez tout espoir: vous serez certainement entoure de centaines d'autres montagnards ardents, equipes de tous les derniers materiel indispensable, chaussures de montagne, batons de marche, vestes rembourrees rouge vif a poches multiples etc.
Il y a un cote fanatique chez les Coreens.
Ils l'expliquent par leur histoire pleine d'invasions. de guerres et de luttes fratricides. Ca les a rendus forts.
Alors quand ils font les choses ils le font a fond. Comme marcher dans la nature par exemple. Ou etudier. Ou travailler. Ou faire des Manifestations.

Korea

2005-11-30T03:34:00.000-01:00

Well, we have made it to Korea, and suitable fashion, we are just about to leave it again before I have even written anything about it. I havn't really had a good chance to write something decent on Japan either. The scale of it - having spent two months there - makes it a bit difficult to know where to start!

Well Korea was great as well. MOre or less as we imagined it would be, half way between China and Japan culturally, and having suffered at the hands of its neighbours on numerous occassions. The Koreans are a tough lot, prefer elegance to cuteness (cuteness being very big in Japan), directness to politeness (people walk into you the whole time - there is no stepping out of the way) - ques (standing in line) dont exist - which means that nobody ques, not that it is so efficient that there are no ques.

The economy is going pretty well too, unfortunately for the tourist, as the Won is up in value by 10% in the last 2 years. But still, this is probably the only place in the world that it is cheap to travel in taxis. It makes a great change to hitching.

There are many property millionaires as the values of appartments go through the roof. The economy is highly protected so almost everything seems to be locally produced. But everything seems to be produced by hte same 4 or 5 massive combines. Whole neighbourhoods even. Daewoo, Hyundai, LG (Lowe Goldstar) and Samsung being the monster of them all. I think Samsung first cut its teeth on Semiconductor production which is still the bedrock of the economy. You can see their logos plastered on the size of the endemic 30 storey tower blocks every where - they are still springing up. They look for all the world like very well appointed former Soviet Bloc housing, with a lick of paint. And everything works of course too. But the thing is when you are inside them, it is like you are inside one of these companies products, not a building. Everything in the building, including the building itself is designed by, engineered, built by, supplied by, wired by the same company who developped the site in the first place. The visual effect, is , well predicatble and depressing. Korean cities are not ones of great beauty. What they lack in beauty though they certainly make up for in vibrancy.

I knew that we would have succumbed to some sort of complacency after our long sojourn in the safest country in the world, but i never expected that Korean drivers to be nearly as legendary as our friends in Tbilisi.
Did you know that a red light is negotiable here? It doesnt really mean red unless your way is blocked in fact. Of course it does mean 'Stop' but they bend that rule a little too much for my liking. The net result, of course, is that here you do wait for the little green man, and then double check before crossing....mad!

The people are very special though. I suppose a people with a generation and a half of a pointless war (it is still not officially over) -the same war that 2 million people lost their lives in -and then having been able to turn the economy the country and peoples expectations around in such a short space of time is exceptional.

And for a country that has suffered some of the worst excesses of Military Dictatorship in the recent history, here it seems that the only place you will find Democracy is on the street. The Korean Demo puts the proud French Strike to shame. We were in Seoul Two days, and we already walked into two massive demos. All trade and labour related these days, but only a few years ago, there were the massive protests all over the country against the Generals that ran the country. the streets ran red.

Gwangju is a city about the size of Dublin in the South East of the country. It is regarded as the heartland of political protest and home of Korean Democracy. 25 years ago in 1980, many may remember, that there was a student protest on May 18 that was put down with such violence by the police and army (the soldiers bayoneted the protesters) that the rest of the city took up arms. Essentially the citizens over ran the police stations, militia and barracks, siezed the weapons, and drove the military out of town. The army was sent in with predictable results. But the actions in Gwangju ensured that Korean Democracy was not smothered in its cot, even if the cost in loss of lives was so high. But they had to wait over 15 years to see that happen. The two generals responsible for the massacres in Gwangju (Chun Doo- Hwan and Roh Tae-Woo later went on to become presidents in the 90's, and now in retirement they still draw an army salary. The first truly democratically elected president of South Korea in modern times came unsurprisingly from the Jeollananm-do area, the region with Gwangju - he was also the first president elected from outside of the Gyeonggi-do (the region containing Seoul). His name is Kim De-Jung. He actually pardoned the two generals in an amnesty.

Of course with such dynastic families of industrialists, absolute power of the military and tales of real heroes like those in Gwangju comes many a legend. A couple of my favourites are (the totally unsubstantiated - ie legends) the stories of Kim Dae-Jung during his presidential campaign in 1998 and the ongoing smear campaign of the industrialists, particularly Samsung allegedly, and their then CEO Lee Gun-Hee.
On winning the election Kim dae-Jung allegedly demanded that Lee Gun-Hee give him the Samsung landmark tower in central Seoul for the term of his presidency by way of reparation or just a demonstration of pure power, I dont know. If the CEO did not, he Kim dae-Jung would smash Samsung.

Interestingly enough Lee Gun-Hee (former CEO president of Samsung) is now mayor of Seoul.

The other legend revolves around another massive Korean Company, Hyundai - (those of the car). Hyundai is one of the South Korean companies who have being doing most to make inroads into the Northern Economy, trying to get it going in some manner or means. They were instrumental in agreeing a free trade area just accross the DMZ in North Korea. They have a large concern (factory/business) there. But it seems that is a loss making excercise, and one that is closer to the patriotic heart of the Hyundai founder Jung Ju-Young than those of his business minded sons. All apart one of them, that is, his second son Jung Mong-Heoh, who had the credentials to be the next very successful CEO of Hyundai. He too shared his fathers ideals in pumping money into the north.

Whether their ideas were truly altruistic or patriotic I dont know, but it is implied as such, and the disagreements in the family were very real indeed. So much so that the strife finally led Jung Mong-Heoh to jump from the 8th floor of the Hyundai building in Seoul.

Any other country in the west would have immediately jumped on the conspiracy theory here. But, there, emphatically and tragically of course, the sons suicide is the end of story. No further debate or specualtion entered into.

Perhaps there is a real case of lost in translation in all these stories, but even ancient legends, seem to have this bizarre incongruity. famous Buddhist Monks who accidentally fall in a river in order to be taken to the Princess' abode "and this is how the princess finally gave birth to a Son" was favourite one of mine from Gyeongju, home of the ancient Silla kingdom. I am sure they are missing something there. Or maye they are laudably straight forward in their story telling. I come from a country where embellishment and 'aibheal' (exageration) is an art form in itself, and have developed cultural filters to allow me to get to some nub of the story. Anyway. I look forward to reading many more Korean legends, stories and intrigues.

Well, I hope I can write more about Korea and Japan in China. Apparently you cant access this blog from within China co we'll be relying on feedback from you lot to to let us know if our posts are appearing - we'll be emailing them to the site, not accessing it directly, so you'll have to let us know by email.

bye for now

Tori at Miyajima

2005-11-12T03:35:00.000-01:00

Tori at high tide.

I keep wanting to make a joke about the British conservatives and floating Tori. SOmething that wont go away no matter how much you flush. Or something like that.

Tori at low tide.

The Real Tori. (Tori, not Tora, as in Tora,Tora,Tora...) It is a gate for the Gods to enter into the shrine. It is very large and red. Apparently the Shrine is honour of three Goddesses. I am surprised they all agreed to use the same door, AND that they all agreed on the same colour

9th Grade Junior High School English Project.

We were passing by at the wrong time, and got a 'free' tour of the Tori, the Shrine and we got quizzed on the vitalstatistics. The last time the Tori was rebuilt was in 1875 by the way, and the Shrine has 260m of corridor. Just in case you wanted to know. Interestingly enough, just accross the road from the school is another mini floating Tori, the one in this photograph, which sufficed for their rehearsal.
This would imply that they have been doing this for the past 1000 odd years, or at least as long as there has been Gaijin English teachers coming to Japan. SO at least 1000 years. So they had this mini tori built for the purpose. Pratical and indusrious lot these guys.

'Floating' Tori Miyajima`.

The famous Tori (gate) at night. It is really impressive, and it still retains a lot of its power despite being one of the Japanese World Heritage Sites (ie swamped with visitors)

Paper Cranes Hiroshima Childrens Memorial

2005-11-12T03:32:00.000-01:00

Paper Cranes Hiroshma Childrens Memorial.

An incredibly moving memorial to all the children who suffered or died as a result of the A Bomb on Hiroshima. It is hard to describe the power of the exhibitions and memorials. It is hard to believe that there are still nuclear weapons, and we are looking at further proliferation.

Little Boy, la bombe lachee sur Hiroshima est en train de devenir une legende. Une histoire ancienne. Le dome au squelette d'acier mis a nu qui est devenu le symbole d'Hiroshima retrecit d'annee en annee, a mesure que la ville se reconstruit, s'epanouit et pousse des gratte-ciels de plus en plus nombreux. Aujourd'hui, il a l'air comme pousse dans un coin, a demi cache derriere des arbres, a l'ombre d'autres batiments plus grands, plus forts, plus emblematiques. Alors c'est ce monument aux enfants qui devient symbole. Chaque classe en visite y depose une guirlande de grues en origami apres une minute de silence observee religieusement, la tete baissee, les yeux fermes. Mais l'origine de ces grues elle meme est en train de devenir legende, celle de Sadako, la petite fille atteinte de leucemie 10 ans apres avoir ete irradiee qui entrepris de plier un millier de grues pour etre sauvee. Selon les sources, elle n'aurait jamais atteint le millier. Ou elle l'aurait largement depasse, continuant a plier des oiseaux de plus en plus minuscules et delicats dans des bouts de papier d'emballage jusqu'a la fin. Selon les sources sa mere lui aurait demande de le faire, ou elle aurait ete inspiree par une histoire entendue, ou elle aurait tout simplement eu l'idee toute seule. Soixante ans ont passe deja. En ce qui me concerne, il m'a fallu voir les photos de corps mourrants brules, a la peau charbonneuse, pour me sentir vraiment secouee. Les 140 000 morts d'Hiroshima a la fin de l'annee 1945 n'avaient pas de visage. Les photos de la ville detruite, rasee, quelques cheminees de brique se dressant au dessus d'un champs de ruine n'avaient pas de realite. Peut etre que je ne marche qu'a l'empathie. J'ai besoin de voir la soufrance pour la ressentir. Je suppose que je ne suis pas la seule. Il reste quelques survivants aujourd'hui, mais ils sont de plus en plus freles. Dans vingt ans ils auront disparu et il ne restera plus personne pour raconter. L'histoire d'Hiroshima est terrible. Chacun connait maintenant les effets a long terme de la bombe et de radiations. Alors qui, qui peut justifier les centaines de bombes entreposees en France, en Grande Bretagne, en Chine, en Russie, en Inde, au Pakistan, en Israel peut etre.?

Solene and Ian

2005-11-12T03:30:00.000-01:00

Solene and Ian.

The African side of Solene's family. Ian is a great host - we are really looking forward to meeting up with him again, sometime somewhere-

Hokkaido

2005-10-30T11:15:00.000-01:00

Les japonais disent que Hokkaido n'est pas le Japon.
Ils disent aussi que le Japon n'est pas l'Asie.
La deuxieme affirmation est discutable, mais la premiere l'est moins...
A Hokkaido il y a de l'espace, des routes droites et vides qui font le bonheur des motards, des maisons qui ressemblent a des isbas, des vaches (hollandaises), des chevaux...
Les deux premiers mots que l'on y apprend son "samui" et "kuma". Soit "froid" et "ours".

Azaleas and silver birchs in Hokkaido.

L'un ou l'autre, selon votre interlocuteur, sont une bonne raison pour ne pas camper.
Ca ne nous a pas empeche de le faire, encore que vers la fin, quand les temperatures noctures descendaient sous les 5 degres celsius, nous avons decouvert les plaisirs des rider houses, qui offraient pour presque rien un toit et un futon. Notre bain quotidien etait pris a l'onsen (source thermale) locale. Nous avons goute a tout: le bain public minuscule au carrelage decole, le furo d'un gymnase municipal, les bains de luxe de grands hotels... Le rituel de l'onsen devient vite une seconde nature.
Deshabillage, lavage, bains successifs, redouche, sechage. Ne pas oublie les deux serviettes, une pour se laver / se couvrir partiellement / se secher sommairement, la deuxieme pour se secher pour de bon et couvrir le panier contenant ses vetements.
Nous avons parcouru Hokkaido en stop. Jamais plus de 20 minutes d'attente, et des chauffeurs allant jusqu'a nourrir quand ils ne decidaient pas de nous heberger pour la nuit ("samui"!!!). Nous avons pris notre temps, deux semaines et demi, mais les routes etaient belles, les rencontre extraordinaires et nous avions besoin de tout cet espace apres la densite de Honshu.
Nous sommes alles de Sappora a Soya Misaki tout au Nord, d'ou nous avons vu Sakkaline, puis de Saya jusqu'a Shiretoko, a l'Est, ou nous avons vu des ours.
Des ours!
Des vrais!
Une mere et son petit descendant vers la riviere pour pecher les saumons deja epuises la remontant. Difficile de faire plus mignon qu'un ourson. Mais nous etions entoures de 20 autres personnes armees de super zooms et surplombions les animaux de cinq metre. Comme au zoo. En fait l'endroit etait connu: s'y poster vers dix heures garantissait presque de voir un ou plusieurs animaux descendre pecher. Ca a marche!
A part les saumons et les ours, les autres animaux omnipresents etaient les daims. Beaucoup plus gros que ceux de Nara, et avec leurs andouillers au complet (ceux des daims de Nara sont scies a l'automne), ils apparaissaient un peu partout. La premiere nuit nous les entendions machouiller autour de notre tente (non, les ours ne machouillent pas).
Voyager a Hokkaido c'est un peu comme aller de mer en lac, de lac en volcan, de volcan et mer, de mer en lac volcanique... A Honshu on va de ville en ville et de temple en temple. A Hokkaido c'est la nature qui fait le spectacle. Surtout en automne alors que les feuilles virent au dore et au rouge...

Mais a Hokkaido il y a aussi autre chose. Un autre peuple donton parle rarement. avez vous entendu parle des Ainu?
Quand j'etais enfant on en partlait presque comme d'un peuple mourant. Il semble qu'a present, apres des annees de luttes pour leurs droits civiques, leur culture commence un renouveau. En gros, les Ainus sont au Japon ce que les indiens sont a l'Amerique: un peuple qui etait la "avant" et qui a ete partiellement anihile. Toujours est il qu'il y maintenant tout une serie de musees Ainu a Hokkaido, des festivals Ainu, des villages Ainu vendant des souvenirs Ainu, des spectacles Ainu etc. les Ainu sont bons pour le tourisme.
En realite, ils souffrent toujours de discrimination, mais on sent une certaine fierte chez certains d'entre eux.
Si vous voulez en savoir plus:
http://www.ainu-museum.or.jp/english/english.html
http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2244.html
(desolee, c'est en anglais...)

Mushrooms on a volcanic mud trail.

Parc national Akan
Voila ce qui arrive apres qu'une riviere de boue volcanique ait tout detruit.
La vie reprend.

Adventures in Hokkaido

2005-10-30T11:06:00.000-01:00

Hello all -

doing a lot of back dated work at the moment, trying to catch up on all that has happened since, oooh, October the 10th and the massive other chunks of time before that.

Hokkaido is the northern most island of the Japanese Archipelago, the darkest, coldest and wildest part of Japan. It is so far away from civilisation that soemtimes the only light at night is the light that comes from the vending machines that have somehow managed to populate even the most remote areas of Japan. It is also a land of lots of bears (Kuma in Japanese) deer and other assorted wildlife (snowboarders and the like). It is also completely covered in Onsen (natural hot springs) some free, some cheap, but everywhere you go you will find them. I dont think anybody actually needs a hot tap in their house. Of course there are the volcanoes that go along with such luxury, one particularly fiesty one that grew out of a farmers field near Toya-Ko of a morning in 1943. It is now a good 400ms high, and belonging to a family of three or so volcanoes. The volcanoes are active enough that the locals dont spend too much time in the bath.

Mainly though, it is just full of really sound (nice) people, who more or less chauffeured us around the whole island, fed us, put us up for the night, gave us astonishing amounts of alcohol and then fed us some more.

We arrived in Otaru, the port of Sapporo - home of all the beers in Japan, and home to Guinness in Japan as well as it happens. We had our first capsule hotel and onsen experience in the same evening - the Safra hotel and spa having its own Onsen(hot spring) and rotenburo (outdoor bath) as well. The capsules were, capsules, about twice to three times the size of the space on a lower bunk -small but not claustraphobic at all. The onsen on the other hand was palatial. it took me ages to try and figure out the protocol, I knew the theory, but when it came to the practicals, you know, which towels, where to go etc....it was quite daunting.... I know it all now but I am not telling anyone else, that I may ruin the entire experience for them. Or at least save them from some embarrassment.

Next morning we got out of Sapporro a bit and stuck out our thumb. We got a lift in a Mini (a previous driver who had given us a lift in a 1967 VW Beatle reckoned that the classic minis are really popular in Japan because of Mr. Bean)
Our driver is a soldier in the Japanese Defence force, something I am learning more and more about as we go around Japan. Our travels are taking place to the backdrop of the elections and a time of fairly significant change in Japan, at least some days that is what it feels like. OUr next lift was from a nurse up to Rumoi, our next destination. She was learning english as she wanted to go to the States. She wanted NY, her husband California. I wonder how they`ll get on. She was great as well. She nearly caused an accident on the road when she stopped to U-turn to come back and pick us up. A lot of our lifts have come from people doing U turns to come back to pick us up....people tend to come back once they have got over the shock.

Hitching is gas in Japan. It is so unexpected for everyone it seems. Some people try to ignore you, almost embarrassed by your presence on the side of the road. It feels that way - that if they acknowledged you that they would be obliged to stop and pick you up- so that they actually swerve around us as they go by. Truckers and others - delivery drivers and the like would wave or laugh, relaxed in the knowledge that they werent allowed pick us up. The funniest was from people who were genuinely stunned. I still want to learn the Japanese for `close your mouth please` and write it in Kanji on a board to hold out as they pass. That`s another thing, we dont use a destination board, you just stick out your thumb. If you hold out a sign with your destination, people may feel that because they arent going all the way there they`re not really of help to the hitcher. So you just stick out your thumb and when they stop, point at the map and say `this way` in Japanese, and then when you`re in the car you say `actually we are going there` and they often say `me too! Let`s stop for Sushi`. Avoiding the hopsitality can be impossible. On our way along the northern coast of Hokkaido, a lady and her friend picked us up, from the auspicious location of the northern most point of japan, and brought us home. After dropping her friend home she brought us back to her place. We waited for her husband, they then fed us, decided that it was too cold to camp, brought us to the local onsen and put us up for the evening in their spareroom. The only embarrassment was when the towels that they gave myself and Solene got mixed up in the dark in the back of the car on the way to the Onsen, so I arrived into the baths with a pink `Hello Kitty` towel concealing my bits. I had the bath to myself.

The longest we waited for a lift in our whole time in Japan may have been about 40 minutes. The average wait is much shorter, 10 to 20 minutes. We usually make our destination in two or three trips. It is quicker than taking a bus in rural areas, and certainly cheaper. The best thing is that you actually get to meet people, not just other back packers in a hostel, other tourists in a hotel. Just Joe Japan going about their daily business.

We have been staying with a lot of foreign teachers, all english teachers, despite mostly being from North America where a lot of people actually speak french I believe. A great bunch, that sometimes have the haunted air of missionaries in the land that time forgot. Some are people who were sick of their jobs and doing laundry, and decided to go and work and do their laundry somewhere else, others are total snowboard addicts,

to be continued.....

From Shiretoko, Hokkaido, Northern Japan

2005-10-10T22:51:00.000-01:00

Here we are, having visited the Northern most point of Japan, just to see Sakhalin Island - or Russia to the rest of you. Yes, I though Id seen enough of it too!

So we`ve hitched from Sapporo in the west of the island all the way along the east and North Shore as far as the Shiretoko peninsula. The hitching has been incredible the amount of people we have met, wo have fed us, put us up for the night generally overwhelmed us with hospitality has been amazing...

Anyway, Shiretoko has recently been made World Heritage Site of Natural beauty etc - a sure way in Japan of endangering the whole place. The Lonely Planet recounts a story about how the government once made a particular type of Hokkaido Algae `a national treasure` and overnight the green balls of goo became an endangered national treasure. Shiretoko is amazing, but it is also amazing for its 3km traffic jams in the back of beyond.

It was OK though because we were walking, much to the amusment of the coach loads of tourists who ploughed by us.

We have seen more wildlife than is sensible to wave a stick at. Returning salmon coming in from the sea, and struggling up civil engineered Japanese rivers, getting ragged and haggard looking from their final push from salt to sweet water. Millions of deer, all sika, with the permanent expression of surprise on their faces, but best of all was a Brown Bear and her cub (from a safe distance) trundling through the forest on their way down to a river to add to the poor salmons` list of woes.

Trying to head south, getting nippy up here, even though it is far further south than Ireland and most of France, tent has survived a mad storm and us with it - some very funny photos of that...

We will be heading to Honshu in about a week I suppose、straight to Kyoto and Nara where we can properly complain about tourists and meet the Hokaido deers` urban relatives, who would take the food out of your pocket, according to Perrine. We shall be on our guard, we have become complacent in this very safe country.

It is a strange thing when it is the Monkeys and Deers you have to watch out for in tourist areas...

Makes a welcome change.

Until next time, we have a lot of writing to catch up on! We are publishing old posts as well, so that stuff we started writing 3 months ago may get published this month. However, I have to figure out how I can add a link to go to recently published posts. Next time!

Niigata

2005-09-28T01:31:00.000-01:00

Niigata beach.

Une ville que nous avons aime. Nous y sommes restes trois jours, campant dans un parc public a la lisiere de la plage, puis entre deux bateaux apres qu'un policier nous ait reveilles le deuxieme jour de maniere tres impolie. Le pauvre homme a presque eu une attaque cardiaque en me voyant sortir de la tente.
Il y a beaucoup de sans abris au Japon. Les japonais disent qu'ils le sont par choix. Que le gouvernement leur procurerait un logement si ils le voulaient. On peu voir leus maisons de cartons couvertes de baches de plastique bleu dans les parcs de toutes les grandes villes, ou sagement allignees dans les souterrains qui quadrillent les sous sols urbains.
Notre policier devait donc s'attendre a voir un homme entre deux ages emerger de la tente, pas une fille blonde en debardeur mesurant une tete de plus que lui. J'ai explique que nous partions pour Hokkaido le jour meme, il a verifie mon passeport et est parti en gromelant des excuses.
La nuit suivante nous nous sommes installes entre deux bateaux de pecheur abandonnes, et avons cree l'evenement a l'aube, heure ou ces messieurs en bottes de coutchouc sortaient les barques a l'aide de mini tracteurs et reparaient filets et cannes a peche.

Niigata bicycles.

Usually, everything is tidy in Japan.
Usually.
But, you know, they don't have that much room, so sometimes, they have to pile things up.
Usually.
Niigata est une belle ville. Decontractee apres le stress palpable de la region de Tokyo. Il y a la mer, une riviere aux belles berges amenagees, un superbe centre artistique tout neuf a l'architecture impressionnante et la programmation passionante, des quartiers populaires pleins de cafes et restaurants, une rue entiere doublant comme marche permanent, des petits temples charmants... Nous avons eu de la chance: plus tard, a Hokkaido, nous avons rencontre des americains vivant a Niigata. L'hivers y serait gris, lour, humide et froid. Quand nous y etions le soleil a brille radieux sans discontinuer...

Nikko

2005-09-26T06:40:00.000-01:00

Nikko.

Une statue dans un des temples non touristiques de Nikko, un de ces temples de quartier aux cimetieres fleuris. Du moins, celui la l'etait quand nous nous y sommes aventures. Cent metres plus loin nous aurions du lutter contre des armees de vieilles dames a parpluies ou des groupes de salarymen en deplacement d'entreprise. La, il n'y avait qu'un homme et sa petite fille avec un bouquet de fleurs, et deux ou trois personnes entre deux ages qui nous ont souri comme a de vieux amis.

Nikko, river at sunset.

La riviere qui coule dans la vallee de Nikko.
La photo a l'air... normale...
En fait, un peu plus en amont et un peu plus en aval, il y a du beton. Plein. On ne sait jamais, la riviere pourrait deborder un jour, ronger ses berges, tout emporter.
A Shikoku il y a une riviere presentee fierement comme la seule riviere a cours libre du Japon.
Ca donne a penser.

Note on pictures - a propos des photos

2005-09-20T01:22:00.000-01:00

Up until now we have been using image venue as a free host for our pictures, but unfortunately the supporting advertising that appears with the enlarged version of the image has been getting seedier and seedier. We have decided that we can no longer send the good people who read our blog (and my younger, innocent brothers of course) to a page with links to free porn etc. etc.. so if anyone knows of a site that can host photos free for an unlimited amount of time, 2mb file size and a large number of files, perferably with a multiple file upload ability, we'd be very grateful. At the moment we are using the blogger picture up load but we can only up load one at a time. Another quicker and cleaner site would be best and we would be further able to protect my 'pure as the driven snow' younger brothers from suzys saucy sex line. yours puritanically - Kevin

Jusqu'a present nous avons utilise image venue comme hebergement gratuit pour nos photos, mais malheureusement la pub qui va avec est devenue de plus en plus axee sur la pornographie. Donc nous allons nous servir de blogger, mais nous ne pouvons ajouter les images que une par une. Donc si vous connaissez un site plus rapide sans pub pornographique qui hebergerait des images gratuitements, faites le nous savoir...

Depuis Ashikaga

2005-09-20T00:15:00.000-01:00

Et voila, ca fait trois semaines que nous sommes au Japon et nous avons a peine quitte la region de Tokyo.
Nous avons passe une petite semaine eprouvante dans la capitale. Tokyo est une de ces villes qui vous vide rapidement du peu d'energie qu'il vous reste. Arriver a moitie malade n'a surement pas aide.
Toujours est il que notre epuisement a ete l'excuse parfaite pour passer quelques jours paresseux chez Soness puis chez Darryl, tous deux rencontres par Couchsurfing.
Soness est americaine, elle vit au Japon depuis 8 ans et, bien qu'ayant commence sa vie ici comme prof d'anglais, elle est maintenant officiellement actrice et chanteuse. Comme si loin de chez soi on pouvait realiser ses reves d'enfant.
Elle vit a Chigasaki, un paradis pour surfeurs, une petite ville tranquille a une heure de Tokyo ou tout le monde se ballade avec des planches de surf accrochees a son velo, et de la plage de laquelle on peut parfois voir le Mont Fuji.

Darryl est canadien. Il est prof d'anglais ici depuis quatre ans. Il habite a Heda sur la peninsule d'Izu. Imaginez un village de pecheurs, des vieilles maisons de bois survivant sous les pentes abruptes de collines coucertes d'une foret dense, des orangeraies, des bateaux minuscules... ajoutez un peu d'architecture contemporaine, deux ecoles surdimensionnes des annes 60 et vous y etes. La peninsule d'Izu est splendide. Fuji San est encore plus proche que depuis Chigasaki.
Chris, qui nous heberge a Ashikaga, est americain et prof d'anglais depuis quatre mois.
A part durant notre tout premier jour au Japon, nous n'avons rencontre presque que des etrangers.
Et c'est par eux que nous commencons a nous faire une idee du pays meme si, bien sur, j'avais deja tous mes souvenirs d'enfance et toutes les images bizarres et fascinantes que le Japon projette a l'etranger.
Pour nous, simples touristes, tout est rose. Chaque jour nous sommes confrontes a la gentillesse de passants, de parfaits inconnus. Parfois, bien sur, quelque chose grince un peu vaguement quelque part. Des hommes qui hesitent avant de me serrer la main, en dernier, une jeune fille qui passe de politesse souriante a manque total d'empathie des qu'elle a fini de faire son devoir, des passants qui ne s'excusent pas apres vous etre rentre dedans...
Pas grand chose, juste assez pour casser le miroir lisse d'une politesse omnipresente.
Mais bien sur, quand on discute avec les etrangers qui vivent ici on devine une aute realite. Soness, Darryl et Chris ont coisi de vivre au Japon, et tous les trois y sont heureux, mais aucun d'eux ne vit vraiment dans la societe japonaise. Leurs meilleurs amis sont toujours etrangers.
La plupart de leurs amities japonaises sont entachees du soupcon qu'elles ne soient dues qu'a l'atrait de cours d'anglais gratuits.
La phrase "ce n'est pas etonnant quand on pense qu'il y a moins de deux siecles le Japon etait totalement ferme au monde exterieur" revient souvent dans les conversations.
Il est facile ici de parler de racisme, du droit des femmes, de l'education brutale des enfants. Tout comme il est facile de s'emerveiller de la creativite de ces memes enfants a l'ecole, de 'esprit de corps, de la production artistique, de l'inventivite japonaise.
Un tour dans le musee national a Tokyo, pour un oeil europeen non entraine, montre 2000 ans d'histoire, de production artistique homogene. Bien sur n'importe quel specialiste de l'Orient verrait immediatement la difference entre deux sabres ou deux theieres produits a 400 ans d'intervale. Pa nous. Le style est different mais pas la technique. L'histoire de la production artistique europeenne par comparaison est brouilonne et compliquee, pleine de rebondissements et de retours en arriere.
C'est la premiere fois que je suis dans un pays que je ne comprends pas. Dont j'ai l'impression que je ne comprendrai jamais les habitants.
Meme si Anton, un finlandais rencontre chez Soness m'a murumure en reponse: "au bout du compte, les gens sont toujours des gens...".

Chigasaki et Enoshima

Kamakura

Heda

From　Tokyo

2005-09-03T11:48:00.000-01:00

We are sitting in a rather trendy Internet Cafe joint　in the Shibuyu district of Tokyo, trying to download photos and sort out CDs and what not. No more free internet in the apple store - it is a bit of a killer as you have to stand while typing... nevermind.

Anyway, Solene is downloading our photos and crashing computers while she is at it and trying to explain to the assistant why the machine is crashing. Of course nobody speaks english here, let alone French, so there is an awful lot of Polite nodding going on. I will keep you informed.

Sitting in the common room of the New Azuma Hotel last night, swapping tales with various travellers.(somebody has arrived speaking english to Solene - it appears that ctrl-alt-del function might do something different on a Japanese Keyboards - I am sure he speaks english - I am not sure he knows what he is doing) the freshly arrived travellers in Japan just newly embarked on new travels were shocked at the traffic and aggressive Taxi Drivers. Unfortunately I couldn`t hold myself back - it was `You should have been in Tbilisi` before I could stop myself and then I embarked on our lengthy travel stories centred on crazy Turkish truckers and Georgian `Taxis`...

I already fear for the attention span of potential Grandchildren, let alone immediate friends and family. I am already boring the pants of total strangers. And Solene. She has heard it all before, at least ten times, heard all the theories, all the jokes, so much so that there was a soft cough from the other side of the common room which rescued many holiday makers from certain slide show type boredom. I am already an old fart. I belong at the end of the Bar in some country pub. C`mere `til I tell you about Japan. Pass that Pint.

I suppose my need to tell everyone I meet about our travels and adventures is a reaction of sorts.....5 months is a long time on the road, especially when you are moving practically every second day. There is a lot to take in and a lot to absorb. Yet you dont ever get the opportunity to absorb and reflect. That is, we thought, unless you have a friend or refuge in the corner of the world that can offer you a darkened room and a cup of Barrys Tea (thanks to all of them - too many already to nention in a pair of brackets). Unfortunately our hosts around the world are wonderful people and refuse to neglect us in anyway, and thus ply us with local liquor, points of view, food and introduce us to even more friends and leave us with yet more to absorb.

In fairness whole days have been spent in darkened rooms, but only to recover from Vodka hangovers and general excesses of hospitlality.

SO I suppose we are complaining - well at least I am - that we need a holiday from this travelling in order to make sense of it all - or at least to download the last 1.5gb of photos and to try and catch up on all the blanks in my journal (SOlene has left for some other machine with the assistant and interpreter - I am afraid that story ends here) - remembering names of people and places from three countries ago, sequence of events and overall impressions and to just get it down and absorb it somehow. A year on the road is a gluttony of sorts, and is bound to lead to indigestion, or worse lack of appreciation.

On the other hand I have realised that taking a tour like this has numerous benfits, in that you can travel relatively slowly yet cover much more ground than you would in a three week holiday, get places that you wouldnt consider going, meet a lot more ordinary people and not just those on the tourist trail. It is like 12 years of holidays in one trip. Also you can compare all the countries with their prior neighbour -

In fact I am not sure that I can do a decent comparison anymore between Ireland or Netherlands or even the UK with any of the countries we have been in the last 5 months. The country that lives on in your RAM is the previously visited country. And besides, it is two years since I arrived in the UK and it 4 years this month I left Ireland for the Netherlands. It seems like an age and no time at all. But I am sure they have all changed. But these 5 months seem timeless - endless and full. The difficulty is that you begin to wonder if　you actually appreciate all of this.

I was talking to a fellow traveller about this last night, and i think that the interest in the museums and sights and `special` things wane after three months of touring. You feel like you can be more selective　and you know what you will enjoy visiting or seeing.

But what gets more and more interesting and even fascinating is meeting the people in and from a place. Fortunately everywhere we have been so far we have been lucky enough to be able to stay with people from or living in the country or region. It really is the best　part of the travelling. I suppose it is a bit like reading Marco Polo or any of the earlier travellers who had no choice but to stay with the locals in the locals house or hut or Yurt or whatever. There was just travelling, no tourism at all.

Solene was reading me an article in a Japanese english language magazine, about tourism in Indonesia, where the effect of tourism on local society has been taken to a new level. There, tourists are clamouring to go to see cremation ceremonies. there are stories abound of so many Japanese, European and Australian tourists clamouring around the pyre to get a look and a sniff that the locals from the village and presumably personally connected to the deceased cant get near the pyre.

The Tourist Board have tried to do recreations, but admit that they cant get the atmosphere and particularly the smell right.

What does it smell like?

A damn good barbeque apparently.

I remember bus tours of Belfast for tourists who wanted to see all the different areas from the Troubles.....that was just a bit macabre, but you can understand and even appreciate peoples curiosity　in that case....But a funeral?

My Great Uncle Willie Doyle back-packed around Europe at the end of the second World War. I suppose that maybe regarded as macabre too. I am sure after nearly 6 years of listening to war reports on the Radio, off the coast of everywhere else, I would want to go and see what had happened. I don`t know if he kept a journal, photos or anything. But I do know that he spent the next 30 years trying to get Ireland into the EU as a Senior Officer in the Ministry of Finance...

Good job too.

Gianluca, an Italian Photo Journalist we met in Tbilisi had a nice toast -
"If life is a journey, then travelling is living twice."

Sayonara from Tokyo for tonight -

Photos from St. Petersburg, Moscow to Irkutsk

2005-09-01T08:48:00.000-01:00

Tokyo

2005-09-01T08:18:00.000-01:00

Quelques lignes depuis l'un des endroits les plus branches de la planete...
Se retrouver au Japon apres deux jours sur un bateau russe fait un choc. Mais pas aussi grand que je m'y attendais.
En fait, je suppose que nous connaissons tous le Japon, d'un sens. Que l'on y ait vecu ou non. Nous en voyons des images constamments, dans des films, des publicites, les mangas...
Cet imaginaire collectif est probablement plus implante en moi maintenant que mes souvenirs d'enfance.
Mais je ne m'attendais pas a ce qu'il y a de plus visiblie ici, cet aspect immacule de toutes choses. La campagne entre Fushiki et Toyama etait decoupee en petites rizieres parfaites, toutes lourdes de riz pret a etre moissonne., Les maisons etaient aussi belles que sur des cartes postales, les routes toutes comme neuve (apres la Russie et le Caucase, vous parlez d'un depaysement...).
Nous avons fait du stop entre Fushiki et Tokyo. Il nous a fallu une heure et demie pour etre pris la premiere fois, mais notre deuxieme chauffeur est arrive en moins de dix minutes. Et la, tres vite, nous avons ete confrontes a la gentillesse extraordinaire des japonais. Entre un monsieur rencontre sur le bateau qui voulait nous preter 10000 yens chacun, un homme qui, apres nous avoir parle 5 minutes, a laisse 400 yens sur notre table "pour acheter a boire", notre second chauffeur qui nous a nouri, nous a offert des boissons, et a fait un detour par le centre ville de Tokyo rien que pour nous a minuit passe...
Tous ces pays ou des etrangers vous offrent leur hospitalite, leur temps, leur argent, leur sourire sans rien attendre en retour me font trouver l'Europe de l'Ouest bien mesquine et refermee sur elle meme. Le reste du monde, au jour le jour, est genereux. Pas nous.

Tokyo, Ginza District, Apple Shop

2005-09-01T08:17:00.000-01:00

Taking advantage of Apple`s free internet in their amazing store in Tokyo.

Madness! we managed to hitch from Toyama to Tokyo yesterday after finally disembarking from the MV Rus chock full of Russian Car buyers. Unfortuntely we ended up in Tokyo way too late (1am), and even the parks were closed - so no where to pitch a tent! So we kipped in someones front garden in the Shibuya district. Didnt pitch the tent though - it was roasting.
We also had ship lag, as Japan is two hours behind Vladivostok, somehow, despite being further east....

I suppose it is a bit like kipping overnight in the front garden of a house in Aylesbury Road, except much safer!

Anyway we have accomodation now....

Certainly most things bar the train is on a par price wise with the UK and Ireland. We are seeing if we can swing a 43 euro a day budget between us. We managed ok until now except in Greece and Italy - it is going to be a challenge now though!

Hitching was brilliant. It took an age to actually get onto the main Highways but after that two lifts saw us the 450 km to Tokyo - the last guy was actually going to Yokohama and went 100k out of his way to drop us in the centre of Tokyo. Unbelievable.

We met up with Solene`s sister Perrine today and had a really relaxed time just looking around. Tokyo is an amazing place, especiall cliched as it is, for us architects. Everything we have seen is brilliantly designed, brilliantly detailed and brilliantly built.

Perhaps it was just to long in the Taiga and Permafrost fo Siberia, but I dont think so.

It is forecast to rain for the next two days or so we are hopeful to post a few more em..posts... about Russia et al.

Oh, and the continuing mystery of the spread of Dunnes Stores shopping bags....

the other side of the world

2005-09-01T00:11:00.000-01:00

(copy of a group email...)

we arrived there in the end, far far far away.
Valdivostok.
It does exist!
In a few days we will be in a boat to Japan, not quite ready maybe to deal with the shock of a so different culture.
Travelling in Russia is like going constantly from one extreme to the other, from ugliness to beauty, aggressivity to amazing generosity...
It is a country I came to love in a few hours in a train being offered shot of vodka after shot of vodka while a marvellous lanscape of forests and marshes dotted with timber houses passed by. Endlessly it seemed.
It is also a country where I was afraid of policemen for the first time of my life. Or where getting a smile from anybody behind a counter can seem to be a victory. We are getting good at this sport.
We can't say that we know Russia after just a month in it. It is way to huge for it.
I just know I would like to come back to the East, to Siberia and to the Pacific coast, for the landscape and the amazing people you can meet there.
But probably I will go back to Moscow as well because Ksenia and Alexandra were like gardian angels for us, helping us finding places to stay as far as here (thank you Ksenia!!!), and that we didn't spend enough time with them in a way. Moscow is so complex that we need Moscow people to explain it to us.

From now on we will be heading South, mostly. The US are tempting, so close when you are in Eastern Russia (just look at a map!), but we will save them for another time.

Russie depuis Vladivostok

2005-08-24T01:53:00.000-01:00

Waoh, quel pays!!!
On trouve de tout ici, une nature somptueuse et des decharges sauvages le long des routes, des policiers menacants a Moscou et d'autres qui preferent passer le temps a flirter et boire des cafes a Vladivostok, des dames ronchons et franchement pas aidantes derriere leurs guichets et de parfaits inconnus prets a partager leur repas, leur vodka et meme leur maison avec vous. L'electricite est arrvivee le 31 juillet dernier a Khuzhir, sur le lac Baikal et, en ce moment meme, les Autostoppers Russes deversent des tonnes d'informations et de litterature sur le net. A Saint Petersburg nous avons rencontre Sacha qui ne voulait pas voyager, et a Ulan Ude une dame buryat qui revenait juste de donner une conference en Irlande.
Alors que notre sejour a commence par de l'enervement et des frustrations repetees dans la capitale, la Siberie est une immense region dont il est facile de tomber amoureux.
Pour ses paysages infinis, sa lumiere, mais surtout ses habitants. J'adorerais y retourner en hivers, quand tout est recouvert de neige et qu'il fait -40 degres...
Il va nous falloir du temps pour digerer l'experience. Nous en sommes encore a machouiller la Turquie.

Quelques images du lac Baikal

from Russia with haste

2005-07-30T14:16:00.000-01:00

Hello all.

We are on a real whistle stop tour of the world at the moment. 10 days in Armenia and 7 days in Georgia was hardly enough, and even three weeks in Turkey only took in a fraction of the sights.

Armenia is a great little country, although like all of its immediate neoghbours (Azerbaijan, Georgia) it is suffering still from recent conflicts - especially over Ngorno Karabagh. Somewhere we didnt go as it happens but is apparently very much open for business - tourist business that is...
Tatev down south - near Sisian - where we were adopted by Katherine a Peace Corp Volunteer in Armenia for the past three years. She his heading back to the states this month. She took us in and we went sight seeing with herself and her niece Kate - and she even made us a packed lunch to take on the Marshutka. We met on the road by a market stall in Sisian - her opening line an accussative 'Where are you from?' They dont get many people from outside in the South of Armenia. The tourist industry try to encourage people to do Armenia in day trips from Yerevan which is a pity but understandable - as the infrastructure just isnt there yet. The roads are a disaster. We had a great couple of days.

Top marks for Hosts with the most are the Stepanyan family in Yerevan - whose great home is being slowly eroded by hundreds of guests trooping through the living room. It is a problem with a home stay - where you stay as a guest of a family rather than in a bed and breakfast. You can imagine how a families privacy can slowly be destroyed especially when you have 10 people trooping in and out and constantly changing. Then there are people who arrive and expect it to be a guest house and to be waited on hand and foot. People are interesting indeed. And then there are people who arrive at 11.30 pm and have no where else to go - and they are hosted onthe best bit of the house, on the balcony with a view of Cassiopeaia.

Yerevan is a very cultured town, a brilliant bit of early 20th century town planning, in the process of being brutalised by boorish corporate hotel and office blocks. The number of Hummers, BMW and Mercedes on the streets of Yerevan belie the fact that the country is under an Oil embargo from the Azeris - and have to get everything via Georgia. But something stinks in the way that some people can still drive 3.0 litre mercs, on a planet with oil hitting 60 dollars a barrel and a country that has to import all its oil via one neighbour.

The traffic is fairly crazy - although not as bad as Tbilisi - where the best way to commit suicide is to cross the road. The observance of the rules of the road, or more the total denial of them or any semblance of them apart from a red light is endemic in Georgia and Armenia. In Georgia they add speed to their repetoire - a fact only missing in Armenia I am sure because of fuel shortages.

Tbilisi is a great town. It has all the ingredients of the next great Bohemian town -(Prague etc) if they can get a few people together with a big picture in mind - and if they can reopen the the rail road through Abkhazia which connects it to the rest of the world. But the Georgians are well upset at the Russians still, and any benefit or advantage of being one of the most affluent and successful Soviet Republics has disappeared in a cloud of Nationalistic spite. Shame. CAuse it is all there to happen again - it is just depressing to talk to highly highly educated people in Armenia andGeorgia and they are sure that the only SOlution to their respective problems is through violence.

All I was going to say was that you could get the train from Berlin to Tbilisi not so long ago. And that is all it needs again to reopen the Cacausus to Europe.

Still, I know this is the sort of thing people said about Ireland and the North for the past thirty years. Nothing changes it seems. They are finally disarming I see.

The mountains in Northern Georgia were definetly a highlight, just not enough time for proper camping trip unfortunately. Svaneti is well open for business, although I believe that tour operators in Tbilisi would prefer you to think that it is still a problem so you will avail of their 1000 euro tours. Just jump on a bus and go to a home stay - we didnt make it ourselves, but I will be going back! We toured around Kazbegi with Andrew a geneticist and biologist from Maine (Senator Mitchell country as it happens), Julie a teacher based in Alaska, and Ara from Jerusalem a teacher and secretary to the Israeli Constitutional Think Tank. There were a lot of great conversations. A great travelling crew.

I think for me culturally Yervan was the highlight (I dont think we spent enough time in Tbilisi to know it) and the landscape in Georgia - from the almost tropical Black Sea Coast to the mountains in the north and the rock cut monasterys in Davit Garjela on the Azerbaijan border it is all incredible. Although I have to say that around Tatev in southern Armenia is equally stunning and has to be explored. You just have to come and rough it to find out I think, and give youself at least three weeks for a camping and travelling trip. Best if you have your own jeep too. .... It could be a long time before I can afford to come back!

Right got to go.

Sochi awaits - the Russian Riviera wants my money.

Ahhh Russia. Those Capitalist Pigs!

de Russie, regards vers le Caucase

2005-07-30T13:00:00.000-01:00

Bon, j'espere que ce coup ci ca va marcher...
Hier, a Batumi, en Georgie, j'avais ecrit des lignes et des lignes sur la region. Et le courant a ete coupe.
La Georgie est un pays superbe. A notre avis, Tbilisi sera bientot une des destinations a la mode. Il ne lui manque que l'instauration de vols a bas prix.
La ville est belle, toute de batiments neoclassiques, maisons de bois a balcons sculptes et cordes a linge tendues dans des cours verdoyantes. Avec juste assez d'usure pour la rendre poetique.
La cuisine est fantastique, avec beaucoup de coriandre et d'epices sans etre trop forte. Les paysages sont extremement varies, allant du desert a la steppe a des forets semi tropicales et des montaghes alpestres.
Et les gens... Disons que tous ceux que nous avons rencontres etaient tres amicaux et aidants. D'apres les russes ils ont un tres bon sens de l'humour.
Mais il y a aussi d'autres choses en Georgie, plus difficile, qui ajoutent a l'interet du pays. L'amour immodere de certains pour Staline, ne a Gori d'un cordonier georgien, l'admirations d'autres pour Hitler qui voulait liberer le Caucase du joug russe, le mepris des russes de maniere generale, dont on est content d'etre debarasses.
Il y a des gens tres pauvres, mais je n'ai pas vu beaucoup de misere. Meme si les mendiants sont omnipresents dans les rues.
Quelques jours avant notre arrivee un touriste asiatique s'est fait attaquer et voler ses bagages. Mais il marchait tout seul, la nuit, dans une rue tranquille. Meme en le sachant, il etait difficile de se sentir en danger. De jour, on voit des policiers un peu partout.
L'Armenie est differente. Il est probable que notre experience ait pati de notre sejour en Turquie.
Nous avons tellement aime la Turquie que n'importe quel pays, apres, allais paraitre un peu fade.
Les paysages y sont beaux aussi, sans etre aussi spectaculaires que ceux de Georgie. L'architecture est plus sombre, plus lourde, plus solide. Et le pays se cherche une identite, essaye de se reconstruire (la chute de l'URSS a brise l'economie locale, l'industrie) tout en dependant enormement des armeniens de la diaspora qui reversent des sommes enormes d'argent dand l'economie, la culture, les infrastructures du pays... tout en cherchant a le changer pour le rendre conforme a ce a quoi ils sont habitues aux Etats Unis, en France, en Australie.
Yerevan est une ville attachante surtout a cause de ses musees et beaux batiments officiels du debut du siecle, mais on y sent (peut etre a tors) une culture plus lourde et traditionnelle qu'en Georgie.
Nous ne sommes pas alles en Azerbaijan, mais l'Armenie et la Georgie meritaient vraiment le detour.
Nous sommes a Sochi maintenant, arrives hier en bateau depuis Batumi.
Sochi est la Riviera Russes. Les filles se promenent en shorts moulants, ca sent les vacances, l'argent, la creme solaire.
Demain, train de nuit pour Moscou: 24 heures de trajet...

Tbilisi

2005-07-23T16:54:00.000-01:00

Toujours dans le Caucase.
La Georgie a la reputation d'etre dangereuse, mais saviez vous qu'ils ont recemment vire tous les policiers et les militaires de carriere? Le taux de confiance des citoyens envers la police serait passe de 20% a 70%...
Tbilisi est une ville superbe, une de ces perles d'Europe de l'Est a l'architecture neoclassique de stuc rongee par les intemperies, avec des balcons et des verandas de bois sculpte charges de plantes et de linge.

Hello from Yerevan

2005-07-16T16:39:00.000-01:00

We are in Yerevan, Armenia at the moment and have just heard about the bombings in Kusadasi, Turkey. There was another one while we were still in Turkey on a train bound for (?)Istanbul. And we our heart goes out those who have been affected by these or the bombs in London. Fortunately we weren't in any resorts or on any trains. At the same time it is hard to recommend Turkey enough, particularly south and east - the people are amazingly friendly.

Even if most of them don't know where Ireland is.

It is becoming more common that in the Cartographical Common Knowledge of Turkey and the Cacausus - Ireland has fallen off the edge of the map. Nobody knows where it is.

It is quite a nice thing to be totally anonymous. I mean apart from looking like a total tourist. Obviously I am from planet 'Tourist' and the fact is that the second qustion in the Howareyou-whereareyoufrom-whatisyourname troika of the Turkish Tourist industry is only requisite politeness and doesnt actually mean anything. Well it does. On closer analysis the three questions actually mean - buyacarpet-buyakilim-buyacamel. Please. But to be fair in the SOuth and East of the country it is genuinely no hassle, and a pleasure to actually meet people who like to meet you. At least only to have the excuse for a tea break.

Coming from Turkey East into Georgia and Armenia was like walking back into Europe - albeit Europe in the 1960's (not a bad place to have been, I believe) - from the Middle East. It is a bit disorientating after 2200km of Muslim Turkey - although a very Secular brand of Islam- to arrive smack in the oldest Christian states on the planet.

It is nearly midnight now here and I am knackered - we are travelling south tomorrow and need a good nights sleep.
Hopefully I will get a day infront of this blasted machine to actually write something!

How many hundred days did I wish to be away from it?

Oh by the way Perrine -Solene thought that the town that you are going to do your stage/apprenticeship in was in the south of France, so I think I can forgive most of Eastern Turkey for not knowing where Ireland is. And for the rest of you - should you need to be orientated - Europe is a continent off the coast of Ireland.

It is only a matter of perspective after all.

Erevan

2005-07-16T16:27:00.000-01:00

Armenie nous voila.
Ca faisait tellement d'annees que je revais de venir ici.
Je suppose qu'Aznive Apamian qui s'asseyait a cote de moi en Maths en 4eme et 3eme ne lira jamais ce blog mais c'est un peu a cause d'elle que nous sommes ici. Et de l'eglise armenienne boulevard Rodin a Issy les Moulineaux. Et de films sur le genocides vus quand j'avais 14 ans.
Il fait surtout chaud a Erevan. Il parait que c'est un temps georgien, pas armenien, non non.
Nous voici de retour en terre chretienne et toilettes a l'oxidentale.
Lse filles portent talons hauts et robes legeres, il y a des cafes partout. A Erevan on se croirait en Grece.
Et tout le monde est un artiste. Ou du moins 3 personnes sur 4. En trois jours nous avons rencontre 3 peintres (dont le createur du monument au genocide armenien a Paris), 2 musiciens (violoniste et chanteur d'opera), 2 designers... et deux traducteurs et un ingenieur. La dame qui nous heberge est la petite fille d'un peintre connu ici est les murs de l'appartement sont couverts de tableaux.
L'Armenie est un pays coupe de tout, entoure de deux pays hostiles, la Turquie et l'Azerbaijan.
Elle tend desesperement vers l'Europe, mais pendant des dizaines d'annees voire des siecles l'Europe pour elle passait par la Russie. Maintenant bien sur on entends la meme musique internationale que partout, les gens ont le satellite, CNN diffuse quelques programmes et les armeniens de la diaspora reviennent avec leur identite matinee d'education americaine, russe, francaise, syrienne, et les montagnes d'argent qu'ils reversent dans l'economie du pays.
Demain nous partons pour le sud du pays. D'apres ce qu'on a pu en entrevoir, une toute autre histoire se joue en province avec des maisons envore chauffees a la bouse de vache et des dizaines d'usines fermees depuis la chute du communisme.

Est de l'Anatolie

2005-07-10T16:52:00.000-01:00

Que dire...
La Turquie est un pays extraordinaire...
Trois semaines auront ete trop courtes.
Mais notre visa Russe expire dans 7 semaines et rester coinces sans visa en Russie n'a rien d'attirant.
Nous allons essayer de passer la frontiere georgienne demain sans avoir a payer trop de pots de vin.
La Turquie, donc.
Nous n'en avons explore que le quart Sud Est, et chaque jour voyait un sacrifice, chaque jour nous avons du decider de ne pas aller voir la merveille qui gisait quelques kilometres plus loin, le chateau la haut sur la colline, ou la mosquee du coin de la rue.
Chaque ville meritait une semaine.
Nous sommes a Kars maintenant, tout pres de la frontiere armenienne fermee. Nous avons visite Ani, l'ancienne capitale armenienne, si puissante qu'elle a rivalise avec Constantinople avant que des invasions successives ne la tuent peu a peu. De grandes ruines dans les herbes folles. Une vue superbe sur la steppe alentour, et l'Armenie si proche, de l'autre cote d'une vallee profonde.
Mais Ani est en territoire turc maintenant.
Kars elle meme est une autre ville fascinante, jalonnee de batiments russes et d'enfants blonds ou roux. 80% des femmes ne sont pas voilees, la musique d'ambiance habituelle est americaine beaucoup plus souvent que dans les villes du Sud.
Avant Kars, pour nous, il y a eu Doğubayazıt, perdu dans un paysage volcanique extraordinaire. Du camping ou nous dormions, sur le flanc de la colline du chateau, un orage sur la plaine dechiquetee la faisait ressembler a un plan du Seigneur des Anneaux. Le chateau lui meme etait une petite merveille de decoration sculptee, inspiree de l'art Seljuk at Armenien apparemment.
Il datait du XVIII eme siecle et avait ete detruit par les russes au debut du siecle.
Si en Grece je mentionnais les couches historiques grecques, romaines, franches, italiennes, francaises, turques etc, ici nous sommes en territoire hittite, urarturien, assyrien, seljuk, mongol, armenien, kurde, ottoman, russe...
Et puis il y a autre chose. La Turquie est un pays musulman. Nous nous sommes habitues a l'appel du muezzin, changeant de ville en ville. Aux minarets omnipresents. Aux chauffeurs de bus qui se mettent a prier pendant la pause dejeuner. Mais nous ne savaons toujours rien, vraiment, de l'Islam. Nous avons trouve un livre qui en explique les principes a Göreme mais ne l'avons pas encore commence. Lire demande du temps, et nous n'en avons meme pas assez pour ecrire.
A Şanliurfa nous avons rencontre un jeune syrien etudiant a Ankara. Il etait en voyage avec sa classe de 36. Trente nationalites differentes. Russes, indonesiens, nigeriens, d'Azerbaidjan, de Malaisie, de Malawi... United Colours of Muslims il disait en riant. Nous ne connaissons rien de ce monde.
Oh, et a propos de religion. Abraham serait ne a Şanliurfa, aurait vecu a Harran. Saint Pierre a preche a Silifke. Hier, nous avons passe le Mont Ararat.
En plus des touristes "ordinaires", nous avons croise des groupes d'israeliens et des coreens chretiens chantant des hymnes religieux au sommet de montagnes...
Avant Doğubayazıt nous etions a Van et Tatvan, et avant encore a Hasankeyf, village destine a disparaitre dans quelques annees sous les eaux d'un barrage. Les maisons de pierre et de briques de boue, le pont moyenageux, les logements dans la falaise, le chateau, les restaurants de poisson au bord du tigre... disparus ou transformes en iles. Les relations de la Turquie ne sont bonnes avec aucon de ses voisins. En ce qui concerne les irakiens et les syriens, ca se comprend: la Turquie controle le Tigre et l'Euphrate....

Cappadocia　and Eastern　Turkey

2005-07-10T11:36:00.000-01:00

Capadoce et Sud de l'Anatolie

2005-07-02T18:37:00.000-01:00

Quelques lignes seulement, il se fait tard...
Si en Grece c'est l'histoire qui nous a marques, en Turquie ce sera les gens. Pas un jour ne se passe sans que nous ne rencontrions quelqu'un d'extraordinaire. Aujourd'hui, un jeune homme qui nous a guide dans tout Mardin sans rien demander en echange. Comme des touristes debiles nous lui avons propose un peu d'argent, par habitude. Il a rougi de con fusion et a refuse. Mais un peu plus tard il a change d'avis et comme nous ne comprenions pas il a du insister. J'ai le meme sentiment terrible que quand on vient de casser un objet precieux. Mais je sais que dans un an ou deux, Mardin, qui est superbe, sera pleine de touristes et que tout le monde aura compris qu'il est facile de leur demander de l'argent, pour tout...
Sinon, en revenant en Turqie, nous sommes partis directement pour Göreme en Capadoce. Paysages extraordinaires comme prevu, eglises creusees dans le roc, au fresques abimees a coup de pierres par les paysans locaux, turcs comme grecs. Nous avons fait un detour par Ihlara et sa valee enchantee, au paysage changeant passant de campagne idyllique avec bergers et troupeaux dans l'herbe sous les oliviers a canyon sauvage aux roches rouges pretes a s'effondrer, le tout creuse de plus d'eglises et autres villages souterrains. Nous y avons vu des aigles (!), des pics, dec cigognes noires, des tortues...
A Şanliurfa nous dormions chez une famille kurde, et j'ai passe une journee avec leurs enfants dans leurs maisons de parpaing et torchis au milieu des champs.
Et nous avons parle politique avec le pere...

C'est l'heure du lit!!!

The Saga Contınues....

2005-06-24T17:48:00.000-01:00

I Have been getting alot of stick for promising more news the next day or whenever and not delivering.

I apologise for this and would like to point out that thıngs that happened yesterday are never as ınteresting as things that happened today - generally.

And besides I am busy travelling most days and doıng - stuff - that travellers do and that I dont really have all that much time to sıt down ın front of a computer screen to boast and gloat - (I mean relate and enlighten of course) to you who are most lıkely skiving off or dodging work in order to read these badly typed and totally gramatıcally unchecked ramblings. Long sentences occur often. And I have crınged at some of the typos I have made ın the past - but blogger doesnt have a lıve spell check lıke word - so a lot ıs mıssed when we are typıng agaınst the clock on foreign type keyboards.

We're ın an ınternet place ın Kyrenia\Gırne Northern Cyprus (depending on your persuasion) Just had a splendıd couple of Chıcken and Lamb Kebaps at the Gülen Kebap - fabulous ın thıs revıewers opınıon. We are becomıng offıcıonados at eastern medıteranean street food - Gyros and Kebaps are the busıness. Although there ıs quıte a good selectıon of other...stuff...avaılable. No tourıst menus for us, thank you very much.

I just found the comma on the keyboard. I am hopıng ıt wıll help my sentences a lıttle.

Polıtıcally Cyprus ıs stıll a mess, I dont how else to put ıt. I am sıttıng ın a cafe ın a state that offıcıally does not exıst full of ex pats who have purchased holıday appartments from agents who have buılt on the land of former Greek Cyprıots. As ın there are a faır few people lıvıng on houses on land sold to them by people who dıdnt own ıt ın the fırst place and may have somebody returnıng lookıng for theır land back sooner than later.

At least (and ıt ıs only 'at least') the southerners have kept the Turkısh Cyprıot houses and vıllages for the future return of those refugees. Albeıt the tumble down and ruınous vıllages as they are now double as pıg and goat stalls and farms. Slıghtly ınsultıng I would say.

We crossed the Green Lıne ın Nıcosıa yesterday. There ıs no problem to do ıt now- and ıt ıs well worth doıng, polıtıcal and natıonalıstıc allegıances asıde. Broadly speakıng the North languıshes behınd the south ın terms of development- meanıng that a lot of ıt ıs a lot better preserved (ın terms of context, the fabrıc ıs understandably poor) and some bıg work has been done on revıtalısıng the west of the cıty - the old mercantıle quarter of the Ottomans and prıor to them the Venetıans. The venıtıans buılt the very beautıful and tasteful renaıssance cıty walls - 11 bastıons ın a cırcle gıvıng the cıty ıts Rose symbol. Although as defensıve structures they were patently useless. The far more ımpressıve fortress at Kyrenia\Gırne would have wıthstood a far better batterıng. Unfortunately the Venetıan commander surrendered the whole thıng wıthout fırıng a shot....I cant look at another cıtadel castle or fortress wıthout thınkıng of the frıghtenıng effıcıency of the almost ımpenetrable walls of Rhodes. After that ıt looks lıke anybody could take Nıcosıa on a hobby horse. Oh the knights of St. John were here for a while as well, though the locals got rıd of them after ıt transpıred they would probably be bad for busıness ın the long run.

There ıs really too much to wrıte about Cyprus- and wıthout really really really researchıng everythıng properly and carefully there ıs no way I could get ınto the ıssues. But suffıce ıt to say that we were apalled when we arrıved at the seemıng total lack of development plannıng on eıther sıde of the border and the resultant plague of crap holıday appartments nearly everywhere- most of whıch ın the last few years. Thıs on top of the propaganda fuelled natıonalıstıc bıgotry on both sıdes hung on the back drop of the Ledra Palace Hotel - ıts balconıes festooned wıth Unıted Natıons underwear completıng the surrealıty of an ısland wıth ıts own realıty. In some ways an awful lot was too famılıar and a bıt close to home for me - certaınly ın terms of the polıtıcs. The Local Government scale polıtıcıans dancıng on the world stage.....shame.

Because the people on both sıdes are great. We hıtched from Pafos to Nıcosıa - got three lıfts and made ıt quıcker than the bus. And up here there ıs legendary frıendlıness. And the landscape and sheer amount of wıldlıfe ıs just ıncredıble. If they would stop kıllıng the snakes and buıldıng Holıday appartments on protected habıtat ıt mıght be a bıt better. But stıll. We saw Loggerhead and Green Turtles whıle kayakıng off the coast - we saw a Green (or ıt could be a Loggerhead - the experts certaınly are -Vıcky?Jeroen?) layıng eggs on a beach. Grass snakes-Vıpers-Black Whıp Snakes Coın Snakes Bırd Spıders (Tarantulas to the rest of you) Dıllıdıllis (Longeared hedgehogs endemıc to Cyprus - usually just known as hedgehogs) wıld donkeys (yes-wıld-can you imagıne our surprıse?) an ıncredıble assortment of Bırds but mostly Warblers thanks to Vıcky's phD. Madness. And we had Ben and Jeroen and Vıcky around to remove the mystery of what all these thıngs were. Rollers are the coolest bırd -amazıng colour and they actually roll ın the aır - lıke rollıng a plane over and over.

However they also (well Jeroen dıd) fınally ıdentıfıed the black brown snake we saw at Meteora ın Greece. It was a Legless Lızard ın fact. I have to say I could have done wıthout knowıng that. we saw a massıve black snake ın the under growth sounds a lot better than we saw a legless lızard. However they are apparently very rare and theır bıte ıs very powerful and they probably the longest lızards ın the world. So you'd thınk they'd have a slıghtly more ınterestıng name than somethıng also meanıng 'drunk reptıle'....

On to Turkey tomorrow on the vomıt comet. I lost the cargo on the way over. I dont ıntend to on the wayback.

Oh- and dont hold your breath for me to fıll ın the other blanks (the 'more news tomorrow' thıng). I really only do ıt to keep you all checkıng ın !

Tired of fumbling through all that French?

2005-06-19T19:58:00.000-01:00

I'll be back to write in nearly English tomorrow.....

here's some photos in the meantime.

Turquie et Chypre

2005-06-17T15:36:00.000-01:00

Ca fait Presque cinq jours que nous nous prelassons dans le chant des cigales.
A Rhodes nous avons rencontreee Mary, une amie de Klimis et Christina a qui ils avaient envoye les vetements que nous avions oublies sur la corde a linge.
Elle nous a decrit Rhodes comme une petite ile ou tout le monde se connait, ou les traditions, le role de la famille et la reputation des filles non mariees ont un poids important. Elle a etudie a Athenes pendant six ans, pui, sde facon naturelle, est retournee a Rhodes pour travailler avec son pere… architecte lui aussi… Sa rencontree dans une Rhodes encombree de boutiques et restaurants pour touristes a ete une bouffee d’air frai.
En fait, c’est a Rhodes que nous avons commence a fatiguer. A passer de longues heures a ne pas faire grand chose en face d’un café frappe (Nescafe frappe, s’il vous plait…), a decider que non, nous ne prendrions pas ce bus pour aller visiter cet autre village, la bas. Trop cher, trop loin, trop chaud, pas vraiment envie. Au bout de deux mois et demi sur la route, nous avions besoin de nous arreter un peu. Mais nous ne l’avons pas compris a ce moment. C’est seulement maintenant, une semaine plus tard, que c’est evident. On recharge les batteries.
A Rhodes nous cherchions un moyen pour rallier Chypre directement, sans passer par la Turquie. Vicky, l’amie anglaise qui nous heberge, vit dans la moitie sud de Chypre, et nous n’etions pas surs de pouvoir passer d’une zone a l’autre. Il existait un bateau allant de Rhodes a Chypres, mais le service a ete interrompu il y a trois ans a la suite de problemes de securite en Israel: le bateau faisait aussi escale a Haifa. Vicky prense que ce n’etait pas rentable de toutes facon, et que les evenements du Moyen Orient ne sont qu’une excuse. L’absence de service maritime signifie que Chypre est le seul etat de l’union europeenne accessible uniquement par voie aerienne…
Finalement, Vivky s’est renseignee a l’ambassade britannique. Il est actuellement possible de venir du Nord a condition de repartir par le Nord. C'est tout recent. C ’est ce qu’on a decide de faire (pas le choix…).
Donc de Rhodes nous avons pris le bateau pour Marmaris en Turquie. Autre genre de tourisme. Plage, bars, boites de nuits, restaurants de tous types. Les principaux clients sont britanniques, hollandais… et russes… Les russes sont partout depuis 5 ans.
Ali nous hebergeait a Marmaris, un autre architecte fils d’architecte. Passer du temps avec lui a ete fascinant. En 24 heures nous avons eu droit a un cours sur l’histoire de la Turquie, ses contradictions, sa peur d’etre toujours a l‘ecart, hors du coup, ses relations avec les Etats Unis souvent percus comme tout puissants, sa decision de ne pas participer a la guerre en Irak, s’affirmant pour la premiere fois depuis longtemps comme un pays souverain maitre de son propre sol, les espoirs lies a l’accession possible a l‘Union Europeenne (d’apres Ali, c’est trop tot, la Turquie devrait d’abord regler ses propres problemes au lieu d’esperer que quelqu’un d’autre ne les regle a sa place), le culte de Mustapha Kemal Ataturk dont on commence tout juste a admettre qu’il etait un homme lui aussi, mort trop jeune d’une cirrhose du foie, la transformation radicale de Marmaris en l’espace de 20 ans, passant de petite bourgade a ville entierement dediee au tourisme, les maisons entourees de jardins luxuriant cedant les unes après les autres et se transformant en blocs de beton de cinq etages…
A Marmaris, il est facile d’oublier le paysage, et pourtant... Autour de l’horreur urbaine, les montagnes couvertes de pins sont splendides et la mer est turquoise.

Nous devions arriver rapidement a Chypre. Vicky et ses amis Jorun et Ben allaient passer un weekend dans le Nord, esperant voir des tortues pondre des oeufs. En 15 heures de bus, nous etions a Silifke. Vers quatre heure de matin, nous nous sommes reveilles en Capadoce, dans un paysage surreel sculpte, contourne. Au reveil nous arrivions pres de la mer, et j’ai toujours l’impression d’avoir reve.
Deux jours a Tasucu et Silifke, profitant de la tranquilite des lieus, et nous avons embarque pour notre pire voyage jusqu’a present. En deux heures de traversee la moitie des passagers, y compris Kevin, etaient verts et vomissaient plus ou moins discretement dans les sacs en plastique noirs fournis par l’equipage.
Les trois mousquetaires nous attendaient a la sortie de la douane et nous sommes parties directement pour l’extreme Est de l’ile, vers les cabanes sur piloti dans lesquelles nous allions dormir.

Apres juste quelques jours de Turquie, Chypre choque. Ou est passée la gentillesse des habitants? Pour qui sont ces villas “de luxe” qui poussent comme des champignons en groupe de trente au milieu de nulle part? Pourquoi les prix sont-ils si eleves (la monnaie du Nord est la lire turque, mais les prix sont multiplies par deux)?
Nous n’avons pas vu de tortues. La Lune n’etait pas assez pleine. Mais nous avons vu plein de herissons a longues oreilles, un lievre, des chouettes, des anes sauvages en pagaille et meme une tarentule. De l’avantage de voyager avec des zoologues…
Le passage de la frontiere s’est fait sans encombres, esperons que ce soit aussi facile au retour. En fait, on dirait que les controles ne sont effectues que par les douaniers du Nord, donc ca devrait aller.
Depuis, nous nous laissons guider. Le village ou nos hotes vivent est perdu en haut d’une montagne, donc sans voiture nous sommes un peu coinces. Le matin nous partons avec Vicky et Jorun (Ben est maintenant reparti pour Cambridge) qui nous deposent en chemin, ou nous les accompagnions sur le terrain. C’est ainsi que sans effort nous avons visite des tombes creusees a meme le roc par dizaines en caveaux superbes il y a 2500 ans, vu les mosaiques extraordinaires de trois villas romaines de bord de mer, et observe des oisillons se faire poser des bagues autour des pattes. Un peu de tout, beaucoup de plaisir… Lever vers six heures du matin quand meme. Ca c’est dur! Mais ca vaut le coup. Demain, samedi, grasse matinee… youpi…

Rhodes

2005-06-05T13:47:00.000-01:00

Une autre plongee dans l'univers des chevaliers de Saint Jean (oui oui, les memes qu'a Maltes)...
ici, apres une Amorgos sauvage, faite de montagnes et de villages abandonnees, nous retrouvons les touristes, les restaurants hors de prix... et une ville superbe, encore medievale.

Naxos, Cyclades Islands, Creece

2005-06-02T08:54:00.000-01:00

Sitting in an internet Cafe in Naxos, home of Mount Zas, birth place of Zeus and nearly nextdoor to the island of Delos, birthplace of Apollo. But they are all living over in Olympia now.

Athens was quite intense in fact. We spent the a good week there but more than half our time was left sorting out where the embassies and then the consulates of the Georgian, Armenian, and Russians' were. We had planned Athens as a base for sorting out all of this stuff. We rang the Turkish Embassy as well, although only Irish people need a visa to go to Turkey, (Not quite true), but Solene doesnt need one. So, I could buy one in Athens> Yes no problem, How much?>60 euro, >How much is it if I buyt it at the border?> 10 euro. Hmmmm......

we still have to sus out exactly the issues of travelling North to South in Cyprus might be...

Monday was spent locating the emabssies, Tuesday got us to the Russian Consulate where a lady at the gate helped interpret our requirements to the secretary the other side, whos face dropped on seeing the passports - Irski? Fanski? he said disbelievingly. He let us in then, but even at that stage I just thought he was letting us through on novelty value alone! It was the first experience of really where English just is not going to work....

Una reddington is a hero and champion of organisation, if it weren't for you Una (and Eoin) we'd still be outside the embassy in Athens. It went swimmingly. We just dropped off the passports and we were to collect them next day. we went and picked up the forms at the Georgian and Armenian embassies after.

It took more or less a day to sort out each of the visas. Each trip to the Consulates an intriguing taster of the countries. The Lebanese assistant (of Armenian descent apparently) at the Armenian Consulate was a charmer. She had worked with an Irish guy in Beirut years ago, and thought he was magic. Although her boss was also Irish there, and she had less to say about him... The Armenian Consul was also sound. It was a dream of his to work/live in Paris. He only ever stopped off there, CDG for a couple of hours. I couldn't help thinking that the last King of Armenia in the 13th century had died in Paris after travelling through all the courts of Europe looking for some help and warning against the Mongols who were arriving in Armenia and present day Georgia at the time. He got no help and Armenia, and most of the Cacausus were over run by the Mongols who subsequently looted and plundered as far as Hungary and to the Outskirts of Vienna. It was only the death of their Khan that stopped their advance.

We met Anna outside of the Armenian consulate on the stairwell (the Armenian foyer was even smaller than the Georgian's) , while we were filling in our forms. When she learned we were going to Georgia, she insisited on giving us her Georgian Mobile number, despite the fact she didnt speak a word of English, and we didnt speak a work of Georgian or Greek...

Georgia is a fairily straight up place by the look of it. In the foyer the size of a small bedroom 10 or so people stood, waited and shuttled variously between the three offices off of it, one being the Consuls. If the door is closed, you should open it to make sure there is a good reason for it being closed. So at the risk of not getting anywhere we started opening doors randomly, and it worked in the end, the Consul inviting us in, having a chat in English, and asking why were we going to Georgia, Sol said Tourism, I said Wine. His eyes lit up and he spent the next five minutes rummaging through his office for a bottle of wine (or maybe it was a book on Georgian Wine, I was hoping for the former though) but didn't manage to find it. Asked what we did for a living he was enthusiastic on hearing we were architects, saying that Georgia was a great place for architecture. For a millisecong I though he meant that there was lots of work for architects, but he merely meant the 'already built' type of architecture....

He took our passports told us to go to the bank and pay direct to the Consulate account, for which we had to pay the bastard bank 1.50 for the pleasure, nipped back and waited another 30 minutes in the lobby with 10 people waiting at the consuls door. If you are told to close the door, you can close it and then let it open again just slightly enough so that you can see in, and make sure that he is doing work. this is at least what I learnt from a young Georgian bloke standing head of the que, waiting for a new passport....

The rest of Athens was all classical Ruins and Museum epics. All the national museums close at three in the afternoon in the low season which is a pain.

One of my favourite was the Benaki museums, which is a private musuem with a collection of objects from prehistory and neolithic times to pretty much the present day Greece. The objective of the museum is to track the changes and developments of Greek/Hellenisitc art and craft since, well, the start. It is an amazing collection of stuff. My particular favourite Egyptian woven fabrics and paintings(Lincuil in french, used for covering the body after death) from 500 AD. They are apparently quite common, but I hadn't seen a piece of fabric surviving so perfectly (colours intact) for so long. It was pointed out that the Egyptian burial traditions, the Greek development of Painting and the Roman mastery of Portrait were perfectly melded her. I dont know how 'true' that is, but they are remarkable things anyway.

But for me, the museum didn't answer the big question. If you look at (and they have in the museum) coins spanning the time from say Constantine - the first Holy Roman Emperor (306-337 AD) up until the Byzantine Emperors (around the tenth century AD), the heads on the coins go gradually from perfect portraits to something looking like a couple of courgettes and a tomato with assorted grapes. How can you loose that skill so easily? Generation by generation the coins deteriorate. Right up until the Renaissance, when the best complement an artist could get was 'as good as the ancients'. It's no surprise that the some Roman Sewers in Rome are still functioning perfectly today. And all this from a tribe that didnt even have coins in the early days. (Not until relatively quite late - after the conquest of the Etruscans and Sicilians (Magna Greacia) -did the Romans start minting coins apparently.

The museums costumes from the islands and general collection of fabrics are incredible. I would never hanve thought that they would interesting, but, I now know all about the Dodecanese Raised Stitch.....

Not surprisingly after 6 hours in a place like that we were museumed out. So we just chilled out and wandered around Athens, the Kolonaki and the Plaka and the like for the next day or so, before heading south to Syros and the islands.

Greece, it must be said, has gotten to be a totally trendy place. Even Lamia had classy cafe joints with Sofas on the street terraces, and prices to reflect it too. But the food is still great and cheap.

we have to go now, the Ferry leaves in an hour. I will add some more soon.....

Naxos et les iles grecques

2005-06-02T08:40:00.000-01:00

Mer turquoise, maisons blanches, bougainvillees, ciel azur... tout y est...
De Syros a Mykonos a Naxos, en dehors de touristes blonds et bronzes aux accents venus des 4 coins du monde occidental (je n'aurais jamais cru entendre autant d'accents americains en Grece), le fait le plus frappant est notre totale ignorance de l'histoire europeenne. Les iles grecques etant placees a un point strategique entre Est et Ouest, elles ont subi vague apres vague d'envahisseurs, on vu s'eveiller et s'ecrouler des civilisations. La civilisation cycladique, qui a laisse ces statuettes etranges aux bras croises, les Minoens, les Miceniens, les Grecs, les Ottomans, les Francs, les Venitiens et les Genois, les Turcs, les Britanniques et les Francais. Tous sont venus, ou ont grandi sur ces bouts de rochers, ont construit des palais, des tours, des temples, laisse des bouts de poterie un peu partout, puis sont partis.
Auhourd'hui, il en reste des bout de marbre esseules dresses dans les champs, des linteaux de portes curieusement antiques, des toits plats aux angles decores de mini tourelles, et des population catholiques et orthodoxes qui ont du mal a coexister.
Pour ceux d'entre vous qui se demandent qui sont les francs, et qui parlent anglais, voila la reponse:
http://www.nationmaster.com/encyclopedia/Frankish
En fait, il faut distinguer les Francs, peuple germanique ayant construit un empire (de Clovis a Charlemagne), et le terme Franc (Frankish en anglais) qui en est venu a qualifier les europeens unis pour partir en Croisade au XII eme siecle.
Voila le genre de choses qu'on apprend en allant apsser des vacances sur les plages ensoleillees de la Mediterranee...

Athenes

2005-05-27T17:57:00.000-01:00

On m’avait parle d’une ville polluée, bruyante aux monuments superbes rongés par les pluies acides. En fait, la ville a subi un lifting pour les jeux olympiques. Certaines des avenues les plus passantes, au pied de l’Acropole, sont devenues piétonnières. Le soir, elles sont bordées de vendeurs de livres de toutes sortes.
Ca fait une semaine que nous sommes arrivés. Nous sommes hébergés par des amis de Kevin qui vivent dans un très bel appartement dans le Kolonaki, le XVIeme d’Athènes. En une semaine, nous avons beaucoup marché, erré dans des musées incroyables (le musée Benaki en particulier, aux collections de costumes traditionnels a n’en plus finir), vu du marbre de toutes les couleurs et… fait la queue dans des consulats. Nous devions nous occuper des visas arménien et russe en particulier. Arménien parce qu’il est or de question de l’obtenir en Turquie, et russe parce qu’une autre amie de Kevin (cet homme a des amis bien placés) travaillant dans une ambassade a Moscou s’était arrangée pour nous faire envoyer une invitation par l’ambassade d’Irlande.
L’ambassade de Russie est un bâtiment classique protégé par des grilles ou l’on entre selon le bon vouloir de deux gardiens nonchalants en lunettes de soleil et chemise entrouverte. Il y a un guichet pour chaque opération, l’ambiance est studieuse et fébrile. Le personnel ne parlant pas anglais, nous communiquions par gestes, en silence. Au bout de quelques minutes de gesticulations de Kevin au guichet, une jeune femme blonde au demi sourire est arrivée pour nous dire que « tout va bien avec votre visa, il n’y avait pas de problème pour vous ». Et elle a tourné les talons. Le lendemain, les visas étaient la comme promis, nos passeports remis en silence par une Natacha ne parlant toujours pas anglais. Et nous voilà dehors. Tout simplement. On n’en revient toujours pas.
Le consulat de Georgie était d’un tout autre genre. Un appartement poussiéreux au premier étage d’un immeuble, plein de gens entrant et sortant à tout moment du bureau de jeune (et charmant) consul. 15 euros, fait en deux heures. Bientôt les européens n’auront plus besoin de visa pour la Georgie. Le consul était ravi de nous voir. On a même cru qu’il allait nous offrir du vin quand Kevin a mentionné les vignobles géorgiens, mais la bouteille avait disparu.
Le consulat d’Arménie était du même type, en un peu plus organise. Une charmante dame libanaise était à l’accueil, de plus en plus chaleureuse à chaque fois que nous revenions. Elle n’avait été qu’une fois en Arménie, mais disait que là-bas les gens étaient adorables, et que tout avait un goût différent…
Le consul était jeune, chauve, portant lunettes et doté d’un sourire d’enfant. « J’ai toujours rêvé de visiter la France… J’espère que vous aimerez l’Arménie… Bon voyage ! ». Pour le coup, c’était 85 euros et une journée d’attente.
Je suppose que c’est le vrai début de notre voyage. Des consulats, nous allons en voir beaucoup dans les mois à venir….

Demain nous partons pour les îles. Et après, à nous la Turquie…

Solène

Volos, Greece

2005-05-18T13:59:00.000-01:00

Please cut and paste Solene's post and stick it in a Google translator. No...

the Italian Job is over, we were chased from Malta through Sicily all the way to Bari by one or other religious feast invariably involvong marching bands, 20 local lads straining the gut carrying a 3m tall solid wood and silver religious effigy, and celebrants who speak too long whilst the aformentioned lads go from one shade of puce to another.

The best and most incredible was in Bari though, where in Saint Nicholas Cathedral (Magnificent Italian/Norman romanesque cathedral, no more baroque please), the venerated bones of Santa Claus himself lie in the crypt. Apparently up until 800 or more years ago he was happily lying in some part of western Turkey until a couple of Local Lads from Bari (no doubt the ancestors of the aformentioned purple coloured bearers) snatched them in a daring grave robbing incident.

So they celebrate it by building this fabulous crypt and wonderful shrine. It was a bit wierd, worshipping stolen goods. Anyway, its a popular church for weddings, and the crypt is dedicated for use by the Russian Orthodox Church, for whom Saint Nicholas (and all Orthodox Christian religions) has a special place in their creed.

The thing was, that there was a wedding going on in the cathedral, while the Lads (in this case the police force and fire brigade etc) were arriving on the piazza outside complete with Saint Nicholas' 3 tonne effigy escorted by the obligitory marching band and pealing bells which were complemented by the sirens of all police cars in the city (which were all in the piazza of course, I actually saw Customs officers on the beat earlier that day). And as if that wasnt enough, there was a full on Russian Orthodox veneration of Nicholas downstairs in the crypt belting out fantastic choral stuff.

Well of course it was all going to come together at some point. The lads danced the statue around the piazza a few times to the band, while the Russians came out of the crypt in full voice, marched straight through the cathedral (ie the wedding) and arrived on the piazza just in time for the police sirens etc.

then Saint Nick went inside, and the wedding was postponed (bride and groom shunted to one side in disbelief, and all in laws and guests as well) as the whole of Bari Vechhia filed in to the magnificent Cathedral, to give praise to Nicholas, the Police and Fire Brigade, and not to mention their Russian friends who had followed Nicholas back into the Cathedral, the primate of the Russian Church blessing everyone at random on the way in followed by the cloaked and bearded priests and younger curates. It was only a matter of time until they broke into another Orthodox song. Bride and Groom, and families and friends, were left shrugging and pouting in that 'you know what can you do' way, as if if was normalish.

I dont know if there were any later recriminations about the Bride being a little too late but it all worked out in the end. the Bride and Groom had their photo taken with a freshly venerated Saint Nicholas, and the marching band had hung around outside on the Piazza to ambush them on the way out with a rendition of 'Volare'. So alls well that ends well.

And we were on our way-

so we have travesed the Adriatic from Bari to Igoumenista, on to Ioannina home of legendary brigand Ali Pasha (more weddings, Greek Style,) on to Kalambaka and Meteora home of the Monasteries on top of those 600m high rocks. I think they used one in one of the addidas/nike/puma football ads recently.

Spectacular places themsleves, but rambling down below them along the myriad of ancient mule tracks is as good. Snakes, tortoises, mental lizards who tend to jump in front of you rather than away... lot of walking in the midday sun as you probably gathered.

The Pindus mountains, Metsovo and the Katara Pass are spectacular, but we didnt manage to get up as far as the Vikos Gorge, north of Ioannina (pronounced Yanana, by the way), next time I hope.

On for a bit of exploration around the Pilio peninsula before bracing ourselves for Delphi. Looking forward to getting to Turkey, and a bit of time gathering ourselves in Athens-

til next time with more -

Volos, Grece

2005-05-18T13:46:00.000-01:00

La Grece apres l'Italie...
Apres une journee folle a Bari ou nous avons assiste simultanement a un mariage catholique, une adoration de la statue de Saint Nicolas avec procession et fanfarre et une celebration russe othoxe... dans la meme eglise (la mariee n'etait pas contente), nous avons pris le ferry pour la Grece. Changement de decor, soleil de plomb, barrage de la langue.

Mais sourire toujours present.
Nous avons passe un jour a Metsovo, dans les montagnes, avec vue sur des pics enneiges et des toits de lauzes, puis direction les Meteores, monasteres perches sur des rochers. Apres deux jours de grimpette, nous partons avec de jolis souvenirs: des eglises peintes a fresque aux personnages severes, les loukoums du monastere de la Sainte Trinite, les tortues et les serpents sur le bord du sentier, des hirondelles folles, des amandiers, oliviers, des jardins de rosiers, de la viande grillee le soir et du yaourt au miel...

D'ici quelques jours nous devrions descendre sur Delphes puis sur Athenes.
Voila, c'est tout pour aujourd'hui...

Lipari

2005-05-12T13:23:00.000-01:00

Apres trois jours dans une Palerme survoltee, nous voici dans les iles eoliennes. Volcans, bains de boue ( on sent encore le souffre), soleil de plomb... Genial!

And if you cant understand french we are in the quiet Aeolian islands after a noisy sojourn in Palermo and we are surrounded by volcanoes, thermal springs and we still stink of sulphur after taking the waters...onour way to Stromboli to see some real lava tomorrow night....

a la prochaine

Taormina

2005-05-12T13:20:00.000-01:00

Ville perchee au sommet d'un rocher, avec theatre grec avec vue sur le mont Etna.
Nous sommes alles voir le Stromboli avant hier. Jets de lave, fumee, deux heures de grimpette heureuse et de descente dans la cendre au sein d'un groupe de 20 personnes dont 2 hollandais a moitie fous et un guide version instructeur de l'armee americaine.
Superbe, tout simplement. Du haut d'une ile, l'horizon courbe rend la Terre toute petite. Et quand elle gronde a vos pieds comme ca...

Images de Malte

2005-05-05T17:35:00.000-01:00

Magic Malta

2005-05-02T21:43:00.000-01:00

So here we are in wonderful Malta, the island off the coast of everywhere else. It is a completely unique place, one of the most densely populated places on the planet, with an almost arabic/north african feel to the language and alleyed towns outside of Valletta, yet still an absoutely baroque and catholic country. I suppose I am a bit biased in my love of Malta, as I worked here on an IAESTE program for BCS back in 1996.....lots of great memories.
http://www.mapquest.com/maps/map.adp?formtype=address&searchtype=address&country=MT&addtohistory=&city=

We've been to Paris, Strasbourg, Marseille, Corsica, Rome, Napoli, Salerno/Amalfi Coast, Sicily/Siracusa and now Malta. So we have more than a few blanks to fill in...

I am going to start from here and work backwards (and forwards) with the blog as things can be funnier when they are fresher! I'll be using Fragrant Vagrants for general observations and happenings, and using the 'Vague Rants' blog for little nuggets of detail on people and thoughts and happenings.

Anyway, Malta has to be one of the friendliest places on the planet. We are lucky of course that we are being hosted with old friends of mine. They also happened to be getting married last weekend and we were allowed to witness the event - which was pretty incredible.

The wedding was in fort St. Angelo near Vittoriosa, one of the Three Cities east of the Grand Harbour overlooked by Valletta. (Valletta is a Baroque City and a World heritage site, one of the earliest examples of urban planning when layed out by the Knights of St.John in the late 16th Century as a celebration of the defeat of the Ottoman Turks). Fort St. Angelo is actually owned by the Knights of St. John, and as such it has its own autonomy within Malta (something between an embassy or ambassadorial residence, and the UN in NY) and is run and maintained by the Knights. I wasn't aware that there were Knights active still, or even that you could still be invested a Knight -as far as I know the title is not heridetary and Chastity (celibacy) is a requirement of the order. You maybe invited to be a Knight after years of being a friend to the Order (everyone I think knows the Order Of Malta Ambulance Corps etc.). So if anyone is interested in becoming a knight, there is another way..... the picture on the left below is from Valletta, the day before the wedding, you can make out the Marquee on top of the Fort.

There were about 550 people at the wedding, which is quite normal for a wedding in Malta, there was 600 invites, so it was quite a good turnout. Mat surprised and delighted all by crooning his way through 'Just the Two of Us' with a Jazz band backing group and then continued as MC for the next two hours. I believe he could turn his hand to being a presenter on Italian TV, no problem. Ingrid battled through the 550 odd greetings with an unshakeable smile. We met a great crew of people, many sons and daughters of Maltese emigrants come home from Germany and Australia and the States. Certainly things are booming in Malta at the moment. But there are a fair amount of immigrants here too, Austria, States, China, Belarus, Yugoslavia, which must be pretty tough breaking into the village life of a small island...

The food was great, (Mats cousins were catering) the booze was fantastic, the DJs were excellent (Chris, the best man, no speeches!) and the only person I met that I didn't like at the wedding was someone who mistook me for a waiter....

things are chaging pretty quickly over here. Years of tradition are being pushed aside and the new international is arriving. It is all getting shaken up.
Mat and Ingrid's wedding cake is a nice example of the new and the old. Mat is one of the younger designers pushing the Maltese Design envelope....(Ill tell you more about M&I's amazing house in Vague rants) The Cake Created by Mat's catering cousins, the cake was a minimalist masterpiece - all the more impressive in a country where the Baroque style hasn't quite worn off (check out the buses). There was serious concern among the caterers that people would think that the cake hadn't been finished yet, not without the prerequisite Bride and Groom on top and loads of inticate filigree lace type icing.......

Anyway, we spent the last week recovering from finishing the various leftovers from the wedding, including the open bottles left from the bar, (Mats Negroni mix is great - 1/3 gin, 1/3 Campari, 1/3 Martini Rosso and a splash of tonic, magic....) and treking aroung Malta and Gozo. First evening (after washing the car three tims to get the egg and shaving foam off it) we walked up to Laterno Cross to take in the view - next day it was Clapham Junction and Dingli cliff and on over to Mgarr (im-jarr). Clapham junction is a place where the are cart ruts ( of indeterminable age) just randomly traced accross the rock at the top of Dingli cliffs. there are prehistoric graves and other bits and pieces around. We proceeded driving around the island checking out some excellent coves and headlands, and generally just ambling around. I liked , Gnejna Bay, west of Malta...Solene had a go at another watercolour, not so successful.

While we were there, a truck carrying a skip arrived, and lowered it into the water off the rocks. The skip seem to be entirely filled with concrete yet floated reasonably well, the top staying about 15cm off the water with 4 people and an out-board motor on board. Then one of the chaps lit up the motor and headed out of into the bay. I have no idea what they were up to....but it is quite a creative boat I have to say.... no photos sorry.... And I am totally serious.

We headed back to get lost in the middle of Malta again, almost inevitable as they are redoing the main roads of the island with european money (long needed repairs), but it is the equivalent of closing the M50 around Dublin for a year completely, or the M25 from Bristol to Bath...

We went off to Gozo overnight thursday friday, and had an amazing walk from Victoria (smack in the middle of the island) out to Marsalforn in the north and then west to Hekka Point, along the cliffs and Salt Pans to what will be forever know as Hunters paradise. The Maltese, and the Gozitans in particular I fear love shooting. Anything that moves by the look of it. Not many Clay Pigeon places here...It is definetly an article for the vague rants page, but just imagine an English garden allotment with a gun emplacement (or tower in some cases) at one end, and you begin to get the picture....Anyway, we managed to stumble out of here with vague recollections of our Corsican Maquis adventure (coming soon) and on down to Fungus Rock, the Inland sea and Azure window all at Dwerja Point - hitched back with an Australian couple and made it back to Malta in time for a Rabbit Dinner. Fenkata - delicious. A must have if you are here, the national dish. Although Horse is very popular as well if you fancy....

Anyway, we went picnicking in Buskett (lit. Little Woods)yesterday, and it feels like a Monday morning today. we've been winding down from Party all last week, and now Mat and Ingrid are back in work and we're planning departures.

Til the next post (i'll make them shorter, promise...)

K

from Strasbourg to...

2005-05-01T21:15:00.000-01:00

Hello,
well, it took us a while but here you are.
A blog is born.
We left almost six weeks ago already, when we hopped in the train to Strasbourg.
Since then we have been through Strasbourg, Marseille, Corsica, Rome, Naples, Salerno, Siracusa, and we are now in Malta.
The highlight so far, as long as I am concerned, was Corsica. The most amazing thing about it was the ever changing landscape. You drive for 15 minutes, negociate a hairpin of the road, and you are in a different world. To my delight, the country is also covered in semi wild pigs, goats, cows and so on. Enough to make the road interesting, if the landscape wasn't there already to make you go ohhh every five minutes.
We are in Malta right now, a country of yellow stone, loud fireworks and genuine smiles.

de Strasbourg a Marseille

2005-05-01T18:17:00.000-01:00

Je sais, je sais, il est un peu tard... Notre voyage a commence officiellement le 21 mars 2005, quand nous sommes montes dans le train pour Strasbourg. Ca fait presque six semaines, et depuis six semaines, on essaye de mettre ce blogue en place.
Pour l'instant, il est encore a l'etat de brouillon. Nous avons decide d'ecrire dans nos deux langues, anglais et francais, mais sans necessairement tout traduire. Au gres de nos humeurs.
J'espere que vous pardonnerez le manque d'accents etc (clavier anglo saxon, je n'y peut rien), et les fautes d'orthographe et de grammaire. Deux ans a parler anglais tous les jours, et ma langue maternelle se delite...

Strasbourg donc.
En fait, on a bien failli ne pas partir: pas de loco. Moi qui vante sans arret les merites des trains francais...
Strasbourg a ete un debut de voyage parfait. Retrouver de vieux amis: Manu, Barbara, Jakub, Guillaume, Diane, plus revus depuis presque trois ans, mediter dans la Cathedrale, cette Grande Dame inoubliable, marcher le long des canaus, faire decouvrir la biere alsacienne a Kevin (la biere de mars, surout: les biere francaises ont la reputation d'etre imbuvables), aller ecouter le chant d'amour des cigognes dans le parc de l'Orangerie. Kevin a aime, j'ai adore.
Retourner dans la ville ou on a etudie, passe cinq annees a se decouvrir, a devenir "adulte", a se sentir libre, a decouvrir ce que c'est que la seduction, l'amitie, la confiance, une gueule de bois, la litterature partagee... je n'ai pas tant change, en fait. J'ai passe mon diplome il y a presque quatre ans, et meme si il est tentant de dire "deja!", je sais que ma vie a ete bien remplie depuis.
Strasbourg elle a change, un peu. Le squelette est la, les bars familiers, les rues, les odeurs, mais les boutiques ont change. Tout a monte d'un cran. Tati, Kiloshop ont disparu, les magasins de luxe sont arrives.

De Strasbourg, nous avons pris le train de nuit pour Marseille.
Voyage sans histoire si on oublie le cycliste qui refusait de demonter son velo et le couple qui avait pris nos couchettes en deplacant nos sacs deja installes ("le controleur nous a dit de venir dans ce vagon, alors...").
Nos hotes a Marseille etait une famille contactee sur couchsurfing.com. Manfred, Gabrielle et Elsa. Gabrielle etait absente pour une semaine, mais Manfred nous a accueillis a bras ouverts.
Marseille est une ville superbe, meme si Kevin parle encore des crottes de chien qui rendent ses trottoirs perilleux. Mes vagues souvenirs de la cite phoceenne (datant de mes douze ans) etaient gris et poussiereux, si l'on excepte les yeux bleus d'un charmant jeune homme et les pierres rouges du Chateau d'If. Marseille est en fait une autre ville rose, avec une de ces pierres aux nuances douce que nous retrouvons depuis un peu partout. Des parcs, la mer, une population variee qui venait comme un souffle d'air frais apres deux ans dans une Bath monochrome, des marches en plein air, des bateaux, des vues superbes des que l'on monte un peu.

Nous avons reussi a passer une soiree avec marc et Clothilde, des amis de Strasbourg retournes dans leur Marseille d'origine.
Le deuxieme jours, Manfred nous a emmenes dans les Calanques, avec un detour par l'Unite de'habitation de le Corbusier. Nous avons eu droit a nos premiers vrais rayons de soleil!

Le lendemain, ferry pour Ajaccio. Ou du moins, c'etait le plan. On n'etais pas au courrant du changement d'heure. Du coup, on est restes un jour de plus et avons pris le bateau pour Bastia.

Et la.... la Corse...
On nous avait prevenus pourtant.
L'endroit est incroyablement beau, le paysage changeant d'un versant de montagne a un autre, d'un virage a la prochaine ligne droite... en arriere plan la mer et de la neige au passage des cols, des chenes lieges, des citroniers des amandiers, une architecture 20 fois differentes. Sans compter le Saucisson, la Soupe, les animaux en semi liberte marchant au milieu de la route.
Et l'accueil des gens. peut etre parce qu'on etait la hors saison, apparemment l'ete c'est l'enfer, mais des notre arrivee nous avons eu droit a de longs discous sur le passe et l'avenir du pays, le tourismes, la corsitude etc.
Sandrine nous hebergeait, que nous avons rencontree sur Hospitality Club, et des le deuxieme jours elle nous laissait les clefs de la voiture... Internet est une grande chose! Nous allons de rencontre en rencontre.

Apres la Corse, Rome et les funerailles du pape en compagnie de deux millions de polonais, puis Naples dans l'univers cosy de 'auberge "Six small rooms" ou parmis les autes pensionnaires on comptait 4 ecrivains, un philosophe, un acteur, un jusriste et deux economistes... Il y a des jours ou on se demande si on ne vit pas dans un monde parallele...

Puis Salerno, heberges par Gianluca-le-meilleur-cuisinier-du-monde et son chat Hibou, en enfin Syracuse la belle, et Malte.

En six semaines nous avons visite deux villes romaines fantomes, Pompei et Ostia Antica, vu des bouts de marbre a n'en plus finir a Rome, des bout de fronton, un amphitheate et des souterrains grecs a Naples, des temples grecs a Paestum et un autre habilement deguise en eglise a Syracuse... un autre amphitheatre, plus de temples encore ailleurs. Depuis rome, tout est a la mode antique. Parlez moi des arenes de Lutece...!

Images of Corsica

2005-04-10T22:44:00.000-01:00

Some photos from Corsica, left to right, amazing mountains in the interior travelling from Aleria to Corte, Mountains further North between San Nicolao and Porto, Sandrine's Panda in its natural surroundings and finally the Hostess with the mostess, Sandrine at the pebble beach in Porto.