Nick’s world tour

Well, that is, as they say, that…

I’ve eaten 13 airline meals on 16 flights with 8 airlines over some 31,500 miles, that’s about 61 hours cramped into a seat at 39,000ft. 16 airports have been the gateway or transit points to the 10 countries I’ve visited: and only one country had immigration officials that seemed genuinely pleased to see me (Malaysia).

Tuktuks, elephants, horses, rickshaws, bikes, buses and coaches of varying disrepair, cars, motorbikes, boats and more have taken me at least 18,360miles by road and 1,050miles by sea to 15 islands.

The highest point I’ve climbed to was 4,500m above sea level, and been down to the shallows of 18m below sea level, and done lots of crazy stuff in between. Over 10,800 people have read about it all on here. Many have found the page by searching on Google, some came from (bizarrely) a German snowboarding webpage and 257 people read the page where I slagged off Vientiane (Laos’ capital city) because some local flagged my page on their website:

http://www.212cafe.com/freewebboard/view.php?user=laoupdate&id=1264

So add to the useless stats: 1 upset local.

Some of you even bothered to reply to my emails, for which news from home was always nice to hear, though a special mention has to go out to my mate Craig who seemingly doesn’t have much to do at work, and regularly criticised, found innuendo in, and ripped to shreds pretty much every sentence I wrote. Which on average of once a month got me some strange looks as I was laughing uncontrollably in an internet cafe somewhere at the replies.

And the highlights?

To start off, you need to travel, and the best airline to do that with is Singapore Airlines. Though special mention goes to Air Sahara on 3 counts. An inspired name as they fly in India, which is  nowhere near the aforementioned desert. They have the naffest slogan: Emotionally Yours. And on a one hour flight managed to serve a 3 course curry meal to 150 passengers.

I liked pretty much everywhere I went, but that’s sitting on the fence to leave it at that. Once you’re there, the best places to go are: Kashmir and the Himalaya in general, Rajasthan (in low season), the southern Alps (and the rest of South Island) New Zealand, Kanagaroo Island in South Australia, Borneo and the Perhentian Islands in Malaysia, and Fiji. Worst place was Delhi. Favourite country: India, Vietnam, Malaysia, Fiji and New Zealand. And controversially, as everyone else in the world seems to love it, my least favourite was Thailand. Nothing particularly bad about it, but the beaches elsewhere are better and less crowded and there are only so many Buddhas you need to see. I just thought it was a little overrated and for “the land of smiles” the locals not particularly friendly or… smiley.

Need somewhere to put down your head? Try Rockway Cottage, near Old Manali village in HP, North India. 15 minutes along a rocky footpath and you’re in a spot where the snowy hills are the view from your bed, and the only sound is the rushing of the river below you. Just don’t get put off when Jengo the mental dog chases you away. Fathers in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia and Tahan Guest House in Taman Negara – just because they were nice. Beach Shack at Mission Beach in Aus as it was quite, literally, just like staying at your mates house, if they lived on the beach, and similary North Borneo cabin in Kota Kinabalu in Malaysian Borneo for being like a stylish loft apartment. Annies in Alice Springs was just fun, and the place we spent Christmas for the same reason: Backpackers Inn on the Beach In  Byron Bay, though does have the least catchy name. Stafford Gables in Dunedin, NZ, was a lovely old black and white house, and gets special mention for it’s three ghosts. Beachcomber in Fiji is the best place to spend your 27th birthday in my opinion, but Oarsman’s Bay Lodge was the nicest on all the islands. Most bizarre was the room constucted of not much more than saris, at the Ishar Palace in Jaisalmer. The worst places were also in Indian cities and border towns anywhere.

Best view is undoubtedly sunrise from the top of any mountain, or sunset on a tropical beach somewhere, say the South Pacific. My favourite things to do were trekking and climbing every mountain I came across, learning to dive, four wheel driving on a sand island, visiting the jungle in Borneo, and doing absolutely nothing on a string of paradise islands.

Eating and drinking your way around a whole host of local treats is pretty good fun too. The best beer undoubtedly is Beer Laos, and the best food discovered was … all the Asian food I’d not had before, and Momos (Tibetan steamed dumplings with fire inducing Chilli sauce). I got sick of eating mutton in India.

The worst thing I packed was my bag, which started to fall apart in June. The best thing I packed was  the gaffa tape that has been holding it  together since June.
The most honest shopkeeper was the guy who chased four of us across a deserted square (low season and over 40 degrees) in Jaisalmer calling, “please come into my shop and give me a chance to rip you off a little”. Strangest thing I’ve been offered was a monkey on a piece of string on a bus on the way to Agra; I did think of saying yes for a comical moment. Best haircut was by the short man who cut my hair with his eyes closed in some backstreet in Rishikesh.

Not being a linguist, the most I can remember from the various languages is usually hello and thank you. The nicest way to say thank-you is in Laos, Kahp Jai La Lai

From all the things that get shouted at you down the street, you’ll think your name is tuk-tuk, moto (as in the bike), massage.

And the worst things? Getting Delhi belly when it was 46 degrees in the shade, and catching a cold on a tropical island. One of the best things is all the new people you meet, but the worst inevitable consequence of a transient lifestyle is that you are constantly saying goodbye…

So all in all, it’s been a great year, and you know what? I’m not ready to go back either, and if I had a bit more money I could happily stay away for longer. Even though later on today I will be leaving, it still doesn’t feel that it’s all over.

I had been hoping for some inspiration whilst I was away for what I want to do for the next couple of years, but as yet it hasn’t happened. Never mind!

One thing that will be nice is not living from a bag, and seeing some of you again, and hopefully keeping in touch with those I’ve met this year.

As I’ve gone on for long enough, that just about brings this whole thing to a close, so for the time being, it’s all over. But as the bug has bitten, this can never be the last time…

THE END

to be continued…

(Imagine some smooth jazz music playing in the background, or alternatively some awful local pop music might be appropriate….)

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Now onto the final stop of the world tour, a short one hour flight up the west coast from the City of Angels, to the Bay City.

A friendly, laid back, arty city by the sea. Built on endless rollercoaster hills, next to the Pacific. The two major sights are the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz.

Understimating distances and times, I walked an incredibly long way from Downtown, where I was staying on Union Square all the way out the bridge and across it. With a further bit of inspired map reading I saw that there was a ferry back to the city, but didn’t realise it was from the next town, which was a bit further round the coast. Almost running the last two miles, I missed the boat and had to wait for an hour and a bit in Sausisto, a pretty little town full of honeysuckle, and tree lined streets of deli’s and antique shops. Could have been a worse place to be stuck!

Back in the city, dodging the street cars and trams, and persistent beggars, there are lots of little neighbourhoods to explore: North Beach, Little Italy and Chinatown and the waterfront with the famous but oh-so-tacky (and pretty disappointing in my opinion) Fishermans Wharf- now seemingly a construction site.

Finally there’s Alcatraz which is very popular and as I found out, you can’t just walk up and buy a ticket, even mid week in low season. Fortunately I have one more day left (not wishing to give away that I didn’t want to waste my last morning writing my final installments!) and I can go tomorrow morning. I imagine that it will be very interesting, the prison built on an island about 1mile from shore. Apparently no-one ever escaped because of the freezing water and occasional sharks. No further review necessary!

And then god-willing I’ll be running pretty much all the way back to jump in the shuttle bus to the airport, to catch the last possible flight home before my ticket expires at 2359 on the 14th……

My final night was spent in a bar, with a girl I met on Fiji and one of her mates, who is also leaving tomorrow. It is now starting to hit that I’m leaving! After walking them back, I pass a 24 hour diner, and decide to spend a while in there. I’m not hungry or thirsty, but I’ve never been in a 24 hour diner at 1am before, and it’ll be a while before the opportunity presents itself again. So why not?

There are only two flights tonight from the airport and they both go to LA. In tradition of picking the wrong flight, I end up on the small, slow plane which leaves 20 minutes before, and arrives half an hour after the other choice. On a slightly decrepit 767, I am only one row behind Business Class, and when I stretch out my foot accidentally ends up under the curtain, and spends the night there. Closest I’ll ever get I reckon!

Sometime after leaving, we cross the dateline, which means that LA is 22 hours behind Fiji, and we arrive 9 hours before we left, shortly after 1 on the afternoon of the 10th. So pretty much a bonus day. Although quite confusing as it’s my second attempt at the same date.

Dreading the usual interrogation at immigration, it all goes quite smoothly, though I do think I rather put my foot in it when the man asked me why I was here. “It’s on my way home” might not have been the smartest answer. But it’s true, you can tell by it taking 11 months and just over 3 weeks to do half the world, and the last half is done in 5 days! Then he told me I should be going to Vegas instead!

LA… well it’s big and polluted, hazy when we arrive. I’m staying a couple of nights just off Hollywood Boulevard. The Walk of Fame stars (which you have to pay for, and aren’t just given in recognition), Kodak Theatre (home of the Oscars for the past 6 years) and Graumans Chinese Theatre (where many premieres are held, and where the hand and footprints are) are just a few minutes walk away. You can see the Hollywood sign from the window in the bar at the place I’m staying- something they are quite proud of. Apart from this, and failing to spot anyone famous, we take a tour round Downtown and the Spanish bit, back up through Hollywood and out along Sunset Boulevard, to Rodeo Drive and Beverley Hills. On the second evening, wander up through the park where the rich and famous might possibly be walking their dogs (but weren’t), and watch sunset over the city on a very hot evening.

A three hour early morning flight north from Auckland and we’re in Fiji, right in the South Pacific, just west of yesterday*. Can’t miss it.

Over 300 islands make up the country, with two larger ones. The main is called Vita Levu (pronounced Fiji), with the capital Suva on the east and the main tourist airport at Nadi (say Nandi) on the east. After getting serenaded by guitar playing locals at the plane door (I may be right in saying this is the only place in the world this happens), I’m straight off the main island to do a bit of island hopping for the next 12 days. And to slow down to Fiji Time- where a watch isn’t required.

As it’s my birthday, I head straight for the self-titled party island, “Beachcomber”. Now cast away any thoughts of it being something like the Canary Islands or something in Spain, it might be cheap but it’s certainly not what you’d expect. The island itself takes about 5 minutes to walk around slowly. Days are spent on the beach and in the sea, with regular breaks for mountainous meals. Evenings are spent in the Sand Bar, watching the live band and dancing on the sand. I even get a rendition of Happy Birthday, though here it has three verses, the final being an instruction to drink lots of Fiji Bitter. There’s also fire dancing and traditional Pacific entertainment, along with crab and coconut racing (!), and nightly, the traditional everyone-must-participate dance called the Bula Dance. Bula is a general greeting and the dance is somewhat modelled on the Macarena. We are told that if we don’t do it, it will be rainy tomorrow, and on the night it wasn’t done… was the worst weather of our stay! Sppoky. I even found a video of it- just to see how embarassing it was: http://www.personal.psu.edu/users/a/d/adr156/movies/buladancemovie.AVI

 Leaving the Manamuca Islands behind, and heading up to the volcanic Yasawa Islands to the north, next stop is right at the top: Nacula Island and purportedly the nicest beach at Oarsmans Bay. More of the same lazing around and snorkelling, as well as a bit of underground cave swimming at a sacred island and visiting Navula village. Here we wander round grassy “streets”, see the little ones at the nursery school, visit the missionaries churches and get sung to at the main school. Culture over with, it’s another journey south on the Big Yellow Boat, this one a bit choppy, to Manta Ray Island, just next to Naviti. Unfortunately the big sea monsters weren’t around, and as it rained a lot here, we never made it much out of the shelter at the top of the hill (ok, the bar). Keeping up the tradition of having someones birthday on every island wasn’t neglected here either. My final night was spent pretty much next to the mainland at Bounty Island, not very remarkable itself, and only noteable for it’s appearance on Celebrity Love Island… Anyway it meant that I didn’t have to spend any time in Nadi which is a bit of a dump by all accounts.

It’s hard to leave behind the smiley happy locals, but after one final rendition of Isa Isa Lei (a goodbye song) it’s time to go back to the airport for my late night flight across the Pacific. Great place and great times, and nearly everyone is heading home after here. This meant that both the daily boat, and the airport departure lounge (and later on both LA and San Francisco) were like reunions. I’m sure I’ll come back…

* next to the International Date Line

Well my time has come to an end. I’ve had a great time here, and for the place named as the  Land of the Long White Cloud, the weather has been pretty good. Barring further breakdowns, I’m heading back to Auckland this afternoon, and then heading to the airport tonight. Tomorrow morning I’ve got a really early flight to Fiji, where I’ll be heading straight to Beachcomber Island for a few days for my birthday. Not sure what I’m doing for the remaining 9 days, but it’ll most likely involve not much on white beaches (though once again I am visiting in rainy season!)

Excuse me for now, I feel it’s time for one last ice cream on the beach as it’s so sunny…

From Waitomo I head to Auckland. Not having had any good reviews of this place by anyone who’s visited, I only spend one evening there where I catch up with some friends. Then day after head up to Paihia in the Bay of Islands. Read the rest of this entry »

Leaving the perilously thin earth’s crust and the evil smells behind, it’s time to visit some caves. Waitomo is famous for it’s limestone karst environment, and there are hundreds of underground places to explore here. Read the rest of this entry »

Next up, is Rotorua. This place is by another big lake, and people visit here as it’s very volcanically active (another eggy town) and is the centre of Maori culture. Read the rest of this entry »

There’s another big lake here, and a touristy town in a picturesque location. But I came here to go skydiving.

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