Bring on South America...

:: Minor falls at Iguazu ::

:: Warning - the following post may disturb Vegetarian readers ::

Setting off for South America was like starting afresh again. Since setting out two years ago we can trace on a map our whole contiguous route over land from Dubrovnik all the way to Cairo. Flying to Argentina was our first deflection from this overland route - a necessary one, but a new beginning to another land journey. The first challenge was getting to grips with the language, the most worrying discovery was that the phase book didn't contain the phrase "medium, rare" an absolute must when ordering that happened daily in the weeks that followed.

There are two ways of getting from Buenos Aires airport to the city, the airport shuttle bus (1 hr) and the local 86 bus (2.5 hours). With time on our side we chose the latter and were treated to a very long ride through every two horse town on the way into the city. Choosing this route soon made us acutely aware of just how sprawling a capital Buenos Aires, is looking out the bus window we wondered would we ever get to the centre. When you do get to the centre the traffic is atrocious, the main bus station, business district and an unbelievably busy container port all lie in close proximity to each other creating a recipe for disaster. It can take an hour to move just a couple of kilometers.

:: Tango on our doorstep ::

We stayed in the San Telmo area, an artsy quarter with lots of funky cafes, restaurants and antique shops not far from the centre. Over the weekend the whole area came alive with street markets, music and tango dancing on the street. Despite very cold temperatures dancers braved the chill in their scanty little tango dresses - and yes it is true they do just dance in the streets in Buenos Aires. Another interesting area we visited was the gritty old Bocca barrio famous for it's multicoloured buildings and old town vibe.

:: Recoleta Cemetery ::

No trip to Buenos Aires is complete without visiting it's unusual cemetery. Some of it's famous inhabitants include Eva Peron (Evita) however the real draw is the cemetery itself. Most of the coffins are in full view in family crypts. The crypts themselves are in various states of repair, some brand new other is disrepair with ceilings crumbing down in on top of the coffins. It's a very weird place and even more wacky to know that you could technically reach through the bars and touch a coffin. It's definitely not the kind of place you want to be around when it gets dark.

:: Need say no more... ::

Meat, meat, meat is the mainstay of the Argentinian diet. Parilla restaurants are on every corner, usually with big windows full of different cuts of meat grilling away, street food consists of choripans (sausages) it's definitely a place where you struggle to eat anything else. Our main activity in Buenos Aires was rating steak and red wine restaurants and boy that was an enviable task. Writing this looking back makes my mouth water. We had some of our finest steaks, huge 500g cooked to perfection offerings. One restaurant boasted that it's steaks were so tender and well cooked that you could cut your steak with a spoon - incidentally that was La Brigada and it was one of the best steaks we've ever had. As to be expected red wine is also and area where Argentina excels. For a couple of dollars you can pick up a great one on a supermarket shelf. It's an affordable drink that naturally accompanies dinner rather than an extravagance.

From Buenos Aires we toyed with the idea of heading south towards Patagonia. Plummeting temperatures, insufficient winter clothes and past experience however steered our decision to go north towards the warmer regions. Our next hop was a ferry ride over to Uruguay and to Colonia, a picture perfect seaside town. Colonia looks like a movie set, old buildings housing smart restaurants, mossy cobbled streets, vintage cars abandoned here and there and a ruin or two thrown in for good measure. You can easily see it all walking around it for a couple of hours - or race around in a ridiculous buggy vehicle like many of the tourists did the day we were there.

:: Colonia streetscape ::

Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay was next on the itinerary. To be honest our first impressions of the place was a bit "grey and boring". Everything seemed a bit drab, mind you the search for accommodation wasn't going too well and we'd just purchased a hotdog from a street vendor complete with hair, perhaps that had something to do with our outlook. With a bed found and the sun out, the city became all the more attractive. After a bit of wandering we found the nice buildings and beautiful old square. The real charm of Montevideo lies in the area near the port. At present it's the run down largely derelict side of town but surprisingly there are streets and streets of art deco buildings. Our bets are this area will be Montevideo prime real estate of the future.

:: mmmm... lunch ::

Lunchtime means meat time... so it was off to the Mercado, a huge factory like building with a smoking chimney containing about twenty different restaurants all serving huge hunks of meat. You walk around grill after grill taking a look at what they've got - usually every conceivable part of the animal. Then you choose an establishment, sit down at a bench and tuck in.

Cities in Argentina are connected by a well serviced network of luxury buses. There's no such thing as the cheap rickety option of getting between two points, actually there's no choice, it's luxury expensive bus or no bus. Bus costs can be frighteningly high, we looked in horror at the cost of getting a few hours up the road and had to remind ourselves that the bus would not only have a soft seat but also the decadence of windows. At the start it felt like out and out flashpacking - far too swish. All the same there are a lot of unnecessary comforts that are no doubt factored significantly into the cost like hot meals and Styrofoam cups of wine.

We bussed north through Argentina to the city of Rosario its claim to fame being the birthplace of Che Guevara. From there it was on to the sleepy town of Posadas, we arrived early on a Sunday morning to find everything closed for the day. Our hotel owner an 87 year old woman pointed us in the direction of a "Tenedor Libre" (all you can eat meat joint). After Sunday lunch we took a stroll along the river front along with the entire population of Posadas along with their mugs and flasks. This naturally brings me to Yerba Mate, the drink of Argentinians and the national pasttime. Everyone and I mean everyone walks around with their own cup made from a gourd, filled to the brim with Yerba and a metal straw to suck it through. In this part of the world it's a social activity and a way of life. To us it was a bizarre and cumbersome addiction, not only do you need to carry a mug and a straw but you need an entire flask of water to keep your cup topped up for the day.

:: The falls ::

We made a big push north to get to Puerto Iguazu in time for Marcus's birthday. We arrived off a long long bus ride to a welcome wave of tropical heat. At last a chance to retire the thermals and wooly socks! Puerto Iguazu is a big tourist hub and jumping off point to Iguazu Falls which sit on the border of Argentina and Brazil. Usually towns so close to big card draws are not worth hanging around but Puerto Iguazu was an exception. The town itself has a lot of local colour one of the highlights was a market specialising in delicacies. In the evenings local people would pull up and share a selection of olives, cheeses and salamis over a cold beer. A highly civilised afternoon activity.

:: " Don't mind if I do " ::

Of course everyone is in Iguazu for one reason and one reason only - to see the magnificent Iguazu waterfalls. They do not disappoint, they are literally jawdroppingly amazing. We visited from the Argentinean side where a park of pathways designed to have minimum impact on the environment leads you to different vistas and aspects of the wide cascade of waterfalls. Iguazu Falls is a series of different waterfalls so climbing the walkways took us over and under the falls. For the thrill seeker you can take a boat ride straight under the falls - thus simulating a torrential rain shower. We found the best view was from the island close to the falls. We left the most impressive of the falls, the Devil's Mouth as the last stop of the day. To get there you take a train and walk out along a platform over a wide river several hundred metres wide. The scary thing is that the river flows innocuously not giving you any indication of the huge violent drop off around the corner. Standing watching an awesome amount of water careering over the edge of Devil's Mouth was an spectacular sight.

Sadly my Granny passed away so we found ourselves back in Ireland for her funeral. Our return flight brought us all the way back to Buenos Aires this time we didn't hang around. We stopped long enough for a steak dinner before hopping on an afternoon-overnight bus to Salta in the North of Argentina. Salta is a beautiful city with a pretty little town square, lovely old buildings and plenty of stunning scenery. We spent a day recovering from the bus journey and soaking up the relaxed atmosphere before before departing for "wild west" Humacuaca further north towards the Bolivian border.



Humacuaca is one of the quirkiest of our stops, it's a tiny picturesque town in the middle of dusty no where. Really all it's got is an old train yard, a bus station, cute cobbled streets, a grassy town square and clock tower. Picture dust, tumbleweed and the odd cactus. The clock tower is unique; at twelve o'clock daily a life size monk emerges from a cuckoo clock, makes the sign of the cross and disappears until the following day. His daily appearance is pretty much the highlight of the town. We chanced giving it a miss in favour of catching the 8am bus to the Bolivian border a few hours north. A marching band trumpeting in the street at the crack of dawn had us up early anyhow.

:: Gratuitous Steak shot ::

Read more...

Bring on South America...

:: Minor falls at Iguazu ::

:: Warning - the following post may disturb Vegetarian readers ::

Setting off for South America was like starting afresh again. Since setting out two years ago we can trace on a map our whole contiguous route over land from Dubrovnik all the way to Cairo. Flying to Argentina was our first deflection from this overland route - a necessary one, but a new beginning to another land journey. The first challenge was getting to grips with the language, the most worrying discovery was that the phase book didn't contain the phrase "medium, rare" an absolute must when ordering that happened daily in the weeks that followed.

There are two ways of getting from Buenos Aires airport to the city, the airport shuttle bus (1 hr) and the local 86 bus (2.5 hours). With time on our side we chose the latter and were treated to a very long ride through every two horse town on the way into the city. Choosing this route soon made us acutely aware of just how sprawling a capital Buenos Aires, is looking out the bus window we wondered would we ever get to the centre. When you do get to the centre the traffic is atrocious, the main bus station, business district and an unbelievably busy container port all lie in close proximity to each other creating a recipe for disaster. It can take an hour to move just a couple of kilometers.

:: Tango on our doorstep ::

We stayed in the San Telmo area, an artsy quarter with lots of funky cafes, restaurants and antique shops not far from the centre. Over the weekend the whole area came alive with street markets, music and tango dancing on the street. Despite very cold temperatures dancers braved the chill in their scanty little tango dresses - and yes it is true they do just dance in the streets in Buenos Aires. Another interesting area we visited was the gritty old Bocca barrio famous for it's multicoloured buildings and old town vibe.

:: Recoleta Cemetery ::

No trip to Buenos Aires is complete without visiting it's unusual cemetery. Some of it's famous inhabitants include Eva Peron (Evita) however the real draw is the cemetery itself. Most of the coffins are in full view in family crypts. The crypts themselves are in various states of repair, some brand new other is disrepair with ceilings crumbing down in on top of the coffins. It's a very weird place and even more wacky to know that you could technically reach through the bars and touch a coffin. It's definitely not the kind of place you want to be around when it gets dark.

:: Need say no more... ::

Meat, meat, meat is the mainstay of the Argentinian diet. Parilla restaurants are on every corner, usually with big windows full of different cuts of meat grilling away, street food consists of choripans (sausages) it's definitely a place where you struggle to eat anything else. Our main activity in Buenos Aires was rating steak and red wine restaurants and boy that was an enviable task. Writing this looking back makes my mouth water. We had some of our finest steaks, huge 500g cooked to perfection offerings. One restaurant boasted that it's steaks were so tender and well cooked that you could cut your steak with a spoon - incidentally that was La Brigada and it was one of the best steaks we've ever had. As to be expected red wine is also and area where Argentina excels. For a couple of dollars you can pick up a great one on a supermarket shelf. It's an affordable drink that naturally accompanies dinner rather than an extravagance.

From Buenos Aires we toyed with the idea of heading south towards Patagonia. Plummeting temperatures, insufficient winter clothes and past experience however steered our decision to go north towards the warmer regions. Our next hop was a ferry ride over to Uruguay and to Colonia, a picture perfect seaside town. Colonia looks like a movie set, old buildings housing smart restaurants, mossy cobbled streets, vintage cars abandoned here and there and a ruin or two thrown in for good measure. You can easily see it all walking around it for a couple of hours - or race around in a ridiculous buggy vehicle like many of the tourists did the day we were there.

:: Colonia streetscape ::

Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay was next on the itinerary. To be honest our first impressions of the place was a bit "grey and boring". Everything seemed a bit drab, mind you the search for accommodation wasn't going too well and we'd just purchased a hotdog from a street vendor complete with hair, perhaps that had something to do with our outlook. With a bed found and the sun out, the city became all the more attractive. After a bit of wandering we found the nice buildings and beautiful old square. The real charm of Montevideo lies in the area near the port. At present it's the run down largely derelict side of town but surprisingly there are streets and streets of art deco buildings. Our bets are this area will be Montevideo prime real estate of the future.

:: mmmm... lunch ::

Lunchtime means meat time... so it was off to the Mercado, a huge factory like building with a smoking chimney containing about twenty different restaurants all serving huge hunks of meat. You walk around grill after grill taking a look at what they've got - usually every conceivable part of the animal. Then you choose an establishment, sit down at a bench and tuck in.

Cities in Argentina are connected by a well serviced network of luxury buses. There's no such thing as the cheap rickety option of getting between two points, actually there's no choice, it's luxury expensive bus or no bus. Bus costs can be frighteningly high, we looked in horror at the cost of getting a few hours up the road and had to remind ourselves that the bus would not only have a soft seat but also the decadence of windows. At the start it felt like out and out flashpacking - far too swish. All the same there are a lot of unnecessary comforts that are no doubt factored significantly into the cost like hot meals and Styrofoam cups of wine.

We bussed north through Argentina to the city of Rosario its claim to fame being the birthplace of Che Guevara. From there it was on to the sleepy town of Posadas, we arrived early on a Sunday morning to find everything closed for the day. Our hotel owner an 87 year old woman pointed us in the direction of a "Tenedor Libre" (all you can eat meat joint). After Sunday lunch we took a stroll along the river front along with the entire population of Posadas along with their mugs and flasks. This naturally brings me to Yerba Mate, the drink of Argentinians and the national pasttime. Everyone and I mean everyone walks around with their own cup made from a gourd, filled to the brim with Yerba and a metal straw to suck it through. In this part of the world it's a social activity and a way of life. To us it was a bizarre and cumbersome addiction, not only do you need to carry a mug and a straw but you need an entire flask of water to keep your cup topped up for the day.

:: The falls ::

We made a big push north to get to Puerto Iguazu in time for Marcus's birthday. We arrived off a long long bus ride to a welcome wave of tropical heat. At last a chance to retire the thermals and wooly socks! Puerto Iguazu is a big tourist hub and jumping off point to Iguazu Falls which sit on the border of Argentina and Brazil. Usually towns so close to big card draws are not worth hanging around but Puerto Iguazu was an exception. The town itself has a lot of local colour one of the highlights was a market specialising in delicacies. In the evenings local people would pull up and share a selection of olives, cheeses and salamis over a cold beer. A highly civilised afternoon activity.

:: " Don't mind if I do " ::

Of course everyone is in Iguazu for one reason and one reason only - to see the magnificent Iguazu waterfalls. They do not disappoint, they are literally jawdroppingly amazing. We visited from the Argentinean side where a park of pathways designed to have minimum impact on the environment leads you to different vistas and aspects of the wide cascade of waterfalls. Iguazu Falls is a series of different waterfalls so climbing the walkways took us over and under the falls. For the thrill seeker you can take a boat ride straight under the falls - thus simulating a torrential rain shower. We found the best view was from the island close to the falls. We left the most impressive of the falls, the Devil's Mouth as the last stop of the day. To get there you take a train and walk out along a platform over a wide river several hundred metres wide. The scary thing is that the river flows innocuously not giving you any indication of the huge violent drop off around the corner. Standing watching an awesome amount of water careering over the edge of Devil's Mouth was an spectacular sight.

Sadly my Granny passed away so we found ourselves back in Ireland for her funeral. Our return flight brought us all the way back to Buenos Aires this time we didn't hang around. We stopped long enough for a steak dinner before hopping on an afternoon-overnight bus to Salta in the North of Argentina. Salta is a beautiful city with a pretty little town square, lovely old buildings and plenty of stunning scenery. We spent a day recovering from the bus journey and soaking up the relaxed atmosphere before before departing for "wild west" Humacuaca further north towards the Bolivian border.



Humacuaca is one of the quirkiest of our stops, it's a tiny picturesque town in the middle of dusty no where. Really all it's got is an old train yard, a bus station, cute cobbled streets, a grassy town square and clock tower. Picture dust, tumbleweed and the odd cactus. The clock tower is unique; at twelve o'clock daily a life size monk emerges from a cuckoo clock, makes the sign of the cross and disappears until the following day. His daily appearance is pretty much the highlight of the town. We chanced giving it a miss in favour of catching the 8am bus to the Bolivian border a few hours north. A marching band trumpeting in the street at the crack of dawn had us up early anyhow.

:: Gratuitous Steak shot ::

Read more...

Egypt - Hot, Wet and Tasty

:: Luxor ::

And onto Egypt... bring it on! We were ready to meet the very renowned worst of the world's touts, tricksters and scams artists.

Our first stop was the backpacking diving mecca of Dahab. We intended staying a few days but that quickly stretched to over a week. It was a great opportunity to get a few dives under our belts. So for our stay in Dahab we threw ourselves into a pretty rigourous diving schedule. From a recreational diving perspective Dahab and the Red Sea have some fantastic dive sites full of tropical fish and coral ranging in difficulty. All the dives are shore dives so the full geared walk to the water can be demanding. An added bonus is the affordability of the dive packages (6 dives for 100 euros) and Dahab itself is a pretty little cheap and cheerful town full of guesthouses and restaurants that suit every budget.

Dahab is famous for it's Blue Hole a "bottomless" hole revered by technical and freestyle divers. You don't have to be around Dahab for long before you hear all the stories of bodies being recovered from the bottom of the hole after technical dives have gone badly wrong with fatal results. (youtube for more - including some beautiful freediving efforts here)

We spent the early mornings diving and afternoons hanging out in Bishi Bishi guesthouse enjoying cheap beers and great food with Dave. We had a great opportunity to take a side trip and dive the Thistlegorm wreck lying off the coast of Sharm El Shiek. As wreck sites go it was a facinating dive, the World War 2 ship went down and still lies at the bottom complete of its cargo - motorbikes, motorcars, tires, boots, cannonballs etc. As Always a picture tells a 1000 words so here is a little video of someones dive on the Thistlegorm to give you a visual of how cool it is.

You can even swim through captian's quarters. It's an interesting wreck although very challenging due to currents and groups of mixed ability divers. We got a lucky day where there wern't too many boats from Sharm El Sheik so it wasn't as busy as it could have been. We took a customary two hour recovery period in Sharm El Shiek before heading back over the mountains to Dahab. It was certainly long enough to see Sharm for the horrible touristy resort it has become and everyone was delighted to get back to little-ol Dahab. After saying goodbye to our diving buddy Dave we decided it was time to hit the road again.

:: Dave vs Hookah ::

The next stop was Suez which turned out to be a lot more hassle than it was worth. Arriving in the late afternoon we had enormously difficulty finding a bed for the night. Every single hotel was full to capacity. By the time we found the very last room in the city it was too dark to go and see the Suez canal up close - we saw the ships gliding through the desert from afar. We departed the following morning early in an attempt to get to Luxor in daylight hours. Getting from Suez to Luxor was a huge challenge, we managed to find a bus going to a place 30 km from Luxor. We arrived and found the terminus where minivans left every hour or so for Luxor. The drivers agreed to take us but only if we paid three times the fare. Their reason being that we'd (tourists) would just be hassle going through the checkpoints. The scene turned nasty and the men got openly hostile and changed their stance to point blank refusing to take us anywhere. Cue tears from me (half staged, half genuine!) followed by Marcus addressing the crowd saying "are you all happy now, you've made my wife cry?". After lots of guilty looks and shuffling around they finally agreed to take us. There was a stage pretears where we thought we'd be stuck there indefinitely. As it happens there was zero hassle at any of the checkpoints and an hour or so later we were dropped on the outskirts of Luxor.

:: Luxor Temple ::

Luxor is hassle, hassle, hassle. The taxis, the shopkeepers and the horse and cart men constantly tout their business and aggresively follow you around waiting for you to finally give in and hand your money over. We found the key to an easy life was to get on a bike, the lesson is only the walkers get solicitated. So luckily we saw the whole of Luxor unhassled, in 47 degree heat, on a couple of rickity rented bikes. On one very long hot day we set out for the Valley of the Kings, as we neared the entrance gates the security guards cheered us on. We were definitely the novelty of the day, most of the tourists were in big airconditioned coaches. We'd a great day panting around the ancient tombs. Most of the time we had the tombs to ourselves but where we didn't it was ok as we mostly overlapped with Russian tour groups, they tend to visit things at such a rate that they create a breeze that benefits everyone else.

:: Luxor ::

Our final stop was the capital, Cairo, a city not half as hectic as we expected. Taking it's chaotic traffic out of the equation, Cairo is a very civilised city with a fantastic vibe. It ticked all the boxes for us, fantastic food, interesting streets, old buildings and lots of different diverse areas. We found a great room with a balcony overlooking a quiet street right in the centre of the city and settled in very quickly. Everything was on our doorstep including the amazing Egyptian museum - well worth the visit to see the treasures of the country and of course the infamous gold mask of King Tut.

:: Muslim area in Cairo ::

Our trip to the pyramids didn't quite pan out as expected. We decided to go in the afternoon, hoping to avoid the tour groups. When we got there the place was desserted save for a handful of tourists. A further surprise was that we were only offered two camel rides and one postcard. Declination was met with respect and no further bothering - to our utter amazement/disappointment. We found ourselves asking "aren't these guys supposed to be the most hardnosed touts on the planet? Why aren't they hassling us? What's wrong with our money?". So our experience of the Pyramids was a tranquil one, no hassle, no crowds we wandered around the site, watched the sunset and practically closed to the place down. A very memorable afternoon.

:: Simply Stunning::

From there our next stop was Dublin for Katherine and Niall's wedding, another welcome break from the road to a soft bed and fridge full of unusual things such as cheddar cheese and rashers!

Our time in Ireland coincided with two sad family deaths. My Aunty Mary, herself a well travelled person and avid reader of our blog, sadly passed away after a long illness. A few short weeks later my Granny also died after reaching the remarkable age of 95 years. Losing these two people fundamental in my family's life was a reminder of how important it is to make the most of the time we've got in this world. For us, this translates into completing what we started - seeing our trip through to the end and enjoying the opportunity that we've been given.

Read more...

Egypt - Hot, Wet and Tasty

:: Luxor ::

And onto Egypt... bring it on! We were ready to meet the very renowned worst of the world's touts, tricksters and scams artists.

Our first stop was the backpacking diving mecca of Dahab. We intended staying a few days but that quickly stretched to over a week. It was a great opportunity to get a few dives under our belts. So for our stay in Dahab we threw ourselves into a pretty rigourous diving schedule. From a recreational diving perspective Dahab and the Red Sea have some fantastic dive sites full of tropical fish and coral ranging in difficulty. All the dives are shore dives so the full geared walk to the water can be demanding. An added bonus is the affordability of the dive packages (6 dives for 100 euros) and Dahab itself is a pretty little cheap and cheerful town full of guesthouses and restaurants that suit every budget.

Dahab is famous for it's Blue Hole a "bottomless" hole revered by technical and freestyle divers. You don't have to be around Dahab for long before you hear all the stories of bodies being recovered from the bottom of the hole after technical dives have gone badly wrong with fatal results. (youtube for more - including some beautiful freediving efforts here)

We spent the early mornings diving and afternoons hanging out in Bishi Bishi guesthouse enjoying cheap beers and great food with Dave. We had a great opportunity to take a side trip and dive the Thistlegorm wreck lying off the coast of Sharm El Shiek. As wreck sites go it was a facinating dive, the World War 2 ship went down and still lies at the bottom complete of its cargo - motorbikes, motorcars, tires, boots, cannonballs etc. As Always a picture tells a 1000 words so here is a little video of someones dive on the Thistlegorm to give you a visual of how cool it is.

You can even swim through captian's quarters. It's an interesting wreck although very challenging due to currents and groups of mixed ability divers. We got a lucky day where there wern't too many boats from Sharm El Sheik so it wasn't as busy as it could have been. We took a customary two hour recovery period in Sharm El Shiek before heading back over the mountains to Dahab. It was certainly long enough to see Sharm for the horrible touristy resort it has become and everyone was delighted to get back to little-ol Dahab. After saying goodbye to our diving buddy Dave we decided it was time to hit the road again.

:: Dave vs Hookah ::

The next stop was Suez which turned out to be a lot more hassle than it was worth. Arriving in the late afternoon we had enormously difficulty finding a bed for the night. Every single hotel was full to capacity. By the time we found the very last room in the city it was too dark to go and see the Suez canal up close - we saw the ships gliding through the desert from afar. We departed the following morning early in an attempt to get to Luxor in daylight hours. Getting from Suez to Luxor was a huge challenge, we managed to find a bus going to a place 30 km from Luxor. We arrived and found the terminus where minivans left every hour or so for Luxor. The drivers agreed to take us but only if we paid three times the fare. Their reason being that we'd (tourists) would just be hassle going through the checkpoints. The scene turned nasty and the men got openly hostile and changed their stance to point blank refusing to take us anywhere. Cue tears from me (half staged, half genuine!) followed by Marcus addressing the crowd saying "are you all happy now, you've made my wife cry?". After lots of guilty looks and shuffling around they finally agreed to take us. There was a stage pretears where we thought we'd be stuck there indefinitely. As it happens there was zero hassle at any of the checkpoints and an hour or so later we were dropped on the outskirts of Luxor.

:: Luxor Temple ::

Luxor is hassle, hassle, hassle. The taxis, the shopkeepers and the horse and cart men constantly tout their business and aggresively follow you around waiting for you to finally give in and hand your money over. We found the key to an easy life was to get on a bike, the lesson is only the walkers get solicitated. So luckily we saw the whole of Luxor unhassled, in 47 degree heat, on a couple of rickity rented bikes. On one very long hot day we set out for the Valley of the Kings, as we neared the entrance gates the security guards cheered us on. We were definitely the novelty of the day, most of the tourists were in big airconditioned coaches. We'd a great day panting around the ancient tombs. Most of the time we had the tombs to ourselves but where we didn't it was ok as we mostly overlapped with Russian tour groups, they tend to visit things at such a rate that they create a breeze that benefits everyone else.

:: Luxor ::

Our final stop was the capital, Cairo, a city not half as hectic as we expected. Taking it's chaotic traffic out of the equation, Cairo is a very civilised city with a fantastic vibe. It ticked all the boxes for us, fantastic food, interesting streets, old buildings and lots of different diverse areas. We found a great room with a balcony overlooking a quiet street right in the centre of the city and settled in very quickly. Everything was on our doorstep including the amazing Egyptian museum - well worth the visit to see the treasures of the country and of course the infamous gold mask of King Tut.

:: Muslim area in Cairo ::

Our trip to the pyramids didn't quite pan out as expected. We decided to go in the afternoon, hoping to avoid the tour groups. When we got there the place was desserted save for a handful of tourists. A further surprise was that we were only offered two camel rides and one postcard. Declination was met with respect and no further bothering - to our utter amazement/disappointment. We found ourselves asking "aren't these guys supposed to be the most hardnosed touts on the planet? Why aren't they hassling us? What's wrong with our money?". So our experience of the Pyramids was a tranquil one, no hassle, no crowds we wandered around the site, watched the sunset and practically closed to the place down. A very memorable afternoon.

:: Simply Stunning::

From there our next stop was Dublin for Katherine and Niall's wedding, another welcome break from the road to a soft bed and fridge full of unusual things such as cheddar cheese and rashers!

Our time in Ireland coincided with two sad family deaths. My Aunty Mary, herself a well travelled person and avid reader of our blog, sadly passed away after a long illness. A few short weeks later my Granny also died after reaching the remarkable age of 95 years. Losing these two people fundamental in my family's life was a reminder of how important it is to make the most of the time we've got in this world. For us, this translates into completing what we started - seeing our trip through to the end and enjoying the opportunity that we've been given.

Read more...

Jordanian um....well.. read it and see

:: Wow - Petra made it all worth it ::

::Rant Ahead - be warned::
What goes up must come down; after an amazing time in Syria we slipped over the border into Jordan and into what turned out to be our least favourite country in all our travels. I'll start by stressing that the things that irked us most were typical "independent traveller" gripes and also bad experiences that were specific to us. We were rubbed up the wrong way once too many times and our tolerance to see the country though properly, quickly waned, so we made the decision to power through the must-sees and out of Jordan as quick as possible. Admittedly this meant we did a whistlestop fly-through bouyant on negativity and didn't leave Jordan or Jordians much room for redemption. That being said we've covered a lot of ground over the past two years, always unearthing the good in places and we class ourselves as people who are easy to please. Disappointingly, this demonstates to us that our gripes weren't totally futile and unfounded.

High on the list of annoyances was the rip-off attitude towards tourists. We've experienced this in some shape or form in every place we've ever visited. When it comes to a premium Magnum icecream, teeshirt, Diet Coke, or a chilled bottle of water at the gate of the Taj Mahal, inflated prices can be tolerated, in fact they're expected. For basic items necessary to survive such as bread and water, bought far from the gates of a tourist attractions, there can be no such mandate. The difference in Jordan was that it was done in the absolute extreme. The price of a bottle of water (necessary to fend off dehydration in 40 degree plus heat) could differ by as much as two US dollars between shops for the same bottle. It was a constant battle to find water that wasn't being sold at tourist inflated extortionist prices. We went into a busy bakery one morning where locals were in buying huge bags of bread. The price for 10 rolls for them turned out to be the price quoted to us for one roll. When challenged the owner simply indicated that "You´re not Jordanian". It would have been cheaper for us to eat in a restaurant. Exasperated it was on to a small restaurant for a takeaway falafel, no prices on the menu, when we asked no one was quite sure what the price was (please note this was there core business) eventually a pathetically scanty falafel appeared. It was so ridiculous it was funny. We normally don't eat in white table cloth touristy restaurants preferring instead to eat where ever locals are. In Jordan we quickly began to realise that if you wanted to experience the real Jordan, away from the bus tours and pizza restaurants then it was an uphill battle the whole way.

Getting around Jordan proved to be just as annoying. Arriving to take a bus without a prebooked ticket from an agency or hotel was frowned upon, someone somewhere had lost out on commission. We got a bus early one morning only to be told that as we hadn't booked seats we might be thrown off. That's fair enough only the buses were far from full. Lots of locals turned up to take the same service. Getting the honest price on a bus ticket was another barrel of laughs, nobody knew the proper price of a ticket, not a local, not a hotel, not the tourist office, it was a lucky dip.

So our limited dealings with Jordians were fraught and met with out and out rudeness. Everyone was quick on the defensive, moaned about how hard life was and generally came across as a nation coping with a miserable lot. Blatent bitching and moaning about people, or things or prices of this and that, left most travellers we spent time around with a gutful of the whingers. It was at that point we decided we'd had enough. Our efforts to get along and enjoy the country were getting nowhere fast and we were only getting more and more disillusioned and annoyed.

: The Monastery ::

On a positive side we were absolutely blown away by Petra. As you walk through the long narrow canyon leading up to the Treasury builing you think you're fully prepared to see the famous sight, the first glimpse you catch however total exceeds expectations. The highlight of a long hot day at Petra was without a doubt climbing up to the monastery which magestically stands on the top of a hill.

:: The Monastery ::

Amusingly around Petra there's a collective whistling or humming of the Indiana Jones theme song. At one stage we heard the theme song being belted out enthuasistically only to round the corner to the site of a family coming the other way on mules. Thoroughly enjoying the moment was the dad leading the troupe, hat in hand, singing away.... on a small mule, his feet were inches from dragging through the sand. The mule was slowly meandering it's way along the road oblivous to his oversized riders ambitions or reinacting the final scene of the "Lost Chalice" movie.

:: First Sight ::

Our next stop was a night in the desert at Wadi rum. After picking our tent for the night we set off on a long 15km walk across the hot desert sands towards a rock that loomed on the horizon. Arriving before the midday heat struck we decided to take a nap in a shady canyon before starting the return journey. We got comfortable at the canyon and ended up staying there all day watching other tourist groups coming and going. In fact at one point I woke from a snooze to the scary sight of a couple of cameras in my face - Japanese tourists. One thing we learnt that day was how hard it is to gauge distances in the desert. You see a something in the distance and set off for it but it can take hours to actually reach it. As dusk was falling we finally made it back to our little tent. A good day out in the desert but after dragging ourselves through heavy sand all day we were glad to get back to the tarmacked road.

:: Desert Sands ::

The final port of call in Jordan was the seaside city of Aquba, arriving one day before a big holiday we found that everywhere had a room available but for one night only. Easy decision made to spend a night, take a look around and catch a morning ferry across to Egypt. Aquba turned out to be fairly unremarkable, a standard touristy town full of tacky souvenir shops and restaurants. It's beach was a little strange, the entire strip was one empty drinks restaurant after another all covered their frontage in tables and chairs, there wasn't an inch of sand to be seen. Even weirder was the awning that covered the whole beach. Whatever concept was in play just didn't work, as the tide came in tables and chairs kind of floated unattractively in murky water.

:: Sea View ? ::

The following morning we set off for the port to catch the ferry to Egypt. Generally the word on the street was to get to the ferry terminal 2 hours in advance of a departure. We arrived for our 10am departure an hour and a half in advance - no thanks to our bus overshooting the drop off point and only grinding to a halt and throwing us out on the highway after we pointed questioningly back a few large ferries we'd zoomed past. Panting up to the window Marcus asked for two tickets to Egypt, the seller reponded by wagging his finger in a schoolmaster fashion and tapping his watch three times before generally ignoring him. Marcus tapped the window and said "Can you sell me a ticket the ferry doesn't leave for one and a half hours?" the guy shrugged noncommitedly. After a lot of pointless to-ing and fro-ing the ticket man decided he'd made enough of a scene and finally backed down on the ferry company's intolerance for tardiness in the punctuality department. Ironically the boat departed two hours late. There is a point to making people turn up two hours before departure - a total chaotic system exists to check in, get stamped out of Jordan, buy a stamp for this, get a receipt for that and finally pay for everything at the other end of the building. We didn't even get to experience the full fiasco, when we got to the gate of the ferry there was a large crowd (on dry land) pushing forward to the boarding gate in a frantic queue - it was as if there was a ship sinking and there weren't enough lifeboats. An uniformed guy with a large gun spotted us looking on bewilderment at the scene and motioned us forward and through the boarding gate. During the two hour delay, five hour crossing and three hour wait for them to open the doors and release us onto dry land we had plenty of time to make friends with Dave, a fellow bewildered passenger with who we kicked on and had some great adventures with...in the next episode.

Read more...

Jordanian um....well.. read it and see

:: Wow - Petra made it all worth it ::

::Rant Ahead - be warned::
What goes up must come down; after an amazing time in Syria we slipped over the border into Jordan and into what turned out to be our least favourite country in all our travels. I'll start by stressing that the things that irked us most were typical "independent traveller" gripes and also bad experiences that were specific to us. We were rubbed up the wrong way once too many times and our tolerance to see the country though properly, quickly waned, so we made the decision to power through the must-sees and out of Jordan as quick as possible. Admittedly this meant we did a whistlestop fly-through bouyant on negativity and didn't leave Jordan or Jordians much room for redemption. That being said we've covered a lot of ground over the past two years, always unearthing the good in places and we class ourselves as people who are easy to please. Disappointingly, this demonstates to us that our gripes weren't totally futile and unfounded.

High on the list of annoyances was the rip-off attitude towards tourists. We've experienced this in some shape or form in every place we've ever visited. When it comes to a premium Magnum icecream, teeshirt, Diet Coke, or a chilled bottle of water at the gate of the Taj Mahal, inflated prices can be tolerated, in fact they're expected. For basic items necessary to survive such as bread and water, bought far from the gates of a tourist attractions, there can be no such mandate. The difference in Jordan was that it was done in the absolute extreme. The price of a bottle of water (necessary to fend off dehydration in 40 degree plus heat) could differ by as much as two US dollars between shops for the same bottle. It was a constant battle to find water that wasn't being sold at tourist inflated extortionist prices. We went into a busy bakery one morning where locals were in buying huge bags of bread. The price for 10 rolls for them turned out to be the price quoted to us for one roll. When challenged the owner simply indicated that "You´re not Jordanian". It would have been cheaper for us to eat in a restaurant. Exasperated it was on to a small restaurant for a takeaway falafel, no prices on the menu, when we asked no one was quite sure what the price was (please note this was there core business) eventually a pathetically scanty falafel appeared. It was so ridiculous it was funny. We normally don't eat in white table cloth touristy restaurants preferring instead to eat where ever locals are. In Jordan we quickly began to realise that if you wanted to experience the real Jordan, away from the bus tours and pizza restaurants then it was an uphill battle the whole way.

Getting around Jordan proved to be just as annoying. Arriving to take a bus without a prebooked ticket from an agency or hotel was frowned upon, someone somewhere had lost out on commission. We got a bus early one morning only to be told that as we hadn't booked seats we might be thrown off. That's fair enough only the buses were far from full. Lots of locals turned up to take the same service. Getting the honest price on a bus ticket was another barrel of laughs, nobody knew the proper price of a ticket, not a local, not a hotel, not the tourist office, it was a lucky dip.

So our limited dealings with Jordians were fraught and met with out and out rudeness. Everyone was quick on the defensive, moaned about how hard life was and generally came across as a nation coping with a miserable lot. Blatent bitching and moaning about people, or things or prices of this and that, left most travellers we spent time around with a gutful of the whingers. It was at that point we decided we'd had enough. Our efforts to get along and enjoy the country were getting nowhere fast and we were only getting more and more disillusioned and annoyed.

: The Monastery ::

On a positive side we were absolutely blown away by Petra. As you walk through the long narrow canyon leading up to the Treasury builing you think you're fully prepared to see the famous sight, the first glimpse you catch however total exceeds expectations. The highlight of a long hot day at Petra was without a doubt climbing up to the monastery which magestically stands on the top of a hill.

:: The Monastery ::

Amusingly around Petra there's a collective whistling or humming of the Indiana Jones theme song. At one stage we heard the theme song being belted out enthuasistically only to round the corner to the site of a family coming the other way on mules. Thoroughly enjoying the moment was the dad leading the troupe, hat in hand, singing away.... on a small mule, his feet were inches from dragging through the sand. The mule was slowly meandering it's way along the road oblivous to his oversized riders ambitions or reinacting the final scene of the "Lost Chalice" movie.

:: First Sight ::

Our next stop was a night in the desert at Wadi rum. After picking our tent for the night we set off on a long 15km walk across the hot desert sands towards a rock that loomed on the horizon. Arriving before the midday heat struck we decided to take a nap in a shady canyon before starting the return journey. We got comfortable at the canyon and ended up staying there all day watching other tourist groups coming and going. In fact at one point I woke from a snooze to the scary sight of a couple of cameras in my face - Japanese tourists. One thing we learnt that day was how hard it is to gauge distances in the desert. You see a something in the distance and set off for it but it can take hours to actually reach it. As dusk was falling we finally made it back to our little tent. A good day out in the desert but after dragging ourselves through heavy sand all day we were glad to get back to the tarmacked road.

:: Desert Sands ::

The final port of call in Jordan was the seaside city of Aquba, arriving one day before a big holiday we found that everywhere had a room available but for one night only. Easy decision made to spend a night, take a look around and catch a morning ferry across to Egypt. Aquba turned out to be fairly unremarkable, a standard touristy town full of tacky souvenir shops and restaurants. It's beach was a little strange, the entire strip was one empty drinks restaurant after another all covered their frontage in tables and chairs, there wasn't an inch of sand to be seen. Even weirder was the awning that covered the whole beach. Whatever concept was in play just didn't work, as the tide came in tables and chairs kind of floated unattractively in murky water.

:: Sea View ? ::

The following morning we set off for the port to catch the ferry to Egypt. Generally the word on the street was to get to the ferry terminal 2 hours in advance of a departure. We arrived for our 10am departure an hour and a half in advance - no thanks to our bus overshooting the drop off point and only grinding to a halt and throwing us out on the highway after we pointed questioningly back a few large ferries we'd zoomed past. Panting up to the window Marcus asked for two tickets to Egypt, the seller reponded by wagging his finger in a schoolmaster fashion and tapping his watch three times before generally ignoring him. Marcus tapped the window and said "Can you sell me a ticket the ferry doesn't leave for one and a half hours?" the guy shrugged noncommitedly. After a lot of pointless to-ing and fro-ing the ticket man decided he'd made enough of a scene and finally backed down on the ferry company's intolerance for tardiness in the punctuality department. Ironically the boat departed two hours late. There is a point to making people turn up two hours before departure - a total chaotic system exists to check in, get stamped out of Jordan, buy a stamp for this, get a receipt for that and finally pay for everything at the other end of the building. We didn't even get to experience the full fiasco, when we got to the gate of the ferry there was a large crowd (on dry land) pushing forward to the boarding gate in a frantic queue - it was as if there was a ship sinking and there weren't enough lifeboats. An uniformed guy with a large gun spotted us looking on bewilderment at the scene and motioned us forward and through the boarding gate. During the two hour delay, five hour crossing and three hour wait for them to open the doors and release us onto dry land we had plenty of time to make friends with Dave, a fellow bewildered passenger with who we kicked on and had some great adventures with...in the next episode.

Read more...

Syrian Hospitality

:: Hammam Rooftops let light filter in... (aka Daleks - exterminate !) ::

It´s worth mentioning that we had our very best Tavuk Doner in the Turkish border city of Antakya, it was a fortuitous find more driven by a desire to get rid of the last of our Turkish Lira than anything else. A man in a small unassuming shop was fastidiously creating what can only be described as culinary masterpieces. To confirm their greatness we had to have another one or two ... just to be sure. Filled to the brim it was on to Aleppo in Syria via an ever complicated and convoluted border process. As one of few tourists on the bus crossing the border we were afforded extra attention by the bus driver - which is just as well because if we had had to figure out all the steps we´d have been there all day. We were rounded up and brought into an office where an official told us how much our visa would be in US dollars. From there we had to produce the US dollars, go to the bank where the US dollars were exchanged into Syrian pounds. Then it was round the back to a smokey office where we handed over the Syrian pounds and were given about ten little stamps in return. On to the next desk were the gluer sat and pasted the stamp collection into our passports. Finally when the page had dried out it was back to the first desk for approval before the passports were thrown into a black hole to be stamped. The bus driver returned the passports to us and it was back on the bus for a couple of minutes before been kicked off to connect with a rickity minibus on to the city of Aleppo.

:: Market Berry Stalls ::

I´ll start by saying we had zero expectations of Syria, on the overland journey to Egypt it was one of those countries that we just had to pass through. We left there very impressed, so much so that we rank it as one of the very best countries we have ever visited. The people are exceptionally friendly and genuine. Walking down streets people actively say "Hello, welcome to Syria". Moreover everyone is happy, the whole nation walks around with a smile on their face. The food is excellent, Syria produces an abundant range of foods, markets on the streets are overflowing with top class produce. We were amazed big juicy fruits cherries, blackberries, olives, tomatoes etc. As we walked through the markets vendors called out to us giving us huge samples to taste. It actually took us a couple of days to get used to everyone being so friendly. Cost wise Syria is one of the most affordable countries we´ve travelled through. In other words you can live it up without breaking the bank. And that´s exactly what we did! When a kilo of olives are a couple of dollars and cherries, peaches and blackberries are in season it´s hard to resist. The French influence is evident in the number of bakeries scattered around the cities churning out fresh baguettes, croissants and tasty pan au chocolat. Then there are the restaurants, Allepo had streets of lovely little kebab places with huge grills in the window. If you go to Syria go with a healthy appetite. We spent a couple of days in Aleppo, primarily eating, in between meal times we explored the huge ancient souks, ventured up to the citadel and pottered around the Christian Quarter. Our guesthouse owner patiently taught us our Arabic numbers and a couple of useful phrases to help us on our way.

:: Sunlight in the Souk ::

Our next stop was the city of Hama a few hours south of Aleppo.

:: The Wheels themselves ::

Hama is famous for it´s huge groaning Noriahs - massive wooden waterwheels. After taking in a few noisy revolutions it was off to find something to eat. A long search threw up the usual very average Lonely Planet restaurant, a longer search off the main drag revealed a small felafel shop manned by a few kids. We´re pretty sure there were adults somewhere but anytime we went there over the following days (note umpteen times) it was the same kids. The kids were about ten years old and couldn´t actually see out over the high counter. Out front another kid whipped up fresh felafels at a large industrial frying vat. After a felafel order went in there was lots of laughing and free samples were thrust upon us. I´m not sure who enjoyed the whole experience more, them or us. Suffice to say the felafels were amazing and from then on a felafel without some lemon in it was a substandard take on the ubiquitous snack.

:: Crac de Chevailiers ::

On an action packed day trip we took in Crac de Chevaliers, an imposing medieval castle build during the Crusades. I say action packed because we were only as far as the bus station and patiently waiting for our minibus to fill up when a fracas broke out between locals, projectiles were thrown and people whacked over the head with sticks. Good entertainment to break the boredom when you´re waiting for more passengers. No minibus even contemplates leaving until there´s a bum on every seat. After an hours wait the bus was almost full and luckily for us the final passenger to arrive had two massive sacks of weeds that more than filled two seats. A steep uphill walk (it´s atop a 650 metre high hill) brought us to the entrance of Crac de Chevalier. The fortress itself is very well preserved so almost every inch of it can be explored. One of the highlights is walking around the ramparts - slightly scary the day we were there due to unpredictable strong gusts of wind.

:: Palmyra ::

From there it was on to dusty Palmyra an oasis in the middle of the desert. In the first century a magnificent city (Tadmore) existed here on the main caravan route linking Persia and the Mediterranean. The ruins of this city and the scale are awesome. The nearby modern city of Palmyra leaves a lot to be desired. It survives purely on tourism so a healthy "chasing the dollar" mentality exists there. In low season you can smell the desperation. After a day spent wandering around the ruins we settled for a shockingly bad take on a popular bedouin dish, dusted ourselves off and headed for the capital Damascus.

:: Palmyra ::

Damascus has it all. It´s a beautiful old city with a conveniently compact scale which makes it easy to navigate. It´s one of the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world, when you wander down the narrow laneways and through the ancient souks you can´t help but think of all the people have lived and worked for centuries in the self same streets. The souks are packed with little shops and restaurants. Damascans are passionate about their icecream, in fact there was one outlet where the queue was out the door and a slick team of workers literally couldn´t scoop out icecream quick enough. Had to be sampled of course, the rule is if there´s a queue there´s a good reason. Our other food highlight was roast chicken. We found a little restaurant that was jammed to the rafters full of people eating a half chicken, bread, gherkins and little serve of strong mayonaise. A serious number chickens were served every day.

:: Ice Cream Anyone ?::

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