mandag den 15. september 2014

DAY 365 (Travel Epilogue)



 
 
At long last, I have come full circle, and my travels are - in spite of my best efforts to pretend otherwise - almost at an end.

As I stand here in Copenhagen Airport, where this journey began almost exactly one year ago, one particular e
motion easily banishes the slow and inexorable assault of the post travel blues; a humbling and profound sense of gratitude!

I return to my country at financial rock bottom with nothing but the worn out clothes on my back - but in all other respects I am wealthier than I could ever have hoped to be. I would be hard pressed to point out a year of my life as extraordinary as this one, and it remains a fact that my adventures would never have been the same without the kindness, company and hospitality of the people around me abroad and the love and support of my family, friends and colleagues at home.

So to punctuate a year adrift, as I return to Denmark (and the job market) left is only for me to say a massive, resounding, heartfelt and deeply grateful THANK YOU... THANK YOU... THANK YOU!

To all of you.

For all the adventures, the stories, the beers and the company. For the roofs over my head, the coffees, the witty remarks, advice and recommendations. For reading some of the public diary that is my silly little blog, for following the pictures of my journey and for inspiring me to leave in the first place. For showing me nooks and crannies of the world I never knew existed and for showering me with kindness when nothing was due. For inviting me into your homes, for feeding me, for introducing me to extraordinary people and for spending your time with me. For the cars and transportation, for being silly, for the couches, the friendship, the hugs and shared expenses. For being my guide, for all the loads of laundry, for all the smiles, the laughter and for all the unforgettable memories.

The kindness and hospitality that has been extended to me in the last 365 days and through 11 countries (Denmark, United Arab Emirates, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Japan, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, Australia and New Zealand) has been as humbling as it has been invaluable.

I am truly in your debt, and I sincerely hope to be able to repay the favors to all who have been there for me - from those of you who shared even the smallest piece of my journey to those who went through fire and ice at my side. My door (once I have acquired such a thing) will always be open to you, and there will always be a cold beer waiting in the fridge!

Thank you! Tak! Shokran! Cảm ơn ông! Aw kohn! Khàwp khun khrap! Arrigato! Terima kasih! Kia ora!

Stay in touch!

tirsdag den 5. august 2014

DAY 330 (New Zealand, North Island)



At a time of what might almost be described as near adventure saturation, when the exploits of the past year practically seemed nigh impossible to match, New Zealand has managed to completely blow me away with its tranquil charm, spectacular vistas and phenomenal people.

Someone once described the country to me as a miniature version of neighboring Australia - boasting the same amount of amazing sights and attractions, but in a much smaller area. Although this rather crude comparison wholly fails to do either country justice, the description rings true in part. Few places on the planet offer as spectacular and varied scenery in as accessible a layout - from flat, expansive plainsland through the characteristic rolling hills to lush forests, active volcanoes, towering snowcapped mountains, and magnificent coastline; all within less than two hours on the road of each other.

This means first and foremost that even a short amount of time in the country allows for a plethora of absolutely sublime and multifaceted experiences every single day should one be so inclined. In comparison, similar activities and encounters were easily 10-hour drives apart on the other side of the Tasman Sea.

For many visitors since Peter Jackson's epic recreation of Tolkien's immortal masterpiece, New Zealand has become all but synonymous with the Lord of the Rings. As avid fans of the books and films, this is a notion we could not help but be guilty of sharing. Fortunately for our inner fantasy nerds, NZ absolutely delivers - and visits to  Matamata's Hobbiton, a trek in Frodo's footsteps up the slopes of Mount Doom and a tour of the mind boggling Weta Workshop quickly had us rediscovering the fateful journey of the Fellowship. In the words of Sir Ian McKellan, "Middle Earth is a real place. And it is New Zealand!"



Because of the lay of the land, a relatively meager three weeks in Aotearoa has allowed us to bungee jump, fly in massive freefall simulations, explore the geothermal wonderland of geysers and boiling volcanic lakes around Rotorua and bathe in mineral hotsprings and sulphurous mud. We have black water rafted in tiny inflatable tubes through claustrophobic, pitch black underground caves covered in bioluminescent glow worms, gone hunting through native bush and scaled a frigid mountaintop using crampons and ice axes. We have visited bustling Auckland and homey Wellington, caught a glimpse of the busiest time of year at a Kiwi dairy farm, bottle fed newborn calves and had warm milk straight from the udder of the Harris family cows. We have dug out our own hot tub in the sand at Hot Water Beach, hiked to Cathedral Cove and been taught how to Loom by an adorable gang of precious little peanuts. We have ventured into the home of a colony of hundreds of fur seals at Cape Palliser with no other human in sight and have strolled, hiked and driven through a country that apparently never ceases to impress.




Most of all, however, the last three weeks in New Zealand have offered as pleasant and beautiful a sanctuary as I could ever have hoped for, courtesy of our incredible hosts. Ngaire and Greg and the rest of my recently discovered Kiwi family have received us with open arms and welcomed us into the clan with unparalleled generosity and hospitality. The house on the top of the hill in Hauraki Plains will forever feel like a home away from home for me, and there is no doubt in my mind that this visit has been just the first of many to the land of the All Blacks.


Next up: a visit to Huu and Roe in Malaysia, a week back in Cambodia and a week with Kristian in Dubai. Then onwards to Denmark!

Ka kite anō everyone!



PICTURES:

Pictures, Hauraki Plains - https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152838982857262.1073741880.649632261&type=1&l=eda3023f65

Pictures, Matamata and Hobbiton - https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152839030707262.1073741881.649632261&type=1&l=f4444b3bea

Pictures, Rotorua and Waitomo - https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152840892187262.1073741882.649632261&type=1&l=0a74d55861

Pictures, Tongariro and Mt Doom - https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152840901472262.1073741883.649632261&type=1&l=9468590be0

Pictures, Wellington and Cape Palliser - https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152843191682262.1073741885.649632261&type=1&l=a20e00b972

Pictures, Coromandel - https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152843212907262.1073741886.649632261&type=1&l=189fb6b864  

mandag den 16. juni 2014

DAY 291 (Victoria, New South Wales & Queensland)





With the rest of the house’s 8 current inhabitants (puppy dog Kaya included) either off at work, off in search of it or off spending what’s been earned doing it, I sit down in the elusive sunshine on the deck outside overlooking the mountains in an attempt to summarize the last couple of months. Needless to say, much has happened since I last typed an update on a Thursday morning in March.

I’ll try to simply begin where I left off. Having settled into the outrageous 17th floor apartment in Melbourne, we turned our attention from working to enjoying the city. Our month in civilization presented us with visits from friends both new and old, a peek into the local music scene, live AFL games at massive stadiums, culinary experiments (including homemade leverpostej, pariserboef, and karrysild), moonlight cinema, bike rides around the city, comedy festival, the casino, laneway culture and enough time poking around town to begin feeling like a local.

However, as April 5 approached, our lease was up and it was once again time to move on. An arduous few days of trial and error behind us, with the absolutely invaluable assistance of Shane making everything come together, we finally selected our means of transportation for the pending trip up the coast: an incredibly comfortable 9-year-old KIA Pregio tradesvan now affectionately known as Wombat!

We managed to barely sync up finalizing the purchase of the van with no longer having anywhere to stay. This resulted in a couple of relatively hectic days scrambling to gather materials with which to turn the previously barebones Pregio into a veritable home on wheels. Fuelled by a modest investment of blood, sweat and scavenging trips to the junkyard, the project turned out surprisingly successful despite an obvious lack of experience and extremely limited funds.

After saying our last goodbyes to Melbourne and inhabitants, our first destination had us driving south to Phillip and Churchill Islands for an overdue reprieve from city life and a visit to one of the largest colonies of little penguins on the planet. Touristy gift shops and the hefty pricetag for admission aside, witnessing the arrival of the penguins on the shore and following their waddle into the marshes on land was a truly unique glance into the life of these little creatures that we felt privileged to experience.

From Phillip Island we drove southeast to Wilson’s Promontory National Park and the southernmost tip of mainland Australia. The tangibly fresher air, amazing scenery and extraordinarily abundant wildlife instantly gave us assurance that this roadtrip would allow us to scratch the surface of a very different face of Australia. Having climbed the summit of Mount Oberon, skinny dipped in the Bass Strait, crossed Squeaky Beach and ticked wild kangaroo, wallaby and wombat (a personal favorite!) sightings off our Aussie bucket list, we headed north to escape the rain.

A seven hour drive skirting the mountains of the Great Dividing Range – a journey the heavily laden Kia was all but fond of – took us to the Australian Capital Territory and Canberra. We stuck around just long enough to catch Pacquiao vs. Bradley II at a local sports bar and see the parliament building before driving on to Wollongong. Here we received an incredibly warm welcome and immediately felt at home in the company of Sandy, Chris, Rosie, Sully, Chad and everyone else. We stayed in the Gong for several days, properly soaking in the enthrallingly laid back lifestyle, before backtracking down the coast in order to catch a few of the stops we missed along the Grand Pacific Drive (most notable of these perhaps the famous blowholes of Kiama).

After Wollongong, we made an obligatory stop in Sydney for the Harbour Bridge walk, the beaches, the Opera House, kangaroo feeding, questionable Groupon teppanyaki, the Darling Harbour fireworks and for Sarah to experience the country’s tourist capital. A few days and a couple of close calls involving a tow truck and an Aboriginal burglar later, we were again on our way, almost happy to be seeing Sydney in the rear view mirrors.

Next on the agenda was our first attempt at proper camping life as we delved deep into the Hunter Valley wine country, complete with makeshift dripwater showers, firewood chopping, campfire cooking and plenty of time to throw around the frisbee. Strategically camped in tiny Broke within walking distance of a good handful of charming local wineries, we made absolutely sure to properly sample the local products (amazing reds, whites, vodkas, brandys and olives) on more than a few occasions.

Our thirst for alcoholic beverages momentarily quenched by the staggering amount of wineries and distilleries in the region, we continued our trek north, overnighting in a dozen peaceful little towns along the coast from Port Stephens, Anna Bay, Nelson Bay and Lemon Tree up to Kew, Port Macquerie, Coff’s Harbour and eventually Byron Bay. This stretch of our journey was characterized predominantly by a general sense of appreciation of being far from metropolitan Australia, and activities mostly revolved around discovering great fishing spots, sailing kayaks, bush trekking, campsite socializing, wildlife watching, local sightseeing and similar shenanigans that on occasion made me appreciate wholeheartedly my years as a boy scout.

After a couple of days of taking in the hippie dippy, vegan, gluten free, organic, lactose intolerant, crystal healing, pot smoking surferdude culture of Byron Bay, the easternmost point of Australia, we sojourned inland to traveler friendly Lismore. From there, after meeting up with Chris and Ira, we experienced alternative lifestyles taken to new extremes partaking in the Nimbin ‘Mardi GrasS’ – a quirky harvest festival fighting for the legalization and celebrating the merits of marijuana.

The tug of drug war, bong throwing and joint rolling competitions over with, we drove through the night crossing the New South Wales-Queensland border to reach posh party town Surfer’s Paradise on the Gold Coast. Here we met up with Quintin for some Queensland anecdotes over a local Four X Gold and reveled in the luxury of access to a warm shower. With some R&R, bushwalking and trippy funhouse visits in the books, we drove onwards to Brisbane to once again sync up with Chris and Ira. With nothing much to see in the Queensland capital, a few relaxing days of wine on the porch and a nearly disastrous boat trip took up all of our allotted time in Brissy.

On the Sunshine Coast and in Noosa north of Brisbane, we took advantage of our last shot at proper surfing before the reef. An amazing spot with plenty of waves and relatively shallow water had us both finally comprehending why so many fall so thoroughly in love with the activity. By the end we were by no means pro surfers, but were at least both able to comfortably stand up on the boards.

Some amazing fishing in Hervey Bay – the gateway to Fraser Island – was our next stop, but weather conditions (and an exorbitant tour price) prevented us from traversing the waters to visit the main attraction. The peculiarly iconic Australian polar (!) bear beckoned us to onwards to Bundaberg, as we honed in on the famous rum distillery for a sampling of the quintessentially Aussie beverage brand. After a security briefing to rival a visit to the White House and a tour of the facilities, we stole a hot shower at a nearby caravan park and settled into an awesome campsite on the Calliope River near Gladstone, south of Rockhampton. After another couple of days of throwing around the (American) football and lounging at various freecamps, we had a BBQ in Rockhampton (famous for its prime beef) before stocking up on long life groceries and podcasts in preparation for our journey into the outback proper.

Seemingly endless roads devoid of traffic merging with the horizon off in the distance, yellow savannah grass, bare mountainous rock and red desert sand as far as the eye can see, hours upon hours of scorching, uncompromising sun, vultures overhead and wild kangaroos, emus, snakes and lizards all around – THIS is the Australia that I travelled here to see! The enchanting serenity of the lonely freeway and the pure, harsh nothingness of regional Queensland, where sometimes towns (and petrol stations!) are 400 kilometers or more apart, has an uncanny appeal that I truly love and which has left a lasting impression on me. Our outback adventure began at Emerald and took us on a journey highly reminiscent of the Wild West along the Capricorn and Landsborough Highways through the towns of Alpha, Jericho, Barcaldine, Jundah and eventually Longreach.

On one particular stretch of road – the last bit from Barcaldine to Longreach – we learned first hand just exactly why Queenslanders generally don’t drive after dark in the barren far southwest. An unusually late start to the day had us caught in between potential campsites as darkness fell, with the GPS estimating arrival to around midnight. As time went on, minutes between wildlife sightings exponentially decreased – until minutes became seconds and eventually counting seconds became moot. The entire last hour of the drive had kangaroos (apparently chronically depressed and frantically suicidal creatures) permanently poised on both sides of the road, ready to end their lives by vaulting themselves at the headlights of our unsuspecting campervan. We saw literally hundreds of kangaroos on this stretch of road in as unquestionably an Australian outback experience as we could possibly have imagined. 

Inevitably, despite extreme care and a speed of approximately 40 km/hour, a wallaby eventually managed to hurl itself into our path. We pulled over and grabbed the hatchet, prepared to euthanize the poor thing. Luckily, however, the creature had escaped with a somewhat glancing blow and was able to hop off without staining our hands with the blood of the country’s national animal.
Finally arrived in Longreach, we checked out the local sights for a few days before heading southwest towards Windorah – gateway to the Simpson Desert, population 158.

As the hours passed on the developmental road towards Birdsville, the monotony of the desert landscape only broken by rare roadtrains carrying heavy loads from distant coal mines, the time spent compiling our roadtrip playlist proved a good investment. A full day of driving brought us to Windorah and our most remote outback destination. Here, we spent the night and went on to sink our feet into the red sand dunes that mark the edge of the great Simpson Desert before embarking on the return journey towards Longreach.

From here, it was time to continue northward for Winton and the dinosaur capital of Australia. En route, a rather serious misjudgment of road conditions had us backtracking almost a day’s worth of driving, as a 400 km abandoned dirt road proved impassable halfway through. Driving on razorsharp, fist-sized gravel in a heavy, 2-wheel driven vehicle off the beaten path, with no cell reception and no other human in a 100 mile radius, a flat tyre suddenly threatened potentially serious ramifications.

Turning in for a much needed beer and a bowl of bolognese at an outback pub on the way, we arrived in Winton the next day unscathed. A quirky little town halfway between Longreach and Hughenden, Winton is the proud birthplace of Waltzing Matilda (the unofficial Australian anthem) and a historic Mecca for past opal mining activities. However, we came here for other reasons, as it turns out this tiny village is also the most important stop on the Australian dinosaur trail, boasting the discovery of some of the largest dinosaurs to ever walk the Earth. With excavations still a work in progress, a walkthrough tour of the process of preparing the findings proved more impressive than the fossilized bones already on display. Before leaving the laboratory, we were allowed to touch the spine of a 100-something million years old Australian sauropod. Maybe it’s the hereditary affinity for archaeology (dad?) in me talking, but I found this pretty amazing.

In a blitz we passed though Hughenden and Charters Towers and before we knew it, we found ourselves back on the coast and back in civilization. Here we spent a couple of pleasant days in beautiful Townsville hiking mountains, swimming in the rockpools, visiting Magnetic Island and going horseback riding (and horseback swimming!!) before continuing ever north.

Overnighting in Mission Beach, Ingham, Innisfail and trekking to the Wallaman Falls (the longest single drop waterfall on the southern hemisphere) on the way, we finally arrived in Cairns after 55 days on the road to the warmest welcome we could have wished for in the Danish/Australian/Scottish/German household of Alex, Sash, Nigel and Anki.

Looking back, I can say now with confidence that the combination of living and working in metropolitan Melbourne and rural Penshurst, seeing Tasmania, roadtripping 10.000 kilometers through ever shifting terrains from Victoria to outback and coastal Queensland and getting in close contact with both nature and wildlife has proved to be as amazing an Australian experience as I could possibly have hoped for. Despite having seen so many different aspects of what the country has to offer, there is still so much left to explore - it is indeed no wonder that so many backpackers make the pilgrimage to this remote continent. For this traveller, however, left here is just one final, extremely important experience still to come – the Great Barrier Reef!

We are now residing in Cairns for the next 4 weeks as we attempt to replenish our empty coffers and plan the last leg of our journey. Next time we find ourselves in an airport, it will be the last time we travel east (New Zealand!) before, eventually, returning to the cold Scandinavian north.

PICTURES:

Pictures - Melbourne Chapter 3







Pictures - Outback




torsdag den 13. marts 2014

Day 195 (Melbourne, Penshurst, Rainbow Serpent, Tasmania)




It’s 10 AM on a brisk Thursday morning in March. I sleepily pour a steaming hot cup of (instant) coffee and sit down at the table in the massive space that serves as our kitchen and common room. Staring out the floor-to-ceiling sized windows past the apartment’s impressive balcony, I take in the incredible panorama of inner city Melbourne from the 17th floor of number 8 Downie Street. This view will never ever get old! As the sun slowly breaks through the cloud cover and the distant sounds of speeding racecars from the Australian Grand Prix reaches me from somewhere far below, I attempt to rewind and recount what’s happened since my last ‘confession’.

Two months have passed between now and my last update, and it’s safe to say that the last 60 days have flown by faster than any other stretch of time since I started my journey last year. Not entirely surprising, as time does tend to fly when you’re having fun (also, working full time might have had a certain influence on my perception of the passage of time).

Three weeks into the job, I temporarily substituted my title as Fundraising Team Leader for Affinity Social Enterprise with a 4-day stint working at a first aid station at the infamous Rainbow Serpent Festival near Lexton - located in the spectacular Victorian bush a few hours west of Melbourne. After hitching a ride to the festival grounds with a topless, bald, lesbian, vagina-tattooed, crystal therapy-certified mushroom fetishist hippie, I knew instantly that I was in for a rare treat! I can best describe the festival vibe as an alternative, miniature version of Danish Roskilde; except with a lot more chakra healing, organic permaculture workshops, ten times the hardcore drugs and exclusively 24-hour a day nonstop psychedelic trance music. Needless to say, I had my hands full making sure no acid tripping hippies got lost in the bush or died from Ketamine overdoses, heat strokes, epileptic seizures, twisted ankles or blistered feet. In between shifts and cleaning wounds, calling ambulances and restraining rampaging ravers on multiday benders - armed with a couple of boxes of goon and a pathetic, dingy and highly makeshift tent - I did manage to take part in my own share of the somewhat surreal psytrance festivities. Clocking out after four days in the bush, I was more than ready for a proper bed and a desperately necessary shower!

Back in civilization and another week into my fundraising gig, February kicked off with a much needed reprieve from a schedule far removed from the pace of backpacker life to which I had become accustomed (addicted?) before reaching Melbs. As Sarah flew into town (back to traveling after wrapping stuff up in Boston for a few weeks) and Tom took over my cot at Kara’s, we partnered up and relocated to Heidelberg Heights for a couple of days of AirBnB accommodation at Casa Mo. An interesting experience altogether dominated by our host’s absolutely overpowering ego and incessant, one-sided monologue (‘the world according to Mo and other indisputable facts’) revolving around everything and (mostly) nothing at all. 

After a few days of catching up, and catching a glimpse of the city from a northern suburbs vantage point, Sarah and I ventured far into Western Victoria to spend a week with Bill, Viv, Black Cat and Jess the dachshund in absolutely idyllic Penshurst near Hamilton and Warnambool. We’d volunteered to help out at the charming Stonefield Estate vineyard, helping prepare the grapevines, watering plants, cutting hedges and looking after the animals (cows, geese, peacocks, cat and dog).

After a few days of pleasant household duties, awesome barbeques and gratuitous amounts of locally grown red and white (which, incidentally, doesn’t go well in hand with attempting to catch a gimp-legged goose), we were left to simply housesit the estate while Bill and Viv went on an annual festival trip to the Grampians. Miles and miles away from everything and everyone, it’s hard to imagine a more peaceful place (once a solid truce had been established with the swarm of resident huntsman spiders) or a more magnificent night sky. As icing on the cake, Viv left behind her classy 1990 Ford Capri Convertible for us to cruise the Great Ocean Road and visit Port Fairy when a change of scenery was needed.

Having shifted down a couple of gears at the vineyard, returning to Melbourne and full time work was a rude awakening. Some intensive job training over goon and a bit of bus ride pitch practice later, Sarah was somewhat prepared to test her mettle as a fundraising doorknocker (I’d say the training went well, as it only took her about a week to be outperforming everyone at the company, myself included). Subsequently, a couple of pints with the manager upon reaching the city set the both of us up for the next 4 weeks of work with a combined 3 days off in between. Bunking over at ever helpful (read: life saving) Shane and Cate’s, the first week went by in a blur. All of a sudden, we found ourselves on a company paid flight to Hobart, Tasmania, for two full weeks of nonstop fundraising on the road.

A 12-bed hostel room is an interesting HQ for any sort of business venture. And with ten-hour work shifts, recruitment in the evening, peculiar parking facilities that required me to move our rental car 5 times a day, Asian kids in animal onesies cooking cup noodles in the room at 3 AM and similar backpacker life shenanigans as a lively backdrop for the job, we were hardly short on dull moments in Tassie. Hobart is a very pretty city, and if not for the ongoing exodus of most of the population below the age of 40, the spectacular views and extraordinary housing prices would make it a rather appealing place to live. There might be something to be said for the standing joke in Australia that Tasmanians are two-headed inbreds, though, as many of the locals we came across were a little… odd. However, plenty of friendly people among them, an intriguing visit to MONA and the Tasmanian Supreme Court, some extremely successful fundraising work and several excellent nights out in Hobart made the trip very enjoyable, albeit a tad exhausting.
Upon our return to Melbourne, first on the agenda was finding a proper place to live. We stayed for two nights at the boss’ house before Jamie (an awesome ‘lonesome spaceman’ I met at Rainbow Serpent) hosted us for a few days while we went apartment hunting. With a sauna, swimming pool, gym, massive balcony, central downtown location, 17th floor view of the city, friendly Asian housemates and no more than a month’s required commitment, it didn’t take us more than half a day of scoping out places before we unanimously agreed on our new home! Finally unpacking my backpack for the first time in 6 months was a very special moment – and the fact that this apartment is easily the coolest place I have ever called home isn’t curbing my enthusiasm.

All moved in, a champagne glass in hand overlooking the city night sky from the balcony, we quickly decided that we’d paid our dues to charity for now (156.000 Australian dollars raised between the two of us to be exact!), and that for the moment, two and a half months of fulltime work is plenty of time taken out of my backpacking itinerary.

Thus refocused and accommodation situation sorted, we turn our attention to getting the most out of Melbourne and the surrounding area while we’re here (many activities have been inaccessible while working 10 AM to 9 PM shifts 6 days a week), and to planning the next leg of our journey.

The agenda for the coming months is still in production, but so far the idea is to stay put until April 5 when the lease on the apartment is up, and from there begin our road trip up north, with Cairns (and a detour into the outback proper) as our ultimate goal.

From there, the ideal next step is New Zealand – to be continued!

lørdag den 18. januar 2014

Day 135 (Sydney, Wollongong, Melbourne)






In an attempt to escape the blistering 44 degree midday Melbourne sun, I sit down at a sizable internet café on Bourke Street at the outskirts of Chinatown.

I have already spent roughly a month in Australia, and I feel the time has come to type up a short report home and reflect a little bit on my experiences in Oz thus far.

My last update was written on the night before my departure from Suvarnabhumi, Bangkok, which now seems a lifetime ago and half a world away, and it’s safe to say that a lot has happened since leaving Siam.

Arriving in Sydney on December 10, one thing above all is immediately apparent; I am not in Asia anymore! Not so much because of the absence of Asians – the city is as multicultural as they come – but because of the prohibitively expensive 35$ -a-night 12-bed hostel dorms that instantly threaten to swallow up what little is left of my already thinly stretched backpacker budget. That, and the fact that my flip flop island wardrobe feels immensely out of place amongst the ‘business casual’ attired Australians of the inner city. 

With all the practicalities of SIM card, tax file number, money transfer and banking details taken care of, I decide to pay Sydney its due, see the mandatory sights, get a feel for the city and hang with the backpacker crowd in two different hostels for a few days before moving south.

Aussie barbeques in the park, plenty of ‘goon’ (cheap but horrendous 4 liter box wines), the Opera House, museums, a tour of the city, Darling Harbour, wildlife reservations and the obligatory close quarter encounters with koalas, kangaroos and wombats, the magnificent Blue Mountains, a river cruise, the famous Sydney beaches and a reunion with Thailand travel buddies were among the activities I managed to pack into my stay.

With the express version of Sydney sightseeing behind me, I journey southward to unassuming Wollongong (yes, they named a city that) to visit Sandy, an awesome Aussie acquaintance made through Irish Saint Patrick’s Day festivities in Aarhus – where else! ‘The Gong’ is quiet, charming and quintessentially ‘surfer dude’, and my introduction to the immediate circle of friends has me drawing a couple of quick conclusions: Australians truly are a generally laid back, welcoming and friendly bunch. Sharehousing here is an awesome and readily available accommodation option that allows for plenty of good times to be had just hanging out at home. Aussies are very health and lifestyle conscious people. Sports is big. So is an emphasis on having fun and not taking things too seriously. And Australian is a language aaall of its own, and it is [expletive] hard for normal people to understand!

I spend a couple of days hanging out and taking it easy, suburban style, with morning and afternoon swims, home cooked dinners (and home brewed beer!) and one absolutely epic mountain trek-turned-leech-infested-jungle-survival-expedition beelining it straight to Point Sublime for perhaps the best view Oz has offered me thus far.

With Christmas rapidly approaching, I travel onwards to Melbourne, ‘Straya’s capital of diversity, coffee, AFL and hipsters, and am invited (read: invite myself) into the home of awesome Bruneian-Malaysian Melbournian, tarot card reading PhD student Janet for my first ever CouchSurfing experience outside of my own apartment. Janet is kind enough to show me the ropes around town (including some seriously wicked bars in Fitzroy and the CBD) and to let me make her couch in North Melbourne my base of operations for sliightly longer than the prearranged two day sleepover.

For obvious reasons – blue skies, 40 degree heat and the absence of family among them – Christmas is a different animal altogether Down Under. A pre-Christmas BBQ and beers in the sun at Shane and Cate’s place in Thornbury (friends from Vietnam!) is warmup for a rather alternative Xmas potluck with Janet and pals (I am one of two people at the party who do not hold or is in the progress of getting a PhD degree). Most of Christmas day is spent in a stupor, followed by a trip to the beach and rendezvous with trekbuddy Luisa from the volcano climb in Indonesia.

As Janet leaves Melbs for a vacation in Fiji, born and bred Melbournian Kara generously offers me shelter at her house in Hampton, deep into the cold dark of infamously provincial and far remote Zone 2. Fully prepared to not be on the move for a little while, and with introductions to Aussie rules beer pong, house parties, soccer square, Victoria Bitter galore and a somewhat intricate public transit system squared away, I begin to settle into my awkward version of the Australian way of life.

As always, my birthday squeezes its way into an already action packed schedule between Christmas and New Years, and a combination of good company, plenty of Bloody Maries and a plethora of heartwarming greetings from both home and abroad makes for an absolutely astounding day that has me feeling extraordinarily grateful for my wonderful family and all the amazing people I call my friends.

I am ruthlessly denied full appreciation of a fantastic Chadstone New Year’s party through total incapacitation by means of vodka and subsequent head trauma. Alcohol, soccer square and concrete driveways don’t mix, evidently. The rookie mistake lands me a start to 2014 equipped with a pretty full on concussion, some decent bruises, a pinched back nerve, short term amnesia, a few visits to the doctor’s office and plenty of resolve to decide on a limited alcohol January.

A couple of successful job interviews before New Year’s has set me up for me a pretty rough deal, starting work on January 2 both hung over, concussed and in somewhat of a daze. The next two weeks are a complete blur as I simultaneously recover my faculties and hit the ground running as full time charity fundraiser for the Fred Hollows Foundation (eliminating blindness worldwide, one eye operation at a time). Working 12:00-20:30 with a 2-hour bus-train-walk commute in each direction, my days are pretty much work-work. But life as a commission only independent contract doorknocker is something entirely new and surprisingly challenging, and although it’s hardly bounty beaches and spectacular volcano vistas, the experience is highly interesting and offers sufficient potential for progression to keep me sticking with it for a while. Turns out I have sort of a knack for the gig, and as of the coming Monday I’ll be heading to the office as team leader for a freshly established division of the company. Definitely a complete and wholly different way to ‘travel’, but in many ways none the less rewarding than my previous months of proper exploration (- and in a strictly financial sense, much more so!)

The immediate future holds a fair deal of ‘same-same but different’, with the most significant disruption of the status quo a much needed vineyard vacation in early Feb and a subsequent change of accommodation, as a rent-paying tenant puts an end to my squatting occupation of Kara’s walk-in closet and takes over my much appreciated IKEA cot.

Thus up to speed and updated on the current state of affairs – sort of anyway – I offer you a probably relatively confusing visual perspective of my journey through Terra Australis up to this point. Admittedly, as I start feeling less and less like a tourist, I regret to have come to the realization that I haven’t been wielding my camera as meticulously, proficiently or as often as I would have liked since arriving – many apologies!




tirsdag den 10. december 2013

Day 100 (Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore and Southern Thailand)



At the time of this writing, I have only recently returned to my neat little airport hotel near Suvarnabhumi International from a short trip into central Bangkok. I am sitting at the minimalist desk of my surprisingly comfortable budget room, having just opened a can of Leo from the minibar (which by the way is vastly superior to both Singha and Chang, the other two thirds of the holy trinity of Thai beers). My objective is to attempt to capture the essence of the last month in writing, and I am having a hard time figuring out where to begin and what to include.

I posted my last update roughly 35 days ago upon leaving Japan, and I absolutely cannot comprehend that I am already at day 100 of this legitimately epic journey. The last update marked the end of any kind of preplanned itinerary, and I have been navigating Asia day by day ever since - a strategy that, for better or worse, seems destined to be employed for the next part of my travels as well.

So what have I been up to? Well, I left Kansai International Airport in Japan on November 4th headed via Malaysia for Bangkok and my flight to Australia. But I decided at the last minute that I wasn't quite done with Asia yet, and proceeded to grab my luggage at the layover in Malaysia, ditch my flight to Thailand and postpone my trip to Oz.

So there I was in Kuala Lumpur! I decided to quickly get to know the city by exploring train and monorail routes and walking down every backalley I could find. This approach provided me with a plethora of impressions and a fairly good understanding of how to navigate the Malaysian capital - but it also gave me a glimpse of the huge inequality that will always characterize the city in my mind after this visit;  from little girls sifting through trash in the street in the reeking alleyways of Bukit Bintang to massive upscale malls and white collar businessmen paying Danish-level prices for Carlsberg pints at comfortable bars overlooking dancing fountains at KLCC. (Not to mention the episode where a woman who approached me in Bukit Bintang to offer a massage was brutally beat down, handcuffed and violently dragged off by civillian police right in front of me within minutes of arriving in Malaysia).

The makeup of the Malaysian population is quite unique and definitely worthy of mention, as the combination of native Malay, Indian and Chinese ethnic groups as well as the predominantly Muslim religious community creates a distinct culture, cuisine and athmosphere that is very unique. An interesting contrast that made Malaysia feel noticeably different.

After several days of exploration, pubcrawling, visiting old friends now based in KL and seeing the sights (Petronas Towers, the malls, the Batu caves, thieving monkeys etc.) the lure of trying my luck at surfing and simply being near water (KL is HOT) pursuaded me to move on and meet up with some awesome Americans I had met in Chaing Mai in Thailand about a month earlier.

So I booked a 50 dollar AirAsia flight to Denpasar, Indonesia and found myself in a (hilariously terrible) guesthouse in Kuta on Bali the next day!  

Now, as anyone who's been to Bali will undoubtedly know, Kuta is the Australian spring breakers binge drinking paradise, and between the incredibly narrow, crowded, noisy streets (even by Asian standards) and the drunken, drug-infused nonstop madness of Legian Road, there's only so much time one can spend in the area before needing to leg it out of there. So after a couple of days of adjusting to Balinese culture (and climate!), taking surfing lessons and  somewhat unsuccessfully attempting to keep up with magic mushroom consuming Aussie nightclubbers, the tranquility of charming Ubud north of Kuta was a welcome change of pace. I took some boxing lessons (at Indonesian pro Chris John's old gym, for the aficionados), rented a motorbike and drove through the rice fields, visited coffee plantations for a taste of the local nectar, bathed with local Hindus in cleansing waterfalls, saw the spectacular views of mount Batur and the lake and stubbornly defied torrential rainfalls on the back of my little scooter.

I then joined forces with Bostonians Sarah and Hillary for some surfing, drinks, a perilous journey through the monkey forest and eventually relocation to the island of Lombok. After a tremendously enjoyable full day of exploring small villages and massive waterfalls along the northern coast by motorbike, Sarah and I took on the challenge of scaling the crater rim of Mount Rinjani, the second tallest active vulcano in Indonesia, while Hillary had to settle for a healthy dose of island paradise as treatment for her injured ankle.

The massive trek up the imposing vulcano easily proved to be one of the most challenging yet rewarding experiences of my trip thus far - in spite of me being wholly unprepared for an impressively taxing descent and for the frigid temperatures during the night at the top that neither our pitiful tent nor any amount of Johnnie Walker could do anything to stave off. Absolutely spectacular views, great campfire food and awesome trekking buddies made our ascent unforgettable!

As we returned to Senggigi on the west coast, exhausted but in good spirits, we were prepared for some days of relaxation. And oohh how the Gili Islands off the coast of Lombok (where no motorized vehicles exist and the view in every direction resembles a scene from a hybrid between Lost and The Lord of the Rings) delivered. A couple of days of partying, gorging on amazing food, snorkeling, diving, bicycling, sleeeping, lounging at amazing Le Petit Guesthouse and just enjoying the sun, the spectacular views and the silence later we were rejuvenated enough to move on.

A short sojourn to Seminyak, a visit to Potato Head infinity pool, some spectacular gluten free cuisine (traveling with a wheat-intolerant companion makes ordering non-lethal food in Asia a challenge!) and a full night's sleep under a mosquito net on the floor of the outdoor Denpasar Airport prepared us for our early morning flight back into Kuala Lumpur. Checked in at the Reggae Guesthouse, walks through Bukit Bintang, Little India, Chinatown and KLCC, shopping malls, the cinema, the Pacquiao fight at Phillippino dominated Havana bar as well as - a recurring theme - great food were highlights of the first couple of days back in the Malaysian capital. After a visit to the impressive National Mosque (combined with an hourlong Islamic recruitment speach from the resident preacher, complete with handout brochures on Holy Jihad and monogamy), we met up with Huu, Roe, Steph and Julie for another pubcrawl before leaving by bus to Malacca the next day.

After biking around the city, 'enjoying' the sobering smell of the myriad durian bakeries and exploring the rich history of this trade port and its Portuguese, Dutch, British, Arab, Chinese and Indian influences, uncle Steve hooked us up with local acquaintance Tan. Tan generously showed us around and invited us to join him for a Japanese feast of epic proportions with his friends to complete our visit.

Next up was Singapore, by way of the most luxurious busride I have ever experienced - undoubtedly the most expensive as well, considering the fact that the busdriver took the liberty of robbing 100$ from my backpack while we went through immigration.

I have been to a lot of cities with impressive skylines, from New York to Dubai, Tokyo and Kuala Lumpur to name a few, but Singaporean architecture still absolutely blew me away. Between the science fiction-like Marina Bay Sands, the futuristic Helix bridge, the elevated gardens and the countless luxury hotels, arenas and office skyscrapers, the city truly is something to behold - especially so at night. And not surprisingly, it is particularly impressive from the top of the unreal Skypark hovering above the marina.

Having explored the city by foot and metro, splurged on a day in Universal Studios and stretched our backpacker budgets to their limits spending Singapore dollars for a couple of days, we took a turbulent flight into Krabi. A couple of days in sleepy resort town Ao Nang, a (negative!) malaria checkup and some days of being sick, sea kayaking along impressive coastal cliffs and caves to Railay beach, massages, chilling out and, naturally, awesome food characterized the first days of our return to Thailand.

From Krabi Town we took the ferry to infamous Koh Phi Phi, which, admittedly, is undeniably breathtaking regardless of all the hype. Homemade Sangsom buckets, beer pong, a free for all boxing ring where drunk people can volunteer (or be peer pressured) to beat each other up for 3 rounds without mouthguards made the first day on Phi Phi Don a very memorable experience
(a both fascinatingly brilliant and outragously stupid concept by the way). Fantastic scenery, massages on the beach, hookahs, fire shows, a longtail boat to Phi Phi Leh, the famous Maya ('Dicaprio') Beach and snorkeling with a billion frenzied fish highlighted the remainder of our time on the island.

Our onward flight dates rapidly approaching, we made our way to Patong in Phuket where we took a short Muay Thai boxing lesson and attempted to get as much of an impression of what Phuket has to offer as our very limited time there would allow. On December 6th, an overnight VIP bus took us the 12 hours back up to Bangkok, where we managed to start the day with a couple of hours at massive Chatuchak market. Still much deprived of sleep following the arduous journey from the south, I saw Sarah off to the airport for her flight back to Boston in the evening, marking the end of an extraordinary couple of weeks taking on Asia as a team. This was yesterday, and I am still adjusting to the thought of being back to backpacking on my own (having been able to tag team the decision making and planning process for a while has been a pleasant change - and arriving in Sydney with no game plan is likely to require a lot of quick decisions!).

I have done a poor job of keeping everyone in the loop for the last couple of weeks (to be fair, Asian internet connections make this somewhat of an ordeal), and to compensate I have attempted to be as thorough as possible in recounting my exploits this time around. However, reading through the above I quickly realize that I will never come close to capturing even a fraction of the events, experiences and impressions that travelling in this way has to offer - but it's a start!

(Before uploading this, my curiosity managed to get me caught up in the Bangkok Protests that ultimately led the current prime minister of Thailand to call for an election following accusations of corruption - a very interesting experience for my last day in the country!)

Next on my agenda is Sydney - I arrive on December 10 without accommodation or an immediate itinerary other than the intention to move on to Melbourne before Christmas. The next couple of weeks will be intriguing indeed - wish me luck! :D

Pictures, Malaysia: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152311657767262.1073741847.649632261&type=1&l=68315e88c3

Pictures, Indonesia: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152311666917262.1073741848.649632261&type=1&l=0f53da4c3f


Pictures, Gili Islands: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152311689857262.1073741849.649632261&type=1&l=79869ef9e3

Pictures, Malaysia revisited: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152311693722262.1073741850.649632261&type=1&l=397d636f5d

Pictures, Singapore: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152311701622262.1073741851.649632261&type=1&l=46efb48729

Pictures, Southern Thailand: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152311706827262.1073741852.649632261&type=1&l=84b6f089bc

onsdag den 6. november 2013

Day 65 (Japan)



Since my last update I have survived the madness of the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan (I'll let those pictures speak for themselves) and ventured north east to explore the areas around Tokyo and Kansai, Japan.

Japan... Aahh Japan! My now unfathomly rapid journey through this magnificent country has been a whirlwind of impressions, emotions, confusion, clarity, tranquility, contrasts and harmony.

Japan is tall skyscrapers and idyllic countryside, frantic labor and quiet zen, lightning fast Shinkansen and peaceful village strolls, high pitched and low key, incredibly formal and down to earth, foreign and familiar, spiritual and mundane, sacred and profane, high tech and primitive, Western and Asian, endearing and repulsive, reasonable and mad and oftentimes just downright odd - but most of all, Japan is distinctly, charmingly and uniquely Japanese.

Arriving in Tokyo I was for the first time on this journey truly inconvenienced by the fact that I am travelling alone, for one single reason; I immediately found myself turning towards the first person next to me every 5 minutes with the desire to go "did you just fucking SEE that!??", only to repeatedly find a Japanese person with no English capabilities wholly unimpressed by whatever mind boggling situation had caught my attention.

This inconvenience was quickly forgotten though, as I have been accompanied by incredible friends both new and old throughout my visit - all of whom I owe a great debt of gratitude and cannot wait to revisit.

Japan is an incredible Mecca for anyone intrigued by foreign cultures, and the impressions with which I have been bombarded over the past weeks are simply too numerous to adequately recount. The cultural differences between here and South East Asia, let alone Europe, are vast, and most immediately apparent is the fact that very many Japanese don't speak any English. And I mean *ANY* English. Add to that the interesting conundrum that in a society as modern as the Japanese, most signs, bulletins, menus etc. are written only in Kanji, and you have a formidable communicative challenge on your hands. A 15 minute instructional monologue from the receptionist at my day 1 hotel in Tokyo, of which I understood approximately 0%, was the first clear indication that I would come to truly appreciate the help of my Japanese companions in the following days.

The second thing that struck me was how the Japanese, unlike, say, the Cambodians, are very wary of being approached in the street and seem initially reserved to a degree almost comparable to northern Europeans. However, once the ice is broken and they're convinced you're not about to stab them, complete strangers will walk with you for 15 minutes at night in the opposite direction to make sure you catch your train or find your hotel, generously offer you gifts, eagerly practice their limited English vocabulary and happily praise your pitiful attempts at Japanese pronunciation.

The third major difference - quite possibly the best of all - was the noticeable absence of Western tourists! Not once have I spoken to a foreigner in my travels from Tokyo through to Nara (which is a definite first for the 5 countries visited on my itinerary so far), and although gap year backpackers are an awesome crowd for the most part, this has been a very pleasant surprise.

In the past weeks I have seen crazed businessmen dance with glowsticks in maidbars in Akihabara's Electric City, I have played Street Fighter like it's meant to be played in 8 story SEGA arcades, said a prayer at Sensoji temple and ascended the towering Skytree in Asakusa, shared beers with the locals of strange little bars in Nihonbashi, walked around the expensive shopping district of Ginza, consumed the best sushi known to man in Tsukiji, slept in space capsules and peeked into positively strange 'girl bars' in the red light district of Shinjuku, partied with the young Tokyolites in Shibuja, gone moonlight hiking in the parks and paid a visit to the last samurai in Ueno and strolled through the streets of Harajuku. I have explored Yokohama and the Kirin brewery on foot (with a little help from my excellent personal tour guide - and errr... Google Maps! ;D ), slept in kimonos on tatami mats in a traditional ryokan and visited the temples and Japanese gardens of Kyoto. I have sung karaoke with 60-year old izakaya regulars, celebrated Halloween in Osaka's Dotonburi with the most impressively dressed up crowd I have ever seen, hung out in 24-hour manga comic cafés, established a personal fan club of Japanese high school girls in Universal Studios, been invited into Japanese homes, been attacked by angry deer and subjected myself to (excruciatingly painful) zazen meditation in Nara. I have gorged myself in criminal amounts of sushi, sashimi, ramen, udon, somen, tokoyaki, yakitori, okonomiyaki, hakozushi, tempura, soba, mizo, mochi and other extraordinary dishes I never properly learned the names of. I have had the pleasure of sharing gratuitous amounts of Japanese beer and amazing sake with fantastic people and have picked up just enough Japanese to be able to get through a meal without offending the host - and so much more that for the first time in my life I have begun keeping a small diary to avoid forgetting all the details.

Perhaps most importantly, I have thoroughly enjoyed every second of my adventures in this enchanting foreign land and am, once again, sitting here at the airport, wondering why on earth I am about to leave. Fortunately, nothing prevents me from eventually returning (except perhaps the red number column on my mobile banking app, because as my bank lady would diligently point out, Japan is not Cambodia), and hopefully my next destination has something even just half as fascinating to offer!

Thanks for now Japan, and see you soon!

----

I have now been travelling for more than two months, and am more or less at the end of the itinerary I planned out in advance from home. If I were to  be broke and go home tomorrow, everything I have experienced in the past 65 days would already have made all the preparations and all the money spent far more than worth it. However, I still have about 10 months to go! Whatever comes beyond this point is pure (and very ill researched) improvisation. Wish me luck! :D


PICTURES (Full Moon and Koh Phangan): https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152219983682262.1073741839.649632261&type=1&l=14bf046029

PICTURES (Tokyo and Yokohama): https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152220006192262.1073741841.649632261&type=1&l=3659917891

PICTURES (Kyoto and Osaka): https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152220061827262.1073741843.649632261&type=1&l=1ab6c81474

PICTURES (Nara): https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152220097457262.1073741845.649632261&type=1&l=69901c9817