A three week adventure around Viet Nam.

“Peter! Listen to me, I need a taxi!” my beloved wife said sternly to me.
My Response: “I can’t find a taxi! It’s not my fault there are none around, don’t get narky with me”.
Her Response: “I’m not getting narky; you’re bloody lost and can’t admit it”.
My Response: “I’m not lost, I know where we are, and the map doesn’t lie” (Apparently it does).
Her Response: “The man back there said we were lost and you told him he was wrong”.
My Response: “What do you want me to do then?”
Her Response: “Well, I’m going to ask the person over there to call a taxi!”
My Response: “Nic, she doesn’t speak English and we don’t speak Vietnamese”.
Her Response: “arhhhh you’re so frustrating”
My Response: “you’re so frustrating”.
My Response: “Nic don’t cry, it won’t help us”

Yes my dear readers, Niki and I were having an expedition into our first marital argument whilst lost in the quiet suburbs of Hoi An. Today, Vietnam decided to throw everything as us and we fell to our knees.

Rule No. 6 of being married – Don’t tell your wife not to cry, because it probably your fault that she is in the first place.

Niki and I were feeling a little stressed this morning and for good reason, we had just spent 12 hours on an overnight train from Sapa arriving into Hanoi at 4am, before jumping onto a plane bound for Danang, then catching a taxi to the local bus station to jump on the most horned obsessed crazy local bus we have ever travelled on. After stopping and starting for over an hour, we then walked 3 kms into the remote suburbs, the complete opposite direction to our hotel all whilst swimming in 38 degree heat with our huge packs on. Needless to say, things were getting a little heated between us. Now being a man, I take full responsibility… and blame it on my guide book for not telling me there was a second bus stop, which incidentally is where we were dropped off. And due to this reason it was no way my fault for Niki and I being lost. Yes, I told the local man who was trying to help me he was wrong, but that’s the benefit of hindsight.

So when I finally found our way, with Niki close to tears, sweat pouring off her from the ridiculously hot walk, me steaming that I was lost, Niki did the only normal thing to do upon entry to a hotel – she fainted! It was no little “Peter I don’t feel so good”, drop to the floor type of faint, it was a climbing up the steps to inspect our room type of faint. One of those moments when I get to chance to act out my Doctor fantasy’s and yell out “we need water here stat! And Nurse mop my brow”.  I’ve never seen so many hotel staff run around before and as she gained consciousness again, I quickly stuck my head in the room, said it looks great and hurried Niki onto the bed. For the next 4 days, everyone would  make sure Niki was treated like a Queen.

The Phuoc An Hotel was one of the best budget hotel’s I stayed in in Vietnam, if not the best. The staff were genuinely friendly and all gave excellent service, the rooms were immaculate, the breakfast great and of course free bikes into the town was an added bonus. I would highly recommend you staying here.

This was also about the time in our trip that my battle with Giardia finally stopped me in my tracks, I couldn’t move anymore without feeling sick, falling over due to severe cramps and running to the toilet. It was to the point that I needed to get medication, admit myself to Hospital or take out my pocket knife and slice out my bowel – I preferred the medication option. So after Niki was feeling a bit better we hurried down to the local chemist to get some antibiotics to nuke my bowels.

We needed Tinidazole and we knew we could get it over the counter, but not before a game of charades to explain my symptoms. With six people involved and a lot of hand gestures we finally got our message across with the help of a friendly lady who walked in off the street. Who then, with me obviously just explaining my severe problems and sense of urgency as I was holding on for dear life, said “do you want to come down to my Sister’s tailor shop”. Which I politely smiled and said “Umm not right now, I need to go back to bed”. Obviously not letting go that easy and here I thought I might get leniency as I was dying, she said “It won’t take long”.  Which I apologetically responded “Sorry, but it won’t take me long till I burst” and with that I run back to the hotel to sleep for the next 24 hours. The adventures into Hoi An would have to wait for another day and needless to say, things were just warming up…

The Word for Today

Giardia (noun): A common traveler’s illness caused by a not so friendly bacteria or protozoa. Symptoms include nausea, diarrhea, cramps, vomiting, fever, flushes and everything else that’s similar to malaria.

My tour bus driver has just been arrested…this was going to be one of those days. That’s what I’ve loved about Vietnam so far, its ability to throw a curve ball and sometimes you duck and miss it, other times it hits you square in the face. Today Niki and I joined a tour which we purchased through et-pumpkin to the majestic, mystical, mighty, magical and any other descriptive word starting with M, Halong Bay. About 3 hours from Hanoi, this world heritage listed site is known for its thousands of giant karsts and islands that dot this secluded bay. This was one of our honeymoon treats; however the local police had different ideas.

See, we were picked up in a mini van, yes a rather large minivan, but nevertheless a minivan. Unfortunately though the local police viewed our transport as a small bus rather than a large minivan and promptly arrested the bus driver for driving a “bus” through the old quarter of Hanoi. Apparently there are laws regarding this. So as a small army, *cough*, sorry police truck rocked up, a couple of guards got out and told the driver to drive down the road to the station and hand himself in.  So he did. An hour later, not having even left Hanoi, we found ourselves still sitting in our large minivan watching our poor driver making dozens of phone calls, sorting out a bribe, *cough*, sorry a fine, being reprimanded for his mistaken confusion that his minibus was in fact a bus, with this all concluding with our driver jumping back in the van as if nothing happened and continuing along our way to Halong Bay.

The drive was pretty straight forward by Vietnamese standards, with a rest stop at the Humanity Centre. What, you’ve never heard of a Humanity Centre? Well, if you think it’s a place where good people, do good deeds, to help people in need, you would be absolutely wrong! It was a pottery and souvenir house, because “the only way to save humanity is to put a big arse statue in your garden”. I’m still not sure how we would get any of those statues home.

Arriving at the pier in Halong Bay to board our beautiful teak Junk was an exciting moment. I felt like I was a pirate boarding a mighty vessel to drink some rum and find me some loot. When I turned to Niki and went “arhhhhh me lady, heave the sails, stow the rum, lock up the whores and get me some rum” she simply said “I’m not with you and walk away”. I dropped my head in disappointment; I hadn’t even shown her my eye patch yet!

We were joining the crew of the Halong Phoenix Cruiser, an opulent teak Junk big enough to fit about 25 people on board. We chose this boat as it was a good price at $100US per person, was small enough that it didn’t feel like a party boat yet big enough that you could have a good chat with people. Once we received the welcome spiel and our complementary fruity drink, we were assigned to our cabins.  Our a/c cabin was honestly amazing, with beautiful teak furnishings, an oriental atmosphere, a marble bathroom and a big 4 pane window that opened onto the bay. This was truly the way to sail and I felt like I had just added a tick to my list of things to do before I die. Looking at the other boats sailing by, ours was easily the most impressive and elegant.

After lunch, which had never ending delicious food, Nic and I decided to go kayaking. Let me get this right out from the start:-

Rule No. 3 of being married – Give your wife her own Kayak

Okay, so Nic and I have a rather turbulent history when it comes to Kayaking, some may even say explosive, the word apocalyptic also comes to mind. See a year before we went to Laos and kayaked down the Mekong in a double kayak. The person in front controls the pace, the person behind controls the steering, or something like that. In this simple setup is where it all falls apart us – both of us want to steer and both of us want to set the pace. In the confusion we go no where, paddles start flying all over the place, insults start getting thrown around, a misguided paddle hits my head, water gets thrown at Niki and inevitably we both sit there saying nothing, sulking and seething whilst we get closer and closer to hitting a whole heap of rocks. Needless to say Halong Bay was no different. However getting past our wedded bliss, the kayaking was truly mesmerising and tranquil as you slowly passed local water villages, spiritual grottos and colourful birds fluttering around the karsts.

The rest of the afternoon was spent swimming and jumping off from the top level on the Junk, which isn’t for the faint hearted. I was living out every pirate and lost on a tropical island fantasy I’ve ever had. That is until I lost my balance as I was jumping from the top deck and landed sideways in the water. All I remember as I fell sideways was “shit, this wasn’t the way I was meant to die”. Nursing a few sore ribs, the evening finished off with Niki sipping a perfect G&T, and I a whisky and coke whilst lying on the sundeck watching the Milky Way go round. This was what travel was all about and I felt truly relaxed for the first time in a year. Moored under giant karsts, we went to sleep with the windows wide open and a soft breeze slowing rocking us to sleep.

If you get the chance, this is a MUST in Vietnam. We booked our tour through et-pumpkin; however Vietnam Ocean tours has some good deals and packages as well. Both their offices are located next to each other in Hanoi.

The Word for Today

Junk (Noun): A Chinese or Vietnamese boat usually built from teak or other timber materials. A truly oriental way to travel the seas.

Vietnam (Cheap Country Guide)

A three week adventure around Viet Nam.

I was beaten, destroyed to the core and past the point of no return. I was exhausted, shattered, cracked, smashed, distort, deranged, confused, broken, in pain and ruined – and that’s just the travellers diarrhea! I haven’t even started to tell you about the way I felt after an obscenely long hike through Sapa’s remote wilderness. The day before, Nic and I had talked with the hostel manager and booked a day hike through remote villages and wilderness. Before his recommendation on which tour we should do, he simply asked “are you fit?” I strongly responded in my gladiator stance “I’m fit enough to carry a small ox”, he must of been in awe at my sheer adventure man attitude that he didn’t hear Niki say “no, not really, I just want a easy walk through some local villages and rice paddies”. 15kms into our intense 28km trek the next day, Niki flopped onto a rock, her eyes confirming that our marriage was being tested for the first time. I didn’t dare tell her that I just confirmed with our guide that with the exception of climbing Mt Fansipan, this is the hardest trek in the region. I was going to kill the hostel owner if I ever saw him again!

Trekking, we started the morning meeting our Hmong guide, a young lady by the name of Xo.  After the introductions our motorbikes arrived and we jumped on and started our day’s tour. We weaved high up into the mountains on this chilly wet morning, the wind in our hair, cascading waterfalls in the distance and a happy wife, I felt  raw adventure pumping through my veins. This was what I wanted, no mass tours or well trodden paths, a real off the beaten experience. After 20mins we arrived into the mighty Tram Ton Pass, also known as Heavens Gate. Unfortunately though, heaven had blanketed the whole area with fog to keep the secret from us. So after a disappointing start we headed back down the pass to the Silver Waterfalls. With recent rains the waterfalls were flowing at full strength whilst falling from an incredible height. Getting a few romantic photographs in our wet weather gear, Nic then wandered off to find a bathroom – she would come back a changed women, never able to bring the strength to talk about her experience with the toilet, she has since developed a nervous twitch in her left eye when approaching an Asian bathroom.

After the Silver Waterfalls we headed to the starting point of our hike – the local rubbish tip! Arriving here I was a little shocked, this wasn’t exactly the perfect picturesque start I thought of, the second thought was we were about to be murdered and our dead bodies dumped here. We jumped off our bikes and watched our riders ride off in the distance. We then watched our guide simply walk to the edge of the ridge we were on and simply disappear down a  very sleep track leading down a rivine – game on! The first part of our trek was 2 hours straight down the side of the ridge. The track was slippery, muddy, incredibly steep and full of leaches. Climbing through prickly plants, over logs and fending of giant lost in time mosquitoes. As we hiked Xo explained the various plant varieties and what the Hmong traditionally used them for; from medicinal reasons to cooking. It was an amazing ecotourism experience. When the first leach of the day took hold of Xo’s ankle she gave a mighty squeal, even the strongest people have their weakness. This wouldn’t be last of the little blood suckers. We passed slowly down the mountainside, passing buffalo, livestock and local village children playing or working. At one point we came across six kids just sitting on buffalo and herding cows. At which point I turned to Xo and asked one of the dumbest questions I have ever asked anyone in my life – “What’s the difference between a cow and a buffalo?”  She gave me a look of are you kidding me and Niki adding to it “Peter, are you serious? Can’t you tell?” Xo simply said whilst laughing, “Horns”. Hmmm that wasn’t the best impression I could give her of Australians.

We stopped at a small waterfall for lunch at the bottom of the mountain. Niki was showing tiredness from the hard walk, however was still full of optimism. After we finished, Xo pointed to a long winding road up the side of a tall mountain in the distance, this was where we were heading. Niki gulped and then made the most fatal mistake of any trekker, she asked how much longer? When Xo responded “about 4 hours, with 3 hours going continually up “, I saw her optimism fall, it wasn’t til about 3 minutes later when she realised that she couldn’t turn back that I saw the last bit of hope leave her body. She was in it for the long haul and there was no going back, no matter how hard she tried to escape from the inevidable climb ahead. I could see in her eyes, this wasn’t want she expected when she said “I want an easy walk”. I could see in eyes that she was going to find away to blame me for this.

The next three hours was a gruelling climb following ridge after ridge after ridge. We passed the most amazing views of wide deep valleys, with dotted corn crops and chiseled rice paddies. We hiked through small villages with basic infrastructure and charming people. It felt like spring, with baby pigs, puppies, calves and chickens everywhere. The piglets were easily our favourite. Half way through our trip we came across a stranded calf calling for its mother, however she was no where to be seen. It was saddening to know this calf would die if help didn’t arrive. About 10 minutes down the track we came across an incredible site, a child on a buffalo calling to the calf and getting a response. The small boy was communicating with his animals, it was a touching moment. After 2 hours and intense sun, Niki finally hit her wall. She sat down on her rock and rested. On the edge of her physical limits, it was all down to her will to go on. She had asked earlier on the day “who would help me if I hurt myself?” the response “no help, don’t hurt yourself”. My beloved wife knew she had to keep going, so after a random piece of cucumber for energy, she got back up and kept on trotting.

Rule No. 5 of being married – Don’t take your wife on a 28km hike for your honeymoon, its not considered romantic.

We finally climbed down the final ridge into the village of Ta Phin. Not before passing through an area that Jo said “move quickly I smell snake”, there was no need to tell me twice. We arrived in this quaint village destroyed, sore and limping as if we had just done a 14 day trek. Ta Phin was stunning! We passed other tourist who had arrived by car into the village, they gave us one of two looks; the first one of ultimate awe that we had hiked this far or secondly, why would you do that you sadistic people? On arrival into a small Dzao home, a relaxing warm medicinal bath was waiting for us in barrels. The saviour for our aching muscles. After the cool down, we jumped back on our bikes and headed back to Sapa. Our hostel manager was egerly waiting out front for our return, I was ready to explain to him the difference of an easy hike and a bloody hard hike, instead Nic and I both got off our bikes and told him that was one of the best hikes we had ever done. His response “That’s great, I can now sell it to other travellers. Your the first tourists to do that trek since it was reopened, it’s been closed for a long time due to dangerous political issues”. With that, we thanked Xo for her excellent guiding, shook our heads at our manager, then went and downed a local beer.

The Word for Today

Ta Phin (Noun): A small village located 20 minutes out of Sapa. It is beautifully surrounded in a valley with rice paddies everywhere you look. It is home to the Hmong and Red Dzao, and well worth an overnight stay for its relaxation.

Click Here For Cheap Vietnam Country Guides

A three week adventure around Viet Nam.

Do you ever have those moments when you’re travelling when you just stop and think “why the hell am I putting myself through this? Why am I squashed in a mini bus like a sardine?  Why am I seeing my life flash before my eyes? Why did I catch a train for 12 hours and slept in a bed no bigger than a cot? Why did I not book a package holiday to Bali?”  Well these were the particular thoughts that entered my mind as I was in a minivan overtaking on a blind corner, with a scary looking ravine on my left, a slow bus on my right, a big bloody truck coming towards me and a Michael Schumacher want-a-be driver upfront chatting on his phone, whilst doing something similar to what I might call driving. Niki and I were on our way from Lao Cai to the mountain retreat of Sapa in Northern Vietnam.

This particular incident was a the first of many and after about the tenth time, I was about ready to ask Shoooie to pull over so I could change my pants, luckily for all concerned we had just arrived into the perfectly back dropped Sapa. Nic and I had travelled all the way from Halong Bay the afternoon before, after a beautiful over night stay on a Junk we caught an overnight train from Hanoi to Lao Cai. We had travelled in the Fransipan express cabin and it was great. Complimentary fruit, nuts and water, a comfortable cabin and pleasant staff. The only downside was my top level bunk bed. I have travelled on many trains through out my adventures over the years, however the only way I could explain the level of rocking  this bunk bed was experiencing is something similar to being strapped to a space shuttle on re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere. Similar to the thoughts astronauts might have about whether or not they were going to make it alive into earth, I was thinking whether or not I was going to break loose of the small chains holding my bed to the ceiling and launch myself through the carriage at the speed of light.

Arriving into Sapa is breathtaking and I’m not just talking about the high altitude. Set high up in the mountains, Sapa is perfectly nestled in-between a mountain range and everywhere you look there is a perfect photo moment. The architecture is distinctly, yet slightly out of place, French, with similarities to ski resorts in Europe. Sapa is also home to many ethnic groups including the Black Hmong, Red Dzao, Thai’s and the Flower Hmong. Dressed in their colourful hand woven clothing, draped with their local wares to sell, they pleasantly greet you and strike up a conservation whilst you walk to you hotel. The women were of all ages, with some carrying sleeping babies on their backs in slings, with others carrying large baskets of food and spices. The older ladies had the most amazing faces with hard lines etched into their skin to tell the story of the harshness of hard work and harsh environments.

When we arrived, these friendly Hmong women took an instant liking to Niki, with five of these lovely ladies deciding to latch on to her and ask her the routine questions “Hello, What’s your name? Where are you from? Melbourne or Sydney? Are you married?  How old are you? Do you have babies?” All this within two minutes of meeting us, they were just so charming that it was hard not to engage in conversation.

At one point I lost Niki as these women surrounded her and talked her ear off. She was loosing the battle; Niki was surrounded and stuck in the middle, unable to push past as the Hmong were just too damn nice that Niki could show no rudeness. From where I stood, it looked similar to a lamb stuck in the middle of a pack of wolfs about to be overcome. When Niki dropped to her knees, I knew it was time to stop laughing and go to the rescue of her. That’s what  husbands do right?  Grabbing her hand whilst she was circled, it felt like a cliff-hanger moment. You know that part in the movie where Stallone holds his wife’s hand, looks her in the eyes and then drops her into the ravine? Well I could see the same “please don’t let me go” and “stop laughing you bastard” look in my new wife’s eyes.

Rule No. 4 of being married – Dont laugh at your wife unless she’s  laughing.

With these women following us all the way down the street, then back up the street after we realised we had missed the hotel, we were sure they were going to a find a way for us to part with our money, but they didn’t…or at least not then. They were just generally interested in practicing their English and having a chat. We were staying at the Pinocchio Hotel which has great staff and amazing views. The rooms were basic, clean and secure. The only slight downside was that if you’re a light sleeper, the traffic in the morning (namely the horns) can be a bit of problem due to the closeness of the road. Sapa had already captured my imagination and I’d only been here for two hours, the next four days was only going to seal it as one of the most amazing places in the world.

The Word for Today

Hmong (noun): One of many ethnic minority groups of Northern Vietnam. The Hmong also live in Thailand, China and Laos.

]]> http://focus2focus.net/2010/08/welcome-to-sapa/feed/ 0 http://focus2focus.net/2010/07/opportunistic-hanoi/ http://focus2focus.net/2010/07/opportunistic-hanoi/#comments Fri, 30 Jul 2010 10:53:56 +0000 Peter http://focus2focus.net/?p=796 Hello, What’s Your Name?
A three week adventure around Viet Nam

“Don’t run across the road Nic, it shows them fear and your more likely to get mowed down” I yelled from the other side of the road in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, where I had accidently left my loving wife of 3 days behind. This would be become a bad habit of mine throughout Vietnam and particularly Hanoi, as I wrongly assumed she was always by my side. When in fact she was looking at the millions of bags and shoes that line the shop fronts. When this happened I would both cross back over the road and then lovingly bring her over in my hand or I would coax her to cross the road by herself. The problem with the second option is enviably she would get half way across, the traffic would increase in all directions and she would then stop dead in the middle of the road like a deer stuck in the headlights of an on coming vehicle – surely to meet a gruesome end. Eventually some Vietnamese driver would take pity and slowdown just enough for her scamper across the road. Then as my beloved wife had just crossed the road, her deep scorching glare would instantly burn into me reminding me never to do that again or my testicals would be cut off and would be used as fish balls at a local food stall.

See, today didn’t start to well and her patience have worn thin; little did she know the rest of the day that followed would only push it past breaking point. I woke up to my alarm at about 7ish and I was eager to explore this legendary city and to get some yummy Vietnamese food in my tummy. The room was bright from the sun outside and the noise of the rooster waking the world was sounding. In hindsight this should have been a warning. I lay in for about 20mins then decided enough is enough and woke Niki up, “come on sleepy head lets get started early to beat the heat”. In the 24 hours we had been there, I d never been so hot in Asia before and the humidity was enough to shower in. So my logic was sound. It was about 7.30ish; my wife got up and dressed all ready for the day.  However just as I got dressed my delightful parasitic friend reminded me that I might escape him when I’m sleeping but when I was awake, my butt belonged to him. I curled over with cramps and unfortunately told Niki I had to go back to sleep, I don’t feel too good. She accepted that well, I only wanted an hour and hopefully we would then go out. Just as I was drifting back asleep, I heard Niki turn on her phone to check the time and her messages.

It was quiet, too quiet. Something wasn’t right?

The next thing I heard from a rather annoyed wife was- “OH MY GOD PETER, YOU IDIOT! Its only 5.30am, you’ve put your clock forward the wrong way, and I’m going to kill you!” My response, “ohhhhh that’s why the rooster was crowing, it seemed a little late in the day for it”. With that she got back into bed, tugged at the blanket forcefully and went back to sleep. Oh did I mention it was my birthday as well!

Rule No. 2 of being married – Let your wife sleep in on her honeymoon

We decided to spend the day walking around Hanoi and booking a few tours for the next few days. Our first stop was at the ornate Ngoc Son Temple, located on a small island on Hoan Kiem Lake. Costing 5000 dong, the small temple offered an insight into the spiritual heart of Hanoi. The embalmed remains of a gigantic tortoise, which apparently still live in the lake today, resides here and is well worth checking out. The tortoises represents a legendary story of how the Vietnamese fort of invading China from its land and how the mighty emperor’s sword who defeated the Chinese, was returned to the gods by a giant tortoise who lived within the lake.

Fading due to the heat and lack of food, we made our way to Tamarind Cafe. Tamarind offers a great vegetarian menu with reasonable prices. The vibe of the place is chilled, the service not too bad by Hanoi standards, however I found some of the clientele were a little snotty – please and thank you’s go a long way! Niki had a beautiful clay pot whilst I had a delightful dish of handmade  nachos, you’ll have to go there to try it for yourself. Niki and I were hoping to head to Halong Bay the next day and we wanted to book a tour. We had seen Ocean Tours and ET-pumpkin online and they both looked great. We ended booking with ET pumpkin as they offered a boat that appealed (more on that next post) to our budget more, however we could of easily have gone with either company and would recommend checking out both companies to see which one meets your needs.

By mid afternoon we retreated to our hotel for a small siesta and along the way bought tickets to the 8pm water puppet show at the Municipal Water Puppet Theatre, the 6pm was sold out. Make sure you book early in the day to get the session you want, also perhaps pay more to get front section seats. This isn’t because you cant see from the other section, in fact you can see well but because rude tourists stick their camera high in the air to record the show,  thus obstructing your views – I thought you were meant to put it at eye level and rotate your hand, not move it from left to write like your doing the Grease lighting mega mix!

Our siesta was meant to last about an hour, 3 hours later we awoke to an hour before the performance and hunger pains – well I was hoping they were hunger pains. We got dressed and ran out the door, stopping for a quick meal at Pho 24 restaurant (so good), then straight onto the puppet show. I was excited about this, this was one of the top things that I wanted to see on our Vietnam adventure and my birthday was a great time for it. We arrived 5 minutes before it started and packed into a cramped auditorium. I have to say that the international tourists were the mostly badly behaved people there, talking during the show, arriving late, screaming kids, cameras flashing and moving in all directions. Whilst their Vietnamese counterparts sat quietly, oooinnnggg and arhinnnggg at the right moments (It was Vietnam school holidays).  Besides all this, the performance was genuinely amazing. The traditional oriental music was soothing to the soul and the twelve stories that were portrayed within the performance all related to different aspects of Vietnamese life. As we travelled these little stories would often drift across my mind as we passed rice fields, small towns and climbed into the mountains.

Feeling rather relaxed and enjoying the cooler air, Niki and I decided to stroll along Hoan Kiem Lake back to our hotel. We watched the  local Vietnamese idoly chatting, eating ice-cream and ballroom dancing along the rivers foreshore. Niki and I were laughing, her patience slowly returning. As we walked I noticed a shady character, quite clearly high on drugs, cut in front of us sharply and continue on his way. It was weird but couldn’t quiet put my finger on it, then with a sudden tug, I realised what was happening. I was being robbed! Geez these Vietnamese were bloody opportunistic, trying to get us off buses, hounding us on streets, pricing us higher on items, dodgy taxi metres and now this. As soon as I felt the tug on my bag, I turned left so quickly that I don’t know how the man next to me managed to pull his hand off me even quicker. Ironically our eyes met half way between me continuing onto my bag and him gazing off as if nothing happened, I almost expected him to start whistling a little tune. I instantly grabbed Niki and stopped whilst this other man walked on 10 metres and sat down. My bag pocket was open, however luckily I had nothing stowed in there. Niki and I picked up our pace and went straight back to the hotel, not before I eyeballed the potential thief as I walked past him. It was pointless to say anything at the risk of him pulling a knife on us, I wished him bad karma under my breathe though!

Back at the Especen hotel, my beloved wife broke down and sobbed. She had had enough! The heat and humidity, the opportunistic touts, the crazy roads, the whole culture shock to her and now a potential robbing, she wasn’t enjoying Hanoi at all. On the other hand I thought this was exactly what it would be like, having travelled through China a few years before. I felt it was my fault for giving the thief the opportunity and I promised I wouldn’t let my guard down again over the next 3 weeks. With Niki down in the dumps and me feeling still not well, I thought it was a good time to be heading to Halong Bay for some relaxation. Happy Birthday Peter…

The Word For Today

Sin Jow: A communication essential for all travellers.  The Vietnamese word for Hello.

Lonely Planet Vietnam Guidebooks On Sale

I’m sure when I said to Niki 7 months ago “lets go to Vietnam for our honeymoon”, she had no idea was she was signing up for. I think I’m hugely to blame for that. For instance before we arrived she would talk about lazily sleeping on the beach, sipping cocktails, eating fantastic gourmet Vietnamese food, perhaps even sipping delicious French influenced coffee. You could see in her eyes the blue waters lapping against the perfect white sands of the South China Sea, she had dreamt and imagined Vietnam into perfection – I never thought once to maybe suggest it wouldn’t be so relaxing. However the only thing I saw in her eyes as we stood at an intersection in central Hanoi on our second day was fear, absolute bone shaking fear, shadowed by trembling tears in the background and a deadly look  burning into me saying  “Peter where the hell is my relaxing honeymoon you bastard?!”

Rule No. 1 of being married – Don’t take your new wife to Ha Noi for their honeymoon.

Niki and I arrived into Hanoi after our two week long stay in Bali for our wedding in Ubud. We did the usual budget flights with Air Asia and arrived to a small airport in the middle of farmland. You know you’re in the sticks when you see a couple of cows grazing at the end of airstrip.  Our first introduction to Viet Nam and to the dodgy operators that we had read about would be a slow and steady local bus we took to the city centre. The main benefit of the bus was easily being that the cost was a mere $3 instead of the $30 the taxis were after. As we travelled towards Hanoi we gained a small glimpse into local life, with bikes carrying cages of pigs, cows grazing on the side of the road, big concrete flyovers merging into dirt tracks and slow boats working along the mighty Song Hong (Red River).I was watching our route on the map, a bit of annoying habit of mine, and I knew that we were getting close to our drop off point. However it was hard to keep track of which road was what with road names changing every hundred metres, so when we stopped earlier than I expected and a bunch of touts got on the bus to tell us the bus stopped here, it was game time. Niki was quick to get up and begin getting her stuff, however something wasn’t right. None of the locals were moving and I’m sure I read somewhere months ago that it stopped in town. The touts were yelling at us that we had to get off and they would take us on their bikes into town, they even tried to pick up Niki’s bag. When we said “we weren’t moving and that no one else was moving” they got even more demanding. The two other tourists on the bus were also being hounded. Eventually they got the point and jumped off – just for us to go 2 blocks over and be nicely dropped of outside the Opera House to more opportunistic touts! – At least I knew where we were now and a 15 minute walk later we came upon the hotel we wanted to stay at, unfortunately though they must not have known we were coming as they had shut up shop months before (Spring Hotel).

Opting for plan B instead, we wandered over to the Especen Hotel located down a small alley near St Joseph Cathedral. This great little hotel had clean and spacious rooms starting at about $20us a night. So after two flights, a night in KL, a long slow bus trip, some heavy handed touts and one closed hotel, we were stretching out on a big double bed smiling that we finally made it to Viet Nam. This is about the time the Parasite known as Giardia kicked in and boy did it make its presence known.  I keeled over with cramps, my stomach made evacuation preparations and my brain started sending out emails to other parts of the body to bring them up to pace on a desperate situation. This happy little bug would haunt me for the next 2 weeks and would randomly make me run back to the hotel in need of a bathroom that I could camp out in. With this I make a heartfelt apology to any tourists or Vietnamese that I rudely barged passed on my great escape to the bathroom.

With Giardia on the mind, we rarely ventured far from the hotel on this day, instead opting to wander the authentic alleyways full of local characters doing everything from cutting hair to stirring large pots of Pho, a local flavoursome broth of goodness. We ate at alocal cafe for Lunch and Dinner know as La Place – yes an LP recommendation. The food was divine, with a selection of gourmet Vietnamese meals such as Chicken and Mango rice, pho, crepes and great fruit juices. The walls were covered in propaganda and 1940′s coffee posters. This is defiantly were the “cool” kids of Hanoi hung out, with writers typing away whilst sipping hot cups of Vietnamese coffee. Unfortunately thou, when we came back for dinner Niki found something that looked liked a finger nail in her juice…so what does any normal grossed out person who is absolutely appalled with this do? They pay their bill quietly and come back for lunch the next day – the food was just so damn good!

As the sun set for the day and the dark stormy weather closed in around us, the thunder and lighting made it’s ominous introduction. Within an hour a tropical thunderstorm was upon us and as we sat on our balcony feeling very unimportant in the whole picture of the world, I knew our three week travels through the ever resilient Vietnam would be humbling. Our adventures would take us from Hanoi to the world heritage listed Halong Bay, up to mountainous Sapa to the beach havens of Hoi and Hue, before trekking south to Nha Trang to catch up with friends and concluding in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh). With images of what laid ahead floating through my mind, I got up and made a mad dash for the bathroom…

The Word for Today

Pho (Noun): A Backpackers essential. The cheapest and more hearty dish you can get in Vietnam. Found in most street stalls and budget restaurants.

Lonely Planet Vietnam Guidebooks on Sale

A British colleague I once worked with said “if the adventure is all about the journey than the destination must be really shit”, however in the case of our recent adventures to Dwellingup, I couldn’t help but disagree with him. After a couple of weeks of solo trips and N.M.I.A. (Niki Missing in action), we have joined forces again to fight of the evil stresses of the city and have hit the road for some nature, hiking and relaxation.

A couple years back I use to follow the World Rally Cars when they came to Perth for Rally Australia, and one of the locations they visited was the small town of Dwellingup, located about 100km south of Perth. They use to race through some of the most amazing forests in Western Australia and I was really keen one day to return. Today is that day! So Nic and I packed up are hiking gear and headed south for the winter. Our journey cuts through the Darling Range driving through spectacular eucalyptus forests and past pristine rivers. Along the way you have the opportunity to stop at the various dams that provide Perth with its drinking water – for some reason I had this urge to scull a martini, repeat my surname in a swab English accent and then hurl myself of the wall with a bungee cord attached to me feet and  an Ak37 in one hand. Times like this I think I should have been a Secret Agent!

Anyway, after I got 007 out of my system and dodging the look in Niki’s eyes ”saying this is the last time I’m ever taking you to a bloody dam”, we arrived in the small quaint timber town of Dwellingup. Dwellingup is just what you picture; small ornate cottage style houses, typical country style shops  and a small town atmosphere almost bordering on a hippy come bohemian feel. The fresh air cleaned out the cobwebs and the quietness was just what we were looking for. The town has heaps of heritage and if you’re into this type of tourism, then the small town walks will give you a great insight into the history of the place. The local tourism centre can provide you the maps and all the info you need.

However what Nic and I were here for was the outdoor activities and Dwellingup is a great place to do this. From climbing, canoeing, horse riding, camping, hiking, swimming or fishing, you can find it all here. We drove down to the Lane Poole Reserve, an idyllic park made for all of the above.  The park is divided down the middle by the serene Murray River and for us, the main destination for our hiking. Niki and I picked the Island Pool hiking track, a small loop about 20 minutes into the park. The hike took us along the winding banks and gave us the opportunity to watch wild ducks and other birdlife at play as well as sit by the river watching it slowly drift by. We even bumped into a few canoeists enjoying a lazy afternoon paddle.

After a short but enjoyable hike we sat down to eat some grub before heading home however not before hugging King Jarrah though – a large Jarrah tree which dwarfs everything around it. Dwellingup is a great little destination which I think alot of people often overlook on their way to Margaret River. Although I’m sure in the years to come its going to be another Denmark or Dunsborough.

By the way guys, I have a new blog coming up on Vietnam(talk about being a sucker for punishment) – more details coming soon!

Lane Poole Reserve

Let’s face it, on the whole spectrum of tourist attractions in Australia, Western Australia in the only state to have a fetish for rocks. In fact, it’s a pastime of ours to market how important it is to your travelling experience to visit some form of geological artefact. For example, we have Wave Rock, the town of Boulder, the Bungle Bungle and of course the most famous of them all, the Pinnacles. It surprises me how many people live only a couple of hours away and have never taken the time to drive up to the town of Cervantes to witness these amazing sculptures. Now for those who have no Idea what I’m talking about and are thinking that the Pinnacles is something related to some monumental moment of your life, Ill fill you in. Besides the fact that they are rocks, as we have already established that, they are infact incrediable towers of limestone that have taken thousands of years to form. And unlike Wave Rock which is small and a little disappointing, the Pinnacles form a vast desert surrounded by sapphire blue waters, sunburnt sand and perfect blue skies.

The Pinnacles is located in Nambung National Park and is about 2 and half hours north of Perth.  I found myself up here with 3 uni mates working on a sustainable tourism project. There is nothing quite like getting in a car with 3 others you barely know and hurdling a couple hundred kilometres up the road, in some groups this can be disastrous – just for an example, an issue you may come accross is music and more importantly what music an individual decides to put on whilst driving up (Apparently its never to early for clubbing music). The group consisted of two Reunion Islanders (French) and a fellow Sandgroper. The ironic thing is I didn’t even know about Reunion Island unill I saw an ad for it when I watched Avatar, and then two weeks later I meet two members from this lost French Island. Anyway, we hit the road early, full of coffee and sugar, arriving into Cervantes about 11ish. Checking into the only caravan park and setting up our tents besides a small sand dune that opens up to the calmest  of blue waters I’ve seen in a long time. You could see small islands of the coast and fisherman on the beach casting a line.

We arrived into Nambung National Park about 1pm and began our observations, which I won’t bore you with. The Pinnacles has a fantastic interpretation centre  which explores how the towers formed as well as how the area developed into what it is today. After benefiting from the air conditioned building, we decided to run through the millions of flies back into the confines of the car. Trying to shut the door before any annoying winged pests could find their way in. The Pinnacles is effectively a big desert with a long circular road, which  you slowy drive around and stop at different parts to take photos or just to admire the amazing scenery. If you pick the time right ,you will be gifted with the changing moods of the sky,  where the sands beautifully change colours from violent yellow to red ochres as the sun disappears over the ocean. The shadows  of the pinnacles slowly creep up on you as if you were being stalking by the night.

The rest of the afternoon was devoted to feeding the fish, some people also refer to it as fishing. This old sea dog was sitting on the pier bringing in fish after fish, with the catch of the day easily being an amazing species of squid he caught. However no mater how much I tried, and even after diving into to the waters after I knocked a palstic bag with all my hooks in, all I could catch was a blowey. One day I’ll master it….hopefully.

It will cost you $11 for per car for entry into The Pinnacles, and if you go after 4.30pm for the sunset, entry is by honour box – wink, wink, nudge, nudge.  The camping site is about $20 a night for a tent and provides good shower/cooking facilities. If you’re in need of an ale, well you won’t find one. However if you want a beer, then the central Tavern is a good place to grab one. The crowd is good natured and enjoy a good game of snooker and a bet or two. Or in the case of our clubbing music lover, the ability to chat up a 16 year old, which we had to then politely point out that she was too young and no, you cant take her back to your tent, especially considering our tents are next door.

After a great nights sleep, an early morning swim and a yummy breakfast,we headed back to Perth, successfully gathering all the data for our project. The Pinnacles has always been a favourite of mine and if you haven’t had the chance to see it yet, grab yourself a tent and head up. It’s also a great stop if you’re going further north to Kalbarri or Shark Bay. Just don’t forget your clubbing music…

Thanks to Elise, Regis and Julia for the photos – it was an awesome trip! If you want more info on the Pinnacles-  or if you’d rather see what the worlds biggest squid looks like, click here – if that doesnt give you the creeps, nothing will.

When you think of Penguins, I’m sure you’d agree with me that one of three images comes to mind. The first being of a small black and white flightless bird who enjoys playing on ice slides in Antarctica. Secondly a gender confused penguin who apparently has happy feet and thirdly, an ageing small fat man who likes to dress in a  penguin suit, and equally as mad as this may sound, to chase a man who dresses like a bat. Strange world we live in that’s for sure. Anyway with all these crazy penguin notions, it bring us to the 15th week of the Perth Project and  last week I had the opportunity to visit Penguin Island for the first time in the 20 years that I have lived in Perth. In fact, if I was honest with you all, I didn’t even know that we had penguins in this hot state of ours. Yet here I was heading off to explore this small island off Rockingham, about an hour south of Perth.

As part of my science degree in ecotourism, I get to try a range of exciting activities such as catching birds, handling reptiles and observing our black and white friends. Sadly Niki couldn’t make this one, so I was on my own… surrounded by 20 other students. We arrived down at the jetty at about 12.30 and boarded a small floating device, barely recognizable as a boat. It was more like an oversized tub, yet the captain was in good spirits and introduced the island. The best news I had heard all day, and it has crossed my mind that morning, was that there were no snakes on this island. I had to cusp my hand to my mouth to stop the big whopppeeeee; I’m not a great fan of snakes you see. As we approached this small island, you could hear and see the hundreds of birds that call this small green island home. It was incredible; I’ve never seen so many species of birds in the wild, or in one spot before. They were thriving on this protected island.

As we were a student group, we had a quick educational talk from the ranger about what ecotourism developments were happening on the island and a little about the history, for example lets talk toilets. The toilet systems uses an enzyme that breaks down the waste to a point where it’s safe to then disperse along the gardens. Apparently they did this one year and they had a crop of tomatoes grow from it…need I say more.

Penguin Island is home to 3 pelican colonies, which I was very excited about. I’ve always been fascinated with these birds since feeding them as a kid up in Kalbarri, and I was enthralled at the option to get up and close with them.  They are a large majestic bird that is incredible to see and even more amazing when there are hundreds flying and “talking” around you, almost intimidating. Apparently the pelicans only arrived a few years back, this was due to being displaced due to development in Mandurah.  After walking along the board walks and viewing these mighty birds, I headed along the beach on the west side. The beach was dotted with craggy rocks and was  currently being bombarded by dramatic waves on this overcast day. Fascinatingly, there was evidence of fossilized root systems from trees in some of the rock formations. Apparently the current beach of Western Australia extended for another 15km past Rottnest – who says global warming has never happened before?

After our walk and a quick lunch in the picnic area ( make sure to bring your lunch across as there are no shops on the island), we headed into the Penguin Discovery Centre. The attraction was home to about 12 penguins that were unfit to return to the wild. Known as fairy penguins, these penguins are the smallest species  of penguins.  Here is a  small little fact for you, they pick a mate for life. However they will pick another partner if one dies or they will divorce if one is a bad parent. The enclosure has a great viewing platform and it is well worth visiting during feeding times, as you get a really good spiel on the penguins and the islands. Unlike Philip Island in Victoria, the wild penguins that do come ashore at night to breed or sleep are not viewable to tourists. However if you look closely into lower shrubs during the day you might in fact see one sleeping or guarding their young ones.

Once we finished cooing the penguins, we had the opportunity to coo the sea lions and dolphins that inhabit the area. We jumped onto a glass bottom boat and begun our tour around Shoalwater Bay, which was home to about  dozen islands all protected from humans.  This was the time I started to feel a little sick, by the time we returned, I was starting to feel really sick. The waters were a little choppy as the winds kicked up and to be honest, my see legs are as good as me putting on a pair of skates and trying to figure skate across a bowl of jelly…that’s being modest.

After we visited the sea lion colony on one of the small islands, accurately entitled seal island, we than headed back to the main land with the sun slowly setting on our backs, the birds retreating to their nest for the night and a small pod of dolphins inquisitively chasing us back into port, almost waving us goodbye with their fins. Time and time again I really realise how much I love nature and how important ecotourism’s role is in this world.

Now for my travel agent spiel; Penguin Island is about an hours south of Perth in Rockingham.  Boats leave every hour between 9 and 3, it will cost you $12 for a return trip or $17.50 which includes the Penguin Discovery centre. Also note that they close the island during winter as to protect the penguins during their main breeding seasons, also its bloody cold and wet at this time. You can walk to the island via a sand bar, however please note: a couple of people die every year doing this and unless you are a strong, comfortable swimmer, it’s not worth putting your life at risk. Penguin Island is well worth the trek down and don’t forget to take picnic lunch for a great afternoon or morning of swimming, penguins and pelicans.

Visiting Penguin Island and a link to a more Ecotourism approach of Penguin Island

Danny Devito Penguin Image….go on, you know you want too

Once again the Perth Upmarket was in fine form on Sunday, showcasing some amazing talent from some very creative Sandgropers.

The market was held at the University of Western Australia in the ever impressive Winthrop Hall. The hall however was sporting some battle scars after terrible hail damage from the recent super-storm we had in Perth. The dramatic weather had smashed out most of the spectacular Lead-Light windows in the Hall, and a quick patch up was needed to cover the windows with Perspex to deem the hall safe enough to house the market. But after all that repair work, the show went on!

There was an impressive turn out to the Upmarket, with thousands of people flocking to over 100 stalls, thus proving the handmade scene in Perth is alive, well and thriving.  There were no dolls, tea cosies or doyleys in sight. However this free event offers  a whole range of funky clothing, photography, craft, baby wear, stationary, bags, jewellery, toys, gourmet food and of course coffee – it is hand-made heaven.

For the shoppers the endless unique and hand crafted items provide way too much temptation to pass up, and for the creative’s there was wall to wall inspiration to get the creative juices flowing. I was in my element, darting from one stall to the next like a kid in a lolly shop, whilst poor Peter tried to keep up with me without getting lost in the crowd of people, prams and stalls. I think at one stage there was a hit and run case with Peter and a pram – but hey that’s the thrill of the markets for you.

Our favourite quarterly market is back again on the 27^th of June, but we will be away getting hitched at the time, so it’s a 6 month wait for us till the next Perth Upmarket. If your in town, take the time to check it out, you purses will be lighter however you will be supporting this great developing scene of unique handmade goodies in Perth. The question is thou, will I survive the 6 month wait?

Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction of the Perth Upmarket

Friday night saw us check out Matsuri – a Japanese restaurant in the Perth city.

As Matsuri newbies, our first impressions of the restaurant were that it was very busy and popular, yet welcoming. Initially we found Matsuri recommended in the Perth Lonely Planet guide,  centrally located in the heart of Perth’s CBD, and boasting great Japanese cuisine, we just had to check it out.

Upon arriving, apart from some confusion about the name we had booked under (due to the very cute accent of the adorable front of house girl), we were promptly shown to a great table, seated by the front window and handed menus. At first being seated next to the floor to ceiling windows facing a busy city intersection was enough to make you feel a bit like a goldfish in a glass bowl, but as the night went on, we really enjoyed the view of the bussling Perth CBD on a Friday night.

The friendly wait staff, even though very busy were attentive to our every need and our order was taken shortly after being seated. It was quite entertaining to watch the wait staff literally run and bounce energetically up and down the stairs between the kitchen and the dining floor. Those guys must be fit! After making our selection from the choice of entrée’s and set menus, the entrée’s and drinks followed shortly after. Sapporo beer and Choya Umeshu (Plum wine) were our drinks of choice, and the Plum wine was a nice surprise. A much sweeter wine than I had expected, I found it a similar taste to that of a port or a muscato, but slightly syrupy in consistency. I found it complimented the Japanese food very well.

Our entrée’s were very tasty and well presented. The Kakuni (Pork belly in sweet soy sauce with mustard) was beautiful- tender, succulent and so flavoursome. We’ll definitely be back to sample that dish again!

The main’s followed a short time later – Pork Katsu Don set and the Assorted Tempura set. Both mains came with miso soup, salad and bean spouts, and the actual main dish was a good size for a hungry adult. The mains were beautifully presented with the Pork Katsu Don being served in a beautifully ornate Japanese chest box, which not only keep the meal hot, but made it look amazing!

Of course after the mains there was dessert, but being so full from dinner we could only manage one serving of ice cream between us. My spare dessert stomach must of been on holiday. Disappointing I know, but it was well worth the few spoons each.

With the bill at the end of the night coming in at under $70 for two of us including drinks, entrée’s, mains and a dessert, we were pretty pleased. It left us enough change in our pockets to head over to Burswood where we had a flutter on the Roulette table, and after a few hours of fun ended up walking out with enough winnings to cover dinner, our bets and more! Matsuri definitely comes highly recommended as a great place to eat out for a traditional Japanese set menu.

Quokka Rating

DÉCOR:  4 Quokkas out of 5

CUISINE: 4 Quokkas out of 5

AMBIENCE: 4 Quokkas out of 5

EXPERIENCE: 4 Quokkas out of 5

Matsuri Restaurant

After wandering York Street, the main street in Albany lined with beautiful colonial buildings, warm homely pubs and chic restaurants, we came across the only cafe serving an all day breakfast, and mind you it was only 11.30 in the morning. Geez when will cafes learn, if your going to be backpacker destination, you have to provide all day breakfast at a cheap price.  The cafe lacked atmosphere and I was required to sell my body to pay the bill for the overpriced basic breakfast, seriously $19 for eggs, toast and bacon?!?! Needless to say I came up short on the bill. God I miss 2 pound breakfast’s in London. With our tummies full and our pockets empty, and a drizzle of rain and moody weather approaching the bay, we drove down to the small, however mighty Brig Amity. This ornate, yet sturdy replica ship come museum, tells the story of how the first settlement arrived here from Sydney. Dam those Sydney people always stealing the show.

Finding our way towards the stunning Torndirrup National Park, Niki shouted out as if a Kangaroo had just stepped out in front of the car. Panicking yet not braking, I noticed that it wasn’t a cute little fluffy kangaroo that was about be injured by my car, .it was in fact, free cucumber. Lots of free cucumber and Niki loves free things. So with the back seat covered in the green stuff, we headed to explore the park.

Torndirrup National Park is a wonderfully scenic environment which spreads itself along the southern peninsular. Its various attractions include the Natural Bridge and Gap rock formations, various “blow ya head” off blowholes, and many pristine walks to witness some of the most spectacular scenery in Western Australia.

Rugged sapphire blue coastlines, perfect beaches and pristine wilderness. Torndirrup is great for hardcore eco-tourists or lightweight nature based tourists alike, offering a range of activities from hiking to bird watching, cultural experiences at the former whale station as well some quiet picnicing spots to sample the fine local gourmet food you may have found in the neighbouring areas. The sites are free to enter, with well marked paths, with great signage and info boards. The natural gap and bridge can get very busy, however pick one of the smaller sites and you’ll be rewarded with the place to yourself.

After spending the afternoon wandering around, we set off for the most delicious honey place in the world. Just like the day before when I had told Niki that the best balsamic vinegar in the world resided in Albany…okay maybe not in the world, but pretty close, only to find out that the place doesn’t stock it any more…well obviously it wasn’t as great as I thought.  Anyway here we were on the road again, with me promising the best honey in the world, this is sounding familiar hey? The honey store was 40mins away and we were 50mins away, it closing time was in 45mins – it wasn’t looking good, so I gunned it, perhaps with the wind in the right direction Id be able to make it. I passed through the country side, through Denmark, pass the old granny I nearly hit earlier that morning, pass the service station attendant who was refuelling anther hapless soul, through the top of the hill I had rolled down that morning, to the final bend where the honey store resided. We had made up a little time, we pulled into the drive way, this was the moment… would we make it in time?

Road trip to be continued….

Ps: No Grannys were hurt in the making of this blog

Torndirrup National Park

I’m Maverick and you guys can be Goose – ready? All together, “I have the need” ” The need, for a road trip”. Speed is overrated anyway. Niki and I decided for the last week of my summer holidays to pack up the tent and take our new car for a long spin. Niki had been asking to go down south for a while and if it gave me the chance to the escape the heat, I was up for it. In Perth, down south refers to the regions including Albany, Denmark, Margaret River and it’s surrounds. It’s a biodiversity hotspot and has heaps of gourmet products to keep your mouth watering all the way down the freeway.

After lazily getting up in the morning, buying a few essentials such as a blow up mattress (Learnt that lesson in Wales); we started our long 5 hour drive to Parry’s via Albany. The oldest settlement in Western Australia and originally the home to Australia’ whaling industry, Albany is a small city located along a magnificent bay. It is also home to the worse drivers in W.A., as we found out as we entered a roundabout to be cut up by the car next to us, then to be nearly taken out by an inward bound 4wd.  Driving straight through to our camp site, luckily escaping Albany with our lives, we were heading to this  amazing beach known as Parry’s – the first of two places that inspired me to become an ecotourism consultant (the other was Borneo). This place is perfect, I can’t possibly put into detail the impact this place has on me, however I’m going to give it a go – this small natural camp site is surrounded by beautiful old trees overhanging your campsite, which helps you feel like you in one giant bush cubby simirlar to what you might of built as a kid. It’s has only one entry and as you walk towards the entrance, your senses are engulfed by a beautiful bay of emerald, dotted with a small island and a white sandy beach waiting for you feet leave behind their footprints. Its one of those places that is perfect and here’s hoping development never comes knocking.

We set up camp, cooked us up a feast of frittata and hot tea, before walking along the rocky outcrop and watching the stars come up. Finally falling asleep to the noise of swaying trees and a gentle sea breeze.

The next day I awoke to the noise of crows attacking the left over’s of a dog’s breakfast – I’ve never wanted to say “Stone the crows, you bloody galah” more than…than.  I nudged Niki awake, who responded with giving me the evils (lovingly of course), and persuaded her that fishing was her life dream and that we should go out in the cold overcast morning to catch us some grub. In fact she took to the idea more than I thought she would and before I knew it we were casting a line and feeding the fish. We could see them, they could see us. It was like a western movie, the type of scene where the two cowboys stare each other down, then all of sudden they draw guns and one lies dead on the sand with the other guy standing over him saying “Ill be back”….hang on, wrong movie…. in any case it was Niki and I laying on the floor. For the love of god we could not catch one of these slippery little suckers. So after 3 hours of making sure the fish weren’t hungry anymore, we packed up our fishing gear and headed back into Albany for an expedition.

So we jumped into the car, got about  1k up the road and than it dawned on me that a  little red light was flashing at me. It was flashing at me in a rather annoying urgent type of manner….so as any male would do, I ignore it for another 1km, then it dawned on me, it wasthe bloody fuel light. We were over 25k to the nearest station and the middle of no where. In true Nic and Clay style, we decided to gun it and see if we could make it. As we pushed the car up massive hills, the light flashed a deeper red. Breaking down here wasn’t an option, mostly because I didn’t want to walk the hilly terrain to get fuel…2km from town Nic looked me the eye as if this was it, we weren’t going to make it. Could this be it, would we finally break down because I drive my cars too far on a tank of fuel, we had a few near misses when we crossed oz, then the moment arrived…

To be continued…

So in true Nic and Clay style, we arrived late to the Supreme Court Gardens, had to park about a light-year away and made it just in time to see the second act begin. To be honest, it started of a little random. There was a bald man with heaps of talcum powder violently throwing it around the place, or least I think it was, as cocaine would be far too expensive to be throwing it around like the way he was. The balding man seemed to be steering a giant steel contraption, dramatically portrayed by music  as if it was created from the depths of Mordor (you know little men, one ring and the big volcano at the end?). Big steel vibrations and screeches of metal on metal ricocheted around the gardens. By the way if you were there and thought you have no idea what I’m talking about? Well as an art critic I can say what I want, so there. To be honest I don’t know much about art, but there has never been a better time to learn.

Then the randomness really kicked in, a Spanish Women started singing whilst a 60′s style go-go slash pole dancer partied hard inside a suspended hour glass. No I promise I wasn’t on any drugs at the time, however I reckon the director might have been. Not particularly impressive, the show then turned to a giant steel ball suspended by a crane with humans jumping within it as it spun around. Does anyone remember Cirques du Solei at all?

Then for the piece of résistance, the human web. To be honest, this single act made the night and was one of the most incredible displays I have seen anywhere in the world. Well done drugged up director! The act involved many men and woman suspended above the ground in a web formation. The web slowly grew to life like a beating heart; it then turned into a rave party with the many performers spinning the web to the sounds of the Spanish beats below. Through the use of mood lighting and fireworks in the background, the performance managed to capture the essence and nature of the term human web.

Surprisingly I had a great night and I’m looking forward to catching a few more performances whilst the festival is running. The Perth International Art’s festival is on for the next few weeks and is a great opportunity to get behind the art scene here in Perth. This great festival encourages visitors and helps put lonely Perth on the spot light, even if we have to suspend people in air and watch a bald man throw away enough cocaine to support a small countries drug habits.

The Perth Arts Festival

Nothing? Go on you know you want to chuck a Oi! Oi! Oi! in there.

Well apparently it only works if you’re at a sporting event or when you’re supremely drunk, or so it seems. Yesterday Niki and I spent Australia Day by the mighty Swan River, the life blood of Perth and something we are very proud of. It flows all the way from the wheat-belt to the Indian Ocean in Fremantle and every kid growing up can tell you a story of the fun they had on it. Whether it be jet-skiing, practicing bombies of one of the many jetty’s or watching the Australia Day fireworks on its foreshore. Anyway this week I’m doing something a little different – I’m handing over the driving reins to my beloved. Niki has been poking me to do an article for the Perth Project and in particular, an article on this wicked coffee store we found in Leederville. So  without any further ado…straight from the heart of Melbourne, I give you  Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

“It’s a big call I know, but as a serious coffee connoisseur I can say the search is over. The best brown drop in Perth may have been found…”

It belongs to that of Oxford 130, a funky little cafe that has long been established among locals and Perth’s die-hard coffee devotee’s alike. Located on Oxford Street in Leederville this cafe and its staff are dedicated to blending the perfect brew. Forget the recent trend of polished cafes with menu’s so long they confuse, this place is all about ‘the coffee’. They do however offer a small menu of simple but great breakfasts and yummy handmade cakes. The thick sourdough toast is a must!

This small but comfortable cafe lines its walls with both old and new gig posters, providing a interesting aesthetic but also offering an education on the headline acts that have passed through and entertained Perth over the years. You could spend the whole day lost in the walls of this place. It’s a great cafe to spend a morning losing time with a coffee in hand.

Nestled amongst the gig posters you’ll find the cafe’s motto on coffee proudly painted next to the Barista’s, which really proves their passion for their craft:

“Few beverages are are as intoxicating, heartwarming and utterly satisfying as a steaming cup of hot freshly made coffee. There is the flavour, the stimulation and the colour. There is the body and point, sharpness and above all the aroma. Preserving the fragrance and the fleeting aroma is what good coffee is all about, and the secret as all the pundits often repeat, lies in the word ‘fresh’ = freshly roasted, freshly ground, freshly made” Oxford 130.

So impressed with Soy Lattes at Oxford 130 I refer to them as ‘magic coffee’. But even great coffee aside, this cafe is a great place to sit and ponder, work on your novel or grab a window seat and people watch as the ‘cool kids’ of Leederville wander by…

Since it’s Australia day – a little aussie haka for ya and to keep up the randomoness – a gingerbread haka  and a bunny haka for you too.

I love people’s imaginations

]]> http://focus2focus.net/2010/01/the-best-coffee-in-perth-week-8/feed/ 2 http://focus2focus.net/2010/01/the-slaughter-of-dolphins-must-stop/ http://focus2focus.net/2010/01/the-slaughter-of-dolphins-must-stop/#comments Sun, 17 Jan 2010 11:21:22 +0000 Peter http://focus2focus.net/?p=507 A good friend of mine just sent this link through in regards to the practice of slaughtering dolphins in Japan. I know that the controversial Whale hunting has been in the news recently, however it never crossed my mind that dolphins were being targeted as well.  However, they are being targeted in a far more sadistic way, with more “beautiful” species being sold to aquariums and the rest being slaughted. This horrified me to the core and I’m perplexed to understand why this barbaric act is still happening today, please view this short documentary voiced by Matt Damon below from www.bluevoice.org. Note: Some images may disturb

Please share this with others, as the only way to stop this is to bring the world’s attention to it.  I appreciate Japan’s historical connection with this form of hunting, but it has no place in today’s dramatically changing environment.

The museum is found in the centre of Perth and is located in a grand historically listed building, with beautiful manicured lawns and an iconic image of a dinosaur in its front hall. A gold coin donation will get you in. However sadly this museum is a relic of the past, where stuffing, pinning, and skinning any creature walking was the norm. It might be due to the fact that in the last few years I’ve seen some of the best museums in the world, however I felt  that the majority of the exhibits lack any excitement and hadn’t been updated in the many years since I last saw it. Most of the touch info centres had sign’s saying out of order and many missing pieces.

However in saying all that, there are two roses amongst the thorns. Firstly the hall dedicated to the understanding of the Indigenous groups of Western Australia and exploring the sad historical events of the stolen generation. This hall was very sobering, well presented and highlighted the conditions Aborigines, as well as European peoples faced during colonisation in Western Australia. The exhibit used original photographs, stories, media articles and footage to convey its message, and left me sadly pondering our recent history.

And then there was Megamouth! Or as we in the ecology field like to call it… a bloody big shark! Okay I know it goes against my notion of stuffed animals, but this creature is amazing. Half shark, half man, this creature….okay just shark… comes from the deepest parts of the ocean and is extremely rare. Lucky for us, one washed up down south and they we able to preserve this monster of the deep. This creature puts jaws to shame and looks like someone took a shark, crossed it with a hammer and then gave it a chain saw,  cause quite clearly it wasn’t already scary looking enough?!

The museum sadly isn’t the best Perth can offer and we need a lot of improvements to match those in other states. There was so much more history we could have acknowledged, yet there were gaps. It needs to be more active and more inspiring, it needs to explain the importance of conservation and what we can learn from history in Australia. This is a great day out for the kids, or if you want a quick overview of Perth, or if you’re on the cheap and its raining, then head out for a couple of hours,  The Indigenous hall and Megamouth are worth the visit!

Megamouth Image – Check this out, if you thought Jaws was scary!

P.S. Made a really nice cuttlefish and chickpea soup tonight – come round if you want some!

Chilli has been an amazing part of Niki and I over the last 6 months, it was a small car with a massive heart and it kept up with everything Niki and I could throw it’s way. However with a heavy heart we will remember her for all the fun times, including dodging camels in the outback, to hiding from trams in Melbourne. Goodbye Chilli and may the big car yard in the sky give you a fresh paint coat and better air conditioning.

As one member says goodbye, we welcome a new member. Our new Mitsubishi Lancer 05 model, gun metal grey and bigger than Chilli. A name is still in the making and she will have big wheels to fill. Our new member will give us just a bit more space than Chilli to comfortably travel down south for camping. We are excited and look forward to our future adventures.

Perth Project Week 7 will be with you tomorrow…all going well!

So yesterday I left everyone with my dilemma, where to find goat’s curd in Perth? Well my dear readers, I can now tell you the answer. It took a little bit of investigating and a little time travel, however I managed to discover a little store in the year 2015 that sells it, unfortunately that’s still five years away. Anyway enough of the bad jokes. My day started off with one thing on my mind, goat’s curd. So I headed to the City Farm in East Perth. This small organic market has a small selection of organic foods locally grown on site or from small local providers. They are rather proud to be the only organic market in Perth and the costs aren’t too bad. Similar to the crafty markets in Northbridge, it needs a bigger selection and it will surely add to Perth’s growing gourmet and organic food scene.  Unfortunately thou, Goats cheese was not on the menu.

So a little perplexed I placed down my wild card, the Kkulas brothers in Northbridge. If you haven’t discovered this little store yet, you’re in for a treat. Opening in the early 1900′s by a family arriving from a small island near Turkey, the store was originally a site of a ginger beer factory; it is now home to one of Perth’s best gourmet food stores. As you eyes wonder through the various satchels full of brightly coloured herbs and spices, your senses will overdose on aromatic coffee beans and various fresh foods, whilst your taste buds will drool at the mountains of cheese and chocolate. Wondering through this heritage building is an event in its own and as soon as you enter you feel like you have stepped back in time. The prices are really reasonable; a couple hundred grams of paprika will only set you back a few dollars. However to all its greatness, the best they could offer is goat’s cheese. So after wondering through the store I hit the streets again in search of this goat’s curd.

After racking my brain and trying to think somewhere that may sell the curd, I headed for David Jones in the city. A small but potentially good chance that they may sell it. Unfortunately when Niki asked if they sold curd, the poor girl behind the desk thought we said turd and gave us a really awkward look! However after a little more clarification and her manager intervening, they suggested we go to Simon Johnson on Rokeby road in Subiaco. I felt we were onto something now.

So following the path of the goat, we arrived at Simon Johnson. This is a funky little gourmet shop, will a small cheese cellar at the back and heaps of yummy foods to keep you occupied for ages. So here was the moment of truth, this was the last place we could visit today as Niki had to go to work – would they have the goats curd?

N: “Hi do you have any Goat’s Curd?
SJ: “Unfortunately I don’t have any at the moment, I will in 2 weeks time thou. It all depends on if the goats feel in the mood for it, I’m really sorry. We will call you when we have some”

So we found it! We found the legendary Perth Goat’s Curd, however the goats weren’t quite up to the task at the moment. So sadly having bought all my cream, I had to settle for Danish fetta as a substitute for my cheesecake. I still felt like we accomplished a big step for the Perth Project thou. Okay we don’t have the most impressive wide selection of gourmet foods, however if you look hard enough and I’m talking really hard, you should find whatever your looking for.  Even if takes four attempts to find it and a car load of spices that you can’t help but buy at every store you visit. Perth is really starting to show signs of a great food and market scene in the making. The vibe is under the surface, but by the looks of the various stores popping up, its only matter of time before people will be talking about Perth.

The cheesecake turned out well and I’m now waiting for the paint to dry so I can eat it nice and cold. The top browned really nicely and the brandy infused with the lemon smells amazing. Ill save you a slice…

Kkulas brothers – www.kakulasbros.com.au

City Farm – www.cityfarmperth.org.au/new_lite/about.html

Simon Johnson – www.simonjohnson.com.au

Movida Rustica Cookbook – www.movida.com.au/docs/news.htm

Okay so here is my dilemma, I want to cook a cheesecake, a bloody good cheesecake if the picture is anything to go by. I went to Woolworths and managed to find most ingredients; cream cheese, lemons, sugar, brandy, yogurt to list a few. However no goats curd. It didn’t help that as I was standing in the supermarket looking for the curd and I actually don’t even know what curd is. All I could keep thinking of was Lemon curd and unless goats are now squirting lemon juice out of their bodies, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t what I was looking for. Just imagine that thought for a moment thou? Hmmm that would change the way we make lemon juice.

So, here I am at home hungry and in need of cheesecake – which leads me to the Perth Project. The Perth Project isn’t just attractions, its lifestyle, and its cool little places that we find along the way….that sell goat’s curd. So I’m doing something unthinkable, I’m stopping this week’s Blog half way through and am hitting the streets for funky gourmet food shops in search of goat’s curds. Ill then report back about the cool places and how my cheesecake went…

To be continued…