mike green's blog

THE LAST POST: COPACOBANA & RIO´S UNDERBELLY

2011-06-05T06:59:00.000-07:00

Copacobana Beach. Its not all beer & skittles here, you know. For a start, I don´t play skittles at all. The actual beach is a beaut, even by Aussie standards. The suburbs of Rio are separated by large, weird shaped mountains which acted as natural barriers. Until they started to put tunnels everywhere.

The main streets of Copacobana are softened by trees, which gives a kind of Euro chic feel to the place.

But it can be bloody hard to find a park!! The parking racket appears to be controlled by local parking chiefs (I dont know what else to call them) who appear to direct operations on their little patch of kerb. I have made a detailed study of this operation while perched on one of the beer keg tables at the Belmonte. A fat guy with thongs is the local boss on this corner.

This is my local. I think I am now a part owner of this establishment. Several very late nights were enjoyed by our group right here. But I dont like the way they run a tab, instead of pay as you go. You almost think its free grog, until you get a humungous bill approximating the national debt, just as you want to go home. But you dont care......... until the next morning.

Even getting home is tricky. Most of the streets have this mosaic tiled surface on the footpath. It probably looked great when it was new, but now it is uneven & slippery.

Just about every building has serious security fencing at the front, with locked gates, & often a security guard as well.

It must be like living in a zoo, I expect.

Ok, thats the end of the photos for the time being. Friends, I have just had an un-nerving experience. As all my group has now left, I decided that today Sunday, my last day in Rio, would be devoted to cultural pursuits, rather than drinking & babe watching at the waters edge. So last night I got out the maps & the Lonely Planet, & plotted a course to the St Theresa area of the city. There I hoped to catch an old tram which winds its way through an older section of town, allegedly similar to the older parts of San Fransisco. And what better time to check it out than on a quiet Sunday morning, right? Wrong, as it turned out. The map showed the line would go close to several favelas, the local name for slums, which are definite no go areas, but that just makes it a bit more exciting, & maybe Ill take a few hard to get photos from the relative safety of the tram. I awoke early to the sound of steady rain. Damn it, but at least it will wash the streets clean of the all pervading dog wee odour.

By the time I had finished breakfast it had eased up a bit, so I walked to the nearest Metro station. I stated my destination to the ticket clerk & was given a plastic credit card in exchange for 3 reals. What is it with credit cards in this country? Another WTF moment as I tried to use the thing to get past a turnstile. After trying about every way I could think of, someone else finally turned up, & showed me how. You put it in a slot & the turnstile keeps it. Who would have thought. Great, that means I can stay on the system for as long as I want, because they dont collect tickets at the exit, & nobody knows where I got on! This is essentially how I was able to consistently defraud the London Underground for a whole year in 1977. Bewdy, the Green Man is back!

The euphoria lasted about 4 stops, until a black bloke got in & addressed the entire carriage in a loud voice. Eye contact was being averted by everybody, especially me. The rant lasted about a full minute, & of course I had no idea what he said, but it had the desired effect as many of the passengers squirmed uneasily then dropped money in a box the guy was carrying. I began to feel uncomfortable, as I stood out like you know whats. Had I just witnessed an act of robbery, extortion or charity? No idea, but fortunately my stop was next, & off I got. I was now deep underground, & in following the exit signs, noticed that several of the possible exit routes were cordoned off, including the one I wanted. I also noted that I was pretty much alone. Does anybody work here or what? When I finally left the station, I was totally disoriented, & in walking around the block to find the street I needed, I noticed I was alone again, this time in a vacant laneway strewn with rubbish, apart from a bloke looking at me & swinging a bike lock on the end of a chain, and talking to the voices in his head, quite loudly. Oops. Quick reverse into another lane, where another guy was breaking a lump of concrete into smaller pieces with a metal pipe. Not sure why, but he was a busy man & didnt see me. Another reverse had me in a main street. Across the road two cops had stopped their car & were talking to a group of five young black blokes. The last thing I wanted to do was pull out a map & gawk at it. There didnt seem to be anyone else around, not even many cars, and I suddenly got a very bad vibe as I remembered I had my valuables in my backpack, ie money, tickets, passport, camera, the lot. And at the odds of 5 to 1, I was on the losing side. Bugger, why didnt I leave that stuff at the hotel? Thats right, because the safe doesnt work. Why didnt I do this on a weekday when the city was populated? Because I was too busy sitting in the Belmonte sinking beers & reliving the trip with my travelling mates. By now I was on full alert. Could I make it any more obvious that I was an idiot, a vulnerable gringo carrying a basket of goodies, who didnt know where he was ? Well, perhaps if I was wearing a flourescent orange body suit, with a bag over my head, & throwing bundles of 100 real notes into the air, yes I could. Bugger the tramride, I scurried back to my adopted home of Copacobana with all speed.

Brazil has a bad reputation for high crime rates. This had been self evident from the moment I crossed the border from Argentina 2 weeks ago at Iguacu. Most the houses there had high fences, some topped with an electrified barrier, and large security gates. Windows & doors are invariably screened off with bars, grilles, etc. I believe gun ownership rates are high too. Well, there must be a reason for it. And in Copacobana, & Ipanema, safe areas, the front of just about all the buildings have very heavy duty steel rail fences & gates, while there are security guards outside nearly every large building. Up until last night, my experience had been that these things are pretty much just in the background as the well heeled party people go about their business of having fun in the sun. After checking out the night street market on Avenida Atlantica one last time, I entered Rua Bolivar just as two guys were having a traffic stopping stoush on the corner. They looked either drunk or drugged up, & while it was sort of in slow motion, it showed no sign of stopping as they each landed hit after hit. This was even attracting the attention of the staff & diners at several of the open air restaurants on this busy corner. But there was nothing funny about the sound one blokes head made as it smacked into the footpath. I walked quickly back to the hotel, feeling slightly sickened by what I had just seen.

Sorry to end on a bit of a downer, but after these two events, my second South American adventure is now over, & its time I went home. And at 4.00 am tomorrow (Monday), I will head to the airport, & after enduring the modern day equivalent of torture, eventually arrive home at about midnight Tuesday, if it all goes to plan. Thanks for reading, and Hasta Luego, Amigos.

RIO DE JANIERO

2011-06-03T06:06:00.000-07:00

The coast road near Paraty.

Cobblestones. I really hate the bastards!

Dirt & fog at the same time?? Give me a break!

Slip sliding away.

Yes, I stayed there! Shutup, I heard that.

The speccy backdrop to Ipanema Beach.

Ipanema. Check the mosaic footpath!

National Park behind Penido.

The Sugarloaf. Dont worry, the cable car was built in Switzerland!

At the Copa, Copacobana.... (sorry).

Almost there.

An enforced wait.

I am now in Rio, & the tour is over. Some of my group has left, & the rest will leave shortly. I am here for the next 3 days to wind down & chill out. This is the first chance I have had to make some sense of it all! As I indicated last time, everything happens fast in Brazil. I feel like I have spent weeks on the motorways just passing trucks & being cut up by all the other traffic. Admittedly, some sections of motorway were pretty exciting to ride, but most of the time it was just bum-numbing & risky. Scariest moment was when Wicki just pulled to the side of the motorway to check the map. Just as I took my helmet off, there was a loud bang from ahead. As I looked up, I saw the back of a semi move a few feet sideways, in a puff of smoke. It looked as though that semi had rearended the one in front of it, but it turned out that that particular semi had blown a rear tyre, causing the trailer to whip out to the side. Just 15 seconds earlier, we had all passed that guy at about 120 kph. Holy Moley, was that lucky or what?

There has been little opportunity to do much else other than get from A to B asap, however, we did spend 2 very enjoyable days in Paraty, where we spent a day on a beautiful old wooden yacht sailing out to some of the numerous islands that dot this section of coast. This was a tour highlight. Earlier, when we reached the Serro do Rio do Rastro (another anticipated highlight), it was shrouded in fog, so instead of riding this series of 180 degree turns which plummet from the mountains to near sea level in about a couple of kms, we crawled down in first gear riding the brakes with the hazard lights on. Visibility was about 10 metres, & with trucks taking up a lot of the road (dont these guys ever slow down?) it was fairly nerve wracking. We have also had to put up with more than our fair share of wet weather, & all the associated inconvenience & unpleasantness that go with it, but thats motorcycing. Sometimes we disappeared into the persistent clouds that seem to cover the flanks of the mountains at this time of the year, which was freaky. Generally, the ride up the coast in the vicinity of Paraty was great. The coastal scenery is very similar to Queensland, & it was a nice twisty road without too much traffic, for a change. Riding in Brazil appears to be a mixed bag. They put a lot af cobblestones on the road in some places, & this is probably the most uncomfortable road surface of the lot to ride on. I am not a fan of speed humps either, but they do actually alow the traffic, & often provide the only opportunity to pass. And riding into a road tunnel which has no internal lighting, while wearing sunnies, is an unforgettable experience.

We didnt ride all the way into Rio, instead finishing the riding in Penedo, about 3 hrs away. We spent a few days here & managed to get up into one of the National Parks where there was some good riding on both bitumen & dirt, & terrific scenery. We were bussed into Rio, & as we came in the back door, we were able to see some of the Rio that most people dont want to see, before being dropped at the central bus station, then getting taxis to the hotel, which is located a mere 3 blocks from the beachfront at Copacobana. The only bit of drama came when we checked into the hotel only to find that the hotel had cancelled our booking due to some oversight or other. This was duly sorted by our usually very mild mannered support driver Lisbet. (Bloody hell, dont make her angry!). The desk clerk got a serve he is unlikely to forget.

So, I did the tourist thing & went up to see the famous Christo Redentor statue overlooking Rio from the top of Corcovado, then took a cable car ride up to the top of the Pao de Asucar (The Sugarloaf to us) for an equally stunning panoramic view. I have no idea why the mountains are shaped like pointy turrets, but I did flunk Geology the first time around at Uni. The title of one of the worlds most spectacular cities is not an exaggeration, & the place fairly hums as well. Yesterday I walked the full length of both Copacobana & Ipanema Beaches, while humming The Girl From Ipanema. These icons are also deserving of their reputation, although the weather is cool so there is not much happening on the beachfront. Apart from some blokes playing a version of beach volleyball, where they use only their heads & feet-no hands- & some wackers pumping iron in a public "look at me" sort of way at the open air gyms.

I have observed that the Brazilians are big eaters, & it shows. Some of the women on the beach could block out the sun, but that doesnt stop them putting on a G-string bikini as though they were built like Twiggy. There are some things a man just shouldnt see! On the other hand, there are a lot of things a man should see. This place is the capital of cleavage, & the babes dont mind putting it out there on public display, although it must be said that some of them have been doing it since Dwight Eisenhower was President, & it is time they packed it in. But I guess that is what Brazil is all about. Outwardly at least, people just dont seem to care or get too hung up about stuff like that. I guess that says as much about us as it does about them.

Something else they dont tell you about is the pervading smell of urine along the beachfront & environs. I suspect this is due to the large number of apartment owners around here that have dogs. Every post, pole & treetrunk gets a regular dose, so it pays to not stand still for too long around here. On that note, I might sign off now.

BRAZIL.. OR HAVE I JUST SEEN THE FUTURE?

2011-05-25T12:41:00.000-07:00

I am now a long way from Iguacu Falls. We have really been moving the last 4 days & my head is spinning. This is not what a relaxing holiday is about. What was that about reading the fine print? We started our journey eastwards from Iguacu with a couple of 500 km plus days, made even longer with a couple of navgational &/or logistical stuff ups which had us looking for our hotels after dark, never a good situation to be in. Added to that, it was wet a lot of the time. The traffic is a nightmare, & the roads have potholes & ruts all over the place. On day 3, we had to ride on a long stretch of unsealed road. Not normally too much of a problem, but this was really ugly. It was wet & very slippery, with tricky crossfalls & lots of ruts & corrugations, added to which there was traffic coming in the opposite direction, including trucks & buses. We would have covered about 100 km of this in several stretches, & in places there was 200m or more of nothing but mud. I didnt fall off, so thats gotta be a good thing. As I said, it was ugly, & when we finally got into Blumenau we were pretty well knackered. So since leaving Salta on the first trip, I have covered about 3200 km in 7 riding days. And today I finally saw the Atlantic, the point being that the last ocean I saw was the Pacific when I was in Lima about 5 weeks ago, so I have managed to ride across the South American continent, & I do feel pretty good about that.

I am still grappling with Brazil in general. Its an interesting country, & generally I like the people I have met. It is easily the most progressive & wealthy country in South America, & here are a few random thoughts. A more detailed & critical appraisal may or may not follow later! For a start, it is big & heavily populated. A good look at a map is quite daunting. There are towns all over the place, & many of them are huge. We have only covered a tiny portion in the south west of the country, yet I feel as though I have been riding in the same gigantic city for 4 days! Let me explain. You leave one town & in a few kilometres you enter another. The traffic is intimidating & fast, & cars just carve you up the whole time. Everyone drives as though they are getting the priest for their seriously ill mother. There is no relief, & the pressure is relentless, but one just has to adapt. I cant say that I like it, but I think I can understand it. If you dont drive that way you would never get anywhere. I dont know what people do in this country to get away from it all. There is no escape! Even on crappy goat tracks there are houses & heaps of traffic. The population is a lazy 170 million. Deduct a bit for the Amazon rainforest that hasnt been cut down yet, deduct another 30 million people who live in Rio, Brasilia & Sao Paulo, & you end up with a hell of a lot of people crammed into the bits that are left, and it really shows. I would hate to live here, I really would. I would go stir crazy.

Yet it is a land of contrasts. One the one hand, High rise towers festooned with peoples washing, horses & carts in the streets, the stench of pigs & piggeries permeating just about everywhere, dengue fever & malaria rampant. On the other, modern buildings, nice houses, good cars, shops with everything, the techno revolution. Today we stopped in a huge brand new roadhouse along the coastal freeway. I walked in to buy a coffee, & some pimply faced kid gave me a plastic rectangular thing about 5 x4 with a barcode on it . WTF is this for, I think. Turns out you help yourself to whatever you want, & it gets scanned into their system, & you pay on the way out. Dont really see the point, as there were several bored looking staff standing around scratching their privates. Maybe they just havent been sacked yet. Last night in a bar, I was gived a credit card thing to charge my purchases to. The system has so many flaws in it, it almost amounts to organised crime. Half the stuff I ordered didnt get delivered, I could have got someone elses orders, someone else could book stuff to me, etc, etc. Again, you pay on the way out, to a bored looking cashier, then as soon as you walk outside, some heavy gets a final look at your paperwork. What is all this whizz bang technology all about? Where is the saving? I would have thought with 170 million people, the more of them that have a useful job the better. Like building better roads, for a start.

OK, right now I am in a delightful coastal town called Antonina, in a very comfortable hotel right on the swampfront, freshly showered & sprayed, & about to have a coldie, then a good feed. If only I could hang my laundry out the window. The riding gear is fairly feral at the moment, I dont even want it in the same hotel, let alone have to put it back on tomorrow. Bugger it, I will hang it out. Nobody cares. We will be at a place called Paraty in 2 more days, with a chance to rest a bit, do the laundry, & go on a yacht cruise. And think about what a weird place this is!

PS. I havent seen a fly screen since I arrived in Brazil.

FOZ DO IGUACU, BRAZIL

2011-05-19T08:47:00.000-07:00

I am really enjoying the chance to stop in one place for a while. The new group arrives later today (Thurs) & we leave here on Sunday morning. Apart from just relaxing, I have done a couple of touristy things. I went up to the Itaipu Dam, which is the biggest source of hydro-electricity in the world. It was built jointly by Brazil & Paraguay & supplies both countries, in Paraguays case, to the tune of 80 percent. I took the technical tour, which lasted 2.5 hours, & which included a look at the turbines & generators. This thing is just mind blowing, & the statistics are all big numbers. The dam holds back the Parana River (no mean feat in itself) with 8km of both concrete & rockfill structures. The rotor shafts on the generators are nearly 3m diameter, & there are 18 of them spinning away. The spillways have a capacity 40 times that of Iguacu Falls! The security was, as expected, very tight & very visible, & they were tooled up with weaponry. I did notice one of the escalators was not working. No electricity, pehaps? A cheap shot, but the tour really was good.

The 3m diam drive shaft between the turbine & the gererator rotor

.

The turbine inlets.

General view of Itaipu dam.

The spillways.

Another thing I did was to visit the point where you can stand in Brazil & look across the Iguacu River to see Argentina, & at the same time look across the Parana & see Paraguay, kind of neat in a geopolitical sort of way, because as you might expect, it doesnt look any different to the eye. I went out there on a scooter taxi, ie I paid good money to a lunatic on a Honda 150 to be his pillion passenger, another cheap thrill!

OK, time to fess up. Some of you are already aware that I dropped my bike in Bolivia, but for those who arent, here is the goss! I was looking ahead into a corner on a section of dirt a few hours out of Potosi on the way to Uyuni, then I was being helped to my feet, it was that quick. I cant remember a thing about it, thanks to a whack on the head so hard that it KOd me & cracked my helmet. I also landed on my left hip & elbow. That night I was taken to a hospital, if you could call it that, in Uyuni, where I had a gash on my elbow stitched up, without any local anaesthetic. Cost of this service was about 6 bucks. There did not appear to be any major damage, but my hip was quite sore, & has given me grief for the last 2 weeks, as it had swollen up a lot. I saw a proper doctor yesterday who took some xrays (nothing broken) & drained 600ml of fluid from the lump on my hip. He then jabbed me in the hip so many times I expected to see a tattoo when he had finished. I feel better now, even tho some of the swelling has returned this morning & I will see the doc again tomorrow. The whole thing had to be conducted mainly in Spanish because he didnt speak much English & I cant speak any Portuguese (apart from thank you & the name of my hotel!) And it cost a lot more than $6. So, I am taking it easy to give it a chance to settle down before we get back to riding. The incident made a mess of my Barkbusters & the muffler, so I have lost my bond, but luckily I took out the damage waiver insurance & dont hav to pay the actual cost of the damage. All I can say is OUCH !! Catch you later.

PHOTOS, AT LAST

2011-05-17T06:34:00.000-07:00

Salmonella City Roadhouse

I dont know, I just take the photos, ok?

The towels in my room at Foz do Iguacu. What talent the girl has.

The mighty Iguacu Falls, various angles.Its so big, its hard to photograph.

Our hotel at Parmamarca, Argentina. The Flintstones used to own it.

Servo in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile. Tricky!

Sunset in the Atacama

Dont ride too close behind an Italian, if there is any mud about. Thanks Luca!

Bolivian roads are tricky at the best of times

The Bolivian Altiplano, some of the best scenery I have seen

Out on the Salar de Uyuni. Yes its me. Yes Im riding a dinosaur. No, its not a Triumph..

Bolivian Altiplano

Ditto

Loading trucks at the Potosi mine, Bolivia. They do everything the hard way, it is truly appalling.

Dynamite, anyone. Yes, its the real stuff.

Well, I had to see some eventually, didnt I?

Dried llama foetus anyone? The Witches Market, La Paz

Street market, LaPaz

La Paz. Its like this for nearly the full 360 degrees. We didnt even attempt to ride here, we left the bikes at the top.

Bolivia

On the barge crossing Lake Titicaca at the narrow point, Bolivia

The street parade/festa in Copacobana, Bolivia, which held us up, fortunately.

Ditto

Crossing from Peru into Bolivia.

There is no shortage of mangled English signs

Backstreet in Puno, Peru. Yuk

Reed boat building, Lake Titicaca

Welcoming committee. Hide your money.

Our first high pass. Max & Luca were first, naturally. The spontaneity & unpredictability of these very likeable blokes was great fun.

The Group at Machu Pichu, Peruvian Andes.

Sacred Valley, Peru. Young lady selling stuff at the roadside.

Le puedo tomar un photo, por favor?

Si.

Aqui tiene.

MORE OF ARGENTINA

2011-05-16T10:16:00.000-07:00

As promised, here I am at Iguacu Falls, Brazil. The rest of the original group flew out to Rio this morning, while the two Italian members Luca & Massimo, aka Valentino Rossi & Max Biaggi, flew to Buenos Aires yesterday. A bit sad to see everyone go, because everyone got along famously, & after sharing 3 weeks of adventure & adrenaline, I think there were genuine bonds of friendship & respect, as well as a hell of a lot of laughs. There was always something going on that called for laugh. So now its just me & the Compass Crew, Wicki & Lisbet, & 10 very dirty GS 650s. These need to be cleaned & serviced, & a lot need new tyres. I have a chance to catch up with things (like blogging). I have no doubts that the new group which flies in shortly will undergo the same process. Bike riders share something that other people dont. (Gravel rash?). You know what I mean.

Based on first impressions of the town of Iguacu, Brazil is certainly different from the other countries we have visited. For a start, the weather is hot & humid, the place is cleaner & a lot greener, the traffic is faster & more furious, & things are generally more expensive. Oh, & Portuguese is not Spanish. I can´t understand a bloody thing anyone says. But the Falls are certainly spectacular. I have seen, heard & felt the power! I wont go back & see them again with the new group, but I will certainly front up for the helicopter flight again, that was just fantastic. A large plume of mist hanging in the air above the raging torrent is visible well before you can see anything else but a vast expanse of rain forest, so you are in no doubt as to where they are. But the suspense builds as you get closer, & the first glimpse is a spine tingling shock & awe moment, & quite unforgettable.

OK, so what happened between here & Salta? Well, in 3 days we covered about 1500 km. Not a problem in Oz, but its a bit trickier over here. Some of the more sports bike oriented people (Luca & Max especially) had sore butts & were bored out of their brains after the first few hours, but I was in my element. The first day we covered about 600km, through open, flattish farm country. It didnt look all that prosperous, it appeared that the land may have been cleared, then taken over by weeds, but we were down to almost sea level, & it was cooler. It threatened to rain, but didnt. The landscape gradually changed to more of what you might expect of good cropping & cattle country, with a lot more stock visible, particularly beef cattle, & some very large feedlots. The Argies know a lot about beef, dont worry about that. We finished the days work at a very forgettable town, & stayed in a very forgettable hotel. I would give you more information, but I am trying to suppress the memories. Basically it was a hole. Along the way, I noticed several roadside signs indicating that ¨Las Malvinas son Argentino¨, ie that the Falklands belong to Argentina. Oh really? I thought that had been decided, & that the final score was Britain 1, Argentina nil.

Next morning we awoke to a thunderstorm, & the streets were partly flooded. As we had a 500 km ride that day, it didnt look good. It rained heavily all morning, & out on the roads, it was very dangerous. Visibility was very restricted, & there was a lot of oncoming traffic, particularly trucks, on the single lane road. The roadside was waterlogged, & there was one dropped bike & a few nearlys as people pulled over to clean their visors. We saw one car which had slid off the road, & at one stage, there was a dead horse next to the road. Gulp! The rain eased after a few hours, but everyone had some wet clothes or gloves.

As we entered the city of Corrientes, we crossed a very large cable stayed bridge over the mighty Parana River. It was easily the biggest river I have ever seen, it was massive, & up until that point, Id never heard of it. The Amazon must really be something! Shortly afterwards, we wee pulled over by a traffic cop on a little trail bike. Wiki had committed the mortal sin of cutting onto a service road at an intersection, & naturally all nine other bikes followed. The cop swaggered up the line of parked bikes asking each of us in turn if we spoke Spanish. Of course, anyone that could immediately forgot whatever Spanish they knew. This seemed to infuriate the guy, until eventually he reached Wiki, who also played dumb. By this stage, the cop was extremely angry, but had realised the bikes were foreign registered, & he smacked his ticket book against his thigh furiously. I thought he was about to burst into flames, then it slowly dawned on him that if he issued a ticket, he would also be comdemning himself to about a year of paperwork. So off we went. The irony of the situation was not lost on anyone. After the mayhem we had witnessed out on the roads for the last 2 weeks, all this idiot could do was stop someone for a minor infringement which had not hurt anyone. Thats South America. Mind you in the interest of survival, we had been routinely ignoring speed limits & most other traffic control measures since we left Cusco, but that is not the point, is it? (is it?). Later that day we stopped for lunch at a roadhouse, which would best be described as a smorgasbord of pestilence. We had to stop because the fridge in the truck had packed up, & for the second time, our potential lunch had to be thrown out. Anyway, I took one look at this joint & decided I wouldnt eat anything, except an ice cream with a wrapper on it. Rarely have I seen so many flies in one place, & the kitchen & toilets were filthy. Next day, some of the guys had stomach problems. Up here for thinking! That night we stayed at Puerto Valle, in an old country estate that had been converted into a luxury hotel, & boy was it luxurious. It was a tropical wonderland on the banks of the Parana, & we were treated to a fantastic BBQ & mucho vino y cerveza, then toddled off & slept like the dead. It was a great end to a tough days riding.

The following day, we followed Ruta 12 up along a narrow strip of Argentina which runs between the borders of Paraguay on one side & Brazil on the other, not that you would know by looking at it. The scenery had changed to green & tropical, & the temperature & hunidity had increased accordingly. Another 400 km or so saw us at the border between Argentina & Brazil. This time it took us a while to clear the Brazilian side, & it got dark while we were looking for the hotel, & the group became split up. This was not the first time, but it looked like it might be the biggest stuff up yet, but it got sorted.

Next day the biggest laugh of the trip happened. While in an ATM centre, with a money exchange next door, Brian Gilbert (aka Barney) managed to get himself stuck in a revolving door between the two. Dead set, it was properly stuck & so was he. Did I mention it was a Saturday? Did I mention I had tears of laughter running down my cheeks? Did anyone help? First things first. Like true mates, after everyone else had filmed this predicament from every angle, & had run out of wisecracks, (ie about half an hour later) we managed to bend the glass door just enough for a slightly bewildered Barney to squeeze out. Luckily he was the smallest guy on the tour, anyone else would still be in there. Of couse this did not stop the relentless payouts, which will continue for weeks, if not longer. This will shortly be uploaded to Youtube, & I will put the link on this blogsite. And as ever, there is the pepetual promise of photos to be posted soon, but this looks like it might now be straightforward.

CHILE, JUST FOR A MINUTE, THEN ARGENTINA

2011-05-10T12:48:00.000-07:00

Having crossed into Chile from Bolivia at Ollague, we finally emerged into relative civilisation. A servo with food and an ATM. I pressed the wrong button & now have enough Chilean currency to buy a Ferrari. But I intend to spend 90% of it on beer, wine & spirits, and the rest I´ll probably just waste! We spent the night at San Pedro de Atacama, a pleasant enough place, but as none of the roads are paved, it is fairly dusty. Got the chance to wash the bikes, which were filthy, & do some laundry, as we were filthy as well.

This was just a flying visit to Chile, just long enough to see a small portion of the Atacama Desert, with some very intersesting land forms on offer. We left yesterday morning, completing the Chilean border crossing formalities in SP de Atacama. Then we headed off into the east to the Argentinian border 160 km away! This was a spectacular ride, with no signs of life other than a few llamas, great sweeping vistas of vast plains, salt lakes & snow capped volcanic peaks. We climbed from about 2000m up thru the Paso Jama at 5000m, the highest altitude we have been sofar. On the way, we were delayed by a semi trailer which had jacknifed & blocked the road. No apparent casualties, but a big mess, & it was bloody freezing! Eventually we arrived at the Argentine border post, down to 2000m again & the formalities here went on for ever. They had computer problems & there were several tourist buses already stopped. At least they didnt inspect our baggage, but they did confiscate our lunch from the truck. We speculate probably to feed the drug detecting sniffer dogs, or maybe the border guards themselves. Given that Chile has the strictest plant/food quarantine regulations in South America, I reckon this was just one upmanship, especially when they refused to allow us to eat it on the spot.

Heading for our overnight stop at Parmamarca, we rode one of the scariest roads I have been on, a steep descent consisting of mainly tight switchbacks, but with a lot of loose gravel on the corners. Worse was to come between here & Salta, when we followed a very twisty narrow road, only wide enough for about one car but carrying traffic in both directions, with several horses & cows on the road in places. I didnt enjoy this section as much as some of our group (thrillseekers with a death wish, I say) but it seemed an unneccessary risk to me, & I was tired & cranky. Since when have I beena boring old fart? Maybe I should be home pruning the roses. Anyhow, we are now in Salta, which is a large city, but it seems reasonably ok. After a liesurely lunch of empanadas, the closest thing I have seen to a pasty since Sydney Airport, here I am. We have some big mileage days ahead now (5-600km a day is a lot here, given the roads & traffic conditions) as we head east to Iguacu. The altitude is down to 1200m, the roads are sealed, & it is warm again, & we have to grind it out a bit--thats my kind of riding! See you at the Falls.

POTOSI

2011-05-07T12:51:00.000-07:00

Hi Readers, I am very frustrated about not being able to load photos, it is a combination of my inexpertise & old equipment. Some guys on the tour have iphones, & are never off the things. However, let the carrier pigeons continue. I have enjoyed Bolivia, especially riding across the AltiPlano (high plains), the country is very spectacular & largely unspoilt, part central Australia, part wild west, & part moon. We have been above 3000m for 2 weeks, & I will be glad to get a bit lower. I am sick of the dry throat & chapped lips, & the sun doesnt half burn up here.

We did a tour of a mine in Potosi, & I was totally shocked. I think it is the worst palce I have ever been. I just cannot believe that people have to work in such conditions- for about 450 years people have been tunnelling into this huge mountain to remove silver, lead, zinc & sundry other metal bearing ores. One day the whole thing will just collapse on itself, mark my words. Fortunately for me, it was not while I was inside the thing. There is no science involved. The miners keep going on a combination of superstition, religion, luck, alcohol & coca leaves. First stop was a shop to buy gifts for the miners. Coca leaves, dynamite, det cord & detonators, & biscuits. I´m not kiddding! These guys have to provide this stuff for themselves. Plenty of them start at the age of 12 or younger, & dozens die every year. The work is backbreaking manual labour, buckets, ropes, wheelbarrows, then pushing ore carts out into the sunlight, where they load trucks by wheelbarrow, to take the ore out of the country for processing. So someone else makes the money on the back of these poor bastards, it made me sick, & it made me realise what people will do to each other, & to reconsider the achievements of the labour movements in other countries. This is just wrong, but what can I do about it? Apparently it is a big improvement on how the Spanish treated the Indians when it all started, they just locked them in the mine & worked them to death. We also visited the old Mint, which produced coins for all of the Spanish colonies at one time. The machinery, which was basic but effective, was powered by mules, & they suffered the same fate as the Indians. I kind of struggle with the Spanish legacy. They were brutal conquerors who left their religion & their language, while plundering everything else, & only departed when they got kicked out by force of arms by local leaders who were not much better.

On a brighter note, the ride down to Uyuni was eventful (more later), all dirt but again, very spectacular. The 2 pretty cool Italian guys who are normally the front runners, sitting right behind the Ride Leader, dropped back in the field a bit, but eventually got the hang of it. These guys could wear Rodney Dangerfield´s golf outfit & make it look stylish, & are great fun to be with. Uyuni itself is a depressing place, none of the streets are paved, so there is dust everywhere, & it looks pretty run down. Out on the Salar (salt lake) at least it is cleaner. This was quite bizzare, & hard on the eyes without the sunnies. We visited a hotel out on the lake which is built out of salt blocks....interesting, but it isnt going to catch on. We spent nearly a full day out there. Next day we continued on the dirt to the most remote part of our tour, the Chilean border town of Ollague, under the shadow of Mt Ollague, an active volcano. It was a long hard day, with lots of corrugations, sand, potholes, even mud when we detoured around some roadworks. So they are actually working on the road, but it was a shocker! We met a German couple who had driven their car from the US, & like everyone else they met, we were invited to sign their car! I guess it will need a respray anyhow.

The border crossing took quite a while, first, the Bolivian side was closed for siesta, then the Chilean side insisted on searching all the luggage, so that meant unpacking the trailer, then dragging it all into the customs shed, & finally repacking it all. We stayed the night in a pretty basic hotel, but hey, thats part of the fun. When we left this am, it was minus 3 degrees & we headed into another 200km of serious dirt road, the main feature of which was more potholes & a lot of loose sand. But the scenery was majestic. So even though it is hard work, one gets the feeling that the effort brings reward. We arrived in San Pedro de Atacama on the fringes of the Atacama Desert at about 2pm today, & have a chance to regroup for 2 nights. Thats the end of the dirt roads, as far as we have been advised, & hopefully the weather might warm up a bit.

BOLIVIA

2011-05-01T14:22:00.000-07:00

Ahem, I may have been a little hasty in my last posting. While I stand by what I said about Lake Titicaca in the vicinity of Puno, where most of the tourists go, namely that it is a septic lagoon, yesterday I discovered how big the thing really is. We left Puno & headed to the Bolivian border post of Copacobana (not the one in Rio) then on to the capital of La Paz. We covered about 300km, and most of that was in view of the Lake. It is massive, about 8000 sq km. And I have to say that it looked pretty good, & clean. However, there is no doubt that it is used as a giant drain, & so it is not infinite. There, I stand corrected.

The border crossing was a smooth albeit lengthy process, & a few km further on we hit the small town of Copacobana, still on the shores of the Lake. Here we came to a sudden stop. There was a fiesta & street parade in full swing. This weekend is Bolivian Independence Day (apparently). The streets were blocked off, & in true South American style, there was nothing like a simple detour in place, traffic just stopped. This gave us an opportunity to see something special, & take numerous photos. The cosumes were terrific, very colourful & intricate, & there was music, fireworks , the whole shebang, it was just great. We lost a great deal of time on what was already a long day, but nobody was sorry about it. Speaking of photos, it might just be easier to come over to my place & see them when I get back. If I find one more computer that wont upload the bastards in under a week, Ill kick it into the lake, but I digress.

We eventually got through &, surprise surprise, immediately hit one of the best bike roads I have ever been on. This was in fact the concensus of the whole group. This is why we ride, it was about 40km of everything we like, uphill, downhill, fast corners, slow corners, fantastic alpine scenery reminiscent of the south island of NZ, whenever you could sneak a peek, it was as smooth as silk & with hardly any traffic, seeing as how eveybody else was in town at the fiesta. The bikes got a real good workout. This brought us to a point in the Lake where there is a narrow constriction, & where we had to cross by ferry. This was no ordinary ferry, these are old wooden barges powered by small outboards. How they remain afloat defies all know theories related to bouyancy. We rode in head first over uneven, twisted planks with large gaps between, then had to back out on the other side. The water looked reasonably smooth but the barges pitched & tossed like mad. Even trucks & buses were carried across in the same way. I suspect that eventually one will be able to drive across on the bodies of the sunken vehicles & barges, & these guys will be out of a job.

Once safely across, the group continued through farming country, the number of villages & amount of traffic steadily increasing. The houses looked pretty rough, mostly made of mudbricks. Bolivia is clearly poorer than Peru, which is mildly disturbing, and the crime rate is higher while the roads are said to be worse, notwithstanding the great ride we had shortly after entering the country. So who do you believe? Anyway, by this stage we were nearing the outskirts of LaPaz, & it was getting dark. We pushed it a bit, probably more than I would have liked, but nobody wanted to get left behind. Shortly we hit the outer burbs, & the real bunfight commenced. This area was absolutely horrible, the place looked like Iraq, half finished buildings & junk everywhere. By this stage, the 4WD & trailer had arrived, with Compass´s local fixer on board. The plan was to head into Los Altos on the city fringe, park the bikes securely, then go to our hotel in the CBD by bus. The 4WD led the way like a battering ram through the traffic, all we had to do was follow it, easier said than done in this type of traffic. We have already become adept at riding in a tight bunch, the second there is a gap , someone else will just barge in. Again, the consequences of becoming separated were too awful to contemplate, so we stuck like glue. It was aggressive & fierce, with no quarter asked or given, but generally within the rules, not like the mayhem of Indian traffic where people constantly find new ways to scare the crap out of you.

Anyway, it was tough, but we got there on adrenaline. After transferring to the bus, we proceededinto town This joint really is quite different & very dramatic. The cityof some 2 million citizens sits in what is best described as a bowl, surrounded by hills. The difference in height between the hills & the bottom of the bowl is about 1000m & the whole thing is covered in buildings. It was now dark, & as we reached the rim, the sight of zillions of twinkling lights was more than spectacular, it was surreal. Our downtown hotel is excellent, we are in suites rather than rooms. I can just about get lost in mine. But there were no party animals last night, eveyone just crashed after a long & tiring day. There was a city tour this morning, which covered The Valley of the Moon, the main city squares, Government buildings & the main Cathederal, the wealthy part of town & bizzarely, the notorious main jail which is right in the CBD !! This is a place of legend, where the prisoners ran tours of the jail for paying customers, & also the biggest cocaine factory in Bolivia. Tourists were once allowed to stay in the jail overnight for a fee, but that sounds too heavy for me. Who do you complain to if they dont let you out? Is it covered by travel insurance?

After the tour, we had some free time to check things out individually, places like the Witches Market, where there are all kinds of stuff available. Never know when you are going to need a dried llama foetus or two (personally I like to keep a couple in the pantry in case of unexpected guests) . And the coca leaves go without saying! You can even make coca tea in the lobby of our hotel! Gotta say LaPaz didnt look as good as it did last night, but nevertheless, it is still quite spectacular & unlike any place I have been hitherto. We head off into the more remote parts of the country tomorrow, with a big ride of over 500km. Hasta Luego, amigos.

PS: This is weird, but the people of Peru & Bolivia, particularly those with indigenous genes, are really short. The group concensus is that this is Darwinian, as short limbs are more efficient in steep mountainous terrain & at high altitude. I will be glad to get down to more normal altitudes. I have had a headache for a week, & just cant drink enough water.

LAKE TITICACA

2011-04-29T13:31:00.000-07:00

Our group has moved on from Cusco, & we are now in Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca. We had a good ride of about 400 km yesterday. The roads leaving Cusco were very ordinary. Nobody official gives a rats about potholes (or anything else as far as I can make out), but my favourite hazard is the missing manhole cover. Some of these are big enough to trap a front wheel, & they can appear at any moment. And if you are in a roundabout, & think this entitles you to some sort of priority.......wrong!! I am truly staggered at the number of dogs roaming the streets of Peru. Mange, distemper, hydatid worms, rabies etc are all alive & well , & in no danger of going the way of smallpox. But back to the riding. We crossed a mountain pass on the way here, at about 4300m. It was hailing just as we got to the top, but it blew over quickly, & we moved on over generally good roads, but with a few bad sections, through quite spectacular looking countryside, wide sweeping vistas with snowy peaks in the background. Lots of rural folk, mostly women in the traditional dress of skirt, long socks, cardigan & brightly cloured shoulder bags topped off by a bowler or top hat, walking along the roads herding sheep, llamas or alpacas. The hats apparently vary from town to town, region to region. Farmhouses are mostly made of mudbrick. Its quaint, but you wouldnt reckon anyone is making any money.

When we arrived in Juliaca, I thought I was back in India, complete with roadside junk & diabolical traffic. The ride leader took a wrong turn up a narrow one way street in the middle of the chaos (hey, it happens) & we ended up having to turn around. Ten bikes doing 3 point turns in street did not help, but I thought it was pretty funny all the same. Anyhow, we got here, & I continued my startling run of punctures by picking up another nail just as we arrived. Oh, another thing , the 650GS has a seat like a park bench, good thing I brought the Airhawk seat cushion.

This morning we went out on the lake to visit the floating islands made of reeds, which was the purpose of our visit to Puno. This is really quite remarkable, as there are whole communities living out there in houses made of reeds, & it feels weird to walk around with a slight moving sensation as the surface gives underfoot, sort of like walking on a matress. They also make boats out of reeds as well, which was neat to see. These days though, the buoyancy is provided principally by two tubes filled with empty plastic bottles. Such is progress. The bad news is that this place has been developed into a total tourist trap, the objective being to extract as much dough from everybody as possible, but this is no surprise, is it¿ (that was a spanish question mark by the way). So after the obligatory photos of women in Peruvian outfits, & a wander into some of the houses for a look, out comes the hard sell for local handicrafts (read: crap that nobody needs or wants, least of all me). Pretty much what we expected. As for the Lake itself, it is impressive in that it is so large, over 160 km long, & is located in the mountains at such a high altitude. But sadly the reality is that it is a fetid swamp, the worlds largest sewage treatment lagoon, a giant stinking cesspit constantly topped up by the shit running from the streets & drains of Puno & other towns. Fortunately, the stench is somewhat modified by the clouds of exhaust fumes, & even in the back of this particular internet cafe there is no escape.

I just dont know how so much of the world lives in conditions like these, much less how it can ever be improved. If people dont care about it, then they deserve to live in crap. And being poor doesnt give you a licence to throw your rubbish into the street. I cant see that Puno serves any other purpose than to pollute Lake Titicaca, and that the concepts of urban planning & building control, public health management & basic hygeine are virtually non existent. As for Occ Health & Safety.........dont make me laugh! Anyway, we leave for Bolivia tomorrow, which is just across the other side of the Lake, & have our first border crossing. I dont expect there will be much improvement. Photos asap, I promise.

But amid all of the above angst, today I had one of those moments you just cant buy. I was walking along the street just as a primary school was finishing for the day. A little girl of about 5 or 6 stopped on the footpath & looked me up & down with a very studious expression on her face, and then with that wonderful innocence that only children have, said " Greengo".

CUSCO

2011-04-27T14:06:00.000-07:00

After arriving in Cusco, I met the rest of the group. We have 9 riders & 2 pillions altogether, all Aussies, (apart from 2 Italian speed freaks, but they have been living in Sydney for a few years, so that is good enough) & have spent a bit of time getting to know one another and our Compass crew, Wiki & Lisbet, a young Belgian couple. We had a familiarisation ride out into the hills surrounding Cusco, & the traffic conditions & general mayhem out on the roads surprised a few of the group, but sofar there have been no major dramas about riding on the right, & being ignored by everyone else on the road.

The compound where the bikes are kept is a real sight. You have to ride down a sidestreet which is more like a motocross track to get there, & its behind some huge steel gates, & has a resident caretaker who lives in a pile of rubbish at one end. South America can certainly be confronting at times, & Cusco does not appear to be a wealthy town. But it is the tourism hub of Peru, & the centre of town is interesting notwithstanding the obligatory beggars, touts, shops full of tat, etc. There is some good stuff to buy, & some good restaurants, & food & grog is reasonably cheap. How does less than $2 a stubby sound? (Pause for a sip.) Some of the group are suffering already with altitude sickness (3300m), & stomach bugs, so far I have been spared anything serious.

I am currently back in Cusco, after having been up to see Machu Pichu. Quite a complicated process, as the train from here to there is still out of action due to last years floods. We rode part of the way, then took a 90 min train ride to Aguas Calientes, where we stayed overnight. Early next am, we took a mildly nerve wracking bus ride up to the site. It certainly must have been remote when it was built. Nobody was disappointed, it is quite a fascinating place. We then reversed the process, & took a different ride route back here. Great scenery, but the roads are not great, & you just never know what will come at you from around the next bend. There are heaps of speed humps which you usually dont see until the last moment, & all sorts of animals wandering around the place.

Tomorrow we finally get going up to Puno & Lake Titicaca. I am having trouble loading photos & will catch up when I can find a faster computer.

GOODBYE ARGENTINA---HELLO PERU

2011-04-21T10:57:00.000-07:00

With my last day in Buenos Aires, I decided to visit a few of the places I missed out on last time I was here, so I headed up to the Cemetario de la Recoletta. This is an old cemetery where the coffins are kept in above ground mausoleums. It is notable for being the final resting place of Eva Peron, & it didnt take too long before I located same. Well, whacko, it was nothing flash. I was more interested in the fact that the place was so old. I saw several tombs holding people born in the 1700s. I also observed most of the tombs are a lot more presentable than many of the houses visible on the way into town from the airport. It is a bizzare place, & I kept thinking of that scene in Easy Rider where they had an acid trip in a similar cemetery in New Orleans. All that was missing was the acid, a couple of hookers, a pile driving rig &, oh yes, Denis Hopper. OK so there was a lot missing. Anyway, I then went & had a look at the big obelisk in the middle of the main drag. This commemorates the anniversary of the founding of the city, circa 1580 odd, well before Australia was even discovered. I think they wasted the head start.

Recoletta Cemetery

The Obelisk

A traffic cops vehicle. Intimidating or what? Dont laugh or they shoot.

Buggered if I know, its an ad for Pepsi.

After a 5 am start the next day, & a 5 hour flight from Buenos Aires, during which my allocated seat was wedged between one of the toilets & a woman holding a baby who screamed in my ear the entire time, I arrived in Lima. The place was barely visible due to a low fog, even though it was the middle of the day. This is apparently quite common. Yet when I walked out the door, it was hot & humid. Go figure. My first impression was that it looked a lot less prosperous than Buenos Aires or Santiago, the only other capitals I have seen in South America. But airports are usually located in crap areas, right? This outlook didnt improve as the taxi headed through some pretty run down areas & emerged on the coast. The Pacific was a dirty brown colour, & the beaches were made of grey shingles. I wouldnt swim in it at gunpoint. And the coastline was fronted by very high cliffs , making it hard to get to. Anyway, the Hotel Antigua Miraflores is nice enough. However, none of the rooms have flyscreens, & there is a sign in the bog instructing that putting toilet paper down the bog is not on. One dumps it in the waste bin, apparently. I have heard of this, but as yet not experienced it. I daresay its a hard habit to get into. God help the cleaners.

The courtyard of my hotel

The Pacific coast- foggy, grey & horrible, today anyway.

Anyway, this am I went out for a walk & finished up walking along the coast. Nice waves coming in, but as noted above, one would really have to be keen. I ended up at a new shopping mall - fun complex, the type of place I would usually avoid, but there wasnt much else on offer. Its too far & too hot to go into the city. The place was crawling with security guards, & all the buildings here have heavy grilles & screens on the windows & doors, so it looks like crime is rampant. Heavy stuff. I fly to Cusco tomorrow. Let the riding commence .....please!!

Buenos Aires --Otra Vez

2011-04-19T04:21:00.000-07:00

Hello Listeners, Nothing much to report yet. I am now in Argentina, & am just getting over the jetlag. Now I find out if the time & effort I put in to learning Spanish was worth it. The indications appear to be good because, sofar at least, nobody has gone off their trolley at me or resorted to violence after I have spoken to them. Just having a relaxing day in Buenos Aires today, with a 5am departure for the airport tomorrow, when I fly to Lima. Until Then.

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

2011-04-15T02:14:00.000-07:00

Greetings to all. As some of you will already know, I am shortly to return to South America for some further biking adventures. Yes, I admit it, I'm hooked! It is just a question of what gives out first, the bank balance or the body. Either way, I'm sure the Government will look after me. So, I head to Buenos Aires on 18 April. Then across to Lima, and on up to Cusco. Here I will join a Compass Expeditions ride via Chile & Bolivia & northern Argentina to Iguacu Falls, at the convergence of the borders of Argentina, Brazil & Paraguay. From here, I join another Compass ride across to the coast of Brazil, then up to Rio de Janiero. Then I fly back to Buenos Aires, & get home on 6 June. After patiently watching & enjoying the journeys of several friends unfolding over the last year or so, I am fairly champing at the bit. Stay tuned.

A FEW MORE PHOTOS & A FEW LAST WORDS.

2009-12-27T01:05:00.000-08:00

THE TIGRE DELTA just north of Buenos Aires

AS ABOVE

TIERRA DEL FUEGO NATIONAL PARK, where the road ends.

AS ABOVE. Its wild, isolated & quite spectacular.

And heavily forested too.

We went thru THE GARIBALDI PASS, just out of Ushuaia on the road north. That's snow on the roadside.

AS ABOVE. Tricky, not to mention cold!

WAITING TO CROSS THE STRAITS OF MAGELLAN, separating Tierra Del Fuego from the South American mainland. The Sir Douglas Mawson lookalike is me, but the conditions were fairly Antarctic.

The magnificent LAGO ARGENTINO , between El Calafate & El Chalten.

ONTO THE GRAVEL AGAIN, Ruta 40, north of Tres Lagos. It gets worse.......a lot worse!

BUSH MECHANICS! An improvised clutch lever after a drop on the gravel. It actually worked. (No, its not mine!)

LANIN VOLCANO, on the border between San Martin de los Andes (Argentina) & Pucon (Chile). Yes, it's active ..........better keep moving!

A BIT CLOSER. The foliage is a so called Monkey Puzzle Tree.

PART OF THE SANTIAGO SKYLINE. The smog blots out what would otherwise be a spectacular mountain backdrop.

PLAZA BAQUEDANO, Central Santiago

ONE OF THE MANY CATHEDRALS, Santiago.

TERRAZA NEPTUNO, Cerro Santa Lucia, Central Santiago.

Ever wonder what the Third Reich did with all the leftover uniforms? Now you know!

CROSSING THE ANDES THE EASY WAY. Flying back to Buenos Aires from Santiago.

AS ABOVE.

Its been a hectic 3 weeks, covering a bit over 3,000 km by road. When we started in Ushuaia, it looked as though we were going to cop really bad weather, but I think we got lucky. It had been snowing the day before we arrived, & it was raining on arrival. The wind was stiff enough to be a concern, & it made the riding tough, but it could have been much worse, apparently. There was snow on the ground in a mountain pass on the first ride day from Ushuaia, so that's a first for me. Fortunately, the weather steadily improved as we moved north.

As a group, we have seen some spectacularly rugged & isolated scenery, ridden through some of the most remote & challenging parts of the planet, had some fantastic rides, honed our skills, enjoyed the cameraderie of similar minded adventurers, met a lot of very friendly & hospitable locals along the way and, best of all, had a lot of fun doing it. What more could anybody want? Just more, that's what! So there will probably be a next time, at least I hope so. Thanks for sharing this great experience with me. Hasta Luego, Mike.

BEWARE, THERE ARE LLAMAS !!!!

2009-12-18T10:46:00.000-08:00

Well, they´re guanacos actually, a little smaller than llamas. There are plenty of them out on the plains, but they are a bit flighty, & usually bolt before you can get too close- fortunately, as they are bigger than goats.

Before we get to the infamous Ruta 40, here is a shot of a waterfall/glacial lake in Torres del Paine NP, Chile, followed by a refuel stop in the backblocks. The hose comes out of a hole in the back of a dilapidated shack, but what the heck, its petrol.

Got to a place called El Chalten, dominated by a massive granite spike called Mt Fitzroy.

However, I am more likely to remember the place for the massive dose of gastro I got at no extra charge after dinner in a local restaurant. After spending a night in/on the bog, I did not eat for 36 hours, & had to spend 2 days in the support vehicle, thus missing out on a big section of Ruta 40. However, I did get a good look at the countryside, usually as I ran out of the 4WD a few times to find a bush & then to add my personal contribution to the local ecology (too much information?). It is an unbelievably windswept & desolate part of the world, but like OZ, its got its own special grandeur, & there are usually snow peaked mountains on the distant horizons which add to the overall vibe. I was fit enough to ride the next day, which happened to be the longext ride day of the trip. It started with 130 km of murder- deep gravel, corrugations, & sand, 350 km of bitumen, with large sections of side detours which were worse than the road they were replacing! We had a savage wind in places, but apparently we got it relatively easy, nowhere near the full fury that can be unleashed. It was probably the toughest ride I have ever done, its tough on the bike, & tough on the rider. It was not unexpected, but I was not in A1 shape to start with, & I´m very satisfied with my effort.

RUTA 40. ITS A TOUGH GIG !!!

Ruta 40 is being upgraded with large sections under total replacement (theyre replacing it with a road!). When it is finally finished, it will be just another road, but right now, it is deservedly the stuff of legend. We have seen many other bikes, either tour groups or individuals in twos or threes. Its BMW Central down here.

Some of the towns are amazingly backwards. Here is the main street of Rio Majo, note the extensive reconstruction program in full swing.

When we got up as far as Esquel, a pleasant ski resort town, the country started to improve, with forested mountains, & lots of wildflowers. It is now starting to look quite alpine. Yesterday, we had a great ride on good roads to reach Bariloche, an even more European looking town on a large lake. This is our accomodation on the outskirts. Neat, huh? Just like Bavaria.

On the downside, my bike now has a damaged headstem bearing, making it quite hard to ride, & the guys dont have a spare, so thats a bummer as we have even more good roads to ride on tomorrow. Such is life! But overall I like the F650, its got everything you need, its light & responsive, it handles the rough stuff comfortably & predictably, & on the bitumen, I love the way it howls when you wring its neck in 3rd & 4th. Its back into Chile tomorrow (19Dec) to Pucon via the 7 Lakes area, should be another scenery overload. I´ll post more photos when I can. See you all soon.

FIN DEL MUNDO (end of the world)

2009-12-13T06:30:00.000-08:00

Hello readers, Sorry about the delay in posting, access to reliable internet has been a problem. A quick summary so far. I arrived in Buenos Aries a bit of a jet lagged wreck, compounded by a reaction to my yellow fever shots. I had a bit of a look round town, & while it is a lot like Europe in the visual sense, there is also some in your face third world evident-people fossicking thru garbage, slums, lack of footpaths, general grot etc. However, the food is amazing. These people eat like there is no tomorrow. Red meat is the go, & the portion size is about half a cow. Here are 2 photos of crowd control South American style. This lot complete with water cannon & baseball bats were waiting in a city square for a bunch of protesters.

Anyway, after a night out to meet the rest of the group on the tour, we flew down to Ushuaia, where it was cold, windy & raining. We went out for a quick ride, to get used to the bikes, & each other. There are 5 Aussies, an American & a Brit in the riding group, & 3 Compass guys to show us the way. We headed for the end of the Pan Amarican Highway, literally the end of the road at the bottom of Tierra Del Fuego.

This is one of the ultimate goals, the holy grail, for serious motorcycle travellers, so it feels weird starting from here, but thats what we did. We have been doing some long days, 3-400 km, over a mix of road types. Sofar the dirt has been mostly ok, but the big problem is the wind. It is absolutely unbelievable. It can literally blow you right off the road. I have never, ever ridden in conditions like this, cranked over about 20 degrees just to go in a straight line! Its tough & its uncomfortable, & its also cold. There is a lot of snow around in parts. We are all wearing every bit of clothing we own. Enough complaining. There are vast open spaces down here, & in that sense, its a lot like Australia, altho the vegetatiuon & wildlife are very different. We crossed into Chile, then took a ferry across the Straights of Magellan. The Torres del Paine national park in Chile was very, very spectacular.

We crossed back into Argentina, & moved on to a place called El Calafate. From there we went 80km up to the Perito Moreno glacier. This thing is absolutely gigantic, about 5 km wide & 60 m high. You dont need to wait long for a chunk to break off, its very fast for a glacier, and you can hear it creaking & cracking continously. We saw a lump the size of a block of flats break off & hit the water at the front like a bomb! This photo only shows a small part of the front edge of the glacier.

We are about to head into a remote region of Patagonia, for what we think will be 4 days of hard going over the worst roads we are likely to meet. Gotta go, more later.

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

2009-11-25T03:07:00.000-08:00

Welcome back listeners. You could be forgiven for thinking that nothing has happened in the 14 months since I last put a post on this blogsite. And you'd be right! Well, not much anyway. Some riding in Oz, the east coast & the centre, and a quick non-bike trip to Borneo, and oh yes, I bought a new bike (KLR650), to go where I'm not prepared to take the BM. But since having had a big serve of adventure in 08, I have never stopped scheming about what I was going to do next. I have decided to act on my half baked plan to visit South America. This will be a short trip of only 3 weeks to Argentina & Chile through Compass Expeditions, & I'm thinking of it as an exploratory foray which will influence what I do afterwards. So this time, its pay the money, hire a bike & let them do the worrying, while the other punters & I do the riding. I arrive in Buenos Aries on 30 November. After a couple of days sightseeing, the group flies to Ushuaia, where we collect the bikes (BMW F650 GS), then head north, criss crossing the border between the two countries on our way up to Santiago. I then fly back to BsAs to connect with my flight back to Oz, arriving back in Adelaide at 10.30 pm on Christmas Eve. That's the plan --- let's see how it unfolds!

I'M BACK !!

2008-09-14T01:49:00.000-07:00

Back home in Oz, that is ! And I must say it is great to be back safely in one piece, amongst family & friends who I have missed these last 5 months. There were times when I wondered whether I would ever get back at all. For quite a while I have been replaying the trip in my head, just contemplating what has been achieved. I have just re-read Brian & Shirley Rix's book "Two for The Road", and it now takes on a whole new meaning. We went to a lot of the places mentioned in their book, and it is interesting to compare notes. We don't always come to the same conclusions, but in many instances I now had clear images of my own, and I savoured the re-run.

So, what conclusions have I come to, and how do I rate different parts of the trip? Well, let's try each country, one at a time.
SINGAPORE:
The popular images of Singapore, the"shopfront" if you will, are the snazzy retail precincts, the fancy hotels, the great roads, the manicured gardens, and yes, it is impressive. We stayed in the parts they don't promote, and got somewhat of a reality check, but I loved it. We should not have shipped the bikes here, because there is simply too much red tape involved in clearing Customs & getting all the authorisations to use the roads. We were told that in the first place, but did it anyway. D'oh.

MALAYSIA:
Overall, I was very impressed with Malaysia. For a start, it is making rapid progress on many fronts. The standard of living is being improved all the time, through education, technology, and infrastructure. I also get the impression that there is tolerance & respect for diversity. That people generally understand that just because you happen to be a Muslim, you don't have to live in a cave & kill everyone who is not a Muslim. (Pakistan, please take note!!). There is also a great road network, petrol is cheap, and the food is excellent!
Highlights. The chance meeting with the local BMW owners group in Penang. A terrific bunch of people and an awsome group ride up to Thailand.

THAILAND:
Our time in Thailand was marred to a fair extent by the problems I was having with my bike. This ultimately lead to us not having enough time to visit Cambodia as originally planned. Nevertheless, Phuket Bike Week was really something, and I would have liked to watch the Songkran aquatic festivities from a safe distance, rather than as an unwilling participant! So I got a bit wet- so what?
Highlights. First, an excellent ride from Phuket up to Bangkok. Second, the taxi driver who burned out his clutch trying to find our hotel- serves him right for taking us through half the backstreets in Bangkok.

NEPAL:
Our first taste of culture shock. Nepal is India's poor cousin in many ways. Kathmandu is overcrowded & very polluted, but nobody appears to be doing anything about rectifying it. I can well imagine that the first Europeans to stumble into the region would have found it very exotic, & the 600 year old temples around Durbar Square in Patan are wonderful.
Highlights. Sitting in a bar next to one of the main roundabouts in Kathmandu every night, being hilariously entertained by just watching the traffic. Then there was the tout outside the hotel who asked me to buy the same tatty stuff every time I walked out for over a week- gold medal for perseverence & resilience to abuse for him. Walking down the street in Chitwan, trying not to upset all the elephants. The British Gurkha museum in Pokhara is a must.
Lowlights. Picking up a severe stomach bug after eating in a silver service restaurant. Not being able to see any of the Himalayas because of the air pollution. Colliding with the goat goes without saying.

INDIA:
Well, it would be so easy to just slag off about what a dump this place is, but I will try to be more objective. India is very different. Most people would be aware of the overpopulation, the pollution, the poverty , the disease, all that stuff. On top of all that, I found that it is totally disorganised to the point of chaos, everything is a hassle, you get no personal space, everyone wants to take your money, and the traffic is appalling & very dangerous for motorcycles. The heat was stifling & the stench was abominable. But it is cheap! And in its own way, it is an interesting place.
Highlights. The Taj Mahal , no doubt about that. To be fair, we did stay in some excellent hotels, with very helpful & courteous staff. We had a narrow escape from the bombs that killed 80 or so people in Jaipur. A day earlier, we had been in the same street for several hours. A sobering experience indeed.
In Bikaner, we were befriended by a bloke who we thought at first was just another tout, but he ended up taking us to look at the old part of the city, and to a Hindu temple which was closed to the public. We would never have seen these places on our own, and he did not ask for any money, or attempt to take us to his cousin's carpet shop, etc.
Even the one & only time we got genuinely lost (leaving Kanpur) was an interesting experience. I still have no idea where we actually went, but I'm guessing we were the first tourists to ever visit several villages.

PAKISTAN:
A bit of a surprise packet, really. We were expecting it to be worse than India in just about every sense, but reckon it was actually an improvement. Of course, it has to be considered in parts, really. Some parts are as grotty as India for sure, and the security situation meant some parts were out of bounds altogether. Even some parts we were allowed to go were scary. The big problem for Pakistan is getting the tribal areas under control, and then educating the population. If schooling is left to fanatical religious clerics, it will take generations to weed out the lunatics, if it can be done at all. We have seen what can be achieved in some of the more populated areas, and that is encouraging.
Highlights.
The Karakoram Highway, and the Hunza Valley were outstanding, & not just for the scenery. We met some wonderful, friendly & generous people along the way. We were accorded unconditional hospitality in some of the most unlikely regions. I recall leaving Dalbandin, when we were both in pretty poor shape. A little old bloke came up & gave me a cold bottle of water, & flatly refused any money from me. We had other people go well out of their way to help us, particularly in DG Khan. These events were quite humbling, & really are moments to treasure. I hope in some small way that we were able to act as goodwill ambassadors for Australia.
Lowlights.
The perennial roadworks, high temperatures & lack of facilities made Baluchistan the toughest part of the trip, spiced up with a little bit of possible danger from the Taliban. Would not have missed it for quids!

IRAN:
This was always going to be a trip into the unknown. The hassle in getting the visas suggested that things may be difficult, and some of the struggle with beaurocracy was difficult. Organising access to funds, changing money & getting fuel were hassles. The punishing temperatures in the east of the country were demanding. We had no insurance cover for the bikes, so there was a big risk there. The military escorts were welcome, but nonetheless a little scary. But once things settled down, we started to enjoy the place, although we found the food fairly plain. I don't want to get into the politics, but at the time of our visit, I was unaware that in 1953 the CIA & Britain engineered a coup which booted out the elected Prime Minister, Mohammad Mossadegh & installed the Shah. It pays to do some research. Little wonder there is deep resentment & mistrust of the west, at the official level anyway. It could have been a lot different. Anyway, we found all the people we met to be exceptionally friendly & hospitable. I hope that their government does not fail its citizens.

Highlights.

Very interesting cultural & historical sites. Not to mention cheap petrol, excellent roads, & my discovery of sour cherry juice! (I'd like to try it with Bundy). The pastries & confectionery were not bad either.

TURKEY:

Again, a country I was looking forward to, and I was not disappointed. The east of the country is mostly off the tourist radar and is fairly rustic, and there are some security issues with Kurdish separatists. The rapid development of the coastline to cash in on the package tourist trade might be good for the economy, but that's about all. It will probably end up going the way of Spain & the Greek Islands, so visit before it gets buggered up completely.

Highlights.

There were many, but visiting the Gallipoli Peninsula was probably the most significant for me. Goreme was bizzare but very intriguing, while all the places we stopped at along the coast were a knockout. The riding along the coast to Silifke was as good as the Great Ocean Rd, only with less guardrail & more mosques!

Lowlights.

Petrol at $3.60/litre. Substandard road surfaces in much of the country, lots of loose gravel & slick bitumen. Turkish keyboards in the internet cafes take some getting used to.

GREECE:

My first visit to Europe since 1977. The European Union has meant a lot of changes, its virtually one big country now, with a common currency & unrestricted movement within its borders. I enjoyed our run around the coast, & down to the Peloponese. Athens has probably gotten worse, its overcrowded, polluted & still hard to get around, but the underground railway is good.

ITALY:

Again, all the areas we visited were new to me. From a tourist point of view, I found the south to be very relaxed & the north to be very attractive. Great food & a great lifestyle.

SWITZERLAND:

Just about perfect I reckon, at least while we were there. Not sure if I could hack the Winters though. Fantastic to catch up with Ivo & Jacqueline, and a pity we could not stay longer.

FRANCE:
A quick dash, but no complaints at all. Its all there.

ENGLAND:
Had to break out the wet weather gear as soon as we got there, and then the warm clothes. We only got a couple of days when we could get out to ride around the countryside, & it was supposed to be Summer! However, it was indeed good to renew my acquaintance with the green & pleasant land generally, and the English pubs specifically. The food has gotten a lot better, but the traffic has gotten a lot worse, but you could say the same about Adelaide. Look, I really like the Poms, but its those white buggers I have trouble with.
Had a lot of time to browse around the bike shops, and made a few good value purchases. The Hein Gericke brand of riding apparel looks to be excellent - I don't think it is available in Australia- so we both lashed out there.
Ok thats it, thanks for watching. Until next time - South America beckons!!!

Regards, Mike Green.

2008-08-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

ASSORTED PHOTOS:

Funeral Ghats, Kathmandu

The plaque outside the Gurkah Museum, Pokhara, Nepal.

Dust storm, Rajasthan, India

Snake charmers, Jaipur. (Stand well back & throw the money!!)

Hey, you. Yes, you. What are you looking at??

A bunch of galahs at the closing ceremony, Wagah border crossing, between India & Pakistan.

Same place, next day, looking towards Pakistan (not without some trepidation!)

Karakoram Highway, Pakistan

Part of the old Silk Road, Karakoram Highway

Police checkpoint, between Islamabad & Mianwali, Pakistan. Smiles all round!

The road to Lorelai, Pakistan. Behind the truck another is bogged in a creek. We got through ok, but had to wear some mud.

Lorelai Police compound, see what I mean.

The highway east of Lorelai, dry but soft in places.

The main street of Dalbandin, western Pakistan, from the VIP room of our hotel.

Sand drift over the road, between Dalbandin & Taftan, Pakistan.

Police escort, between Zahedan & Bam, eastern Iran

Roadside stops, Iran

Roadside mosque, Iran

View of the snow peaked Mt. Ararat (on the Turkish- Armenian border) taken from Iran.

The bizarre "fairy chimneys" of Goreme, central Turkey.

The not quite so bizarre Trulli Houses, Alberobello, Puglia, Italy.

THERE IS NOW A BIG GAP TILL THE REST OF THE BLOG. KEEP SCROLLING DOWN!

GREECE TO ENGLAND

2008-08-10T04:11:00.000-07:00

Hello Again Readers! Some of you have been wondering what we have been up to. Thank you for your concern, but I am happy to report that all is well. I will admit to being slack. I will put some photos up soon, but here is the continuing story. We crossed into Greece near Alexandropouli, named after guess who, quite uneventfully. The Greeks wanted to see the Carnet but didn't stamp it, & also asked for the International Drivers Licence (for the first time) & Green Card for insurance. That was it, we filled up & we were gone. After about 30 minutes on the motorway we were passed by two guys on sports bikes, doing about 180-200kph, one wearing shorts showing about 2 inches of bum crack. This is different, we thought. We had hardly seen any other big bikes since Singapore, and not much bum crack either, fortunately.

That was about to change. From Alexandropouli, down to Larisa, then to Athens, there were bikes everywhere. Unlike Australia, the preference seems to be for big twins like the Suzuki V-Strom, Honda Varadero, Africa Twin & Transalp, Yamaha TD900, and lots of the supermotard type of bike. Oh yes, & lots of KTM's & Ducatis. Every time the lights change, it is race time!

The ride down to Athens was routine, but quite scenic along sections of the coast, and every so often some nice fast bendy sections to switch the brain back on. But I must remember to watch the left hand mirror, some of the traffic just screams past out of nowhere. Athens itself is huge, & quite hard to navigate. We got lost for about an hour, trying to find our hotel. An Aussie guy from Melbourne (where else?) stopped to chat when he saw the Aussie numberplates, & helped us out.

Greece is ultra touristy, espacially the islands. So the plan was always to go down to the south of Greece, the Peloponese, and look for small fishing villages to stay in, to avoid the crowds. We moved down to Nafplio, which I had never heard of, but it was actually the first capital of a united Greece, and a very interesting place. Very popular with Greeks as a holiday destination. A great castle on top of a hill overlooking the town & coastline, plus all the usual waterfront cafes & bars, but without the rip off tourist prices. From there we headed for Kalamata. We found some interesting roads through the mountains. Consider 180 degree hairpin bends, one after another, with a steep gradient thrown in for good measure. This was a first for me, as there are not too many first gear corners near Adelaide!! We didn't particularly like Kalamata, it was a bit industrial, and the esplanade was a constant torrent of super motard engines screaming in the bottom gears. So we headed for Pylos, which was far better & quieter. I must be getting old!! Anyway, there were bushfires somewhere on the peninsula, and from the waterfront we were able to watch the tanker planes reloading with seawater to dump on the fires. From there up to Kilini, and then on to Patra, where we caught the overnight ferry to Brindisi, Italy.

We had arranged to stay with Gill & Mike, friends of Chris's from England, who have a holiday house at nearby Ostuni. This turned into a very enjoyable if hectic week. We were able to do a lot of riding to nearby towns, often stopping for a meal, some sightseeing, swimming, or just for coffee. We ate too much & we drank too much. Tough work, but it had to be done! We loved Ostuni, and appreciated the hospitality of our very generous hosts. When it was time to leave, we headed for Switzerland to visit Ivo & Jacqueline, who had just finished their 3 year round the world odyssey. This was a long way from the south of Italy, so we headed for the motorway, & resigned ourselves to some long & possibly boring stretches on the bikes. The monotony was regularly interrupted by some very expensive hardware boring past in the fast lane. The most memorable was a black Lambourghini which merged from a side lane. Chris opened up just enough throttle to goad the driver, & so he floored it & virtually disappeared! I must admit to never hearing an exhaust note quite like it (jets excluded), it rattled my eyeballs. We also noted some Ferraris, and plenty of German machinery as well. The motorways are good, but they are expensive- in two days we forked over about $60 in fees, and petrol sells for about $2.50 per litre. It was interesting to see the countryside gradually change from the rocky and dry south, with its white houses & olive trees to the fertile pasture land in the centre, through to the more industrial areas in the north (not that we saw the real industrial centres).

We had overnight stops in Ancona & Bergamo, both lovely towns with splendid architecture, before reaching the Lake Como area. The scenery here was quite spectacular, and its really is a beautiful part of the world-with prices to match. But we didn't hang around & we crossed into Switzerland, after spending €30 on a Swiss motorway pass which nobody even looked at. We headed into the mountains aiming for the San Bernadino Pass, but missed it & ended up in the alternative tunnel instead. Never mind, it was still a great ride. One thing about Italian & Swiss tunnels is the weird feeling I get, its like you are actually inside some bizzare video game! Many of the tunnels have curves and a lot have two way traffic, so to have a truck coming at you while negotiating a bend inside dark noisy tunnel with all kinds of flashing lights whizzing past is a new experience for me, and one I did not get completely used to.

Swizerland is a wonderfully clean and ordered place which, as well as having great scenery, really appeals to me. It was a very pleasant ride through to Winterthur, where we caught up with Ivo & Jacqueline, friends I had not seen for two years since they departed SA to continue their marathon round the world trip on their R80GS. We had lots of notes to compare, and it was great to be able to reminisce over the highs & lows of India, Pakistan & Iran. We were even able to conclude that we actually stayed in the same room as they did in the Fleapit Arms Hotel in Dalbandin! (well, there's not a lot of choice). We were able to get out for a ride in the area around Winterthur, and went up to the Rhine Falls & Lake Constanz. This involved a brief entry into Germany, where a couple of bored border guards on a backroad looked at Ivo's Swiss numberplate, asked if we were all together, and then waved us through, only to see the strange Aussie numberplates disappearing rapidly. No passports or carnets required there! And Ivo is a hard man keep up with on his home turf, he kept leaving us way behind. It was most unfortunate that we could not stay longer in Winterthur, but time was tight & we had to push on to the UK.

That meant France, so we headed off to the west on the motorways, going to Basle, and crossing into France in the Alsace region of the north east. Again, another teriffic cultural & scenic experience, with vineyards everywhere. We stopped for lunch at a cafe in the hills, and noticed a nearby intersection with bikes coming & going in all directions- this was obviously prime bike territory. We were not disappointed on the run down to St Die des Vognes, where we stayed the night. Next day we headed for Riems, home to a wonderful cathederal which we had a look at, then headed to Calais. I had not been to the north/east of France before, and it was interesting to note all the road signs carrying familiar names of the World War 1 battlefields, & to see all the memorials and cemeteries. Once again, it was hard to reconcile the beautiful rural landscapes before us with those familiar WW1 images of total devastation in this part of the country.

We chose to use the Channel Tunnel for the crossing to England. Ride the bikes straight into the train carriage in Calais, and ride them out at Folkestone 35 minutes later. It could not have been easier. However, this is England, and dark clouds loomed above! It started to rain shortly after we got onto the motorway. And the M25 is not known as the world's biggest car park for nothing. Traffic was backed up for miles. We were either splitting lanes or wondering what was up ahead in the spray. We arrived at our final destination, Chris's mum's place in Solihull, just near Birmingham, cold and very wet. I am sure that his 4 hour ordeal was God's way of telling us that you cannot expect to ride halfway round the world on a motorcycle & not get wet, even if it is the last days of a 5 month, 18,500 km journey.

That's just about it from me, but I will put up some more photos, and anything else of interest in the next week or two. Thanks for following the story, it has been a great experience for me, and also great to know that friends were concerned for our welfare, especially during the tough times. I also hope that fellow bikers found the whole thing interesting. And a big thank you to those of you who took the trouble to post a comment, I really appreciate it.

Would I do it again? Too right I would! Could I do it again? Hmmmm!

Back in Adelaide soon.

TROY & GALLIPOLI

2008-07-10T08:14:00.000-07:00

On the way up from Foçe, we followed the coast for about 50km, fabulous vıews, & many beautıful secluded beaches. Then we took the motorway north & headed for Çannakkale. One major problem İ have notıced wıth Turkısh roads ıs thıs. On the spray sealed sectıons, the bıtumen has bled up through the stone wearıng course, particularly on the wheel tracks, & formed a smooth slıck on the surface. In hot weather (ıe now) thıs softens ın the heat, to the point where you can actually see the tyre prints in ıt. Go ınto a corner too hard & the whole surface could just gıve way. In the wet ıt must be deadly, even for cars, & İ am sure thıs contrıbutes to the allegedly horrendous road crash statistıcs ın Turkey. Someone really goofed on thıs one, bıg tıme, because ıt ıs a problem we have noticed all over the country.

After a short but steep & (haıry!) clımb, we reached the top of the plateau. We detoured to the sıte of ancıent Troy. Interestıng, ıntrıguıng even, but there ıs bugger all left but a few stone footıngs & the odd bıt of wall. And ıts mıles from the sea. None of your Brad Pıtt leapıng out of the boat, sprıntıng across the beach & hackıng ınto people. Booked ınto the unfortunately named Otel Anafartala, rıght on the waterfront agaın, wıth a great vıew of the Hellespont. The amount of sea traffıc that uses thıs narrow straıght ıs staggerıng. You can see oodles of ships at a tıme, followıng one another ın or out. Look at a map & you wıll see why. Its the only entrance to the Sea of Marmora & the Black Sea, & the only sea access that several countries have.

Next mornıng we took the ferry across to the Gallıpolli Penınsula, to vısıt the battlefıeld. What can İ say about Gallıpoli that hasn't been saıd. İn a blog about motorcycling, nothıng, except thıs: The ANZAC story & the Gallipoli campaign are deeply etched into the Australian psyche. Its an integral part of who we are and how we choose to define ourselves. The ANZAC spirit is something we like to think we all have & can draw on as required. We get the job done, we play hard, we look after our mates & we don't quit, and this has sustained us in numerous conflicts & sporting contests ever since, and allowed us to punch well above our weight. This is the place that spirit came from. This unremarkable little beach at the base of the cliffs, separated from the sea by a series of gullies & ravines, the worst possible place for an amphibious landing against an entrenched enemy dug in at the top of the cliffs, belies the carnage that took place here in 1915. Its all quiet now, just rows & rows of headstones silently recording the deaths of so many young men, mostly in their early twenties, in this alien landscape so far from home. The well known words of Mustapha Kemal Ataturk, about them now being our sons as well, are inscribed on a large stone tablet at Ari Burnu cemetery, & I defy anyone to read them without feeling intense emotion. I couldn't, but I am very glad to have visited this place which is so important in our history, and to have felt the ANZAC spirit which I think is palpable here. We owe a great debt to all those men of courage who by their actions gave all future generations of Australians so much to inspire us.

I also learned that Gallipoli is very important to others as well. The peninsula covers a large area & there are numerous memorials to visit. We could not visit them all, but did go to the New Zealand memorial at Lone Pine, and to the principal Turkish memorial. I was surprised at the number of Turkish visitors on the peninsular, but clearly many families were touched by the huge losses sustained by the Turks in defending their country, & ultimately through the vision & leadership of Ataturk this gave rise to the modern Turkish state that exists today. It could so easily have become a basket case like many other countries in the region. On the ferry across, I particularly enjoyed talking to some Turkish schoolkids on a bus trip to the peninsula to learn their history. They were keen to practice their English & were interested in the bikes & that we were from Australia. Elsewhere, other locals expressed similar interest, & I think they understood the need we have to visit Gallipoli. I was also reminded of what a shopkeeper said to us in Cappadocia, a long way away from Gallipoli. "A long time ago, our countries fight. But now we are friends" I'll drink to that, long may it be so.
After this, we moved on up to Istanbul for two days. A very large but interesting city. The splendid architecture of the numerous mosques was a highlight, although I couldn't help freaking myself out by having flashbacks to the movie Midnight Express from time to time. I was also staggered to see the shipping in the harbour. I did a rough count & got 40, all parked to go through the Bosphorus Straight into the Black Sea.
I really enjoyed Turkey & all the people we met. Now, onwards to Greece.

From here I intend to ease up on the blogging a bit, its just Europe now, & everyone knows all about it anyway. But we still have a lot of riding to do. We have just hit the 14,000 km mark, the bike sounds a bit rattley, like it really needs a service, and so do I! Bye for now.

PHOTOS PAKİSTAN,İRAN,TURKEY

2008-07-08T04:37:00.000-07:00

PAKİSTAN.

The long, long road to Lorelai. Note my top box ıs strapped up due to a broken bolt.

The desolate Baluchistan regıon of Pakistan.

Dalbandin, Pakıstan. Buyıng petrol out of jerry cans ıs the only way to get any. We antıcıpated thıs & had a fılter.

Sand over the Hıghway, Pakistan, near the İranıan border. Surprise, surprise !!! We also saw large herds of wıld camels ın thıs area.

Pakistani trucks, they compete wıth one another for the most ornate paınt job, and for how far they can overload axles.

Typıcal Pakistani signage. This one says "For a good tıme, rıng Abdul......"

This is Abdul.

This one says "Go the Power".....İranıan branch of the Supporters Club.
İRAN.

İran. The remaıns of Persepolıs, as destroyed by Alexander the Great. İn İran, they just call hım Alexander, the worlds greatest vandal. İ must agree.

İran, tomb of Kıng Darıus 1st of Persia, cut ınto the sıde of a mountaın.

The magnıfıcent Imam Square & Mosque, Esfahan, İran

Brıdge ın Esfahan, Iran. Cırca 13th century.

İranıan mosques tend to have very ornate tıled domes, they really are spectacular.

Roadside Mosque, İran

On the road to Tehran. Thats Tehran, with a T.

TURKEY.

Turkısh Mosques have metal clad domes, and are a flatter shape, but are no less ornate than theır İranıan counterparts.

The bizarre landscape at Goreme, Cappadocıa, Central Turkey.

The Remaıns of The Great Lıbrary of Ephesus, Turkey.

The Amphitheatre at Ephesus, capacıty 25,000.

The vıew from our Hotel balcony, Foçe, Turkey. Reward for the struggle!! Its every bıt as good as ıt looks.

TURKEY

2008-06-30T07:54:00.000-07:00

I know I am way behind in posting photos, & I have some goodies, but I will put it right as soon as I can. We are currently in Goreme, central Turkey. We took a good couple of hours to cross the border, & that was with some preferential treatment. We both really enjoyed Iran. We found the people with whom we dealt, & numerous others we met in the street, to be exceptionally friendly, genuinely interested in us & Australia, and generally a savvy and cultured group of people, & very western oriented, quite at odds with the sort of diatribe from the top that gets all the publicity. Although as we were leaving, just before we entered the border zone, we noticed an American & an Israeli flag painted on the road. It took a second or two for the penny to drop, but the idea was that all the drivers could insult both countries by driving over the flags. Nice touch, & as I said, quite at odds with the courtesy & generosity we encountered. There is no shortage of pizza joints, burgers, coke , pepsi, Mack trucks, & the only cash they will take at banks is US dollars. So go figure!

Anyway, we crossed into Turkey, & immediately the standard of the roads fell away rapidly. Back to potholes & all kinds of bumps. But, we now have insurance cover again, & we can get BEER. We stayed at the nearest town to the border, Dogubeyazit, & escaped early next day. We decided to abandon our southerly route due to the internal security problems here, & instead headed north to Erzincan & Sivas, then to here. It was some solid riding, but the weather is cool, & its very pleasant riding. We cant remember the last time it was cool! We still ended up going through 4 army checkpoints. Once they see the Aussie passports, they just wave us through. It is becoming clear to us that Aussies are respected in Turkey for obvious historic reasons, & the history is important to both countries. More later.

Goreme is a fairly bizzare sort of place, in more ways than one. It is what is left after a large valley was eroded, but the remnants are a huge number of rock pinnacles, some of which have been hollowed out naturally, and some by human intervention. People have been living here since the year dot, but more recently, others have started converting the pinnacles into habitable structures. The hotel Kelebek where we stayed is part cave, part sandstone blocks. The whole place looks like Middle Earth as in The Hobbit, or even Bedrock from The Flintstones.
We then headed straight for the Mediterranean coast, and ended up at great little spot called Fethiye for 2 days, then moved on to another nice spot at Celcuk for another 2 days. We will check out the remnants of the Great Library of Ephesus, one of the ancient wonders of the world while we are here. Efes is how you refer to Ephesus in Turkish, and I note with interest that the main brand of beer in Turkey is Efes. Gotta love that! Matter of fact, I think Ill have one right now.

FURTHER INTO IRAN

2008-06-24T04:22:00.000-07:00

From Shiraz, we changed the program slightly to give us more time to recover from the flogging we copped riding across the Baluchistan desert. We decided not to go to Yazd, & spent the extra time in Esfahan, which we both liked. It is a tidy & well maintained city, with tree lined streets, & lots of parks. The highlight was Imam Square, which is a huge open square, surrounded by a bazaar, and with a huge mosque at one end, (& another in the middle). Really very impressive. On the Friday night, we noticed that a favourite local pastime was to take a picnic tea down along the riverbank at dusk. There were thousands of family groups involved. Not a drunken yobbo in sight to spoil the family atmosphere. Maybe thats our problem! And next morning, no mess along the riverbanks. We then moved up to Tehran, we had been warned about the traffic, and it is pretty crazy, but not as bad as India.

We took the bikes in to the BMW dealership for some TLC. You should have seen the colour of the old oil, I reckon we must have cooked it properly!! Anyway the dealership is run by the legendary Mr Ali Nouriani, a man whose reputation precedes him amongst overland bikers. Mr Nouriani is a most kind & generous man, & he graciously extended many courtesies to us, for which we are very grateful, almost to the point of embarrassment. Tomorrow we leave for Tabriz, & then into Turkey. It will be reassuring to have insurance cover for the bikes again. Iran was the only country where no one would cover us. Mr Nouriani offered to sort that for us, but we figured that we just need to be ultra careful for another few days.

Have to say afew words about the Iranian monetary system. Its confusing. For a start, the exchange rate is 9,300 rials to the dollar. So you change $100 and have a roll of notes that would choke a camel. All the notes have oodles of zeros on them, and a small purchase sees you forking over notes for about a minute. On a large bill, like a hotel, we have broken the million rial mark.
To make matters worse, everyone just drops a zero, so when someone says a thing costs a hundred, they really mean a thousand. Got it? I have been here a week & I still haven't.
Petrol costs 4,000 rials a litre. Sounds expensive, doesnt it? Well its only40 cents. We will get our come uppance in Turkey where we hear its about $6/litre. That is real pain at the pump!
Photos and further commentary to follow asap.

IRAN

2008-06-17T03:04:00.000-07:00

Greetings, Friends, One & All. We made it from Quetta to the border, & are currently in Shiraz (oh, if only that was the literal truth, I could drink a swimming pool full of it!!). The road from Quetta to the border was, contrary to expectations, quite good. The problem it seems is just who to listen to when you start asking about road conditions. However, it was very hot & dry, and the hotels we stayed in in Dalbandin & Taftan, on the Paki side of the border, were just vile. At Taftan we stayed at the PTDC guest house. The taps just trickled, the shower didnt work, the toilets didn't flush (someone else found that out before me!), & there was no airconditioning. This at the end of a long hot ride, two days in a row wears you down. The quote we got was 600 rupees for the room, but by next morning, the price had changed to 600 each. We knew the slimy little toad who claims to be the manager was getting into us, but figured there was not much we could do, considering our location. We met a Dutch couple a few days later, who said the same thing happened to them. Any way, next morning we fronted up at the border, only to be told we had a long wait. Finally, we made it through, but we were too buggered to go much further. This time, we had to have an army escort all the way to Zahedan, the nearest town of any size, & also from there to Bam. The section from Zahedan to Bam was a test of endurance, We could have done it in about 4 hours on our own, but with the escort, it took 8, because they stopped every few miles to change it. Invariably we had to wait, & there was no shade. This is the most barren, desolate part of the earth I have ever seen. Rocks & sand, & boiling hot wind, nothing else. It must be like the surface of Mercury!! The escort got my attention when they rocked up with a heavy calibre machine gun in the back of the Hilux, & the driver said " go, ....& dont stop".

Anyway we finally got to Bam, & to the legendary Akbars Guest House. Mr Akbar is truly one of nature's gentlemen, a man you could not possibly dislike. He is doing it tough after the big earthquake which destroyed most of Bam a few years ago, killing 26,000 people in the process, but is still open for business. One of the problems we had first up was getting petrol. You have to have a prepaid card, but we couldnt find anyone who spoke enough English to get it sorted for us. Next minute , we are in Mr Akbars car, we collected a VIP on the way, & we are in the Governor's office!! Talk about contacts! We ended up with some official fuel vouchers, but once we left this region, we found people willing to sell fuel for cash.

So, the section of road from Fort Munro to Quetta remains the worst of the trip, it is now behind us, security issues should be a thing of the past & we are in a more pleasant part of the country, & from here it should all be a steady improvement. I am hoping the few days rest we are having here will recharge the batteries. Iran is a surprise packet. We are clearly in the Middle East, & have left the Indian Subcontinent. People (males) are fairly westernised in terms of dress, the roads are excellent. You can buy Coke & 7UP, you can, obviously, use the web. The food is also quite different, but more of that later.

PAKISTAN TO IRAN

2008-06-09T21:00:00.000-07:00

Greetings Friends, We have finally obtained visas for Iran. We are currently in Quetta, out in the west of Pakistan, about 2 days ride from the Iranian border. We were glad to get out of Islamabad, where we indulged in various types of food that we hadn't seen in ages, like pizza, & steak. It was good to get back on the bikes after 2 weeks of not riding. We had some advice about where not to go, so we changed our planned route. We headed south generally following the Indus, to Mianwali, then down to Dera Ghazi Khan (DG Khan). We arrived at about 2pm, tired & hot, ready to find a hotel. Then the fun started. A very nice local chap, M. Arshad Khan, owner of a servo, took us to a hotel, (and all we did for him in return was to waste most of his Saturday afternoon) but apparently, foreigners are not allowed to stay in DGK, because of security issues, unless they have permission. We didn't. So we then sought out the local administrative big cheese & threw ourselves on his mercy. He was quite good about the whole thing, but it was too iffy. He ended up suggesting a hotel a good few k's back, & we were ok with that. We were on our way out when we got stopped by a cop next to a major intersection. He wanted to know what we were doing in DGK. Next minute there are people all over us, ogling us & the bikes in a way we had not seen since India. Eventually, a police jeep turned up, & we had an armed police escort out of town. We tried to explain that we wanted a nearby hotel, but we ended up being escorted all the way back to Multan, about 100 km back. Every 25 km or so, there was a new team of cops who picked us up. I was actually quite impressed with the way they put this thing together so quickly. At one stage we even had the local SWAT team as an escort, and they sat on about 80-100 kph, with lights flashing & horn blaring. We just tucked in behind the jeep & it was the easiest bit of riding we have done in Pakistan, only problem was we were heading in the exact opposite direction we needed to go. But it did make one feel important!!! We got taken to the Ramada in Multan. It was great, but it wasn't cheap, & we had to travel all the way back through DGK the following day, again with the police escort.

Out west, we can still pull a crowd, just by stopping!

On the way through a small town, there was a dope on a bicycle wobbling around the centre of the road, not taking much notice of the Swat teams approach. On the way past, a cop leaned out the jeep window, & gave the guy a solid clip around the ear! I spent the next couple of minutes chuckling. In another place, a tuk tuk driver cut Chris off, & a traffic cop appeared from nowhere & gave the driver a real hard belt on the side of the head for ignoring the motorcade. Pity the cops in Australia can't do that anymore, I say.

Anyway, this turned out to be a long day, as we had to get all the way to Lorelai, & had a 100km deficit to make up. Near Fort Munro we were held up while a rockfall was cleared up in the pass. A bit later on, my top box came loose. More delay. I had the brackets modified in Oz before we left, as I anticipated the box would cop a pummeling. The brackets were fine, but I had snapped one of the main mounting bolts. We strapped it up & continued, knowing the real rough stuff still lay ahead. Our enquiries as to the state of the roads had all indicated that the road to Lorelai was good. It wasn't! Almost the whole of it was being worked on, & there were numerous diversions. At one stage, we found ourselves on a sandhill, following a couple of tyre tracks, no sign of a road anywhere. During the next few hours, we copped the lot. Potholes, soft gravel, sand, powdery bulldust, mud, slippery gullies, even a dust storm, as if it wasn't hard enough. We passed through a gully in which a truck & a van were fairly hopelessly bogged, just after I took this photo, as it happens.

Its pretty desolate out here.

Through a small but very bustling town on the way to Lorelai , there was a bloke standing right in the middle of the road with his trousers down, & no underwear on. Dare not stop for a photo, but I'm guessing the guy is not getting the medication he needs!! We finally got to Lorelai & its fair to say it's a hole. We were looking for a guesthouse selected from the Lonely Planet, but couldn't find it. We soon ended up in the police station, and again soon pulled a crowd. Trouble was they were all cops or their kids, & there wasn't much we could do about it, but really we didn't mind, as the police have been terrific.

There is always a bunch of kids whose dads want them to sit on the bike. for a photo op. But I get to keep the photos!

After about 2 hours of being grilled (in a nice way, we were offered a cup of green tea) by the local Special Branch, they took us to the "best hotel in town". I can't imagine what the others must be like!! This joint cost us 300 rupees, thats $4.60, for the night. It had no air conditioning, a squat toilet which had no water trap (& therefore stank to high heaven), a blocked drain in the shower, so we were soon in ankle deep water. The bed linen was dirty. Anyway, we got there at about 8.30pm, showered & crashed, too tired to eat tea. This, after the Ramada! Next morning, as I went out the front door to start loading the bike, there were two cops with the ever popular AK47's waiting for us , to escort us out of town, without breakfast. I was beginning to take the security thing seriously, just call it a hunch.

At this point I want to say a few words about the Pakistani people we have met. From my perspective, they are very welcoming, generous & friendly. A couple of days back, we had people buy us drinks no less than six times, & no one would take any money. One bloke invited us into his shop (he sold mobile phones), sat us down in front of an air conditioner, & brought out two glasses of tea, laced with salt & lemon, different, but quite a tonic. We have learned to say the Pakistani greeting A-salaam alai koom (loosely translated as "go in peace" or something similar), & it goes down really well. Once you say it, you get the double handed shake, & usually a big smile, although that may be due to my Pakistani accent! Sometimes people who had a bit of English would come straight up & ask right out what religion we were, which we found amusing. Out on the road, a bloke came up to us on little scooter, & said how honoured he was that we should choose to visit his country. This been our experience the whole way through Pakistan. But unfortunately, out west we have been attracting some long stares, not all of them friendly, and you just start to feel uneasy, especially when the cops don't want to let us out of their sight. From here, we just want to make Iran asap.

Yesterday, we headed for Quetta, soon entering a mountain pass where it was at least cooler. Before too long, we were back in amongst the roadworks, and we covered at least another 100km of unsealed road, but it was not as bad as the previous day. Nevertheless, I spent a lot of time standing on the pegs, & my legs were getting fairly sore. The Fastway footpegs I fitted are superb, wide & comfortable & very solid. In fact, the bike handled the road conditions beautifully. We had a booking at the Serena Hotel in Quetta, back to our usual standard (9,000 rupees a night), and are resting today. When we leave here, we have two nights at what we expect will be very dodgy accomodation, and two days of hard physical riding to reach Iran. This is the section of road which we expect will be the worst of the whole trip. Then a whole lot of new issues to deal with. For a start, Iran will be the first country on our trip where the traffic drives on the right. There are no ATMs, we have to change US dollars at a bank. Vouchers are required to buy fuel. And our itinerary for Iran is also fairly tough, with some big mileage days. Anyway, we will manage. And just quietly, I am dying for a beer. We have been dry for three weeks, with another two to go. Its a record for me!

ISLAMABAD

2008-06-02T23:46:00.000-07:00

Here is the latest following the car bomb blast at the Danish embassy here yesterday (Monday 2 June). As I said yesterday, we were outside, & facing the direction of the blast. We heard it go off, & we saw the plume of smoke that followed a few seconds later. We knew almost immediately that it was not normal, & it was surprisingly close, only 1.5 km away apparently. Within 10 minutes it was on local TV, & by mid afternoon it was all over the media thru CNN, BBC etc. I found the whole thing pretty disturbing, I must say, & didn't sleep too well last night.

The reason we are still in Islamabad is that we are awaiting our Iranian visas, which has been an ongoing saga all on its own. Islamabad has a secure Diplomatic Enclave containing most of the foreign embassies. Evidently the Danish embassy is outside that area, & is located in a residential street, so it was easy for the bomber to just drive straight up to it.

Late last night we got an email from our intermediary in Iran notifying us that the Iranian visa application had the OK from Tehran, & was ready for collection from the local embassy. We are not even sure that they will give it to us straight away, it may take another day or so to process here. We were apprehensive about going to the embassy, but had no choice, so we took a taxi to the Enclave. There were police & army absolutely all over the place, including machine gun emplacements with sandbags, the whole bit. All the guys with weapons had large ammo pouches on as well. We knew then that this was not going to be a quick process. It turns out that you can only get so close to this area in a car anyway. You get dropped off at a special bus station, & go through an identity check & a body frisk before you get on the bus which then takes you on a tour of the Enclave, & you get off when the guy calls out your particular embassy. Sort of like a very down market version of Florida's Disney World!! After going through all this crap, we finally got to the Iranian Embassy only to be told by a pair of eyes & nostrils poking through a small hatch that it was closed today, because of a holiday (in Iran, if you don't mind), so we have to go do it all over again tomorrow. I am beginning to despair of ever getting the ******* visa at all. However, we are on the brink, & will soon be heading west into bandit territory. Hope to be in touch when we get to the other side.

INDIA TO PAKISTAN

2008-05-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

All our regular readers are expressing concern at the length of time I have remained silent. Well, here are the excuses. The day we left Bikaner, I was actually feeling fairly crook, and it was stinking hot. Thought it was the heat stress, dehydration etc. I was very lethargic, & felt slightly dizzy. We headed north towards Amritsar, had an overnight stop at a very forgettable place called Bathinda, where it was stinking hot, then to Amritsar, where it was still stinking hot. I just crashed out for two days, trying to recover. We had a look at the golden temple, the holiest place in all Sikhdom. I might as well have been looking at the seventh largest ball of string in the world, for all I cared at that stage. We also went to the border closing ceremony at Wagah, where the Indian & Paki armies do the silly walks, and taunt each other, while the crowds yell their heads off. It was a boiling hot yawn for me, but as long as they keep doing that & not shooting each other, I guess its OK. You may have gathered by now that I did not enjoy India, but we were both concerned that Pakistan would be even worse, so it was with some trepidation that we approached the same border post the next day.

After clearing the Indian side, where to their credit they actually checked the engine & VIN numbers against the Carnets believe it or not, we got to the Pakistani side. Surprise number 1, the immigration & customs building was brand new & squeaky clean, airport quality. Surprise number 2, the officials were friendly & efficient, & they checked the bikes against the carnet as well. Away we went, & while the first few kilometers were fairly grotty, the road wasn't bad. Lahore is quite close to the border, & we were there in no time. Surprise number 3, the traffic all drives on the left, stops at traffic lights, & obeys instructions from the traffic police. Surprise number 4. The streets were wide, & lined with trees, & it all looked fairly pleasant. We made it to the Holiday Inn, where the first thing I did was to arrange to see a doctor, because I was still feeling lousy. I got some magic tablets & improved almost immediately. All things considered, the outlook was improving!

Some things we did pick up on were that there is a sense of underlying tension in Lahore, with security measures being highly visible. The Holiday Inn had the usual external security measures, uniformed armed guards, etc, but there was also an airport type metal detector inside the front doors. One morning we noticed they were using mirrors to check underneath cars going into the underground car park. As this was where the bikes were parked, good thing I say!

Near the main Government buildings there were cops in full riot gear, dressed up like baseball catchers. This does get you thinking. And being a muslim country, the call to prayer booms out over the city six times a day, so you can't miss that either. When we left the Holiday Inn for Islamabad, the general manager had arranged to see us off out the front, with an official photographer, the whole bit! And we got a gift pack containing a Tshirt & cap. Although we could see no reason for this treatment, other than the fact that they may have thought we were deranged, we appreciated the gesture. We were starting to like Pakistan.

The mosque in Lahore. Typical Mughal architecture, & the inspiration for the Taj Mahal.

The 300km ride up to Islamabad was uneventful, other than we discovered that servos sell all sorts of stuff, just like home. Lunch was back on the agenda!! In India, they sell petrol, that's it. Not even engine oil, let alone a cold drink. We also noted there are servos that sell CNG only (thats compressed natural gas), the cars on the road appear to be mostly new, or at least in good nick, unlike India, where anything with wheels is out on the road. There are also quite a few fast food outlets with the usual suspects having an obvious presence. Here they don't worship cows, they eat them. Bewdy!!

Islamabad itself on first sight is vaguely reminiscent of Canberra. Its a planned city, set out on a grid system, & has wide tree lined avenues, & generally looks neat (if you don't look too hard), & there are no heaps of garbage everywhere, like you know where. OK thats all I'll say on that subject. While we waited for our Iranian Visas to be issued, we had a few days to kill, so we hired a car & driver & headed on up the Karakoram Highway (KKH). It was great to be able to relax & enjoy the views without the stress of staying alive, although we had to hustle a bit. We had a 15 hour day to start with.

We went up as far as the Batura Glacier , about 800km from Islamabad, and the scenery was sublime. WARNING: TECHNICAL CONTENT. For a Civil Engineer, there is a great deal of interest in the construction of the highway, only completed in 1978, and it is also interesting to observe large scale geology in action. The mountain ranges are still being formed by tectonic plates bashing into each other, you have glaciers dumping moraine into the valleys, (the debris is hundreds of meters deep in places) & then the rivers carving it up. And this is also the earthquake capital of the world. At one point you can see all three of the main ranges, the Himalayas, the Karakorums, and the Hindu Kush, and two of the main rivers, the Gilgit & the mighty Indus. The point is marked by a monument.They are in the process of building a hydro electric scheme on the Indus, which will change the country permanently, so see it yourself soon. In this vast natural landscape, one feels about as significant as a pebble!! Please enjoy the following photos taken along the KKH.

Terraced plots, with ox drawn plough.

Typical shots of the road. Note, no guard rails.

Typical glacial moraine

Sediment eroded by the river

The Cathedral Peaks near Passu

Public transport on the KKH....hang on.

The peak of Mt Rakaposhi, taken from our hotel balcony.

On the way up, we were stopped at a village by an angry looking mob who had blocked the road, and set fire to a pile of tyres. A bit of a worry, I thought. The driver made some inquiries, & it turned out this mob was protesting about the lack of mobile phone coverage in the region! We waited about 45 minutes, then it was all over, & we went on our way. I also reckon I saw Osama bin Whatsit about three hundred times while we were up there. He looked a lot like this guy.

But if ObL really is hiding out in this region, they are never going to find him, let alone mount any sort of successful military operation. There is a long history of unsuccessful military ventures in this part of the world, & its easy to see why. The logistics are a nightmare. Historically, and even now, the inhabitants mind their own business, & fiercely defend their own turf. In many of the valleys, they don't even particularly want to be part of Pakistan, but they'll take the phone towers. In fact, as this is part of the old Silk Route, there is a strong sense of action based on mutual benefit. In other words, we will trade with you if you have something we want, otherwise bugger off.

Our next move is to head west to Quetta, & then to the Iranian border. It will take us a week to get to Iran, and this section may well be the toughest part of the whole trip. We will be in Iran for two weeks. So, don't worry, butI may not be able to blog again for another 3 weeks. Till then.

STOP PRESS: At 1 pm this afternoon, Monday 2 July, Chris & I had just left a cafe over the road from our lodgings, when we heard a seriously loud explosion, followed by a heavy plume of smoke, & not too far away either. Jesus H Christ, do you reckon that might have been a bomb?? It was indeed, in fact a car bomb outside the Danish Embassy, & it was only about 1.5 km away! I'd like to go now, thanks.

INDIA, CONTINUED

2008-05-15T06:01:00.000-07:00

After Agra, we pushed further west to Jaipur, the capital of the state of Rajasthan. Shane Warne is the captain of the Rajasthan Royals, the 20/20 cricket side. We didnt see him, but he sent Chris a lurid sms (just kidding). We spent the first day visiting the palaces & the observatory in the old section of the city. The next day we went to the Amber Fort, just outside the town, & it was fairly impressive.Jaipur is surrounded by hills, & there are several forts on the ridges to defend the city. That night we were back in the hotel when we were told that several bombs had gone off in the old city. Timing is everything. We are quite OK, & are still more concerned with the traffic.

THE PALACE OF THE WINDS.

THE HILLS FORMING THE BACKDROP TO THE CITY.

TYPICAL STREET SCENE, PUBLIC TRANSPORT.

THE WATER PALACE

AS USUAL, THE HOTEL STAFF LOVED TO LINE UP FOR A PHOTO WITH THE TWO CRAZY GUYS. THIS IS THE CREW FROM THE HOLIDAY INN, JAIPUR.

We then headed out further west into the desert, to Bikaner. We rode for six kours in a heavy sandstorm, & the wind was so hot I thought someone had left the front door of Hell open. Were glad to arrive. We had booked into the Laxmi Niwas Palace, the former home of the Maharajah of Bikaner, which is now a hotel. And what a hotel! There are more staff than guests at the moment, & we got it for a ridiculously cheap price. The bathroom is bigger than the hotel room we had in Singapore.

THE SMALLER OF THE TWO INTERNAL COURTYARDS WHERE THE MEALS ARE SERVED.

The Maharajah was quite an operator, and was a well respected historical figure in India. Among other things, he was an army General, & a signatory to the Treaty of Versailles, which ended WW1, & represented India in discussions on Independence. Numerous Royals have stayed here, from George V, Earl Mountbatten, Edward V111, & so on, and the walls are lined with photos. Naturally, they shot most of the wildlife into extinction, & a lot of it is still on display in the bar.

THE TROPHY BAR. THIS IS OUR KIND OF BAR!!

Tomorrow we go north to Ganganagar. This is a whistlestop, & will be a big comedown from the Palace. Bye for Now.

INDIA, THE JEWEL IN THE CROWN?

2008-05-10T03:13:00.000-07:00

India. What can I say that hasn't already been said about India? You've all heard it before. The vast plains, the heat, the heaving mass of 1.3 billion people, the colour, the poverty, the filth, the stench. It's all so very true!! But you know all that stuff I said about chaos on the roads in the countries we have been to sofar? Well, forget it, all that was only practice for India. India is a living nightmare, and it is no place to enjoy motorcycling. The cities are jam packed with cars, bicycles, scooters, rickshaws, tuk tuks, buses, pedestrians, with no quarter asked or given. They come at you every which way, & its bloody scary. They think nothing of driving on the wrong side of the road, & just appear in front of you, The horn, loud as it is, has little effect as everyone else is beeping at the same time. Out on the road, its even scarier. On a section of National Route 2 between Varnassi & Kanpur, which was a divided road with two lanes in each direction with a wide median strip inbetween, we were in the fast lane and every so often had trucks & even buses coming straight at us on the wrong side of the road. This is common practice. Scooters & small motorcycles just hop the median wherever they want, & pedestrians & cyclists are all over the shop. Throw in the cows, which just sit in the middle of the road, the buffalos that walk where ever they want, dogs, pigs, donkey carts, get the picture? At one stage, there was a guy on a small scooter crossing the median strip at will, and a guy coming straight at us on a similar bike, with a pillion. Both of them were so busy looking at us, that after we had passed, I witnessed a spectacular explosion of bikes & bodies in the rear vision mirror, as they really ploughed into each other hard. No helmets or any other protective gear. Somewhere else, we stopped in a small town, & two vans hit head on while their drivers were both looking at us, fortunately only going slowly.

Roadworks are a complete farce. At one point on a main highway we encountered a diversion in place around a bridge being repaired. There were no signs, no flagmen or temporary traffic lights , no traffic control whatsoever. Oncoming traffic just met head on until the whole lot just locked up. Everyone started beeping their horns, as if this would somehow solve the problem. We were stuck here for about 40 minutes, inching forward with the engines (& bodies) melting. At train crossings, instead of queueing in the normal manner, once a few cars stop in a queue, the late arrivals just drive down the wrong side of the road because its clear, and then stop at the barrier, taking up both lanes. The cars on the other side of the crossing do the same, & when the boom gates go up, no one can move off the crossing. Instant gridlock, which can back up for kilometers!

They seem to be fixing all the roads all at the same time, instead of actually finishing some of it & moving on to the next bit. You can be riding along one section, & then just get funnelled onto the other carriageway via a temporary crossing, next thing you have two lanes of traffic coming straight at you. At times, you are not even sure which side you are supposed to be on, but I'm starting to think it doesn't matter, you are not safe anywhere! One village just runs into the next, so you can't reall get going. You get up to 80 or 100, then almost immediately you are backing off for one reason or another. Its very frustrating, & progress is slow.

Wherever we stop, there is a crowd within seconds, and it just keeps getting bigger. At some towns this has actually caused substantial traffic jams. Sometimes, you have to beat people back to just find the bike. Crowds of a hundred or more are common, I kid you not. They crawl all over the bike tampering with all the switches. Sometimes there are some questions, usually how much do they cost, & how many miles to the gallon (why, I have no idea), but mostly they just stare blankly at us like zombies, as if we had just arrived from outer space. There may be some truth in this, if you think about it. This really is a pain in the butt, because you cant get a second's peace to just rest & recharge.

On our first night in India we got into Gorakhpur, and were absolutely shell shocked by the time we finally reached our dump of a hotel. I had managed to drop the bike while doing a slow U turn in heavy traffic, trying to find the hotel, & I was really cranky. No hot water, so a cold shower followed. My phone would not work, and none of the ATM 's we could find (after walking for hours through manure filled streets, breathing in the diesel fumes & the open drains filled with sewage & rotting garbage) would work with my cards. I had thirty bucks. That night, while sleeping, I was woken twice by a mouse running over my head. We awoke to find that someone had stolen the BMW logos off the tanks. Welcome to India!

In Gorakhpur we met Sam, (originally from England, now living in India) heading for Nepal on her Royal Enfield Bullet.

We got moving early next day, but by the time we got out of town, I was feeling really sick from the level of exhaust fumes, especially the diesel, the stench & the heat. That day, it took us 5 hours to cover 250 km, & it was the most demanding day so far. I really started to think I was in trouble, & had to question whether I had bitten off more than I could chew. We really had to dig deep at this point. We both felt we were not seeing India at all, just the fifty yards of road in front of the bikes, you dare not look at anything else while you are moving, & since you don't get a chance to see anything when you stop either, the whole thing seemed pointless. That night, we decided to review the itinerary.

Our new strategy was to get to the other side of the country as quickly as we could , & stay at 5 star hotels wherever possible. Again, the internet turned up some good hotel deals if you book ahead, through Wotif, or Wired Destinations & similar sites, but it would still take us 10 days to get out of this living vision of Hell. We also decided we needed to rehydrate, & started taking oral rehydration salts with our bottled water. It's stay alert or die in this inferno.

So, after a couple of night refuge in the Radisson in Varanassi, we both felt better. We had a look at the ghats on the Ganges, where thousands of devotees wash in the river at dawn (so we heard, we were asleep with the air conditioning on max), but we did see a few corpses incinerated later in the day. They really go off! Apparently they light up about 300 per day, seven days a week, no waiting.

The ghats on the Ganges at Varanassi. In the monsoon season, the sandbar on the opposite side is completely covered.

People swimming in the Ganges, well after the early morning rush.

We then bolted for the Landmark Hotel in Kanpur. Kanpur isn't even in the Lonely Planet, & now we know why. We read in the local paper it is the most polluted city in India in terms of air quality, & the 7th in the world, like they are proud of it!

From there to Agra, to see the you know what. Well, you have to, don't you? I actually felt a little excited when we got a glimpse of the Taj off in the distance on the way into town.

First glimpse of the Taj Mahal on the road into Agra.

The very comfortable Clarks Shiraz Hotel in the Cantonment area was a very agreeable base. Next day we went to the Taj, and I have to say that despite the well deserved bagging I have just given India, the Taj Mahal is simply the most glorious building I have ever seen, & I've seen plenty.

Sure it looks a little frayed around the edges when you get up close, but the concept, the scale & the setting are truly awe inspiring, and the level of craftsmanship & detail is just phenomenal. All the embellishments are either carved from or inlaid into the stonework. The four huge tapered circular columns on each corner of the main plinth are made of marble blocks, and the faces are not square, but cut on the curve, and they are perfect! I didn't want to leave this exquisite creation, I just kept looking at it from all angles, then sat & looked some more. I was completely captivated by its stunning beauty. When I reluctantly tore myself away & returned to the stinking streets, I think I started to understand why India is such an awful, weird yet somehow compelling place. But I have no plans to move here.

Next stop Jaipur, out in the Rajahstan desert. We thought heading into the desert would be better because there would be less people & less traffic, & we plan to go on to Bikaner, then up to Amritsar. As it turns out the roads actually improved a lot, this is where they are really spending some big money.

Somewhere in Rajahstan. The roads are better, the crowds are smaller, the air is cleaner.

The ride from Agra to Jaipur was our best yet in India, almost enjoyable, and we wondered whether things really are on the up & up, or is it just that we are getting used to the traffic. A bit of both, I think.

POST SCRIPT FROM NEPAL.

In Chitwan National Park in Nepal, we took an elephant ride through the jungle, on this very elephant. Chris & I were stuck at the back, facing rearwards. I learned something that I expect not many people in Australia would be aware of. An elephant must actually stop walking to take a dump, but it can fart on the move. So there!

HOW MUCH FOR THE GOAT??

2008-05-04T01:06:00.000-07:00

Back in Kathmandu, the bikes finally arrived from Bangkok. After consulting numerous people in the customs office, who studied the paperwork carefully, then wrote stuff down in ancient ledgers, we went to the collection area. Here we were entertained by the total chaos as pallets of stuff fell over, forklifts collided with pallet trucks, & about 300 people all yelling at each other. Two huge wooden crates appeared, & as they were systematically destroyed by two guys with a steel spike & a couple of hammers, the crowd of spectators grew to include just about everyone in the airport. As the bikes were gradually revealed, the crowd was abuzz. "Yabber, yabber yabber.......BMW..........yabber, yabber, .............fast...etc." We got them roadworthy with about 100 people gettting in the way at every turn, debating what this tool was for, lots of oohs & aahs, you get the idea. We then rode out of the airport, following the freight forwarder, who took us to a servo which was guarded by armed police. Petrol is in short supply in Nepal. We filled up out the back, & it turned out that this was where the police vehicles were refuelled. Its not what you know, its who you know, as always.
We left for Chitwan National Park at 6 am next morning, to beat the worst of the traffic, and made good time until we hit the chaos of the ring road. At this point, all the trucks coming in from India converge. Cars then try to pass the trucks, driving on the wrong side of the road, & leaving nowhere for the outbound traffic (like us) to drive. Bikes then fill any available spaces. Oh, & they were digging up about two miles of footpath, with no signage or any other form of control. At the height of this madness, a paper boy ran up & tried to sell Chris a newspaper written in Nepalese!!

We finally got to the outskirts, & at the first checkpoint, a cop pulled Chris in & asked to see his lisence. After about two minutes of pulling the luggage apart trying to find it, Chris found it, but the cop had lost interest & waved us on. Thats Nepal.

We then had a good run for an hour or so, then it happened. Chris was in the lead as we rode through one of the many small villages when a goat bolted from nowhere straight at my bike, just as I was concentrating on passing a bus. I felt a big jolt as I hit the goat or vice versa, & for a split second I really thought I was gone. The bike dropped down on its left side, I got it back up again & then felt it drop onto its right side, jamming my foot on the road in the process, & finally got it level again. In the rear vision mirror, I saw a black lump on the road. I just gunned it & got out of there. About 10 km up the road, there was a police checkpoint, & we were hauled in. Someone had phoned ahead to tip off the cops. We ended up in the police station with about 5 cops, only one with any English, & all he could say was "Goat is dead, owner is coming". A sticky situation indeed!!

Before much longer, there were about 15 people in the room, all yabbering & pointing accusing fingers at us, with lots of "Goat is dead". I protested vehemently, putting forward a very convincing argument along the lines of "you are an irresponsible bastard letting your goat loose on a public road, what if I crashed my bike or injured myself, would you still own the goat then, you prick, etc." The reply I got to every valid argument I uttered was "Goat is dead". We could see that we were on a hiding to nothing here & that the only way we were getting out of here was by opening the wallet. The owner started the bidding commenced at 6000 rupees. We said for 6000, we would expect to keep the dead goat & your sister as well. We closed at 2000 rupees, thats $34 Aust, with him keeping the corpse. Lots of hand shaking & smiles, honour had been preserved. I'm guessing they had a barbecue that night. I got a badly bruised foot, and was a bit shaken up when I realised the whole trip could have ended there & then.

We pushed on towards Chitwan, keeping a wary eye out for livestock & everything else. We stopped to check directions, & my bike wouldn't start. The ignition problem I got checked out at the BMW dealer in Bangkok was back again!! This time, no dealers until Tehran. At this point, I'm very disappointed with the bike, it has been very unreliable, greatly overrated & it remains to be seen whether I can even get as far as Tehran. If it gets any worse, I will just put the bike in a crate somewhere & ship it home, game over. Thanks a lot, BMW.

NEPAL, CONTINUED.

2008-04-30T22:02:00.000-07:00

Allright, allright, some of our regular readers reckon my last posting was way too venomous. I have been told to relax, chill out & go with the flow etc, etc. Well, its allright for you, you can't smell the place. But seriously, Kathmandu is just an overcrowded, polluted bunfight. Fortunately, we were able to escape for two days up to Pokhara. This is the start point for the numerous treks in the Annapurna Region, & is situated on Lake Fewa. The scenery in this region is supposed to be spectacular. I couldn't see any mountains at all, because of the haze, but there were some very nice photos in the shops, taken in the early fifties, I suspect. There I go again !

Pokhara is about 200km west of Kathmandu, but it is a long drive because of the state of the road, & the traffic. Our driver turned it into a five hour, white knuckle ride each way. An otherwise likeable enough chap named Bardri, once behind the wheel he turned into a terrorist. Call me old fashioned, but I just don't like the odds of passing trucks & buses on blind bends or crests, with nothing more than a toot of the horn to protect me. It doesn't bother Bardri, or anyone else, it seems. We were bounced around all day like a couple of golf balls in a concrete mixer, with only near death experiences every five minutes for entertainment. I swear my life flashed before my eyes at least every 30 minutes. I think Bardri graduated top of his class at the Nepal Institute of Advanced Driving for the Totally Insane. The scary part is we have been observing the traffic here for about a week & a half, & soon we have to get out there & compete with it. Now I know how gladiators felt before a match.

And they are not kidding!!

Pokhara was certainly nicer than Kathmandu, lots of tourists centred on the lakefront area, lots of shops selling hiking gear etc, lots of good restaurants, & it was relaxing. Bardri took us to several of the usual tourist traps, with the usual hustlers, beggars etc in attendance. Here is one of the more unusual ones.

See, it's in Pokhara, & all this time I thought it was in Gotham City

But on the way, we drove through the really old part of the town. We got out & walked around an area where there were lots of jewellery shops cranking out some really good stuff, & no other tousists to be seen. We were offered an impromptu look at some of the artisans at work, & their skill is just staggering. Later, quite by accident, we discovered a museum dedicated to the British Gurkha Regiments. We spent over 2 hours there virtually on our own, & it was fascinating. The Gurkhas are Nepalese soldiers whose units have been attached to the British Army since about 1850, & their tenacity & courage are legendary throughout many conflicts from the Indian Mutiny, the North West Frontier, through both World Wars, to Bosnia & even as UN peacekeepers in East Timor.

All Gurkhas carry the khukri, a traditional Nepalese weapon worn on the left side of the belt. It's got a surprisingly heavy blade, its razor sharp, and it can really do some damage, its a fearsome weapon. Replicas, some quite ornate, are sold at shops & stalls all over the place, but the museum actually sells real ones as souvenirs for about one fifth of the price. Naturally we both had to buy one. I don't know if I can get it back into Oz, but if not, here it is, its the actual service issue, the genuine article.

Handle with care, unless you want to kill someone.

On the way out of the museum, a uniformed gurkha saluted us, & I have to say I felt somewhat embarrassed at this. I felt it should be me who was showing my respect to him, but that's the Nepalese for you. In spite of the crap everywhere, & the chaos on the roads, they just get on with life in their own way without complaint. We have not seen an angry man since we got here. While I wouldnt want to live here, I wouldn't mind having their attitude to life. So there, I've learned something.

On the way back to Kathmandu, we noticed some of the roadside vegetation. So those old rumours really are true!! Bardri reckons it's grown to give to the cattle when they get diarrhoea. I suggested it doesn't neccessarily stop the diarrhoea, it's just that the cows don't care about it any more.

Typical roadside foliage.

WE REACH NEPAL

2008-04-25T20:17:00.000-07:00

OOPS THE ABOVE PHOTOS ARE MEANT TO BE IN THE NEXT POSTING

We got away from Bangkok on schedule, noting that the new airport is very impressive. I forgot I had a can of coke in the tankbag, & it was picked up on the xray. I also had a set of Allen keys for the bike, which I had forgotten about, & was quite concerned they would be confiscated. However, they let me keep them, but took the coke!! Evidently it is easier to hijack a plane with a can of coke than with a pointy metal tool. First thing I got on the plane was a can of beer, fully de-fused & rendered safe, no doubt.

Landing at the airport in Kathmandu was where the culture shock started. Unlike the earlier countries, where impressive efforts were being made to match the pace of the rest of the world, the airport is like Adelaide, 1956, with the lights out. We had left the developed world. I suspected from that point on, it would be rough, & I was right. In the taxi to the hotel, the first sight is rubbish strewn all over the streets, cows wandering amongst the traffic & grazing on the garbage, really old, beaten-up cars, & the usual total lack of any road rules. Great. And they reckon everyone is glad to get here after India. I can hardly wait!

mmmmmmm...................garbage!!!

The next move was to collect the bikes, which were supposed to follow within 1-2 days. We recieved an email from the freight company in Thailand, telling us that the bikes would now not be sent for another 6 days, & they had already had them for 5 days. We suspect the bastards had been aware of this all along, but waited till we were out of the country before telling us. So, we made a revision to the schedule, & will go to Pokhara by car & come back to get the bikes, then go down to Chitwan & straight into India, about 3 days early. To compound the problem, there is a fuel shortage in Nepal, & waits in long queues of over an hour are common.

Walking around the streets of Thamel, the old section of Kathmandu where the action was in the 70's, was interesting. I am convinced that not only are cows sacred here, but so are the flies. No one seems to make any attempt to kill them. But they dont bother you much, there is so much else to keep them occupied, like piles of rotting garbage, sewage running in the street, all kinds of shit, not to mention the meat adorning the chopping blocks of the butcher shops. And another thing. This is the phlegm & mucous capital of the world, so far at least. There is a continuous chorus of people hocking up their lungs, then gobbing the results onto the road or footpaths, or clearing their nostrils in either direction without the use of any other modern aid, like handkerchiefs. Some even do this from open windows, well above the street. To say you need to watch where you put your foot in this town is the understatement of the century. Then we got to the river. I have never seen anything like it (but we havent been to India yet!!). It was like any typical garbage dump (mental image required at this point) but with the addition of raw sewage, dead animals & God knows what else. We also visited the Monkey Temple, perched on a hilltop with a view over the Kathmandu Valley. It was so polluted, we could hardly see anything. But while we did see a couple of mangy looking monkeys, they were heavily outnumbered by the mangy dogs. They should consider a name change, to perhaps Dogshit Temple. At about this point, my sympathy for these people evaporated. Anyone prepared to tolerate this extent of pollution & regard it as normal, without making any effort to clean up their own mess, gets what they deserve & deserves what they get.

View? What View?

I'll just run out & grab some goat for the barbie

And Johnny, grab a bucket of sewage in case anyone wants a drink

Yes Mum.

The next day, we were to witness something even worse. At several places along the river there are cremation ghats, where bodies are burned on huge piles of wood. When the fire is burned out, they push whats left into the river. At this point there are people in the river dredging it for coins or jewelry placed on the bodies before burning, & downstream there are kids swimming in this toxic mess !! And on the way to everywhere are touts trying to sell stuff that nobody wants or needs, and beggars with their hands out, some who have lost all hope, & some who are just kids of 5 or6., learning the family business. This really is very confronting , and quite upsetting. To be able to get back to the hotel for a shower & a beer is a God given gift, but the images persist. Somehow we need to learn to shut all this stuff out or we will never get through India & Pakistan. The locals don't seem to worry about it. If its not their problem, whose problem is it, that's what I want to know.

Now just take out the rubbish.

OK Mum.

Now for the inevitable bad news. We dined at the hotel restaurant last night. I awoke this am with something best described as Delhi Belly, & we haven't even been to Delhi yet!! Perhaps I should say it was Kathmandu Colon? The only thing fast about the food here is the speed at which it gets from the north end of the body to points south, no need to explain further.

On To Bangkok

2008-04-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

We had a good run once we left Phuket, following the west coast of Thailand, alongside the Andaman Sea, then along the Burmese border. When I say good, the road was good, lots of nice twisty bends, & only two near fatal head on collisions. The first was a guy on a scooter coming straight at me on the wrong side of the road, the second was a car also on my side, causing me to use maximum braking & dive for the shoulder. I knew those ABS brakes would come in handy! We crossed over to the east coast, the Gulf of Thailand side, then headed for Bangkok. The traffic started to build up about 120km outside the capital & just got heavier, & it was boiling hot & very humid. We knew this was going to be tough, but it exceeded even our expectations. On the way in we went past what we are sure was a fatal accident, which had only just happened. A car travelling at approx 100-120kph had hit a scooter crossing the road. Gulp!

Bangkok is huge, a true megacity, & very hard to navigate in. If you leave a gap of any more than about a foot, someone else will barge in, I'm not kidding. A big, heavily loaded bike like the BM needs some space to work in, but we are just another scooter to everyone else. There were still a few marauding bands of people in utes & on the roadside who were still celebrating Songkran, & dumping water on passers by, which actually turned out to be a relief from the heat. There is a good system of motorways, but motorcycles are not allowed on them ( figure that one out!). We picked a hotel which was (supposed to be) close to the new airport, figuring that the airport would be well signposted. Not so. After becoming hopelessly lost, we hired a taxi, told him to go to the hotel, while we followed on the bikes. Two hours later, after the taxi became lost several times, we finally reached the hotel, just as smoke started to billow out from under the taxi. It had burned out its clutch! We paid the fare & said bad luck about wrecking your car, & bolted for the hotel.

Next day, we decided to clean the bikes. A simple request for a bucket was misinterpreted, & instead we ended up with five uniformed cleaning ladies from the hotel out in the car park cleaning the bikes!! Who were we to argue?

Our next task was to arrange to air freight the bikes to Nepal. We had to visit our chosen freight forwarder to sort the paperwork. Thailand does not use the Carnet system to control foreign vehicle entry, so we had to register the bikes as temporary imports, & the freight company wanted to set up some kind of dummy corporation to re-export them. Seems like a lot of buggerising around for something which should be easy, but we are getting used to this kind of beaurocracy. No wonder people aren't queuing up to do trips like this!!!

On the way up from Phuket, my bike was getting hard to start when hot, then spluttering & belching black smoke, so this was also the last opportunity to get it checked before we get to Tehran. So, we had to find the BMW dealership. We used the taxi trick again, & each time, the drivers got lost again! Anyway, they ran a diagnostic on the bike & it checked out ok. We think there was a problem in the fuel injection system, which was flooding it on startup & causing it to run rich, but it appears to have resolved itself, I very much hope!! Then we had to get the bikes out to the freight depot, where they had to be inspected by a Dangerous Goods certifier & made safe for the flight. (Tank empty, battery disconnected, terminals & leads taped up, etc.) before having timber crates made. At least we didn't have to take the front wheels off, since we were being charged on weight, not volume. So, we won't see the bikes again until Kathmandu. All this stuffing around ate into our itinerary, & we decided to cancel the trip to Cambodia, & instead, we moved to a hotel closer to the city, & became tourists for a few days. We really needed to relax, because it had all been hard graft up till now. We went to book a city tour by mini bus, but got a better deal thru the hotel. For $80 we got a uniformed chauffer & a Mercedes, so why not? So, here are some of the tourist photos I am prepared to post.

The Royal Palace, Bangkok

One of the Royal Barges

The Reclining Buddah

The Wat Arun (Temple of the Dawn)

Malaysia to Thailand

2008-04-17T04:28:00.000-07:00

The above pair of photos are not supposed to be here, so ignore them.

We were both fairly wrecked when we finally reached the island of Ko Phuket, but gained some consolation from the fact that some of the Malaysian blokes were knackered as well. We were able to get a room at their hotel that night, but changed hotels the following day, as we had already prebooked accomodation over the net,& we were a day early. We relocated to one of the best places in Patong Beach,the 24 storey Royal Paradise Hotel, & when we checked in, we were told that because we booked so early we had been upgraded to a Suite---EACH!! We decided not to tell the Malaysian guys in case they thought we were pretentious knobs, but it certainly was nice.

The locals certainly show an interest whenever we stop to refuel. Such service!!

Phuket Bike Week is really something. The streets were packed 24/7 with bikes & bikers of all types from far & wide. But what really made the place tick was the Songkran Festival. This celebrates the Thai New Year, and once it starts, its total mayhem. For about 3 days,the whole country just goes off, and the principal manifestation of this is that you can dump as much water on anyone else as you like, for no other reason than its Songkran. I wondered why all the shops were selling huge water pistols, super soakers, etc. These were soon superseded by hoses & buckets,and no one on the streets was spared. All good clean fun, (I mean in Palestine they use real guns, so it can always be worse!). Here is the catch. We had finally arranged to get a BM mechanic to change the immobiliser on the bike, but I had to take the bike over to Phuket Town a few kilometers away. At the servo to fuel up,it wouldn't restart. After a 3 hour wait at the servo, we got a truck to take it to the dealers,by which time it was too late to work on it. The mechanic agreed to come in & work on it the next day, a public holiday. When it was ready to collect Songkran was in fullswing, and we had no option but to go get it. I went pillion on Chris's bike, thru bumper to bumper traffic all the way & when we got there we were of course soaking wet, & some bastard had covered my bare leg with a red dye, & dumped talc powder all over us. Then we both had to ride back & cop even more all over again. No chance of saying we dont want to play! This was actually quite nerve wracking, because by this stage, they were using rubbish bins full of ice water, as if it wasn't hard enough riding in suicidal traffic & not getting lost. WE arrived back at the hotel looking like shipwreck survivors. With as much dignity as we could muster, we squelched our way thru the hotel lobby leaving a trail of liquid debris, much to the amusement of the reception girls, while someone hastily followed us with a mop. We later heard that there had been at least two bike accidents, & one bloke was hospitalised. I'm surprised there was not more carnage, but I am very relieved we survived.

Anyway, we thought Phuket itself was a pretty sleazy sort of place, & were glad of the diversions.

2008-04-11T20:00:00.000-07:00

After leaving Brinchang, we headed for the road to take us back to the E1, the main north south highway. Enroute, we found what must be one of the best bike roads in Malaysia, or anywhere else, & we virtually had it to ourselves. Apart from never knowing what sort of traffic idiocy awaited us around the next bend, it was just superb. We were having too much fun to even stop for photos, sorry. As we approached Georgetown on the island of Penang, the traffic started to really build up. There is the choice of a very long bridge or a ferry to the island, & we opted for the bridge. We soon found the traffic to be even worse than Melaka, people just carve you up from all angles, plus it was stinking hot, & we had no idea where we were going. But enough whingeing. We finally found the Sunway Hotel, which was one of the better choices away from the Millionaires Row along the nicest part of the city. As we rode up, the security guard greeted us with a curt "Can I help you, Sir", no doubt thinking these two scrubbers are lost. After we informed him that we were in fact intent on staying at the hotel, he barked a few orders to his minions, & escorted us to the front desk while another guy stood watch over the bikes.

When we got to the room, the door would not open because someone had somehow allowed the security latch to be set from the inside. Back to the desk, & we were invited to have a drink in the lobby lounge while we waited for this to be sorted. Having such sweaty , malodorous thugs sitting in the lobby soon attracted the attention of the Assistant Manager, Pauline Chua, who came over to ask what the hell we were doing in her hotel. As it turned out, this delightful young lady was intrigued by the whole journey thing, and could not have been more helpful. One word from her & things really started to happen big time. People flew in all directions, we were given a new room, and the car park attendant pulled up a deck chair next to the bikes, & settled in for a long wait. The deck chair was manned day & night until we left.

Later that night, I broke a tooth while eating tea. (Note to Don Wilson: not your fault, mate)

Pauline organised an appointment for me at her own dentist, & next day, I had the tooth filled. Total cost, $28Aust. Just the excess on my health insurance is $100. (Note to Don Wilson: $28!!!)

Around to the local BMW dealer to get a new headlight bulb, and we soon found out that there was a bunch of local BM riders going up to Phuket, Thailand, for Bike Week, & we were invited to tag along, by the head bike honcho at Auto Bavaria, Lim Bak Kau. A quick revision to the itinerary, & we fronted up. We were going there anyhow, but had planned to do the trip over 3 days. These guys were doing it in 1. We knew it would be fast, & we were not wrong!! About 800km, with a border crossing, made it a very big day,and we were pushing it hard through heavy traffic. To make matters worse, the bike just refused to start after one of the fuel stops. Lim had a service vehicle accompanying the group (I mean, how good is that!), & the technician got it going, but it was only a temporary reprieve. It turns out that the ignition immobiliser has an electronic problem & will need replacement. Lim is organising a replacement from the BM dealer in Bangkok, who is also coming here for Bike Week. So, while I am less than impressed with the fact that my 8 month old bike has incurred a serious reliability issue, I reckon I'm bloody lucky it happened when & where it did, & not in India or Pakistan,where thereare no BM dealers at all.

HERE WE GO

2008-04-04T23:03:00.000-07:00

Arrived in Singapore at the appointed time, got to the hotel, & immediately found out why it was so cheap. It is located in the absolute epicentre of the red light district, & the room was so small I had to go outside just to change my mind. The streets are jam packed with hookers, & business is booming.Wandered off down the street looking for something I recognised to eat. Gave the pigs liver, bullfrog porridge & fish head curry a wide berth, but generally the food is cheap & plentiful. The weather is very oppressive, & you cant move without breaking out into a serious sweat.The traffic is manic, & the stench from the piles of garbage & the open drains does not help. This part of town is well off the package tour radar. Nevertheless, as confronting as it might sound, I was pleased with the way it worked out, as the most popular parts of town are so sanitised it seems like Disney World.

Now to collect the bikes. It took a full day & a half & umpteen taxi fares to various agencies to get the papework sorted out, & this was very inefficient & frustrating. This is what we had heard, but we thought we had it well covered. The best advice I can give anyone planning a similar trip is do yourself a big favour & DO NOT ship to Singapore, its just not worth the hassle. The experience with the carnets was interesting. Everyone seemes so focused on filling in the forms, that no one actually checked the bikes or the luggage. We could have been driving the Batmobile with the boot full of heroin. Anyhow, we got it sorted, & not without some trepidation, finally left for the border. About ten minutes later, we reached the border. A whole lot of buggerising around for a lousy few k's on the Singapore road network. Over the bridge, & into Malaysia, easy as that. Nobody checked the bikes on either side of the border here either.

The first impression of Malaysia is very good. The freeway system is first class, its easy to use & well maintained. We got a good few kilometers under the belt, then turned off onto some trunk roads heading for Melaka. At this point, things changed. Oncoming traffic frequently intrudes onto the wrong side of the road, people pass you on the inside, the hundreds of little scooters don't mind driving alongside you in the same lane, and every blind corner is a complete lucky dip!!

In Melaka, as far as I can make out, there are no road rules whatsoever. Traffic coming straight at you when you are in a one way street takes some getting used to. Melaka is a very historic city, & our hotel was quite handy to all the historic buildings, museums etc, including the Museum of Malaysian Independence, shown below.

When it rains here, its a serious business. Fortunately we were able to watch this cloudburst from the comfort of a very good bar.

From Melaka, we headed up to the Cameron Highlands. The road into this area is all curves, which would normally be a bonus on the bike. However, this turned out to be even more nerve wracking than driving in Melaka. Linemarking is interpreted as a rough guide, double lines have no meaning at all, there was loose rubbish on the road surface, & it started to rain.

However, it is a lot coooler up here, & the outlook is fairly spectacular, lots of tea plantations & rain forest. This is somewhat spoiled by the amounts of litter, especially plastic, around the roads & creeks.

We are staying at the Equatorial Hotel , & they have allowed us to park the bikes at the front door, which is handy.

The food in the nearest town of Brinchang is remarkably inexpensive sofar, although I can't help thinking I'm one meal away from disaster when I look at the food handling techniques, & the ever popular open drains & piles of garbage. The hotel is a much safer bet.

Tomorrow morning (Monday 7April) we leave for Georgetown, Penang.

SINGAPORE TO ENGLAND ON TWO WHEELS 2008

2008-02-11T02:40:00.000-08:00

MIKE GREEN & CHRIS PHILLIPS
STARRING IN:

WRONG WAY ROUND.

SINGAPORE TO ENGLAND ON TWO WHEELS, 2008.

No, you can't come, this is NOT a Ulysses Club ride !!

WHO

Mike Green, age 56, recently retired Civil Engineer from Adelaide. Married with 4 kids & a very understanding wife, Carolyn.

Chris Phillips, age 49, Technical Officer, from Melbourne.

WHAT:

The ultimate road trip, riding a pair of BMW R1200GS’s from Singapore to England, April - August 2008.

WHY:

Mainly because I’ve always wanted to, & because now……… I can !
OK, why (apart from early dementia, mid life crisis or possibly demonic possession) would an otherwise relatively well adjusted, middle-aged family guy decide to chuck in his job & ride a motorbike halfway across the planet? I swear this is true, I have been carrying the general idea around in my head for about 40 odd years, without any plans to actually do anything about it. A harmless fantasy, a bit of escapism really. But deep down I know the desire was always there, I just needed the motivation, the means & the opportunity to act on it. Here is how I got it. As for Chris, …you’ll just have to ask him, he may be a complete nutter!

UP, DOWN & ACROSS OZ.

I have always enjoyed motorcycle touring, and I have the photos to prove it! It took me 30 years, but I eventually managed to ride to the four geographic extremities of the Australian mainland. Not that I have some sort of bizarre master plan, or that I’m claiming to be the first to do it, or whatever, its just the way it worked out.

MOST EASTERLY POINT, 1976.

One of several trips to the east coast in the 1970’s.

Cape Byron lighthouse. (yes, I know everbody has been there)

& my trusty Honda Four 750.

MOST NORTHERLY POINT, 1997, & AGAIN 2001.

Twenty one years later, as a born again biker, this time with a dirt bike because I thought it would be safer, I signed on to do a trip to the top of Cape York. This was an organised off road tour starting from Cairns & using a hired Yamaha TTR 250, but it was nevertheless a big comeback! So in 1997, I got to the sign which designates the lonely outpost at the most northerly point on the Australian mainland.

The tip of Cape York. Proof that it’s all about the journey, not the destination, because there is bugger all else here!

But everything still has its price….OUCH !

MOST SOUTHERLY POINT, 2006.

So I eventually decided it would actually be safer back on a road bike! I settled for a Honda Deauville 650, and before too long found my way past the most southerly point of the mainland. Wilsons Promontory.

MOST WESTERLY POINT 2006.

In June, 2006, I set out on a five week loop of about 13,000 km from Adelaide to Darwin, across to Broome & down to Perth, then back across the Nullarbor. On the way, I stopped at Denham, the most westerly town in Australia. It’s about as close to the western extremity of the mainland that you can get on a road bike, & still get home to tell people about it.

Outside Denham, WA

So, that was it. On my various bikes, I had gone about as far from home as you can go in any direction. It had taken me 30 years, but I had mainland Australia pretty much covered.

SO WHAT NEXT?

Good question. While I was in WA, I chanced to meet a couple from Switzerland, Ivo & Jacqueline, who were on a 2-3 year round the world trip on an early model BMW GS. They had ridden from Europe to Australia & were planning to continue to New Zealand, then North & South America. I invited them to stay at our place when they reached Adelaide. During that week, we rode all over the place, & I found it fascinating to listen to their incredible stories. This was sheer, unadulterated adventure and I was talking to people who were actually in the middle of it!! And if I was ever going to leave suburbia & do anything this ambitious, it had to be soon. But no-one said it was easy.

It’s all their fault!! Swiss adventurers Ivo & Jacqueline, who inspired me to plan my journey.

Saying farewell at Victor Harbor. They have since been to NZ, Canada, the USA, Mexico, Central America, & all the way down to Ushuaia at the southern tip of South America, & are now in Argentina (Feb 08). We intend to catch up with them in Switzerland.

TELL HIM HE’S DREAMING….

The next step was to go & buy some maps, & start serious research. A quick refresher course in global geography reminded me of what country was connected to what other country. It all came back with a rush. Ah yes, the hippy trail of the seventies, the bus trip from Kathmandu to London, the fabled Silk Road, the Hindu Kush, the Khyber Pass, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq & Turkey. That was it, that was the one! But hang on, there are many compelling reasons why no-one does that anymore. What the hell, no guts- no glory. In late 2006 when I discovered Horizons Unlimited, a website for round the world bikers, I knew I had struck paydirt. One thing led to another, & that’s how I met Chris Phillips, a jovial Melburnian with an R1200GS, and similar plans. Of course by this time I had also seen Long Way Round, so Ewan McGregor & Charley Boorman have to take some responsibility for this as well.

THE DREAM BECOMES REALITY.

Now here is where it started to get serious. Chris was already well advanced in planning a similar trip, & had firm dates in mind, so we explored the possibilities of travelling together, sort of sussing each other out while keeping our options open. One thing for sure, I was going to have to stop kidding myself & make some crucial decisions. I mean real decisions with real consequences. There was no small amount of angst involved, but it lead me to my ultimate conclusion, which was this: I had spent almost 40 years studying & working, ultimately for one purpose, to provide for myself & my family, & that task is now largely complete. When I finally kick the bucket, however & whenever that might be, I certainly won’t be wishing I had spent more time at work. I absolutely refuse to die of boredom. Life is for living, & when you get a once in a lifetime opportunity for challenge, adventure & fulfilment, you take it, end of story. So by about mid year the deal was done. I had decided to retire, sell my business, buy an R1200GS, and go for it. We were going to ride overland to Europe!!!

It will be a real shame to get it dirty, but that’s what it’s for!

NUTS & BOLTS STUFF.

So the next six months was also a flurry of emails & web- searching as we ploughed our way through the mire of unanswered questions that had to be answered. I can only guess how impossibly difficult this would have been without the internet & Lonely Planet. Gradually we started to fit all the pieces together. Itinerary, routes & distances, customs documentation, sea & air freight, insurance, getting the bikes equipped & ready, accommodation, finance, visas, what gear to take, what gear not to take, vaccinations, considering the worst case scenarios, & so it went on. In the background, the constant stream of media reports about suicide bombers, political assassinations, bird-flu pandemics, catastrophic earthquakes and the like brought things into sharp focus. This venture might be really dangerous. Anyway, all this activity was exciting, frustrating, fantastic, depressing, exhilarating, scary, & sometimes all of the above at the same time - pretty much like we expect the trip itself will be.

Our planned route will take us from Singapore, through Malaysia & southern Thailand. From Bangkok we intend to make a quick detour to Cambodia & back again to visit the Angkor Wat. It is just impossible to take a motor vehicle into Burma, so instead we will crate up the bikes & fly to Kathmandu. From there, it will be down into northern India & across to Pakistan. We hope to be able to travel on the Karakoram Highway up as far as the Khunjerab Pass on the Chinese border (at elevation 4733m one of the highest mountain passes on earth) but this will depend on the security situation. Then its back down following the Indus Valley & across through the desolate Baluchistan region of western Pakistan & into Iran, skirting uncomfortably close to the dangerous Afghan border areas. From Iran into central Turkey & down to the Mediterranean coast which will lead us via Gallipoli & on to Istanbul. Then its into Greece, a ferry from Patra to the heel of Italy, & more or less straight through to the UK, with a stopover in Zurich to catch up with my mentors, Ivo & Jacqueline, who plan to be back from South America by then. Twenty one weeks & about 20,000 km in total. The bikes will then be shipped back to Australia. Well, that’s the plan, but there are only a few hundred ways it could go wrong!!

The other pressing task I had was to get used to the R1200, & evaluate some of the options for accessories & other equipment. All eight of my previous bikes have been Japanese. I must confess, each time I have ridden non-oriental machines, I thought they felt too weird. BMW do things in their own way, like the indicator set up, & positioning of some of the other switches, which I still regard as intuitively wrong. Even checking the oil is a hassle. The sight glass is a hands & knees job, & in my case, reading glasses as well. The seating position is a little too upright for me, & the stance a little too wide, from a road point of view. Off road, I concede that it makes good sense. The bike is big & ugly, and a bastard to clean, but these are somewhat minor points. At the business end, the power & torque are absolutely awesome, they just keep on coming, & the suspension & ABS brakes are superb, in a class of their own. They sure got those bits right!

A quick trip to the Flinders Ranges & onto the Birdsville Track in December 07 only reinforced the above viewpoint. Heavily loaded up with equipment, I covered about 1200 km including 300 km of unsealed road, some sections badly degraded, and some stretches were wet, & I came back very pleased, but with a list of relatively minor adjustments to make for improved comfort, protection & handling. I reckon I’ve got all that sorted out now, although how it goes carrying all that weight in deep sand or mud (& more to the point, being ridden by me) remain a bit of an unknown to this point. I guess we will find out somewhere, although we won’t actively be seeking those answers.

Blinman, Flinders Ranges December 2007

Marree, start of the Birdsville Track.

REALITY BITES, FEBRUARY 2008.

We now have the bikes booked on a ship to Singapore, & will deliver them (fully loaded with all our gear, serviced & with new tyres) to a freight depot in Melbourne on 27 February 2008. I will then return to Adelaide, leaving us a month to address any last minute issues before I fly to Singapore, carrying little more than a toothbrush, on 29 March, & hope Chris turns up on the following day.

It is going to be weird not having a bike to ride for a month, while I cool my heels at home. I am reminded of Hernando Cortez, the Spanish explorer who, on reaching the New World in 1519, set fire to his ships to rule out all thought of retreat. As a result, his men were well motivated to succeed in their new venture. So will I be, if I’ve got to go to Singapore just to get my bloody bike back! And if I’m there, I might as well keep going.

The bikes crated in Melbourne, 27 February 08

These are original BMW crates & straps, kindly donated to the cause. We had to drain the tanks & disconnect the batteries, but we were able to leave the front wheels on, & only had to remove the top boxes, windscreens & mirrors, & drop the handlebars down a bit. Then we just added some cladding to the framework. The crates will be stacked in a standard sea freight container. As long as nobody drops the crates, or drives a forklift through them, we should be reasonably OK !! Fingers crossed.

The finished product.....looks unremarkable enough. Next stop Singapore.