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Letters from the road
Sunday, 2 October 2022
Morocco
Topic: Africa
I leave Malaga at six am and arrive in the new world an hour and a half later. Morocco is just a little bit more than a quick hop across the Med, but as soon as you get here, you know your not in Spain. First problem, the airport is 50km inland, surrounded by desert. No public transport here, just the usual hoard of taxi touts. Ah well, when in Rome. For only double my airfare I get a ride into town, in a car that I'm sure has been used in a suicide bombing somewhere. 
Agadir is a sort of Surfers Paradise. Its got lots of ritzy hotels with big pools lining the bay. I'm booked into the Hotel Welcome, it's not one of them. It's in the dusty, dirty bit of town. Cheap and cheerful, it's cleen, has breakfast, and internet, and stray cats. They are every where, a meal with out a cat looking up at you is not a meal here.
Why Agadir you ask? It was the cheapest airfare out of Europe. My ninety day visa was about to expire, and seventeen Euros buys a lot of airfare sometimes. Better check out what the place is about. I'll give them marks for effort, half of the town seems to be being rebuilt. They are turning the roads into tree lined boulevards, but the half finished result is more like walking through a building site. It's a half hour walk to the beach. It's got a wide boardwalk and a fine selection of restaurants. I'm not quite ready to go full native on the food yet, so lets try something familiar.
KFC is something that I feel like until I've eaten it. I was feeling like lunch and there it was. I particularly dislike the chips, which have never been edible since the stopped covering them in an inch of chicken salt. There's a terrazza out the front, and a young guy chasing away the kids who are like hungry wolves circling a carcass. The kids don't look particularly hungry, I think they just enjoy the game. Jump on the path, wave at people eating, young guy chases you back off path. As a fan of juvenile delinquency, I gave one of the little guys my chips on the way out. On the way back I hit my first Moroccan coffee shop. The main business I can see around town is blokes sitting around drinking tea. Standard place has around 30 guys (only) just hanging out. Buy a pot, sit as long as you want. Good cafe au lait is about a buck.
After a few days checking out the lowlights,it's time to move on. Agadir is in the south of the country, and a couple of hundred clicks south are meant to be some great surf beaches. Problem one is how to get there. Morocco doesn't seem to do busses between towns. The main form of transport seems to be collectivos, and the all seem to leave from a place 10 km out of town. First job is catch the local bus to the main bus station. On the third try I get it right. Reward breakfast. Next get a taxi with my six new best friends to a place called Tiznit. There are 30 lines of taxies, I don't speak French, or Berber. Just wander around saying Tiznit loudly. People keep on pointing you in different directions until "bingo". A couple of hours later we're there. Tiznit is in the middle of a desert and about as exciting as it sounds. I really want to get to the beach. Repeat above process with Sidi Ifni inserted for Tiznit. My new friends include a woman with three small children. It's about another couple of hours so l sit back and relax. Five minutes out of town we pull over, and the taxi driver buys the woman a large bottle of red fizzy drink. I think you can see were this is going. An hour later the little kid in the middle seat turns him inside out, much to the amusement of the driver. Fifteen minutes later it the turn of the kid beside me. Fortunately he has been supplied with a plastic bag to stick over his head. Ten minutes later we're there. I get lunch, fried fish and a bean stew for a couple of bucks.
I really want to get to Legzira. About six km down the road, for a buck you can catch the local bus, then walk a km down the hill, to the beach, that's famous for a rock with a hole in it. There used to be two of them but the one fell down a couple of years ago. Some thing to think about while you are walking through the other one. It's a beautiful beach with lots of cheap accommodation overlooking the water. Perfect place to catch up on the reading, or watch people with no knowledge of how to swim get sucked out by the beach rip.
I've been thinking of how to get out of here.I need to sort of head home soon as my last bankcard expires at the end of the month. Every day I Check on google flights. I'd like to sort of head east. The problem is some are a bit exotic, even for me. Think Tripoli or Kinshasa. Most of the others go through Europe. Visa Problems. Or like Cairo are just damn expensive. Eventually I find a set of flights that almost meet the criteria. There expensive, go totally in the wrong direction, involve a stopover in one of the most depressed places in the world. And it also leaves in four days time from Marrakesh in the middle of the country. Time to leave the beach. I'm in.
Marrakesh is a great market town. A huge souk sells everything. Need a Real Madrid footy shirt, Metal lampy thing, weird spice, or maybe another lampy thing, It's got it. I caught a taxi with a couple of young German blokes to the middle of town, and ended up at the hostel. From there we all went out searching for a feed. Tagine. Kabap, Couscous, Moroccan Salad, great food, why would you think of anything different to eat. We are thinking of something different, the food here is great but it gets very much more of the same, very quickly. We spend an hour looking round the souk, then give up and settle on Kabap. It's good, I go there another couple of times. When I get to the airport there is a Starbucks, but by then I had spent all my cash. At least they had the obligotory stray cat airside.

 
You know what to do for the photos.





Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Tuesday, 4 October 2022 4:15 PM NZT
Saturday, 10 September 2022
The Old Dart
Topic: Europe
Gatwick Hotel

 

 

 

Twelve hours in England. It's cold and dreary, totally in the wrong direction, suddenly overrun with mourners, and unfortunately the best way to get where I want to go. The Queen is as dead as the Pound but that hasn't stopped all the hotels jacking up their prices $500, because this may be the last chance to make a killing before someone turns the lights out. I arrive after midnight, and sleep in the airport with my 200 new friends . Next morning I meet up with a mate, while he was charged 10 pounds drop off charge for stopping to pick me up. Drive through the gloom to Marks and Spencer at Crawley. Get off at garage and walk 500meters to avoid drop off charge. Get back on plane. Highlight Company and Nice bacon roll, oj at M+S. Things not to miss, que for non existent taxis in middle of the night after bingle on M25 shut the ring road.


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Monday, 3 October 2022 5:36 PM NZT
Thursday, 8 September 2022
The Rest
Topic: Europe


            Well actually no rest, While just about everyone else is headed back to a Victorian winter, l don’t even have a return ticket. This seemed like a good idea six months ago, but COVID and bad management by the airlines has seen return ticket prices doubling by the month. Oh well, I still have a month left before my visa runs out.  Perhaps things will get cheaper after the European summer holidays. Time to leave the beach, and head to “the beach”. Benidorm is known as a little bit of England in Spain. Well known for its English speakers, and pubs doing bangers and mash. For a couple of days I hang out with a mate.  Things I like, they speak Spanish without the mix of French, Catalan, and German thrown into every sentence. Get up early, coffee , walk, sesita, dinner and a few beers. My mates headed to Madrid for business. This is his old stamping ground, so that’s the next stop. Got to love wall to wall tapas bars. Down to Cordoba , where I meet up with a few more travelling Wilburrys. For the next couple of weeks we trip around the southeast of Spain. My mate was born here, but lives in  Melbourne. We hang out with his family at the finca (farm), and rent a 4 room mansion in the middle of Malaga.  More Tapas bars and Curingqitos.  My time here is at an end. I catch the six am flight to Morocco, while the crew head off for a couple of days in Marbella. Thanks Pete, Ern, Maria, and the Family, for the company. Catch you on the flip. 
007.

Click the pic.

Posted by bondrj at 11:04 AM NZT
Updated: Monday, 3 October 2022 1:12 PM NZT
Tuesday, 9 August 2022
The Spanish House
Topic: Europe


               It’s not one house, it’s really three. A beach, and a beach bar. What more could you want. Click the pic for more.

Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Tuesday, 4 October 2022 4:20 PM NZT
Sunday, 10 July 2022
The French House
Topic: Europe

 

    Get a bunch of friends together, rent a big house with a pool, go do lunch, hang out, drink some wine. You would think most people would jump at it.

    Unfourtunatly life gets in the way. Love to come but I have to take my bins out on Tuesday night sort of stuff. Mick spreadsheeted it, but the numbers didn't look good. Build it and they will come I replied. So we took the leep into the unknowen. Eventually a brave quorom appeared.

   Heres to you hose mates, I think we made the right choice.

As usual Click the pic for the action.

A big thanks to all the people who took the photos, you know who you are.

 007


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Thursday, 6 October 2022 4:30 PM NZT
Sunday, 26 June 2022
France a Velo
Topic: Europe

 


Click the pic for more photos

   Riding a bike may not be the fastest way to get there, but on holiday speed isn’t that important. The pluses are at a slow speed you don’t miss much, apart from the odd lookout five hundred meters plus up a hill. “C'est la vie”, we are already here, why would we need to look down on it.
     Day one. I rock into Paris after an overnight train from Berlin. For a bike ride, you need a bike. Fortunately I have the best spreadsheet man in France on the job. “Mick”. In the box it says buy bikes. We drop off our gear at our hotel, and head off looking for bikes at a couple of local bike shops. The first one is just down the road, and it has a fine spread of bikes that sort of look suitable just outside the shop. The guy in the shop is busy so we head over the road to a local brassiere. Le menu is the staple of the French working man. For 17 euros we get a three course lunch. Terrine, Roast  chook, and crème brûlée, washed down with Evian, and whatever else looks suitable. A couple of hours later we are back. After a quick inquiry, we are disappointed to find that the bikes out the front are the locals in for repair. No problems, we have a list of other targets. Three bike shops later, two actually, one had been turned into a dress shop, still no bikes. Time for plan B. Decathlon is a large category killer sports store. All you need is cash.  Four hundred euro’s later, I have a bike, pack rack, panniers, even a stack hat. It’s not even dinner time and we are ready to roll.
       The plan is head south down the Seine, along the canal to the Loire, through the hills to Lyon, then south along the Rohne to Avignon. We start by heading down to the junction of the river Marnie, and the Seine. Scenic highlights here are car wrecks, and a huge abandoned Chinese restaurant. You gotta start somewhere. Navigation isn’t all that difficult. 1. We are following a river. 2. Europe has a system of long distance bike trails called the Euro velos. Euro velo 3 starts in Norway, and finishes in Spain via Paris. At sometime we will jump to Euro velo 6 towards Lyon. They are well marked, and run along either bike trails or very quite roads. Our plan is to do 30 to 60km, a day. Stop at every patisserie. Find a “menu” for lunch, and a cheap hotel with a magnificent view, comfortable beds, and a crowed bar for dinner. Not too much to ask really.
        River’s don’t really do hills, this is a good thing when you are on a bike. We stop at Melun for lunch. This is inspired, because for the rest of the day we don’t see much other than quite canal paths, and little houses. Our 50kms for the day takes us to Champagne sus seine, not much here. We head on to the next town past closed b and b’s and not open yet hotels. It’s s early June, so the summer rush hasn’t started yet, so lots of stuff is still closed. Finally we see a sign for a campground. A cabin maybe. I guess I could stoop as low as that. Mick my French expert handles the negotiations. We have a place. That’s it “a place”. Back to reception, there are cabins here but you can’t rent them. The owner offers us an old tent for ten euros, it’s late, and we are tired. Deal. I find some cardboard boxes t stick under the tent, and pinch a blanket from the laundry.  Town is a couple of klicks away, and it is actually quite lively. Crepes  for dinner, then back to the dirt. It’s still light at ten, and our site has power, with free bugs included. Amazingly I sleep like a log, and the showers in the morning are hot. 
          That’s the routine for the next ten days. We stay in hotels, apartments, gites, b+b’s, and even a convent. One French family welcomed us into their home. We were getting kicked out of our hotel in Villemandeur because of a cat show. Françios graciously agreed to house us cat evicted orphans, and proceeded to even feed us. I am forever great full for being shown the French tradition of drinking a soup bowel full of coffee, out of a soup bowl for breakfast. Just the thing to set you up for a long days riding.
         Good things can’t last forever, and we have an appointment with our French county mansion. The last ride is thirty km from Avignon. I’ve been here before and I remember the roads being narrow and busy. Then out of the blue we stumble on an unfinished rail trail. In Victoria this would be sealed off waiting two years for the final sign off from some UN body. Here in France not finished open. It’s even heading in the right direction. Eventually I recognise the shops about 5 minutes from our new home. Baguettes, check, Milk, check, six pack of cold Heinekens for 5 euro, check. Peddle for a couple of minutes. Jump in the pool. Check. We’re here.
          Thanks to Mick for the navigation and the planning. For the local experience “Warm showers” is a bike touring website, that connects bike tourer’s with people who have spare rooms. 

 

 


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Monday, 27 June 2022 4:09 AM NZT
Sunday, 29 May 2022
Berlin
Topic: Europe
 
 
 
Click the pic above for more photos

   When I think of Berlin I get John Le Čarre novels, and the Cold War. As a child of the 60’s the threat of nuclear annihilation, and Berlin surrounded by the communist state, is burnt into my head. The Berliners sensibly have gotten way past this. The wall has all but been erased, to be replaced by shiny new apartment blocks, and chiq cafes. The only vestige of Stalinist  architecture is the American embassy. The only sign of fascism  the toilet ladies who no matter how desperate you are won’t let you have a pee for less than a euro at every train station. Instead you get a modern city, a bit like a huge Canberra. It’s even got a big stick thingy sticking out of the center of it you can use to get your bearing’s. 
       I’ve got a couple of days here, day passes are cheap, so let’s jump on the bus and see what we can find. 


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Tuesday, 4 October 2022 4:22 PM NZT
Friday, 11 February 2022
Nepal
Topic: East Asia

    


So I think I have just fixed all the photo links in this blog. It's only taken about two years of procrastination In celebration here is the first story i posted. It was on a web page back in the dark ages of 2002 in Nepal. From memory it took a whole afternoon in Mads flat, a slide scanner, and two different internet providers in Katmandu to load up. It's from when Mick and I walked to Everest. 

 

 

       Once upon a time there where two brothers. Who went to climb Rum Doodle the tallest mountain in the world at 40,000 � thousand feet. They took there trusty mascot and stayed in tea houses. While all the time braving the Napalie trails and checking out the scenery. . �They fought hardship, crossed wild gorges, fought their way through blizzards, all the while trying to keep the natives at bay. After 7 long days and 7 even longer nights, they reached the peak� only to find it had already been assailed by hordes of others.

They also got drunk, feed the street kids, and lost all our money at the casino but that�s another story.

 

The second part of the story is here, comes with a language warning. 


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM EADT
Updated: Saturday, 19 February 2022 5:58 PM EADT
Tuesday, 30 November 2021
Up in the air Junior Birdman.
Topic: Undefined

     Boats . They take forever to get there. Then there is all that bobbing around like a cork. No thanks. Choppers. Glorified Egg beaters. One hundred thousand nuts and bolts, heading in different directions. To me they seem like playing hopscotch in a minefield, not a sensible form of transport. Then there are little planes. I'm much happier with a bourbon and coke up the back where I can't see the pilot panicking. I know that it's twenty seven times safer then driving down the street but I'm always happier when we are back on the ground, and I'm not packed into the glove box with two hundred of my friends.

     My mate has been threatening to take me up in his plane for the last fifteen years. He has even worn out one plane in that time.  Friday night at the pub " Wanna fly tomorrow", beer makes you do strange things. Why not. Lilydale airport is on the edge of town, fields and hangers full of small planes. You can learn to fly there. We push open the hanger door, the little red plane is just that. Little. Two seats, three hundred and twenty kilos. Even surrounded by little planes it's little. A marvel of modern technology, made from carbon fibre, space age, electronics, and unobtainem. After an hour of checks, I squeeze into my seat. I'm not that big, but there is only one place I can put my hands without getting in the way of anything important. And I'm surround by important. Normally I'm in the back with the hosties, but the only thing behind me is a little window in the roof, a reusable grocery bag, and what looks like a large fire cracker beside it. " What's that" , I ask. That's the plane parachute. "OH" good to see the guys who built this have complete confidence.

    "Clear prop", taxi , after what seem like using up about fifty feet of runway were in the the air. A couple of hours later we're back at the pub. Aside from a few bumps, it was great to see town from a different angle. Thanks mate.

 

Click here for the views of town. 


Posted by bondrj at 10:22 PM EADT
Updated: Saturday, 19 February 2022 6:02 PM EADT
Wednesday, 8 September 2021
The Rocky Road less traveled.
Topic: Australia

 
               So I'm on a rocky track in the middle of nowhere, with a busted Volkswagen, no phone reception, and it's dark. What am I doing here again. Ahh I remember, supporting our poor country cousins.

      Summer Twenty Twenty didn't start well  for the bush. Visitors dried up after we had droughts, then major bush fires, which burnt an area one and a half times the size of England. This is normally the time when us  city people flock to the bush/beach. The locals whinge about the crowds, the farmers hide, but they all make enough cash to survive another year.   The media convinced us  city folk  that every thing past our line of sight was burnt to a crisp. Even if it wasn't, it would spontaneously  combust, the moment you got there, instantly adding you and your family to the global warming problem. Fact check, Australia is big, only 0.4% got burnt. Time for Mick and I to put our super hero capes on and come to the rescue, with a beer, Pama, coffee and cake tour.

    The original plan was to leave after the March school holidays 2020, splash some cash around country VIC/NSW, then return with a warm glow of knowing we had done our bit.  Ah, the best laid plans, Mick got delayed by a week, then COVID hit, then the borders closed, then Melbourne, got  the "Ring of Steel", then 200 days of lockdown. I sound like I'm making excuses here, but really I tried, it wasn't my fault. 

     Skip to April 2021, Victoria is having one of its rare Covid lockdown free days, Even better some the State borders are open. Time to hit it. We plough  through the ring of steel into Gippsland visiting friends, Lunch in Barnesdale, Afternoon tea in Cain River.  A couple of days later we even get through the NSW border. As per usual Mick has his spread sheet of goals and tasks to accomplish. One of these is to drive around some of the bush in the south eastern corner of NSW, so we hit the dirt tracks checking out some remote beaches and sights. Back on the main road he points out snake track. " I think that's where we want to go". OK. It's a bit rough, but we are taking it easy. there are some houses on the side of the road. After a while the houses disappear, but the tracks still ok. Then the track gets a bit worse, OK we will bail at the first intersection. Twenty clicks in the tracks off the road are way worse than the one we are on, but its only about another ten k to the main road. We stop to kick a big rock off the road, still cruising.  The track here is a bit less used and has some grass in the middle of it. Bang we hit something, where did that come from. Just around the next bend the track gets way better. I think we have made it. Then this giant red oil can appears on my dash along with a loud alarm. Bugger. I stop check under the car and there is oil running out the bottom. Not Good. 
    It's late afternoon, there is no phone signal. Well we can't drive, and we need to get out of here. I start walking and soon see some paddocks. I can't hear any banjos, so their must be some civilisation around here. I find a house but there is no one about, so I climb the hill and get a bit of phone signal. Soon enough I'm talking to the local towie.  Be an hour mate. No worries I'm going back to the car, see ya. An hour and a half later it's getting dark and I'm back on top of the hill. " Sorry got another job, be another hour" Finally It's dark, but we see a truck creeping up the track. We had got through the rough bit, and an hour later we are in town. The towie takes us to the nearest motel. It's full, so is the next, the pubs getting reno'd. The last chance has one double left. We check in and head to the pub but the kitchen is getting reno'd too, so it's the trusty Chinese.  I can highly recommend the Golden ocean chinese cafe for great old fashioned chinese australian food. Tomorrows another day.
    After breaky we head to the garage. The boys are busy, but say they might get a chance to look at it in the Arvo. This is the second time I have been stuck here in five years. Last one was on a yacht with three dead alternators. We do the wharf, van park, main st, coffee shops, fisherman's club, public phones, recycle bins. Bega tick. Back to the garage. The VW has a aluminium sump, light but fragile, and broken. I hear Parts, time, money, yer, yer, I'm out of here guys, ring me when it's fixed. Seven A.M we're on the bus.
    Next stop Canberra, not quite the bush, but i've just spent 3 months here. My friends parents are over from Ireland, and I have a couple of little jobs I want to do. The Capital is fun but the spread sheet is calling. Monday morning back on the bus. Our mate Shergs, lives in Sydney and has a car. Train to the edge of town, Shergs finds us in the pub. By arvo we are at Wisemans ferry to check out the old convict road, then off to the pub. It's booked out, seems to be a bit of a theme going on here.  We get a couple of expensive rooms at the only other place in town, the resort. Well we are here to support the economy. 
    The idea is to get to Armadale to see the Cuz via the Hunter Valley. I have visions of winerys, and quite little country towns. By the time we are in Singleton it's getting on. Nice place lets stay here. Great idea, but the place is booked out. Oh well there is always Muswellbrook, it's a fair size. Drive by of the Liddle power station, and some lake that will kill you if you swim in it are the highlights of this bit. The town is full of places to stay, but they are all full. The power station has a shutdown, so does the railway line. Every thing in town is full of tradies, or gray nomads who got here before us. Aberdeen, full, Scone, we try every place in town, and it's getting late.  The very last pub has a last minute cancelation. It has steak and beer.
    Shergs is over it, he has stuff to do back home. No worries we will get back on the bus. Nice breakfast, bus station, you guessed it, booked out. Normally there is a train but the line has a shutdown. No bus till the next day. No accomodation, we call the Cuz, he's sick, and doesn't feel like a 300 km round trip. We jump in the car with Shergs and head back to Muswellbrook. At the car rental place they just laugh, Shutdown, We give up. Back in Sydney we check into the Central hostel and have a great meal in Spice lane. This is more like it. By noon the next day we have caught a flight home. 
    A week later I walk to Caulfield and jump on the train. Morning tea in Barnesdale, Lunch at Cain River, It's like Deja Vu. The time table says I will be in Eden at 3.55 PM. At the Garage I chat to the Guys, I came here to support the bush, here's my two and a half grand. By four I'm blasting out of town.  I may be some time before I'm back.
 
Click the pic for more 

Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Thursday, 9 September 2021 12:26 AM NZT

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