Bamboo Safari

Kumily, India (map)

In this blog: a great bus ride, a bad cycle, and a walk in the park - safari park.

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Fighting monkeys

The answers rang off like an episode of Family Fortunes; with everyone answering with total conviction as if I was asking them the colour of the sky. There was no doubt in their voices, but total disparity between their answers. The question, a simple 'What time is the bus to a Kumily?':

Hotel manager: '2.20pm, but be there at 2'

Shopkeeper nearby: '2.20pm'

Rickshaw driver: '3.00pm'

Man waiting at bus stand: '3.20pm'

Another rickshaw driver: '3.30pm'

The bus driver himself: '3.45pm'

Total confusion as ever but fortunately waiting around for an hour or so wasn't a problem - you can only smile. To be fair, public transport in India generally isn't as bad as it may sound - it runs regularly and often leaves on time, despite the ever varying quality of buses, roads and driving. 

Leaving the tea town of Munnar, I took the local bus on the four hour journey south - the fare as ever, unimaginably cheap at just 87p (87 rupees). I sat next to a guy in his mid-twenties who couldn't speak English, but who upon seeing my camera whipped out his phone and proudly showed me grainy and blurry videos of landscapes that he'd filmed on his tiny phone, bless him. Later after a break a pleasant old guy, also with no English, offered me his seat by the window then some of his peanuts. The driver and conductor were also both very friendly and helpful guys, even saying hello out of the blue the next day when I passed them on the street. There's kindness on every journey in India. But the journey itself; well what can I say, except that it was one of the most beautiful I've ever been on. Winding for an hour or so through tea plantations in the mountains, with rocky summits above, then going along a high ridgeline where you could see over miles of rolling hills and forest, before dropping into valleys, passing through cardamon plantations and small villages. A lovely afternoon, made all the better by the  windowless buses they have in Kerala (except for the windscreen, that would be a bit suicidal). 

We arrived in the dark at Kumily, a small town on the edge of Periyar National Park. The town itself is nothing to write home about - for the most part a typically noisy, dirty and delapated Indian town, but the park itself is one of the biggest parks in the country and professionally run for once. After two other safaris elsewhere in India I thought I'd do the hatrick - following one in a jeep, and one on a bus, this time it was both on foot and floating about on a bamboo raft.

Ride to Nowhere

Kumily was said to be a nice area for a cycle, so the next day naturally I grasped the opportunity and hired a ride for the day, since it was too late to arrange any activities in the park that day. As with most bikes I've hired in India the first one was terrible, so much so that with the forks wobbling violently and brakes barely working, I took it back and got a refund before it killed me, finding something else mildly better nearby. Finding a map was equally difficult - nothing was sold, and the printer in the Internet cafe wasn't working, so I ended up taking a photo of the map on screen using my tablet, before eventually I was on the road.

Logging truck

I set off on an aimless cruise about, first reaching a pair of official looking gates, getting refused entry by the guard as it turned out to be a tribal settlement. I instead went down a dirt track to the side, eventually getting back on another road. The houses nor fences didn't seem the usual style and there were few cars or bikes around. I then had a suspicion I'd inadvertently gone into the settlement, but wasn't sure. I decided to keep going anyway, passing fairly simple concrete houses, fences made from woven branches, and some simple mud huts. After ten minutes or so I started passing people, getting more looks than usual before passing a building which clearly said 'tribal school' outside, confirming my thoughts. The people looked and dressed the same as any typical Indian, so I guess these had been re-homed from the national park voluntarily or otherwise, and adapted to modern life somewhat. I found my way out the other end  without any security dramas and continued on.

Normal when I cycle, an obvious loop presents itself but this time nothing seemed to flow. The turnings I needed to be able to make a loop didn't seem to exist, and after heading downhill a few miles I u-turned back to the start, before going up a steep hill a few miles, again finding no junctions and turning back the same way. The scenery was nice though, passing one spice garden after the next, a tea growing area, and a coffee plantation, before reaching a village in the hills where kids shouted and waved at me, with one group of young boys even trying to block the road to make me stop and talk. Despite being in the hills of the Western Ghat mountains where it's generally cooler, it was still darn hot so drained of energy, frustrated with the single-gear bike, and for once a bit bored, I headed back after a couple of hours and barely fifteen miles, instead going for a little stroll in the woods and reading a book instead. I'm not sure where anyone got the idea Kumily is good for cycling.

Periyar National Park

After a disappointing safari a couple of weeks before, I thought I'd have one last stab at seeing the wildlife of India. I set off on a nice dawn stroll, heading a couple of miles along the road into the national park towards the visitors centre, seeing just a small herd of wild Indian Bison on the way, in some open grassland. At the park centre our group met - an Indian couple, a lawyer from California, and a Korean girl; all nice people. Along with two guides and an armed guard in case of elephant attacks, we headed off into the forest. As dangerous as that sounds, the guard said he'd not had to fired a warning shot once in over ten years! For the first couple of hours the scenery changed immensely, going from evergreen forest, to teak plantation, to denser forest, to open grassland. Visitor numbers are tightly controlled in the park and in fact we were one of just a couple of groups that day, making it feel very natural. 

Malabar squirrel

The sound of crickets permeated the air throughout the day, but in one section they were overwhelmingly loud, to the point they almost hurt your ears; a football stadium of insects upset that we'd strayed onto their turf. The guides stopped and picked out various things along the way - termites decimating a branch, ants scrambling up a tree en-masse, a wild chicken rummaging in the undergrowth (they can fly properly you know), and niligiri langurs (monkeys) lazing in the trees. The guide held out his hand to us, indicating to stop, pointing high up in the trees to a Malabar squirrel - indigenous to the region and one of the worlds biggest, with a large bushy tail and a multi-coloured quilt of a coat. Quite a sight.

Rafting time

We stopped for the packed breakfast they'd issued (bread, bread, bread), before reaching the lake and starting the main part of the trip - bamboo rafting. The raft was fantastic - a home made beast made from huge pieces of bamboo tied together, with seats fashioned from smaller sections. The guides sat at the back doing most of the paddling, though we were handed a hand carved paddle each and encouraged to do our bit. The lake itself was built by the British in 1895 to supply water to towns in the neighbouring state of Tamil Nadu, and at this time of year the water level is pretty low, meaning you should easily be able to spot wild animals coming out of the forest to drink. Unfortunately we didn't. Despite being able to see miles of shoreline, all we managed to see was a couple of wildboar grazing. Oh well, nothing is guaranteed on a safari and that's half the excitement. All very relaxing though, slowly floating around in the sun.

We stopped for another hike in the forest. The guides pointed out a few trees, including the banyan - a parasite that climbs other trees, kills them and becomes the main tree itself. We saw huge climbers, the sort that Tarzan would swing on, some 8" or so in diameter, a curryleaf bush - a key part of Indian cooking, and a wild chilli bush - even spicier than the domestic chilli, as I found out after eating one. Tingly tongue would be an understatement. The guide scraped off some tree bark and held it to our noses - cinnamon it turned out, and picked a fruit from a bush which we tried - guava fruit. A little further on, excitingly a mongoose ran into site for a few seconds, but disappeared before we could really get a good glimpse. We returned to the shore where we left the boat, and the guys unfolded a big tarpaulin for us to lunch on. A snake wriggled it's way out, and headed towards the lake! It was only a small one, maybe an inch in diameter and a metre long, and was apparently a water snake, which would have climbed on board as we rafted. Reassuring! 

Indian elephant,and
sambar deer

Disappointingly we rafted back exactly the same way as before, but did manage to spot a white necked stork, egrets, some little cormorants, and a fish eagle - I write these names in ignorance, just reciting the guides' expert knowledge. Beautiful birds though. After another walk for an hour or so, we were back at the visitors centre. Despite being packed with noisy tourists, ironically we saw the most wildlife of all (secretly fed by staff for the benefit of tourists I wondered) - a pack of sambar deer, and a mother and baby wild elephant, grazing on the other side of the river - finally! Our group dispersed, and I started wandering back to the village, spotting some monkeys hanging out on a building site. I sat down and watched them for twenty minutes or so - lazing, fighting, hanging from trees, stealing crisps from passing children. Prime time entertainment. 

On the way back an Indian woman in her mid-twenties, walking along with her children, started talking to me. She was very friendly and chatty, and her husband and friends soon joined them - a group of sixteen of them on holiday together, having taken a thirty-eight hour train journey to get there! I got invited to have a tea with them, before finding the cafe was closed and saying goodbye. My point here is that it was the first time in over four months an Indian woman had initiated a proper conversation with me, after talking to hundreds of Indian men. It always appears to me to be be shyness, a lack of confidence, or domination by husbands. Or maybe I should start washing my clothes more often.

Niligiri langur (monkey)

Empty 'shells' of dead crickets

Raaaaaa! Bison skull

Our snake friend

Egrits and cormorants

South Indian 'thali' lunch - 45p for all this!

Beaches and Biking

Palolem, Goa, India

In this blog: quiet beaches, a rural village, a one armed beach poet and a funk-soul party.

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This follows part one the Palolem blog - I kindly suggest read that one first. Only if you feel like it. You don't have to. No pressure.

18th Feb

Beautiful paddy fields

After a couple of lazy days on the beach at Palolem, it was time to get out and about and see the local area, so naturally I hired a bicycle; a pretty terrible creaky single-geared Indian thing, and hit the road. Since arriving in Goa it's been about 32° and sunny every day, but this day it was even hotter, maybe 'cause of a lack of breeze. Knowing the present weather at home, I know I'm getting no sympathy discussing this! Drowning in my own sweat, I followed my nose and went inland through a small town, along quiet roads, over a large river, through some nice jungle and some small villages. I passed some locals removing silt from the river by hand, saw a very Indian take on what a Catholic Church should look like, and went along a road that cut through the middle of some beautiful vivid green paddy fields, fringed all around by palm trees. It ended up being about a twenty mile loop, which eventually led me back to the coast.

Galgibad beach, aka Turtle beach

Turtle beach, when I eventually reached it was a revelation - a very peaceful and undeveloped place with very few people around; just a few simple huts and cafés set back from the beach amongst the trees, and a mile-long stretch of sand. It was a total contrast to busy Palolem and I absolutely loved the tranquility of it - a rarity in India. In fact, it was like back in Cornwall for a couple of hours.

Back in Palolem that night, I wandered along the beach to see what was occurring, bumping into Hans and his friends at a small gig along the way, where some Westerners played Indian instruments like the sitar and tabla. It was a bit embarrassing to watch, not cause they lacked skill, but was a bit like watching white people doing black rap music. The traditional Hindi songs were pretty dull, but their versions of western music such as a couple of Rolling Stones songs were plain awful. That's free gigs for you. Whilst sat there one of Hans' friends told us a yarn about how he was once installing a fountain in the home of Eric Clapton. Walking through his house he cheekily picked up a guitar thinking no-one was around and started playing it, only for Eric himself to walk in and rather than get annoyed, instead gave him a half hour guitar lesson. Lucky guy.

We later went to a silent disco - music in Goa is banned after 10pm, so a couple of venues hire out wireless headphones to party goers and the party continues. I'd tried this before at Glastonbury a few years ago and whilst fun, in many ways it's just a bit of a novelty, but ended up being good fun, and not as anti-social as it sounds, as you can talk easily in the silence when slip off the headset. I met and hung about with Emily and Milly for a quite a while - a couple of young and slightly snobby English girls who were actually quite fun, and later bumped into a group of people from Okehampton of all places. Can't get away from those Devonians. 

19th Feb

Deserted Talpona beach

After enjoying the peace and solitude of Turtle beach the day before, I headed south on the hire bike again, to another remote sandy bay backed by a long line of trees, which was even quieter and less developed again. So much so, that I was the only person on this mile long stretch of sand some of the time - a complete surprise in the country where you can't normally escape people for even a second. After a relaxing day of reading on the beach and in the makeshift cafe behind, I braved the local dogs on the journey back. Indian dogs, stray or owned, seem to go a little loopy after dusk. I was warned of this by a local, and carried some stones in my pocket to try and scare them off when needed, but these were hardy dogs and I still had to pedal pretty fast to escape the blighters a time or two. 

Back in Palolem that evening, walking along the beach I found myself drawn like a mosquito to skin into a packed cafe along the beach, where funk-soul tunes were blaring out and the place was jumping. The music this time was absolutely fantastic, and I had a great time dancing with three French ladies in their sixties, friends of friends from the cooking course - they still had the moves. Afterwards on the beach outside, I hung around with German Hans, and English Emily and Milly, watching  an Indian fire dancer. This guy was good - he starting by spinning a long pole with each end on fire, then moved on to fire poise, jumping through a flaming hoop, and his finale of filling his mouth with presumably paraffin (Indian H&S again), and blowing out huge fireballs into the night sky.

20th Feb

Sunset at Agonda beach

After cycling north about six miles and spending the day at Agonda beach, I returned to Palolem and that evening and bumped into Emily and Milly at a beach cafe, so had a few drinks with them and a couple of their friends. A young Indian guy came up to us and introduced himself as 'the beach poet'. With a large number '7' tattooed on his neck, and his left arm missing he was quite the character, and makes his living by reading poetry to people on the beach in return for tips. Being late at night he gave us a free poem, maybe as an appetiser, hoping for us to scream 'more poetry, MORE POETRY!'. To be fair he was actually pretty funny, and it was quite a novel idea. Only in India.

21st Feb

Beer time with Aussie Shaun

My Australian friend Shaun, who'd I'd previously hung around with in Rishikesh and Mumbai arrived in Palolem, along with Oz (coincidental name) - his German mate of Kurdish-Turkish origin; a switched on and funny guy. We met up at nearby Patnem beach for a sunset beer and ended up having a really good laugh and talking crap for hours. Walking back later, I came across Aurelia and Christophe in a bar, a French couple I'd met a few days before so finished the night having a beer and talking to them before yet another late bedtime.

22nd Feb

Ride to Chapoli dam

Village in the hills near Palolem

Cycled inland a few miles into the mountains to Chapoli dam, a place that I saw on the map that turned out to be well off the tourist radar. With a steep hill, one gear on my bike, and once again 32° sun with no breeze, I was a sweaty mess. With no-one else in sight, I sat by the quiet lake for a while relaxing, watching eagles flying overhead. Cycling further up into the hills, I reached a dead end at a remote village and stood there for a few minutes, looking around at the basic houses, dried-out rice terraces and a volleyball area, a sport which seems popular in Goa. Some women were drying out rice grains on the concrete playground of the local school, and a few buffalo wandered the roads on their own. A lad in his twenties came and talked to me in broken English, neither of us really understanding each other. 

At sunset, I met up with Aussie Shaun and German Oz on the beach again for a sundowner, later watching a live band whilst sat on the beach, and having Chinese noodles and a beer or two. Another fun night. 

23rd Feb

I headed southwards along the coast for the day across three different beaches, scrambling round the rocks to get between each. The further I got the quieter and more beautiful they were. I realised time was ticking and I'd been in Palolem over a week, when that night I found myself at the weekly reggae gig again, along with Aussie Shaun and German Hans. I got talking to a Scottish woman who was stereotypically loud and drunk, yet still composed enough to be good fun, and after sensible talk on Scottish independence, she helped me to fine tune my Scottish impersonation which was 'nearly impressive' apparently. 

24th Feb

A quiet day of blog writing and catching up on sleep after quite a few late nights. The only highlight was hiring a sea kayak for an hour, and paddling round a small island just offshore. With the sun setting, gentle rolling waves passing by, and the odd fishing boat on the horizon it was one of thos perfect moments that really brings a smile to your face. A great ending to three weeks in Goa. 

Goa had been infectious. I'd stayed a bit longer than I intended, but after six months on the move I had no issue with that. It was a holiday from a holiday. A time to relax, read, meet people, and party. I could never argue travelling is stressful, but it was good to have a break from getting up at a sensible hour, from being on the move all the time, from culture, poverty, uncomfortable transport, noise, seeing stuff and haggling. Imagine if you went to your favourite restaurant every single night, or spent all day, every day with your best friends; you'd probably get bored of it. The experience of travelling is similar - you can have too much of a good thing. 

But it's a big exciting world with lots to see though, and after three weeks I felt suitably rested and ready to move on, ready to get back out there and make the most of the great opportunity I have.

Catholic church, Indian style

Indian buffalo eating out with friends

Riverbed labourers

Indian spotted eagles flying overhead at Chapoli dam

Villagers drying out rice grains

Berlin brothers

Berlin, Germany

The past few days in Berlin have been brilliant. Despite it being bitterly cold at times, having my brother Chris in tow has been great, making everything more enjoyable and given me a fresh perspective towards this trip. 

He's in his first few months working as a doctor in Lincoln, and the hours and stress have taken their toll a bit, so he was equally as pleased to be out here for a break. Monday therefore started with a lie in, for him anyway, before heading off to be proper touristy and see the main sights. We stopped first at the Brandenburg gate - an icon of Germany due to its prominence through WWII and the Cold War, followed by a walk through the park past the Reichstag - the German parliament, down through the park to the Viktoria statue and a bus ride down to the other end of town via 'Checkpoint Charlie', before getting off by the cathedral to look in the DDR museum which told the story of life in East Germany before the Berlin Wall fell. Phew. With Chris finishing looking round way before me, I realised I sometimes spend a bit too long looking at everything in these places without necessarily taking it all in. He has got a short attention span mind.

Brandenburg Gate

After, a stroll to the Alexanderplatz area, a Currywurst and chips (classic Berlin fast food) for lunch then a bus ride back across town for our booking to go up in the Reichstag dome. This glass and steel dome hovers over the main debating room of the German parliament, and is a real icon of the city. It, along with the parliament was burnt down, slightly suspiciously, just as Hitler entered power and was only fully rebuilt in the nineties after the two Germanys became one. It's a stunning building, and the dome above had great panoramic views over the city, and some info on the German government today. To round the evening off, we went for my first pizza in three months, accompanied by a decent German wheat beer. Proper.

The Reichstag - German parliament 

Tuesday was Berlin Wall day. Chris doesn't cycle much, but I somehow managed to persuade him to join me in hiring a bike and following part of the route where the wall used to stand. It was marked right through the city by a line of bricks in the road, and in a few special places the original wall still stands, as well as various info and photo points showing then and now. One piece in particular opened our eyes - they had restored a hundred meter section to exactly how it was in that era, comprising a double concrete wall with barbed wire and access track between, and watch towers looming over. It would have been a pretty grim time to be a German. Further along we managed to track down an unrelated sight - that of where Hitler's underground wartime bunker was located. It's now completely filled in and exists as a car park, but the information by it showed exactly where everything was. It was here that he committed suicide, then was burnt outside by soldiers. We kept cycling after this until dark, ending up at the east side gallery - an original section of the wall, nearly a mile long which various artists and painted muras, mostly based around peace, the wars and the city.

Berlin Wall section

It was my last night, and nearly the end of Chris's flying visit already, so we went out to a German restaurant for tea. He had a bad stomach so kept it simple with steak, I went proper German and had rolled beef and bacon, with red cabbage and potatoes, followed by Apple strudel. An excellent final meal. Chris's stomach soon improved, so we found a traditional pub to try a local brew, then for the true German experience, drank out of one litre glasses back at the hostel.

The final day was to be a bit on the short side because we both had flights later on, so we headed to Berlin Olympic stadium. This was another Hitler idea - to host the Olympics in 1936 and show what a great country they were (but hide all the racism and murders). After falling to rack and ruin post-war, it was gutted and rebuilt for the 2006 football World Cup. With Chris being a big football fan, we paid to go in and have a look about. The grandeur of it all was pretty impressive, though it wasn't as stunning as some of the other Olympic parks I've visited. 

After this it was time for both of us to be on our way to the airport, which was a bit drama filled but that's a story for next time...

1936 Berlin Olympic stadium

East side gallery

The last supper... In Germany

Czech It Out

Prague, Czech Republic

Visiting countries is a bit like food. Sometimes you want the full meal -  like my two months in Sweden, other times you're happy with a spoonful - such as the Czech Republic. I'd not planned to go there, but having heard a lot of good things about Prague, and fancying a bit more diversity I nipped out of Germany into Eastern Europe. 

Monday started at 5.30am with a hike to the station, and onto a bus for my first taste of the German autobahn. Surprisingly despite the lack of any speed limit in places, I didn't see any extreme driving. Disappointing! The journey was a bit dull to be honest; lots of flat nondescript land, but arriving in Prague at lunchtime it was quite the opposite. 

It was mostly spared any bombing in WWII, and still retains a really wide variety of beautiful and varied old buildings, with a bit of a hybrid of West and East European styles. This does mean thousands of tourists however! I spent the afternoon wandering for miles around the old town in the sun, past jazz clubs and antique shops, taking in a small design exhibition, and stopping to look at a very warped-looking building, like a Salvador Dali painting (below).

 Frank Gehry designed Dancing House

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Yesterday, seeing it was free, I thought it was worth a look in the Czech military museum and surprised myself by being their first visitor of the day: rare. Learnt a bit more about the wars, and how Czechaslovakia (as it was) has been occupied by both the Germans and later Russians, and therefore had a pretty rough time of it until 1989.

A hire bike was then tracked down for a bit of exploring - around some more of the old town, the castle and a huge, ugly and crumbling Soviet-era stadium amongst other things. A nice day, and to top it off it was that sunny and warm I was in shorts and t-shirt. In late October! 

Most people I know who have been to Prague have done so on a stag do - my experience has been about as far from that as you can get - it's been a bit quiet in the social front. I can see why it's so popular though - apart from being beautiful,  I've gone from paying around£17 a night to £7, a beer in a pub is just over £1 and food etc is the same, though it doesn't really feel that poor. 

To finish my flying visit, today consisted of a trip to the technical museum - a bit like the one in Munich I visited, except with a crappier name. There were good exhibits anyway, including the oldest Audi in existence and some weird old bicycles. A few Skodas as well, since this is their home. After, I had time for a bit of a walkabout, then caught the bus I'm on now... to Poland! 

Old Town Square Prague

 

 

Thumbs up to another hire bike

 

 

Black Forest Gateaux

Freudenstadt, Black Forest, Germany

It may have been mostly the name that led me to the Black Forest - it just sounded a bit dark and mysterious. And reminded me of a nice cake.

The Black forest

To get there from Stuttgart though was a real pain - finding somewhere to go that was nice, but also had a hostel and train station - eventually I settled on Freudenstadt; a small town right in the forest, and got the next train from Stuttgard. The hostel was another dull Hostel International place - the only affordable way to stay in the countryside though - and was with the exception of me; taken over by a rather annoying band camp! (Cue American Pie jokes...).

The next day I walked outside and had a bit of a shock - the temperature has been fairly comfortable for a few weeks, but here it was under 7º all day, and I must admit it, along with the lack of sleep due to those noisy band campers, it put me in a miserable mood all morning.

I've not had much bike in my life recently (addict), and decided it was the best way to explore the area, so hired a mountain bike from nearby and set off into the Black Forest (route). It was really mysty which only enhanced the beautiful area, which was full of lots of steep and deep tree covered valleys, with a few small villages in clearings by the rivers below. It wasn't the most testing or exciting biking I've ever done, but because of the scenery it didn't really matter, and the ride eventually lifted my spirits. 

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Forty miles later at 5pm I got back to the hire shop, and to my dismay found it was shut and everyone had gone. Brilliant. The guy had clearly told me twice they shut at 6, but on reflection he probably meant to say 16:00. After a moment I decided to just take it back the next day, until I realised they'd be shut cause it was a Sunday. Great. I was leaving in the morning, and really didn't want to sit around another day just to wait for a shop to open. There was nowhere to put it, and my only real option seemed to be to leave it in the back room of the Kebab shop across the road. I decided to go back to the hostel and see if they had any ideas first though. Which was a good idea as the guy on duty was fortunately a really nice guy, and volunteered to take it back for me on Monday if I put some change in their charity pot (lets hope he does!). Sorted, phew.

This morning it was on again heading east, which was involved four train journeys, a cancellation, a long diversion, and some banter with a Columbian and Aussie girl here on exchange. Rather than totally waste the day to travelling, I stopped partway for an hour or so in the city of Ulm - Einstein's birthplace - and went for a wander, spotting a crazy statue of his head attached to a snail (long story), the tallest cathedral steeple in the world, and some nice old buildings. And now, Munich; a place I'm really looking forward to.

The Black forest

Ulm

Ulm, Birthplace of Einstein and home to this fairly kooky statue

Help! In Germany

Amt Neuhaus, Germany

Authenticity. Something you don't necessarily get too much of as a tourist. The hotel, shop and tour staff you encounter may appear nice but at the end of the day they have to be to get your business. Likewise with many tourist attractions - setup for tourists but not always very real. When you're travelling for longer this gets to you I find, and you crave real places, real life and encounters with real people. 

So after a fair bit of searching on the web I find myself in rural Germany - former East Germany to be precise, staying in a very run down farmhouse on a smallholding with a couple in their late 30's. It's very authentic, but in this case turns out to be not very pleasant.

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I'm here through a scheme called Help Exchange - where you work a few hours each day in exchange for board and keep, and then have time to explore the local area and get to know the locals in your spare time. I've done it before in New Zealand and it worked out brilliantly, staying in a nice beachside house with a lovely couple. Unfortunately here it's not quite the same experience.

I respect that everyone's different. People have different perceptions of what's normal and what matters in life so I hate sounding critical here, I'm just saying what I see. They are both nice enough people, who care deeply about animals and environment and try and live as simply and self-sufficiently as possible. Qualities that are admirable since our modern lifestyles are often wasteful, unsustainable and based on exploiting the third world. I try to minimise my impact on the world but don't come anywhere close to these guys. 

Before they bought this place they spent years travelling themselves, she living in a old van selling jewellery and leatherwork she made. He around Brazil mostly. They are hippies through and through, and have a lifestyle that suits them but wouldn't suit the wider world. But instead of them being relaxed as you'd imagine, this is a world of a thousand rules, tensions, and living in filth as you'll see...

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In the house: they pile up dirty plates on a shelf and wash them every three days, there's no fridge as apparently the cellar keeps food cool enough (11º vs 3º fridge, I think not), and they (not I) use tea bags two or three times. You eat bread off a small chopping board that just gets brushed off every time but not washed. The cat walks all over worktop, bread board and table and eats scraps from the sink. You each have your own tea mug that gets rinsed each time but washed every few days.

They (and therefore we) don't eat much meat cause they don't like commercial meat practices, there's no proper hot water - to have a shower you ask two hours in advance so they can turn the boiler on. Electric and water use is kept to a minimum, including the shower. The kitchen sink has no cold water as such, you use the adjacent bathroom, and the animals food buckets get mixed with water there, from the hot water tap, which is usually cold. 

Chickens wander in and out of the kitchen, and the geese wander and mess right outside the backdoor, which gets carried in. Floors are also all covered in mud and the only rooms you remove your shoes and wellys are the lounge and bedrooms. Only the lounge and their bedroom have heating, which doesn't get turned on much, and my bedroom was therefore pretty cold. They collect the waste water from the washing machine in a container, then carry with a bucket to flush the toilet. 

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It's OK to sit in the lounge in the daytime but not the evening. You can only use the Wifi in the evening. You can only use plates and food from certain cupboards. They only cook for you once a day, and you make your own eve meal from a handful of ingredients. The food is as basic as can be and prepared on dirty surfaces with food from a dirty cellar. 

Then there's outside which is totally inefficient. The horses don't eat from a feeder - you place planks of wood around a round bale tied in with ratchet straps which need to be tightened every day. The horse fences need to be checked every day as they sometimes break. The animals water comes from a well into a dustbin - the pump is carried out and plugged in each time - you then fill the horse and geese troughs using a watering can. The round hay bales for horses are stored behind a van that you have to push out the way, then back every time as it's got a flat battery. The wheelbarrow has a puncture and needs pumping up twice a day.

It's just a madhouse. 

I feel like a snob to criticise them, sympathise that they don't earn much which makes things hard, and respect the way they want to be self-sufficient which is honorable. They have a big task to renovate the place and few resources to hand. But you also need to clean, live healthily and have some degree of comfort, and that should come before everything else. Basically here it's camping, but in a house.

Everyone is different, you have to respect that. It's interesting to see it, but you don't have to embrace it. So I escaped. 

The kitchen at Hippie hell

Day by day...

 

Monday
Christer kindly drops me at the ferry in Trellaborg, Sweden and I have a smooth crossing to Sassnitz, Germany. I get a train 3 hrs south and 'Helga' lets call her, picks me up from the station - her friend drives as her car has broken down. I'm given a tour of the place. A few small sausages, spaghetti salad, bread and half a potato for tea. 

I meet Niv, a 27 year old Israely guy also staying there. He's a top bloke and is my allie through this experience. He hates it is well but is both more tolerant than me, and broke so can't leave until his flight home. 

Tuesday
Everyone gets up late so can't start work til 10am. Collect and chop wood, peel windfall peaches for freezing. Scrape flaking old paint off ceilings and walls in the cellar (aka the fridge), with just a couple of dust sheets covering all the fresh food. Hmmm.

After work, borrow a bike to explore. Buy loads of junk food from a supermarket as an antidote for the frugal blandness we're given at the house. 

Get home and 'Franz', lets call him, directs anger towards me that a horse is missing and the geese have no food. It's their animals and they've told me nothing about them. Very weird. I look outside anyway and horses are there, and geese have food from earlier. Very weird. He later apologises and says it was a misunderstanding. 

Wednesday
9am people seem to roll out of bed. We finish cleaning out the cellar (aka fridge) - we remove three huge buckets of paint scrapings, dust, dirt and rubbish. From the area most of the food is stored I hasten to add. Wanting to do the job properly, I ask if we can mop the floor and she agrees. I joke the floor might go from brown dirt back to the actual red of the brick - 'don't worry too much about that' she says. Hmmmm.

PM - we knock down an internal wall in the barn, takings care not to damage the original mud bricks as he wants to reuse them. On a good note, with Franz being a carpenter it was interesting to watch him building a doorway with some of the huge timber beams in a traditional style. 

Borrowed a bike... not allowed to use his one now, have to use an old 80's road bike stuck in one gear. Nice ride to the Elbe river - the former border between East and West Germany and see a sign marking this. On the journey I decide that's it, I have to get out of this place. I agreed to stay a week, but two days is too long. 

Niv and I cook eggs on toast again - the only proper ingredients available. I'm then determined to plan my exit.  Except the Internet isn't working. 

Thursday
Awake at 7. Get the Internet working and try to work out where to go, and how to go. Trying to do all this on my tiny phone screen drives me mad. Eventually at 11, I hand them a bottle of wine, say thanks but this isn't for me, and walk. It's a four mile walk to the train station with my rucksack, but she wasn't offering a lift, and just imagine the tension sitting beside her if she did! 

It was sunny, though cool and the walk was good. Cleared my mind, gave me a plan for the next step, and tested my walking shoes and rucksack which are ace. Get on the next train heading for Frankfurt - financial centre of Europe and a total contrast to hippie hell.

Krageholm Farm: Part II

Krageholm, Sweden

'So you're basically having a holiday from a holiday' the guy at the hostel in Gothenburg said as I left, when I told him I was off to stay on a farm for a week with some friends. He was not far off.

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My return to Krageholm Farm started with a train inspector telling me I should have bought an extra ticket for my bike, and would now have to pay a fine on top. Fortunately he never bothered to come back to me to do so. Once at Ystad station, Christer kindly picked me up for my second stay with the Pålssons - friends made 30 years ago through a Young Farmers exchange with my Dad.

Krageholm Mansion - right next door

This time things were a lot quieter, with Hedda, Astrid and Frenchman Constant all away in different places, so it was just Christer, Ingeborg and I. And quieter as well in terms if what I've been upto. Sometimes it's good to slow down for a few days when travelling to recharge, catch up on things and plan the next bit.

Because of that I'll spare you the diary this time and pick out a few things. Starting with Ikea - before I left home I found there was an Ikea museum, so the first Saturday Ingeborg drove us up to Almhult - home of Ikea - to have a look around. The museum had typical Ikea living room setups from the 50's to now, and also showed how Ingvar Kamprad went from a boy selling matches to at one point the 4th richest man in the world. Amazing. Naturally this was followed by a trip to the hometown store, and the Ikea restaurant for lunch.

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Christer manages Krageholm which has about 2000 acres of arable crops, forestry, a mansion complete with moat and a few properties. He's kindly taken me out a few times whilst he runs errands in the truck, whilst diverting to see a few local sights on the way. One day we went to a neighbours to drop off some parts, then another estate to see their mansion, straw burning heating system and to meet the owner in the orchard he was establishing. After, a tour of a rapeseed oil factory, a drive through an agricultural college and a walk inside an old windmill. Quite a day.

Another day we went to a free BBQ at a tool hire place, a look round the local builders stores and farm stores, then gave me a walking tour round the outside of Krageholm Mansion, maze, old laundry room and stables. Thanks to the local Swedish newspapers that I was in for the bike ride a few weeks back, three people that day knew who I was before I knew them; it's not often that happens abroad!

Unfortunately I found myself glued to the computer too much for a few days, I say unfortunately as I often get that feeling I should be outside doing something more interesting when I'm in another country. But, it was self enforced as I needed to get a load of things sorted for my trip to Germany, back up and upload photos, update the website etc etc. I also decided to put together a video of my bike ride which you might have seen (YouTube link to the right if not). I quite enjoy a bit of movie production in my spare time you know. It's probably that need to be productive in some way when travelling.

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As the weather's been good, though cooler, I've been out on the bike quite a few days and put in 150 or so miles - you can see the rides in a box to the right side of this page. The area around Ystad is great to cycle with quiet, flat roads and nice scenery, though you do occasionally get caught out when the tarmac road turns to gravel, not so good on a road bike. 

I've enjoyed chatting to Christer over lunch every day - he's the best farmer-cook I know, and usually comes up trumps with simple wholesome food, along with a good story from the papers or farm in his dry humourous manner. Equally Ingeborg is lovely to chat to, and full of tales every evening about the special school where she teaches, family or Sweden in general, and cooks a fine meal.

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The family have a big screen protector and a good movie collection so I've managed most nights to expand my limited movie history a bit - with Apocalypse Now, Forrest Gump, Once Upon a Time in Mexico, The Bourne Supremacy, The Constant Gardener and a bit of James Bond - Dr No.

I've done a few jobs round the house as well - a day of apple picking, a bit of lawnmowing, some cleaning and cutting back some weeds. Not nearly enough to justify everything the Pålssons have done for me, so will just have to reciprocate the fantastic hospitality one day. Thank you C & I!

Photos from my stay at the farm - HERE

And also from my day trip to Norway a few weeks ago - HERE

The Pålsson's have a very British driveway

C&I at home

President Obama visits Sweden

Stockholm, Sweden

This is old news really, I'm a week behind but just about worth telling I suppose... seeing that I managed to see President Barack Obama during his visit to Sweden last week!

When I first arrived in the country a few weeks back they announced the big man was paying the country a visit, and I thought what a great experience it would be to see the circus that surrounds him. Luckily everything fell into place on the 4th September.

I arrived in Stockholm at 6.30 am, having taken the sleeper train from far up north. I'd had a good bunch in the sleeper cabin, and got on well with this Swedish chap who was dishing out vodka. Once in Stockholm I took a local train down to my home for a few days - the flat of Carl Pålsson - son of our family friends who I'd stayed with down south. After unpacking my bike and a bit of brecky, I found out the President's rough itinerary and cycled the 11m journey into the city, ready for some President stalking. 

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Near the centre, suddenly there were Police, a lot of Police. The road in front was blocked with cars and concrete barriers, and lined with Police tape and crowds of people. In fact they'd sealed off the whole motorway from the airport, as well as a wide perimeter around the hotel he was staying in, and the government buildings where talks were to be held.

After a while Police helicopters came overhead, and suddenly a huge procession of vehicles arrives. 'There he is' people shout as the big limousine comes past - car actually travels in the hold of the plane with him! I got plenty of photos, but couldn't make him out sadly. Unsatisfied, I nipped off and got some lunch, then found a place by the route to his next meeting. And this time, I saw Barack clearly clear as day.

After a look around the city centre, Carl arrived on the train, and before we went for a pint there was one more opportunity for a glimpse at the Pres. This was hardcore stalking! We were stood in a crowd, and the person by me had the press conference live on his phone which we all watched. It ended, and there was a huge bustle of people leave the foreign office building a few hundred metres in front. My camera caught Barack, but my eyes just saw a blur. The same view as most people I expect.

Åre bike park and Ostersund

Ostersund, Sweden

Imagine eating with your knife and fork in the opposite hands. Or driving a car with the accelerator and brake pedals swapped. How about riding a bike with the brake levers on opposite sides, down a mountain... Welcome to my world last Tuesday!

I was at Åre bike park, situated on the mountain that is Sweden's main ski resort in winter, but in summer, one of the best places in the world to do downhill mountainbiking. This entails spending the day going up to the top on cablecars and chairlifts, then riding back down the 800m vertical descent. Again, and again. It's a place I'd wanted to come since 1999, when I read all about the world championships that were held there and thought how great it sounded. I wasn't disappointed. 

I got to the bike hire shop bright and early just as it opened, and took a full-suspension Scott Gambler out for the day. I noticed straight away the brake levers were on the opposite sides (as they are across Europe) and mentioned it to the girl who just shrugged. I decided it couldn't be too hard to get used to so took it up the mountain and went for it, straight down a black run. I coped OK, but felt slow, as if I hadn't ridden for years. Second time down I had a couple of crashes, having braked hard into a corner with what turned out to be the wrong brake, and got buckarood off down into the undergrowth! I went back to the shop and they swapped them after that.

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I managed to get in about ten runs over the day, each up to half an hour / five miles long - about ten times longer than courses back home, and was flying by the end of the day - though the bike got me out of all sorts of trouble. It was a fantastic day, a highlight of the trip so far.

Backtracking a bit to Sunday - I left the Rolander family and cycled 11m to the nearest train station, loaded up like a mule with pannier bags, rucksack and a big cardboard box. What a plonker I must have looked! I was due to catch the Inlands Baden train right up north, a tourist train that stops at all the nice places along the way. But as there's a daft rule not allowing you to take bikes on trains in Sweden, and I was running a bit late and didn't have time to box it up (the getaround), they refused to let me on. Worst of all it was the last train of the summer! With the bike boxed up, four hours later I sneaked it onto the regular train and eventually got to Ostersund, bang in the middle of Sweden.

On Monday, with little to see in Ostersund itself,  I cycled round nearby Lake Storsjon; this seems to be a recurring theme in Sweden! Nice enough, but not the best ride I've done - too much forest and not enough lake in view, and at 84 miles a bit too far for a leisurely ride.

Wednesday felt like a bit of a wasted day, researching and planning the next leg of the trip whilst waiting for a night train up north, but these things need to be done. And so to now... I'm writing this on the train, and the arctic circle is looming! 

Åre bike park

Old steel / new steel

Falun, Sweden with the Rolander family

This update comes to you from a hammock, on a warm summer's afternoon, in a garden in the forested Swedish countryside. Sorry to brag, just setting the scene! It's been sunny and about 19º all week, so pretty ideal really.

With the Rolanders, the unwritten agreement is that I do a few hours work each day in return for bed and food. Therefore this week has been the closest to real life of my trip - a mixture of doing odd jobs in the house and workshop, cycling every day and chatting. 

Mon
Nic and Maria were out for a while so I found myself babysitting, or more specifically, sitting in the garden reading. I then went on a road ride, which after a short while turned into an off-road ride - rural roads are often not tarmacked in Sweden which isn't good at all on a lightweight road bike with hard skinny tyres and no grip, but no harm done thankfully. 

Astrid (Nic and Maria's niece) and Winnie (their daughter) then took me a couple of miles up a track into the forest to swim in the local lake. Bit murky but not too cold, with completely idyllic scenery.

After tea, Nic and Maria and I spent hours talking about their businesses, the world, travelling, technology, design and nearly everything else. Can't beat a good yarn.

Tues
Took down some old florescent lights then refitted with Nic them in his workshop. In the afternoon I cycled round Runn lake, the second biggest in the region. The scenery was absolutely stunning - both the lake and the small villages around it. One of the nicest rides I've ever done; I got drunk on my own excitement alone that day!

Weds
Started with old steel; working on Nic's old Range Rover, grinding off rust and stripping down parts.

Then later it was all about new steel. At the crayfish party last week I met a guy called Stefan who is a manager at the Swedish Steel mill nearby in Borlange. As I've worked with sheet metal for a few years, in the week I had a thought - I wonder if I could get a tour? Nic made the call for me, and so on Wednesday, I found myself in a enormous factory complex, being taken on a two-hour, one-on-one tour of SSAB steel, producers of some of the highest grade steel in the world.

They basically take 30 tonne blocks of steel that arrive by train, and process them into rolls of thin high grade sheet. Five kg of every Ferrari, Mercedes and Volkswagen body comes out of their factory. Needless to say I was fascinated and felt pretty lucky to have visited. When I thanked him for his time, Stefan said 'that's fine, you're a potential customer'! 

Thurs
Another day working on the Range Rover, grinding, painting and replacing parts. De-stressed afterwards (joke) with a fast 13 mile ride down to nearby Falun town and back. Admired the huge local ski jump setup as I went, passing other locals out training on rollerblades with ski poles - their training for cross country skiing. 

Fri
Nic and Maria had both suggested cycling around Siljan; the biggest lake in the area (of which you may have gathered, there are many), so I took a bus to Rättvik and went for it. Most of what I saw was actually forest, but sometimes glimpses of something - the lake - is more exciting than seeing the same sight all day. 

Sat
Just like a normal Saturday at home. Trip into Falun town to run errands, mow the lawn, do washing, set up a projector for Winnie's birthday party later, fix various bikes, read in the garden.

I've really enjoyed my week here, seeing typical Swedish family life and doing normal sorts of things, just in a different place. The Rolander family have been great fun, thanks for your hospitality guys! Heading north tomorrow. 

Siljan Lake