Matt and Beth's World Tour

Costa Rica - The Rich Coast

2009-03-01T16:51:00.022Z

The drive into San Jose from the international airport is not that impressive. You enter a city that doesn't have much in the way of aesthetically pleasing buildings - the main reason given seems to be the fact that Costa Rica has so many earthquakes and, hence, buildings don't stand up that long. Certainly, three weeks before we arrived there was a sizeable earthquake, the epicenter of which was not that far from San Jose. But just blaming the bad architecture on earthquakes seems a bit unfair on seismic activity. Still, the accommodation we enjoyed in San Jose was pretty good, even having a colonial feel to the architecture.

So it wasn't long before Beth and I, with our trusted Spanish phrase book (alright for Spain but not ideal for Latin America), managed to organise a bus down to Samara, our home for just about two weeks. The change in scenery within ten miles was fantastic. Suddenly we could see hills, volcanoes and rivers and the views just got better as we headed across the Gulf of Nicoya. Here, large crocodiles bask in the hot sunshine on the sand banks that emerge during low tide. On sped our bus, along narrow country lanes, the heat outside becoming more intense in our non air-conditioned bus. But the journey was worth it.

Samara is a village / small town that lazily spreads along the length of the golden beach that is blessed with gentle seas and palm trees along it's length. A large reef, about half a mile out to sea, provides the crash barrier for the formidable Pacific swell that can cause waves in excess of 8' to come crashing down onto beaches just around the corner. This reef also affords protection at low tide for those interested in snorkeling with the local marine life. The great thing is the water is so warm that you don't need wetsuits. Coming from Cornwall, where the sea at best feels like you've just stepped into a large carton of Mr Whippy's Cornish Ice Cream, I was surprised it felt too hot to swim at times. Unbelievable I know!

Samara has a very laid back vibe which is infectious. It wasn't long before we found ourselves getting into a punishing routine of trotting down to the beach after breakfast (a very nice breakfast I must add), reading books, going swimming in the sea or maybe surfing (yours truly), followed by a walk round to the local bakers for freshly baked cinnamon rolls and gorgeous bread for lunch, back to the beach for a spot more reading and relaxing and perhaps another swim, and finally ending the day with a fabulous meal before crashing out after another hectic day on the Pacific Coast.

We endured this hardship for nearly two whole weeks before we hired some bikes and cycled all seven kilometers to Playa Carrillo, an idyllic half moon bay of almost white sand, a contender for the most beautiful beach in Costa Rica.
On our route to the beach we passed lazy iguanas enjoying the morning sunshine, their spikey dinosaur backs and heads standing out in sharp contrast against the tarmac road. Playa Carrillo stands in isolation, even further away from tourists than Samara. Big palm trees grow closely together along the length of the beach, standing to attention, guarding the golden sands and the oh so blue water gently makes its daily run onto the shore. It's the kind of place where you lose track of time, the only things that seem to matter are simply just being. That and, before getting too philosophical, the need to sprint as fast as you could when you forgot to take your sandals with you to the edge of the water to avoid getting burned feet from the superheated golden sand. Needless to say the day went by far too quickly. We reluctantly left the beach in the pleasantly warm dusk, our footprints the only sign we had ever been there....more passing visitors the beach soon forgets as the tide soothes the scorching sand - a beach we won't forget.

A day or so later, who can remember when time is suspended?, and we made our way from the coast into the hills. Monteverde and Santa Elena are famous for their cloud forests, that's a rain forest but so high up that it's always in cloud. We only had a few days here, taking in the sights and sounds of the forests, watching the precision flying of the Hummingbird, the scuttle of a huge millipede, the swinging of a branch as a monkey disappeared from view, a glimpse of a toucan as its startling colours blurred in flight. We almost saw the famed Volcan Arenal, but every time we tried to catch a glimpse the volcano seemed to cloak itself in cloud and hide from view. Still, the base of Arenal looked a bit like a Welsh mountain......!

A final dash to San Jose and we were off once again, taken from the cocoon of the Rich Coast and back to the world beyond....

The Amazon Jungle

2009-02-20T17:21:00.007Z

The sleeping giant awoke. For over eighty years things had been quiet and the sleepy village of Baños had continued undisturbed. Baños, meaning baths in Spanish, is nestled is a picturesque location on the descent from the highlands of Ecuador to the jungle in the east of the country. The village gets its name from a number of naturally hot water springs which have been captured to create hot baths in which to relax. But in 1999, on the upper slopes of Volcán Tungurahua, things were far from quiet and sleepy. So much so that 25,000 people were evacuated from the area. It seemed the giant volcano, at 16,479’ (5023m), was living up to its Quichua name – ‘throat of fire’. Amazingly, Volcán Tungurahua has been continually active from that time and continues to be so today, banks of ash and steam clouds being forced up and spewed into the atmosphere.

Baños is like a gateway to the lower and more tropical area of Ecuador that we visited next. It was nice to descend from the air thinned 10000’ to something more sensible, like 3000’. It was certainly a lot warmer – and wetter. The bus journey from Quito was just over five hours with stunning views across the jungle, that would be the Amazon jungle, as we descended past Baños and through a number of very small villages, some no bigger than a few rickety looking houses. Plunging waterfalls cascade down the side of the volcanoes and high ground, landslides occasionally meet the tarmac, as the road snakes its way along the Puyo River. Our final destination was a town called Shell.

You might think this sounds a very non-Ecuadorian name for a town. And you would be right. The town gets its name from the Royal Dutch Shell Company, who in 1937 we carrying out investigative works prospecting for oil. The then village of Shell comprised a number of shacks and a servicing airstrip. However, work in the region did not last that long, not necessarily because of the lack of oil, but because of the concerns for safety. The Indians of the jungle were known to be hostile to any outsiders – this was evidenced by a number of employees being killed. This was clearly a dangerous area to be. So in 1948 Shell, the company, left the area.

Around the next year, an organisation called Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF) occupied Shell. MAF are a Christian organisation who seek to care for people both physically and spiritually, in areas of great human need and where being able to fly acts as a lifeline. In the remote jungles of Ecuador, if you are bitten by snake, MAF might just be your only chance of survival.

But being in Shell was quite an emotional experience too. And here is the story why.
In January 1956, one of the pilots for MAF, Nate Saint, who flew a Piper like the one shown in the photograph (located in the centre of Shell), together with four other men were speared to death by the feared Waorani tribe. The men had spent some months trying to initiate contact with these people who lived deep within the jungle, and were keen to share the good news of the Gospel with these tribes people. The news of the deaths of the five men made worldwide headlines – it all seemed to be for nothing. Yet what the men never knew was that through their deaths a door of opportunity opened for a sister of Nate Saint, and the wife of Jim Elliot (one of the other men killed) to return to the Waorani tribe and to share the Gospel. And this in turn, had dramatic results. Increasingly, the Waorani people had become embittered with revenge killings. Anger, immense anger at that it seems, was enough to justify killing someone. Virtually everyone in this tribe knew a member of their close family who had been murdered. In fact you were old aged if you made it to your thirties. The cycle of killing had become worse and worse to such an extent that the tribe was in jeopardy of simply destroying itself. It was around this very time that the five men were speared to death as they sought to share the Gospel – and yet what is most wonderful and amazing is that the very people who acted in this way have been utterly transformed by God’s grace. The killings have ceased and the tribe now wants to ‘walk God’s trail’. The very men who killed have become leaders in the church in the jungle and deep and lasting friendships have been forged between those who once killed and the families of those who were killed. And here we were in Shell, at the very house where these men left, never to return. It is a truly amazing story of God’s rich mercy, forgiveness and grace which overflowed from the families left behind and brought about a wonderful transformation. A quote from Jim Elliot, for me, summarises so much of what these men stood for:

“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

I was quite excited to have a look at some of the aircraft MAF has. Although we didn’t quite have a chance to fly over the jungle, we were gives a tour around the planes. How the pilots manage to land these things on remote jungle airstrips barely wide enough for the aircraft is beyond me. You must need some amount of craziness!!

Shell is much bigger today, with a whole town built to the one side of the airstrip, but it is still relatively small. Even so, the very real everyday needs of people are very apparent. We were privileged to help at an orphanage for a day, seeing children with physical and mental disabilities being shown care and love. The little girl here is called Grace. The older children have their own little classrooms whilst the younger babies and toddlers are cared for by other volunteers. Some of these children come from families where the parents are still alive but at the current time were unable to cope with the child. So with the possibility that these children may return to their families at a later date, things in the orphanage are kept as simple as possible – which can be a shock. But that is how people live.

One of the days we went into the jungle in an area called Hola Vida (literally being translated Hello Life). We walked in to see a waterfall and plunge pool where you can go swimming. On the way in we spotted leaf cutter ants (some up to an inch or so in length), tarantulas (look for the spot in the photo!) and even walking trees. The waterfall itself was very refreshing after the muggy walk in, the only downside being I felt I needed to look over my shoulder the whole time just in case some other animal decided to join me swimming around the plunge pool. Thankfully, I didn’t look that interesting to eat, except maybe to a few bugs. The force of the water falling from 80’ or so onto your back as you swim underneath the falls was pretty impressive, a little too strong for that massaging feel – unless of course you can hold your breathe for a few minutes and enjoy the experience 3’ underwater.
One of the best views we had of the jungle was from a balcony near Pomona where you can see the confluence of the Pastaza and Puyo Rivers. When we looked across these rivers there were many sand and gravel banks, clearly the river was in low flow. But every 10 years or so there are massive storms dumping rain on the hills, causing these rivers to swell to destructive proportions. You wouldn’t want to be around the river then!
From here the rivers flow on in a generally eastward direction, joining the Amazon on its major trek across this amazing continent.

We really enjoyed the variety and the beauty of Ecuador. It is an amazing country. To all those who made our time there so special we’d like to say ‘muchas gracias!’

The Highlands of Ecuador

2009-02-04T15:59:00.009Z

It starts with shortness of breath. Even when lying down to sleep you can wake suddenly gasping for air. Always breathing but never seemingly getting enough air in the lungs. Then you can´t sleep, you may get headaches, you may feel or even be sick, feel lightheaded and generally very lethargic. Thirsts don´t seem to be quenched. Welcome to life above 10000´for the likes of low altitude folks. In reality, it only became as bad as all that on two occasions when Beth and I were considerably higher than 10000´.

A good part of our time in Ecuador was spend in Quito, the capital, nestled between the twin ranges that form a part of the Andes; Volcán Pichincha the most dominant. The flight in is spectacular as you cruise in over snow capped volcanoes then bank very sharply over the capital as the aircraft makes its final steep approach skimming over one of the city´s residential areas to make a touchdown just as you think you´re about to land in someones back yard. The runway here is half as much again as a standard runway, giving the planes a chance to take off at this altitude!

We were visiting Ecuador to see something of the work undertaken by HCJB, a Christian organisation that has been in Ecuador since 1931, providing radio coverage worldwide, healthcare and furthering community development. We were with a family from the UK who are working within the community development sector, particularly concentrating on providing clean drinking water to rural communitites. El Corazon and Carabuela are two villages where HCJB are involved in water projects and we were able to see firsthand some of the conditions these guys have to work in. I started the blog talking about altitude sickness. That´s just the start! The weather in these mountainous regions can be very fickle, as you can imagine. Sunny mornings can give way to massive thunderstorms very quickly. Getting equipment and personnel to some of these remote areas has its own challenges and often there are no real roads. The teams working on these projects have a very simple existence, sleeping perhaps on a concrete floor if things are good, and cooking very simply. Yet despite the harsh conditions, we met many warm hearted village people, so glad to be able to help.

At El Corazon, about an hours drive south of Quito, we drove as far as we could up Volcán Corazon, getting stuck in deep mud for a couple of hours, before walking the final 1000´ ascent to springs, high up in the mountain. The village had not had consistent clean water for over two months. There were some rudimentary plastic pipes laid to direct spring water to the village which the villagers had previously installed. But these had become heavily silted and were ineffective. You begin to realise the enormity of the task in getting clean water to just this one village. And there are many more villages like this one where clean water is something not taken for granted.

We did, of course, have some time to explore something of these highlands. Ecuador in Spanish means ´Equator´ and about twenty minutes to the north there is a big red line that marks the northern and southern hemispheres. Beth being a Yorkshire lass thought she was duty bound to represent the northern hemisphere whilst being a Cornish lad thought I´d represent the south in our touristy photo! (Due to technical difficulties this photo will be appearing once I get this painfully slow computer to start working properly and stop eating my Colones!)

One of the local dishes here is roasted Guinea Pig. No it doesn´t taste quite like chicken, a bit more fatty, but we still finished off the little rodent. And people have these little things as pets?

We also had the opportunity to climb Volcán Antisana, the fourth highest volcano in Ecuador at 18871´. Given the equitorial bulge of approximately 14000´, you´re actually closer to the sun on top of one of these mighty peaks here in Ecuador than you are on Everest! We made base camp at 15800´ within sight of the first glacier. It was a beautiful clear afternoon as we prepared for a midnight ascent on the mountain. But altitude took its toll. By the time midnight came round visibility was poor and getting worse and we weren´t feeling great. Some others went on but we tried to get some sleep, a difficult thing when you feel you are running out of air.

Below are some photographs of a visit to Laguna Cuicocha, a high altitude lake that has formed in a crater on Volcán Cotacatchi and also the magnificent Laguna Quilotoa, a similar natural phenomenom adjacent to the village of Quilotoa, the latter photographed at dusk with only enough light. As it started to get dark it also became very cold and we all sat around this nice warming stove.

Stateside

2009-01-16T14:02:00.010Z

It was my first white Christmas - that I can remember anyhow. Beth and I spent a fantastic Christmas with family in Laramie enjoying the delights of a Christmas in the U.S of A. It is probably fair to say that we were spoilt, but after the last few months of travelling we were more than ready to stop and be looked after. So Auntie Margaret, Uncle Mel, Ian, Lisa and the triplets together with Eric and Lindsey - thank you all SO much!

Although we were looked after, this didn't mean that we just sat around. Our first suprise came on Christmas Day in the form of hand warmers, feet warmers and toe warmers together with a little slip of paper which gained us access to numerous ski lifts across the vast Winter Park - a world class skiing area in the Rockies. A few days later, donned in various layers of warm clothing, and armed with our snowboards, we headed out into the hills (if British read: mountains - as we were at 10000') to carve up some powder. I'm not sure if we carved powder or whether the mountain carved us. Both Beth and I managed to do the occasional full flip, notching a few g-forces on the way as the downhill edge of our snowboard cut into the snow. There was no warning - just the thud as you hit the deck and the slight whiplash that made you feel like you had been in a mosh pit for a week or so. But snowboarding was such great fun and the scenery at Winter Park was so picturesque, trees loaded down with snow and occasioanlly outstanding views of the rest of the Rockies.

Not content to treat us to one snow based activity, we headed across to the Snowy Range, to try our hand at snowmobiling. I'm not sure how you describe sitting on 150bhp of raw power whilst skimming over 3' powder across an alpine meadow doing 60mph holding onto the handgrips for all you're worth - adrenalin pumping to say the least. These machines can easily get you to speeds of over 120mph - very very quickly. Our guide through the maze of snow capped mountains, deep forests with trees heavily laden with snow and across frozen lakes was one of the photo shoot riders for Yamaha, a rancher by the name of Chad, who was particularly quick through the woods and could turn one of these machines on a dime, akin to cutting back when surfing. Chad thought it would be good fun to take us tandem on his supercharged snow mobile and blast up a huge hill, normally a good hour or so walk over boulders in the summer but only seconds over deep snow on a snowmobile! Our hats go off to Auntie Margaret who clung on and not only made the quickest ascent of the massive hill but also popped over the lip and caught some air! We covered over 70 miles in one day even stopping for a sizeable lunch in a refuge in the snowed in hills.

Not far from the snowmobiling is another ski area in the Snowies where Aunite Margeret patiently taught us the skills of skiing. One classic memory is of one section of downhill slope where I was carefully practising my turns. I was just beginning to feel I was making some progress when I heard someone shout at me and so instinctively got out of the way. Who should come by but Beth, flying down the slope like she had waxed her skiis, tearing into the corners and disappearing out of view, the light settling of carved snow the only indication that she had passed that way. Eventaully I caught up with her, swallowed my pride, and congratulated her on an outstanding performance. It was only then she told me that when I had heard someone shout, and courteously got out of the way, Beth was in fact out of control and figured the best option was just to point and shoot straight down the mountain as any sharp turns would have meant painfully hugging a tree. I was still impressed!

But it was not just out on the slopes where we were introduced to new things. American football, once shrouded in mystery, has now become an exciting spectator sport. I still can't work out why it is called football when virtually everyone uses their hands - but there are some things that are just..well..American. Take eating. We're used, in the UK, to have a savoury main course followed by either a sweet dessert or a cheese board. But we were introduced to new combinations like chilli with jell-o (if British read: jelly). The jell-o is used to cool the mouth rather than for the flavour. I also finally had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (if British read: peanut butter and jam sandwich). But when it comes to doughnuts, burgers, cinamon roles and the like, our cousins across the pond definitely have the upper hand. Very tasty indeed.

Too soon our time in the States came to an end and we were packing once more, heading to warmer climes in the mountains of Ecuador.

Picturesque New Zealand

2009-01-07T19:01:00.011Z

We couldn't leave the blog of New Zealand without a few more pictures of our adventures...

1. Doubtless Bay
2. Uretiti Beach looking out to Taranga Island
3. Picnic Thanksgiving meal with Alan, Sarah and friends
4. Cathedral Cove
5. Doris getting friendly with the locals!
6. Wenderholm Regional Park
7. McLean Falls
8. Arthur's Pass
9. Kauri tree - Te Matua Ngahere (Father of the Forest) the second largest tree in NZ!
10. Beth learning to surf!
11. Matt cooking outside the campervan
12. Beth's 30th birthday meal at Long Beach, Russel in the Bay of Islands!
13. & 14. Mouraki Boulders

Naturally New Zealand

2009-01-07T15:48:00.012Z

Some of the best experiences we had in New Zealand were encounters with nature. Some of them closer than others.

For example, the humble sandfly may be low on the food chain but when it comes at you, you might want to get out of the way - you're lunch. And when it bites you know about it. All those precautionary injections were good practice for these flying needles. Our rabies injection was nothing! Unlike mosquitoes, you generally don't hear the sandfly approach, so the first thing you know about it is a sharp stinging sensation followed by a heavily laden black object disappearing out of view. Nasty suckers.

So what can be done to help poor humanity in its fight against the relentless attacks of the sandfly? One option is N,N-diethyl-meta-toluamide, that's DEET to me and you. Designed to keep the bugs at bay it also has enough nasty ingredients to make you more likely to have "insomnia, mood swings and impaired cognitive function" when used extensively, according to Correll University. The thought of a sandfly with insomnia, mood swings and impaired cognitive functions is a little disturbing to say the least - things are looking bad for humanity. It's only when you apply the DEET that you realise its ferocious power. If you look closely you'll see a haze coming off your skin. That's right, you're flammable, and the bugs just get frazzled in the haze. Pure genius. Just keep away from fires for the next 4 hours after application.

Thankfully there were far more pleasant and wonderful experiences other than the dreaded sandfly. The following day after Beth's big 'three-o' celebrations we were sailing once more, out in the Bay of Islands. Aboard Gungha II, a 65' go-fast maxi ocean sailing yacht, captained by the excellent Mike, who had ditched law to sail the oceans of the world. We sailed from Paihai on the east coast, past millionaire superyachts and out across Wairoa Bay to Moturoahia Island. Suddenly there were shrieks from the bow as someone on board had seen dolphins riding the bow wave. Needless to say we all rushed forwards and there they were, a pod of about six young males, performing underwater acrobats and showing off their skills, even jumping clear out of the water. These dolphins are found only within the Bay of Islands and its environs and are one of the biggest bottle nose dolphins in the world. At times, the usual white underside of the dolphin becomes red as the blood vessels near the surface are flushed through, allowing the dolphin to cool off. And judging by the way these dolphins were jumping around I'd say they needed to cool off! Later we anchored in a small bay at Moturohia Island and as we came ashore in our little dinghy, the dolphins suprised us again with a stunning show, within 10' at times. It made up for the one day of mixed weather!

On the theme of dolphins we met another New Zealand only dolphin, the Hector dolphin, one of the rarest and smallest dolphins in the world. What was especially exciting was the fact we were surfing at the time in a small bay, Curio Bay, one of the most southern points on South Island. With nothing between us and Antarctica we paddled out early one morning to catch some waves. It is so incredible, quietly paddling out, as dolphins surge past you as 'surf' within the waves, catching their food. Although I didn't managed to surf with them, the dolphins came within a few feet of both Beth and me. A magical experience!

In the same area are the equally rare yellow eyed penguins. These little dudes hang out at the beach in the evenings after they have been fishing all day. If you wait quietly at the top of the beach you will see these birds riding in on the small surf and then hopping from rock to rock as they get out of the water. A few shakes later, a quick check that the tail feathers are still looking good and then the prolonged voice identification process with the mate, who is carefully hidden away in the scrub at the top of the beach. We were fortunate to have a penguin hop very close to us on his hike up to the scrub.

Alpacas may not sound an exciting animal to meet, but with names like Whisky, Donald and Lady Di and their huge big eyes, they're actually quite a characterful bunch. At All Day Bay, a neat name considering it does remain a bay all day, we met the alpacas. I couldn't see how these overgrown sheep/camel hybrids had ever managed to survive so long - surely without mans' help these animals would have been lunch and extinct years ago. That's where I was wrong. These split lip toothless wonders (well on the upper jaw anyhow) are actually used in the States to corral cattle - unbelievable when you look at these dozy creatures. Those big eyes capture any movement and the whole herd of alpacas stops and stares. If it's looking like a dangerous situation, the alpacas move in. And what do these woolly airheads do to ward off wolves and the like? They sit. To be precise they sit on the wolves. That's right folks, the wolf has had it, smothered in luxury wooled bottoms without a hope. Apparently these gentle alpacas had done this trick on a golden retriever - it's never been the same following its ordeal.

If you see a bunch of alpacas heading your way with a look of intent in those oh so big eyes, my advice is to dig deep and pull out a few straw pellets from your pocket and give them a feed. They love it. Alternatively, and this sounds equally as nuts, start humming. Not only do alpacas make good wool they're also musical. If you start humming they gather round and start humming too. In fact, they get lost in their little hum-world, staring up into the sky for hours just humming away. This dude is Donald.

But you cannot blog about New Zealand without a least some mention of the stunning scenery. As soon as you leave any of the cities you are in the most wonderful scenery imaginable; pretty much anywhere you go. We stopped at Abel Tasman National Park, graceful mountains clothed in rich forests. There are very few, and sometimes no roads in this beautiful park. To gain access you either walk in, get a water taxi round or sea kayak. We did the later starting at Marahau and paddled the coastline, exploring hidden caves and coves, discovering beautiful isolated beaches and venturing across open sea to islands with seal colonies, red eyed oyster catchers and even the rare New Zealand dotterel. I even managed an afternoon's mountain biking through the forests, realising quickly how unfit I was.

One of the most awe inspiring locations were the fjords in the south-west of South Island. Here the dramatic mountains plunge 700m below the surface of the fjords. Although incorrectly named a 'Sound' (a 'sound' being a flooded valley formed by a river whilst a fjord is a flooded valley formed by glacial action), Milford Sound has an atmosphere you don't get in many places. Gargantuan waterfalls plummet into the fjord at colosal rates, amazingly forming a freshwater layer over the sea water, anywhere between 2m and 16m deep depending on the weather. Trees and grasses somehow grow out of the fractured rock, their roots matted together to provide as much stability as possible, adjacent there may be massive scars formed on the rock where there has been a tree avalanche. It will take another seventy years for the trees to grow back. Seals bask on the rocks and below the surface black corral grows at a much shallower depth. All the tannins from organic matter washed into the fresh water means light does not penetrate to the depths normally expected. And so the black coral can grow at much shallower depths. The coral is in fact white whilst it is alive, but was found in deep sea fishing nets black in colour because it wasby that time dead - hence the name.

There are just too many places we visited, too many stories to tell of this beautiful land to be able to include it all in a blog. You'll just have to ask us when we get back....

Aotearoa - The Land of the Long White Cloud

2009-01-07T13:29:00.012Z

Ever since I was young lad I dreamt of coming to New Zealand. It is one of those countries where I had heard of its unique beauty, amazing and sometimes curious wildlife; somewhere unspoilt and not wrecked by mans' negative influence. And what did I find? A country that not only lived up to its reputation, but far exceeded what I had dreamt.

The Maori name for New Zealand, Aotearoa, probably refers to the magnificent Southern Alps on the west coast of South Island. The snow is found along these majestic mountains throughout the year forming the 'Long White Cloud'. Apart from the obvious Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch and other major towns, the majority of town and place names are Maori - each one having a significant meaning. A place name was not simply given in any old fashion, it had to be passed and approved by the elders and chiefs!

New Zealand has a reputation for being green and eco-friendly and as you travel around the country you can see why. In one country there is virtually everything you can want; beautiful old sub-tropical forests, stunning coastline with vast tracts of golden sands (and hot black sands on the west coast), unspoilt and unpolluted lakes, gently rolling pasture lands, magnificent mountain ranges, fjordlands and wilderness areas as well as plenty of geothermal and volcanic excitement.

But when you look around in some of the bigger cities you realise something strange is also happening. Take your general everyday shopping for instance. There you are at the checkout, the assistant asking you if you are having a good day and being generally friendly and chatty. You purchases are scanned and as you look across to the packing area your eyes bulge as three or four items are dropped into a plastic bag and then another bag is plucked from the seemingly endless supply and a few more items are dropped in - and so the process continues. By the time you have a few pieces of fruit, a bit of cheese and maybe your favourite slab of steak you have three or four badly packed bags. Beth and I were astounded! But this is New Zealand - surely things like this are a thing of the past? Oh no they're not!
Or maybe take a look at what people are driving. Electro-petrol hybrids perhaps, or maybe hydrogen cars? Nope. We're talking here about thumping big pickups with lowered suspension, alloy wheels, metallic paint and a very impressive sounding engines. We're talking big RV's and it seems anything that doesn't have a particularly good mpg. Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh - it just didn't fit with the eco-world I was expecting. And recycling - just going!! Maybe the small population of 4 million in a country the size of the UK simply doesn't make so much of a dent.

Enter Alan, Beth's cousin and eco-warrior, together with girlfriend Sarah. These guys were our guides when we first arrived in Auckland. To get around they have a classic 1976 Datsun 100A, an absolute beauty, which if I'm honest, I'm a bit jealous of! This car has character! Although in New Zealand, Auckland is regarded as the stress pot and not a pleasant place to be, after our time in China, and having just left a city with five times the population of the whole of New Zealand, we were more than happy to wander the tree lined streets and enjoy the seemingly generous amount of greenery around the city. Here is a picture of Alan and Sarah with the backdrop of Auckland and Skytower. Directly behind them is the crater of an old volcano, this one is known as Mount Eden. As you scan the horizon from this viewpoint you'll see many more of these now grassed former volcanoes.

To kick start our time in Auckland, I had my belated birthday present, sailing an Americas Cup racing yacht NZL41, a 77' brute of a boat made entirely from carbon fibre. To make this monster move there are a variety of ridiculously large sails, we started with the mainsail and jib - a collosal 320 square meters. Just think about how much area that is!
To ensure you have at least a chance of not capsizing, a 20 tonne torpedo shaped ballast hangs from the hull attached by a worryingly thin fin! Just to give you a feel for the speed of this boat, we were heading out of the harbour towards Rangitoto Island lighthouse, close hauled in a 15 to 20 knot breeze, easily cruising at 12 knots and heeling at about 25 degrees! Awesome. Taking the helm of this Formula 1 boat was simply fantastic - pure adrenalin and delight. With the heel of the boat you are easily high enough to see the gusts coming, and when they do the battle is on. The bow swings ferociously windward and you have to wrestle the wheel to bring her round, all 2m of rudder in the water trying to direct this wild animal. Not content with the current sail set up, on our return into Auckland, up went the gennaker, another 220 square meters of sail - I've never been so fast in a sailing boat!

In the afternoon we picked up our home for two of the four weeks - a bright orange Toyota Lucida people carrier converted into a camper van, otherwise known as Alf. Although Alf is getting on a bit, the old lines betray a very neat interior which has a gas cooker, fridge, water tank and pump, double bed and - get this - a plasma DVD TV with FM surround sound meaning all six speakers in the camper blast out the DVD soundtrack. We tried not to use the DVD player too often - why would you in such an outstandingly beautiful country?

And so began our journey through New Zealand, one awesome landscape after another.....

Christmas Thoughts

2008-12-15T23:20:00.007Z

" The heavens declare the glory of God
the skies proclaim the work of His hands,
Day after day they pour forth speech,
night after night they display knowledge.
Their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the end of the world."
Psalm 19:1

I can only describe it as a jaw dropping, humbling, soul stiring display of stars so numerous and bright, that Beth and I were left in stunned silence. I have seen many stars on a clear night in North Wales, the Lake District and Scotland, often when wild camping with my friend Brett; sometimes even seeing the Milky Way. But the display we have seen here in a remote part of New Zealand, blessed with clear skies and no light pollution, has been truly extraordinary.
All I can say is that it is one amazing declaration of God's handiwork.
New Zealand is truly an amazing country. Here you have a diverse range of sub-tropical forests, beautiful golden or white beaches, majestic snow capped mountains, open plains, wild craggy coastline, unbelievably blue clear waters - no wonder the Kiwis call it the ''God Zone'' - though I think I'd call it God's own!
As I refect back over the last few months, thinking of what we have experienced and seen, I am reminded of the words of a song that puts it like this:

'This world is broken yet beautufully made' (Charlie Hall)

We have experienced the extremes of both of these, from the aching of the soul because of the extremity of immense poverty and death to the aching of the soul due to the sheer beauty of this world. Such a contrast. I have found there is no true comfort to be found in the former or deep satisfaction in the latter unless my soul finds its satisfaction in God.

And it seems most appropriate that I should be reminded so at this Christmas time. To all of you all over the world who have been following us on our journey, thank you for sticking with us, for the comments and e-mails - we really appreciate them.
May you have a wonderful Christmas and New Year, finding satisfaction in the God who has made 'God with us' a reality in Christ Jesus.

Beijing, Bicycles and Bird's Nest....

2008-11-22T03:23:00.015Z

Foreigners are fairly easy to spot. Just look out for the 'blonde' hair, the big noses and the windmilling arms (of the non-aggressive variety) as people gesticulate madly, frown with almost tangible pain in the effort to be understood. Even if you think you have the most basic grasp of Mandarin, you always get thrown by the tones. There are four in Mandarin, meaning a word that to our western ears sounds the same, can have four different meanings depending on the tone used. To the untrained ear and tongue it's really hard at times to make yourself understood. You might think you are saying, "Does that come with rice?" when in fact your probably sprouting some rubbish about how the clouds do maths bubbling chocolate. So the windmilling arms come in handy but at times it can be just plain frustrating.

For example, trying to find the bus that the guidebook recommends you take from the main western railway station in Beijing to the main central railway station. We found a police officer and started to wave our hands around and point and act out our best Thomas the Tank engine impression to try and show where we were trying to get to - you can imagine how difficult and exhausting this is whilst carrying your rucksack and hand luggage. You can probably imagine too how plain silly we looked! But even with the most serious concentration, willing with every fibre in your being that the the police officer has seen Thomas the Tank Engine and understands you actually want to go the another railway station by bus, there comes a time when you just have to stand back and laugh at yourself. It's good fun - just hard when the last thing you want is to be stranded at some railway station, miles from your accommodation. Although I'm pretty sure our policeman had never seen the famed Engine, he eventually did seem to get the gist of what we wanted and gave us, in return windmilling furrowed brow style, the exact directions to the bus we needed.

We settled into our youth hostel opposite the railway station - the main central railway station that is. And by the way, the bus that the guidebook recommends doesn't exist. Anyway, as I was saying, in our youth hostel, to our surprise, we found the heating was on. Here in China, you do have central heating to keep the cold at bay, but it is not the kind of central heating you have much, if any, control over. Instead, on November 15 the heating is switched on and lasts for four months. It is not necessarily correlated to the outside temperature, that is there is no thermostatic control, but instead it is simply on. And so our sauna of a youth hostel was perfect for washing and drying clothes, just a bit of a thirsty job trying to sleep at night.

Talking of clothes, my ego has taken a bit of a battering recently. The short snap of cold weather we've been experiencing necessitated purchasing a few extra items to keep us going. I was in need of a second pair of trousers; living in shorts at zero degrees is not good for your health and would be too much of a culture shock for the local populace! I found a pair of trousers for an absolute bargain. They just about fitted ok, maybe a little long in the leg, but otherwise not a bad buy. The only downside came when I looked at the label inside the trousers. I had jumped from a medium in the UK to XXL in China. Clearly I do not have the average Chinese physique!

Early on in our stay in Beijing we visited the National Olympic Stadium, affectionately known as the Bird's Nest, given it's complex exoskeleton that resembles interwoven branches and twigs - or for those of you with a sweeter tooth, a bit like a meringue nest. As you climb out of the subway, and catch your first glimpse of this structure, you realise just how impressive it is. Within the stadium, tier after tier of seats rise above you and you can easily imagine the energy of excitement in this place as Bolt charged down the track to take gold and set two new world records in the 100m and 200m. It is an inspiring place! As the last of the evening light faded to black, the Bird's Nest was internally lit up, bright red and orange, looking like some massive UFO just landed with the afterburners glowing! Directly opposite lies the National Aquatic Stadium. This crazy looking cuboid structure was lit up intense blue, causing a barrage of flash cameras to be set off as people marvelled.

Tian'anmen Square looked beautiful on the day we visited. The sky was clear and the sun shining in the crisp morning. But it wasn't just the cool morning that sent shivers down the spine. This Square has a rich history, even in my short lifetime. It was quite a solemn experience.

One of the main reasons for heading to Beijing was to see the Great Wall. It meant an early start, and for anyone who knows Beth, you'll know what that means! Even before the main rush of traffic into Beijing, the roads were packed, the usual rush of bikes, cars, lorries and people. And there are loads of bikes - millions swarming their way round the city.

On the way to the Wall we had to visit the obligatory jade factories. Here you'll see amazing ornaments and jewellery carved from the various types of jade. One particular treasure for the Chinese carved out of jade would be a cabbage, the traditional meal eaten in the New Year. To the Chinese, the humble cabbage represents 'good luck', the roots of which should point inwards towards the shop or home for constant success. I must admit, we weren't taken too much with the carved cabbage - I'd rather have the real thing stir fried where it belongs!!

90km or so north of Beijing lay our destination, the Great Wall at Mutianyu. It takes about 20 minutes steady uphill walking from the entrance to reach the Great Wall, and it is worth every single step. The wall somehow clings to the ridges that form a part of an impressive mountain range, weaving back and forth, disappearing into hidden valleys and reappearing, always climbing up and away as far as the eye can see. It is certainly a testament to man's engineering skill, but also to the brutality that cost 1.5million people their lives to complete this massive work. We blew a few gig's worth of photos here, everywhere you looked you just wanted to take more and more photographs. The light, the almost unnatural, gravity defying angles of the wall and the amazing scenery all combined to make a simply stunning vista. We were not disappointed.

Our last touristy trip in Beijing was out to the Summer Palace. Just on the north-western outskirts of the city, the Summer Palace is another marvel of design and engineering, with colossal lakes, beautifully planted walkways and classic Chinese architecture. We spent a leisurely day strolling around the quiet, peaceful scenery. The evening light was even more awesome than anything at the Olympic Park, a fantastic range of reds and oranges, setting the interlocking valleys in the far distance into fading spurs of rich purple.

Beijing was for us a much more pleasant city than Shanghai. Despite the size, there was always a homely little restaurant tucked away somewhere, with characterful staff working away over a simple steaming hob, cooking fantastic noodle dishes or rice at a fraction of the cost of the main restaurants. Even with our limited language skills, and by now, improving charades skills, it was still relatively easy to make yourself understood. A generous smile gets you a long way!

Just another 12 hour trip back to Shanghai for a few days before heading on to New Zealand.

And some more photos (left to right):

1. It can get cold - and Beth felt it
2. The seventeen arched bridge at the summer palace
3. Inside the stadium
4. Beth on one of the incredible bridges in the summer palace
5. Matt and Beth on the Great Wall
6. Matt demonstrating some of the finer experiences of dining on a budget

China

2008-11-13T10:10:00.015Z

It was our first real rain in fifty days as we touched down at Padong International, Shanghai, and decidedly cooler. It must have been a strange sight for the immigration officials to see foreigners still wearing flip flops at the end of October; a time when the general temperature is descending towards a toe numbing 10 degrees Celsius. But we were excited to be in China at last – despite the slightly numb extremities.

Our first challenge was to get from the airport to Shanghai, some thirty kilometres west. And for this challenge we made use of the Maglev – which I’m guessing stands for something like ‘magnetic levitation,’ seeing that chunky magnets sit under the train. The Maglev is quick. It glides out of the station at Padong airport under constant acceleration up to its cruising speed of 300 km/h, though this increases to 430 km/h during the busier periods of the day! A little under 8 minutes and we had reached our destination. It’s the quickest I’ve ever travelled whilst still on the ground (though technically I suppose we were not actually on the ground).

We then took the metro across Shanghai, an experience we shall not forget. I don’t know if you have ever had the experience of being winded or having your breathe suddenly taken away. Well if you can remember or imagine that happening slowly, then you’ll get the idea of the metro in Shanghai at rush hour on a Friday. With our bulky rucksacks providing at least some moderate protection for the rib cage, we stepped onto the metro to travel a mere six stops. At the first station more people crammed into an already crowded carriage, it seemed ridiculous that any more people could possible get on – yet they did. At the second station we were staggered as another fifteen or so people pushed and wriggled their way onto the metro. And so this game continued. You soon realise that in a city with so many millions of people your personal space is not a given, and it is common practice to have your face jammed into the back of someone’s head, or worse, sharing your personal space with an armpit or two! Getting off is simple – you just need to forget the whole English politeness thing, grimace and grunt a little, and then employ a few of the old rugby skills. Drop your right shoulder and barge you way through. Taking a few people with you earns you bonus points. If you still have your rucksack with you – you’re a winner.

We had a few days in Shanghai, wandering the streets, taking in the sights and sounds. Shanghai is a big city, with an energy about it like London, but there are also areas that are tucked away off the main streets that have a more town feel about them. Everywhere you go people are eager to sell you random bits and pieces. Although sometimes you have to laugh at peoples’ eagerness! As we trudged the streets, trying to find our youth hostel, laden down with our rucksacks and other baggage we seem to have accumulated on the way, one lady approached us trying to sell roller skate wheels that come in pairs. These clip to the back of your shoes so you can wheel yourself along the streets – how did she possibly think we were going to wear those contraptions whilst having a hefty sack on our backs?!

The following Monday we headed west, towards central China, to visit our friend who is teaching at a university. The train journey was a mere 17 hours, so we were very pleased to have a sleeper carriage. What we hadn’t banked on was being on the third tier of beds right at the top of the carriage. Thankfully our climbing skills came in very handy as we delicately climbed up the beds, trying not to wake the gently sleeping family, topping out by the air conditioning unit. Surprisingly, we slept really well. In fact, Beth slept so well the ticket attendant had to wake her!

Our first cultural surprise came in the form of clear plastic flasks that appeared to contain nothing else than black tadpoles gently swimming around. We thought that the Chinese must be caring very much for the environment, and everyone was getting involved saving some endangered frogs spawn - odd that they should do this on a train journey. To our surprise, people kept topping up their clear plastic flasks with boiling water - the poor little fellas are going to be cooking in that hot water - quick someone stop them! But then people were noted drinking from the flasks! What could be going through peoples minds to do such a thing. It was the next morning that we realised that the 'tadpoles' were in fact tea leaves cunningly cut to resemble the little black suckers. Beth and I now know green tea as 'tadpole tea'.

Our second cultural shock was with queueing. English people have a particular awareness of when exactly they joined a queue, and therefore, when they should next be served. If someone jumps the queue English people generally perceive this as being rude and either murmur and grumble or grab the offender and let them know they have somehow overlooked the other participants in the queue. You especially get this on English roads. But here in China - well queues are there for jumping. Just barge on through! It takes a bit of getting used to, but after a while it can be fun - as long as you have a bit of a cheeky smile on your face!

We spent just over a week in central China, learning a few words of Mandarin, and how to use chopsticks! The food was fantastic – some very different from home, some similar. Street food is well worth trying! But we also had the chance to help teach English at the university – not something every traveller gets to do!

The students we met at the university were very friendly, inviting us along to play table tennis (ping-pong) of which they proudly remind you China is the best. I can believe it – the ball was a blur most of the time as my grinning opponents blasted it around the table with as much power as they could muster. I spent most of the time collecting the ball from the floor and wishing I could just get one ball across the net to wipe that smile away! It wasn’t to be!

What really amazed us was the work rate of these students. If you ask them what their hobbies are you’re likely to get the response ‘sleeping’ somewhere in the conversation. Students sit outside in the cold evenings, using the light from street lights dotted around campus, studying and learning, sometimes reading out loud, sometimes quietly mouthing the words as they commit to memory their work. So sleeping really is a hobby – to get a lie in is a real treat. I look at my own university days and am amazed at the contrast.

We were treated to some of the local music one of the nights. Just wandering aimlessly around town we came across these ladies playing the drums and doing a dance. They were a dedicated bunch, each lady hitting the drum as hard as she could whilst the older members of the group played the cymbals and the triangle, despite the biting cold. We stayed for about ten minutes - but we soon realised that we were becoming entranced!

Too soon it was zai jian (goodbye) as we headed east towards the Olympic city, another mere 13 hour overnighter!

Some more photos including our trip to see the terracotta warriors and a quick tour of Xian:

1) A sunset over the fields

2) One of the towers along the walls at Xian

3) Some of the terracotta warriors

4) Terracotta horses

5) Matt and Beth enjoying some street food

Singapore

2008-11-11T05:51:00.009Z

You queue in a neat line for a taxi. The man on duty hails one taxi at a time into its allocated position. You wait a moment in the air conditioned booth, awaiting the nod from the attendant to acknowledge your taxi has stopped and it is safe to proceed. As you wheel out your luggage on a trolley, the boot of the car opens and a smiling driver lifts your luggage up for you. As you turn to push your empty trolley into the terminal you notice another smiling man has already appeared from nowhere and silently removed the trolley and guided it efficiently to its appointed place.
This is Singapore. It's clean, it's tidy, it's slick.

We had four days in this haven. A good chance to catch up on sleep, e-mails, blogs and washing. The main attraction in Singapore seems to be the shopping centres, loads of them that never seem to close. Beth was pretty happy!

There are a number of districts within Singapore derived from various groups who have immigrated - the names speak for themselves - Little India, Little China, Arab Quarter and so on. Wherever you go you notice how neat everything is, nothing seems out of place. And what is particularly impressive is the lack of monkeys.

Feeling withdrawl symptoms from those furry creatures we took a trip out of the main urban area to see the Night Safari, annexed to the zoo. The idea is that the nocturnal animals come out to play and you have a chance to marvel at these wonderful creatures of the night. However, the animals were clearly in on this game and decided that it was far better to mock the tourists craning for a glimpse of the beasts by staying asleep. They probably lie around until 11 o'clock, when the Night Safari shuts up shop, and then come out to play. Grr.

We did, however, have a close encounter with a leopard. When I say close encounter, I mean she was lying on her back the other side of a thick pane of glass enjoying a snooze. It was still very impressive to see the size of one of these big cats. We were also spooked by some large bats. A bit like those 3D 'magic eye' pictures, just as your eyes got accustomed to the gloom, a batman type figure suddenly appeared right next to you. This wasn't so bad until the bats opened their wings, a good half meter span at least; and those eyes.......!

On the last full day, we journeyed on the monorail shuttle across to Sentosa , a well laid out, if not too touristy (and therefore criminally expensive)

island annexed to Singapore. From the air you can see the man made beaches as three small crescents (get Google Earthing). These try and block the view out to sea where huge volumes of tankers are at anchor or are heading into the docks. Still, the views away from the tankers were fabulous and with the beautifully warm weather it really felt like a tropical island.

We left Singapore thoroughly impressed. It is an amazing place. But we were glad to get going too - it's not the cheapest place on the planet and we still have a few more months of travelling to go!

Last Stop in India

2008-11-11T05:11:00.004Z

Our final day in India was back at Delhi, back to the chaos. On recommendation from a friend, we tried the Grand Hotel, which from the outside looked like a normal hotel frontage, but inside proved to be the most luxurious place we have yet visited on our trip! The marble floors and spiral staircase, the large room with air con, widescreen TV (with Premiership football showing!), push button room service and a separate bathroom, all spotlessly clean. What a treat!

We managed a trip out to the Red Fort, located in Old Delhi. This is a magnificent structure of immense size, even by today's standards. Built over 400 years ago for the ruling emperors of the time, it would have made a big impression on those having an audience with the emperor.
The gateway into the Red Fort is colossal, causing you to strain you neck backwards just to try and see the top of the carved sandstone walls.

Unfortunately, many of the older parts within this walled palace have been razed to the ground and much of the original grandeur has gone. Instead of gold covered walls with the splendour of jewels and ivory, the bare wooden carved paneling is exposed, with parrots using cracks in woodwork to form their nests. Ironic really.

But if you stop and look long enough, you can imagine the enormity of the pomp and grandeur of this place. It's almost inconceivable to think this was used as a British barracks until 1949, until you see the ugly coarse brick and concrete structures in the middle of the grounds!

And so closed our short time in India, a country of such contrasts, so very different and diverse from quiet Shrewsbury. And yet despite all the chaos, the dust and the dirt, the smells, the crowding - despite all the shocking contrasts, it is a country with a magnetic appeal.

Postscript: Morning Star

2008-10-30T14:56:00.003Z

For those of you who read the earlier blogs about Morning Star, we have heard the sad news that the 12 year old boy, brought into the centre by wheel chair, died two weeks ago in hospital.
His name was Thulasizwe. No one in his family cared till it was too late.

Himalayan foothills....

2008-10-28T14:42:00.009Z

After an early start, an expensive taxi and too many near misses to recall, we arrived at Kalka, in the north-east of the Punjab. Here we are on the border with Himachal Pradesh, we're aiming to go east - and up.

The Himalayan Queen, a narrow gauge train with, shall we say, cosy carriages, winds its way from Kalka through pine forests, over impressive viaducts and through dark and cool tunnels along its five hour route to Shimla.
Although the train takes its time, the views along this route are outstanding and it has the added advantage over the bus in that you are much less likely to reach for a sick bag. In fact, so confident are the train operators of your stable stomach that they don't even provide sick bags - whilst on the bus on our return journey they plied us with bags - I know we look white and everything....!!

Shimla, one part of the Nepali kingdom, is now the capital of the Himachal. At around 2400m (just multiply that by approx. 3.3 for those who work in imperial units!) the air here is somewhat cooler than the valley and the fresh smell of the pine woods is a real contrast to the Punjab. Things are tidy and clean, there is even a pedestrian only area. How civilised!

From the railway station, everything is up, mainly because Shimla is built on a ridge. Our accommodation was some 25 minutes walk uphill, so Beth and I were especially pleased that we had packed light (I'm still so impressed Beth managed to pack all her stuff in a 40L rucksack). But the walk was worth it, our room, though fairly basic, had a fantastic panoramic view from one side of the ridge. The only downside, as you'll appreciate if you have ever been to Shimla, is the monkeys.

Now Beth and I are nature lovers, but there comes a time when a 12-bore shotgun comes in useful, and this is normally at about 10 in the evening or 6 in the morning when these nuts animals decide that it's time for territorial combat. The monkeys chase each other across the tin roofs, squawking and shrieking, bouncing on the corrugated tin panels, making as much noise as is possible. It's not just one or two - the whole troop get involved.

On one of the days, Beth was not feeling too well. I decided I might make the most of the fresh air and head up to Jakhu Temple at 2455m. This is a temple to monkeys and, not too surprisingly, is packed out with monkeys. The monkeys are free to roam and visitors are encouraged to buy some nuts and feed them - which basically means the little brutes are like spoilt brats. I wasn't here for the temple or the monkeys - I wanted views of those imposing mountains to the north, the Himalayas proper. The monkeys seemed to sense that I wasn't going to waste my money on their lunch, so two of the cheeky muppets decided to 'bounce' me. This involves being starred at, the raising of those 'not so cute' eyebrows, the lifting of the front lip and then a full body launch. Suspecting what was going to happen I managed to turn my shoulder and brace myself. A monkey of any size hitting you is a bit of a shocker, this monkey was about a quarter my size. If the local attendant to the temple wasn't looking with such a stony expression, I would have given these monkeys a bit of what for. Anyway, who wants to pet monkeys when there are mountains to see?

Some more views from Shimla (apologies about the formatting, for some reason Blogger has gone AWOL):

Clockwise from left:

1) Typical sunset
2) Looking down onto The Mall - loads of interesting little shops
3) Monkey on our balcony - get me the 12-bore quick
4) Another view of The Mall
5) Christ Church - a surreal English structure in the middle of India, made especially so with the occasional monkey skipping by.

Punjab

2008-10-23T10:05:00.022+01:00

The Punjab is a large area in northern India. Originally a much larger land mass before the great divide when the western Punjab was incorporated into Pakistan. And here Beth and I have spent the majority of our time in India. It has been a truly amazing experience, made particularly memorable by meeting Christians in the area. It still amazes me that no matter where you go in the world, when you meet a fellow Christian you feel right at home. And we certainly felt at home here.

The weather was generally hot, made even hotter by the high humidity.
Staying in the Punjab was not as crowded as Delhi and we were glad to be based in the countryside, surrounded by fields of rice.
The local village has a square where buffalo sit and chew the cud.
The villagers have circular cast iron cutters to chop the green stalks from the fields into food for these animals. Each home seems to have access to a buffalo, thus ensuring a regular supply of milk.

Want some milk? Speak nicely to the buffalo.

The square of the village gives way to narrow winding cobbled streets. At first it comes as a bit of a shock to have the main drainage from the houses culverted along narrow channels either side of the main paths - but as long as you remeber where you are going you're fine! The only thing that can catch you out is someone sending the washing up water down the drain into the culvert. The outlet pipes are cunningly located at ankle height, so any water coming out with too much gusto can easily give you wet feet.

The main modes of transport that we experienced were bikes, rickshaws, auto-rickshaws and tempos. I did managed to get some exercise, which was a novelty after our time in South Africa. However, to make the most of the cool part of the day, you need to be pretty disciplined and get up at around half three in the morning. I took a ride with these fellas on our bikes. These machines are single speeders. The front forks arch forward, giving you a very upright riding position and the brakes are a solid state mechanism! The main suspension is found in the form of two substantial springs located under the saddle which, for even someone of my mass, did a sterling job! We headed out of the village under a clear starry sky, the suspension soaking up most of the bumps. Apart from a spanner for fixing things, you also need a sturdy wooden stick. This handy tool is ideal for beating away dogs who get too close or for ensuring snakes know who is boss. Thankfully on the occasions I went out we only met the dogs.

The next mode of transport we used is a Tempo. This machine boasts one of the earliest 'lefty' front forks. Basically, imagine a Harley with an extra wheel at the back, slap on a steel shell over the top, weld on wheel arches, some steel grid around the edges, a couple of handrails and you're just about done. They reminded me of some kind of insect. Although you can seat nine, you can get about 24 onto these machines. Ladies generally sit inside and the blokes get the fresh air and flies whilst standing on any ledges you can put your feet on. In fact I preferred being outside, the backrest inside generally comprised a pole, similar to a scaffold, welded across to brace the frame and could be uncomfortable when there was any harsh breaking (which was fairly regularly!). And anyway, you look more cool hanging off the side of one of these things!!!

Auto-rickshaws and rickshaws are a good way of getting around. The auto-rickshaws are like scurrying beetles running along the main roads and now and again firing out a passenger before zipping on to the next destination. These are a slimmed down version of a Tempo.

Our final mode of transport here was the mighty elephant. It's a new experience grabbing the backend of an elephant whilst smearing with your right foot up the back leg of the beast. Still, the view from the top is great, although it feels a bit lurchy as you move along. Perhaps we need a bit more practice.

But by far the best thing about the Punjab is the people. We were made so welcome here. It was amazing and very humbling to hear how peoples lives had been dramatically changed as they had come to understand what the Gospel really means and how relevant and necessary it is. In my own culture, although 'Christian' nominally, there are not many who get to grips with what being a Christain actually is - of God's amazing grace to needy sinners. It may seem a strange thing to say for some reading this blog, but these people that we met in the Punjab, they are to us as close as family. I cannot really express how kind and generous people were to us and of the very real love expressed.

We were also fed so well. English food is going to taste so bland now! And at every home where you are invited in, in only a matter couple of minutes there are mugs of tea put before you. And the tea! I must tell you about the tea. It is sweet and packed with caffine. What more could you ask for? It makes our tea bags look quite pathetic. You boil up some water in a saucepan, add a few buckets of sugar, throw in some spices and load up the loose tea. Boil for five minutes and allow the flavours to infuse. Add some buffalo milk to get a nice colour, keep boiling for another five minutes and hey presto, you have proper Indian tea. Filter into a small mug, definitely not a gallon mug, and then drink. Superb at any time of day - just wait till I get back in the office! On one evening we visted some of the people from the local church and others from the local community. We had so many cups of tea - it was wonderful (and not just for the tea!).

But as so often happens, our time in the Punjab flew by. We have learnt a lot here and we feel that we have left something of our hearts in a small village in this big state.

Next, we travel east into the mountains for some cool air. But that's for the next blog.

Some more photos to browse:

First impressions of India...

2008-10-22T10:17:00.006+01:00

Nothing can quite prepare you for your first experience of India. As soon as you step off the plane and exit the airport, your senses are assaulted. The heat, the humidity, the smells, the colours, the noise, the sheer number of people is, at first, overwhelming.

Our taxi ride to our hotel was another first experience. After collecting all our luggage we were relieved to see our names on a placard at the airport (always useful when touts try and send you to some other taxi rank and inevitably some other hotel that you never wanted to go to). We followed a sombre looking fella through the airport complex and out into the sticky Delhi night. After a few underpasses we came to a car park jammed with minibuses and motorbikes. Our driver loaded up our rucksacks, then clambered through one of the side entrances to open the door from the inside. After some gentle persuasion, the kind that you normally associate with a wrestling match, the sliding door flung open and he beckoned us in. Seatbelts? Who needs those? The taxi started up, belching some hideous fumes into the face of some poor unsuspecting passer by. The engine in this machine was clearly out of tune and had to be kept at a constant high rev just to make sure it didn't stall. And then we were off, into the night, heading into Delhi on what has to be the most white knuckled, and yet hilarious, journey I have ever taken in my life.

In India, driving lives up to its reputation. There are lanes, but they are just to guide you in the right direction (though this is sometimes ignored as well). Traffic lights are beautiful Christmas decorations that people admire as they cruise by. I think driving is a game, you see a space, you get into that space. The rules of the road are if you are bigger than the other vehicle, you're more likely to win. Everyone blows their horn constantly - you'll never fall asleep at the wheel here with all that noise and all the adrenalin surging round the system! What scared me the most was seeing motorbikes weaving in and out of cars, generally men at the front with their crash helmets on, and women perched side-saddle, sometimes carrying a baby in their arms. The women don't wear helmets. The number of times we saw near accidents.....

The taxi driver swerved across a few lanes, jumped out and handed us our rucksacks. We were on the outskirts of a network of tiny cobbled lanes, small narrow shops bursting out onto the streets with their wares on display, people shouting and jostling for your custom. The occasional cow stood transfixed in the middle of the road with rickshaws and motorbikes speeding by. We followed a porter (no uniform, just a willingness to carry our bags for the right price) down a warren of lanes, our senses being bombarded once again, especially with all the food being cooked in black shallow pans right in front of us. After fifteen minutes or so we turn left, past some open latrines, down a very narrow backstreet, ducking under the telephone and electric cables that hang like suspended knitting, round another corner, and there at last is our accommodation.
It's basic but functional and after two days and only four hours sleep we're just glad to be able to sleep.

The next morning, another early start, and off to New Delhi Railway Station. This is a big place, twenty five plus platforms and the most surreal experience. As you walk around the busy platforms, men will be using the water supply situated between tracks, presumably intended for the trains, as their personal bucket shower cubicle. Lathered up and washing down whilst the hefty diesel engines hammer past, almost oblivious to the fact they could be crushed if a second train passes simultaneously. A number of touts try to persuade us that our e-tickets were invalid (purchased previously on the internet, hence e-ticket, and a thoroughly recommended way of getting your ticket) but after a short time, after becoming thoroughly fed up with being told one thing or another, we just barged our way onto the platform, leaving the shouting touts behind. And there was our train waiting for us, and even better, on the outside of our carriage, glued to the outside window, our names appeared on the reservation list. What a relief!

Our train left on time, passing dirty looking shanty towns on the outskirts of Delhi, with people unashamedly using the track, yes the track, as their own toilet, and out further into the green countryside, packed with fields of ripening rice. Away from the noise and the bustle of Delhi, heading north into the Punjab...

And some photos...

2008-10-03T17:30:00.004+01:00

Some photos at Morning Star..

Then Thabong and Phillipolis...

Onto Morgans Bay and our thatched hut..

And finally a few pictures of Bulungula - an amazing place!

If the formatting doesn't quite come out right, apologies! Just rushing my one hour free internet access at the hostel we're staying at in India. More of that later!
By the way you should find Doris a few more times (after popular demand).

A Journey of Goodbyes

2008-10-03T11:20:00.002+01:00

Lawrence was right. This is to be a journey of goodbyes. Lawrence and Tricia have been our hosts whilst in Welkom and they have made us very welcome indeed. Lawrence is a thoroughly likeable fellow who is amongst other things a poet, artist, metal and wood worker, political pundit and generally all round nice chap! Tricia is the energetic hostess, the motherly type who makes sure you're well looked after! If you're reading this we just want to say a huge thanks to you both!

We're going to miss everyone at Morning Star and the friends we have made here in Welkom. It has been such an experience - so much more than can be put into words. Just being with the children at Morning Star has been a real priviledge. We might not know their language but just being with them and enjoying fun and laughter together is more than words. I suppose the main thing we have seen at Morning Star, that has impressed us most, is the love and dedication of the people there.

We have also seen shocking examples of those brought to the centre who have neglected their children. It's impossible to understand why and it makes you angry that someone can be so cruel to their own child or that of a close relative. One lad, a 12 year old boy, came to the centre in a wheelchair. He was a breathing corpse. There was no muscle or fat on his body, his dry skin stretched over a meagre frame. His face was skeletal and spoke more than the whisper of words he could muster. He should have been laughing and playing like the other children but neglect had left him verging on death. Yet this is something that Morning Star has to try and deal with.

But when you see the joy and zeal for life in the eyes of children who have come to the centre and have had an opportunity to know love and care you realise just how worthwhile the work is, even though you appreciate this work is just a drop in the ocean.

Well, Beth and I have had a week heading south towards the Eastern Cape. We've visisted Phillipolis in the west of the Free State on the way to Morgans Bay (stunning coast there) before heading on to Bulungula, a Xhosa village on the coast about 2 hours drive from the nearest tarmac (some names for you Google Earth addicts!). The ride down to this place was exciting! We drove half the way in our Yaris hire car (respect to the Yaris - and the driver) and then were picked up by the 'shuttle'. This is a 4x4 off roader that looks a bit like a Monster Truck on steroids. Unlike my circumspect driving, our driver thought nothing of hammering it along at 120km/h, testing the suspension on a few tricky 4' potholes. The result was plenty of dust and some green looking tourists who were desperatley checking their life insurance and downing as many travel sickness tabs as possible! Awesome! I loved it (don't worry Mum - we're fine!)

Bulungula is an amazing place. If you get the chance to go I'd recommend it. The only downside to the week was Beth having some sort of flu which meant she has been in bed pretty much the whole time. But she is on the mend - just in time for us to travel to India.

Sorry folks that there aren't any pictures. The internet cafe here in Singapore has the computers locked away under the desk and I can't work the lock!!! We'll get some pictures up as soon as we can! Talking of Singapore, Jennie, you're right - the place is worth visiting just for the airport. Very nice indeed.

Not sure of the internet situation in the middle of the Punjab, so until next time - sala hantle!

Morning Star...

2008-09-18T12:54:00.008+01:00

Just look into those eyes. For most of the children here at Morning Star they have similar eyes - full of life and laughter and a little bit of naughtiness! There are a few children who are obviously poorly - you can tell by the effort it takes them to do anything, and their eyes have a lifeless look about them. But for the majority, at a glance, they are like children anywhere.

It's hard to describe the emotion you feel when you look at such little ones - when you look into those eyes full of life and realise that it's unlikely they will ever reach 18. Not much of the life I have experienced will ever be theirs and all of their life experience I will never know.

And here is where Morning Star does such an amazing work. It is a day centre in Welkom where HIV/Aids infected children can have a quality of life that they would not normally have. You see, for many in this area who are infected, there is a stigma attached, not just within the neighbourhood, but sometims within families. It has been known for those who have developed terminal TB or menangitus as a result of HIV, to have been abandoned - but thankfully Morning Star provides a ray of hope.

The children are picked up from the local townships, one of which is known as Thabong. This is a sprawling network of brick and tin shacks with minimal sanitation. At the far end of Thabong there lies a graveyard. For a town of only 60 or so years existence, the graveyard is disproportionately large. In fact, it is so large I couldn't see the end of it. A whole generation is missing and many of these children are looked after by grandparents or older siblings.

The children charge out of the minibuses and into the centre at 9.00 am, the younger ones (pre-school) are given a breakfast of porridge, which they absolutely love, whilst the older ones head straight for school. Following about half an hour of singing (devotions), there are lessons for the rest of the morning in both English and the local language, Thutsu, in two of the rooms which double as dining areas. Beth and I both had a go at dancing with the children during the morning singing, but these little guys have rythm in their blood!

Following the morning lessons the children play outside - and it's great to watch. You see their smiles (and occasional tears - they are kids after all!) and hear the laughter. We have even been treated to some of the local dances that they have learnt. Awesome!

Following lunch - which incidentally always smells amazing - the kids have an hour sleep. Their bodies need it. And then some more games outside until hometime. And so there is a typical day at Morning Star, if you can call any day typical! There is much more that gos on in the background as I'm sure you'll appreciate. There is a nurse, the clothing stores, food parcel distribution, the overall administration of all of this.

But I'll sign off with a moving picture. It is one of the things you cannot miss when you visit Morning Star - the wall of rememberance. Every name on that wall is the name of an individual child that has been through the doors at Morning Star since it opened in 2000, that has known the ongoing love and support that is shown here, and that has died....

To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you might just be the world.
(Thank you to all who contributed to Morning Star recently - it is greatly appreciated).

Into Africa...

2008-09-13T10:05:00.006+01:00

It was really close. Catching the train in Shrewsbury with 5 minutes to spare after four hours sleep the night before doing last minute preparations..well I hadn't quite banked on that. Still, the train journey went well, even if we both were shattered and couldn't quite believe we were going to be out of the country for six months. Beth and I were both really impressed with the flight out with Virgin Atlantic - not that we ever even got close to the Atlantic. The grub was great and we even managed to get some sleep - nothing short of a miracle for Matt.

We landed on Thursday to a warm slightly misty morning. A nice introduction to South Africa. After negotiating our way through customs and grabbing our bags we spent the next two hours sorting out a hire car. This was made particularly stressful by a blunder from our bank who had unbeknown to us managed to cancel not only mine, but Beth's credit cards too. So there we were at the airport feeling kinda small. Thankfully, as a last minute precaution, Matt stashed an old and rather underused credit card into his wallet which sorted out the car! And here would be a good spot to say a huge thank you to Candida, from our home church, for being on the end of the phone and dropping everything to help us. We didn't laugh much at the time - but hey, this is what adventures are made of!!

The drive to Welkom in our Toyota Yaris (which incidentally has confirmed my fears about company cars!) was through low lying grasslands, slightly undulating just enough so that you didn't despair as you drove along the dead striaght roads. Welkom is not a tourst attraction. It still has a few gold mines in operation and the skyline has terraced platforms of creamy green blue waste pumped out from the mines. It reminded me a bit of the old 'blue billy' contamination I've seen in the UK. And yes, apparently it contains stacks of cyanide!

And then we made it! The Morning Star project. And what a place! But that's for another blog...

Getting late...

2008-09-10T01:24:00.004+01:00

You might think from the timing of this post that we'd be in some far flung place, sunning it up and all the rest of it. But in fact, we're still in Shrewsbury, just about packed, and the DIY is definitely something we want to forget! At least it's less than 10 hours to departure now, and perhaps we'll sleep better on the overnight flight to J'berg.

It might be a good time to introduce you to one of our travelling companions. This is Doris the duck, who appeared out of the blue this Sunday evening, looking for a cheap flight round the world. We couldn't help but oblige (who can ignore such appealing eyes?). It's likely Doris will be making frequent appearances on photos on the blog, keep an eye out for her!

Next time we write, we shall hopefully be in South Africa. So till next time...

Nearly there...

2008-09-03T13:26:00.000+01:00

If there is one thing I am not going to miss, it's the smell of white spirit. This might seem a strange introduction to a blog concerned more with the experiences of exploring this big wide world, but at the moment, it's one thing I'll be glad to get away from. Don't get me wrong, DIY can be fun, but when you have a week left before you leave on a world trip, and all you seem to be doing is cleaning the roller with copious amounts of white spirit and then scrubbing your fingernails with your wife's nail varnish remover whilst inhaling enough of the vapours to make you think you've landed on a set out of a Star Trek episode - well, things can't be quite right. But we're nearly there! So perhaps it is worth it.

So for now I'd better go and varnish that floor one last time.