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A Hiking Guide to Easter Island by David Stanley

Ask me which Pacific island has the most to offer hikers and I’ll probably answer Easter Island. Here on an island 11 km wide and 23 km long you’ll find nearly a thousand ancient Polynesian statues strewn along a powerfully beautiful coastline or littering the slopes of an extinct volcano. Getting there is easy as Easter Island can be included in Oneworld’s round-the-world Explorer airpass, and a fine selection of inexpensive places to stay and eat awaits you.

The legends of Easter Island have been recounted many times. What’s less known is that the island’s assorted wonders are easily accessible on foot from the comfort of the only settlement, Hanga Roa. Before setting out see the sights, however, visit the excellent archaeological museum next to Ahu Tahai on the north side of town (the term “ahu” refers to an ancient stone platform). Aside from the exhibits, the museum has maps which can help you plan your trip.

The razon-backed ridge on the ocean side of Rano Kau crater.The first morning after arrival, I suggest you climb Easter Island’s most spectacular volcano, Rano Kau, where Orongo, a major archaeological site, sits on the crater’s rim. But rather than marching straight up the main road to the crater, look for the unmarked shortcut trail off a driveway to the right just past the forestry station south of town. It takes under two hours to cover the six km from Hanga Roa to Orongo, but bring along a picnic lunch and make a day of it. (If climbing a 316-meter hill sounds daunting, you can take a taxi to the summit for around US$6 and easily walk back later in the day.) Once on top, you’ll find hiking down into the colourful crater presents no difficulty. It may also look easy to go right around the crater rim, but only do so if you’re a very experienced hiker and have a companion along as shear 250-meter cliffs drop into the sea from the ridge.

Another day, rise early and take a taxi to lovely Anakena Beach at the end of the paved road on the north side of the island (you should pay under US$10 for the 20 km). A few of the famous Easter Island statues have been restored at Anakena and you could go for a swim, although the main reason you’ve come is the chance to trek back to Hanga Roa around the road-free northwest corner of the island. You’ll pass numerous abandoned statues lying facedown where they fell, and the only living creatures you’re unlikely to encounter are the small brown hawks which will watch you intently from perches on nearby rocks. If you keep moving, you’ll arrive back in town in five or six hours (but take adequate food, water, and sunscreen). This is probably the finest coastal walk in the South Pacific.Anakena Beach, starting point for the northwest coastal hike.

Almost as good is the hike along the south coast, although you’re bound to run into other tourists here as a paved highway follows the shore. Begin early and catch a taxi to Rano Raraku, the stone quarry where all of the island’s statues were born. This is easily the island’s most spectacular sight with 397 statues in various stages of completion lying scattered around the crater. And each day large tour groups come to Rano Raraku to sightsee and have lunch. However, if you arrive before 9 am, you’ll have the site to yourself for a few hours. When you see the first tour buses headed your way, hike down to Ahu Tongariki on the coast, where 15 massive statues were re-erected in 1994. From here, just start walking back toward Hanga Roa (20 km) along the south coast. You’ll pass many fallen statues and enjoy some superb scenery. Whenever you get tired, simply go up onto the highway and stick out your thumb and you’ll be back in town in a jiffy.

An outstanding 13-km walk begins at the museum and follows the west coast five km north to Ahu Tepeu. As elsewhere, keep your eyes pealed for banana trees growing out of the barren rocks as these often indicate caves you can explore. Inland from Ahu Tepeu is one of the island’s most photographed sites, Ahu Akivi, with seven statues restored in 1960. From here an interior farm road runs straight back to town (study the maps at the museum carefully, as you’ll go far out of your way if you choose the wrong road here).

A shorter hike takes you up Puna Pau, a smaller crater which provided stone for the red topknots that originally crowned the island’s statues. There’s a great view of Hanga Roa from the three crosses on an adjacent hill and you can easily do it all in half a day. A different walk takes you right around the 3,353- meter airport runway, which crosses the island just south of town. Near the east end of the runway is Ahu Vinapu with perfectly fitted monolithic stonework bearing an uncanny resemblance to similar constructions in Peru.

A fallen statue on Easter Island's south coast.Easter Island’s moderate climate and scant vegetation make for easy cross country hiking, and you won’t find yourself blocked by fences and private property signs very often. You could also tour the island by mountain bike, available from several locations at US$10 a day. If you surf or scuba dive, there are many opportunities here. A minimum of five days are needed to see the main sights of Easter Island, and two weeks would be far better. The variety of things to see and do will surprise you, and you’ll be blessed with some unforgettable memories.

David Stanley is the author of Moon Handbooks Tahiti: Including the Cook Islands http://www.southpacific.org/tahiti.html which also contains a full chapter on Easter Island. His online guide to Easter Island may be perused at http://www.southpacific.org/text/finding_easter.html

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Spelling Error Raises Eyebrows

Spotted by Bretislav in the Czech Republic, this is from the Canadian National Post: “A spelling error on several hundred government envelopes mailed from Nunavut’s capital last week added an extra ‘u’ to the spelling of Iqaluit, changing the meaning of the word from “the place of many fish” to “dirty bum.”.

”About 200 envelopes containing T4 income tax slips were marked with a stamp that mistakenly referred to Iqaluit as Iqualuit. [A linguist], who consulted with a fluent Inuktitut speaker … said whoever made the stamp appears to have used a prefix meaning faeces adhering to the anus. Seventy-one percent of Nunavut’s population speak Inuktitut… yet the public service does its work primarily in English because bureaucrats from outside the territory hold key positions in government. Government translators trying to turn English documents into Inuktitut reports, posters and street signs are overworked and the final products are often rife with spelling errors and literal translations that make no sense to the Inuit majority…”

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Serengeti Safari by Jennifer, NYC

I decided to go on a safari in Africa – not so unusual. However, all of the travel information I was able to dig up in preparation for this life experience talked about the game drives during the day and the typical you’ll see this many giraffes, this many zebra, this many lion, etc. I was not able to find information on what it was like being out there in your tent in the middle of the night. But I went anyway – not knowing. As it turns out that was my favourite part of the trip.

It’s October, we arrive in Tanzania and eventually make it to our camp deep in the Serengeti – Kusini Camp run by Fred and Carol, who are two of the coolest people my husband and I have ever met. We go out for some game viewing which is great fun, as expected. Evening starts to roll around, we have a great dinner, and then relax by the fire. As we are sitting around the fire listening to Fred’s crazy hunting stories we hear a slight noise to our right. As we look over, the Masai tribesman, who is monitoring the perimeter of the camp for wild animals shines a light on the stone bird bath not but 10 feet away. There is an enormous Cape Buffalo drinking from the birdbath. A magnificent sight up so close. This is when I knew that night time was going to be the best.

Shortly after, the Masai tribesman with rifle in hand, escorts my husband and I back to our tent – fully equipped with a small walkie talkie in case of an emergency. As we settle down for sleep we notice the unbelievably unique quiet surrounding us. It’s deafening quiet, however amongst the quiet you can hear the sounds of Africa. I can’t stand it anymore. I jump up, grab the spotlight provided, and start to survey the land around us through the thin mesh windows of the tent that separate us from them. Under the magnificent light of the stars in the black sky I am able to see an elephant slowly moving toward our tent. He arrives in only a minute or two to graze on the grass surrounding our temporary canvas residence. He is loud when he eats and a bit clumsy fooling around in the bush. But graceful and so close I could smell his dank leathery breath. I know he could charge at any minute if I went out and got in his way, but I feel safe inside and am able to watch him from only a few small feet away.

Later, I wake up to what I consider a roar, and it wasn’t my husband! This immediately provokes me to get out the spotlight again. This time I cannot see anything, not even a set of yellow eyes, but I can hear the roar from time to time. You just know he’s there. I set up shop by the opening to my tent waiting for him to emerge. I slept right there on the wooden floor but never saw him. In any case, this was surreal enough.

The next night I could barely wait to head back to the tents. This time I was ready and wanted the entire wild kingdom at my doorstep. While I lay there I could hear a lion again. I think he came back – maybe he liked it there as much as I did. I kept listening until I finally fell asleep. Fred was able to confirm my suspicions in the morning – there were lions in our camp.

We headed on the 4th day to a different camp in the Western part of the Serengeti – Kira Wira camp on the Grumeti River. During the night at Kira Wira I was also able to feel the excitement of being out in the wilderness. Again I awaken halfway into the night. This time to watch a hippo casually stroll by our tent and then head over to my Aunt’s tent nearby. The big fellow sauntered through the bush. I couldn’t believe it – up until this point I had only seen their heads in the water.

In the morning our Kira Wira friend came to wake us up with our usual coffee and tea just at sunrise. As he began to leave our porch he was confronted by a small herd of about 10 Cape Buffalo that came to graze by our tent or try to stay safe from the lion and lioness that may start to get hungry again. We were able to watch these buffalo in the faint morning light. They were only a few feet away looking falsely harmless and eating their breakfast.

Our last night we began our tent ritual by sitting on the bed with all of the tent windows zipped open looking out at the darkness. A large bat landed on the meshy “front door”. As it hung out there we watched its quick tiny movements. All of a sudden a long very furry blob leapt up on the door and grabbed the bat, whisking it away into the night. It all happened so fast we are still not sure what kind of 3 foot Civet or Janet it was that had been lurking nearby but it was an amazing close to our last eerie evening.

While the game drives were awe-inspiring across Tanzania, as I am sure they are all over Africa, I have to say that by far the most exciting part of the trip was not knowing what kind of visitor I would have each night and how close they would venture to mingle with this crazy New Yorker.

Kusini Camp info:

P.O. Box 427, Arusha, Tanzania

tel: +255 27 2502143

fax: +255 27 2508273

kmkjmz@optonline.net

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Knysna by Kevin Brackley

The town of Knysna in the western Cape of South Africa lies a scenic 500km east of Cape Town along the Garden Route. There is the option to drive all the way into town, but a far more interesting way is to take the Outeniqua choo-Tjoe train that departs from George. If you are lucky your train will be pulled by a steam engine. Once you have left George’s shanty towns behind the scenery is wonderful, sweeping curves where if you peer out of the window you can see the engine going round the bend ahead. At Sedgefield the line passes over a scenic bridge, under which flows an inlet from the Indian Ocean on your right. The train takes a couple of hours and costs approximately 120 rand.

Knysna itself has much to offer including trips into the surrounding countryside where you can hike, abseil and go mountain biking amongst others. At the waterfront area there are lots of touristy shops and restaurants to while away some time. From a jetty at the waterfront it is well worth taking a trip out to the Knysna Heads. Knysna itself is in a lagoon protected from the ocean by a narrow inlet where the surrounding hills almost meet. The trip out is on one of the worlds most advanced ferries, even though it does have the appearance of a bathtub!

The boat actually has three legs that can be put down on the sea floor so that it is lifted up like an oil platform. This can be used in rescues and also to drop passengers off at places where there is no jetty. The “Heads” are a raging torrent even on a semi calm day, they have claimed hundreds of ships and thousands of lives over the centuries, so much so that if you intend to take a vessel through them you have to inform the shipping insurers Lloyds of London. The boat staff keep up an interesting flow of information as you cruise, not only about their very interesting boat, but also about the nearby nature reserve and about what you are seeing.

After all this activity it is hard to beat a meal at “Bosuns” a pub come restaurant, which does excellent bar and sit down food for around 80 Rand, including a drink.

East of Knysna is the Tsitsikama National Park, which is located right next to the ocean. From the beach you can follow a lovely boardwalk through the forest called the “Mouth Trail”, which eventually comes out at the spectacular Hangbrug suspension bridge, from where you can gaze onto the crashing Indian Ocean waves. On the way back to town you can take in the adrenaline junkies Mecca of the Bloukrans bungy jump, this is currently the world’s highest bungy with a drop of 216 metres, reputed to be the longest seven seconds of your life as you free fall, are there any Globies out there who can confirm this, as this one has no intention of finding out!

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Busking All Over The World

29 year old Nigel Ashcroft, a musician from Wales is setting off on a trip trying to busk his way around the world in 80 days. He plans to tour 18 countries without carrying any money at all. He’s in confident mood and said: “I’m going to have to sing, perform, charm and maybe blag my way around the world – but I think I can pull it off.” He is a full-time busker and one of the first to be licensed under a new scheme by London Underground. They are also making a documentary of their trip to raise money for a charity for the homeless.

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Boxing Day Sports Festival in Mikindani by Matt Maddocks

Having been nothing but impressed with the way the Mikindani Sports Club or ‘Klabu ya Uboreshaji’ (the club’s Swahili name which means improving oneself through sports) was been run, I wanted to reward the club’s members along with others in the village with a day of competitions. Thanks to the efforts of those volunteers with me and several willing helpers on the day, the 26th December brought memories to a vast number of people, both spectators and competitors alike. We held a sports day which included a Bao competition and a football six-a-side taking place on the football ground on Mikindani’s biggest football team.

Bao is a traditional Swahili board game played on a board on which seeds are moved around a series of carved out dishes, the object of the game being to take your opponents seeds achieved by finishing moves adjacent to an opponents seed. Without explaining the ins and outs of the game a skilful play is made through experience, strategic play and being able to think moves ahead of the game which may be compared to chess or draughts. In Mikindani the older generation of males are the most respected group of players so we invited three players from each of the village wards to join up for a knock-out style competition. Proceedings took place under a mango tree and organisation took care of itself as there was a competitive but friendly atmosphere and players were self-affiliating and all joined together, rather enjoying playing along side the best players in the village. As the rounds went by, large crowds were drawn in and the final was quite a spectacle with two players surrounded by a sea of onlookers, both competing for the prize money placed underneath the playing board. The champion was delighted with his title but all players were very humble and delighted with how the competition took place.

While the Bao players ate complementary lunch, final preparations were being made to the football pitches which were small with full sized goals promising lots of scoring and the eight teams (made up from two sides from each of Mikindani’s four football teams) were warming up and stretching off. Matches commenced and those who were not players gathered on the sidelines with large numbers of spectators to watch who was on form and for any nominations for the man of the tournament who would receive some golden football boots! Games were fast and furious as any decent six-a-side should be but again collectiveness and good spirit between teams was evident throughout.

The crowds cheered as we were treated to some dazzling touches and outstanding play from all teams but the final was eventually contended (after both semi-finals going to penalties, the hero goalkeepers held above heads by the rest of the team and a few passionate supporters!) between Cigara F.C and Beach Boys who we were told were the equivalent to ‘Arsenal and Manchester United’; long standing rivals keen to get one up on the other. In a closely fought final Beach Boys won by a single goal and their followers ran on the pitch to congratulate their team just as though they were professional sports men. A presentation ended the day’s proceedings and a team photo of the 2003 winners.

Later that day and the next, several comments from teams and supporters gave their thanks for the day. I was told by some it was ‘the best public holiday ever’, ‘never to be beaten’ and ‘the village was awoken with delight and happiness’. These are exactly the feelings I hoped to bring about and numerous groups in Mikindani were fulfilled, old men, young footballers and families of supporters all had a brilliant day.

For more information about Trade Aid, volunteers and their work, please visit their website: www.mikindani.com

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Travel Stats: Largest No of Airports per Country

World airpports top 10

Rank Country Name Airports
1 United States 14,720
2 Brazil 3,264
3 Russia 2,743
4 Mexico 1,848
5 Canada 1,417
6 Argentina 1,359
7 Bolivia 1,093
8 Colombia 1,091
9 Paraguay 915
10 South Africa 741

Source:

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Fave Website

Take a look at Globetrotter Tom Freemantle’s website. He is a regular speaker at the London Globetrotters Club and has been on British TV talking about his recent exploits crossing the US to Mexico by mule.

Moonshine Mule: On the Hoof from... His latest book, The Moonshine Mule, focuses on the 2,700 mile walk from Mexico to New York with Browny, a cynical but heroic pack-mule. He lives in Oxford, where he still rides a bicycle, but never a mule.

This site outlines Tom Fremantle’s’ extensive journey though West Africa, through bleak, pale deserts with scrub to lush, meandering swampland where monkeys screech from behind mangroves: from bustling, urban casbahs to tiny, mud-brick villages on the banks of the River Niger.

Tom hopes the expedition will raise £30,000 for Hope and Homes for Children, a charity which provides homes for orphans and abandoned children, particularly in war torn areas, including parts of West Africa. The journey will also raise money for The Ark Charity in Milton Keynes, which helps homeless teenagers to find lodgings and employment.

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Mac’s Jottings: Languages

U. S. Soldiers Home, Washington: during a century of travel (well 78 years!) both in and out of service I have travelled to over 150 countries (I count both North and South Dakota as countries) and for some reason have jotted signs and happenings that I thought funny at the time (and now wonder why). So here is the perfect opportunity to share some of my anecdotes.

I admire those that speak many languages. I don’t. This reminds me of the guy that spread out the blanket for his girl friend and noticing the wet grass said: “some dew”. She replied “I don’t”.

The Japanese are very polite. You can be murdering their language and they will say: “You speak very good Japanese”. You then know you don’t. The French sneer at me if I don’t get the pronunciation right. I would try out a few words of French and would get the sneer.

In India and the Philippines because there are so many languages their leaders sometimes give their speeches in English. This surprised me but I was told they reach more people that way. In Mexico, I don’t speak much Spanish, but I am a very good guesser. I have a booklet that has pictures in it of different objects and no matter what country I am in when I want something I point to the picture. I am a good pointer.

I envy those that speak French as it sounds so sophisticated to me. My French is limited to: “Come and tie my shoe”, “Mow de lawn”, “Chevrolet coupe”. I was asked to leave France. I met some French people individually on a one to one basis having been introduced by someone and even was invited to a French couples’ home (both were school teachers.) They had a copy of newspaper printed the day after D Day when the Germans were printing the paper and gave me a copy, interpreting it for me. It said such things as The Terrorists (allies) have arrived but they will be pushed back. I had copies made and gave one copy to French embassy here.

While we Americans don’t speak very many languages, at the same time I think American are a friendly lot and are apt to invite foreigners into their homes or help foreigners on the street. I also lived in a French couple’s home right after the War. It is a long story but they were very hospitable to me. This was in Biarritz, France and the townspeople did not like us. We thought Hitler was going to go down to Spain to meet Franco and go thorough a train station in Biarritz. Our airplanes were meant to hit the train station but travelling so fast they bombed a path from the ocean right though the town.

On the other hand when the Germans occupied Biarritz they had the elite of their troops there and the French told us so they were so neat when they went to the beach lining their equipment up nice etc.

Next month, Mac discusses his 1990’s travel trip to Malaysia, Singapore, India, and on komodo dragons .

If you would like to contact Mac, he can be e-mailed on: macsan400@yahoo.com

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The Black Sea

Where exactly is the Black Sea? It is formed by three rivers: the Danube, the Dnieper and the River Don and is bordered by six countries: Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Georgia, Russia and Ukraine. The population of the greater Black Sea basin is more than 160 million.

Nobody really knows why the Black Sea is called such. Some say that it gained its name from sailors and pirates who were struck by its dark appearance when the sky turned black with storm clouds. The Ancient Greeks called the Black Sea the Scythian Sea, after the not so friendly tribes who lived on its shores at the time. Shipwrecked sailors could generally expect no a hard time from the Scythians, who raided the wrecks and were said to have made wine goblets out of sailors’ skulls. The Greeks also called it Pontos Axenos – the inhospitable sea – until they settled in Crimea, after which they changed their minds and called it Pontos Euxenos: the hospitable sea.

The Black Sea is very deep (1,271m at the centre) but it’s less salty than most oceans. It began life as a fresh water lake about 22,000 years ago. About 7,000 – 9,000 years ago, global warming melted glaciers and the polar ice-caps, sea levels rose and eventually the Mediterranean overflowed through the Bosporus, turning the lake into the Black Sea. Many archaeologists think that this catastrophic event was in fact the Noah’s Flood of the Bible.

The sea is unique in having two layers, an oxygenated upper layer, about 200m deep, with fish life, and a `dead’ lower layer, where until recently nothing was thought to be able to survive.

A peculiarity of the Black Sea is the bi-directional current where it flows through the Bosporus straits on its way to the Mediterranean. The surface current flows westwards through the straits into the Sea of Marmaris, but there is a deep current which flows simultaneously in the opposite direction, back into the Black Sea.

There are plenty of beaches in The Crimea, of Florence Nightingale fame – some 517 km of beaches – mostly small pebbles and some black volcanic sand. Many beaches are public, and the private ones owned by hotels and sanatoria are usually open to non-patrons at a price of around 3 Hryvnias (£0.40p or $0.56 cents) per day. There are also naturist beaches near Koktebel in the east.

Have you got a tale to tell?

If you have a travellers tale that your aching to tell. Then why not visit the “Travel Sized Bites” section of the Website and share it with the world. Travel Sized Bites


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Meeting News from Ontario

For information on Ontario meetings, please contact Svatka Hermanek: shermanek@schulich.yorku.ca or Bruce Weber: tel. 416-203-0911 or Paul Webb: tel. 416-694-8259.

Meetings are held on the third Friday of January, March, May, September and November. Usually at the Woodsworth Co-op, Penthouse, 133, Wilton Street in downtown Toronto at 8.00 p.m.

Passport for Barbados

An eagle eyed Globetrotter wrote in to say: I just found out that starting March 1st, US citizens will be required to have a passport to enter Barbados. Perhaps this will set a precedence for other Caribbean islands.


Angkor Artichokes by Dave Fuller

“Artichoke. It’s like a hard, rough, green flower.” The gears in my head whirred away as I searched for a description. All around me, serene faces carved out of stone blocks smiled. “What does it taste like?” asked Kay with pen poised. I looked to the grey sandstone heads for inspiration and replied, “A bit like… Cabbage.”

During the week, the Bayon and nearby stone temples of Angkor resemble anthills crawling with travellers. Two by two the tour groups scurry around the ancient monuments, up the steep sides and in and out of cool corridors, collecting knowledge, photographs and memories. On Sundays, the 200 carved faces of Avalokiteshvara smile smugly at young Khmers carrying notebooks collecting English words.

Kay is 13. He lives in the small village of Kok Tmey just outside Siem Reap. He goes to the temples of Angkor every Sunday to find travellers willing to spend a few minutes teaching him their language. That week his homework was to learn how to spell and pronounce a list of 28 fruit and vegetables.

In return for running through the list, Kay lead me to the bas-reliefs at the bottom of the Bayon where the first level of carving depicts daily life in Cambodia. “My uncle has one of these on his farm,” said Kay pointing to an ox-cart in a picture of Khmer soldiers off to battle. “And this is the village where the boat comes in from Phenom Penh,” he said, pointing to a panel that included a fish market. “Look at the chickens fighting and the old men playing.”

Kay tugged at my shirt sleeve. “Come this way. This is my favourite.” We walked to the western corner where a slightly faded panel showed a Khmer circus complete with tight-rope walkers and a giant lifting three other men.

From that point on ground level, the Bayon was a jumble of sandstone blocks. As we climbed knee high stone steps to the third level, the giant stone faces appeared in front and in profile, smiling above and all around. I said goodbye to Kay and left him and his school friends interrogating a Canadian girl about the taste of a guava.

“Custard Apple. It’s like a small soft coconut with green skin,” I explained as I sat in a deserted courtyard inside the Preah Khan temple. Bun, one of Kay’s schoolmates with the same homework, nodded and pointed to a small white flower growing in the shade of the rock. “Did you see the movie ‘Tomb Raider’?” he asked. “The girl found the entrance to the temple by finding the flowers. Just like this.” I looked closer at the tiny orchid, not much bigger than a thumbnail with five delicate petals in the shape of a star. It was a great reward for sitting still. We ran through the list of fruit and vegetables and then Bun showed me through the ‘Sacred Sword’ temple. We walked down the main corridor towards the central sanctuary. “Look how the doors get lower as we get closer,” said Bun. “This is to make you bow before the statue of Buddha.” Bun had no problems walking through the doorways as they shrank, but I could not pass through them without bowing my head.

The Preah Khan temple covers an area of 700m by 800m. As Bun led me over a pile of collapsed rooftop, I was glad that I had a guide to show me the hidden details, like an intricate carving of Shiva holding up the mountain and a queen statue that I would never have found on my own. We wandered down lost corridors to the southern gate where two headless statues stood guard against the jungle. “They guard against the monkeys,” laughed Bun, as the screeches of gibbons got louder in the treetops.

Bun and I made our way to the South Eastern corner of the temple where the Banyan trees had taken over from the stone. The thick roots of the trees gripped the 12th century sandstone blocks like the talons of a mythological bird of prey, providing a base for the trunk that dwarfed the remaining towers of the temple. “The jungle tree and the temple need each other,” said Bun, “The tree can not be removed. It holds the pieces together.” He walked with me to the north gate where he was delighted to find a French couple to help him with a postcard he had been sent.

“Persimmon. I don’t know. I’ve never eaten one. I think it might be a bit like this one,” I said, pointing to where passion fruit was written on the sheet. I sat with Jac under the cool canopy of trees covering the crumbling ruins of Ta Prohm. Jac pointed to a row of doorways topped by banyan tree roots. “That is where they filmed ‘Tomb Raider,” he said. I could see why. Unlike most of the other temples around Angkor, Ta Prohm has not been restored. Instead it has been left at the mercy of the jungle.

Academics argue about the merits of letting the site decay to satisfy tourists who want to feel like Lara Croft or Indiana Jones. Some say it is selfish to want to discover the overgrown entrances as if for the first time. As we sat in a green shady corner, listening to the birds and lizards rustle in the jungle, it was hard not to marvel at how nature had reclaimed the space.

We clambered over stones that had collapsed under the weight of foliage and in and out of courtyards that had been sealed on all sides. We slipped on moss and lichen still eating away at the carved stones and I tried to imagine what the place would have been like when 80,000 people had lived and worshipped there.

Another word was collected on the trek out the long sandy track to the eastern gate, Jac jumped backwards as a foot long shoelace came out of the grass and started to slowly cross the path. “Is it a snake?” asked Jac as I leaned closer. “No. We call it a worm,” I said as he furiously wrote it down in his notebook.

“Adventure. It’s a long and exciting journey,” I explained to Tola, a monk who lived in a monastery not far from Angkor Wat. Like most monks, he had studied English for a long time, but he still came to find tourists on Sundays on the third level of the main temple. We sat and looked up at the steep steps that led to the top of the central tower. Each step was about a foot high but only just wide enough to fit a foot sideways. “You get used to it,” said Tola, “I don’t even think about the height, I just run down.” He pointed to the summit as three Khmer boys threw their sandals off the top and onto the flat stones in front of where we sat. Then they ran, face first, down the steps without faltering. Tola grinned, “There is a hand rail around the other side.”

Tola met me at the top of the central tower. He climbed in bare feet straight up the side, while I used the thin metal handrail to pull myself 31m to the top. Once there, Tola pointed out the significance of the design of the temple. “This tower is Mount Meru,” he said, referring to the place where Hindu cultures believe the gods reside. “That is the ocean,” he continued, gesturing out over the walls to the moat of still dark water that forms a 1.5km by 1.3km boundary to the complex. We walked around the top level, traditionally reserved for Kings and high priests, until we were facing the paved pathways and main gates in the west.

The sun was setting and the Angkor sky was orange, tangerine, melon, paw-paw and blueberry. There was a colour for almost every fruit on the homework sheet…

This article can be found on Dave’s website:

dave@dmfreedom.com

Answers to: So You Think You’re Well Travelled?

How did you do at our little Beetle quiz based on capital cities. See how many you got right!

  1. Andorra: Andorra La Vella
  2. Gabon: Libraville
  3. Malta: Valletta
  4. Philippines: Manila
  5. Thailand: Bangkok

0 out of 5 – you need to get out more!

1-3 – not bad

4 – Very good! You are a Globetrotter!

5 – Are you sure you didn’t sneak a look?


Being Careful: Haiti

The UK Foreign & Commonwealth Office (FCO) advises against all travel to Haiti, and all British nationals in Haiti are advised to leave the country if they can do so safely. A highly volatile security situation prevails throughout the country, and rebels have taken up positions outside the capital, Port-au-Prince. The threat from terrorism is low.

The FCO website says: Kidnapping of foreign nationals (for ransom money) is increasingly common. Random shootings of civilians have become more common, robbery usually being the motive. Crime is widespread and often violent. Pickpockets and theft of valuables are commonplace. You are advised not to leave property in vehicles; travel with doors locked and windows up. Armed hold-ups of vehicles take place, even in daylight, in busy parts of Port-au-Prince.

Some areas of Port-au-Prince should be avoided at all times. Wherever possible you should avoid going out after dark in the capital and do not travel outside the city during the hours of darkness.

The political situation in Haiti is in turmoil. The government and opposition groups are still at loggerheads since the flawed May 2000 election. The security situation is unpredictable, particularly in Port-au-Prince and in the country’s other major towns. There was significant civil unrest in the latter part of 2003, with several large anti-government demonstrations taking place in Port au Prince and elsewhere in the country. These intensified either side of Haiti’s bicentennial celebrations at the beginning of January 2004, and are continuing. Several attacks on government facilities have been reported. The worsening economic situation is further complicating the security situation.

Wherever possible travel with a reliable guide. Avoid using public transport. You should only use rented cars with a local driver from a reliable agency (Dynamic Car Rentals, Budget, etc). Internal flights between the capital and some major provincial towns are available.


Meeting News from Texas

The next Texas Globetrotters meeting will take place on Saturday March 13th when we look forward to a talk from Southwest Airlines.

The location for the March and April 2004 meetings will be changed, (tax season), so watch your e-mail for the updates.

For more information about the Texas Branch: please contact texas@globetrotters.co.uk or register for email updates at our website (click here) or call Christina at 830-620-5482

If anybody would like to enquire about meetings or help Christina, please contact her on: texas@globetrotters.co.uk

Piracy Increase

The International Maritime Bureau says that more than 20 sailors were killed by pirates in 2003 – twice as many as the previous year. Seventy are missing, presumed dead. The Malaysian based organisation says piracy is increasingly becoming an Asian problem, with Indonesia the most dangerous area.

South and East Asia recorded twice as many as the rest of the world put together. More than a quarter of the world’s piracy took place in Indonesian waters, and without action from the Indonesian Government, the figures will not drop, the board said. Bangladesh is also a piracy hot spot where incidents almost doubled last year over 2002. Nigeria, Vietnam and India all have serious problems.

Other trends are also emerging: ships are now less likely to be hijacked for their cargo; attackers, possibly from militant groups, are seizing ships and ransoming their crew. Another concern is that oil tankers have become a common target and security experts fear a tanker could be used as a floating bomb to attack a city.


Gilberto Gil Gives Me A Lift! By Tony Annis

Globetrotters Committee member Tony, a professional photographer and journalist writes:

Going home in a black cab in London, not surprising, but being dropped home by the ‘Minister Of Culture’ certainly was. Gilberto Gil a great Brazilian singer and now a Minister, was in London to give a presentation in the ‘Collyer-Bristow Gallery in Bedford Row.

He was here to launch ‘ondAzul’ founder of the charity that helps bring clean and unpolluted water to many parts of Brazil a country that has the most water in the world but at the same time some of the most polluted.

I was invited by Joao Fortes, a good friend who had helped me arrange permission to go and visit ‘Yawanawa’ tribe in the deep Amazon some years ago, so I have first hand experience of many trips to Brazil.

Gilberto Gill A very Brazilian affair in a very old established English Lawyers Gallery. After a short presentation, a video on flat screens round the Gallery, Gilberto Gil picked up his guitar and this place became the Latin Quarter. He slowly built up this very different audience of Diplomats, M.P.s, Environmentalists and Lawyers into a group with many of them singing along with some of his songs especially the ones he wrote while in exile in London. The pace quickened and joining in was Jim Capaldi the well known drummer, but not with drums but making his mouth a bass and drum rhythm section and he certainly helped drive it along. One of the Partners told me the place had never been so alive and with the wine flowing, the music playing, this did not feel like a winter night in London but a music bar back in the warmth of Rio. Sometimes you can travel without going anywhere.

So this is how after BBC World Service and other interviews, I found myself in a cab with Joao and Gilberto, heading back to town. Very, very early flights for them and a lie in bed for me. If you’d like to find out more about Gil, you can visit his website: www.gilbertogil.com.br

For more information, see; www.ondazul.org.br

March is Brazil month in Selfridges, London. www.selfridges.com