For those seeking the ultimate adventure in natural surroundings, a recommended place that has captured the imagination of many travellers is the Sepik River Region, located on the north coast of Papua New Guinea.

Here you will find everything from ancient cultures and traditional arts and crafts to exotic birds and wildlife including crocodiles. A popular tourist activity is river canoeing, using motor-powered traditional canoes. The region is world-renowned for the 1,100-kilometre long Sepik River, its ancient and primitive arts and is considered Papua New Guinea’s equivalent to the Amazon and the Congo rivers.

The mere mention of the word the Sepik also conjures up images of the secret men’s house, the haus tambaran but its best-kept secret is the Sepik Blue (Dendrobium lasianthera), a species of orchid that is endemic to this region.

But the Sepik is much more than just the river, its people and arts. It’s about magnificent coastlines with white sandy beaches, beautiful volcanic islands, tropical rainforests, grassy plains, high plateaus and plenty of war history.

The region’s provincial capital and centre for commerce and an international airport is Wewak, a coastal town littered with remnants from World War 2 and the only major town in PNG with a white-sandy beachfront, perfect for swimming, light surf and as a perfect anchorage for visiting yachts.

The Sepik River region’s fame and importance is largely due its richness in art and the river itself serves as a source of inspiration and influence for its people, their lifestyle, traditional beliefs, customs and art forms, reflected in statues, masks, neck-rests, stalls, hooks, shields, baskets, pottery and skin cutting.

Sepik art is known to be richer and having more variety than any other region in the Oceania Region. The main area that is rich in art is the middle river region, a densely populated area with nearly 30 large villages of the Iatmul language group people. Tucked away in this corner of Papua New Guinea is the small river village of Aibom that has captured the attention of the ceramic world with their masterpieces of pottery. Many potters and researchers from around the world visit the Aibom pottery village every year.

From the air, the Sepik River and its many tributaries and estuaries looks more like a collection of brown snakes of numerous sizes, meandering over the forests floor for 1,100 km on its way to the Bismark Sea.

The Upper Sepik is mountainous and known for its insect cults while the Lower Sepik is primarily swampland and its people’s life and culture is based around their relationship with and reverence for the crocodile.

The Middle and Lower Sepik experience seasonal floods that come as a blessing because they sweep hard wood logs down-stream that are collected and used as material for building houses and carvings. Up and down the river, people make use of the rising river levels to move between villages, attend to their clan and tribal obligations and trade fish, sago and clay pots.

Wewak is a spread-out town and is clogged in places by swamps and mangroves and has an extensive mountain range as its backdrop. For the holidaymaker, this is a scenic town and has its fair share of war history to tell. The town and surrounding hills are littered with remnants from the war. A must-see is Mission Hill that houses Japanese AA guns, the look-out at Boys Town and Wom War Memorial Park, the site of the Japanese surrender in WWII.

Further out of town, a recommended stop is Maprik, south of Wewak and known for the haus tambaran and yam ceremonies and masks while Angoram is the best place to pick up Kambot storyboards.

For those wanting a feel of PNG’s own version of the sun, sand and the surf, there are many off-shore islands close to Wewak that are perfect for this activity, among them, Mushu Island which has some of the most pristine blue waters, high pounding waves and unexplored coral reefs in PNG.

North of Wewak, the volcanic island of Kairuru is worth exploring. The main area of focus is the Catholic mission station and school and there is enormous potential for nature-based and adventure activities. You can trek following traditional gardening routes or if you would rather stay close to the sea, there is snorkelling or you can choose to observe thermal springs or take a hike to a beautiful natural lake in the island’s mountainous interior.

The author, Steven Mago is a journalist, travel writer and tourism promoter. He was born in Papua New Guinea but for the time being is living in Sydney. Steven can be contacted on: stevenmago@hotmail.com

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PLEASE NOTE NEW LOCATION

We will meet at the VFW Hall on Peace Street instead of the library on Common St.

The hall is across from the entrance to Cypress Bend Park where the April 2002 picnic was held.

Peace Street is between the library and the river off Common St. Turn on Peace Street – the Fairgrounds are across the street so you can only turn one way. There is a sign for the VFW hall on the corner. Go to the dead end (cemeteries on both sides) and turn right into the parking lot for the VFW hall.

Mark your calendars – Dates of future meetings: April 12th,

The VFW folks will open their bar so we will not go to the Hoity Toit after the meeting. If you like, bring some nibbles to share for conversation time following the meeting – since we will miss the peanuts from the Toit.

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

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This is Muir’s Tours most popular volunteer placement: the Przewalski horse was almost wiped out, when horse lovers decided to start a breeding programme from the few that remained in zoos. We now need to observe their behaviour in the wild – this is where you come in. We need you to walk and ride the steppe of Mongolia – watching and noting how they cope, as they learn to live in the wild.

Interested? Look at: Muir’s Tours Mongolia Przewalski Horse Volunteers

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If you enjoy writing, enjoy travelling, then why not write for the free monthly Globetrotters e-newsletter! The Beetle would love to hear from you: your travel stories, anecdotes, jokes, questions, hints and tips, or your home town or somewhere of special interest to you. Over 7,500 people subscribe to the Globetrotter e-news.

To see your story in cyber print, e-mail the Beetle with your travel experiences, hints and tips or questions up to 750 words, together with a couple of sentences about yourself and a contact e-mail address: Beetle@globetrotters.co.uk

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“So how did you get into such a mess anyway?” We both looked down at my bandaged knees and horrendously blistered feet, clogged with shreds of zinc tape. “It’s a long story.” “Well, you can tell it to me over a beer.”

Grégoire, a log cutter from Ortù, one of Corsica’s remotest villages, had picked me up at the bottom of the Liamone valley, hobbling north towards the pale grey needle peaks in the distance. This corner of the island’s wild interior, ringed by miles of granite mountains, is renowned as a nationalist bastion (the goatherd who gunned down the French governor a few years back is believed to still be at large in the hills hereabouts), and I was surprised to be offered a lift at all, let alone one to the end of the road.

“Just don’t talk politics”, my host warned me under his breath as we stepped into the village bar. Plied with draught chestnut beer and chasers of myrtle liqueur, I spilled out my story. In two months of rough walking, I’d run into one set back after another: knee injuries, nocturnal wild boar attacks, a mouth abscess, a mad dentist who’d broken an anaesthetic needle in my gum, and, finally, a root canal filling that had cost more than my flight.

.

“No doubt about it,” he nodded, “Evil Eye. Quelqu’un t’as fait la mauvaise oeuil, mon pote.” I’d read about the Eye – l’Occhiu – in old ethnographies – how it was believed someone could cast a malevolent spell with the wrong kind of look, a jealous comment, by saying how well your children looked or praising the appearance of your horse. But I didn’t see what any of this had to do with my blisters. “Don’t worry. I know someone who can sort you out. Come.”

Draining his glass, Grégoire led me back out into the glaring light of the square and through a series of alleys to an ancient stone house with pots of geraniums growing from oil tins on its window sills. A knock at the door was answered by an elderly woman with purple-tinted hair and a gleam in her eye. Grégoire muttered something in Corsican, and I was ushered into a shuttered front room that smelt of church and wood smoke.

The woman, Grégoire explained, was a Signatora, a “Sign-Maker”. “She’s going to find out if you’ve got the Eye.” I watched as a candle was lit, a shallow bowl filled with water and drops of oil poured into it. Closing her eyes and lowering her head, the Signatora then began to murmur verses in what sounded like Latin, pausing every now and again to make the sign of the cross over the bowl. After two or three minutes, Grégoire’s eyebrows raised steadily as, on the surface of the water, the unmistakable form of an eye began to take shape. There were knowing looks and more exchanges in Corsican. “She’s going to cut some of your hair, to break the bad spell later,” he said enigmatically. “Don’t, whatever you do, thank her, ok?” So I merely smiled and waved goodbye as we stepped back into the sunlight of the street.

Now, I’m not a great one for superstitions. But I have to admit that from the time I left that old lady’s house I felt unburdened in some profound way. Suddenly life felt like a freshly oiled bicycle wheel again. Having said farewell to Grégoire (being careful not to thank him either) I flew through the forest to the top of the valley and the mountain hut I’d limped down from a week before, and polished off the rest of the infamous GR20 haute route in a week, without so much as a twinge from teeth or toes. More amazing still, waiting for me at the refuge after I’d left the Signatora, munching his way through a packet of Hobnobs and a cup of PG Tips, was my old flat-mate from college, who’d just happened to have arrived – a chance in a million.

Who says there’s no magic left in travelling?

©First Published in Wanderlust magazine, 2002. David is the author of the Rough Guide to Corsica (now in its fourth edition) and the Trailblazer Guide to Trekking in Corsica.

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U. S. Soldiers Home Mac: 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 stayed in Hotel Blue in Delhi (avoid it.) Actually OK but basic and the police were constantly checking the place as so many of the clients were young people travelling the world for years and didn’t have any work (except temporary jobs). There was a young German travelling around the world on a motorcycle. He was born after Hitler was dead. He told me he was in Egypt and when an elderly Egyptian heard he was from Germany said to him. “Hitler is a good man. How old is he now? This broke up the young German. Some people never get the word. Indian police came up to the hotel looking for illegal immigrants and the young German disappeared.

While waiting for a room in New Delhi at the Hotel Ashok Yatri News $10 US a day (it seemed to be a budget hotel ran by the government and I liked it) I went into the public toilet in the lobby and took all my luggage into the stall with me. When I went to leave stall I had trouble getting the door open as my luggage was in the way. As I struggled out, I saw an Indian at the washbasin watching my antics. I told him. “I spent the night in there – couldn’t get a room. Without batting an eye he said “You did not have to do that”

Puri, India. Stayed at Z Hotel. That is the entire name of hotel or as the British say zed for Z I think. Z hotel is on Chakraateertha Road. A short name for hotel. Long name for road. It is on the beach next to the ocean. The hotel was a palace of a very minor Maharaja of a very minor state in West Bengal. I was offered a complimentary drink as I signed in. All this for 480 rupees ($4.80 U.S. a night.) You can walk to fishing villages with palm huts a short way from hotel. When I went to see the fishermen bring in the fish at 4PM, a little boy ran ahead of me to point out the faeces on the beach (the fishermen use the beach as a toilet). He would point and say Toilet. He was constantly saying Toilet, toilet, toilet so I would not step into the faeces.

At the Konark Temple in India where they have erotic carvings of men and women doing things in almost impossible gymnastic positions a little boy appointed himself as my guide. This ten year old guide solemnly informed me. “There are sixty four approaches.”

Madras, India. Diana had read that the bicycle rickshaw drivers in front of train station would often take you to a hotel where they got a commission instead of the hotel you requested. She told me to give the address of a landmark near the hotel you wished. Tell him you want to go to Star Theater (which was near Broadlawn Hotel I wanted) I said Star Theater please and he replied. “Oh the Broadlawn Hotel!” I moved from there to Himalayan Hotel that Dianna kept calling the Everest.

The Fairlawn Hotel in Calcutta is a hoot. It is run by an Albanian lady (I think) who had been married to a British Major, since died. She was more British than the British and she ran the hotel like they did in the days of the Raj. She had all the men servants wear colourful turbans although they were not Sikhs (I at first thought when they said someone was Sikh I thought they were saying they were sick.) When she was out of sight they would pull them off. She would walk around with a little poodle in her arms saying “And how are you my dear?’ Americans loved this but some Indians from America revisiting India told me that their daughter hated this.

I stayed in several hotels in New Delhi including YMCA and YWCA International Hotel (took both men and women) food very good there. In an Indian brochure I read “When our hearts are empty we collect things” (give me your things and sin no more.) It is true that we sometimes become slaves to our possessions. Give them away and travel!

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

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Spotted by eagle eyed Kevin, the Membership Secretary: a new low cost airline is being launched at Luton, called “NOW”. The new airline will offer fixed fares according to the season, so that all passengers on the same flight will have paid the same amount. Now’s flights will be priced in zones, e.g. Manchester is in Zone A, a one way flight will start from £35. Whereas Lisbon in Zone E will have one way fares starting from £65 + tax.

Now is scheduled to begin services in June 2003, using 2 aircraft flying to

Manchester, Lisbon, Tenerife, Jersey and Rome. After 3 months there are plans to add an aircraft to the fleet add Valencia and Dusseldorf to the list of destinations serviced.

This will add another 30 flights/week at Luton providing another 650,000

seats in the first year.

Now expect to sell around 80% of the tickets via their website

www.fly-now.com

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The following is an extract from Henry from Hawaii’s website which has lots of interesting links and provides much background to this memorable trip to Molokai. To find out more info, take a look at:

The research vessel Atlantis is a state-of-the-art oceanographic ship, delivered in 1997, which launches the well-known deep diving submersible Alvin. I was invited to join the 14 Nov voyage departing Puntarenas, Costa Rica for an area in the rift zone northeast of the Galapagos Islands. This deep-sea odyssey, configured to retrieve borehole information from both the rift area northeast of the Galapagos and the deep trench area west of central Costa Rica, was essentially to help more precisely determine the subduction mechanisms of plate tectonics. Incidentally, the daily location of the R/V Atlantis (AGOR-25) can be viewed online along with its recent track.

I flew from Chicago, via Mexico City, arriving very early in the morning and stayed at the Posada Aeropuerto near the airport for a relatively few hours until I started exploring the Poas volcanic area and later in the day driving to the capital, San Jose, for an overnight stay. The next day was spent visiting the city sights such as the National Museum and the evening was given to travelling some sixty miles west to Puntarenas. As usual, the wet season afternoon showers were heavy but nothing large enough to impede any plans. Incidentally, the wet or green season as they like to call it there, ends just about mid-November and the rest of the time the weather was excellent.

In Puntarenas, I stayed at the recommended Hotel Tioga with a good view of the beach looking south to the sea. It was a much welcomed stay and very quiet compared to the constant noise of San Jose. I even enjoyed all two stations on the local television scene and the big and inclusive breakfast. At first light from my balcony, I could see the m/v Atlantis riding at anchor almost due south of the hotel.

Puntarenas is both a fishing port and a resort centre on the west central coast of Costa Rica. It is situated on a four-mile-long spit that extends east-west from the narrow waist of Costa Rica. Its tourist activities consist primarily of water-related attractions; however, excursions to the cloud forest at Monteverde and to San Jose, for example, may be accomplished as day trips. This is not the case for the volcanic areas of Arenal Volcano, Poas Volcano and Irazu Volcano inasmuch as the distances to these areas generally are too great when starting from Puntarenas.

I caught a water taxi to the Atlantis and was introduced to the ship by its most hospitable captain, George Silva. The research vessel is a remarkable self-contained workshop of the deep with a most competent staff of high-calibre people. Later in the day the scientist in charge, Dr Keir Becker of the University of Miami, embarked with his group of sea-going scientists. It was a most impressive group.

The first two days at sea were involved in heading almost due south some 600 miles to the first dive site at 1*14’N/83*44’W. The next day was taken up with Alvin diving to 11,500ft to two boreholes to retrieve information pertaining to physical conditions within the wells. In addition, sampling was made of the water content for evidence of bacteria that have been residing in the deep areas beneath the floor of the ocean. NASA apparently is interested in these results as they will also be attempting to retrieve evidence of bacteria that might have resided on such remote areas as Mars.

The following two days were spent travelling north northwest to a second dive site at 9*39’N/86*11’W where Alvin was sent down 14,000ft or almost three miles to retrieve data from the deep trench that parallels the western coasts of both North and South America. On the outside of Alvin, we attached a bag of Styrofoam cups with various messages and logos only to see them shrink to inch-high thimble-sized curiosities due to the huge pressure exerted at those depths.

The last leg of the voyage covered approximately 100 miles as we headed east around the Nicoya Peninsula back to Puntarenas. Incidentally, during the cruise we saw dolphins. turtles and pilot whales. Overall, it was a most successful and enjoyable voyage.

The fifty-mile drive from Puntarenas to the San Jose international airport took two hours on the narrow two-lane Pan American Highway and, after another overnight at the Posada Aeropuerto, an early flight to Chicago completed this portion of the trip. The flight track brought us over Guatemala City and the view to the west at the string of coastal volcanoes, some of them smoking, was marvellous. Lake Atitlan was clearly visible in the early morning and I took an awful lot of pictures. Even smoking Popocatepetl (18,000ft) and snow-covered Ixtacihuatl near Mexico City presented calendar-quality photo opportunities.

The entire trip was rewarding and I would hope to accompany the Atlantis on some future research voyage.

If you would like any further information, please contact Henry by email: Nowicki@webtv.net

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Tour operators are worried: the Greek Islands are beginning to lose that golden reputation as the place in the Med to chill out and explore the ancient historical sites. Recently, there have been some high profile sex attacks, reports of dirty beaches, racism and incidents in some of the noisy rave type resorts. According to Noel Josephides, managing director of Sunvil Holidays, a Greek holiday specialist, “the number of British holidaymakers to Greece levelled off this summer, and the country cannot afford to be complacent. This was the first summer in 30 years that we did not have a single incident of hotel overbooking. Nothing is ever full now.”

Other tour operators have criticised Greece as a holiday destination. Abhi Dighé, a director of Kosmar Holidays, the biggest operator to Greece said: “In Portugal and Spain, the beaches are raked overnight. People there still leave cans and rubbish — but in the morning they come back to a clean beach. This has to happen in Greece as well. People don’t want to clear away rubbish and take it to an overflowing bin before they put their towels down. It is not luxury that people are looking for, just quality and safety.”

And yet, the Greek government recently announced that it would be building more large resorts.

So what is there to do in Greece? Interestingly, most tourists view Greece as a comparatively inexpensive sun-and-sea destination, rather than for its classical sites. The number of visitors to the major ancient sites and museums declined during the 1990s. On the other hand, there were more visitors to archaeological sites on islands that have become tourist destinations. Alternative tourism, including ecological and special interest holidays is gaining ground, but remains a small segment of the overall market.

Who will I be sharing my plot of beach with? The latest figures that the Beetle could get hold of show that 12.8 million visitors went to Greece in 1999. The Germans and the British account for about an astonishing 50% of all arrivals. They are followed by other western Europeans, mainly French, Scandinavians and Italians. There are comparatively few high-spending US and Japanese visitors. The number of tourists from the former communist countries of eastern and central Europe is increasing at a steady pace. There was an estimated 15% increase in visitor numbers in 2000, mainly of people going to Crete, and Rhodes.

So where should I go? More than 50% of visitors to Greece stay on half-a-dozen resort islands – Crete, Rhodes, Cos, Corfu, Mykonos and Santorini. – with airports equipped to handle international charter flights. In northern Greece, the main destination is the Halkidiki peninsula.

And how long is long enough? Most tourists come on package holidays, flying directly to a resort destination aboard an international charter flight. While the number of arrivals increased by over 30% during the 1990s, the average stay declined in length from over two weeks to about 10 days.

Is it posh? Um, well, no. If you go by the figures, Greece has an estimated 1.5 million beds in hotels and rooms for rent. Of these, only 30,000 are in luxury and first-class hotels – that’s 2%, and about a third of these are business hotels in Athens!

Greek officials predict that tourist arrivals will peak in 2004, when the http://www.athens2004.comOlympic Games will be staged in Athens.

Statistics provided by the Greek Tourism Services

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Thank you to all those who wrote in to our debate.

Bernard from the US wrote in to say, “A quick stop in a place shouldn’t necessarily qualify as “having been to a place”. According to such thinking, I have travelled to Canada, though I was only there one day on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. Also, I travelled to Amsterdam, though I was only there for a weekend; doing a last quick bit of European sightseeing before heading back to the states. I believe the essential point of travel, is to gain some degree of familiarity with a geographic area & experience with the local culture; ideally in order to come away with a greater understanding & appreciation of the place where you have been. A person just stepping foot on foreign soil for a day or two, just isn’t going to cut it. However, I understand there are others who may disagree. In reality, anything less that this is just basic sightseeing”.

Richard, also from the US, wrote in to say: “I have had this problem a number of times. I don’t count an airport stopover as a visit. If you never leave the airport building (or step more than a few feet from the riverbank as the person in Feb e-news did in Laos), you shouldn’t count it. I believe that to be fair, one needs to experience some of the country, even if it’s only a one-hour guided tour or a bus ride into the nearest city. Involvement with a local resident also would help validate the visit, even if it’s only buying a snack from a street vendor (outside of

the airport/dock area). Sixty-seven “real” visits and counting!”

What do you think? Write in and let the Beetle know.

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