A few years ago I travelled solo to Egypt where I would meet up with other travellers for the usual gammit of Egyptian experiences; a float down the Nile, a camp in the desert, and a wander in ancient tombs. This is the continuation of my adventure. KrisMt Sinai has absolutley scratched my Mountain high itch. After leaving Cairo we endured a very bumpy 7 hour journey East to the Asian part of Egypt – Sinai. An incredibly dry landscape with high granite peaks flowed past our first glimpse of the azure Red Sea. Named the Red Sea because apparently at night the granite cliffs reflect and turn the sea a reddish colour. So here I am on the coastline of that sea looking across to Saudi Arabia so clearly on the horizon; in a tranquil little town called Dahab which is to be my home for a few days.

But yesterday remains to be told. I was excited about hiking to the top of the mountain that apparently Moses received the 10 commandments – but not at all for that reason. We started late afternoon after a bumpy bus ride. As we left the wide brown valley behind, the arid granite scape rose up like towering apostles.  I could imagine Moses in this scene, the shaky dramatic music and the task at hand – smiling as my childhood religious class flash-backed.

As we quickly met the sharp mountain incline the sauntering camels greeted us with the only colour in the pink and sand palette. A steady few hours hiking lay ahead, ending at the 2,200 metre summit. We reached the top nearing sun set as the soft light illuminated the quaint church on top; in every direction mountains enclosed our high.

The new inspiration for me that day was the local Bedouin who walked effortlessly with us. A spritely 55 year old man called Haj Shaleh – I liked him instantly. Named Haj because he has visited his holy place of Mecca like Christians that pilgrimage to Jerusalum; he walks up the Mountain twice a day and beams encouragement right through you. His smiling eyes warmed our cold hands at the peak.

As the orange glow of the sun set I stood up from my chosen rock and cast something far down below – a piece of my recent past that needed to be severed. Sinai seemed to be the perfect place to cast off any negativity. I don’t believe in the story of Moses but I definitely felt the spirituality and beauty of the landscape. Mountain tops will always have that appeal for me and if it’s the place that Christians, Jews and Muslims believe to be chosen then all the better.

After sunset the sharp cold came quickly. The sky turned pitch as we descended, but the almost moonless sky rewarded us with an incredible carpet of stars. We all felt elated and buzzed, Mt Sinai being the highlight of this trip for me so far. I’m energised by the starkness of the treeless mountains and now soaking up the contrast of being beach side – Dahab has diving, discos, quad biking and camels sauntering on the beach.

I’m up for all of it.

Kris

A few years ago I travelled solo to Egypt where I would meet up with other travellers for the usual gammit of Egyptian experiences; a float down the Nile, a camp in the desert, and a wander in ancient tombs. This is the continuation of my adventure. KrisAfter the past few days felucca bound I feel like an absolute crusty slug! It couldn’t be possible to be more rested and fed. Basically, the traditional Egyptian sailing boat is one huge floating bed; a bed for eight people with ample room to starfish. A travelling option where there is endless time to read and fall asleep with no restrictions. That’s ALL we’ve done, oh, and lying back and listening to the watery Nile lap the boat.

At times, as the book chapters merged into one, I thought ‘I really must turn over to see if the scenery has changed‘. Deep breath. More contemplation. Pass me another pillow will you please? Surrender to sleep. This has been the pattern of the last three days, but now I’m desperate to move. After eating big carb attack meals made on board, consisting of potatoes, bread, beans, rice, and more bread, I need to stand upright for some time at least.

I became a floating voyeur of light changes, sitting silently watching the mighty Nile reflect the subtleties of the sky. Sunrise easily watched from my sleeping bag as we were docked field side; sunset a prelude to the fireside song of our sailing hosts. I have woken to distant Nubian Village percussion, braying donkeys and the drone of bugs. Farmers and boat men have passed with the currents – smiling, sometimes waving, and also lost in time. We are so close to Sudan and the African spirit that this area feels timeless and untouched by modern cares. Like an earthy time warp we’re privileged to be floating through.

We’ve also managed to squeeze in some history, visiting the amazing Abu Simbel, Kom Ombo and Edfu temples en route. Plus a magical sunrise hot air balloon over cane and wheat fields aside mud hewn villages. After a brief city stop we are now heading North, back to Cairo on the overnight train, then the joy of climbing Mt Sinai at sunset awaits us!

Kris

A few years ago I travelled solo to Egypt where I would meet up with other travellers for the usual gammit of Egyptian experiences; a float down the Nile, a camp in the desert, and a wander in ancient tombs. This is the continuation of my adventure. Kris

After a fewpent around a camp fire and a lengthy camel trek, I watched the full moon rise majestically from the far horizon. Cooking lentil soup and rice with the Bedouins and listening to their traditional songs has been an even more authentic experience than imagined.

The luna glow regularly woke me throughout the nights, almost teasing me not to sleep too much, slumber wasted on witnessing the changing stars. The cold nights forced me into my sleeping bag early and each day started as the pink glow started kissing my face. I’ve been so high on this environment and it’s easy to see how the Bedouin gypsy life is a treasured one.

As we fled along the ribbon of tar that slices through the endless sand towards Luxor we have been mesmerized by the constant scene. The desert tricks you, it lulls you, calling you to explore. At the same time being so isolated feels completely safe and wraps around you like a huge camel blanket.

I’ve watched the sunrise each morning like a child; each day the scene has been different, sometimes soft, or sometimes with rocky mountains to climb. There is so much variety in a landscape I could only imagine as empty.

Pure happy smiles relaxing in isolated communities; this is the Egypt of the Western Desert that I have left reluctantly behind. I am now in the Nile Valley area of Luxor where the blinding uber green of the lush fields is welcoming me. Donkeys pulling carts as the wheat and vegetables are packed for market, children running along the road to wave; the papier mache landscape of the dry West at our back. The Nile River awaits.

I love this country!

Kris

A few years ago I travelled solo to Egypt where I would meet up with other travellers for the usual gammit of Egyptian experiences; a float down the Nile, a camp in the desert, and a wander in ancient tombs. This is the continuation of my adventure. Kris

After leaving Cairo and the hustle behind, I travelled with my group of six into a new found chilledness. The Jeep transporting us with every kilometre in to a stress free, blissful desert space. An open ocean of sand that quickly clears your mind completely.

After much sighing and gazing across the vastness heading West, the Black Desert turned to White. A fairy like fantasy beyond my expectations and imaginings. White on white limestone and sand; a meringue and honeycomb space akin to a giant pavlova. As we set up camp the sky turned pink and the silence of the space turned to night.

I helped prepare the Bedouin meal under the cloak of stars – the almost full moon illuminating my mind. Such peacefulness I haven’t felt for ages. Surreal and beautiful – we sat in the freezing night around the heat of the fire and imagined staying for a long time.

Lying out with only my sleeping bag to separate me from the earth was a gorgeous way to welcome the desert with wide open arms. I can’t begin to explain how much I love this environment. Waking at 5am to soft light I witnessed the glowing sun slowly illuminate the day, the perfect time to appreciate the drastic beauty of the luna like landscape. The ideal environment for my thoughts – clean and stark – fresh space always the ultimate remedy.

We passed through old towns born of the earth; rising out of the ground like muddish mountains. We spent a night post hot spring at a Bedouin camp around another fire; listening to Egyptian drum, flute and harp accompanied by ancient songs- lulling me to dream vividly. The moon was at my back – the sunset a pink ribbon against the green field, the green field a foreground to the endless sand.

Today I woke to the prayer call and spent an hour walking through the fields as the morning light spread smiles from the village people into my walking world. I feel incredibly blessed and super aware. And this journey is only days old and I have far to go. After a sand dune slide in the morning and a swim in a local mineral well we are stopped at a local oasis town now. Soon we will be jumping on our camels to ride  to our next outdoor camp site…

Kris

When Andres and I were living in China we befriended an American scientist with a healthy dose of wanderlust. He’s been travelling throughout Asia for a while before he buckles down to do his PhD. Along the way he’s been writing about his journey and recently shared a story that was too funny, and way too familiar NOT to reshare. Because as you know, we believe, everyone loves a bit of toilet humour!

I’ve seen so many people urinating and defecating in public that it hadn’t occurred to me to write about it until I watched a video of a guy tricking cops into thinking he was peeing, a prank which would go over most Chinese peoples’ heads. People are not squeamish about their bodily functions here, which I learned firsthand when I landed in Shanghai. I witnessed a beautiful woman tilt her head back, close one of her nostrils, and launch a glob of mucus onto the airport’s floor*. In Chengdu, I saw a man pooping into a bush literally 5 feet away from a major arterial road. NBD.

I guess this is what 1.3 billion people looks like. The country can’t afford everyone their space and privacy.

People are constantly hawking and spitting around you. I have learned to be wary anytime I hear the throaty “HHHHHHHHHAAAWK” because I have been nearly spit on many a time. You understand why after your body reacts to the pollution and bacterial assault that is China: your eyes puff up and you get a permanently runny nose.

Bathrooms are often designed without privacy considerations. In many cases, the bathroom is simply a sloped trough. Fancier bathrooms have ~3 ft high partitions so that people can have their own space, but there is no “front door” and you are watching your neighbors as you take leave a shit. Often times squatters are located under showers and act as a shower drain. I wanted to take pictures of some of the more absurd ones, but photographing a room full of Chinese men while they are squat-shitting is a bit impolite. In hindsight, they probably would not have cared. I have seen Chinese guys pooping in hostel bathrooms without bothering to close the door (hostel bathrooms have doors and occasionally a western toilet to appease westerners).

I can’t help but smile when I look back at my post about the first time I used a squatter toilet. Since then I have become used to squatters (having spent weeks without seeing a western toilet) and have had far grosser encounters with human waste. It took some getting used to going from a country where we fastidiously clean up our dogs’ poop to a country which is a large human poop minefield.

The farther west you go in China, the higher frequency in disgusting bathrooms and poop stories. Especially on the trains. A backpacker I met witnessed a woman in a Yunnan train helping her little kid poop in the bathroom: carrying the kid at the entrance of the bathroom, she took aim and fired a volley from her poop gun onto the bathroom floor.
Actually, babies and toddlers are a great source for poop encounters. They don’t use diapers. Instead, their pants have a large hole in the back, their butts ready for a quick shit. You gotta feel sorry for kids enduring the Beijing winter, all bundled up with their butts exposed to the elements. Potty training consists of mom crouching on a sidewalk, holding the kid up in between her spread legs, and waiting impatiently for the kid to finish.

One day as I exited a Bank of China, a kid squatted and start shitting on the marble steps. Mom ran over and giddily started hopping up and clapping her hands, cheering. As far as I can tell, only adults use diapers when they migrate back to their homes for the holidays, on trains so crowded they are required to stand packed for several days and take standing shits.

I have picked up the habit of public urination. Everyone does it, it doesn’t harm anyone, and it’s super convenient. Public toilets can be elusive and evocative of a Lovecraftian horror. So disgusting that once I walked back outside and pissed against the side of the building. Even pandas develop strange urination habits in China.

Mental note: stop peeing in public and slurping your noodles when you go back home. But, hey, at least I don’t litter like everyone else here does…

A note on hand washing: it doesn’t happen. I try not to think about it when I see a cook peeing behind their restaurant. Also, paper is almost never provided at bathrooms, or even restaurants. Everyone carries around little tissue packets on their person at all times.

*The “ground” as a concept is a realm where dirty and unwanted things such as garbage, unfinished food, and bodily fluids are dumped without second thought. And I don’t just mean outside: people spit and discard cigarette butts on the floor of restaurants, trains, and buildings in general.

Have a funny poop story? Of course you do. Share it with us in the comments!

Richard

PS: You can read more of his words and connect with Richard on his Facebook Page.

Hanging out with two friends I’ve known for over twenty years, Andres and I made the most of a visit to the coastal town of Noosa by hitting the waterways. Basically we spent three days doing what typical Aussie boys do; skurfing behind a high speed boat, cruising the river, playing pub games, barbecuing meat and drinking beer. We had a super chilled weekend and these are my photographic musings. It’s a gorgeous time of year in Noosa – get up there!

Kris

A few years ago I travelled solo to Egypt where I would meet up with other travellers for the usual gammit of Egyptian experiences; a float down the Nile, a camp in the desert, and a wander in ancient tombs. This is the continuation of my adventure straight out of my old emails to family. It’s such an incredible country I wanted to reshare my journey. Kris

It’s not every day you wake up and think ‘I’m off to visit the Pyramids today’. But how cool is that? So with much excitement and years of preconception built up in my romantic imagination I headed to the the last remaining ancient wonder for a good look around.

I have learn’t that expectation can get you into all kinds of trouble, and the Great Pyramids of Giza are pretty surreal for want of a bigger superlative. They are massive, they are sand blown, and they are swarming with people. I know it’s not de riguer to slag the pyramids, but overall I felt a little underwhelmed by the state of affairs on the site.

Of course it’s curious as to how the pyramids were constructed, and to think about how passionate the Pharaohs must have been about their  spiritual conviction to create them. But for me, I have thought about seeing them for so long that I have probably shot myself in the foot.

Unfortunately the pyramids are covered in rubbish; even as you walk in to the tunnels and gaze into the lower shafts, plastic is the first thing you see. This tainted my overall experience and infuriated me. And when tourists ignore the no camera rule and snap away for the sake of capturing themselves inside the dark inner tomb, I can’t help but say something. Quite loudly. I believe if you can’t even respect the old stuff we are trying to preserve on the planet then what hope have we?

Above ground are the gaudy souvenirs – akin to mini Eiffel Towers in Paris and shiny little Taj Mahals in Agra. But the mystique is quickly broken by pedlars constantly thrusting a miniature pyramid in your face as you tried to walk around the site. And they are relentless sales people.

Having said all that I was swept away in the remaining part of my idealistic brain by the cliches long written about. The idea of standing on a site of such history, the camels noisily running around; donkeys being pulled about by small children and the warm wind whipping around the pointy bits against the beige sky.

So just to make sure I took it all in, some new travelling friends and I are heading back for the disco version of the pyramids tonight – the Sound and Light Show. If the sound track accompaniment includes ‘Walk like an Egyptian’ I’m going to bust a lung. Apparently it’s pretty fantastic, oops there’s that expectation creeping in…

Kris

The other night Andres and I had the pleasure of eating with good friends – one being a chef of fancy proportions home on a flying visit, and eager to get stuck in to the kitchen. And like most men reunited with familiar home comforts, Chef Andy thought a beer matched feast was in order. Who were we to stay no?

It reminded us of the strong association we have to the pleasure of yeasty drinks. Harking from our European roots, most Aussie’s like a cold one at the best of times. What we didn’t realise was how well beer goes with, well, everything.

We’ll let the pictures do the talking and provide you with some beers to explore and the foods that they happen to enhance so nicely, or is it the other way around?

The menu  – click on the beers for further inspiration

• Australian mussels cooked in beer and garlic; washed down with a selection of Stone & Wood Pacific Ale, some Burleigh Brewers 28 Pale and 4 Pines Pale Ale

• Roast pork belly, cunchy crackling, buttery beans and caramelised onion tart. Savoured with a small keg of Bridge Road, Chevallier Saison and 5 A.M Saint, Brewdog

• French toast with chocolate ganache – sprinkled with some 80% quality dark chocolate. Ridiculously tasty with a small keg of Bacchus Brewing Schwarzbier

• A selection of soft cheeses, heavy on the blues, lingered over with Renaissance Stonecutter and Holgate Double Trouble

All we’re trying to say is, if you love beer, why stop and switch to wine when you can keep up the heady love all the way through to dessert!?

Kris

A few years ago I travelled solo to Egypt where I would meet up with other travellers for the usual gammit of Egyptian experiences; a float down the Nile, a camp in the desert, and a wander in ancient tombs. This is the start of my adventure straight out of my old emails to family. It’s such an incredible country I wanted to reshare my journey. Kris

Talk about hit the sand smiling! After a better than normal flight I was pleasantly greeted by a jovial and rather rotund Wajit. Flying in over the vast desert – a study in beige unfolded below. Quickly I was whisked through to the central city of early sunrise morning and my buzz started to build.

My limited Arabic learned affectionately from an old friend flooded back. My few words where met with such enthusiasm that Wajit insisted on taking me for breakfast – food being one of my favourite cultural endeavours how could I refuse? His ‘local’ served apparently ‘the best’ version of felafel, foul (beans) and potato salad all wrapped in bread. Followed by tea and apple shisha watching the morning unfold, I felt overwhelmingly welcomed.

After politely forcing down three times as much breakfast as I would normally eat I was dropped to my hotel. If my first impression was this warm I was in for a fantastic experience. The blaring tunes that roared from the car, the driver, Wajit and I singing a song I happened to know from a world music CD – everything combining to buoy my decision to visit this desert land.

A day in Cairo goes something like this…

Waking to what sounds like an incredible argument to find animated men playing backgammon with passion at high volume. Standing in a packed train carriage on the underground, black eyes staring at me from every direction – seemingly the only woman heading city bound. Drinking water and tasting sand. Watching out for pedestrian pot holes.

Wandering for hours through a cavernous museum and trying hard to appreciate just a snippet of Egypt’s ancient vast history. Eating juicy mandarins from a wide eyed child. Sipping shai and smelling sweet apple sheesha fumes. Smiling at the shy and proud women with clothed heads and envying their sand protective dress. Savouring kushari – a mix of rice, lentils and noodles spiced with chilli sauce.

Drinking fresh hand pressed orange juice from the street. The smell of warm bread as a cyclist rides by with it balanced on his head. Playing chicken with the traffic. Hungry cats. Sore eyes and very dirty feet. Crackly loud speakers blaring the call to prayer five times a day. Working out that saying ‘No English’ gets rid of most would be followers. Loving that. Exploring the local supermarket and dreaming of the cooking possibilities!

All I can shout to my inner voice is Yallah Egypt – I’m ready!

Kris

PS: If you’re wondering about the strange hair fashion I’m wearing; I was trying to be respectful. Covering yourself from wrist to ankle also keeps things nice for international relations.

The other day I was involved in a celebration and exhibition at the State Library of Queensland based on the sheer passion Australian’s have about drinking tea. It made me sentimental for the ‘brew’ I grew up sipping with my English born grandmothers.

I realised, like a lot of Aussies, that we are closely linked through sensory experiences to memory, culture and habit. It reminded me that tradition is as much a part of our heritage as sport, music and social history.

Australian culture is now one of the most multi-cultural influenced countries on the planet, but if you look back over our brief history it all started with a stiff upper lip and lots of British imported tea. People traded leaves, cut out coupons in exchange for kitchenware and bonded over an afternoon tea.

The tradition is as loose and colloquial as a Bushmans ‘billy’ prepared over a rough fire; and as fancy as a group of women holding pinkies in the air and discussing life over cupcakes and cucumber sandwiches. Both very Australian.

We hold English tradition close to our hearts here – no matter how much has changed over the passing of time – somehow some parts of our culture are intrinsically tied to the Poms.

As it was the other day, standing around with a group of Senor Australians drinking tea, taking photographs of the event and capturing the occasion, I felt very sure that with all the tea blends on offer I should choose the one closest to my memory of home. Kind of like sticking to the football team you grew up with.

If you want to get back to your tea drinking roots you can visit the State Library of Queensland for the Tea & Me – Why Queensland loves a cuppa exhibition that’s currently on display. Or if you’re a traveller and want to gain an insight into Australia’s fascination with delicate crockery of old (antique lovers and kitsch bower birds alike) then this exhibition is worth a look.

All you really need to know if you’re going to sample some Aussie tradition in the tea sipping sense, is that a few sweet cupcakes, delicate lady finger foods or mini tartlets would definitely complete the picture. After all, pretending your a ‘lady’ occasionally is quite the tradition.

Kris