It was 1972, my old mate Pete and I worked on an old US army, Willy’s jeep, we rebuilt an Austin Cambridge engine and tried to match it up with the Willy’s 4×4 gear box. After 2 trial runs burning out clutches, we admitted defeat and left the Willy’s behind. Pete bought a Norton Commando and we were off to India. After storing the commando in Istanbul, we continued on buses, through Turkey Iran and Afghanistan. That’s where I ran out of money and had to hitch back, while Pete continued on to Pakistan and India.

In 1974 I was back in Kabul but this time I was able to get to Pakistan, India and all the way to Australia.

Almost 50 years later, I was on a flight from Kuala lumper to Islamabad. Jack the lad had sent me a link, which was a story about a fella on a motorbike trip on the Karakoram Highway in Northern Pakistan. I’ve always imagined doing a trip on a bike with my son, so I replied immediately with the message, let’s do it! I was back in Bali, Jack was working all hours in Vancouver and Brandon, a mate of Jacks from school who would be joining us, was also hard at it in London. So it was up to me to organise the trip. It’s a bit more complicated these days to go anywhere and especially Pakistan. I started with an email to Lizzy at Karakoram Bikers, a company that doe’s tours but also rents bikes to those who wish to go alone. To go to Pakistan, Lizzy informed me, you need a letter of invitation from a tour company. Lizzy was fantastic and we spent the next couple of months exchanging emails, filling out form after form until we had all the paperwork to enter Pakistan, a task I couldn’t have done without the help of first Lizzy and secondly my friend and technical advisor Zoe who I’d met in Bali.

I arrived in Islamabad as the sun was setting, I had no Rupee’s and was surprised to find there were no money changers in the airport. I was soon targeted by a friendly taxi driver who told me he could take me to a money changer in the Blue Zone on the way to the guest house that Lizzy had recommended and booked for me. He was very helpful and made my arrival in a strange land easy, so I ended up giving him the price he started with after the inevitable haggle and arranged for him to pick me up and take me back to the airport two days later for my flight to Gilgit. I was here for one full day, which I’d already decided would be more than enough for the sprawling concrete jungle I’d arrived in. I walked up to the Faisal Mosque the following morning, a very impressive bit of architecture and a popular place for locals and visitors. Being a Friday there were many people wandering around, the main thing for me here was the connection I had with the friendly young men of Pakistan who were keen to chat in English, hold my hand and have photo’s taken with me. From there, another long walk to THE MALL, 4 stories of Globalisation, expensive modern shops, with all the brands you find everywhere in the world, I could have been anywhere if It hadn’t been for the Pakistani way of dress, all around me. I was glad to get back to the Guest house and was looking forward to getting to Gilgit the following morning. Got to the airport bright and early, went through the motions and was sitting at the gate ready to board and was told the flight had been cancelled due to bad weather, bummer!! the weather forecast was bad for the next few days and I may be able to go in 3 days I was told. F***! another three days in Islamabad!!!! Jack and Brandon weren’t arriving for another 2 weeks so, OK, I’ll have to get by in this stinking hot place with no character for a few more days. I could have gone to the bus station and got a share a car for a 12 hour road trip but it wasn’t guaranteed, there was lots of rain and floods and I was told there could be landslides on the road.

I understood the cancellation when I eventually got in the air on a spectacular 1 hour flight through the mountains on a 2 engined propeller driven 50 seat plane with an incredible view of Nanga Parbat that I could almost touch, known locally as the king of the mountains. Gilgit is in a valley surrounded by mountains, today was clear blue skies but I could see, if it was cloudy or the wind was wrong it would be a dangerous place to land. I was met in Gilgit by Ali, the young man who ran Five Giants homestay which is home for Karakoram Bikers and would be my home for the next 8 days, while I waited for the boys to arrive from London. This was more like the Pakistan I remembered, Five Giants was a few miles the other side of Gilgit in a small town called Danyore. I was travelling light with only jeans and clothes for riding, Ali took me down to the material shop, then on to the tailor where I got a Pakistani style suit made, I was going to be here about a week while I waited for Jack and Brandon so now I could sit around in comfort. I spent my time here walking into town, chatting to locals and settling in to the Pakistani way of life. The boys at five Giants are incredibly hospitable and friendly, a trait I would find all over Pakistan. Demi the cook asked if I’d be home for dinner and What would I like to eat, What ever your cooking was my reply. Every day He asked the same question and got the same answer, after that first night I wouldn’t eat anywhere else, the food was magnificent and different every day. One day I went for a walk into town late, the sun went down and I got lost, when I didn’t show up for dinner, Demi jumped on his bike and came looking for me, I probably would have found my way eventually but it was a relief to see his smiling face when he found me, after walking for miles in the wrong direction.

Jack and Brandon would be arriving in the morning, Inshallah, I went to pick them up, an hour late but not cancelled. After seeing me in my suit, they both decided they too needed to be comfortable, It had to be quick because we’d be off on the bikes in a couple of days, so, that first day on the way into Gilgit for a cut throat shave, we stopped in town for material and measure, for 2 suits, I decided to get another one plus 2 shirts which would be perfect for me in Bali.

We got three good bikes, made in Pakistan Suzuki GS 150’s and set off riding, parallel to the rapid river heading south to flood the plains, on our way to Karimabad in the Hunza Valley. We stopped for lunch in the Nagar valley sampling chaps hore, or meat bread and taking in the surrounding mountains. On to Hunza valley and Karimabad. The road had been good up to now, until we got to the first landslide of the trip. There was a lot of heavy machinery and a detour, so it didn’t hold us up much. Karimabad was off the Karakoram Highway a bit, the sun was still up so we decided to continue to Pasu.

We came to a tunnel, off came the sunnies, no lights but I could see light at the end of the tunnel, then came the next tunnel, Jack was up front, then Brandon, with me bringing up the rear, it was pitch black in an instant and I fumbled around and found the light switch, an orange glow appeared, like flicking on a lighter, I still couldn’t see a thing, I fumbled some more looking for main beam and the biked died. Jack and Brandon disappeared into the darkness and I was stranded. It was pitch black, no light at the end of the tunnel this time, there was no traffic, a light appeared coming from the direction I was headed, it was Jack, they had stopped at the end of the tunnel, 3 km away at an opening of about 10 meters admiring Attabad lake, they weren’t sure whether I’d gone passed and not seen them and gone into the next tunnel, also we discovered, about 3km long and pitch black, so Brandon stayed there, in case I came back from the second tunnel and Jack came to see if I was in the first tunnel, he pulled up, I now had light, is there a cut out switch he says, I laughed, flicked the switch and off we went. Jack has been calling me chief mechanic!!! Oh how very embarrassing but nice to be rescued by my boy!! We found a place to stay, the other side of the second tunnel, on The bank of Attabad Lake. A good first day, apart from a small drama, of my own making, the bikes performed ok but no night riding from here on in. We sat on the flat roof and gazed out over the lake and surrounding mountains as the sun was going down, we got a call to go down for dinner, when we returned the full moon was just appearing between two peaks. Pakistan is alcohol free but Afghanistan and Pakistan produce some of the best Hashish on the planet So, after dinner, I rolled a joint, we sat and watched the moon climb up the side of a mountain and continue into the black and sparkling sky. Aye!! aint life grand!!!

We were headed for the Khunjurup pass and the highest border crossing in the world at 5000 meters, on the old silk road, between Pakistan and China. This was going to be a big riding day, there wouldn’t be anywhere to stay up there and we had no camping gear, so, we have to get up there and come back. Passed through Sost the last village on the highway and started to climb, at about 3000 meters, it was getting cold so we stopped, got the jackets out, off with the fingerless gloves, on with warmer gloves, the road was winding and steep, hardly getting time to get into third all the way up. After about 20kl I suddenly got a feeling something was amiss? I discovered my ring, that’s been on my finger for 30+ years was no longer there. Cold fingers, changing gloves, gone!! Ah well!! it’s gone, nothing I can do, I’d never remember where we’d stopped, the terrain had been the same for miles. Got to the top, not much up there apart from a couple of border guards with big guns, howling cold winds and a bunch of Yaks. Walked around a bit to get the blood flowing and told the boys about the ring, ah, no worries says Jack, Brandon’s got a photographic memory, he’ll know where we stopped. Headed back down the pass, with me bringing up the rear again, half way down, Brandon stopped, Jack followed, I stopped, saw an old apple core I’d thrown away on the way up and there sitting on the road, was my ring. Wey ya bugger, looks like I might have my lucky ring for another 30 years, Oh Yeah!!!

We carried on, headed for Pasu, almost there, Jacks gear leaver dropped off, a job for the chief mechanic, Ha Ha!! it had just loosened up and come off the splines, quick turn of the spanner and it was sorted. We found a whole house in Pasu to stay the night, for about $15. Jack and Brandon wanted to find a suspension bridge in the area, after riding down a few goat tracks taking up most of the morning and not finding a way, we eventually got the right track, we got the bikes as far as they would go and walked the rest of the way. The river was running fast, the bridge was about 65 meters long with the odd slat of wood to step on, so over we went, (slowly). We stopped in Pasu, and had a Yak burger and chips, they had a good supply of yaks in a pen on the property. It was getting late, Jack and Brandon wanted to climb up to a glacier before dark. Karimabad was an hour and a half away. I decided to pass on the glacier and go find a room for the night, it would be dark by the time they got back from the glacier. My one candle power headlight was going to be a problem going back through the tunnels without Jacks good light to guide me but when I arrived, low and behold this time there was light in the tunnels. I found a good place in Karimabad over looking a river with more mountain views, settled in and waited for the chaps, who turned up a few hours later. Sitting on the balcony in the morning, Jack and Brandon were looking over at the mountain range, planning how we might get up to another glacier. Off we went, another false start, on a track going nowhere. Went through a small village and found a track on the other side, started out ok but the higher we got the worse it got. These are road bikes we’re on!! the donkey track was rocky and steep with a long drop if we were to accidentally go off track! On we went, up and up, until the bikes would go no further. This was high altitude, my old lungs weren’t up to the task of walking higher so the boys carried on, on foot. I was happy to just sit and take in the vista and breathe the air. After about an hour the sun disappeared behind the mountain and the temperature dropped dramatically, I had nothing warm and was contemplating heading down, when a couple of guys appeared from nowhere, we had a chat and I discovered they were mining for quarts, they invited me to their little stone shack for tea, how could I refuse. About an hour later Jack and Brandon arrived, the gas went back on, more tea and chats, Pakistani hospitality. The ride down was scary, even in first, holding the bike back, it was necessary to touch the brakes and when you did the bike would slide all over the place. I was pleased to get to the bottom and back to Karimabad.

We wanted an early start, our destination, Skardu, when we got to the bikes, Brandon had a flat tyre, put air in, 5 minutes later, flat. Not surprising really after the ride yesterday. So we were held up getting it repaired, by the time we got started it had started to rain, we weren’t going to make Skardu today, Danyore was our new destination. The rain was heavy and we weren’t equipped with wet gear, Brandon almost lost the back end but managed to keep the bike upright, probably because of the bald tyre I’d noticed earlier. We decided to stop at five giants tonight, get a new tyre fitted on Brandons bike and go to Skardu tomorrow after drying out. We got away at the crack of 8, in soggy jeans and shoes, no matter, the sun was shining. The Karakoram on this stretch was good, winding through the mountain. I took the lead today and rode that bike hard, came round one bend to find a huge bolder on my side of the road that had rolled down the mountain, I had to change my line quickly and avoided it but it slowed me down for awhile. Came round another bend and there were a load of trucks parked, we carried on passed, until we came to a major landslide. We weren’t going anywhere for a while. The digger would arrive in about an hour we were told, we went back a way and found a local eatery and had dhal and paratha while we waited. One digger on the on coming traffic side and one on ours had the road cleared in a couple of hours. We arrived in Skardu, a biggish city we had no intention of staying in. A few kilometres out of Skardu is the Kalpana or cold dessert, huge sand dunes at an altitude of 2500 meters that get covered in snow in the winter. We found a good place to stay on the edge of the dessert. Went into Skardu that night to check out the place and had dinner. Chicken, mutton, paratha, raita and coka cola, in a basement, sitting crossed legged on the floor. Also had a few side dishes from street vendors along the way, just loving the food in Pakistan.

Today was going to be a short ride to Shigar, about 50 kl, on bitumen, we decided to take an alternative route on a dirt track through the valley, lots of small rocks, shale and sand but it was the bull dust that threw me off the bike. You get a lot of this in the north of Australia, a powder that covers pot holes so you don’t see them, until your in them. The bike was sliding all over the track but I had control, until the front wheel hit a rock covered by dust that I didn’t see and down I went. No damage to the bike and the only damage to me was my pride, the most experienced rider on the trip and the only one to drop the bike. Got to Shigar and found another whole house and decided to stay a couple of nights and rest up before heading to Gilgit via Diosai National Park. This was the most gruelling road of the whole trip, there was hardly time to enjoy the magnificent scenery all around us, the focus had to be on the road ahead. Any lapse of concentration could result in a long fall down the mountainside. The road snaked around the mountain slowly getting higher and higher we were on our way to one of the highest plateaus in the world at 4000 metres. By the time we got to the top about 4 hours later, we were exhausted but a journey well worth the effort. Green plains surrounding Sheosar lake, all surrounded by mountain peaks. On top of the world. Stopped at the little tea stall for a cuppa, took a well deserved break, before heading down the other side on the way to Astor. Another gruelling 4 hours down. We were about 2 thirds of the way down I was behind Jack, I saw his back end starting to slide, caught up and told him to pull over. A puncture on this road!!! with no means to fix it, we had no choice but to continue and hope to find a small village soon. After a very slow 5kl we rounded a bend and what do you know, a small hut for puncture repairs. The tube and the tyre were shredded, the rim was ok, so a quick fix and we were on our way. Daylight was rapidly disappearing, we hadn’t made Astor, no matter, found a place in the next village, had dinner, by the river and a good sleep. Tomorrow we were headed back to Danyore.

After a couple of hours of off road the following morning, we hit the bitumen, Oh Yeah!! I took the lead again and rode those winding roads hard, all the way back to Danyore.

We were all booked on the same flight back to Islamabad the following morning, I woke early with a message on the phone. The flight to Islamabad had been cancelled, Jack and Brandon had a flight back to London booked the following morning, so we had to get there today. I woke them to give the bad news. Nothing for it, I had a word with Ali, he got on the phone and organised a car and driver for the 12 hour trip to the capital. I’d already dismissed the hundred dollars for the flight, Jack was on the phone to Pakistani Airways having a go at some poor young girl, and whose gonna pay for the car to Islamabad?? Brandon and I were smiling, Jack had switched his phone off when he arrived, not wanting to get any work related stuff and was chilled the whole trip. This morning he was back in corporate mode. Thanks to Jack we all got the money for the flight back, eventually.

https://vimeo.com/762110436 Click link for video.

I Am….The Lonesome Traveler….The Journey Continues….Be Happy

“The streets of London”? (Ralf McTell in the 60’s)

I can’t get the song out of my head as I walk the streets of Newcastle

England was the obvious place to go, I had to go anyway at some point and they had decided to live with this virus, “my thoughts exactly”! After 2 years of restricted movement, I could finally get on an Aeroplane. Not that I’d been too restricted where I was, I’d had it easy, I got stranded in the right place when covid hit and didn’t have to put up with lock downs. Although I still had to dodge them!

12 months earlier :-

I’d already decided not to go up the coast to Queensland, the world was still learning to live with quarantine and isolation. I was seeking isolation. Not the type within four walls but the isolation of vast open spaces, I headed south down to Evans Head, a small town on the coast and inland a few k’s to call in on Doug, he was living in the Hills on one of those community projects where people in the past bought up big acreage and shared the land between them. A fantastic bit of forested hills, where one can surround oneself in the natural world of bush and wildlife. With no power or water, but of course in NSW there is no shortage of rain or sunshine, so that problem is easily solved. Great to see Doug living the life, in natural wonder but I was ready to be on the move again. So! Back on the road west, to Port Augusta, a road I was becoming very familiar with.

I was headed for Darwin, up the guts, as they say in these parts and was in no hurry. I was up there last year for a month and remember at the time thinking, “I’ll be back”.

Thought I might spend some time in Coober Pedy On the way but when I arrived it was very cold. Firstly, I wasn’t expecting that and secondly, It wasn’t as I remembered from back when I was here before in 1982. Back then there wasn’t much of a town and most folk were living underground in the old opal mines, because it was too hot on the surface. So! Spent the day wandering around and decided to keep on north.

It’s a long road with not a lot of traffic, so when I saw the old Kombi van pass, going south, I drifted back in time to 82, when Susy and I were heading south in an old Kombi, loaded up to the hilt, with trestle table, for the markets, bikes and all manner of things. By then we’d been up the east coast, across the top and were heading down the guts to Adelaide. The Kombi was struggling, I kept looking in the rear view mirror, to see if the black smoke pouring out of the exhaust was getting any worse, wondering if we were going to make it all the way? We did! But we weren’t going any further until some serious work was done on the van.

We found a camp site, set up the old tent we had, the trestle table became my work bench and the engine came out. Three months later, after pulling the engine apart and rebuilding it, we were on our way west to Perth. The motor Purrrring and raring to go. That was the beginning of thirty years of residence in Perth WA.

Didn’t bother doing the extra 600kls there and back from the highway to Uluru, (been there done that when you could climb it) just kept going to Alice, It was still too cold for my liking, I was more interested in being warm at that stage, which didn’t really happen till I got close to Katherine, about 300 kls from Darwin.

Rolled into Darwin in the afternoon, had a shower and went down to Deck chair cinema on the harbour, one of my favourite spots for cooking and eating dinner at sunset and if there was something good on, I could go and watch it. Chris and his best friend Josephine where there doing the same. I’d met them last year so I was already feeling at home, Jo, Chris told me, wasn’t well, something to do with her Kidneys and the vet had wanted to put her down but he couldn’t do it. I was talking to him on the phone 8 months later, long after leaving Darwin and Jo had recovered and was doing fine.

They were looking after a friends place out in the bush where there was 3 ships containers, big water tanks, and a half built dwelling up high, looking over the hills for miles. They were sleeping in the middle container, another had tools and building materials in it, the third had lengths of metal and timber and a 4 metre long Olive Python as thick as my arm, a few smaller carpet pythons and a family of echidnas. We were sitting round the camp fire one night and out she came slithering passed our feet looking for warmth I guess. “Don’t worry Chris said, they’re not poisonous, but don’t get too close coz they can squeeze the life out of you and if they get their jaws around your ankle they will crush your bones”. “Thanks a lot! I’ll keep the van doors closed tonight”!!

Down south NSW and Victoria were having lock downs, for months at a time, Victoria was on it’s sixth, the media was in a frenzy, the politicians were giving daily updates on how many deaths there were and how thousands were infected but the Top End, was Covid free. Until it wasn’t!

They had one case and Darwin locked down, fortunately I was about an hour up the highway, on one of my many trips out bush, when I heard the news on the radio, so dodged that one. It only lasted a week and things got back to normal again in time for my return.

In mid August it was time for my second vaccination and the humidity was beginning to get uncomfortable, so a week after the jab it was time to head south, it was still a bit early to go too far south, so Broome was the next stop. The W A border had been shut for a year and a half, to most Aussie states, but because I’d been in NT for 4 months, with the right paperwork, which I thought I had, I was allowed in. On arrival at the border I needed proof I’d been in the N T for the last 15 days, “got this receipt for a service on the van”, “sorry son, that was thirteen days ago! 2 days short, You got no hotel receipts”? “Been living in the van your worship”! “pieces of paper I don’t collect but I have been tapping my debit card for the last 4 months”, “that’ll do he says”. Trouble was my old 3G phone couldn’t pick up the internet to get into my bank, so had to go back 200kl’s to the last roadhouse, to get the internet, take photo’s of my bank transactions, 200kls back and he let me through. “Oh! the trials and tribulations” can’t complain, some people have been locked up for months on end!!!!

Broome :- Cable Beach, Camels at sunset, Stairway to the moon and much more, There were many young van dwellers from all over the globe, who like me, got stranded in Oz, thanks to covid and had travelled north, to avoid the lock downs in the south, there was work to be had at the many hospitality venues around town and they hung around town beach and cable beach during the day when not working and found somewhere out of town at night, to sleep, dodging the rangers, who prowled around at sunrise trying to catch them sleeping in their vans and fine them $100. At $50 a night to park in the van park, who could blame them, If they were to charge $10 to park their vans, which would be reasonable in my eyes, they might not need to prowl at sunrise.

I too was avoiding the rangers who were employed by the shire, the van park I was told was owned by a counsellor.

The humidity and rain was approaching after a month and it was time to hit the road again. It was late afternoon by the time I got away, so decided to pull in to Coral Bay for the night, had something to eat and a couple of beers, pulled into a car park, climbed into the back and went to sleep. It was 5am, still dark outside, when I was woken by a Thump, Thump, Thump, on the back of the van, still half asleep I looked out the back and saw a little man in a uniform, taking a photo of my registration. I opened the door, “Gottcha”, with a big smile on his face, “your not allowed to camp here mate” “I’m not your mate and I’m not camping, I’m sleeping in the back of my car, now write the ticket, piss off and let a bloke get some sleep” which he did without another word and left. I woke up a couple of hours later, a bit peeved, had a cup of tea and give it some thought. I’d been living in the van for 6 months, at $50 a night, that’s getting on for $10 000 minus $100. I climbed into the driving seat had a little chuckle as I pulled out, on my way south, the Bridgetown Blues Festival was happening in a couple of weeks.

It was too cold in Newcastle, I got the train down to London.

So, how can you tell me your lonely

And for you that the sun don’t shine?

Let me take you by the hand

And lead you through the streets of London

I’ll show you something to make you change your mind

I Am…. The Lonesome Traveller…. The Journey Continues….Be Happy!

It took me two months to find the van, normally, that would drive me crazy, I’m not a great fan of searching for second hand vehicles and often would just buy something to get it over with. It had to be right though and I knew the right one was out there, I just had to find it. I was staying in Serpentine, an hour south of Perth, Brents place, 5 acres of countryside with a horse in the paddock, swimming pool, birds, Rommel the Bull Mastiff and peace and quiet. I was a pool guy again and after a few years sitting on my veranda watching Wayan doing my pool in Bali with a beer in hand, now Brent could watch me. A couple of times a week it was no hardship to go for a ride on the Triumph and drop into a few places to look at yet another van. After 2 months I came across the VW Transporter, looked good, drove well and the price was right, so I bought it and was sure I’d done well. The back seats had to come out and it was turned into a camper, very basic but all I need is a bed, a kitchen, bit of a desk, some shelving, a fridge and power to run the fridge. All that took another 2 months and I was ready for the off.

I’d like to blame the van but it was all my fault!! I stopped off in Manjimup for the night at Pete and Julies and hit the road the following morning. It was great to be mobile again but I was definitely not in Lonesome mode yet. I was about 100kl west of Esperance, it was going to be dark soon so pulled into an off the road parking spot, got in the back and realised I needed to be facing the opposite way so my head would be higher than my feet. The side door was open slightly when I started her up turned her round and braked. The door flew back and just kept going until it and a few bits and pieces ended up on the ground. I gaped at what I had just done and said to myself, cos there was no one else around to say it for me, You F…ing Eejit!!!!

The door was Heavy, I got it off the ground and up against the side of the van but there was no way I was going to get it into position and get three lots of wheels into runners, and it wouldn’t fit into the hole to get it to Esperance, so I was stuffed. Not a thing I could do about it, so I cracked open a beer, sat and stared at the almost full moon and decided to forget about it till morning. Just as I was about to climb in the back for the night, I heard the Truck pulling in. “G’Day! Staying the night? this is the best spot along this stretch of road”. “That was the plan” I said, “Where you headed?” I’m delivering this load to Esperance tomorrow. “My door fell off”!! He wandered over, “Where are you headed?” “Byron Bay” “Your facing the wrong way” I explained what happened, “Better get it back on then” he said. The two of us got it back on, Thank you Tom the Truckie. The following morning as the sun was rising I stuck my head out the window, Tom was already on the way to Esperance.

I only had 5 days to get to Byron if I was to get to the Blues Festival so off I went. Norsman is the beginning of the long haul to South Australia and once there it’s just driving, stopping to fill up driving filling up sleeping, pretty soon you hit the Nullabour (the treeless plain) and the longest straight road in Australia, 145kl, the sign said as I was passing. I heard on the news, Brisbane had some new covid cases!! Ah Ha! On through SA to Broken hill and NSW, I was on this road in 2013, I realised, coming the other way after picking up the Harley that I’d shipped to Brisbane from New Jersey. I had 4 days that time to get to a wedding in WA and I made it, Just. Brisbane was in lock down, one of the new cases had spent some time in Byron Bay but was now back in Brisbane. Mmmm!! The towns are more plentiful now and once past Cobar, it happens slowly but the countryside changes and just gets richer and richer everything is green rather than brown. The country begins to get hilly there are more roads to choose from, I’d forgotten what beautiful country it was in northern NSW. The nurse who was in Byron with Covid had passed it on to a bloke in the pub, this doesn’t look good!! I was no longer in such a hurry to get to Byron. I’d rung VW in Lismore to book the van in for a service after Easter. I stopped there for the night To check the place out and wait for more news. It was Wednesday the 31 March, Byron wasn’t locked down yet, so I made the short journey, the festival was starting tomorrow. On Wednesday afternoon the festival was cancelled. Byron was taking precautions, the mask was back on the face but places were still open.

I woke up on Thursday with no Blues to go to, messaged my friend Maggi who lives here, no answer, decided to go up to Nimbin. Lots of NSW had been flooded this last week and on the road up there, the rain came down and it was magical, the winding road through the forest, up the mountains down into the valley’s, the rain belonged there.

When I arrived in Sydney in the early 70’s, there was a house in Lavender Bay on the harbour, an old timber house. The occupants were a bunch of travellers from all over the globe and they changed all the time, as people came and went. I have no idea who signed the lease and paid the rent. I didn’t live there but was there most of the time. Jock used to appear, spend a couple of months and disappear again up to Nimbin, there was always plenty of weed when Jock was around. Back then Nimbin was becoming the cannabis counterculture, Today the hippies are still there, the social experiment continues, with communes still going, weed in abundance, rainbows painted on most shops and buildings and placed in the middle of the mountains, it’s like going back in time. I arrived around lunch time, got out the brolly and walked down one side of the street and back up the other side, half an hour at most. Not one offer of buying the local commodity, What’s wrong with me I thought? Ok, I’ll go have a beer and a bit of lunch, on my way to the pub, Pssst! need anything? Pssst wanna buy some weed, Pssst! You looking? Ah! That’s Better!

I got a call from Maggie who said to come to her place, I stayed in Nimbin that night and headed back to Byron the following day, Good Friday. Maggie and I have crossed paths many times, starting in Cornwall in the 70’s, her timber house in Byron is set amongst the trees, so when she invited me to stay for a few days of course I said yes, the van was booked in for Tuesday, a weekend sitting on her balcony watching the rain and catching up, sounded good, then I would go north to warmer climes.

In the service they discovered oil in the cooling system, a common fault for the Transporter apparently, Earliest they could get it done was 2 weeks and don’t drive it far! the door, they said, couldn’t be fixed and sent me to a body shop on the other side of town. They said, come back in a couple of days. How far is far, I should have asked? Back to Byron, Maggi had no problem with me staying another couple of weeks and was happy for the company. Couple of days later back at the body shop the guys were looking at the door. “Have you seen this oil leak” he asks? He showed me the oil on his workshop floor and all over the engine, I’d driven about 100kl since the service, how far is far?? This car should have never left the workshop!!!! I left it where it was and the body shop fella took me up to VW to speak with the head mechanic, he’s still telling me I can drive it to Byron and can bring it back in 2 weeks!!! I told him I’m not driving it anywhere and left them to sort out how to get it back to his workshop. Two weeks of early morning beach walks, country drives for pub lunches, (in Maggie’s car) and catching up on old times was nice.

The van was booked in for the 21^st, I wrung them on the 20^th to make sure they had it at the workshop, Yes, fantastic! Should be ready on the 22^nd then, I will ring when it;s ready, I was told. On the 22^nd I get the call, They are waiting for a bolt to arrive, might be ready next week!!!!! The bolt wouldn’t arrive for 2 months so they used the old one, after three weeks I had the van back, the door is half fixed, I have a new water cooler but there is still oil in the water, although only a trace so $2500 for half a job but all I wanted was to get the VAN away from these clowns, I’ll find a back yard mechanic next time I need some work done. I said my farewells to Maggi, left Byron and stopped for supplies in Lismore, I was on my way west, headed for SA for a trip up the middle, then realised I was getting low on supplies I might have difficulty getting once on the road.

It was Mardi Grass in Nimbin this weekend, I should have a look before I head off, I arrived on Thursday, Friday, the small village in the mountains had road blocks going in and out, the swat teams were wandering about in their flack jackets, with guns, and surly looks and the hippies were smiling, smoking their weed, dancing in the street and generally having a good time ignoring them.

It’s a very political festival, Australia’s version of Canada’s 4 – 20 which I happened upon a few years ago in Vancouver. These days marijuana is legal in many countries, in Vancouver one walks into a shop and buys what they want. In Australia, the government sends in Swat teams to keep the peace, Ha Ha Ha, guess they don’t know the counter culture is all about peace. I couldn’t leave, I’d sampled some of the delights whilst there, THC stays in the system for days, weeks, months, depending on many things, so if you smoked a joint last week it can still be in your system a week later. If your tested and positive, you lose your car for 24 hours and possibly your licence. For smoking a joint last week?? It was all over on Sunday but on Monday the boys in blue were still blocking the road out. On Tuesday I got up at 5am and sneaked out. Another night in Byron and I was on my way to warmer climes.

I Am….The Lonesome Traveller….The Journey Continues….Be Happy!

The road south from Cairns is acres and acres of sugar cane, brick chimneys billowing white smoke and road works. I had no plans to stop anywhere apart from to sleep but stopped many times to hang around at traffic lights on the open road.

A few days later I rolled into Noosa, another old play ground, from my time living in Sydney in the seventies. The Sunshine coast back then wasn’t very populated except for surfies, These days you have to drive around for a couple of hours to find a parking spot in Noosa. I continued further down the coast to Coolum, where I was looking forward to visiting old friends. People come and people go, some people though, stay with you. One of the joys of travel is to run into people who are part of the journey. Toni was one of the first people I met when I arrived in Sydney and we became good friends. She married Philip and over the years I’ve knocked on their door on occasion as I pass through, Philip is the architect of this site that allows me to write these stories.

After a few days of catch up, it was on to Brisbane to see Jim, Jim goes back to the class room at High Felling Secondary Modern in the sixties, we went on a school cruise to France, Spain Portugal and Gibraltar. I’ve been wandering about ever since and we’ve crossed paths on many occasions in various parts of the globe. Spent the weekend with Jim and Ravina and also caught up with Tori who I first met at the ski lodge in Victoria.

It was too cold down here, I was hoping to get to Byron, another place from the past, although NSW in the south was a Covid hot spot, Queensland Government was allowing, entry to those in Byron Shire just over the border, to come in. I decided not to cross the border in case things changed and I couldn’t get back to Queensland, instead I headed north again into warmer climes. Dropped into Peregian just south of Noosa to catch up with the digital nomads. Daniel, Danielle and the young Greasons. A new breed of traveller who aren’t restricted and can live anywhere they choose, making a living from the internet. While there, I got word from Tracy in Bali, an agent I’d dealt with a few years ago. She told me she’d made a video of the house and was getting some interest, I wasn’t expecting much to happen. Onward north. After spending a few days in a bed, I wanted somewhere to hang for a while and get out of the car.

Airlie Beach, between Townsville and Mackay is the gateway to the Whitsunday Islands, a boaties paradise. I checked a few places out and ended up in Bose/Nomads hostel, an 8 bed dormitory with 2 showers and me as the only occupant. Normally, I’m sure this would be filled with backpackers coming and going but because of covid the only backpackers around are those that got stranded here. So I had the room to myself, I was at one of the gems of the Queensland coast with no desire to move for awhile, NSW had on and off lock downs, Victoria was in it’s second wave and was in lock down. I couldn’t get back to WA, The border there was still locked up, the rest of the States didn’t like it but because of their actions, WA was in total control of the menace. I had an enormous playground in Queensland, NT and SA if I wanted but for now, what better place to be than where I was.

I got another call from Tracy, she had a buyer and after a bit of negotiation we agreed on a price. Just amazing!! I couldn’t get to Bali but Tracy was able to do everything without me being there. So once again I find myself homeless. I remember the feeling of being free of “Stuff” from 12 years ago and here I was again. “Freedoms just another word for nothing left to lose”. Bali Cool Property, highly recommended.

A month in Airlie Beach and I had to drag myself away, the weather was warming up in the South and I still wanted to get to Byron. I’d heard good things about a small place just north of Bundaberg and decided to drop in on the way.

I rolled into Agnes Water/1770 on a beautiful Saturday morning, drove around and decided the weekend I was going to spend here, wasn’t going to be enough. Checked out the YHA, this time I was offered a 4 bed dorm and again it was mine alone at a very reasonable weekly rate. Managed by Greg, an older guy who ran a tight place and employed a great bunch of young people from all over the Globe doing a variety of jobs. I felt very at home here and would end up spending a couple of months. My beach was a 200m walk through the bush with a bit of surf to play in. A population of about 2500 with great bush walks, deserted beaches and temperatures between 25 and 30.

Byron was still on the to do list, until I got a message from JB in Perth. Don’t know why I’m telling you this he said, cause you won’t be here but we are having a 50^th anniversary open house to celebrate.

The Padbury Hilton, where I have been looked after on many occasions and partied in the eighties and nineties, where Jack spent a lot of his childhood. What do you mean I won’t be there I thought, It’s only 4000kl away, there was talk of WA opening it’s hard border, which had been locked up for 8 months, I began looking at the possibility of bypassing NSW and Victoria because once I enter either, I would be persona non gratta and probably wouldn’t be allowed into WA. A few days before I had to leave, if I was to get to Perth on time, SA got infected. They too became locked out of WA. Ah well!! looks like the long way round, which would add 2000kl and 2 more days to the journey. I left around the same time WA opened it’s door to NT and Queensland and added SA as the enemy.

Heading north, I left the Bruce Highway at Rockhampton and hit the Capricorn Highway to Mt Isa, a new road for me. Day one was a pleasant drive through tree lined road, up through hills and winding road, down onto the plains and the usual dry country. At the end of the day I pulled up at the pub in Jasper, a one horse town with not much more than the pub. I thought, this place could be Walkabout Creek – the Pub in Crocodile Dundee, a couple of beers later I climbed into the back of the Subaru for the first time in a couple of months. Just up the road the following day, what do you know, there it was, Walk about Creek Pub, It wasn’t beer-o-clock yet and It didn’t look open as I whizzed past. I was outback again, dry, hot, 180 degree horizon and a straight road for as far as the eye can see. Every now and then something comes along the other way and gives a wave as they pass, I just love it out here, an insignificant dot in this vast land. Left at Cloncurry onto the Flinders Highway, through Mt Isa and as the sun was setting I pulled off the road. Climbed in the back, end of day 2.

Half way to Three ways the following morning, I discovered what the dealer had done when I bought the Subaru, Part of the deal was to put tyres on the front, my own fault of course, for not checking but the front tyres were on the back and one of them blew out. There was more wire than rubber on the inner tread, when I got it off, luckily the spare was good, although a bit flat., Craig had gifted me a pump that he won in a pool comp before I left Perth, so all OK. I still had about 4000kl to do and on checking the other rear tyre I find more wire sticking out. Will it get me to Perth? Driving at sunset and sunrise is a liability outback, depending where you are, you might come across all manner of wild life on the road, cows, goats and sheep, wild horses, camels and of course Kamikaze Kangaroos. On the third day, just after Katherine the sun was on the way down and out of nowhere he/she appeared and bang, when I stopped for the night, I discovered just a small bit of plastic missing on the driver side bumper, no drama, musta been a small one. You’d think a bloke would get wise after such a thing- not this bloke – Off I went with the rising sun, still half asleep. Just down the road, I got a flash in the corner of my eye, as quick as it was there, it was gone, flying into the bush. The Subaru was still going but when I got out a few kl’s later to have a look, the front end from the passenger headlight to the door was smashed, I now had only one headlight but scooby wasn’t dead yet. At the WA border while one policeman was checking my paperwork his mate was checking my lights, “just happened this morning officer, bloody Kamikaze Kangaroo” OK! don’t drive at night, “of course not sir” I was back in WA.

On the morning of the seventh day, we coughed and spluttered into Perth. East to West in the time it takes to create the earth, if you believe the fairy tales. Scooby had done the job I asked of her, “It was the Kangaroo what killed her your honour. She would still been alive today if it hadn’t been for the jumping furball”. The coughing and spluttering, I would guess, was probably a plug lead or something but the rego was up in a week and the smashed wing would cost more than she was worth. So first stop on my way into town was the Subaru wreckers, They offered me $350, “see you in a couple of weeks”.

The search for a replacement wasn’t going well, I was looking for a van with a bit more room. Must of seen a dozen rust buckets, work vans, campers, anything I could live in. As I was looking on all the sites, I kept seeing THE TRIUMPH. Two weeks later it was still there, with no sign of my van yet and driving around in an illegal car, I had to do something. I went to see it, 2009 Triumph America a year newer than the one I had 12 years ago with only 10,000kl on the clock but with a ding in the tank.

The price ended up right, the car went to the wreckers and I was back on 2 wheels, a summer in Perth and surrounds on 2 wheels with temperatures in the 30’s? Yeah! Who could ask for anything more.

I Am….The Lonesome Traveller….The Journey Continues….Be Happy

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It was early January when I got word, Mother had checked HERSELF into hospital so I knew it wasn’t good. She wouldn’t do that without good reason, I started to look at flights. I was expecting someone arriving to buy my house in a few days but Mother comes first. A couple of weeks later we were arranging her funeral and I missed the sale of the house because the buyer was back in France. I’d only been back in the house for a month, my tenant had also died early December. A real gentleman who knew he was on the way out but lived a full life, right to the end. I was back in Bali early February and not long after, my old friend Oka died. They say things come in threes but what a start to the year.
Anna Maria, who I met in China came to stay, she told me all about some virus that had escaped from a lab in Wuhan and the Chinese were locking people up and not allowing them out of their houses, she was heading to Romania and I was off to Perth for an appointment with a plastic surgeon to get skin cancers removed, this was end February
In March I got stranded in Perth, the World was now infected.
The surgery went ahead, which surprised me as, elective surgery amongst other things like travel had been outlawed by the Australian government. I spent the next 2 months waiting to leave. Sitting in a friends flat, because by now, I could do no more. I was being saturated by the media on the dire state of the world and how we were all going to die. Perth wasn’t locked down but we were being advised to self isolate and as far as I could go was about 100kl.
I had to get out of there, there was talk of opening regional borders and I could probably go as far as Exmouth.
That’s all I needed, let’s go look for a car Craig!

I wanted something I could sleep in and after an afternoon of cheap car dealers I had a Subaru Forrester, $2,500…. 330 000 Kl, if it packs up, hey! Not a huge loss. All I had to do now is wait for the borders to open, which they did a couple of weeks later. I was on my way.
Exmouth is a beautiful spot, Cape Range National Park, Ningaloo Reef, I’ve been here many times, when jack was young this was one of our playgrounds, swimming with Whale Sharks, diving, snorkelling, fishing, back then we had all the toys, 4 wheel drive, camper trailer, boat, and everything that goes with it. Last time was with Magda a few years ago, which you can read about in an earlier post. This time it’s just me and the Scooby doo. It was good to be on the road again and there weren’t many people around, I Visited a few old haunts and the pub was open.
After a couple of weeks the Kimberly opened up and it was on to Broom to have a beer with my old mate Patrick who is fixing up everyone’s water problems up there. Another playground from the past. On the road to Cape Leveque we camped for 2 months at Quondong Point, about 50K north of Broome when Jack was about 5yo, no fresh water, no power just rugged beautiful country, fantastic beaches and all the fish you can catch. It hasn’t changed much in 20 odd years except there is a bit more bitumen on the way in. A fantastic place to camp and wait for the Northern Territory to open it’s border, which it did on 17th July.

I’d made the trip to Kununurra a few days prior to the 17th a regular oasis in the middle of dry rugged country with Lake Argyle, a man made freshwater reservoir, part of the Ord River Irrigation scheme and if I wasn’t in such a hurry to get out of WA I might have stayed longer, but I was in a hurry to explore new ground, so I was up at 5am and an hour later I was in the Northern Territory. I was thinking to have a couple of days in Katherine but on arrival it was nothing like I’d imagined and after a quick drive through town, I continued on to Darwin. I was here in 1975 when I first came to Australia. On Christmas eve 1974, Cyclone Tracy came through here and flattened the city and surrounding area. I came up from Sydney looking for work rebuilding the City. A very different Place now after the rebuild and 40 years of development. Cities don’t grab me normally but I knew immediately I was going to spend some time here. Blue skies, water everywhere, lots of greenery, trees and a huge variety of birds, no wonder Charles decided to stay here. So what shall I do while I’m here?
I Hadn’t done any Tai Chi for a while, so that became a regular morning activity, my Bahasa Indonesia is shocking for the amount of time I’ve been there, so the library became another place to spend time trying to improve, long walks, on the esplanade, east point, and many other places around the harbour. The car was still my home and I spent many an afternoon in the shade around Mindil beach where I met Chris and Brent, a couple of van dwellers who like me choose to live on the fringe of this messed up, man made world. Darwin is an easy place, I was never harassed by the Police, they would drive past and it’s obvious we are living in vehicles but if your not drinking on the street, they don’t bother you in Darwin.
I was parked on the esplanade asleep in the back of the car one night, unseen by anyone on the outside because of the tinted windows. The pubs were emptying and the nightclubs were no doubt filling up in Mitchell Street which runs parallel to the Esplanade, I was woken by a bunch of young men/boys who parked up, not next to me but one bay away, they were very drunk and loud, one fell against the car, I thought OK they will go soon, just stay cool, his mates were laughing, he kicked the car, more laughter, I still thought they will go soon, then he started karate kicking my mirror, that was it. I climbed out of the car all 5ft 6 of me looking fierce in my underpants, his mates saw me first, ha ha, the look on their faces was classic, they backed up behind their truck, Oh fuck, sorry, sorry, we’re really sorry, one got his wallet out which was full of fifties,(privileged white boys) here take this for the damage, the jerk turned round and saw me, Oh fuck, sorry, sorry. “Look just go and leave me alone Ok! no harm done”. He threw $100 at me and they dragged the jerk away before he started karate kicking me. I climbed back in the car shaking my head with a smile on my face, lay there a while, climbed out jumped in the driving seat and moved the car. They would be back later and I didn’t want to be there when they did. Easiest $100 I ever made Ha Ha!!!

It was getting warm sleeping in the car, the temperature was rising and the locals were telling me the build up was coming before the wet. I’d been in Darwin about a month and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere here but it was time to move on. I’d already been down to Lichfield for a few days whilst here and dropped into Kakadu on the way out, all great country with rivers, waterfalls, and camping but all tourisised for the masses, I could have gone on a river trip to see the jumping crocodiles get fed on dead chickens amongst other things but I’m sure it would be nothing on the river cruises we did in the Kimberley when I had the boat and 4 wheel drive. Some of those rivers were crawling with big saltys laying around on the banks and cruising past the boat.
So mostly I just drove through, checking out the odd waterfall on my way south to three ways. You gotta love some of the names of places in Australia, Threeways ,simple, you can go south, north or east. I would be going east, on my way to the rain forests of north Queensland. I hadn’t looked at any maps, no need, there aren’t a lot of roads to choose from in NT. 5 days later I was on the last stretch to the coast, Charters Tower to Townsville. I had intended to spend a few days in Townsville but after 5 days outback, the flyovers and traffic were all a bit much so just continued on to Cairns. When I arrived in Cairns it was the same so kept going until finally stopping at Palm Cove north of Cairns, took a deep breath and found what I always look for first, somewhere to shower. I must have been ripe after 5 days in the bush.
In the early 80’s we did a trip up the east coast in a kombi, full of clothes from Bali amongst other things, we, being me and my partner at that time, Susy. I’d decided that little import business was coming to an end and with stock left over we were doing the markets as we went, earning a few bob along the way. Kuranda markets up in the rain forest was just getting started, a bunch of hippies selling their wares. So of course, I had to check out the markets, I found a very different market, closed in and without feeling, It’s been 40 years, nothing is quite the same except the natural wonder of the country up here, the rain forests, the rivers, the falls, the beaches, The Great Barrier Reef. Port Douglas is now a tourist town full of holiday apartments, motels, hotels, BIG and small camper vans and me, in the Scooby Doo. I would hang around here for a couple of weeks doing trips up to Cape Tribulation The Daintree River, Mosman Gorge and beyond. Soaking up the energy from this Natural place.

Indonesia decided it would open it’s Border on the 11th September, it was now late august, at this point I was still waiting to go home, if I was allowed out of Australia that is. There are people down south I wanted to visit as I was in Queensland so decided to make my way south to Brisbane. Stopped in Cairns a couple of days, Townsville a couple more but mostly just kept going. It was getting colder, Indonesia had changed it’s mind. I wasn’t going home anytime soon.

I Am…. The Lonesome Traveller….The Journey Continues…..Be Happy

Costa Brava

We had a few days left before Magda started work and I flew back to Newcastle. Decided to use the time for a short trip up the coast from Barcelona to the Costa Brava (The Wild Coast). It could be a beautiful drive but some bright spark in the past decided it would be a good Idea to build a railway line all the way along the beach. Very convenient for the people of Barcelona who want to get out of the city to a beach but the view from the road, is of concrete barriers and ten meter high, grey iron girders and trolley lines every ten meters. You gotta feel sorry for the people living in the apartments all the way up, with the train whizzing past their front door, between them and the beach, only 5 meters away in some cases. Around Blanes, the railway diverts inland, because of the terrain I expect, enter the Costa Brava, the road continues on, winding round the coast carved into the mountains with sheer drops down the cliffs, guess what!! I was dreaming of the bike again!!

The Dogs

It was time to get back to Newcastle, My Sister was making the long haul from Margret River for a few weeks and I had the added bonus of Jack the lad coming over a few days later. Doreen’s little two up two down was gonna be a bit crowded but she, I think, would love every minute. At the Airport in Barcelona I ran into a couple I hadn’t seen in 40 years, they had been visiting their son, only five klms away from where I had been staying and were on the same flight as me to Newcastle, It is indeed a small world we live in. Lyn arrived about a week after me and the fridge was immediately full and we had home cooked meals from then on, bring on the mince and dumplings. Hadn’t shared a room with my big sister since we were kids when she would hold my hand if the bogey man came, I don’t remember her snoring back then! Jack turned up; a night at the dogs to lose a few quid, then I dropped him off to spend the rest of the night in the Toon with his mate Michael, that was going to be messy! We had a table booked the following day for lunch, Jack didn’t make it. It was messy!!!

Play Time

After a few days Jack and I were up at 4am to catch a 6am flight to Faro in Portugal. I’m getting pissed off with these so called cheap airline companies who charge for everything, I’d already paid for hold luggage when I’d booked on line, £22. When we arrived at the airport, “you’ll have to pay extra for the surfboard!” “I paid already when I booked” “we have to take extra care with sports equipment, that’ll be another £40”. What you gonna do? The planes leaving in an hour, you pay! They got you by the balls. Picked up the Ford Fiesta at the airport in Faro, more extra’s. Off we went, decided not to spend any time in Faro, I was in a foul mood, “fucking airlines and car hire companies, why the fuck don’t they put all this shit on the websites so you know where you are”? Jack was sniggering away in the passenger seat as we pulled out the airport “chill man chill!” It took a while but by the time we arrived in Lagos a couple of hours later I’d let it go and it was time for breakfast. “Hey looks ok here, wadya say we look for a room here, check the place out and go from there” “Yeah ok” easy! Booked into a room in town, 25 Euro’s, champion!!! Jack was itchin to get into the surf, we checked out the beach in town, it was a bit windy and he wasn’t too hopeful, headed further afield to Sagres, the coast we discovered, was rugged and spectacular, we were up on the cliff tops looking down on little white sandy beaches, the first place was choppy, I could see he was thinking about going in, just to get wet but it was sloppy, went around the point where it was more sheltered with a very small wave right on shore, that’ll do for today and off he went.

Lagos

Lagos has a good feel about it, the narrow cobbled streets full of tourist shops doesn’t take away the natural ambiance, it felt good there and we ended up having a few nights, going further afield each day to discover more surf beaches further north. Jack wanted to go up north of Lisbon to check out Super Tubos in Peniche and Nazare where he told me was the biggest wave in the world. We packed the bags and headed north stopping at Amado so he could have a surf, it was too good today, so by the time he got out the water it was too late to go further. We found a place to stay in Bordeira and decided to carry on in the morning. Just as well I had a good navigator, we were trying to stay off the motorways which were all electronically controlled toll ways, the smaller roads take you through beautiful countryside and all of a sudden a road would narrow to the width of a small car and we’d be driving down the main street of some small village and out the other end to more countryside. We had to take a big loop around Lisbon to avoid the tolls but a fantastic drive. Got to Peniche late afternoon and headed straight to the beach, Super Tubos; Peniche wasn’t very inspiring and Super Tubos wasn’t real Super. We checked it out the following morning but still only a small ripple, On to Nazare, a big town with lots of activity and a place you could spend time but the wind was howling with very little swell, the biggest wave in the world which breaks just off a point wasn’t even showing itself today. “Wadya reckon?” “nice place but this wind is gonna be around for the next few days” “Ok, let’s head back to the Algarve, and stay in Lagos you know you’re gonna get a surf down there, cheap accommodation, and a pretty cruisy place”. “Sounds good to me” “Ok, Lagos it is”. We headed back south, got lost a few times trying to avoid the motorways but the south of Portugal is void of big cities, so passed though many small towns, great county roads, up and down the hillsides and arrived in Lagos that night, and spent the remainder of the trip there. Jack got plenty of surfing in and I got to spend some quality time with ma boy.

Jack was headed back to Oz, I wondered where to go next, Greece was calling, all the flights were going via either Lisbon or Porto in the north and the times didn’t gel. We decided on a bus to Lisbon where we could get our respective flights, Jack to London and me to Barcelona where I would spend the weekend before heading to Crete. Jack was leaving the same day and I had a night in Lisbon, I’d got so used to finding easy cheap accommodation, I hadn’t even checked out a place for Lisbon, Just assumed I would find a place near the bus station, it’s usually a good place to look in an unknown City, wrong. Jack had gone, I was back on my lonesome so I walked around looking for hours, with no internet and a flat battery I was running blind. Saw plenty of hotels but all out of my price range. I haven’t done it for many years but thought, Ah bollocks! I’ve got an early flight, I’ll spend the night in the airport, I’m not too old yet!!!

I am….THE LONESOME TRAVELLER….the journey continues…. BE HAPPY

Krakow

In the late 70’s I was on a flight from Bangkok to London on LOT, Polish Airlines. Every time the plane took off or landed, all the doors in the overhead lockers would fly open, the plane was shaking so much. On the decent to Warsaw it seemed worst of all, after the wheels touched down, there was an eruption in the cabin as every one cheered and applauded. The captain must have felt like he’d slain a fire breathing dragon…. Phew! made it!!… It was still a communist country back then, so when the plane couldn’t take off again for three days, because of bad weather, I got stuck in no mans land in the transit lounge, not being able to venture out onto the street without a visa….Now 30 odd years later, I was heading back to Poland!

Ms M was in Krakow and we arranged to meet in Warsaw for a few day’s before I went off to England to see how Mum was getting on. Before I left Bali I stubbed my toes, a regular occurrence for this bare footed nomad, this time though, I’d dragged along a couple of grains of Bali sand with me. After a huge walk around the streets of Warsaw, I woke up the next morning with a pain in my groin and a throbbing foot which, when checked, was oozing yellow puss and twice the size it should be, the infection was moving up my leg and anti biotic was a must. Nurse Magda dragged me off to the Medico. The doc we saw, growled at us on entry, got very defensive when asked questions, and wasn’t happy when Magda translated for me, all I wanted was a few anti biotic but this old style god of medicine wasn’t going to allow that until I got X rays and a tetanus shot. I found it all very amusing. Doctors in Poland are obviously not to be questioned, god has spoken! had to laugh at the huge smiley badge on the lapel of his white coat while his face was as long as an Elephants trunk. I spent the next three days with foot up not moving much from the hostel…. no hardship… Warsaw is cold and grey with very little character, just a shame I didn’t get to discover more of the country. After three days, the anti biotic kicked in and I was beginning to walk easier. All of Poland was walking around in big furry boots, I must have looked very English in my socks and scandals. A four hour bus trip to Krakow, where my flight to Geordieland was going from, enabled me to at least get an idea of where I was and Krakow was very different from Warsaw, with a much warmer feel and loads of character, only had one night there but vowed to come again one day. After my two experiences with Warsaw, I will give it a miss next time.

Newcastle

Back in Geordieland, not much change. After three weeks, I was 3 kilo’s heavier. Lots of beer, Yorkshire puddings, mince and dumplings, chocolate and biscuits. Ran into some old faces and reminisced about times gone by and the mischief we used to get up to. It was cold though and my bad foot was itchin’, the road was calling, Magda was back in Barcelona twiddling her thumbs, waiting to start a new Job in a month, seemed like a good time to check out Spain.

I arrived in Barcelona and was greeted by my nurse, travel guide, translator and good friend Ms Magda, we picked up the Fiat Panda dinky car and headed south. The first roundabout I came to I almost got us wiped out. Every roundabout I came to for the next couple of days, the voice in my head cried out, look left, drive right….look left, drive right!!! First night was spent in Tarragona, about an hour, south of Barcelona. I’d come expecting sunshine and warmth, that’s what I’d ordered but it was a bit early in the year and my blue velvet jacket, a very 70’s little number, that I thought would show these continentals how suave we Aussie’s could be, just wasn’t up to the task of keeping me warm. Magda was better prepared and lent me her Brando Leather for the remainder of the trip, fantastic! it could have been made to measure. In Tarragona we sampled the delights of Catalonian cuisine at a buffet with a number of dishes to awaken my taste buds. The following morning we were off, no itinerary, no idea were we might go, just head south and see where the road takes us. I was trying to avoid the toll roads, we weren’t in a hurry. I managed to stay on the coast for a while but somewhere around Valencia I took the wrong exit off a roundabout and ended up on a road inland and decided to keep going, spent the night in a small town where we were able to get cheap accommodation, thanks to my Spanish speaking friend (must learn some Spanish). Sampled the typical breakfast of tostada (toast) soaked in olive oil topped with mushed up tomatoes and a sprinkle of salt, I got used to it in the end but not my usual morning fare. The detour meant We’d missed the Costa Blanca, maybe on the way back?

El Toro

Spain has good roads and not too much traffic, we headed back to the coast towards Alicante, lots of limestone hills and every now and again, El Toro would look down on us from above. Not sure of the significance of this but all over Spain, they stick a huge black bull on the hill top? The Panda was doing a great job but every now and again I’d be thinking how nice it would be to have Henrietta here, even started wondering about getting her shipped over. The countryside reminded me of spaghetti westerns, I could see Clint riding passed with his mean look, poncho, with cigar clenched in his teeth. We stayed in San Javier, that night, I had a pocket full of Pound notes but so far, was unable to change into Euro’s. I am used to being able to change money easily but here, even the banks don’t do it. San Javier has an International Airport, so first stop in the morning was to change money at the airport, no good, not even an ATM??….. “lend me another ton Magda”!!!

Had a couple of nights in a little fishing village, with a room overlooking the plaza and the Mediterranean, watching the slow moving locals gathering in groups passing the time of day. It was getting warmer but the wind was still a bit fresh. Onward to the Costa Del Sol and Andalusia, so far It had been very much a Spanish experience. Whollop! Malaga. For the next 10 /20 klm it was high-rise apartment blocks, big hotels, tourist heaven, the up side was, there were places to change money, I changed  everything I had, coz hopefully this would end. We hit Torremolinos and decided to go inland, maybe we could find a place in the hills, not so manic, we did, a fantastic little place with cobbled paths, narrow streets, brilliant views but nowhere to stay. That was the first night we had trouble finding a good place to stay, back to Torremolinos, turn right, through Marbella, keep going, keep going, neither one of us felt like hanging around here. The sun was setting, that’s late in Spain, around Estepona we began to feel we were coming out of it and settled for a hostel on the main road overlooking an oil refinery spewing out smoke. Ah! this is better. Thought about nipping over to Gibraltar to visit the Apes but just gave it a wave as we were passing and carried on to Tarifa, “I like this, lets hang around a bit.

Tarifa

Tarifa is the southern most point of Europe, as soon as we rolled into town, we knew we’d stay here awhile. It is a mecca for wind surfers but today, no wind and warm, we found the perfect place to stay, with a roof top terrace over looking the port and old town. I spent lots of time on that terrace, looking out over to Africa watching the ferries coming and going, dreaming of another trip, was thinking maybe skirting the top, east from Morocco until I looked at the map and discovered I’d be going through Algeria, Libya and Egypt, to hell with that! On to Cadiz, inland to Seville, the landscape was changing, green rolling hills, olive trees, grape vines and beautiful Andalusian horses prancing around in the fields. There was a rally in Seville, a bit different from the bike rally in South Dakota, The carriages were magnificent, the horses majestic, the costumes elegant, the traffic, because of the rally, was horrific, which caused us to drive around in circles for hours trying to find the hostel. Later that day we were walking past the bull ring, gates were open, so we wandered in. The dead bull was being towed by a tractor out of the ring, the matador was bowing, the crowd was cheering, real hero’s I thought, slowly torturing a half dead bull. On to Granada, as we got close, the snow capped mountains surprised us a bit, maybe we can get some skiing in? In Granada no need to have dinner, order a beer, and out comes the tapas, on to the next place, beer and free tapas, we had a few beers that night, at a few different places!!

Headed east, via Murcia to Alicante, and up the Costa Blanca, A fantastic road, I was dreaming of Henrietta again, following the coast, north to Barcelona. Rock FM was blasting, Steppenwolf, Get your motor running, heading on the highway, looking for adventure and what ever comes my way. Through the many tunnels carved into the limestone rock, the sun was shining, Ah! life’s good. Got to the top of a hill and there in front of us, Fuck Me, New York City, no! Benidorm!!!! OK, keep going, Keep going. We wanted somewhere to spend a couple of days, it was all coming to an end, a memorable journey, Barcelona was drawing near, we found it. Pensacola, a couple of hours south of Barcelona, found a room with balcony in the old town with narrow cobbled streets, overlooking everything, including two beautiful beaches. This’ll do.

I am…. THE (not so) LONESOME TRAVELLER…. the journey Continues….BE HAPPY!

Almost a House

All Done

After messageing me, and telling me how cold it was in Spain. The day I arrived back in Bali I was supprised with a knock on the door and there was that smile again. Magda had been wandering around some of the islands close to Bali! Gillies, Lombok, Sumbawa, Flores and decided to suprise me with another month in Bali, the studying she said, could wait, Fantastic! Dave and Sharon were back in England and it was my turn to keep an eye on the project. I rented a place in Amed and we settled in, Magda did a diving course and she was hooked, I spent a lot of time up at the project, the footings were in, the walls were going up, all was good!

The month passed too quickly and this time there was no question, she’d missed most of the first semester and was going to have to work very hard to catch up. We parted and it was difficult but I had things to do here and she had things to do there. It was January 2014, she did work hard, crammed 2 semesters into one and passed all the exams, what a girl! In April she was back in Amed, lawyering wasn’t for her, Diving instructor seemed a far better option for Magda the Mermaid, so she found a dive shop (plenty to choose from in Amed) and began the many stages to become a Dive instructor. I went off to England for my annual visit to see Mum, When I got back The roof was on and the house was begining to look like a house. We did a short trip to Kalimantan but went at the wrong time. It was Ramadan so every man and his dog was on the road, all the hotels were full, all the eating houses were closed untill 6pm, transport was difficult to get, every thing seemed far too expensive. We ended up on Derawan Island to do some diving and when it was time to leave, we couldn’t get a flight out of Kalimantan to anywhere, everything was booked, we wanted to get back to Denpasar but would have gone anywhere, we tried Jakata,Yogjakata,Surabaya, even Lombok. Magda was on the laptop for hours and evenually, a cancellation and we grabbed it. Kalimantan – Surabaya in Java, we still had to get to Bali. At the airport in Surabaya we tried every airline there was for the next few days, all fully booked, we got a taxi into town and got the last 2 seats on a bus, a twelve hour jouney but we where back in Denpasar.

I got sick, I’d had the shits for about 6 weeks and the weight was falling off me, I had blotches all over my skin, no matter what I tried I couldn’t shake it off. I went to the doctor he gave me anti inflamatories? when I asked questions, he looked at me blankly and sugested I google it. We went over to Oz so I could get some tests, The tests came back, I was ok, nothing serious, I was begining to wonder? A course of anti biotics for gardia and I was fixed. While we were there we did a trip up north, on Henrietta this time, six days, 4500 Klm’s, That blew the cobwebs away. We got back and moved into the house, there was still work going on but I was impatient so we put up with the dust. We’re in Bali, so there has to be a ceremony for the house, to make it safe from evil spirits, Dilly and his family killed a pig, the holy man came round, we had a feast, a piss up, the house was blessed and the Gods were happy!

Another visa run, so where to? “Lets try East Timor?” “Ok!”… A new country since 2002, after gaining Independence from Indonesia, predomenantly Christian after years of Portugese colonisation, should be interesting? Even though it was 3 times as much money to get to, as anywhere else, we decided to have a couple of weeks there. We flew into Dilly and first impresions were good. We walked out of the door at the airport and no one accosted us, no taxi, taxi! no come stay here or there, cheap,cheap, nothing, nada, like we were invisable! Ah! I thought I’m gonna like it here. Walked over to the only taxi in sight, $10, seemed a bit much to get into town, about 5 Klm away but never mind, let’s just get there and we can suss things from there. The hostle was pretty run down, which was no drama, I’ve stayed in a lot worse places in my time but the cost didn’t reflect the squalor. It soon became apparent that everything we did here was going to cost at least 3 times as much as it would elsewhere in Asia, “Ok, lets go to the Embassy tomorrow and sort the Visa’s, hire a bike/car and check the Island out!” Thats when we learnt we had to go at six in the morning, wait in line for 4 hours and do the same the following day, Ok! fuck the 60 day visa, which I can turn into a 6 month visa, I’ll just get the visa on entry when I go back which gives me 30 days then 30 more. It’ll then be the end of October and gives me a good excuse to go over to Oz for the Bridgetown Blues, which I was thinking I would miss this year! We looked for a bike, no one would rent us a bike? we tried to rent a car, $150 a day plus a Klm cost, we talked to a guy who had had the same problems so went on public transport for hours and from his account on what was out there,or rather what wasn’t out there, we decided to give up and fly back to Bali. A very expensive three days in Dilly but you’ll never know if you don’t give it a go!!!!!

Magda had buisness in Spain, I went to the Blues again, got my 60 day visa, came back to Bali, worked for 4 months on the house and got it finished. Found an Aussie couple to move into the house and so in March 2015 I find myself free again.

Where will I end up next? Who knows? not me!!!!

I am….THE LONESOME TRAVELLER….The Jouney Continues….BE HAPPY!

Beauty and the Beast

Between here and there

It was October 2013, they started, the build, Dave was around which was great, he could keep an eye on things while I went over to Oz. My visa was running out, my Bahasa Indonesia class was coming to an end and the Bridgetown Blues festival was a couple of weeks away. I asked Magda to come with me, we’d spent a lot of time together recently and I was enjoying her company so much I didn’t want it to end. She was reluctant at first, so I talked of the wonders of West Australia and got her hooked. I arrived a couple of day’s before her, my son Jack graciously lent me my old truck, which I’d given him three years before. It’s a three hour drive to Bridgetown from Perth, Magda was getting in at 3am, I picked her up and we headed straight down to the Blues, It was dark, nothing much to see, so she slept in the back while I drove. The sun was coming over the horizon, the blue sky had a tinge of red and Magda was stirring, she popped her head up just as a couple of Kangaroo’s bounded across the road and give her a wave. Welcome to Australia Ms Magda.

After all the hugs and how are you’s, it was straight to Pete’s shed to see Henrietta, she had been stored there for the past months and I was itching for a ride. Magda and I had done a trip around Bali before we left on a Honda 125, which is the right machine for Bali but for the wide open roads of Australia, you need something with a lot more grunt. I was pleased to discover Magda loved Henrietta as much as I did. We went for a ride down to Pemberton along the Blackwood River to the big Karri Forrest’s, a beautiful part of WA, climbed one of the big Karri trees and looked over the canopy in awe of the vista, as they say in Costa Rica…Pura Vida…. Back in Bridgetown the Blues was pumping, a great weekend with Pete, Julie and the kids as always, Jack had come down with his mates and drove the truck back to Perth while Magda and I rode the bike to Margeret River on the coast, we stopped along the way for a swim in the fresh waters of the Blackwood River. On to Dunbrough and spent the night with Linda, an old friend of many years. Then back to Perth to pick up the truck again for a trip up North.

In Perth we stayed at the Padbury Hilton, so named, firstly because it is in Padbury, a suburb north of Perth City and secondly, because of the 5 star treatment received from your hosts Jon and Nim Bergman, I stayed with Jay and Cindy in Virginia, this is another branch of the Bergman clan. Jon will entertain you with his stories and philosophy of life, while Nim will cater to your every need, before you even know you need it. Jon born in England but growed up in Statton Island Nu Yawk and Nim from Edinburgh, Aye! Jon relinquished his American Citizenship and is as Aussie as an American can be, Nim will always keep a bit of Scotland within. I love them both. I’d loaded up the truck with camping gear at Pete’s, what I didn’t have, Jon supplied, we were off.

It’s about a 15 hour drive to Coral Bay, our first stop. We travelled at night, not much to see on this stretch, once your out of Perth it gets pretty flat with the odd bit of bush. So drove through the night and arrived in Coral Bay early morning. Magda the Mermaid was itching to go snorkelling on the Ningaloo Reef, so as soon as we arrived she was in the water, Coral Bay is a great place to snorkel, you go straight off the beach and see lots of coral and a variety of marine life. On this particular day it wasn’t so good, the current was too strong and visibility was affected. We didn’t hang around, instead we drove up the 4 wheel drive track up the coast to Yardie Creek and Cape Range. Yardie Creek was dry, so an easy crossing. Magda had been telling me about her beach in Barcelona, where it was difficult to find a space to lay down because of the masses, I’d promised her white sandy beaches that were ours exclusively, we camped that night on the first of many. We hung around Exmouth, Shark Bay and Steep Point, wondered around some of the best out of the way coastal tracks in the North West, encountered all manner of wild life, camped on deserted beaches, swam in the pristine turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean, we were free and it was so easy. I wanted it to last forever but all good things they say!

Magda was going back to Bali to meet a friend coming down from Cambodia, I was staying in Oz another couple of weeks. By the time I got back she would have already left for Spain where she was going to study law. I dropped her at the airport not knowing when, or if, I would see her again. I looked into those big blue eyes and saw the smile, the smile that came from somewhere within, the smile that reached down, in some dark cavern inside me, where I’d stored happy,  grabbed hold and before I knew it, I felt the warmth and I too, was smiling within. The time I’d spent this past month in the company of this spontaneous, vivacious, energetic, adventurous, funny lady, filled me with a  feeling I didn’t want to lose……

Then she was gone!

I am….THE LONESOME TRAVELLER….The Journey Continues….BE HAPPY!

Emma, Magda, Dilly, Dillon, Dave, Sharon at Dillons Bungallows

The first time I was in Bali was 1975, Kuta was the spot to go, a small village, dirt roads, kerosene lights, a beach that stretched as far as the eye could see, good surf and friendly locals. A very special place, with a culture unlike anywhere else in the world, in a word, spiritual. The Island of the Gods, It was a place I couldn’t stay away from and ended up setting up a business buying clothes and jewellery and shipping them off to Australia to sell, which meant I could come and go to my hearts content. That lasted about ten years. It all happened to quickly here. The Aussies, being a nation of surfers, it was inevitable the place would become a mecca for the Aussie tourist, The tourist Dollar brought with it chaos. I’ve been back many times since and have trouble flying over it without stopping for at least a couple of weeks, this was one of those times. I’d been staying with Oka and his family for forty years, in Legian Inn, one of the first losmans in Legian, about a kilometre up the beach from Kuta. I was back in what I consider my home in Bali. These days Kuta blends into Legian which blends into Seminyak, Krobokan and on and on, it’s just all an extension of Denpasar these days, just a big Metropolis with crazy traffic and far to many people but still I come. I’d met a young Yorkshire Lass at the Inn a couple of years earlier, who ended up marrying a Balinese Guy and they had built some bungalows up north in Amed, I decided to go up and see how they were getting on. Dillon’s Bungalows is set in the rice fields of Amed with views of Mt Agung, more like the Bali of old, I arrived late afternoon and my room was ready for me. No sign of Emma but I met another couple of friends of Emma’s staying there. Dave and Sharon had been there a couple of weeks and had found some land they were interested in, with the help of Dilly, Emma’s husband. They were still looking because it was a bit too much for them. It has been a bit of a dream of mine since my first visit all those years ago, to have a little place in Bali. “Hey!” I said, “Why don’t we stick a wall down the middle and I’ll have half” Approved! And so! After 40 years dreaming about it, I finally acquired a bit of land to build my little shack. Looks like Costa Rica will have to be postponed!

The transaction was left in Dilly and Emma’s hands. Dave and Sharon were heading back to England and I did likewise, It was June 2013, England put on the weather for me and in 2 Months I got less than a weeks rain all up, I was beginning to think, If it was like this all the time I might never have left the Felling, until my Mother reminded me of the dark cold wet mornings and afternoons of winter. I spent my time mostly with Mother, driving around the countryside of County Durham and Northumberland visiting pubs along the way, catching up with old mates, drinking lots of beer, I had a great old time and was looking forward to my next visit.

Dilly and Emma had secured the land so it was time to get back to decide what comes next? I was staying in Legian doing Tai Chi on the beach, going to school in Denpasar to learn Bahasa Indonesia and going up to Amed on the weekends. Dave and Sharon turned up, Dave is a builder, he turned up with plans for a house. I wasn’t thinking about building just yet but with Dave so gung ho I kinda got caught up with his enthusiasm and started making plans of my own. Before too long we had a contract with a local builder and my shack had turned into a modern 2 bedroom house.

I was sitting having a Bintang one night in Dillon’s, it was quite late when another lonesome traveller walked in. She looked bedraggled and exhausted, checked in, disappeared into her room and didn’t surface for a day and a half. When she did surface, I met the lovely Ms Magda. She had been travelling for three day’s from Spain on a cheap ticket which stopped in half a dozen airports with hours of waiting in each one. When she arrived in Bali she didn’t take the easy option of staying in the south but walked out of the airport and got 3 or 4 Bemo’s (local transport) up to Culik and walked the final 3 Kls to the Bungalows. Wow! I was impressed, this is something I might have done years ago, not anymore, I’ve gotten far to soft. I was going back to Legian for the week, Magda was looking for transport, so I took her down and introduced her to Oka and the Inn. She had somewhere to go in Canggu that had been recommended by a friend, she was back in a couple of day’s, after discovering it wasn’t for her. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

I am….THE LONESOME TRAVELLER….The Journey Continues….BE HAPPY!