<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:11:11.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The big tour...</title><subtitle type='html'>So...12th October I leave London Waterloo like any other day, but instead of catching the train back to Hounslow its first stop Brussels and then pretty much everywhere!!  Keep reading to follow the adventure.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-5457615350730705381</id><published>2008-09-10T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T10:05:14.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Totally clean</title><content type='html'>After nearly 6 months in Africa and only a handful of hot showers it was beginnng to be hard to see where the sun tan ended and the dirt began!  So, I had promised myself that as soon as I reached Morocco I´d go for a Hamam and get well and truly scrubbed.  I´ve been for a hamam once before in North Africa and the experience was ever so slightly frightening; being told to strip to almost naked then led into a room full of other naked women throwing buckets of water over each other and getting lathered up with soap.  This would all have been OK if it wasn´t for the rather large tattooed woman who then came over, grabbed me with some force as she laid me out on a slab of marble and started to "exfoliate" (er...scrub me raw) me until pounds of skin had come off!  However, from memory the worst thing about the hamam was that you were totally at a loss as to what was going on, everyone else around you knew exactly what the score was but I was totally in the dark....  so, this time I thought, with all my previous experience everything would be OK! Some of the girls at the rather lavish Equity Point backpackers told me about their previous days visit to the hamam, it cost them 675 Dirams and to me sounded like a day at a health spa, what I was after was the real thing, the local wash house that you can only locate through a tip off and some hand signals... so, with a tip off I set off to find the orange building with arches and who could miss such a sign as the scary looking old lady sat outside?  For 70 Dirams I´d ordered the full package and before long I was naked again and being led into a steamy bath house which strangely resembled the entrance hall of Gloucester Road tube station!  Of course, each of these places has their own etiquette, their own way of doing things and once again I was the clueless girl not knowing what would happen next.  This time the "scrubber" (is that the technical term?) was old and tiny and a couple of times I had to lean down so she could get the bucket of water over my head, but her hand was no less firm and before long pounds of black skin were peeled away and a slight tan is all that remains - but, it felt amazing to have gallons of hot water at my disposal and for the first time in months I feel truly clean!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a whistle stop tour of the not so romantic town of Casablanca with its almighty mosque, the buzzing tourist town of Marrakesh and the labyrinth which is Fes I was ready to board the ferry at Tangier and make my way back to Europe.  Leaving Africa was a moment of real mixed emotion, so much learnt and so much more to learn about that most different of continents.  But for now its back to European anonymity and plentiful hot water and need I remind myself, in but a few short weeks, also back to the grind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The route home - Tarifa, Seville, Malaga, Granada, Madrid, Paris and London town.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-5457615350730705381?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/5457615350730705381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=5457615350730705381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5457615350730705381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5457615350730705381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/09/totally-clean.html' title='Totally clean'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-124255231606784996</id><published>2008-08-29T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T05:25:47.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ultimate beer run</title><content type='html'>The bus journey from Tanzania to Rwanda was long and to be honest quite scary in parts.  We headed from Arusha to Mwanza on the Air Jordan bus (yes the clue was in the name!)along the main road, otherwise known as dirt track.  To begin with it was fun, we spotted a giraffe out of the window and we bounced over the pot holes, but as the day went on the driver sped up and the road got worse and something happened which very rarely happens on an African bus...even the locals started looking panicked and shouted at the driver to slow down!!  After a day of recovery in Mwanza we took Allis Sports bus (yes, yes, when will I learn!!) as close the the Rwandan boarder as he would take us.  From there it was a nights stop over at a local truckers hang out in Rusumu falls before catching the early morning bus to Kigali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our two weeks in Rwanda was hard work.  Much of the time was spent trying to work out how we could get from one place to another.  This was made all the more difficult because the phone network rarely works, there are so many languages being spoken its hard to know how to ask someone and there is just no tourist infrastructure or information.  That said, it was a beautiful country and very different to the picture I had in my mind of a broken country, ruined by the genocide of 1994 and impoverished.  The government is trying to promote tourism with the line "A thousand hills and a thousand smiles"  Well, it definitely has a thousand beautiful hills which are cultivated in a way which reminds you more of SE Asia than of the usual chaos which is African agriculture.  Beneath the surface I think there is still someway to go before the thousand smiles completely rings true, but its certainly a country with hope which is clearly looking to the future and of all the African countries I've visited feels the most likely to attain its goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The genocide memorial in Kigali was truly amazing.  They have managed to capture both the horrors of what happened whilst also providing historical context and warnings for the future.  Over 1 million Rwandans were killed in the genocide, they were let down by their friends and family, notably by the church and by the International community.  The UN evacuated ex-pats when the Presidents plane crashed along with Dignitaries of the Habyrimana regime; authors of the genocide - enough troops were used in the evacuation to have prevented the genocide which followed.  Sometimes the worlds priorities just look a a little screwed up.  500,000 women were raped, often by HIV infected men which was used as a genocidal tool.  ARV's have not been given to hardly any of these women who continue to suffer, although many of the perpetrators have received ARV's in Arusha.  One quote particularly sticks to mind; "If you knew me and you really knew yourself you would not have killed me" Felleien Mtagengwa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason the only accommodation we seemed able to find was in convents and christian conference centres!!  All very nice and clean but no beer!  Having recently read the book Blood River and various others about the Congo and East/Central Africa I had learnt that for many Africans the old colonial boarders don't mean much and at some, people travel freely between countries and so the story of the ultimate beer run unfolds.... we were staying at Peace Guest House which of course did not sell beer...we had arrived late after a long journey and decided our only option was to buy some in the local town of Cyanguge.  After a few minutes walking we hailed a local bus and within minutes the Congo boarder was in sight and our bus was heading straight for it.  Fear hit me.  For one horrible moment I thought the bus was going to cross right over and all we had with us was an empty bag and enough money for 4 bottles of Mutzig Beer!!  Getting into the Congo might have been very easy, but I doubt very much getting back across would be anywhere near as simple.  Fortunately at the last second the bus swerved right and came to a stop, you have never seen us get off a bus so fast!  but the adventure wasn't over yet, the town was, well, nothing and certainly had no shops which sold beer....but we are not ones to give up, we spotted a hotel on the hill and headed purposefully avoiding the eyes of the boarder police.  The hotel was padlocked shut but after a few yells up the hill it was opened and we finally were able to order our beer.  You can imagine by the time we got back to the guest house we were definitely in need of a drink!!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drank our beer that night looking across lake Kivu at the Congo, wondering what that broken of countries was really like.  The view we had made it look peaceful and almost Tuscan with white washed houses sunk into the hillside.  For now Congo would be an adventure too far... but that evening has left some ideas in my mind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Audio version of the Ultimate beer run and other stories not to tell your Mum - coming to London soon!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-124255231606784996?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/124255231606784996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=124255231606784996' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/124255231606784996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/124255231606784996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/08/ultimate-beer-run.html' title='The ultimate beer run'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-5864485025032485561</id><published>2008-08-04T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T06:10:08.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A game of two halves</title><content type='html'>After a dodgy start to the volunteer work in Dar es Salaam I moved to Arusha in the north of Tanzania and there could not be a bigger contrast. My time has been spent working with two organisations; Teaching computer skills to trainee teachers at a teacher training college and secondly with WEMA, a small Tanzanian NGO who work with women living or caring for those with HIV/AIDS - with very few resources they do a fantastic job and Dr Asteria, Founder and Managing Director has been an inspiration. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My time at WEMA has been spent helping with future planning, budgeting, fund raising and sorting out their marketing materials but my main role and probably the most satisfying has been working with their Micro-financing programme (an area which I've become facinated in for its ability to allow people to bring themeselves out of poverty). They currently have 52 women in the scheme each paying back a $25 small business loan. Visiting some of the businesses (selling fruit in the market, collecting firewood, small shop, baking and selling small cakes) has been truly eye opening and seeing what a difference just $25 can make to a woman's life and that of her family. Whilst there I also ran a Business Skills course for 20 women which was truly moving - and rather different from business skills sessions I've run with companies in the UK!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saying goodbye to the women at WEMA was one of the most emotional days of my travels thus far, not only did they cook an amazing meal and bring me farewell gifts but also invited a female member of the Tanzanian government (and Board member of WEMA) to officially invite me to become a member of their Board of Directors. It was incredibly moving to witness their acceptance of me an outsider with only a couple of months working with them and it didn't take long into my acceptance speech before the tears were too much. WEMA is a Swahili word and means caring - well these people have certainly showed that, to each other, to me and to their community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few days of Safari doing the "Northern Circuit" and seeing so many lions and so close to the truck...I've headed back to Zanzibar to relax and try to make sense of my experiences over the last few months - and what better place to relax than this paradise island..... not so much of a paradise when my Rucksack came flying off the top of the Dala Dala this morning on the way back to Stone Town causing a commotion, the sudden breaking and then the truck heading back in the opposite direction at break neck speed to recover said item!!! But, body and mind are now sufficiently relaxed to start what I suppose is the home leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remaining journey:&lt;br /&gt;Rwanda, Uganda, Kenya, Morocco, Spain, France and home sweet home :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-5864485025032485561?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/5864485025032485561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=5864485025032485561' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5864485025032485561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5864485025032485561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/08/game-of-two-halves.html' title='A game of two halves'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-6878386417877732329</id><published>2008-06-19T03:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T03:52:00.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chips in my eye!</title><content type='html'>After six weeks living in Tegeta, a rural community on the outskirts of Dar es Salaam in Tanzania I am moving on. The volunteer work has not been all I expected and so tomorrow I move to Arusha in the North of Tanzania where hopefully I'll be kept busy and the volunteer experience will improve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for a little bit of fun and to give a glimpse of life in this part of the world the following are a series of my personal observations over the last six weeks. Some you may think are a little harsh, but they are observations nothing more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Blue band is the only butter, it doesn't live in the fridge and no matter how hot it gets it just doesn't melt. What's in it??!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Mama and Max the two crazy dogs that insist on walking with us everywhere. Who's taking who for a walk in this relationship?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) The constant cries of "Muzungo Muzungo" i.e. white person white person....so annoying I miss being anonymous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Chipsy Mei Ei (and when ordered sounds like you are saying "Chips in my eye" a strange food obsession sold in every restaurant and on every street corner. Basically throw a load of chips in a frying pan, crack an egg over the top and cook like an omelet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Kids who just come running up to you in the street and say "Give me money" and the day it happened once to often and I told the young boy to "F**k off" really not my finest hour! Patience is a virtue :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) How come Tanzanians (and Africans generally from what I've encountered before)have perfect whites even though they wash them in cold, often dirty water?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) The mother and child I saw collecting water with a bucket from a muddy puddle which had gathered in the middle of the road due partly to the rain and partly to the burst water pipe which nobody has tried to fix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Why to people on bikes always cycle towards you giving you no space to get out of the way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) The lack of customer service as we know it! Shop keepers, bar staff and waiters so often look at you as if they are doing you a favour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) How no shop, bar, restaurant, hotel ever has any change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) So often being charged "Muzungo price" i.e. being ripped off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) The restaurants all around Dar es Salaam who don't have menus because they all serve the same; chipsy mei ei, fish, kuku, rice...the only thing that varies is the price and then not only from restaurant to restaurant but from day to day and sometimes from person to person eating together!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) The common phrase you hear so often in bars and restaurants after you have ordered "xxxx is finished" and always so much of the menu is "finished" it really would be easier if they just told you on arrival what they actually have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) Not being able to tell where agricultural land starts and stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) Nobody and nothing is ever on time. People are always late for meetings, events always start late and not just a few minutes often hours. And the phrase which always accompanies their arrival if you dare mention the lateness "This is Africa poly poly (slowly slowly) relax"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Power cuts happen nearly ever other day - where did I put the candles again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) People wearing T-Shirts with the most random words. One lady a few weeks ago was wearing a Thames Valley University T-shirt, others are from American colleges, football teams from around the world, phrases such as "you can have my sister", from fun runs completed in 1998 and new years parties from 2000. Its like watching the last ten years of history walking around on the backs of Tanzania's poorest. I often wonder if they know the significance the T-shirt might once have had to its previous owner? I'd love to track the life of the T-shirts; from raw materials to production to initial sales and then to their current owner. Maybe a website should be launched: T-shirt-tracker.com &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) The longest yet most friendly greeting on earth. "Jambo" Jambo "Mambo Vipi" Poa "Habari" Nsuri. And all that you've established is that you are both OK. Some days it wears you out and other days it reminds you just what a laid back friendly place Tanzania really is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-6878386417877732329?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/6878386417877732329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=6878386417877732329' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/6878386417877732329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/6878386417877732329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/06/chips-in-my-eye.html' title='Chips in my eye!'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-5682697199869195599</id><published>2008-05-03T07:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T07:42:59.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time and Transport</title><content type='html'>If there were two re-occurring themes to our 3 weeks in Mozambique they were Time: or rather nobody paying attention to time and transport: or rather the pain and hassle which seems to accompany all journeys by public transport. Most buses leave at 4:30am, well that's when they say they are going to leave, in reality it can be hours later and when I say bus what actually arrives is often a truck with far too many people squashed in the back between the sacks of rice, fire wood, live goats, chickens and even a bag of live crabs on one occasion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The further we ventured north the more we realised that our ambition to travel the whole country overland including the notorious border crossing into Tanzania was just not physically possible in the 3 weeks we had and if we did attempt it our stress levels would sky rocket out of control, so we made a small compromise and flew from Beira to Pemba (the 1hr flight saving us 3 days of buses) and from Pemba to Dar es salaam (another 1 hour flight saving us the best part of 5 days worth of buses and boats). The experience we had on our last bus trip from Ibo island back to Pemba confirmed that this was indeed a very wise decision! About 10km out of Pemba the police patrol post stopped the truck we were in and insisted on seeing the passports of the two conspicuous white girls...they had soon found what they thought was a problem with our Visas and out of the truck we got following the policeman who had taken our passports. 20 minutes of argument later we were still without passports, very unclear what the problem was and the truck had to leave us...so there we were stuck in the middle of nowhere, no transport and 2 laughing policemen joking about us becoming their wives. With the last few seconds of battery I had left on my phone we called the only person we knew in Pemba, Peter the man who owned the accommodation we were about to go and stay at - hearing the panic in our voice he was with us in minutes along with a local staff member and they two tried to get the police to see that there really wasnt any problem. They insisted on taking us to the police station for the commander to resolve (although we had to drive said policeman as they don't have their own cars!) we waited and waited and then the police chief arrived, so totally drunk that he couldn't even cross the road, in fact he fell asleep on the pavement and so more waiting....Shelley and I were having visions of spending the night in a Mozambique jail (not an experience either of us wanted...especially as there was NOTHING WRONG!!) but Peter was our saviour and 2.5hrs later we left the station complete with passports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many other stories I could tell; of not being able to find food or drink on Ibo Island, the bar that had no drinks, the bus scam that nearly left us stranded, the crazy local Tipo Tinto rum fueled nights in Tofo and the constant waiting around in the early hours, but they can all wait so I have something to talk about when back in London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The route for those interested:&lt;br /&gt;Jo'burg - Maputo - Tofo - Vilankulos - Biera - Pemba - Ibo island - Pemba - Dar es salaam.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep an eye out for:&lt;br /&gt;The Times travel supplement featuring Mozambique and especially a photo of 2 slightly scruffy looking backpackers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-5682697199869195599?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/5682697199869195599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=5682697199869195599' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5682697199869195599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5682697199869195599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/05/time-and-transport.html' title='Time and Transport'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-7202849620088123380</id><published>2008-04-08T03:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T03:52:24.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From vine to Bottle</title><content type='html'>So this was the bit everyone (yes you!!) was excited about...in fact it was the bit I was excited about too. How cool to spend 3 weeks in one of the top wine regions of the world learning to make wine. Well, it lived up to every expectation and more. The Barossa valley is stunning, a truly beautiful part of the world and I was lucky enough to not only have the best guide of the area...yes the one and only travel buddy Shelley, but also to be staying with Chris and Dennis Canute in their home and at Rusden winery. My time was pretty much split between two wineries: Rusden and Massena, both small, boutique and reliant on old fashioned manual labour - ie everything is done by hand! Within a few hours I realised that I was gonna learn more than I'd ever imagined and what with full on long hard days at the winery and even more educational conversations over dinner in the evening, plus wine tasting at the weekends (in addition of course to more decent bottles on a Tuesday night than I've ever had in my life!) and you begin to get a picture of how the three weeks panned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys at Massena and Rusden were excellent teachers and by the end of the stay I had helped in every part of the process completed during vintage: grape picking, crushing, pump over after pump over after pump over during fermentation, testing temperatures and alcohol levels, cleaning and filling barrels and even labeling bottles for export. My old science teachers would have been shocked and maybe proud that I can use some bits of lab equipment at least and my PE teacher would never recognise the upper body arm strength or muscles I now have!! One afternoon thanks to a friend of a friend of a friend (yes this is Barossa life!) I had the amazing opportunity to see first hand how Penfolds make their wine. kitted out with hard hat and bright yellow jacket I got to see the equipment and processes of one of the worlds largest and most successful wineries - the process is very similar but its amazing how little is done by hand and how much is done at the press of a button - rock on the small wineries!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you get the chance try a bottle from one of the following.... leave it until the 2008 vintage is out and you'll have to contend with my hands and feet being apart of the good stuff (well....not exactly but you know what I mean!) and me talking about it endlessly :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.rusdenwines.com.au/mos/&lt;br /&gt;http://www.massena.com.au/wines/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top two tips for other Barossa wines that you really shouldn't go through life without trying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Yalumba D.... such a great sparkling red. However if you can't find this just make sure you try a sparkling red - the good folk of the Barossa shouldn't be allowed to keep this to themselves any longer!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Rockford basket press Shiraz - failing that anything from Rockford rocks the big one, including their winery and staff which goes down as the best of the best of my winery visits&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-7202849620088123380?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/7202849620088123380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=7202849620088123380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/7202849620088123380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/7202849620088123380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/04/from-vine-to-bottle.html' title='From vine to Bottle'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-4515032570222187266</id><published>2008-03-23T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T20:56:50.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaka Uluru...</title><content type='html'>My introduction to the Northern Territory set the scene for the next few weeks - a 36hour bus ride with vast amounts of nothing to look at and fellow passengers who were more interested in where their next beer was coming from and when the Pokies room opened than anything else. Whether its the hot humid temperature or the lack of people that does it I don't know, but there is definitely something a little odd about the people up north! One thing that hadn't changed was the weather and so I am probably one of the few people in the world that has seen Kakadu National park in the rainy season...and boy did it rain! The park lived up to all expectations, the scenery is stunning with creeks, bilabongs and rivers loosing their boundaries and flowing as one massive expanse of water. There were crocodile warning signs everywhere but the closest I got was seeing charlie the stuffed buffalo as featured in the film crocodile dundee behind the bar of a local roadhouse! All the locals I'd spoken to said that the little known and off the tourist track, Litchfield national park was well worth a visit, and I would now totally recommend it. the mighty Wangi falls, the prehistoric wilderness of Tolmer falls and the intriguing magnetic termite mounds with their incredible design; its amazing to think that the knowledge of which direction to build them for optimum light and heat is passed down from generation to generation - clever little species!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A further 22 hours later and I arrived in Alice springs where travel buddy Shelley reappeared as if my magic (at least using one of those big metal birds...) and our outback adventure began. Uluru is one of those icons which you grow up seeing pictures of and have a clear idea in your mind of what it will be like - well, it was better, much much better than I'd expected. It is a massive rock in the middle of the dessert, but it is so beautiful and contains so much history and memory. For the local aboriginal people it is a sacred site and as a result each cave, every watering hole, each crack and bend of the rock tells a story. Walking around it you appreciate the details, its not smooth as I'd imagined, there are jagged edges, caves with cave paintings, visible layers in the rocks geology and a whole lot of vegetation close by. Watching the sunset behind the rock and the colours changing before your eyes was an awesome site, seeing that massive rock illuminated red is an experience which will be hard to forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last stop in the outback was the crazy opal mining town of Coober Pedy. The town is weird! It looks and feels like the end of the world, its crazy hot , dusty and you rarely see a sole above ground. The majority of the population live in underground houses, as did we for our nights stay and that is where they seem to hang out during daylight hours at least. Sleeping 6 metres below ground was an odd experience, although its cooler the atmosphere is very flat - but I think it gives the biggest clue as to why the town folk are the way they are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Missing:&lt;/strong&gt; For those who were wondering if this travel lark is taking its toll here's my list of 5 things I'm missing&lt;br /&gt;- Towels that dry you&lt;br /&gt;- Internet access freely available whenever I want it&lt;br /&gt;- Having ingredients to cook with&lt;br /&gt;- Curry&lt;br /&gt;- Never running out of books to read&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-4515032570222187266?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/4515032570222187266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=4515032570222187266' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/4515032570222187266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/4515032570222187266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/03/kaka-uluru.html' title='Kaka Uluru...'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-1876236015917489153</id><published>2008-02-25T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T00:58:00.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stranded in 1770</title><content type='html'>The Australian leg of the journey began in Brisbane and after 3 months in Asia I was looking forward to a change of scenery and a change of culture, so it came as somewhat of a surprise when I got off the shuttle bus and the first thing I saw was a Chinese temple - and yes, it was definitely Chinese I am now well versed in these things! Without realising I had booked myself into the only hostel in China town! Since then its been Ausie "culture" all the way. Probably the biggest surprise has been just how wet rainy season can be....the picture I'd had of bright blue Sky's, sunny days lazing on the beach and dry landscapes has been well and truly shattered. Queensland is experiencing its wettest rainy season in decades and the floods have been as extreme as those seen in England last summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After soaking up the sights of Brisbane: The South Bank beach, Botanical gardens, City hall &amp; the XXXX brewery tour, I headed up the sunshine coast, stopping in Noosa for a few days of walking in the National park and meandering around the Euumundi markets before heading over to Fraser Island for 3 days of luxury camping and the most amazing tour of the island. The island is full of lakes , rain forests and sand dunes and is completely made of sand (apparently more sand than the Sahara) which is really hard to believe when you see the scope and variety of vegetation and the speed in which the landscape changes from rain Forest to transitional Forest to desert. The lakes are stunning; green, yellow and blue. Several are fresh water which is purely from rain and gets stored by a thick layer of vegetation on top of the sand - they are some of the only lakes of their kind in the world. As well as swimming in lakes and creeks, we walked through forests and went on a bush tucker walk with two aboriginal guys who introduced us to some of the local delicacies and gave us an insight into some of their beliefs through dream time stories - listening to them was fascinating and their creation story particularly is very similar to that of many world religions. Their name for the island is K'guri after the goddess who gave up the spirit world to become the very essence of the island and means Paradise, a much more apt name than Fraser island named after the woman which many say was the catalyst for the brutal slaughter of the Aboriginal people across Australia (today there are zero full blood aboriginals remaining).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a bid to get off the main tourist route for a day I hopped off the bus at a small town called 1770 (yup - only town in the world with a number for a name...prizes for guessing which year Captain Cook first arrived??) other than a beautiful beach, which is the furthest north you can surf without a stinger suit, there is nothing there and I mean absolutely nothing.... which would have been fine, except the rains kept coming and the waters kept rising and the only road in/out of town flooded so badly that I ended up stuck there for 7 days! After watching every DVD Greg the hostel manager owned and drinking him out of tea, he drove us to see the extent of the flooding...and I think to prove he wasn't telling porkies to keep us longer at the hostel! Well, the road was indeed flooded, the bridge was under 12 feet of water and you could just see the tops of some of the road signs poking up above the water. In several spots massive sections of the tarmac road had been lifted by the water and now made their home on the grass banks - truly a sight seen to be believed. There were 7 of us girls trapped in the same position, so although dull and frustrating at times we had a lazy few days and big celebrations when greyhound finally rang to say the bus out of town was running!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other true highlight of the Queensland coast is the Great Barrier Reef and the day I picked for my sailing trip was hot and sunny and perfect conditions for sailing and snorkeling. The reef was spectacular, more amazing than I could ever have imagined. At low tide especially you are close enough to touch the reef when snorkeling (extra care needed so you don't!) the coral is awesome, so many vibrant colours and textures and fish of every colour and size, including several reef sharks, which although not dangerous look pretty scary! swim all around you. A truly awe inspiring day and a fascinating insight into life below the waters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next stop (after a 36 hour bus ride) Darwin and the Northern Territory....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Queensland route: &lt;/strong&gt;Brisbane, Noosa, Hervey Bay, Fraser Island, 1770, Airlie Beach, Cairns, Townsville..... and into the Northern Territory....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-1876236015917489153?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/1876236015917489153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=1876236015917489153' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/1876236015917489153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/1876236015917489153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/02/stranded-in-1770.html' title='Stranded in 1770'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-641755927761805428</id><published>2008-01-28T21:39:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T22:07:59.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A fling with a Sling...</title><content type='html'>14 countries, 2 continents, 14 nights spent on trains and countless train &amp; bus journeys later and I've made it from London to Singapore overland - Its been an amazing experience and a real privilege to see the changes in landscape, cultures and communities as I've crossed each boarder. But, tonight the over landing ends for a while as I board my first plane and make the 7hr 50min journey to Brisbane - finally I get to go to the land of Oz and see what all the fuss is about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in Singapore is like living in a real life Vegas...the streets are perfectly clean, tall trees line every street, the MRT (underground train) runs to time, the platforms are spotless and people walk in an orderly fashion and it is impossible to walk for 5 minutes without coming across a shopping mal which would rival any you've ever been to anywhere in the world! It's a far cry from the other countries I've visited in Asia and although I admire their prosperity and indeed the amazing way they integrate the various people groups resident in the city, it almost feels to clean, to pure, to perfect and as a result lacks the interest or intrigue of its neighbours. however, the biggest reason for needing to limit my stay here to a couple of days is more practical - Its soooo expensive!! Yes, on my first night I did the obligatory trip to the raffles hotel long bar for a Singapore Sling, but at S$24++ a time, one was enough before heading back to the hostel for cans of tiger on the roof!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, having done the city bus tour, river boat cruise, spent time meandering my way through the botanical gardens, rode the cable car across to Sentosa Island and visited the famous landing site of Sir Raffels and the British East India company, its time to bid farewell to Asia and reflect on the amazing journey which started at Waterloo Station back in October and has been a rolercoaster ride which is maybe best described as the longest but most informative history/geography field trip I've ever undertaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now its time to click those shiny red shoes, avoid the lions, tigers and bears - I'm off to see the Wizard....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-641755927761805428?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/641755927761805428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=641755927761805428' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/641755927761805428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/641755927761805428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/01/fling-with-sling_28.html' title='A fling with a Sling...'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-1905241727083589877</id><published>2008-01-25T01:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T02:00:35.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They say things happen in threes....</title><content type='html'>Malaysia is definitely a beautiful country, rich with jungles, tea plantations, strawberry farms and even the motorways are bordered with trees and blooming flowers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could tell you all about the beauty - the amazing trek through the jungle in search of the elusive rafflesia flower, which we did find; its only in flower 3 weeks a year and hides deep in the jungle, mind at a metre wide its worth the walk! -the BOH tea plantation with its traditional methods of growing, harvesting and producing Malaysia's top brand - The full moon in the sky above the Cameron Highlands stunningly illuminated by a mighty lightening storm and glistening with 5 different coloured rings circling it - The man made wonder which is the Kuala Lumpur skyline - and the Dutch/Chinese/british influenced architecture of Melaka....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...However, Malaysia for me more than anything has been a string of accidents: First I got hit by a bus (no laughing please!) resulting in a rather nasty bruised left arm (actually I'm very lucky it wasn't broken) Second I slipped in the bathroom and went flying across the hotel room landing on my right knee (also now sore and bruised!) Third I had a bit of a fall resulting in my left ankle being bandaged up (and no walking for 3 days), an infection in my left leg and I now have one less toe nail than previous.... so all in all I crossed the boarder into Singapore happy to be leaving but looking rather less fit than when I'd arrived in Malaysia 10 days ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who enjoy lists - here are my top Malaysia spots:&lt;br /&gt;1) Proton cars &amp; car dealerships are two a penny&lt;br /&gt;2) Tesco is everywhere&lt;br /&gt;3) A pint of ale costs a rather off putting three pounds eighty three pence!&lt;br /&gt;4) Buddha is never alone, there are always multiples, usually thousands plus plus&lt;br /&gt;5) Buses are always full of random packages&lt;br /&gt;6) English football is on every TV screen&lt;br /&gt;7) All vehicles are potential death traps!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-1905241727083589877?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/1905241727083589877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=1905241727083589877' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/1905241727083589877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/1905241727083589877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/01/they-say-things-happen-in-threes.html' title='They say things happen in threes....'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-1430526125935620576</id><published>2008-01-14T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T21:19:31.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Down the Khao San Road...</title><content type='html'>They say Bangkok and more to the point the Khao San Road is where backpacking all began...  and if you've ever been there you'll know this is probably true - its backpacker heaven!  Shops and stalls selling T-shirts, Tattoos and every type of food you can imagine - the cocktails are served in buckets and it seems nothing ever closes.  I think if you arrived there as a first time, 20-somnething traveler you would probably go totally nuts....ofcourse I was far more sensible :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 2 days in the city, travel buddy shelley said goodbye and my journey has continued via Kanchanaburi, the town made famous by the "death railway"  I spend some time in the mueseum which told of the horrific way the japanese treated their prisoners of war during WWII and specifically how 61,000 of them were forced to build the death railway which was to link Thailand with Burma - most of them were British, Australian, Dutch and American.  The way they were treated was awful and many thousands died of disease and starvation.  Next to the museum is the cemetary where many of them are burried, it was really moving to read the names of so many English men so far from home.  I never knew about this, it was a real shock to learn about this part of the war.  The most famous bit of the railway is the bridge over the river kwai, so next I boarded a train and traveled the 1.5hrs up the track and over the bridge on the river kwai. Having just read about the construction of the railway it was then amazing and emotional to be traveling on the death railway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next and final stop in Thailand before I leave tommorrow for Malaysia is Ao Nang a beautiful beach in Krabi province in the south of Thailand.  Its been great to spend time just lazing on the beach and finally working on the tan, we are surrounded by lmestone rocks and just a short trip away from where "The Beach" was filmed.  I spent yesterday Kayaking on the sea and through the amazing mangroves, its a real paradise, such a tranquil place, yet the tranquilty can so easily be destroyed - we stopped in a cave and the guide I was with spoke about an hour about his experience during the Tsunami - It brought tears to my eyes....when the wave hit he was out fishing in deep waters in his friends boat, they had left early in the morning and came home to Phi Phi Island (v.close to Ao Nang) around sunset, they heard or saw nothing whilst they were out fishng it was only as they approached the island they realised something was wrong.  There were no lights on as there usually would be, then they noticed many of the trees standing tall when they left that morning were no longer there and when they reached the shore dead bodies were everywhere. At this point they still didnt know what had happend... I just can't imagine coming home to that scene.  He found some petrol, got back in the boat and sailed to Krabi where people then told him that a big wave had hit.  He then very emotionally continued that he lost his entire business that day, 2 speed boats and his staff, the boat drivers.  He also lost his home and 47 of his family and friends - like many of the people in this area he wont go back to Phi Phi island he now lives in Krabi and is trying to rebuild his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those interested in environmental issues and effects on the poor, drop me a note and I can bore you with some thoughts on palm oil v sugar cane and the conspiracy to keep the poor poor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current reading material: First they killed my father - A daughter of Cambodia remembers by Laung Ung&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current iPod tunes: Jeff Searles&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-1430526125935620576?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/1430526125935620576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=1430526125935620576' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/1430526125935620576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/1430526125935620576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/01/down-khao-san-road.html' title='Down the Khao San Road...'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-6355026651247269569</id><published>2008-01-10T00:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T01:26:22.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Angkor What?</title><content type='html'>Cambodia is a country I knew very little about... in fact other than the genocide of the Pol Pot regime and something about a big old temple called Angkor Wat I knew nothing. From the second we crossed the boarder from Vietnam into Cambodia I loved it. The difference was so apparent, the people look different, the food is different (and amazing by the way), the houses are different and the poverty is unbelievable - yet the people are so friendly and so open to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our week was a real mix of emotions, the day spent at Angkor Wat began at 4:30am to ensure we made it in time for sunrise; it was amazing to arrive in pitch black and gradually watch the temple appear before our eyes, and boy is it spectacular! We here so much and see so many films and pictures of Rome and the pyramids, yet Angkor Wat is probably even more amazing, the scale and richness of the Angkorian period is in such contrast to the way Cambodians live today - the main temple (the one you will have seen if you've ever seen a picture) was stunning and our guide gave us huge amounts of information concerning the history and development of this old capital, however for me it was the temple used as the backdrop for the Lara Croft Tomb Raider movie that was the most impressive - the trees left to grow through the walls of the buildings and the faded green colour give it a mysterious feel which transports you back in time to the 12th century, to a time when Cambodia was the dominant force in south east Asia and London was a mere 50,000 population town still in the dark ages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the visit to Tual Sleng and the killing fields though which has left the biggest impact for me - Toul Sleng, now the genocide museum, once the Khmer Rouge S21prison and before that a school, and the killing fields are still very much kept how they were, nothing fake here. The blood is still on the walls of the classrooms come prison cells and when you walk through the killing fields there are still bones poking through the ground beneath your feet and clothes of the dead still scattered on the ground. To say it was moving is an understatement. This is such recent history, its my lifetime and everyone alive in Cambodia today is and has been affected. Half the Cambodian population died at the hands of Pol Pot. Liang, our guide for the day spent 12 years living in a refugee camp - it was amazing to hear her speak first hand about when and why they escaped the regime and how people like her were only allowed back in the country in 1993 for the elections. There is a monument at the killing fields which holds the skulls and bones of the people excavated from the mass graves, its so awkward looking at layers and layers of skulls and realising that each was an ordinary Cambodian killed at the hands of another Cambodian. There is a tree at the killing fields which was used by the Khmer Rouge to beat young children to death in order to save bullets - the scale of the evil is just unreal and you come away with so many questions: What would bring a man to the point where he could do this to his own people? Who was Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge and why were they ever allowed to get into such a position of power? Why did the world not intervene sooner? At Toul Sleng as well the cruelty was just pure evil - I walked upstairs to the top floor and being in the stairwell reminded me of our stairwell at school and all I could hear in my head was the voices of happy children running up and down to their lessons and at home time - suddenly and abruptly stopped by the sounds of toture and pure evil. The scale of the evil is overwhelming and at both places you can physically feel it in the air, yet our guide Liang through all her personal suffering seems to have moved on and when you meet Cambodians there seems to be a real peace and hope about them. Their resilience is amazing The impression you get of the people is that they are very calm and peaceful - even with the immense poverty there are a lot of smiling faces - Its a very humbling experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving Cambodia was hard, I desperately wanted to stay longer, see more and learn more, the only consolation was our method of transport from Siem Reap to the Thai boarder... the back of a 4x4 sitting on top of our rucksacks being thrown about by the pot holes and covered in dust from the road. But what an amazing way to see the countryside and the way of life for so many Cambodians today - Every second felt like an adventure, a truly amazing journey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-6355026651247269569?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/6355026651247269569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=6355026651247269569' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/6355026651247269569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/6355026651247269569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/01/angkor-what.html' title='Angkor What?'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-6018775173569205710</id><published>2008-01-02T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T02:07:58.587-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The motorcycle diaries</title><content type='html'>Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam Ho Chi Minh....  for a country that has been through so much pain and suffering both in its recent past and since time began, Vietnam is on first appearance and after 3 weeks and numerous cities, towns and villages a wonderfully forward looking, hopeful and friendly society.  Before arriving I wondered whether there would be bitterness towards the western world and indeed western travellers, whether the museums and historic sites would be full of anti-Americanism and the same (or more) levels of propaganda which filled the text books I once studied (although of course on the other side of the fence) but nothing could be further from the truth.  From Hanoi to Ho Chi Mihn we have experienced amazing hospitality, smiling faces and people desperate to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Hanoi 3 weeks ago and to cut a long story short have been slowly (or speedily, depending on your view of the world!) been meandering our way south.  Hanoi grabs and you and wacks the senses from the moment you get off the bus, and if your not careful one of the 3 million motorbikes on the road at any given time might also whack you!  Carrying on my new tradition of visiting the embalmed bodies of dead communist leaders, our first stop was the Ho Chi Minh morssaleum - the complex is massive and although it didn't feel half as weird as Lenin in Moscow the level of beurcarcy involved in seeing him was high!  Leaving the city behind the next 3 days were spent trekking through the mountains to the north in Hoah Binh province.  The scenery was fantastic, so relaxing to walk through the paddy fields and experience village life first hand, staying with two different families.  Next stop was Halong Bay, over 3,00 islands are a feast for the eye and probably the best way to enjoy it was an afternoon of kayaking - in a slight change to my usual way of travelling the boat we were staying on was luxurious... shelley and I had a twin en-suite cabin and sea food was served at each meal in the restaurant - um...so far Vietnam really hasn't been much about backpacking :-) Next stop was Hue, which used to be the capital, but all that remains now of the once impressive Citadel is a few towers and temples, it deserves its  UNESCO status, but is just one more reminder of the damage done by war.  One of the most difficult yet memorable days was spent visiting the DMZ - the so called no-mans-land at the 17th parallel, we visited various museums and places of military significance during the American war.  The countryside is exactly how you imagine it to be; jungle, green and rich with villages of wooden houses dotted around.  We walked along the Ho Chi Minh trail and walked through the Vinh Moe tunnels where countless men, women and children had survived for up to 18 months and more cooped up in the smallest of spaces with such little air and only allowed out on days when the bombing was lighter to collect food and supplies - being down there for just 10mins was hard enough, seeing it brought home the truths of war and the suffering to ordinary people and the cruelty of human beings - several days and several more cities later, the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City is the ultimate reminder of the effects of war, not just at the time but for years to come.  Over a quarter of the Vietnamese population lost their lives or were injured during the American war and still today babies are born with deformities caused by the use of agent Orange and other chemical weapons and 300 people a year are inured by land mines.  Yet to end where I started, through all the pain and suffering, Vietnam is developing at a fast pace - its now the worlds second largest exporter of rice and has a flourishing tourist infrastructure, this surely is a country which has grabbed its freedom with both hands and wont let it go in a hurry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A few highlights:&lt;/strong&gt;Beer corner in Hanoi - The beer was really tasty and only 9p (yes 9p) a glass!&lt;br /&gt;Treking through the mountains of Hoah Binh province&lt;br /&gt;Hoi An - What a chilled out town&lt;br /&gt;Whale Island - Except for the weather was absolute paradise&lt;br /&gt;New Years Eve in the big street party which was Ho Chi Minh city&lt;br /&gt;Chartering a dragon boat up the perfume river&lt;br /&gt;The DMZ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current reading material &lt;/strong&gt;- So dull I can't even remember the title!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current iPod tunes &lt;/strong&gt;- Anything related to Vietnam...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-6018775173569205710?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/6018775173569205710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=6018775173569205710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/6018775173569205710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/6018775173569205710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2008/01/motorcycle-diaries.html' title='The motorcycle diaries'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-7709930832454465390</id><published>2007-12-16T03:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T04:05:14.332-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Censorsed!</title><content type='html'>Its five weeks since the last blog update and no this hasn't been down to laziness, lack of internet cafes or that I've fallen off the face of the earth.....  but China, for all its glitz, Olympic aspirations and high rise cities, is still not totally part of the free world...  however, it is quite fun to know that my little blog with tales of travel poses such a threat that its worthy of censorship!!  :-)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;China in brief then: The first two weeks I spent at a language school a stones throw away from the IBM building in the business district (I never did go and check that IBM really was that close but my tutors insisted on reminding me often and it featured in many a lesson from "directions" to "occupations") it was a great challenge, especially for someone who's never tried to learn a language before...and chinese certainly isn't easy, with 4 tones plus neutral the syllable "ma" can mean either 1) Mother 2) Hemp 3) Horse 4) To get angry with 5) a yes or no question...  its very easy to make some quiet funny mistakes!  Equipped with the my new language skills, able to order 2 beers, ask where the toilets are and buy train and bus tickets, travel buddy Shelley arrived 2 weeks later and we began our journey zig zagging our way through China.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What stands out most looking back is just how different the culture was from anywhere I've been before.  On the one hand it was easy to label the people rude with the constant spitting on the street (and in restaurants, on trains and pretty much everywhere else) letting small children wee in public places and the constant pushing and shoving rather than queuing.  Other bizarre traits include individually rapping pieces of fruit, but happily walking along the street carrying a dead chicken! and the women who never close the door in public toilets!  However, in every city we visited we met some of the most friendly and helpful people in the world....  the girl in the yellow jacket who spoke no English yet offered to help us and spent over 15 mins ensuring we got to the train station on time.  The train guard who sat with us for over an hour trying to make conversation using my Chinese text book (fine until he reached the "relationships" section!!) a second train guard who has ensured Shelley and I have become minor celebrities on the Chinese rail network and Mr Cheng of Tankou who we would probably have never survived without.  In short a unique place, not a culture I particularly gel with but an amazing experience and some amazing people.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A few highlights for those who like that kinda thing:&lt;br /&gt;- The Great Wall&lt;br /&gt;- Terracotta Warriors (nope their not all in London)&lt;br /&gt;- Summer Palace&lt;br /&gt;- Temple of Heaven&lt;br /&gt;- Forbidden City&lt;br /&gt;- S'Silk restaurant in Beijing (possibly the best Lamb dish in the world)&lt;br /&gt;- Huang Shan mountain&lt;br /&gt;- Wine in Wuhan (there really isn't much wine!)&lt;br /&gt;- Cycling through rice paddies&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Reading material - Various economics books from my flat mate in Beijing (thanks Jake)&lt;br /&gt;iPod tunes - Morrissey, Buddha Bar, Tree 63&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-7709930832454465390?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/7709930832454465390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=7709930832454465390' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/7709930832454465390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/7709930832454465390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2007/12/censorsed.html' title='Censorsed!'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-4097708282857170868</id><published>2007-11-06T23:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T00:07:38.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wot no Yak attack?</title><content type='html'>After 5 days on a train crossing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Siberia&lt;/span&gt; on a diet of cuppa soup and instant noodles reaching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ulaan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Baatar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was utterly delightful...and for those who have been to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;UB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, you will realise I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;referring&lt;/span&gt; to being able to shower at last and not the city itself which pretty much lives up to the guide books comment "a scar on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mongolian&lt;/span&gt; countryside"..... however that said, Mongolia has far than exceeded my expectations, especially the countryside miles away from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;UB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I arrived during the day time and it was already -16 degrees (yes minus 16) and has kinda just got colder ever since....really pleased for the last minute purchase of M&amp;amp;S thermals before I left London!!! It was all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; until I decided to go horse riding yesterday afternoon, which was a fantastic way to experience the Mongolian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;countryside&lt;/span&gt;, I even managed to have some fresh cows milk &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;yogurt&lt;/span&gt; with a real live nomad family in their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! But, by the time I got off the horse my feet were even more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;icy&lt;/span&gt; than the ground we had been riding on... an experience, but probably not one I would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;recommend&lt;/span&gt; at this time of year. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;In fact&lt;/span&gt;, speaking with a local guide it sounds like there are only about 100 tourists in the country at the moment, most (and its not many even in high season) pick the summer months to experience the amazing countryside which is Mongolia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the food in Russia was a disappointment, then Mongolia again has far exceeded my expectations.... hearty fish soups, Mongolian BBQ, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;dumplings&lt;/span&gt; and lots of fresh eggs. After 5 days of artificial, far too salty junk food on the train its been a welcome relief; and very cheap... beer only 25p a can (oh dear...) and a decent evening meal for 2 pounds. Also a welcome relief after the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt; prices in Russia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A few facts for you:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Chinggis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Khan ruled Mongolia from 1162-1227 he could be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;described&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;as the &lt;/span&gt;man of his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;millennium&lt;/span&gt;, at that time Mongolia was MASSIVE..... from Lake Baikal to the Great Wall, the entire of SE Asia, much of modern day Russia &amp;amp; central Europe, as far as Turkey and Bulgaria... he even had his sights sets on Egypt, asking the french of all people to help him, and a letter was found not so long ago in the vaults of the Vatican telling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;the Pope&lt;/span&gt; that he was to become a Mongolian subject!! Today Mongolia is still pretty massive really, although suffers from lack of population, there are only 2.5 million Mongolians, half live in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ulaan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Baatar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, about half a million live abroad and the rest still live the traditional nomadic lifestyle, living in Ger tents. Hum, maybe I was paying attention in the National History &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Museum&lt;/span&gt; :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mongolia is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; a country I want to come back to....  a fascinating past and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; an interesting future ahead and with so much to explore, including the Gobi desert which place deserves more than a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Next stop -&lt;/strong&gt; Back on the train &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;, only one night this time and next stop Beijing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; tunes:&lt;/strong&gt; 10,000 Maniacs / Juliet Turner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current reading Material:&lt;/strong&gt; Oops.. ran out of books!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-4097708282857170868?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/4097708282857170868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=4097708282857170868' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/4097708282857170868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/4097708282857170868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2007/11/wot-no-yak-attack.html' title='Wot no Yak attack?'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-5358016304428786735</id><published>2007-10-30T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T02:46:39.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dragons in Moscow...</title><content type='html'>So, final post before its all a board the trans &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Siberian&lt;/span&gt; railway &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt; for 14 days of cold weather, train food and thousands of miles of watching the world go by from the window.  Moscow is BIG.  About half an hour outside of Moscow train station the tower blocks started....and its nothing like coming through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Clapham&lt;/span&gt; Junction on the way to Waterloo; these tower blocks are massive and there are thousands of them.   Its a weird sight, makes you feel very small and must give the inhabitants the feeling that they are part of something big but maybe not very individual - or was that the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not one for pointless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bureaucracy&lt;/span&gt; so I knew there would be things about Moscow that would annoy me, and there has been, but the overwhelming feeling is that this is a city and a country in transition, trying to find its way post communism without loosing its culture and identity.  Today I saw the dead body of Lenin, there are plans to bury him sometime soon but there are mixed feelings amongst the Russian people so it wont be without a fight I'm sure...  it felt like the Russian version of the pyramids, their way of creating a "god" out of their dead leader....actually the whole experience has left a rather bad taste in the mouth.  Dragons in Russian culture are a symbol of evil and in Victory Park late last night with the moon and the mist hovering over the top of the WW2 memorial the dragon was enough not just to remind of the horrific nature of war and mans evil but still had the ability to scare anyone who walked close by (there are photos..)  Moscow is a living muesem, with every building, square and street name telling a story and its one BIG story!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How to make your own St &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Basils&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cathedral&lt;/span&gt; blue peter style&lt;/strong&gt;......  all you need is a shoe box, 8 toilet rolls, 8 onions and some bright coloured paint....  get your mum to help you cut the 8 toilet rolls into different sizes, glue an onion on the top of each, stick the toilet roll onions towers onto the shoe box in a random order then paint the whole thing with bright colours and swirly patterns.... and there you have it!  Alternatively go to Red Square where there is one they made earlier.  Crazy place but kinda cool in its own unique way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Books/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ipod&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - No time, serious site seeing to be done!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-5358016304428786735?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/5358016304428786735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=5358016304428786735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5358016304428786735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/5358016304428786735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2007/10/dragons-in-moscow.html' title='Dragons in Moscow...'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-7238492272615826146</id><published>2007-10-26T04:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T05:00:49.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The "new" europe...</title><content type='html'>Having totally enjoyed Vilnius, Riga (Latvia) was just not such a pleasant experience, the old town itself is beautiful, cobbled streets and amazing archetecture dating from all periods of Latvia's diverse history...however the place as maybe predictable, was full of english/irish yobs and the whole town seemed to cater for them, with large american fast food restaurants and theme bars in abundance - To be honnest they might as well paint the town orange and change its name to EasyRiga....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next stop Tallinn (Estonia) where I still am... for a few hours at least.  A superb town, possibly one of the least unspoilt medieval towns I have ever been to... and a great bunch of people in the hostel (bunch of ex-pompey Uni students!!) which made for some long and entertaining evenings!  In Vilnius, Riga and Tallinn I spent time in the Museums of Occupation which in each case tells the story of their fight for independance from both the Germans and the Russians...  It provided a fascinating insight, infact I think I learnt more from the 3 museums than I had in years of school history lessons - for the first time I feel I have an appreciation for what the Iron curtain meant in reality to the people living behind it and a better understanding of the day to day reality of communism - happy to share further thoughts for anyone interested!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current reading material: The Celestine Prophecy, James Redfield (thanks shelley!!)&lt;br /&gt;Current ipod tunes: Alison Krauss &amp; Union Station / Killers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-7238492272615826146?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/7238492272615826146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=7238492272615826146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/7238492272615826146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/7238492272615826146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2007/10/new-europe.html' title='The &quot;new&quot; europe...'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-2415654279616997482</id><published>2007-10-19T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T08:53:21.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One week in.</title><content type='html'>Weirdly (and this was totally unplanned) it is exactly a week to the minute (18:11) since I left London Waterloo..... 7 days, 5 trains, 3 hostels, several (!) beers, 1 new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; friend and so many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ausies&lt;/span&gt; I've lost count already.... and here I am in Vilnius, Lithuania.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Expectations are strange things&lt;/strong&gt; - For those in the UK, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know whether Michael &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Pailin&lt;/span&gt; has reached eastern &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Europe&lt;/span&gt; yet, and if he has maybe your expectations would be different from mine. Having read very little about Polish &amp;amp; Lithuanian history/politics my assumption was of a ex-soviet outpost with large &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;concrete&lt;/span&gt; and rusting green buildings, nothing but stew and dumplings to eat and slightly scary looking women..... how wrong can a girl be!! This place is fantastic - bright and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;vibrant&lt;/span&gt;, full of colour and stunning architecture, flavoursome food. incredibly friendly hospitable people and an energetic nightlife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Challenges -&lt;/strong&gt; The biggest so far have been 1) trying to find my way out of Warsaw train station which although only has 6 platforms has eight million exits all of which seem to lead you to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;McDonalds&lt;/span&gt;.... 2) trying not to get dragged into political conversations with Americans.....3) Spending at least some time on my own (hostels are friendly places.... and 4) Remembering to take plenty of photos, there is always the delete button!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thought for the day&lt;/strong&gt; - Why is it that wherever you go in the world outside the UK people talk to you on trains? It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;wedsnesday&lt;/span&gt; afternoon and I was a little confused as to why the train had stopped, a bunch of cleaners jumped on and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;scrubbed&lt;/span&gt; the whole thing down whilst an engine was attached to the back of the train, the cleaners jumped off and the car I was in promptly headed off with the new engine in the direction we had just come from.... noticing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;suprise&lt;/span&gt; Lithuanian Mark suggested he come and sit with me as "its much more fun to have someone to talk with".... fine by me as not only did he help me get off at the right point and change onto the correct train, but also spent the following four hours in conversation ranging from his views of Russia to the global monetary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;system&lt;/span&gt; to sharing a bag of dill flavour crisps (v.good they are too!).... so next time you see a lost soul on a train....well, I leave you to decide!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current reading material&lt;/strong&gt; - The Gum Thief, Douglas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Coupland&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Current &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt; tunes&lt;/strong&gt; - Bruce Springsteen / Medieval Babes / Killers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-2415654279616997482?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/2415654279616997482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=2415654279616997482' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/2415654279616997482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/2415654279616997482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2007/10/one-week-in.html' title='One week in.'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4999438177164745459.post-911907682644122272</id><published>2007-09-28T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T07:04:05.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simply why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyone who knows me well will be aware that from a right young age I've been fascinated by the world with all its various countries and cultures - since friends moved to South Africa when I was about 8 years old (I was quite cute then!) I've wanted to go to Africa - my Mum &amp;amp; Sister both had to put up with piles of library books about the Continent stacked in my room (usually running up fines - good job you worked at the library back then eh Mum!) and writing slightly dubious poetry about sunsets and setting foot on African soil :-) It didn't just stop with Africa, from the first time I went Inter railing around Europe as a teenager I've wanted to travel. Mix all that with a passion for looking after the planet and using our time here on earth wisely, with a sense of adventure and a desire to keep the challenges coming....and I think you've probably got the makings of how this trip started life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often people build a trip around a list of countries they want to visit - for me it was about a bunch of things I wanted to do.&lt;br /&gt;1) See how possible it is to travel the world without leaving too big a carbon footprint&lt;br /&gt;2) Let the journey be the experience not just the A to B&lt;br /&gt;3) Do some volunteer work but holding to the principle of "I can't build a house in England so what makes me think I can build one in Africa"&lt;br /&gt;4) Learn how to make wine&lt;br /&gt;5) Oh and the small matter of figuring out what the next phase of my life should look like :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the plan is simple: Leave London Waterloo like every other day, but rather than ending up in hounslow end up in Australia without taking a flight...... for those who are now grabbing the atlas to confirm they are not going mad but there is water between here and down under... methods of transport will include trains, buses, feet and freight ship... Make the most of Ausie friends contacts spending time in the Barossa valley attempting to learn something about wine. Then take the first of 2 flights over to South Africa to travel up through Mozambique to Tanzania where I'll then be volunteering for 3 months in a centre for women teaching a bit of IT skills and some aspects of setting up a small business...bit of marketing maybe?! From then the plan is a bit less defined suffice to say 1 more flight to Morocco avoiding all the scary war torn central African countries and then train and boat back to the UK. Easy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does it all begin - train departs London Waterloo 18:11 friday 12th October..... keep in touch xx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4999438177164745459-911907682644122272?l=rhianjohns.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/feeds/911907682644122272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4999438177164745459&amp;postID=911907682644122272' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/911907682644122272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4999438177164745459/posts/default/911907682644122272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rhianjohns.blogspot.com/2007/09/simply-why.html' title='Simply why?'/><author><name>Rhian Johns</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01283445900814394605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
