Great Ocean Road, Australia

We departed on our second three-day tour today, this time with a full bus of 24. We had some Swiss, some Irish, some Brits, and even a couple of other Americans. We left Melbourne at O-dark-thirty and headed out onto The Great Ocean Road.

We stopped by the roadside to view some Koalas. Koalas don't do a heck of a lot. They sleep about 20 hours a day. They eat three hours a day. I guess the other hour is spent watching Oprah.

Toward sunset we drove to the Twelve Apostles. These limestone rock towers are amazing; unquestionably the most stunning view of our trip.

It is said that the Twelve Apostles can make anyone with a camera into an Ansel Adams for a day. This shot was my best effort.

Melbourne, Australia

The best cultural experience of our trip was attending a footy match at the MCG. We saw the Melbourne Demons take on the Hawthorn Hawks in their season opener. I knew from the local sports page the Hawthorn was predicted to be one of the top two teams in the league; while Melbourne was picked to finish dead last. Thus, we planned to barrack (not root) for Hawthorn, since it's the American way to be a fair weather fan. However I also wanted to purchase a t-shirt to support my adopted footy team. My choices were an ugly brown Hawthorn shirt for $35 or a cool navy blue Melbourne shirt for $20. I switched allegiences on the spot and went with Melbourne. Oh what a mistake.

This was not a close game. The final score was 154-50. The Howthorn fans around us told me things like "You picked the wrong team, mate." and "I'm sorry, this is really unusual, it's generally much closer" The Melbourne players appeared as confused about the rules as I was. They seemed to struggle with the concept of catching the ball and kicking it through the posts for a score.

Just the same, it was a great day at the ballpark. Each team has it's own song that it's fans sing at the beginning of the game. I think one song was set to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy, and the other to Old Langs Ayne. The manner of cheering is different too. This was the common refrain from the woman sitting next to me; "Go, Yes, Yes, Go, Yes, Yes, AHHHHHHHH! Well Done! Well Done, Robbie. Well Done." followed by polite golf clapping. Slightly different from what you might hear at Fenway; "Hey A-Rod you f#$%ing suck! Go back to New York you glove slapping mo*&%$*%$er!"

We perused the art museum and were please to find the pool in front was named after Lindso. They didn't get the spelling right though.

We walked a couple miles down to St Kilda to find the best pub scene in Melbourne. We caught a rock band at the Esplenade Hotel, which is kind of like a frat basement with the volume cranked to eleven.

Wilson's Promontory, Australia

Crossing the border from New South Wales into Victoria. "Victoria, The Place To Be"

We left the somewhat desolate and windblown town of Lakes Entrance early this morning. I was tired from a late night lesson on the intricacies of Aussie Rules Football from Bones. As near as I can tell, the goal is to smash the head off anyone holding the ball, unless he caught it from someone else kicking it to him. In that case you have to leave them alone and watch them score easily.
I also learned that Bones has been everywhere. I mean everywhere on earth. I flipped through his picture album to see pictures of Bones riding his own camel in the mountains of Afghanistan, Bones climbing a 20,000ft mountain in the Andes, Bones playing cricket with Bhutanese monks. Basically Bones lives the life I would like to live, if I had the nerve to quit my job and sell all my posessions. Note to self, keep saving, retire before too old to hike across Himalayas....

After more driving through dusty dirt roads, we arrived at Wilson's Promontory National Park. This is the southernmost point of the Continent of Australia; and also the southernmost point either of us has ever been to at 39.13 degrees S. We walked along Squeaky Beach on our short hike.
Beyond these cold waves of the Southern Ocean lies the island of Tasmania and then Antarctica.

One of the benfits of taking a tour is that we got a chance to see wildlife in places where we would not have known to look on our own. Over the first six days of our trip we had not seen a single live kangaroo, and I was starting to think perhaps they had gone extinct and the Aussie government was covering it up to save tourism. Not so, Bones took us off road to an abandoned WWII airstrip where he knew there would be kangaroos. Sure enough we saw a couple dozen eating grass and bouncing around. The joeys and females bound away when you approach them, but the big males are not afraid and will let you get pretty close.

Snowy Mountains, Australia

Today we traveled from Jindabyne through forest and back country dirt roads. We spent much of the day in the Snowy Mountains inside Kosciusko National Park. Here we went for a short (3 mile) hike up to one of the only glacial lakes in Australia. It was foggy and chilly, with rain and wind at these higher elevations of about 5000ft. We were very close to Mt. Kosciusko, the highest peak in Australia at only 7,310ft. I was kinda bummed that we couldnt fit in a hike up Kosciusko, so I could bag one of the Seven Summits. All in all, the Snowy Mountains are not too impressive to anyone who has lived in the Rocky Mountains in Colorado.

Here I flagrantly flout the law; and challenge Australia's finest to fine me $300. ( I think standing means parking in Oz-speak)

Canberra, Australia

Today we began our first of two three-day tours across southeastern Australia. This bus would be our home for about 6 hours a day. We shared it with several Brits, one dazed and confused German girl, and our intrepid Adventure Tours Australia tour guide and chauffeur, Bones.

Our first stop was in Canberra at the excellent National Museum of Australia. Then on to Parliament.

I was a fan of Australian government even before the trip began. Immediately upon entering office last year, Kevin Rudd ratified the Kyoto Accords and proclaimed a national "Sorry" day on behalf of the government apologizing to Australia's indigenous people for all of the cruelty inflicted upon them by the state over the last 220 years.
But our visit to the Parliament House would be even better than we could have anticipated. We just happened to be there on the one afternoon a month when the parliament has "Question Time". This mainly consists of the opposition party grilling the Prime Minister and his cabinet with questions insinuating incompetency and corruption. We had the thrill of watching the Liberal Party (conservatives) pepper the cabinet of the Australian Labor Party (liberals) and K Rudd himself with allegations of impropriety with a Chinese business. As the cabinet and Rudd would deftly respond to each spurious question, the opposition "shadow ministers" would guffaw, catcall, and generally talk amongst each other to show complete disrespect for the speaker.

It was fantastic theatre. K Rudd is a consummate speaker. Unrattled, he would turn each nasty remark back at the inquisitor with a sharp response. I tried to imagine our current President responding to probing questions from Congress with no teleprompter to guide him.

I think the Aussie system of government is far healthier that ours. The party in power controls Parliament and the executive office. They can get things done. The opposition is free to ridicule and demand answers once a month. If the people don't like the results or the answers they hear, within three years, they can throw them out and let the opposition have a go. I'm telling you if we had the Aussie system, C-SPAN would have ratings almost as high as MTV-2.

Another reason I am a fan of Australian government is Peter Garrett. If you don't know who Peter Garrett is; he's just your average six foot six, bald, rock superstar, turned environmental and social activist, turned one of the most powerful politicians in Australia. Garrett was the lead singer for supergroup Midnight Oil from 1973 to 2002. I listened to "Diesel and Dust" and "Blue Sky Mining" often in high school in the late eighties. Their music was the first "protest music" I had ever heard. I learned about Australia by listening to Midnight Oil rail against environmental degradation, militarization, and the lack of support for the aboriginal population. Lindso and I were fortunate enough to see one of their very last concerts at Kinetics in Boulder in 2002.

Now Peter Garrett is the Minister for the Environment, Heritage, and the Arts. So we saw him live for the second time, though in a much different venue. I was hoping he would get a question, alas he did not, but we did see his long legs splayed out in the front row a few seats down from K Rudd. Well done, Peter!

Sydney, Australia

After a 10 hour flight on Jetstar, and a circuitous van shuttle from the airport; we arrived in Sydney late Sunday evening. Our hotel, the Lord Nelson Brewery, was conveniently located in The Rocks, a short walk from the iconic image of Sydney, the Sydney Opera House. We climbed onto the Sydney Harbour Bridge for the above photo at sunset. The harbour is a picturesque hub of activity. Ferries are coming in and out of Circular Quay, businessmen and tourists alike are getting on and off of ferries and trains, street performers are playing didgeridoos for spare change. We walked all around The Rocks and hit several historic pubs.

On day two we went for a run right up to the Opera House and through the Botanical Gardens. We then retraced our steps on a long walk with the camera. Lindso had a seat in Mrs. Macquarie's Chair. This stone bench was carved out by convicts in 1816 so the the wife of Governor General Lachlan Macquarie could sit here under the trees and watch for ships sailing into the harbour from England.

Later that evening we had the first of many encounters with the exceptionally friendly and open Australian people. It was Saint Paddy's day, and much like in America, everyone is a little bit Irish on St Paddy's day. The pubs were packed with young drunk Aussie's dressed in green. We sat at a quieter pub, and soon were engaged in conversation with Jerry and Terry, two Aussies from the next table over. We shouted each other a few rounds, and they invited us to dinner with them at the next pub. By the end of the night we had pub-hopped to at least five different places with them and had a great time. In all of our travels, Australia is only the second place I've been (Ireland is another) where total strangers will strike up a conversation with a tourist and invite them along for a night on the town. We're beginning to like this country.Day three found us riding the ferry to Manly Beach. The view of the harbour from the water should not be missed. Manly is a fantastic Maui-quality beach, just a 60 minute ferry ride from the city center. It's long promenade has all the surf clothing shops and restaurants, and the at the end of the street lies a huge white sand beach with surfable waves. Only Miami and Los Angeles in the US, have beaches this nice this close to the city.
Later on we took the train out to famous Bondi Beach. Almost as nice as Manly, Bondi is only 20 minutes by train from the center. This would certainly be the place to live in Sydney. I've never seen a more fitness oriented beach in my life. We saw people surfing, jogging, competing in a swim race, rowing, doing calisthenics at a Venice-Beach type area, rollerblading, and biking.

Placencia, Belize

Yesterday I left San Ignacio in the morning and got a shuttle ride to Belize city. I got to drive through the City cause the guy had to pick up some people coming in on a water taxi from the Cayes. The city looks pretty rundown. Glad I didnt spend any time there. Then I went to the airport to meet my parents. Their plane landed from Houston, but they were not on it. The ticket agent confirmed that they missed the flight, but got on the next one (surprised that there WAS a next one) and would be in at 4pm. I figured out that they could still catch the last flight to Placencia, and since we had agreed earlier not to wait for each other if one of us missed a connection, I boarded my flight to Placencia. The plane was a 10 seat propeller plane, and I sat directly behind the pilot! No 9-11 security in effect here. The flight was cool. The plane dipped and dived for landings like a WWII fighter plane. I got it all on handycam.
Placencia (pop. 458) is another quiet one-street town, though this one is entirely geared to American tourists. Lots of Americans here. Our hotel, Tradewinds, is a little cabana just 30 feet from the ocean. It is a lot like the place in Fiji, except it's concrete and we are located next to a kennel of barking dogs. Not a bad place for $50 a night, right on the Caribbean. That's pronounced ca-rib-BE-an, right Dad?
Today it rained most of the day. Ive just been hanging with the folks. We've enjoyed Omar's restaurant, Cozy Corner Cafe, Purple Space Monkey restaurant, and Tipsy Tuna barefoot bar.

Today we went on a boat ride and hike up the Monkey River. As you can see, Mom got some sun. We rode a small outboard boat a few miles down the coast and then stopped at a tiny village to pick up our local guide. We then slowly motored up the river looking for wildlife and seeing birds, small crocs, turtles, big iguanas, and bats. After a while we pulled ashore and hiked into the jungle. Our machete-wielding and knowledgeable guide pointed out every tree and it's function to the indigenous Maya. Finally he located the highlight of the trip. He ran ahead to scout out the area, then called us over. Once we reached him, he paused for effect, then slapped the side of a big tree with his machete. Immediately several howler monkeys exploded into a chorus of screams and grunts. They were less than pleased to see us, and very vocal about it.

After we left the monkeys we had lunch in Monkey River Town (pop. 100), then saw some manatees on the thrilling ride home through dense mangroves.

Actun Tunichil Muknal Cave, Belize

Today I did a tour into a cave called Aktun Tunichil Muknal. We hiked a couple miles through the jungle and then went deeeeeep into this cave that has a river running though it. We had to swim through the cave in parts! We had headlamps, it was pitch black, slippery. Not too claustrophobic and tight, except in one or two places. Once we had hiked/swum in a half mile or so, we climbed to a dry section where the Maya had performed religious ceremonies. There were broken pots everywhere that had not been touched in over a thousand years! They just found the cave in 1989. In the far back end of the cave there was the big finish....HUMAN SACRIFICES! Yep, remains of at least 14 people that were sacrificed to the gods 12-13 centuries ago. I got pictures of skulls and one complete intact skeleton. Pretty cool. Although, the price you paid for getting to see that was being wet and cold in a cave for four hours. So, tomorrow I'm off to Belize CIty again to meet the folks and then we fly a puddle jumper to the coast. I'm currently in negotiations for transport tomorrow. One guy has offered to take me there at 7am for $37, I'll probably end up going with him. Another American guy from today's tour said he might be able to get me a ride, I have to go check in with him.

Tikal, Guatemala

When I arrived solo at Belize City Airport, my ride didnt show up. This was concerning because there was no bus leaving for San Ignacio that late in the afternoon, so I was pretty much screwed. After an hour, in desperation, I asked a couple that was waiting for their ride if they were heading west? They were heading to San Ignacio, and said I could ride with them! I was so psyched. Not only did I have a ride, but now I didn't have to pay the exorbitant fee of $90 for the shuttle. Then, just before we left, a young kid shows up in 1987 Toyota Corolla with a smashed windshield, one headlight, and no gas, and says "Does anyone know Sam?" Damn! I left my new friends, and got in the kids car. He said he got a flat and that's why he was late. Might have been true. Then he wanted to stop for beers! I said no, that I'd wait until I got to my hotel. The Casa Blanca in San Ignacio is very nice, squeaky clean, with TV, plenty of room, and for $24 a night, probably the best value I've ever had. Belize has a great local beer, Belikin, which I had a lot of. Food is OK and really cheap. I spent the first day just hanging around San Ignacio. The town is pretty dull. Nothing going on, no shopping, no decent bars, nothing. It looks nicer than Mexico, but not as nice as Costa Rica. People are very friendly, and I feel completely safe. In the morning I ran to some small Mayan ruins. In the afternoon I saw the whole town in about one hour, and then just sat in a park and read a book.

Today I took a tour to Tikal in Guatemala. It is an awesome sight. The temples are enormous, very well preserved, and you can climb to the top of two of them. The Maya had more advanced cities than anything in Europe as of 900AD. It's crazy that people lived better 1100 years ago here than they do now. Guatemala seems OK, not dangerous or noticeably poorer than Mexico or Belize. The border was a piece of cake, the passport people even smiled! I was expecting Nicaragua again. People all have livestock in Guatemala, so the van is constantly swerving to avoid pigs, cows, horses, chickens, dogs, goats, sheep, and children. The driver told us that there is no auto insurance in Guatemala. If you hit anything you pay for it on the spot. If you hit someone's horse, you have to pay for the value of the horse then and there, or you go to jail, until someone comes up with the money. Yet we never braked to avoid animals, just swerved and hoped for the best. Ive never seen so many domesticated animals running wild before. Also, we changed vehicles and drivers three times, to avoid bringing a van across the border. By the time I got to Tikal it was some guy I just met saying, "Hi Sam, I'll be your guide, and then Hernando will drive you to Melchor e Mencos, then Francisco will be waiting for you, then he'll take to the border, and after you cross Jose will be there with the van." And I'm thinking "What?, which guy was Jose?" But it all worked out like clockwork. Good people here. I was with four other Americans in my tour group, two couples from California, and we had a fun trip. At the end of the tour we bought beers and carried them up the highest Mayan temple and drank Belikin with a view over the jungle. We all had dinner together last night and went "bar hopping" in the 3 empty bars in town all blasting horrible reggae music.

Recognize this shot? It's the exact same view seen at the very end of the movie Star Wars as the rebels are landing at their base after blowing up the Death Star, right before Han and Luke get their medals.

End of the road

Today was the end of the line for 2007. We caught a cab to the Helsinki airport at 530am. We both boarded British Air to Heathrow. At Heathrow, Josh had a short tube ride home, but I had a looooong way to go. I then flew to Los Angeles, then to Honolulu, then to Maui. By the time the day was done, in one calendar day I had travelled for 31 straight hours and crossed 13 time zones! Great trip, already thinking about next year...Italy? Southeast Asia?

Helsinki, Finland

Another day, another country. This afternoon Josh and I marched off to the Tallinn port and boarded a fast ferry to Helsinki. Finland is country number 35 for me! And it number 36 or 37 or 38 for Josh depending on whether or not he counts his layovers in Copenhagen and Reyjavik airports. I'll leave that up to his conscience to decide.
Helsinki is at first glance a very pretty and liveable town of 560,000. Just outside the port is a huge marketplace selling every type of craft and food in Finland. Beyond that is a beautiful park filled with people laying in the sun, eating ice cream on benches, and just watching the world go by. Next to the park were four young shirtless Finnish boys holding a breakdancing exhibition circa 1984, to an enthusiastic crowd of buisnessmen and shoppers.
We went for a run to the 1952 Olympic Stadium and were psyched to find statues commemorating two of Finland's running legends; Paavo Nurmi and Lasse Viren.

We were too tired at this point to sample much of Helsinki's nightlife, though we can recommend the pub "Vlatava", a remake of a Czech pub serving delicious pints of Budvar at the painful price of $7 per.

Tallinn, Estonia

This morning Josh and I caught the bus to the airport and flew Baltic Air yet again to Tallinn, the capital of Estonia. Tallinn has the most well preserved old town we have seen yet. While Vilnius and Riga were badly damaged in WWII, Tallinn survived unscathed. The city is partially surrounded by 15th century stone walls. 36% of the 400,000 residents are Russian, many of them not meeting Estonia's strict criteria for citizenship. In fact, Tallinn has the most non-EU citizens of any city in the EU, over 27%. St Olav's Church, the white spire in the center of the picture, was the tallest manmade structure in the world from 1549 to 1625. It made Tallinn visible from far out in the Baltic Sea.

Here we stumbled upon a newly married couple exiting Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. They released two doves and waved goodbye to them as the flew over the Tallinn skyline.
We think Tallinn is the most picturesque of the Baltic cities. Bar to recommend; The Hell and Hunt bar. It's name sounds strangely like Helen Hunt after a couple of their excellent home brews.

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Riga, Latvia

Above is the Freedom Monument, erected after Latvia gained independence from Bolshevik Russia in 1920. During the Soviet occupation, it was left standing, but Latvians were punished when they would place flowers at the feet of the monument. Today it's base is covered in flowers each day. As a sidenote, the worlds slowest McDonlands is located directly opposite the monument.

This small pyramid commemorates the five people who died when Latvia declared independence from the Soviets in 1991. The Red Army opened fire on a group of Latvians defending the new Latvian parliament. One journalist's last words to his wounded cameraman were "Keep filming."

Lest you think everything in Riga is about oppression; you can see here what Josh looks like after flying from Australia to Latvia and not sleeping for three days. We spent both nights in Riga at a big beer tent in the central square. I never saw a sign with the name of the place, but you can't miss it. They served excellent Latvian beer at $3 each and Krusovice and Budvar for $4. We saw several bachelor parties cruise through the cobblestones, one group ominously dressing in matching white plastic jumpsuits presumably to allow for the easy removal of spilled beer and/or vomit. The club owners cringed when they saw them coming. Even better than the beer tent is a bar strangely named "Nobody Writes to the Colonel". Inside are mostly students listening to awesome American 80's music and drinking decent Latvian beer in plastic cups for just $2.

Riga, Latvia

Today we caught a cab to the airport and boarded a short Baltic Air flight to Riga, the capitol of Latvia. Riga is the largest city of the Baltics at over 700,000 people. Riga actually has more inhabitants of Russian descent than of Latvian. Josh and I instantly noticed a different look than the people of Lithuania. Designer clothes, high fashion and high heels are de rigeur for Rigan women, while many of the men look like they could be cast in a James Bond movie as Russian mafia goons.

The old town has beautiful Art Nouveau architechture, though much of Riga was destroyed in WWII. Josh and I visited the Museum of Occupied Nations, which was an eye-opening lesson on the recent history of the Baltic countries. While most Americans would simply think of the Baltics as "former Soviet republics", these countries are adamant about proclaiming the 45 years of Soviet rule as an occupation. This museum outlined the horrible atrocities of the Red Army in 1940, then the Nazis from 1941-45, and then the Soviets again from 1945 on. When the Nazis forced the Red Army out of the Baltics in 1941, the people hailed them as saviors at first, until they proved to be equally as murderous as the Russians. Once it was clear that the Russians would be storming back in in 1945, and not the Americans, over 200,000 Latvians ran for their lives, many crowding into rowboats and fishing trawlers desperately trying to make it to Sweden. Those who were left behind lost their property to communism, their religion to forced athiesm, and their language to forced Russian teaching. Many received banishment to a Siberian gulag or outright execution.