Westendorf 17 March 2007

Spent the morning the morning with Jenny learning to snowboard.

Released a book at Munich Airport on the way home only to be pursued by the waiter from the cafe who thought we'd forgotten it. Not sure he quite understood what we were doing.

Westendorf 16 March 2007

Spent the day with Karen. She'd had a bad day on Thursday and needed a confidence boost. She borrowed the snowblades and got on fine.

In the afternoon Jenny and I took her down the blue run at Choralpe including some slushy sections of the sort that had worried her on Thursday. She managed the run, about 1km, and it was lovely to see her confidence come flooding back.

Westendorf 15 March 2007

Ski school race day. Charlie did his run before we realised.

Alfie and Megan ran off against each other for the "infant beginners" class.

Courtney won his class.

Jenny had a glass of schnapps before her run "to steady her nerves".


Afterwards, snowboarded over to Kitzbuhel and down the "Family" version of the Streif piste down the Hahnenkamm. Bus back to Westendorf (much to the chagrin of a taxi driver who lost the argument that there was no bus at 14.08) to go down the red run from Talkaser with Stuart, Charlie and Courtney.

Total descent (including lifts) 4594m.

Westendorf 14 March 2007

Skied Soll, Itter and Hopfgarten via Brixen im Thale then back by bus to ski Choralpe above Westendorf.

Total descent (including lifts) 5100m.

Westendorf 13 March 2007

On snowblades, followed Ski Safari to Breitmoos, beyond Pass Thurn. Back by bus to Kitzbuhel then change for bus to Ki-West gondola.

Total descent (including lifts) 6130m.

Westendorf 12 March 2007

Skied SkiWelt area from Brixen im Thale reaching Ellmau village and Scheffau. Newly serviced skis took some geting used to - kept catching edges!

Total descent (including lifts) 4985m.

Westendorf 11 March 2007

Sunday bright, clear and sunny. Left Jenny in ski school and skied Westendorf in the morning then Kirchberg in the afternoon via the Ki-West gondola.

Total descent (including lifts down) 5540m.

Westendorf 10 March 2007

"Can you get full fat milk and marmalade" were the text instructions from Stuart.

Jenny and I flew in to Munich from Heathrow with Lufthansa along with Jenny Griffiths. From there by taxi, avoiding the autobahns we reached Westendorf mid-afternoon. The village and lower slopes were clear of snow. The Spar was open, the shopping was done.

Stuart and Karen McIntosh arrived about 8pm with kids Charlie (5) and Alfie (3). Also staying at Haus Martha were Lawrence (Stuart's brother) and Becky with Cameron (8); Bridget and Andy with Courtney (8) and Megan (4) - and Pamela, Andy's mum.

In fact, Haus Martha was full so Jenny and I were to stay at another guesthouse till Tuesday when Lawrence and Becky were leaving and we could move in.

Dublin 18 February 2007

Sunday - stroll down to Trinity College to check whether the book we "released" had been "captured" - it had.

Then along the Liffey to the Custom House where the idea for this blog was conceived and the title dreamed up, based on the Graham Green novel "Travels with my Aunt" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Travels_with_my_aunt

Visit the Dublin Writers' Museum in Parnell Square, where I buy copies of "Gulliver's Travels" by Jonathan Swift and "Dracula" by Bram Stoker - both alumni of Trinity College.

Drink the oblgatory pint of Guinness at the Temple Bar while listening to a three piece band (guitar, accordian and fiddle) playing jigs.

Visit the Chester Beatty Library which houses a collection of texts and artifacts from Christian, Islamic, Buddhist and Hindu traditions.

Visit Dublin Castle - a strange mix of plush apartments, stll in use by the President for entertaining foreign dignitaries and conducting EU and Anglo-Irish negotiations amongst other things, lesson in Anglo-Irish history and mediaeval archeology.

Mark's bag is searched both at Dublin Airport security and by UK customs in Bristol on the return flight. Obviously a shifty character.

Dublin 17 February 2007

Flew Ryan Air and Mark got stopped at security for carrying an aerosol in his hand luggage. The coach from the airport stopped right outside the Gresham Hotel on O'Connell Street http://www.gresham-hotels.com/htm/Dublin/ . We dumped our bags with the concierge and set off to explore on foot.

Trinity College tour very entertaining. Led by a terribly camp professor (graduate in chemistry now lecturing in philosophy - it has that kind of effect on you). Bypassed the queue for tickets to see the Book of Kells (dimly lit for reasons of preservation but beautifully illustrated) and the fabulous wood-panelled Long Room of the College Library with books arranged over two storeys in alcoves under a vaulted ceiling.

Released "Everything is Illuminated" - our first attempt at book-crossing http://www.bookcrossing.com/ , havng been introduced to it by Heather.

Confused by Dublin's street naming conventions we turned up at South Great Georges Street in search of the Joyce Centre only to be told that this was on North Great Georges Street nearly a mile away on the other side of the River Liffey. So we missed the guided walk we'd intended to take from there and had to devise our own itenary.

St Patrick's Cathedral housed an interesting exhibition about Jonathan Swift who was dean of the cathedral fom 1713 to 1745. He is buried in the cathedral with the epitaph "Go, traveller, and imitate, if you can, one who strove with all his strength to champion liberty."

The pretty gardens of St Stephen's Green include a bust of James Joyce.

The General Post Office on O'Connell Street houses a memorial to the Easter Rising of 1916 during which the buidling was occupied by the republicans.

We finally found the Joyce Centre which is in a seedy area just off Parnell Square - somehow appropriate for a writer banned for his "pornographic" writing.

Afternoon tea at the Gresham to re-charge batteries then out again. Drinks at the Clarence Hotel (owned by U2) then dinner at Bewley's Oriental Cafe on Grafton Street.

Dahab 27/28 January 2007

Saturday afternoon. Jenny's now qualified as an Open Water Diver so we can dive together off the hotel beach. Potter around at 14m then a safety stop at 5m in accordance with pre-agreed plan. Jenny's bouyancy control is very good - better apparently than her trainee divemaster who managed to ascend by mistake while leading Jenny. He then panicked, grabbed her weight belt to haul her down when she had followed him up as she had been instructed to stick with him and release it, leaving him and the instructor hanging on to Jenny's legs to prevent an uncontrollable ascent as a result of him having removed her weightbelt. Surprisingly Jenny remained calm throughout this cock-up and didn't bolt for the surface but waited for him to re-attach the weightbelt and resume the dive.

Sunday morning. Taxi into Dahab then Jeep to the Blue Hole for Jenny to snorkel there. Excitement at the restaurant as the kitchen catches fire. Neighbouring restauranteurs rush to the scene with fire extinguishers, perhaps mindful of the proximity of the fire to their own tinder dry wood and thatch roofed premises. Jenny, in the water, misses the fun.

Sunday afternoon. Minor alarm at the airport check in over the flight home. Is it cancelled, re-scheduled or double-booked? In the end it's just an hour late. No problems.

Dahab 22-27 January 2007

We try out the hotel tennis courts. It's windy the first night and we think that's normal (Dahab is big on wind-surfing) but it's calm the rest of the week. One night we join a doubles social. Another evening the pro has the day off when he's supposed to be organising another doubles session. Shrug - this is Egypt.

We try all the restaurants in the hotel then on Friday we organise a taxi and finally venture into Dahab. It's small but growing with evidence of building everywhere. The waterfront promenade has wall to wall restaurants. Each has its own tout. They greet you and press their particular venue's unique attractions but are easily put off. They accept defeat with good grace and a smile. "Maybe you try us tomorrow."
We pick a place to eat - low tables and carpets, open fires . We are invited to choose our dish. The fish is on ice to keep it fresh. So is the lobster. Still moving. We choose something else that stays still.

We're surrounded by cats as we eat, obviously on the scrounge and aoccasionally bad-tempered with each other but no problem.


Saturday - early start in air-conditioned minibus into the Sinai Mountains to St Katheine's monastery. Record the altitude on my new toy. Watch the desaturation time on the dive computer rise and fall as we go up to the monastery then return.

The monastery is isolated and austere. It's a co-operative coming together of Christian and Muslim cultures for mutual support. Camel ride down, just because.

Dahab, Diving 22-26 January 2007

Go to the dive centre http://www.sinaidivers.com/english.htm and do the paperwork, assemble the kit and find our lockers.

Diving is all close to the shore. Some days we drive - five of us crammed in the back of a jeep with our kit in the trailer: me; Sara and Damian; Gareth and Tina - instructors with their own dive shop.

We kit up on matting and dive from the beach. Dives morning and afternoon, returning to the hotel to meet Jenny for lunch.

Two days we dive sites further south from a boat though still close in to shore. Lunch on board. Spend the hours sunbathing and writing up the journal of the African trips.

On Wednesday we drive north, past another police checkpoint. Dive the Canyon (narrow entry down to 30m - sit and watch our bubbles rising through the crevices, gaze eastwards at the canyon floor falling away to 50m). The drive further north, past the camels for the unwary in search of an even more uncomfortable ride to the Blue Hole. Enter via the Bells, a chimney down to 24m then swim up the wall to enter the Blue Hole at 7m. Swm across, looking down into the blue, 200m deep.


Lunch at a beachside cafe, sitting on carpets (shoes off). Haggle a group rate for the loo after the attendant has no change (yes, right!) for me, or Sara who came after me, in spite of me having handed over small denomination notes. He gives in without demur when we confront him with his ploy.

Dahab 21/22 January 2007

Jenny's unconvinced by the explanation that naming a place "Shark Bay" is simply a marketing ploy to encourage the divers into pelagics who might otherwise avoid the more truthful "No Sharks Here Bay".

The mountains - bare reddish/brown rock - are stark and dramatic as we come in to land at Sharm-el-Sheik and even more impressive close up as we drive north to Dahab.

We pass through a police checkpoint just outside Dahab. Is this security to protect the tourist trade or to police the population?

Up early next morning for breakfast. Too early. A whole hour too early because we're only 2 hours ahead of GMT not 3 hours ahead as I'd thought when re-setting the watch (a new toy from Duty Free - more of which later).

The hotel is in a beautiful setting - with low white buildings around a central lagoon, on the edge of the sea with the mountains for a backdrop.

Impressions of Africa

One moment sticks out showing the contrast between Africa and home. When we went for a walk through the Ugandan village in Bwindi, a small boy of about 10 came up to us and struck up a conversation. He was simply curious to learn about us.

Had the situation been reversed, no child would approach adult strangers in the UK. And they'd either have been worried about being taken for paedophiles or else wondering what scam was about to be pulled.

Indeed we can only imagine what reception would be given to affluent, lone, black strangers wandering into a poor white area in the UK. Hostility and suspicion - maybe even outright violence. Instead we met only a warm welcome , friendliness, smiles and waves.

In Uganda particularly (we didn't really get to meet many local people in Kenya - the Masai came to talk to us at the Lodge about their culture and performed traditional dances - but it was all very stage-managed entertainment) we got the impression from the large numbers of people standing or sitting outside their houses that people had time for themselves and each other. While this lack of industry may hold them back economically, who is to say that we Europeans, with our stress and lack of leisure time, have got it right? We may pity them for their poverty and the lack of what we consider basic amenities but they may pity us for our hectic lifestyle and the lack of work-life balance that we suffer to pay for it.

Kenya 31 December 2006

Final day. Pissing down rain. Decide to skip the final morning game drive. Little chance of seeing anything. (Good call - those who go see nothing new and waste over n hour hanging around at a rainswept airstrip waiting for a plane that fails to turn up).



Owing to unseasonally high rainfall, not only can we be smug about being in a Land Rover and towing everybody else out, we can be smug about our pre-booked flight back to Nairobi. Rivers rising above the level of a crucial bridge have blocked the only road out making the land route impassable. Those hoping to drive back are stuck. One person spends hours on the phone negotiating the charter of a plane at enormous cost.

After some concern that we ma be bumped off our flight to make way for those less prescient than ourselves but who are on earlier flights out of Nairobi, we eentually drive out to the airstrip and take the intended plane on a two hop flight on a 20-seater back to Nairobi.

On arrival in Nairobi we are given a note from the local rep saying he has been unable to find an alternative to the exhorbitantly priced meal at "Carnivores" (serving up steaks cut from all the game we've just seen). Never mind - the food here has been much better than Uganda and at least it has been local fare.

Transfer to Kenyatta. Buy the papers. Saddam Hussein has been hanged. Welcome back to the real world.

Kenya 30 December 2006

Getting immune to Masai women pressing their wares on us at the park gates. Getting amused by the taciturn teenagers. Too old to wave like the children; too young to smile with the aduts. Cool is the same the world over.

Follow the herd (of white vans) and find not game but a bogged down truck. Tow out three or four white vans that are stuck and a Japanese 4x4. A great advert for the Land Rover. All we lacked was Zara Philips to add glamour. Rewarded for our good deed by the sight of a cheetah. Then off the beaten track we find a herd of 500+ buffalo (Jenny's audit skills at counting animals from a moving truck - honed on the Devon moors - come into their own).

Afternoon game drive. Different part of the park. Hilly. In among a large herd of elephant. Then, tipped off by radio, we race to join a herd of white vans surrounding two lions sleeping off a meal - looks like a buffalo and calf. Then we all surround another big, male lion with half a buffalo carcase. Less than 20 ft from the lion but he's not interested in us. Too interested in the buffalo. Wonder what happened to the rest of it. Looks a very clean cut. No scattering of bones or messy edges. Sense a set up.

Kenya 29 December 2006

Day 2 dawns. Better weather. All day safari. See lions stalking antelope. More elephant. Ostriches, incongruously by a football pitch at a village in the middle of the park.

A long drive near the Tanzanian border and Mara River. Hippos wallowing in the water as the mid-day sun bakes down. A crocodile and hippo face off on the opposite bank.

We cross the bridge over the Mara to enter the TransMara part of the reserve. More open plain. Gone are the trees and low scrub. Herds of giraffe, zebra and wildebeest.

Idyllic picnic lunch under Acacia tree. then head further uphill with views back across to the Serengeti Plains of Tanzania. Swing off the track and follow tyre marks through the grass. Circle round and make out a small rocky outcrop where a family of cheetah are resting. Mother and five half-grown cubs. They are unperturbed and we get within 10 metres to take photos. Magical moment.

Lions at the roadside...blase. More herds of elephant.

The saga of the balloon flight! The local rep's suposed to have booked it but apparently couldn't get through on the phone. Then the weather was so bad that the operator said he couldn't get his 4x4 to the launch site or get to oick s up. Not good. A champagne breakfast is less appealing when you are on the menu. Some (esp. Morgan) are very upset. We're more sanguine. If the operator is turning down the better part of US$3,000 for a day's work he must mean it when he says it is too difficult and dangerous. And anyway, we won't see much if the weather's bad. We do drive round to another operator but he's fully booked. Who wants to waste a day hanging around for a flight that may never happen?

Kenya 28 December 2006

Pissing down rain. Use the ruts to steer the 4x4 Land Rover equipped with grandstand style seating on the back - cocooned in plastic and canvas. Arrive at the lodge. Park in the mud and progress through a tunnel of bushes to emerge at the reception. We're allocated tent 12, which looks out onto a clearing, populated with monkeys, around which the other tents are discreetly hidden. The tent is twice the size of that in Bwindi and like that has a double superstructure, supported on wood. Inside it has twin beds, bedside cabinets giving way to the bathroom/dressing room with shower with a giant head like those in the Savoy Hotel, sink cum vanity unit and indoor loo hidden behind wooden batwing saloon doors.



Late afternoon game drive into the Masai Mara. It's criss-crossed with tracks and a seemingly endless supply of white minivans with their sunroofs up.

We see a couple of elephants then head up a side-track for a closer look at some giraffe. On our way back, Gerrard takes the wrong rut and we get stuck. All out. Who's on lion-watch? With a little help from Adam and Morgan we get out.

See two lionesses and their cubs. Side-tracked again for more close ups of giraffes but on the way back we get a flat. Gerrard makes it back to the main track and we stop to take stock. The spare is flat too. Dusk falling. Who's on lionwatch?(!) That pair are only half a mile down the road. But the minivans are still gathered there so it's ok, isn't it? Gerrard radios for assistance. The other Siana Springs Land Rover turns up and we borrow its spare, frtunately fully inflated.

Glimpse a buffalo in the gloom near the park exit. make a ptstop at the Masai village by the entrance and leave the tyre to be fixed. Not a bad afternoon - 3 of the big 5 bagged.

Kenya 27/28 December 2006

Kenyatta again. This time through immigration, collect luggage and find the man with the EXPLORE sign. There are supposed to be eight of us but after 3/4s of an hour wait we conclude that no. 8 is a no-show. Make our way to minibuses to take us to Wilson Airport for the onward flight: Jenny and me; Jackie, a middle-aged woman who's just joined Gordon Brown at the Treasury (he eats in the staff restaurant and sometimes brings his kid in); Sarah, a headhunter; Adam and Rebecca, who're Navy; and Morgan, Irish, fresh from hand-rearing cheetah cubs and failed to read the note about the US$300 local payment and hasn't changed any money. Sarah subs him.

The local rep takes our money, agrees to organise a city tour of Nairobi and a meal to fill in the hours between 4pm and 9pm when we will be at a lose end during our return journey, and runs.

Longish wait for a smallish plane. Check in is on a first names only basis. We have to change planes at the first stop then make sure we get off at the right stop after that. It's like buses.

45 minute flight to land on a mud strip by a herd of zebra. Our bags are offloaded and we carry them ourselves across the mud and load them onto our third plane of the day. Spot the thatch roofed, open-sided hut that passes for the departure lounge. Two short hops and we're at our destination - Siana Springs Lodge, complete with its own airstrip.

Belfast 4/5 November 2006

Belfast 5 November 2006

Giant's Causeway. Another windy clifftop walk. It's smaller than we expected. Is that the Boot? Must be I suppose...Oh, no, here it is...I think. Too much whiskey from the nearby Bushmills Distillery fuelled the imagination of the people naming some of these formations.

The distillery itself is closed (guidebook and tourist ileaflet agree) but open when we decide to chance a visit - a developing theme. A fire alarm midway through the introductory film to the guided tour. (We'll help you save the stock!) Three whiskeys to taste. Jenny hates them all so I get hers. Sweeter, 16 year-old. Aged in sherry nd port barrels.

Dunluce Castle. Spectacular. Perched on a windswept headland. Sun set behind it.

Belfast 5 November 2006

Sunday morning dawns overcast. Spectacular Antrim coast road. Arrive at Carrick-a-rede rope bridge. The sign says closed for the end of the season on 31 October but, ambiguously, states "Open Today" underneath. A windswept clifftop walk to the bridge. The attendant helpfully informs us that the bridge will be dismantled tomorrow as it is worn out at the end of the season. He could have saved that till after the return crossing. Pose for photos on the bridge. Smile? No, gritting teeth and not looking down.

Belfast 4 November 2006

Flew Easyjet in the sale. Into Belfast International rather than the scarier option of Belfast City with its short runway and approach over the harbour. Picked up hre car and drove into the city avoiding the motorway to enter from the west. Irish tricolours.

Interesting exhibition at the City Hall in Donegal Square on the city's history to date - including the newly appointed Sinn Fein Mayor - and the fascinating old, wood-panelled Linen Hall Library. Walked the city centre to crooked Albert Memorial Clock Tower, Custom House, Harland and Wolf shipyard cranes, St Anne's Cathedral. Mountains at the end of every street. Back through the narrow, dingy, seedy alleys of the Setts.

Had a beer in The Crown, a Victorian saloon bar. Dark, low-ceilinged with private booths that you can reserve for (ordinary looking) lunch. Only missing the fug of cigarette smoke to complete the nostalgic timewarp.

Drive out of town following signs to Carrickfergus while Jenny falls asleep. Blowy walk around the harbour and castle.

Take the coast road to our hotel - a converted 17th century castle, complete with haunted tower. http://www.hastingshotels.com/index.cfm/aID/202/Content_Key/592/type/category/CatName/Ballygally_Castle.html
There's a wedding party expected when we arrive (my heart sinks) but the friendly service is maintained without a hitch. Nice meal in the quiet restaurant. Knock on the bedroom door..."Oh. You're not my father-in-law." Can only agree with that.

Uganda 9 December 2006

Morning drive to the equator. Stop. Watch water spiral out clockwise and anti-clockwise a few metres apart on either side of the equator then flow straight down on the equator itself.

Petrol stop in Masakah. Mateo asks us if we want lunch. It's a bit early but there is, he says, nowhere to eat for the next three hours. Okay then. It turns out that just round the corner is the same place he stopped at for lunch on the way out. Definitely on commission.

Again no buffet. Chips with everything. Except everything bar the fish is off. So those who ordered chicken and chips just got chips!

Enter Kampala. Some roadworks or an accident are blocking the main road in. We go round the houses and see, amongst other places of interest, the Catholic Cathedral and President's Palace.

Entebbe Airport. Check in very orderly and it turns out the onward connecting flight from Kenyatta is no longer cancelled. Some are put out: "But we wanted a night in Nairobi." Others are not dressed for UK arrival but for overnight in African temperatures. Cue hasty unpacking of longer, heavier, warmer clothes.

Change Ugandan shilligs for Kenyan and go through passport control. Spend the last Ugandan coins on coffee and cakes in the airport cafe.

Uneventful flight back to Nairobi - crossing the Equator for the 5th time in as many days. Southbound again - see how the other half lives.

Again Kenyan Airways informaton is good. Check at the service desk that we have veggie food ordered. They confirm the instructions (that are carried out).

Wait in departure lounge. Tedious, junk TV. The flight leaves less than an hour late. Re-cross the Equator. Northbound. Homeward.

Uganda 8 December 2006 cont.

It's over. Scramble back uphill to retrieve our packs and exit the forest. Emerge high on the hill. Stop for lunch. Take in scenery - green hills and dramatic mountains in the distance.


Awesome is an over-used word but I can't think of any other to use. It is the only way to describe the sense of wonder at being so close to some of the last 750 mountain gorillas in the world. They have babies. The population was down to 650 a decade ago. But for how long? When will some human upheaval eradicate them or their environment? A pessimistic view of their prospects for survival.



Another scramble back down the hill to the bus. Back to the village. One last haggle secures a candlestick at less than half the original asking price. Then grab the luggage and into the bus for the long drive back.

Mateo breaks the news that our overnight flight back from Kenyatta has been cancelled so we will have to overnight in Nairobi. General dismay at disarranged plans. Also going back same route we drove out from Kampala instead of going via Queen Elizabeth National Reserve due to bad roads. Disappointing but we're less concerned than others as we are going to Kenya shortlyso hope to see the game there.

Overnight at Lakeview Hotel. Colonial feel. Buffet meal including local dishes (at last!) Say goodbye to Joseph of the prodigious driving feats.

Uganda 8 December 2006

First sight - a youngish male in a tree overhead. Then a baby. Where's the mother? Nearby.

Silverback. Huge. Impressive. 25 stones? In the trees 20 metres downhill from us. We are practically level with him. Completely impervious to us he grasps brnches and chews on selected leaves.

The whole family is in the trees around and above us. Lazing. Eating. A female climbs overhead, pees then defecates, scattering us. Deliberate? Who knows? A message to her nearest relatives?

A mother and baby clinging on. Peering down at us, shyly. Curious.

After nearly an hour the silverback descends. The mother and baby come down within feet of Nadia. She is petrifies and delighted at the same time. Eye contact. No fear on the part of the gorilla.

We move down the hill. The silverback settles on the ground maybe 20 ft from us. Others are closer. Two juveniles barely ten feet away through the bushes.

Our hour is up but the guide says we have a few minutes more as they've just come down.

The silverback swngs away downhill. Snaps a young tree on his way - sheer exuberance.

A mother and baby swing down right in front of us. She agile, the baby clinging on. Mooch off.

The juvenile males pass behind us less than four feet away. A casual glance at us. No threat. I feel completely safe.