South Africa

South Africa

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South Africa is at the southernmost tip of Africa.

The history of racial segregation (which ended in the 1990) has transformed to it now being known as the “Rainbow Nation” for its multicultural population.

Country #99 Territory # 138

To say that this is a long held bucket list item is a bit silly. The idea of heading over here and doing a Safari to see the big 5 is pretty much on everybody’s bucket list. But safety is of real concern in certain areas of South Africa.

South Africa has three capitals Pretoria (administrative), Bloemfontein (judicial) and Cape Town (parliamentary), and 12 official languages. The largest, most populous city is Johannesburg, followed by Cape Town and Durban.

Covering over 1.2 million square kilometres (a bit smaller than the Northern Territory),

Cape Town

Our entry into South Africa was to be into Cape Town where we had a couple of days and then we would travel further around into Port Elizabeth where we were booked on our long awaited safari.

While it was possible to get a safari in from Cape Town, the transits were big and the time with animals was short. And besides that, there was plenty of good stuff to see around Cape Town.

Number one Tourist item on the list when it comes to Cape Town is Table Mountain, a massive flat topped plateau sitting a kilometre straight up and looming over the town. It is the top tourist attraction, accessed by a rotating cable car. It is also the first thing that you see when you enter from the ocean.

As we were entering at about 6am the morning mist gave the table a tablecloth (orographic clouds to be a bit more scientifically accurate).

It is easy to get to, but it is not easy (or cheap) to get there in a timely manner. Especially when you are on a limited time frame and are competing with a whole ship full of people all trying to get up the same hill. Tickets to get up start at about $10 but if you want to fast track the (4-5 hour line) then that number jumps to $100 each.

Arriving on day one we opted to jump on a day trip, being somewhat anti-social we opted for a tour for two, which meant we paid more (about $600 for the day) but could move at our pace and not that of the slowest person on the ship. Even though we paid more, it still worked about half of what the equivalent shore excursion on the ship, and we would have been jammed in a bus with about 40 people.

Our tour was scheduled to take us down the coastline through a range of coastal towns and stunning bays, to the Cape of Good Hope, before heading back up and through the wine district of Stellenbosch. As our winery tour was scheduled in the morning, we did it all in reverse order,

So being a bit early off the ship, we hooked up with our driver and headed off earlier than planned. This meant that we did not have to sprint to the winery and instead could meander right throughout the wine district before arriving at our scheduled stop.

Our guide seemed a bit obsessed about prisons mentioning one as we drove past it) and one of our first stops was at another. As it turs out, the last 3 prisons that Nelson Mandela was incarcerated in were here. We visited two of them and Robben Island was clearly visible in the middle of the bay.

So our first official stop (after the impromptu prison visits) was at the Simonsig Winery in the heart of the Stellenbosch district. A stunning location, cellar tour, really nice wines and some amazing food at a very reasonable cost made for a pretty cruisy way to start our day.

So from here we picked up our itinerary headed towards and around False bay, stopping at a bunch of coastal towns, as we headed towards the Cape of Good Hope. Along the way we would stop at a penguin colony (Cape of Good Hope Nature Reserve Penguin Colony) an ostrich farm and see a bunch of baboons.

We stopped at False Bay, Muizenberg, Kalk Bay, Simonstown and of course the Cape of Good Hope National park. Most importantly on the drive we passed what our guide referred to as informal settlements. Specifically we drove past the informal settlement of Khayelitsha. Meaning “New Home” in the Bantu language of Xhosa it was established in 1983 during apartheid, it was intended to house Black South Africans forcibly relocated under segregation laws.

In the heart of the township is a small planned development with shops and roads that has been subsumed by refugees who have set up temporary shelters made of salvaged corrugated iron and whatever else could be found. At present it is believed that the population of the township is over a million people.

The official government spiel cites that affordable and formal housing options are limited, leading to an expansion of informal settlement. Housing insecurity and crime are some of the pressing issues. Job opportunities within the township are limited giving rise to an increase in small businesses. Issues related to gangsterism.

As we were driving past the guide was telling us of the growth of the townships, claiming that Khayelitsha was the second largest in the country behind Soweto (in Johannesburg). While he did say that conditions were improving, as we turned a corner (skirting the outside) we came across forced government evictions as the township grew beyond what was considered a reasonable boundary.

Having left the informal settlement, our next scheduled stop was at some flashy seafood restaurant by the ocean at one of the coastal towns. That all seemed a bit much to us so opted instead for some local fish and chips by the water in a neighbourhood, next to the local markets.

From here it was time to head back to town, following along the coastal road and skirting South Africa’s 12 Apostles mountain Range.

To say that this was an impressive drive is a major understatement as you have long periods of stunning coastlines, flash houses and just generally some pretty nice scenery.

We passed places like Camps Bay, Clifton Bay, Noordhoek, Hout Bay, Chapman’s Peak Drive, Cape Point and Llandudno. Most of these are coastal residential towns and suburbs of Cape Town. Llandudno has no shops or commercial activities but does have some of the most expensive property in South Africa. The beach is one of the Cape’s most beautiful (but unswimmable) beaches, surrounded by large granite boulders and overlooked by mountains.

The next day we were up early again and hopped an Uber straight to Table Mountain, where we used our fast pass to get to the top quickly. It worked exactly as promised, bypassing the long lines and delivering you at the front of the queue, directly in front of the gondola doors. We would have been lucky to have waited 3 minutes, a long stretch from the 3-5 hours the $10 ticket promised. Admittedly we were up early and I’m sure at that time the line would have been much shorter.

We had been warned about baboons at the top, but did not see any. We arrived to crystal clear skies with some wispy clouds and strong winds. While we were up on the mountain we watched the clouds roll in and subsume Lion’s Head and then start climbing the peak that we were perched atop. We watched it roll up the mountain and form the tablecloth that we had seen the day before on entry.

This obviously messed with our clear views, and made the mountain cold and windy, so we headed back down on the gondola cableway, hopped an Uber and made our way back to the waterfront. From here we meandered the waterfront taking in all the pretty tourist stuff, checking out the sculptures and trinket shops. One store sold the most amazing sculptures but the idea of shipping a 2 tonne rock carving to our rental property just didn’t work for us.

Needless to say that the trinket prices at the waterfront were not exactly budget friendly, so I found a more local market a few kilometres away. Having been at sea for the preceding period, a good walk was well overdue. So off we went.

This was exactly the tourist junk that you imagine when you think about Africa. Paintings, carvings, sculptures, drums, animal skins, brightly coloured clothing, scarfs, fans dolls, masks, you name it…it was there. But surprisingly, nothing was cheap. In a town where you can get a pint of beer for $4 and a great meal for under $10 the idea of paying $70-80 for a shitty t-shirt seemed unreasonable.

Don’t get me wrong, there was haggling to be done, but their bottom prices were well above what I would consider reasonable. By way of example, the hat pins that Jill has been collecting all the way around the planet usually start at about $1 and are mostly all bought for $2. In certain expensive places they have been $4. But in South Africa, the cheap ones start at $8.50 and the ones of average quality are about $12.

I did find a wooden map of Africa with the big 5 carved into it, and one of those really ugly African type shirts. So the negotiations began. First the shirt, how much? 900 rand ($82), ok thanks. How much you pay? I don’t spend $80 on a shirt. OK how much you pay? 200 rand ($18). OK 800 rand, no thanks. Give me your best price. 200 rand, give me a reasonable offer… 200 rand. Ok 700 rand…no thanks. and I left

The wooden map went exactly the same but the lady started at 700 rand ($64), ok thanks. How much you pay? Not that much. OK how much you pay? 200 rand ($18). OK 650 rand, no thanks. Give me your best price. 200 rand, give me a reasonable offer… 200 rand. Ok 400 rand, no thanks and while I walked away I heard the magic words OK 200 rand.

So I got it. On the way out I walked past the ugly shirt stall (hoping I would get a similar response). The man saw me and said so you came back to get the shirt, how much you pay…200 rand…silence…so I continued to walk away…silence.

No ugly shirt for me.

At this point we had been walking and touring most of the day without a toilet stop.

While hunting, Jill saw this sign. This amused us both greatly.

A little further on we found a venue that had a suitable level of plumbing available.

As it happens, we found multiple venues over the next few hours that happened to be in between where we were and where we wanted to be. Many, if not all served refreshing local beverages while also having acceptable ablution options .

Having sampled the local wares, we found ourselves back at the ship, in need of an afternoon nap.

Port Elizabeth

Our next stop was to a town known by many names, it was Port Elizabeth for us, but was also known as Gqeberha (in the local language) and is sometimes called Nelson Mandela Bay. The town is a major manufacturing hub (mainly automobiles) that had been decimated by a 2017 Trump decision that American manufacturers should make products in America. This led to the exit of General motors (who had been there since 1926). At the same time Citroen moved out and shortly afterwards Covid hit, virtually destroying the town.

Now the name Gqeberha presents some challenging pronunciation challenges. It comes from the Xhosa language which for those of you that do not know is the funny clicking and popping language of Africa. The Q in the middle represents a click sound and towards the end there is a xc (tsch) type sound before the ha. This makes the final word sounding something like…

G (click) eh beh xcha

The guide on our safari (the reason that we were actually here) tried to give us some local words but the click and the tsch sounds made it sound like a child with a lisp popping bubble wrap. Too much for me.

So we were off to the Amakhala game reserve to attempt to see the renowned ‘Big 5’ (Lion, Leopard, Water Buffalo, Elephant and Rhino). Upon arrival we were urgently ushered into our vehicles for what turned into a 3-4 hour bladder rattling 4WD drive ride over rough terrain. Remember the urgently ushered bit…I didn’t pee before getting on.

From here we were off in search of our safari adventure. In fact 4 bus loads of us were. We were shoved into our 4WDs in groups of 9 (three rows of three) and off we went. The first thing that we saw was within about 2 minutes when a warthog came trotting past. Our guide introduced it as a Pumba. Now I do know that Pumba was the warthog character in the Disney Lion King movie. In Swahili the word “Pumba” translates to “careless, foolish, ignorant, lazy, stupid, and negligent.” Apparently these terms align well with the characteristics of the African warthog. I don’t know which came first (the movie or them calling them Pumba) but it is the common name today.

OK I will start with telling the truths about a safari.

At the end of your day of ‘bone rattling’ 4WD adventuring, you will look at your photos and find that about 70% of everything you did that day was take photos of animals asses as they run away from you.

This started with our Pumba (warthog) and continued throughout the rest of the day.

Our driver was a young African girl who had clearly not been driving for very long. She did not anticipate that the big bump she was about to drive over may launch her passengers into orbit (something she did many times. In fact my butt spent more time airborne than on the seat.

The idea of clutch control was entirely foreign to her and (without any exaggeration) she would have stalled the vehicle that we were in over 100 (maybe double that) in the few hours that we were out adventuring. She put the side of the vehicle (and us) into African Thorn bushes and reversing was not here strong suit either. She ran over bushes, crashed into trees and rammed into sand banks while going backwards.

But we did get to see animals. The first lot were the pumba (warthogs) antelope and springbok, along with some pretty amazing birds of prey (like the secretary bird) and some little suckers that lapped our car feasting on the insects that we stirred up.

After this we started to run into some more of the herd style animals like the Zebra, more antelopes (kudu, springbok, impala etc), wildebeests.

A bit later we got the call that there were some cheetahs near the fence line of the park, so off we went. Sure enough, three of them just kicking back in the heat and paying us no attention, despite the fact that we were just meters away.

Next was a call that there were lions about. So off we went. At the opposite fence line we saw a male and female lion on the opposite side of the fence (in the next door nature reserve). While we were all busy taking photos, wishing the fence was not in the way, we were all oblivious to the fact that not 2 meters away (on our side of the fence) was a huge male lion asleep under a bush. When the car moved to get a better view of the two on the left, we spotted the one on the right and almost soiled our pants.

The car was not quiet, we stopped 2m from a wild lion and all of us had our backs to it, oblivious of its presence. This could have ended very differently. But it didn’t. The lion slept, our driver managed to put us in a terrible position to get a photo (a common theme for most of the day) and after a while we set off to find elephants (which we never found).

On the way we did find about 6 giraffes and on our journey to lunch we also ran into a trio of Rhinos.

Back to our driver, she really had some issues, the one that came to a head was when she did not know where to take us for lunch. This was OK when we were following others but at some point she got distracted and managed to bog the vehicle the others moved on and there was nobody to follow. After riding up and down tracks for a while she called it in. At this point we had to be rescued by another guide, who we followed to where we were meant to be.

We were the last 4WD in (of 4 bus loads of people) and all the seats and almost all of the food was gone. The clients were having their second and third helpings and the staff were even on their seconds. We got half a sausage and a bit of rice and found no seats, and no utensils to eat with. Jill hit a level of pissed that is rarely seen.

Lunch over we did the run back to the starting point, while still taking in some more animals and little herds along the way. In the end we only saw 2 of the big 5 (Lion and Rhino) but did get others that were very cool. My (phone) camera was wildly unsuitable, and the borrowed one from Jill’s mum also proved a nightmare. None of this was helped by our driver who would stop the car and just as you zoomed and found focus would let the car roll or move it.

But despite all of this…we had a great day.

Bus back to the ship, then onto a shuttle bus to the local shopping mall to try buy some trinkets. Just like the Cape Town trinkets the ones in Gqeberha were no better priced. I did see some amazing backpacks for the little kids, but $70 for a tiny bag seemed excessive.

The pins were once again going for 150 rand each ($13.60) for the crappy glued on version. I got online afterwards and found that I could get the good painted ones (that don’t peel off) for 16 rand ($1.45). The t-shirts were over $60 each…So we left with nothing.

Our time in South Africa had been great. It was a tester for certain, but the test was positive and we would definitely return. Clearly a one day safari was insufficient, but by the same token, I don’t think I would want to do any more than about 3 days. Picking a safari lodge off the cruise ship traffic and with smaller groups.

The flights are reasonable ($1000-1200ish) and for the same amount again you will get a 4 day safari in the Kruger national park (leaving from Johannesburg). Accommodation, food and beverage prices in the cities are reasonable (in fact very cheap by Aussie standards). The only big question mark is safety.

Certainly we did not at any time feel unsafe, but we were in tourist central, in two of the safest towns. The really good safaris leave from Joburg, which has a terrible reputation for safety. I cannot comment on this, but I’m sure that if you take reasonable precautions then it would be fine.

Namibia

Namibia

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Country #98 Territory # 137

It has been a while since a new country got added (for me at least) but here we are, one more closer to the goal of 100.

 Sitting in South West Africa Namibia is bordered by Angola, Zambia, Botswana, and South Africa.

Its capital and largest city is Windhoek and it is the driest country south of the Sahara.

Namibia is home to the world’s oldest desert (the Namib), which is known for its towering dunes, such as those at Sossusvlei. Namibia was the first country in the world to incorporate environmental protection into its constitution (receiving independence from South Africa in 1990).

Walvis Bay

Our entry to Namibia was via Walvis Bay which is the second largest city in Namibia covering about 29 square kilometres while with a population of around 100K, the bay provides the only deep water harbour in the country (being protected by the Pelican Point sand spit).

Walvis Bay is one of the driest cities on Earth – it has a very rare climate which is classified as ‘cold desert’ and receives only 13.2 millimetres of precipitation a year.

Arrival at port saw a few dancing girls and a lot of mining sized trucks and evidence of a pretty healthy (Chinese backed) petroleum industry. I did get to stare at some property development advertisements and found that for about $60K Australian you could but a 3 bedroom unit in a new estate.

The town itself is only a few kilometres wide with a very overt series of sand dunes barely being held back. It is easy to imaging that if left alone that this town would be swallowed by the dunes withing a very short period of time.

Our entry was less than auspicious with the cruise company offering a free shuttle bus to the local shopping mall. Namibia is clearly not high on the tourist market and the thought of catering to it revolved around a single stall in the middle isle of the mall. So off we went and were back almost within the hour.

To be fair the mall didn’t totally suck, it was interesting to see the prices of every day items and the range of items that were available in what is a pretty remote part of the world. The meat products were cheap and abundant, while the fruit and vegetables did not share the same fate.

To say that Namibian males are slim is an understatement. This particularly rang true when we went into a menswear store and found sizes of pants (measured in inches) with numbers so low that they were almost single digit waist measurements. Safe to say I have not worn pants that size since primary school.

At this point we found ourselves (along with everyone else who had the same experience) negotiating with private 4WD operators holding up the same sandwich boards of desert tours.

All of the tours were virtually identical, but the prices varied greatly on your negotiation skills, interest, intent and belligerence. The main things to see in Namibia are the deserts. With limited time and being on the coast we were not able to explore the real highlights, but were only able to look at some sand dunes in the Namib Desert.

Just north and south of the township are some bays, one has flamingos, one has seals and in between are black tarmac roads keeping the two chunks of sand apart. As soon as you do even the slightest of turns off the tarmac you are immediately in the Namib Desert and surrounded by some major sand dunes. As you hug the coast, you get the views of some pretty big dunes and a nice ocean.

The bays had their obligatory seal and flamingo populations, but without getting on a kayak (something I do not do) you dont really get that close to the animals. A girl we had dinner with regularly did go kayaking and told stories of cutting off fishing gear from seals and even nursing a baby seal at one point.

About 8km from town is a 5000 hectare saltworks that has been operating for more than 60 years thanks to the region’s arid climate and coastal winds, (ideal for evaporating seawater).

The real highlights are the Sossusvlei and the Deadvlei (almost 400km and 6 hrs away) – obviously too far away for us to have visited, but certainly worthy of coming back to. In doing my research I came across the site https://stingynomads.com that provided some great information (that I paraphrased from and stole a selection of photos for illustration only) of what we missed.

Sossusvlei

Sossusvlei sits in the Namib-Naukluft National Park is one of the most spectacular and best-known attractions in Southern Africa. The scenery is so incredible it makes anyone look like a professional photographer! The name Sossusvlei refers to a large area in the park including famous sites such as Dune 45, Deadvlei, Big Daddy.

Big Daddy is the highest dune in the park. At 325 meters high, Big Daddy is the highest dune in Sossusvlei, but not the highest in Namib, the highest dune in the Namib desert is Dune 7 outside Swakopmund at about 388 meters high.

Deadvlei

Deadvlei is an area in the park that is mostly made up of a major clay/salt pan and dead trees. The pan was formed when the Tsauchab River flooded and the abundance of water allowed camel thorn trees to grow. However, the climate changed and the sand dunes encroached on the pan, blocking the river from reaching the area. The trees are estimated to be approximately 900 years old, however they have not decomposed due to the dry climate.

If you are into desert landscapes (which to be fair are seriously impressive) then there is much to explore in Namibia. Needless to say, the best way to explore these areas are with a 4WD and a bunch of camping gear. Jill and I were talking about it and while agreeing it was probably not a major destination country, but if you rolled it into a bit of a road trip then it was definitely worth a look.

Monaco

Monaco

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Monaco is the second smallest sovereign state in the world, after Vatican City.

It is situated on the French Riviera, and is bordered by France on 3 sides and the Mediterranean Sea to the other.

It has a population of under 40,000 and an area just over 2 square kilometres.

When we started this journey to reach 100 countries, I was about 15 countries ahead of Jill. Over time this gap has closed considerably to the point where I was 2 ahead (PNG where I was born and spent the first 4 years of my life, and Monaco a trip in the late 1990’s). So as our cruise ship was stopping in Cannes (France) we hatched a scheme to get off the ship, dash to the train station and ride the 65 minutes to get to Monaco, explore the 2 square kilometres and dash back in time to get back on the ship before it left.

Plan hatched, all we really knew was about the casino, the car race and Princess Grace (Grace Kelly – and even she was mostly before our time).

Grace Kelly (1929 – 1982) was an American Actress who became Princess Grace of Monaco, after her (1956) marriage to Prince Rainier III.

The Monte Carlo Grand Prix is a Formula one race that started in 1929 and has been running as a regular F1 race since the 1950’s.

The track has remained substantially unchanged since its creation. As a city circuit, it closely follows the road system. 

Having hopped off the train we found ourselves quite literally on the F1 track, at the point where the cars turn to climb the hill. On race day it looks like the below (image taken from Wiki) and without racing it has the statue and church (Sainte-Dévote Chapel).

The first thing you notice is that you are surrounded by buildings that we could never afford to live in, Yachts worth more than most houses, and overpriced and overly showy cars. As the day evolves you also notice a great number of Russian accents attached to the drivers and associates of the car owners.

The Casino was somewhere I came and wasted $50 back in the 1990’s (just to say I did). The situation is a little different today. Now you have to pay 20 euros just to get in and have a look. The idea of paying money, to be able to waste your money seemed ludicrous. So we looked at all that was free , took some happy snaps and kept exploring the rest of the 2km that is Monaco- Monte Carlo.

The place is impeccably clean (almost as clean as Japan) and the restaurants , marinas and boardwalks are pleasant and inviting (if exorbitantly priced.

Monaco was nice and pretty, but there really was nothing there to see or do. There was nothing in terms of a soul, and while we can claim the box tick, there was not much more to recommend making the journey here, in terms of either time or cost.

Italy

Rome and beyond

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This post is a bit late in coming but as you will see, the days that followed were somewhat hectic to say the least. This represents the las bit of my travel with my sister, our re-connection with Jill and our subsequent cruising around Italy (and beyond).

Having hopped off the ship in Southampton, Karin and I found ourselves with about 9 hours to kill before our late afternoon flight back to Amsterdam. So the day was spent poking about (with our big bags) just hoping to find a comfortable place to hang out so that the many hours could pass as painlessly as possible.

This was made even more annoying when upon landing in Amsterdam they alerted us to smoke on the airplane. As soon as we were alerted, both Karin and I came to the same conclusion, that the group of Russians on the plane (who had ignored or disregarded every other rule or instruction) had been smoking in the toilets.

This saw us getting off the plane to a few fire engines and some boys in breathing apparatus. And while they checked out the plane, we sat for about an hour and a half, waiting for our luggage to finally be cleared and removed from the plane. This made a late (ish) arrival a very late arrival, cutting down our dinner options to almost nothing…McDonalds…which in hindsight was worse than nothing. We ended up paying almost $50 for a really crappy burger and a few chips.

The next morning we were up early and on a bus to the airport, on the flight and off to Rome. Upon arrival we collected our luggage, met Jill, and cabbed it to our accommodation in the heart of town (right near the main train station (Termini). A quick bite to eat at out closest restaurant and off on an afternoon exploration.

The first thing to do was to grab a 3 day train pass (all you can ride) and hop on the metro (a short walk from our hotel) for the Colosseum. Jill had pre-booked us an all inclusive pass into the Colosseum and the Roman Forum. The booking had us milling about for quite a while (there are now assigned time slots when you can enter). Being punctual people, we were early for our guide, who was early for the appointed time, and the guard were anal on the time that you could enter.

So in essence we sat around in some crazy crowds, for over an hour, rebuffing the approaches of the incessant touts offering us tickets, water, travel batteries and the like. And this continued, and continued, and continued until we were finally allowed to enter the Colosseum. On the up side, last time we were here, the whole thing was covered in scaffolding and the photos sucked. But this time the place was pretty much scaffold free and the photos were good.

The other big change, the first time that we came (and entered the Colosseum) the arena was closed to the public. But as of now, the Arena has been reopened and you can stand on the ground level while getting fantastic views of the sub-floor. This includes the trap doors where lions etc were set upon unsuspecting gladiators. To say that this was seriously cool is a massive understatement.

A bit longer in the Colosseum checking out the various levels and our day could continue.

After the Colosseum it was off to the Roman Forum, Circus Maximus and Palatine Hill. But after an early start, some waiting around on hard surfaces and a healthy amount of walking, this ended up being a rather abridged exploration. But this took us back to a magnificent meal near the hotel and an early crash before yet another big day tomorrow.

As it turned out, we picked the worst possible weekend ever to be in Rome. Our arrival on Friday (and the Saturday) happened to coincide with the arrival of thousands of pilgrims. Don’t get me wrong here, modern day Rome is so much busier than on our first few forays, but our weekeend had the pilgrims arriving Sat/Sun. On the Sunday the pope was hosting a mass in St Peter’s where he was to name another 20 new saints (hence the pilgrims) and on the other side of the river was the Rome half marathon.

Anyway, day 2. We were up early for a breakfast (coffee, juice, omelette, toast and pastry for 10 Euros) and back on the metro to St Peters. The main square was a mess (pilgrims and setting up for the papal mass etc) so we got a few happy snaps and headed around the corner for the Vatican Museum tour (including the Sistine Chapel).

Same as the day before, we were early, the tour guide allowed extra time, and the lines were crazy long. So we spent the better part of an hour and a half on our feet before we had seen anything other than a brick wall. But eventually that all passed and we got moving…sort of.

Because you only have a few minutes in the Sistine Chapel, and no photography is allowed, you pull up in the above courtyard where there are a series of 3 photoboards. These photoboards show all of the images and paintings contained within the Sistine Chapel, and without the time restrictions, the guides described each of the images in a varying degree of detail.

Our guide decided on extreme detail. So we stood in the sun for 90 minutes (well Jill did) Karin and I took photos of the 3 boards, found a seat and followed along with the audio commentary from about 30 meters away. Eventually she finished and the tour continued with a maze of corridors and religious bling.

Statues, carvings, ceilings, paintings, you name it, it is in here. I will refrain from comments about national debts, poor and starving people, but looking at suck lavish displays of overt wealth, it really does make you wonder.

After the Sistine Chapel we got held up in a corridor and got to witness the changing of the Swiss Guards (in their ludicrously coloured uniforms) but, you guessed it…no photography. From here it was down into St Peters Basilica for a poke about and some photos.

On my first foray here I climbed to the top of the base and then climbed the dome to overlook the papal gardens. The thought of doing this in modern times seems impossible. Maybe it was our crazy weekend choice, or maybe it is just the massive increase in human traffic in the area. This is quite simply the busiest place I have ever been (and it didn’t use to be this bad).

Getting about modern day Rome is akin to getting out of a major sporting event. You grab your possessions, enter the human traffic flow and just shuffle your feet until you eventually achieve your goal or find your way to a clear path.

After our early start (a recommendation for anyone who wishes to visit) it was mid afternoon and everyone was pooped. So it was back to the hotel for a rest, before a nice dinner and yet another early start the next day.

We were up early on the Sunday morning and made sure to go nowhere near the Vatican and Papal Mass. So it was on the Metro and off to see the Trevi Fountain. A bit like the Colosseum, last time we were here it was being cleaned and was covered in scaffolding. But not today, and our early start meant we had the place basically to ourselves.

A bit further on and we were in Piazza Navona (where our other sister (Lynn) used to live and her son was born). Some happy snaps and a wander about before heading down the alleys to find a statue of the monk Bruno (Lynn took an amazing photo of it back in the day). But on the day we were there it was surrounded by a busy and bustling Sunday market. Our chances of recreating the photo was nil.

The Monument to Giordano Bruno, created by the Grand Master Mason Ettore Ferrari, was erected in 1889 at Campo de’ Fiori square in Rome.

It was erected to commemorate Bruno, (the Italian philosopher) who was burned there in 1600.

On our way back we stopped at Piazza Navona so that Karin could have her gelato (a tick box for her). We arrived just as the first runners (African) in the half marathon came sprinting past. And I mean sprinting. These guys had been going for an hour, but were at full tilt as they went past us.

We set up in the cafe, had a coffee and Karin had her gelato, while we cheered on the runners as they went past.

Did you spot the mistake?

We were now in a cafe with the running track between us and where we needed to be. In the beginning there was plenty of room to cross between runners. But by the time we had drunk our leisurely coffees, the also-rans were coming and there was a wall of humanity, that we had to cross. We managed to make it out of the cafe and got a few blocks away, but…you guessed it…the metro station was blocked by the track.

This became the story of the day. And for the next two hours we tried to find a way to get to the metro station (any metro station), while avoiding what had now become a massive fun run field, with zero gaps to cross. I darted across at one point, while a policeman screamed at me, (leaving Jill and Karin a window to cross) while I waved my arms about saying no habla. He was unimpressed.

But for all of that, we found ourselves at the bottom of the Spanish steps (wanna guess?) on the wrong side of the runners.

We tried on multiple occasions to cross to no avail. I eventually joined the race, jogged with them and crabbed my way across, Jill did similar and made it.

Karin was the last to cross and rather than the crab move she tried a more direct route. This led to a squark, some waving of arms and now it was her turn to be yelled at in Italian.

Anyway we were across, and the metro station was in sight. We had walked (and jogged) way further than we had intended, but we were done. We made it back to the hotel, Jill and I packed our bags (we would leave Karin here for a couple of days) while we headed off on a cruise (more to follow). In the mean time Karin would keep exploring Rome for a couple of days before heading on to Barcelona.

So Jill and I hopped a train to Civitavecchia (the cruise port closest to Rome) crashed for the night and boarded our ship. But before doing so we met up with Patrick and Anna (our Swedish friends from the ill-fated tilty ship and various Caribbean beaches). We would have the next 9 days together exploring the world.

Naples

We had both been to Naples before, Jill raided the kitchen of a pizzeria (Naples is the home of Pizza) to get the secret to making the perfect base (which they were happy to share). And after a general amount of wandering about town we also spent a day on the train to visit the nearby Pompeii and Herculaneum.

But this time it was just about hanging out and eating the food. While walking up the hill I spotted my ultimate weakness (sfogliatella) in a bakery and had to stop.

The first thing that you see when arriving at the port is the Castel Nuovo is a medieval castle directly in front of Piazza Municipio and the city hall (Palazzo San Giacomo).

On our way up the hill we came across one of the flashiest shopping malls that you will ever see (Galleria Umberto) sitting directly across from the San Carlo opera house. Which is the oldest continuously active venue for opera in the world, having opened in 1737, decades before either Milan’s La Scala or Venice’s La Fenice.

Directly beside the opera house is the Royal Palace of Naples that fronts the Piazza del Plebiscito (named after the plebiscite taken on 21 October 1860, that brought Naples into the unified Kingdom of Italy under the house of Savoy.

We kept climbing the hill, following Jill who had a plan of where the best pizza could be sourced, After about an hour of uphill walking, past dog turds at every turn (apparently picking up after your dog in not a thing that Italians do) when the heavens opened. We found shelter at an overpriced (but dry) café where some coffee and nibbles briefly staved off the drowning that would eventually follow.

After a period, it was clear that there would be no let up to the rain and that our only options were to brave it. This saw Patrick spending 10 euros for the worst umbrellas that were ever made (did not even make the day), Jill had her Fluro pink rain jacket (which ended up leaching the colour) and I just got soaked. But we made it down the hill and into a pizza joint, for some pretty spectacular pizzas.

Messina

The next stop for us was a new one, we had made it further south (in Italy) than ever before and made it to the southern island of Sicily, more particularly the town of Messina. As seems to be the case for all of the coastal Italian towns, they are all built on the side of a damn mountain.

There is a beautiful seaside, some nice piazza’s and buildings and then a damn cliff that needs to be climbed to see some more cool old buildings.

In Messina the thing to see (perched high on the hilltop) is the Temple of Christ the King. But on the way up the hill, we came across another fairly impressive shopping mall.

But of course, the main event was at the top of the hill and was the “Tempio di Cristo Re”. It is an ornate 11th-century Catholic church and war memorial with some pretty fair views of the harbour. Thankfully there was also a nice little café that served refreshments.

The trek down the hill took you past some pretty cool sights that were much more enjoyable after the aforementioned refreshments.

Back in the main square and we found ourselves in front of the Cathedral of Messina and more importantly, its Astronomical Clock. The bell tower of the Cathedral contains the biggest and most complex mechanical and astronomical clock in the world. Designed by the French it was installed in 1933 and is the city’s main attraction going off at noon each day.

Into the banking district for a bit, a bite to eat (and some more refreshments)

And no trip to Messina is complete without mentioning the “Stele della Madonna della Lettera” (our lady of the letter).

The statue was donated to Messina by General Ferdinando Loffredo, at the end of the siege of 1848-1849.

It stands about 60 metres high, topped by a gilded statue of the Virgin Mary holding the letter.

At the base of the stele, there is the Latin inscription ‘Vos et ipsam civitatem benedicimus’ (We bless you and the city), a phrase that sanctions Mary’s perpetual blessing on Messina.

La Spezia

Le Spezia was our last port of call in Italy. Usually most people use this as a launching point to do day trips to either Florence or Pisa. But as I had already been to both, and the idea of sitting on a bus for hours to see a poorly built tower did not appeal to Jill, we stayed and explored La Spezia, which was actually really good.

The port and docks were stunning, as were the parks and the regular markets. On the day we were there (on top of the regular markets) , the streets turned into a maze of massive open air markets.

So we explored. Our enjoyment was furthered by one of the best days we had received since leaving Rome, blue skies, warm sunshine…just lovely.

We found a nice spot for a light lunch and just generally had a great day.

Spain

Northern Spain

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Our second cruise was a 7 night Northern Spain Cruise taking in 4 cities a bit off the usual tourist trail (Barcelona, Madrid, Seville, Cordoba etc). Most interesting for me was that they were 4 towns that I had never previously been to (Bilbao, La Coruna, Vigo and Gijon.

So I could experience them brand new too.

Bilbao

Bilbao was first on the list, it is the eleventh largest city in Spain but largest in the province (Biscay). The greater Metro area contains a bit over a million people. Fist founded in the 13th century, the town quickly became an important port city.

Our arrival was actually in the town of Getxo about 20 km from Bilbao itself. But the port authority runs a shuttle bus service to town (that delivers you underneath the Guggenheim Museum). Added to that there is an efficient metro station within a manageable walk from the terminal.

The town is mainly now known for the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao.

It is one of several museums bearing the Guggenheim name (New York, Venice, Bilbao and soon to be Abu Dhabi) around the world. This like the others is a home for modern and contemporary art. But of most interest is the building itself, which is incredibly funky and has been widely lauded as a piece of contemporary architecture.

Of course, being a Monday, in Spain, all museums are closed. So we took our happy snaps from outside and explored the rest of the town instead.

In prepping for the trip I saw that there was a funicular (Funicular de Artxanda) that ran up the hill (Artxanda) and offered panoramic views over the town. Not being a fan of stairs, the 3 (ish) euro price tag seemed about right to get some good perspective (and photos) without busting a boiler trying to climb the mountain. But the distance, cloudy weather and Karin’s knee combined to keep us on the Gugenheim side of the river instead.

To get to the funicular from town you first have to cross the Zubizuri (white) Bridge (which we did walk past). Opened in 1997, and consists of a curved walkway held up by cables from an overhead arch. While we did get photos, this one from the net showed it best.

Once the exploration proper started, we quickly found ourselves in funky streets full of amazing buildings. We snapped away furiously while zigging and zagging our way through the streets. This led to the inevitable (and what was to become frequent) stop for a sit down, a coffee (or other beverage). Typically the drink was (to be) accompanied with either a pastry or some pincho’s (small tapas style snacks).

The Ribera Market is the largest covered food market in the world (according to Guinness). On the right bank of the Nervión river it has stood there for centuries but the current version was built in 1929.

Some more coffee, more cool buildings, parks, pinchos and add in some bocadillos (Spanish sandwiches) and maybe a cerveza. Possibly the most important thing to raise in all of this is the prices that you pay. We were able to get two coffees (really good coffees), pinchos, sandwiches and pastries for less than the cost of 2 coffees at home (even after the currency conversion).

Oh and Santiago Cathedral was there too.

So after a fair day’s walking we meandered back to the ship for a well earned shower and a sit down.

La Coruna

La Coruña was next, it has a population of 245,000. and is a long time maritime port, the first recorded history can be found in the 2nd century BC when the Romans arrived (originally known as Brigantium). The Roman influence is still obvious today.

The most notable evidence of the Romans is the Torre de Hercules (Tower of Hercules) lighthouse, which is the oldest known Roman lighthouse. Built in the 1st century, it sits on a peninsula about 2.4 km from town (there is a bus, but we took a cab).

La Coruña is often known as the city of crystal, due to its glassed-in facades overlooking the harbour. These date back to the 18th century, when glass panes became ubiquitous due to their use in Spanish galleons. The cruise terminal drops you basically in the middle of town and a quick 5 minute walk drops you at Plaza de María Pita (the main town square). The main square was named after a local heroine (Maria Pita) whose story is seriously cool. To tell it properly I will steal it from wiki and the tourist blurbs so as to do it justice.

On 4 May 1589, the English breached Spanish defences and entered the old city. María Pita was assisting her husband (an army captain) but when he was killed (in a fit of rage) she snatched the spear carrying the banner from an English captain and killed him with it. The guy she killed is claimed to be the brother of (Admiral) Francis Drake. This apparently demoralised the English troops who began to retreat. At this point she appeared on the the wall of the city shouting Quen teña honra, que me siga (“Whoever has honour, follow me!”).

So in the middle of the square that bears her name is a statue of her holding the spear that she used.

If you want to find out more about Maria Pita, there’s a free admission museum explaining her story and her integral part in the downfall of Sir Francis Drake and the English Armada.

The square itself was pretty funky, dominated by the Town Hall on one side, and Iglesia de San Jorge (church) on the other. There was the usual shops, bars and restaurants.

Being a church and full of stained glass, Karin had to go in. As expected, it was full of shiny euro church bling and some pretty cool glass.

Up the hill was a nice garden and (what I can only imagine was) a life sized statue of an old admiral. Some old Roman ruins as you made your way down the hill and at the bottom poking out was the fort.

Iglesia de Santiago is the oldest church in A Coruña. Build in the 12th century in Roman style, later adopted to more Gothic architecture.

Castillo de San Anton is a 16th century fortress located at the waters edge, part of a network of strategically built defensive forts. Nowadays it is an archaeological museum with a huge cistern underneath it. And for about 2 euros each, why wouldn’t you go in.

And of course, inside the fort was the usual weapons, armour and random trinket display.

Some more exploring, cool coastlines, odd statues , interesting architecture and generally a good day was had all around.

Having seen the tower of Hercules we hopped a cab to find the Octopus sculpture and funky looking dome that was supposed to be up the hill.

Begin saga…

What was supposed to be a quick cab ride to an impressive sculpture ended up being a trip to the main railway station (estacion and sculpture etc). Then some google translating on the phones and a cab ride to a very lame sculpture, and another ride down the hill back to the main square.

Having reached the square, it was time for a cold drink and some pinchos. Before hopping back on the boat, a last minute wander about saw Karin particularly interested in a wickerware donkey (with a disturbing level of anatomical correctness).

In addition to the bits that we saw there is a bunch of museums (Contemporary Art, Archaeological, History, Science and Technology, Human body and evolution). The marine aquarium apparently has a rebuilt submarine from Captain Nemo from Jules Verne’s story.

La Caruna is a nice town and I would happily come back.

Vigo

Vigo is a town of a little under 300,000 people. Casco Vello is the historical center (Old Town) area of town and the bit with the most to see. Thankfully it is very close to the port, however, it is built on the side of a hill that the tourist lady said would rival the steepness of San Francisco.

The first thing that struck us was the fairly eclectic range of statues that were floating about the town.

Thankfully, the tourist lady also told Karin that if you walk down 3-4 streets that there was a series of escalators that would save you a lot of effort in climbing the (very steep) hill. The streets, squares and buildings have information signs in Galician, Spanish and even some in English.

On our first pass we missed the escalators and found ourselves walking through the Alameda da Praza de Compostela. Main park in town for those whose Spanish still needs some work.

We zigged and zagged a bit until we found the escalators (they started a few streets up the hill). So up the escalators we went until we could go no further.

From here was a long steep walk to get to the Fortaleza de Santa María do Castro.

A quick google check showed a hilltop park with prehistoric stone ruins and some fortress remains.

Sort of, on the way to the park, you (kinda) pass the Castelo de San Sebastián. This is not for the feint hearted, and we were that on this particular day.

So making our way back down the hill we got into Casco Vello more seriously. Checking out the mix of old and new buildings and the myriad of cafes and restaurants.

We found a street that specialised in just seafood, with a particular emphasis on the local delicacy pulpo (octopus) along with whatever else was fresh on that particular day. It was at this point I realised that I needed to be with my wife or my other sister, both of whom would have enjoyed settling in on this street.

There is even a monument to Jules Verne (a bronze statue of him sitting on the tentacles of a giant squid.

In his book 20,000 Leagues under the Sea, he named a chapter “The Bay of Vigo”.

He came to visit the city sometime after writing the novel, so in his honour and on the centenary of his death (2005), the statue was commissioned and donated.

While we may not have settled in at the seafood shops, we certainly did not go without. The offerings in Vigo were top class and we did find a way to do some serious sampling.

Gijon

Gijon is a lovely little town, that is not usually on the cruise ship list of stops.

And isn’t this obvious. The port itself is rubbish.

You park next to huge piles of coal (just like Brisbane), with nothing scenic for miles.

And when you get out of the port you are left to your own devices (same as Brisbane).

The cruise ship offered two options, a free shuttle to the edge of the port (where there was nothing but a 6km walk to town ahead of you) there was not even a cab or local bus stop on offer. The second option was a USD$20 per person bus ride to a very tiny town.

Having paid the $$$ we hopped the but that dropped us at the local train museum (free) and right next to what is probably a very nice beach (Poniente) when is is not gray, cold and rainy. A short walk and you are at the tourist sign and at an old fortress wall.

Some old building and some interesting attempts at art and sculpture and you find yourself at the local roman ruins and skate park. To say that this place is a bit off is an understatement.

Cimadevilla, the city’s oldest neighborhood, where narrow streets, colorful houses, and old fishermen’s taverns create a cool atmosphere. We chose to climb to the top of Cerro de Santa Catalina for sweeping views over the Bay of Biscay and to see the iconic Elogio del Horizonte sculpture by Eduardo Chillida.

Karin’s search of the blurb suggests that it is meant to amplify the sounds of the ocean. As you wander down the hill you pop out on the Capilla del Santísimo Sacramento. A very nice church overlooking the ocean near the beach of San Lorenzo.

From here we found ourselves near some very odd statues that required some exploration but did not come with an explanation.

Then it was to Plaza Mayor for a coffee and a bite. And we were pretty much done.

A slow amble down the main shopping mall street a quick stop at another church (Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus) which is topped by a 7.5 metre marble statue of Jesus. Of course Karin went in to check out the stained glass.

Across the road from the church was the town library and at about this time, Gijon was touristed out.

So it was back on the bus and back to the coal piles.

Our tour of Northern Spain was good.

We took in four towns that we had never been to, experienced some very cool sights, ate great food and enjoyed amazing coffee. All things considered, well worth the effort.

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Southern United Kingdom

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Well here I am again with my sister Karin instead of Jill. We bailed from the Netherlands and took an early morning direct flight to Southampton in England where we had a few cruises booked. But to avoid stress we came in a couple of days early to poke about. As we would return to Southampton twice more (between sailings) we decided to boycott the town on round one and focus on the surrounding areas instead.

So we jumped off the plane, hired a car (at exorbitant rates) and set off into the countryside. As it turned out, Stonehenge was a mere 50 miles away.

Stonehenge

So obviously our first stop was to see Stonehenge. It was a cold, wet, grey and gloomy day (a typical English), but we did the best with what the weather would allow.

Stonehenge Again

Given that our first foray was so grey and gloomy, on the way back from our monster road trip, we decided to do another drive-by in the hope it might actually be OK. As it turned out, blue(ish) skies and a setting sun make the photos considerably better.

Salisbury

Our next stop was to the town of Salisbury and the incredibly impressive Cathedral. While the Catholic church may have locked us out (in Alkmaar) the Anglican church had their doors open for us. We both clicked away furiously but Karin may have had a particular interest in the stained glass and windows.

Karin tells me that the stained glass here was particularly good for a bunch of reasons that made my eyes roll back into my head. so because other people may have greater interest in such things…the next explanation is courtesy of Karin.

All the windows in Salisbury Cathedral contain extraordinarily detailed stained glass. Over the centuries, the cathedral has contained several different styles of stained glass. The original was Grisaille glass dating from the 13th century, a particular dark grey geometric style of window. There is one remaining Grisaille window in the cathedral that was dug up and reconstructed.

Original Grisaille window from the 13th century.

There are examples of different styles of stained glass over the centuries, including extensive restorations due to deterioration and damage throughout various wars.

Prisoner of Conscience Window – installed in the 1980’s.

The latest installation was in 2024.

In addition to the Church bit, the Cathedral was also home to one of the copies of the Magna Carta. The Magna Carta is a 1215 English charter that guaranteed rights to “free men” and is considered a foundational document for individual liberties and the rule of law. There are only four surviving copies of the 1215 Magna Carta, with two held by the British Library, one at Lincoln Cathedral, and one at Salisbury Cathedral.

Having blitzed the Cathedral we took a recommendation (from my mate Jimmy) to have lunch at the Rose and Crown Hotel. It was apparently once owned by one of his relatives. Either way, it was a lovely little place, right on a stream that served a pretty good lunch for a reasonable price.

After lunch it was up the hill to visit the Old Sarum Castle which is the ruined and deserted site of the earliest settlement of Salisbury. The settlement appears in some of the earliest records in the country. There is evidence that early hunters and, later, farming communities occupied the site and a protective hill fort was constructed around 400 BC. The hillfort is broadly oval shaped, measuring 400 m in length and 360 m in width. 

On a cold, wet and windy day, it is safe to say that we were somewhat exposed high on the hill.

Our last call for the day was to be Stourhead which is a 1,072-hectare (2,650-acre) estate at the source of the River Stour in the southwest of the English county of Wiltshire. We arrived in the late afternoon and quickly found out that this was not something that you could quickly zip around. So we took a few happy snaps on the fringes and decided that time was just to tight to explore fully.

So from here we just headed back to Southampton for a (very dodgy) meal and a sleep before we set off again the next day on what would turn out to be a pretty epic road trip.

The next morning we were up and on the road by 7am. As our day evolved, we ended up totally freaking out the locals at our propensity to drive and see things. The first note that must be made is that in almost every UK town there is no such thing as parking.

This fact meant that at almost no point during our day could we stop, get out of the car and amble about. So we found ourselves in the pattern of getting to a sight, Karin jumping out and madly taking photos while I tried not to get parking, speeding or eco tax fines.

Oxford

This pattern first came to light in Oxford (a bit over 100km north of Southampton) where it became apparent that there was absolutely nowhere to stop. Founded in the 8th century the city sits at the confluence of the rivers Thames and Cherwell rivers. It has a population of a bit over 150,000 and is home to the University of Oxford, the oldest university in the English-speaking world.

The town itself has buildings in every style of English architecture dating back as far as the late Anglo-Saxons.

With nowhere to stop and limited options Karin dived in and out of the car and did the best she could, but there was no chance to take your time and get the best angles of some truly amazing architecture.

As for me I got to see them out of a windscreen while trying not to create too much of a traffic nightmare. Thankfully whist driving around exploring, Karin spotted a tiny little sign advising us that we had driven through a zero emissions zone. Had she missed this (because I certainly did) we would have copped the emissions toll and the various fines associated with it, all billed back to our hire car and we would have come home to massive bills.

But instead, Karin hopped on the website, transferred the 4 pound fee and logged the receipt so that we were covered. We did make it to the Oxford University but you could only enter the courtyard after 2pm on a Sunday and we were there at about 8am.

Karin did manage to get this photo but was almost body checked by a particularly over-zealous security guard who would not let her step (even the 2 foot required) beyond the rope barrier to get a better photo.

The town was fantastic, the day was miserable, and the logistics were almost unmanageable. The key to coming here is to set up in a hotel near town and just walk about everywhere. From our quickfire visit it was clear that you could easily spend a day or two exploring.

From Oxford we may have gone a little silly in heading south and then west for a further 200km to get to Wales.

Cardiff, Wales

Being a rugby boy (way back when) and trying to get my country and territory count up, the idea of being so close to Wales and not popping in seemed silly. So on leaving Oxford we set the GPS to take us to Cardiff Arms Park, the spiritual home of Welsh Rugby.

Our first impression of Wales however was the impressive Servern Bridge (Welsh: Pont Hafren). This was built and opened in 1966 to replace a ferry.

Built at the narrowest part of the river, the span still required a mile long motorway suspension bridge.

From the Severn Bridge, you could see the more modern (and impressive) Prince of Wales Bridge which lay to its left.

While the Severn Bridge was 1 mile long, the Prince of Wales Bridge was built closer to the mouth of the river and was over 5 kilometres long.

Our next impression was at some of the road signage. The Welsh language is a truly unique thing and the concept of pronouncing or comprehending them was too much for us.

Sadly, upon entering Cardiff, the parking situation in Wales was no better than in Oxford, so we continued our quick sniper runs in and out of tourist areas for Karin to get happy snaps. The first of which was Cardiff Arms Park.

On the up side, the further away from England that we drove, the clearer the skies got. And the warmer the weather got too.

The most prominent thing that you come across is the Cardiff Castle. Believed to have originally been built by the Romans n about 50AD it sits in the centre of town. We managed to lap it about 4 times while hunting for a car park but unfortunately never made it inside. Karin got some great wall photos.

But the insides remained foreign to us. The tourist blurb provides a raft of information about the castle and its various iterations over the centuries, but sadly the battlements will remain un-walked by me.

We did however get to find a place to park and poke about in the area that contained the law courts, the town hall and the National Museum.

All very impressive buildings, set in a beautiful parkland type environment. Having had the chance to stop and do some googling of what was good to see the next stop became pretty obvious, however driving to it and parking there was not as simple as it may have seemed.

Llandaff Cathedral it was…officially the Cathedral Church of Saints Peter & Paul. It stands on one of the oldest Christian sites in Britain amid the ancient “City of Llandaff”. Despite being surrounded on all sides by modern Cardiff, the Llandaff conservation area remains comparatively unspoilt and surprisingly tranquil.

The present cathedral dates from 1107, the arch behind the High Altar was built at that time. The Cathedral was extended and widened and a new West front built about 1220. This West front is judged by many to be one of the two or three most notable medieval works of art in Wales. Because Karin went inside, there are lots of photos of stained glass windows.

From here we were off again with an almost 100km drive to the town of Bath.

Bath

Bath was a dashing visit, primarily to Bath Abbey. We had hoped to get out and wander about…but you guessed it…nowhere to park within cooee of the place. So we lapped the town, hunting high ground to get a nice overview (high) shot of the place. But sadly trees and houses kept getting in the way.

Unsurprisingly, the town of Bath is full of Roman era baths. Being short on both daylight and time, we skipped the Roman baths (however did drive past the remnants of some, as well as some aqueducts.

And on the way Karin did get to dive out and have a quick look at the very funky looking St Mary’s Church.

Bath is a bit like Oxford, you would need to set up at a hotel near the centre and just wander about for a day or two. So on our way out we headed to our next port of call Glastonbury. A relatively short 45km hop down the road.

Glastonbury

Our first view coming into town was that of the Glastonbury Tor. It is a hill that is topped by the roofless tower of St Michael’s Church.

From here it was into town where we found a car park and could actually go exploring.

To be fair, my only knowledge of Glastonbury was the music festival. It began in 1970 and it the equivalent of Nimbin in Australia. Hippies and weed abound in the town at all times but the crowd swells to 200,000 during the festival. Beyond the music, the festival offers a wide range of performing arts, including comedy, theatre, and circus. As does the town in general.

The town is cool in a hippy, dropout kinda way. Not really a place I would like to set up camp, but I have a feeling that Karin could find herself right at home amongst the arty types.

The main event for us was the Glastonbury Abbey. We arrived late in the day, but still with enough time for Karin to run in and do the tourist thing. I chose to save the entrance fee and steal her photos for the blog.

The abbey was founded in the 8th century and enlarged in the 10th. It was destroyed by a major fire in 1184, but rebuilt and by the 14th century was one of the richest and most powerful monasteries in England.

From (at least) the 12th century, the Glastonbury area has been associated with the legend of King Arthur, a connection promoted by medieval monks who asserted that Glastonbury was Avalon. Christian legends have claimed that the abbey was founded by Joseph of Arimathea in the 1st century.

While Karin was inside, I peered over the fence, drinking coffee and having an odd conversation with the curator of the place. In general chit chat he asked where we were from etc. When he found out we were staying in Southampton he seemed shocked that we would do the 80 mile trip to come to Glastonbury and have to return again.

At this point the conversation started in earnest. I proceeded to tell him that we had left at about 7am that morning, travelled to Oxford (66 miles), then to Cardiff (116 miles), on to Bath (55 miles), before driving the 25 miles to even get to Glastonbury.

Then I let him know that because we had time and would drive the 51 miles back to Stonehenge, and head to Salisbury (10mi) before heading back to our accommodation in Southampton (25mi).

When our hire car return receipt came I had driven 864 miles (just under 1400 kilometres in the 2 days.

Southampton

While we had stayed in Southampton for our first two days, we actually saw very little of it as we were visiting the broader region. But we were on 3 cruises that all ported there, so we had a day each time to explore the more local aspects.

In doing the googling on what is good to see in Southampton, two of the top 3 things to do is to leave (to go to Salisbury or Stonehenge). So we hopped off the boat between our first 2 cruises and hit the high street (after being sent the long way around by the dude on the dock).

Our first sight was the Bar Gate, a medieval gatehouse about half way up high street. Our biggest challenge here was to get a photo without the junk food vans and tents selling kebabs, pasties and the like.

But once we found our way, the Roman walls and ruins, interesting sights came at us pretty thick and fast. Sadly our day had 37 knot winds, and was grey and overcast. Somehow, the wind managed to be blowing into our faces no matter what direction we turned.

Pheasants

This needs to be talked about. The Common pheasant is bred to be hunted and are shot in great numbers in Europe, especially the UK. In our opinion, pheasants must be the stupidest birds on the planet. We have both driven a lot, in Australia, and the likelihood of seeing a dead bird as roadkill is extremely low. In the UK (in the south at least), you cannot drive a kilometre without seeing one as road kill or at least the remnants on one.

This sparked a conversation in the car which ended with SIRI chiming in, through the navigation system, advising us that in fact ‘Pheasants are not the stupidest birds on the planet’.

Beware, your phone is paying attention.

Netherlands

Amsterdam and Aalkmaar

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Well I am off travelling again, but this time I have left my wife at home working and have brought along my sister Karin. Don’t get me wrong, Jill is still joining me in a few weeks for our upcoming cruise around Africa (no way she was missing out on that) but the first 5 weeks or so was just too much of a stretch to ask from a new job.

So the first few legs are cruise ships out of the UK. The logistics (and cost) of transport in and around the UK were brutal. So we decided to fly from Australia (via Qatar) to Amsterdam (one of the few places with direct flights to Southampton). This also meant that Karin could see some more of Europe other than just the cruise ship ports.

Amsterdam accommodation is prohibitively expensive, and for those that have been following along, Jill and I have made great friends (Michel and Sonja) in the town of Alkmaar (a short 40 minute train ride from central Amsterdam). So we booked into Alkmaar (saving us a ton of money) and could do a quick train ride to check out the touristy things in town. And for all the rest of the time we could just have fun in the awesome town of Alkmaar.

Alkmaar

I really do not know what to say about this town, it is truly amazing. EVERY single time that I come here there is some major event on. Either I am the luckiest person on the planet or this town just has a whole lot going on ALL THE TIME.

Our first foray saw us hitting the town during the ‘once a year’ Kaeskoppenstad. A celebration a 1500’s resistance to Spanish occupiers that involved the whole town dressing up like the 1500’s and show what life was like 450 years ago.

The second foray and we hit Friday cheese market in the Waagplein (main square) where (you guessed it) everyone gets dressed up and re-enacts the early cheese trader routine (dating back to 1365).

This thing takes place each Friday from March to September and during peak season, on Tuesdays too.

And this time we arrived to find ourselves exhausted after the Monster transit only to be told that the next day would be the ‘once a year’ Lappendag (Rag Day). What this meant was that every trader in town (and many from around) basically had a stocktake sale on the streets. This turned the whole town centre into a ‘once a year’ outdoor market. It started with the clothing and quickly evolved into just about everything, most notably food.

This made for some interesting sights early on as the streets turned into dressing rooms and women were stripping down to try on various items of clothing. Thankfully Karin found herself in the market for a jacket, which did not involve such an intimate public display.

Somehow in all of this madness, the Lappendag found a way to evolve to include a livestock display of cows, horses and goats. We were out and about early so the crowds weren’t too silly. Although I did have to brave the peak crowd a bit later on so that Karin could bathe (context to follow).

The star of the show for us turned out to be a blue eyed horse. This was something that neither of us had seen before.

Oh the poffertjes weren’t bad either.

Day one was ambling about and day two was the Lappendag, given our limited time available on day three we hopped the train to Amsterdam for an exploration there.

Amsterdam

After a 10 euro (each way pp) train ride we were in Amsterdam central, ready to explore.

Our arrival time coincided almost perfectly with the departure time for the HOHO canal boat ride, which launched from directly outside of the railway station. So we sat on the boat (it was a cold and less than ideal day) in the relative warmth and did the 2 hour circuit of Amsterdam taking in a lot of the sights.

When our canal boat took us back to the start point we did the 12 minute walk down to where the HOHO bus departed and hopped on that to do the one hour loop of that. Well sort of. We actually hopped off the bus in the museum district and Karin went into the Rijksmuseum (after a pretty special lunch in a nearby café).

Not really being into the artworks I milled about outside while she did her Rembrandt (and others) thing. From here we were back on the HOHO bus, back on the train and back to Alkmaar. While it wasn’t a crazy amount of walking, it had still managed to be a long and tiring day.

The next day we just milled about and took in the sights of Alkmaar. Karin found an immediate and ongoing affinity towards the tiny cars that seemed to abound. Many were small but we learned that the smallest of them were designed for the disabled. They were perfect for the tiny streets and alleys but were not allowed on the main roads or highways.

Karin and I, in an attempt to redeem our heathen souls, attempted to visit the local catholic church (OK maybe Karin wanted to check out the stained glass).

We went virtually every day, but on hearing that the Pieper children were in town the catholic church went into full lockdown and refused to open their doors. This remained the case for the entire week. So we took that as a sign and walked away.

As pretty and welcoming as Alkmaar is during the day, the night time brings the place to life in a whole new way. Narrow streets combine with decorative lighting and then you get to factor in the reflections off the water in the canals. I really do love this place.

The only real detraction from our time in Alkmaar was our somewhat strange hotel room. The hotel was lovely and the room was nice but it had no door on either the toilet or the bathroom. It was a wide opening with an alcove on each side for both the toilet and shower. This is OK for partners, but for just travel companions made thigs a little awkward. We ended up taking it in turns to disappear so that each other could have a shower in peace.

As for going to the toilet, well we just had to make do as best we could.

As it happens our last day in Alkmaar (luckily) coincided with the last cheese market display for the season. I had told Karin how much fun it was, but our original timings meant that we were going to miss it. But thankfully Michel offered to drive us to the airport, taking away all of the transit palaver and giving us enough time to catch the last Friday cheese market.

And that was it, our time in Alkmaar was over and we were staying at an airport hotel ready to transit on to the UK.

Michel and Sonja were (once again) amazing hosts and so generous with their time and hospitality.

Uncategorized

Catch up and Monster Transits

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Well I am off again. I had been in Australia for almost 5 months and that is about all that could be reasonably expected from me given the recent frame of mind. During that five months Jill and I bounced around furiously catching up with family and friends, hunting for jobs, and raiding our container full of stuff.

Jill had found a gig that saw us setting up camp in a charming little coastal town called Bargara (on the water near Bundaberg). We rented a house, set ourselves up and got down to living life back in Australia and giving up our nomad ways. In reality, we already had this section planned but had to do something with ourselves in the meantime.

I will write more about Bargara later on because it really is worth the write-up and some of the pictures are just stunning. But anyway, back to the reason for writing. Jill and I found an amazing cruise that was to leave Spain and relocate to Australia. Given the war in Gaza and the relatively unsafe passage through the Suez Canal the company decided not to risk it and instead to travel around Africa (something that almost never happens).

As we have cruised Trans-Atlantic and Trans-Pacific as well as around South America and into the Antarctic, the opportunity was too good to pass up. Added to this was the multi-day stops in South Africa, which gave us enough time to get on a Safari and tick some pretty big bucket list items.

Oh and the most important thing…It would get me to (and a bit over) my goal of reaching 100 countries.

Needless to say that the 12 week jaunt didn’t work that well for poor Jill who had just started a new job. She did mention it at interview and was selected anyway. But at the interview it was a flippant ‘oh I’m sure we can work around that’ however after her feet hitting the ground, the reality of 12 weeks without her started to land. So she decided 12 weeks were not an option and for the first few legs I was to go alone and she would join me for the main event (around Africa).

We stayed in this position for a while before Jill came up with the idea…hey, we are paying for two people, it seems like a waste… Why don’t you find a friend and not waste the extra berth in the cabin. So after a bit of chat my sister Karin decided that she would join me to see the first 4-5 weeks worth. So the planning began, and Karin even did the 4 hr drive up to Bargara for a few days to work through the logistics.

To be fair we did do the tourist thing too, wandering the beaches and even did a whale watching adventure on the Lady Musgrave experience.

Planning done, we were off. A Saturday afternoon flight (packed) from Brisbane for about 17 hrs to Doha. At this point we had a 9 hr layover (without lounge access). Our seat allocation for the next leg was crappy, but we were assured in Brisbane that it was only us in that row, so we didn’t complain.

After our 9 hrs of milling about the airport, we hopped another flight (for 6 hrs) to Amsterdam. Our wander down the hall went fine until we got to our row to find that 2 of the 4 seats that were to be ours were already occupied. Oh well…another packed flight. When the next 6 hrs were over we were exiting Schiphol Airport.

At this point we were picked up by close friend (Michel) for the 45 minute drive to Alkmaar. Alkmaar has featured on here a few times now, mainly thanks to Michel and Sonja who introduced us to it. For us it was about a third of the accommodation cost of being in Amsterdam and was only a 40 minute train ride into town. This meant that we could live cheaply and just ride in to town to see the sights each day without destroying the budget.

And beyond that, it is a lovely little town.

Mexico

Mexican ports

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As we were in and out of Mexico so many times, and into many of the ports numerous times I decided to do a combined post rather than do a bunch of individual posts. We went to places like Cozumel and Costa Maya almost 10 times each, so as you can imagine it would have been quite repetitive had we done it any other way. What we did do was to try and see different things each time to make the post a little more complete than a simple pop in.

Many cruise lines have Mexico as a major destination. Our preferred line (RC) makes numerous stops in Mexico (on both the Pacific coast and on the Gulf of Mexico side). The Pacific coast side we have not yet visited but by name only, they are the ports that the old TV show ‘The Love Boat‘ used to visit and they include: Mazatlán, Puerto Vallarta, Ensenada and Cabo San Lucas. The TV show also used to go to Acapulco, but drug wars has made Acapulco one of the most dangerous cities in Mexico and is therefore no longer on the list of cruise destinations.

For those who watched the show, the ‘star’ of the show (the ship) remained in operation until it was eventually scrapped in 2013.

So while we have not (yet) visited any of the Pacific Ports (we do plan to) we have given a fair old hit to the ones within the Gulf of Mexico and on the Yucatan peninsula.

The first thing that must be mentioned is that the Gulf of Mexico side is prone to large seas and often high winds. This greatly affects the water quality, water safety and sometimes even the ability for the ship to even land you at the intended port. Several times, ports had been cancelled due to rough seas or high winds.

The Yucatán Peninsula is dotted with numerous relics of the Mayan civilisation that continue to amaze people even centuries after the Mayan demise. Our first foray into this part of the world saw us boycotting the beaches and making a beeline to Chichen Itza. One of the 7 wonders of the world why would you not. So Chichen Itza (or chicken kisser as we have been referring to it) is a former Mayan city dating back to as early as 250AD. At its peak around 35,000 people would have called it home. It was one of the most important Mayan cities in Latin America. 

Chi means “mouths” and chen means “wells” and Itzá is the name of the Maya tribe that settled there. Chichen Itza means “At the mouth of the well of the Itza.”

Possibly the most notable thing about the city is the ancient temple Pyramid of El Castillo (Kukulcan Temple). It is the most famous and recognisable of Mexico’s monuments but it was not built by the Mayans but rather in the 10th century by foreign invaders.

The Pyramid of El Castillo rises 24 metres above the Main Plaza area. Each of its four sides has 91 stairs that face north, east, south, and west. Including the step on the top platform, there is a total of 365 steps. This is the same number of days in the solar year.

Beyond the pyramid at the centre, the site contains the remains of the entire city. The site of Chichen Itza occupies an area of around 10 sq/km. And everywhere you go there is more to see. Carved walls pyramids, buildings, sports courts, virtually everything you would expect to find in a major (ancient) city.

The earliest structures built include the Akabtzib (“House of the Dark Writing”), the Chichanchob (“Red House”), the Iglesia (“Church”), the Casa de las Monjas (“Nunnery”), and the observatory El Caracol (“The Snail”).

On the site are caves and sinkholes in limestone formations, known as cenotes. These are natural wells that form when limestone surfaces collapse and expose water underneath.

Tlachtli was a Mayan game that involved keeping a grapefruit-sized rubber ball in the air with the use of thighs, hips, and chest.

It was known by various other names including pok-a-tok, pitz, tlacho, and ulama. In some variations, the goal became knocking the ball through hoop-like stone rings.

And the losers were often sacrificed to the gods.

The most revered beast in the Mayan world was the jaguar.

It was thought that at night the sun slipped into the underworld and would transform into a jaguar.

The animal was linked with warriors and hunters, and became a symbol of the might and authority of the rulers.

The kings and rulers desired the power and spirit of the jaguar.

During the spring and autumn equinoxes (around March 20/21 and September 20/21), the light hits the earth on the equator. When this happens, the shadows cast by the setting sun give the appearance of Quetzalcóatl (a feathered serpent) slithering down the steps.

The Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) is a Mayan Tradition going back to 1800BC that celebrates life with food, dances, and skull masks.

It is believed that the souls of the spirit realm can visit the land of the living, not to haunt people, but to lovingly reconnect with their family and friends.

Chichen Itza was good and we were both glad that we made it here. But it was impossible not to compare this experience with other major places that we have seen around the world, most notably Siem Reap in the Khmer Empire. The two experiences were remarkably similar but the concept of comparison sits poorly with me.

Having looked around the site we had some time to look at some of the trinkets that were available for purchase. I must admit that I actually enjoyed them and would have liked to have gotten some. There was an amazing carved Mayan Calendar that I loved but the weight and bulk just did not lend itself to ongoing travel.

Cozumel

More accurately, Isla Cozumel is Mexico’s 3rd largest island and has countless activities on offer, both below and above the waves. The island is about 30 miles long and 9 miles wide. The name in Mayan translates to “Island of the Swallows” due to the birdlife. The place has been a long-time dive Mecca and has white sand beaches, coral reefs, modern amenities and lots of wild areas.

Over this period of intensive cruising, we came to Cozumel no less than a dozen different times. We tried to do different things each time we came but, by the end, were not even bothering to get off the ship, choosing rather to laze by the pool for the day.

Our first thing to do when entering Cozumel was to check how many other ships were there on that particular day. This was important as there could be up to 7 other ships, spewing between 1500-6000 people each. If the numbers were too big, we tended to boycott.

The good thing is that almost half of the island is ringed by a designated Marine Park. This means that there is always somewhere that you can escape to if you need to.

On a calm day, you come into a beautiful island with crystal-clear blue waters dotted with the odd hotel and numerous tourist shops and centres. The colour of the water certainly is inviting and regular daytime temps typically sit in the high 20’s.

The island is one of the top 5 dive destinations in the world thanks to the coral reefs just off the southwestern coast. Add in unusually clear water–with visibility often as great as 200 ft. The diving is fabulous with over 100 dive operators offering far more service than most top dive destinations. The west side of the island (facing the Yucatan Channel and the Mexican mainland) is where everyone lives and stays when they come to visit. This is because the west side is largely sheltered from the strong winds and battering surf and more importantly it has electricity.

If you are not a diver, on the sandy sections they offer the sea trek. This allows you just to walk along the sandy bottom and get close to (but not interact with) the coral reef.

For the non-swimmer (and non-claustrophobic) there is a submarine that will take you about 30m down and along the reefs.

Right in the centre of the developed West coast, you find the city of San Miguel, population 90,000. This relatively safe, extraordinarily friendly Mayan/Mexican community has somehow managed to retain its own customs and cultural identity despite the influx of tourists.

And by influx, I really do mean influx. On a quiet day, we were one of two ships in port; on a busy day, there were up to 7 other ships on the smallish island (these were the days that we hid by the pool).

San Miguel is a nice little town. It has a well-developed, but not too aggressive, tourist esplanade and a few blocks of tourist friendly but not feral attractions, shops and restaurants.

In town you will find the Museo de Cozumel, a combination of natural history and the expected Mayan stuff.

The town square is known as Benito Juarez Park, with the municipal hall and all associated statues etc. And of course the outdoor vendor market.

Iglesia San Miguel Arcangel (St. Michael the Archangel) is the main church in town. It is pretty modest but has some stained glass and the usual church bling.

The other main church is the Cathedral of Corpus Christi.

The waterfront (Malecon) near town and almost all along the seaside is packed with statues and monuments. The Monumento Al Mestizaje celebrates Mexico’s mix of Indigenous and Spanish peoples and cultures. 

The level of popularity of Cozumel has meant that there are three separate landing points for the huge number of cruise ships that arrive each day. Punta Langosta is the first one and sits in the heart of the tourist strip, just south of downtown and within walking distance of the main square. The International Cruise Terminal (servicing cruise lines like Celebrity Cruises, Disney Cruise Line, MSC Cruises, and Royal Caribbean) is about three miles south of downtown and Puerta Maya is about five miles further south of downtown.

Getting off the ship at either of the two southern ports is obscene. You exit directly into a fully manufactured tourist area (sadly 70% + of people will never see beyond this point) complete with chain stores and bars, over-the-top pricing, duty-free shops, restaurants, and recreational areas for passengers (pools and swim-up bars etc).

But ignoring the entirely plastic version of the place, it is highly efficient (if over priced). You exit the docks into a plethora of tourist shops offering the obligatory tequila, cigars and t-shirts along with some high-end offerings to further fleece the tourists. You pass through the bars and restaurants and come into the day-club (pools and deck chairs etc) and for those still keen (very few make it this far) you pop out at an efficient transportation hub with tours, busses and taxi’s ready to take you where you want.

For the very few that make it out of the greater port area, there are some really lovely beach resorts (paid) available where (for not too crazy a price) you can kick back by some pretty spectacular beaches and get fed some really tasty local delicacies.

In addition to the beach resorts there are the usual things on offer for those that do make it out of the ports. There are more tourist shops, bars and restaurants (all considerably cheaper when you get out). The restaurants are fun and they really know and cater to their market. Many of the ship’s crew come from Asian countries, so it is common (but still odd to see) Filipino or Indonesian restaurants within a very short walk of the port.

Almost without exception, in Mexico, one of the first signs that you will see is the one saying Farmacia.

Thousands of Americans and Canadians cross the US-Mexico border for cheap prescription meds. For the most part, you can purchase prescription medications in Mexico without a prescription. You can also bring those meds back to the US. Sometimes, the savings are up to 80% on certain meds from Mexico.

Despite the boom in tourist and residential development over the last several years, Cozumel continues to have vast expanses of untouched jungle and shoreline. The large central portion of the island is mostly undeveloped jungle, brimming with wildlife.

Even near the two southern port stops, the tourist infrastructure only goes back a block or two, behind that are heavily wooded jungles and minimal other development.

On one of our trips to Cozumel we were gearing up for a quiet time when the concierge (cos we are important), who was Mexican, was telling us about the extra bits that the tourists don’t get near. His suggestions were a bit more off the (tourist) beaten path but were true local hangouts. Not being afraid of some colour in our days, we got some details and on our next 3 (not 7) ship days we followed his advice and were glad that we did.

So it was off the ship and a $10USD cab ride to town, the obligatory photos of the downtown area, statues and artworks and then off on the real adventure. The goal was the Mercado Municipal. The authentic wet markets are specific to the locals. There was the odd tourist there, and you could get some low-level trinkets, but for the most part, it was not aimed at us.

The reason for the trip was food. After glowing reviews of the price, taste and authenticity of the food here, how could we not make the effort.

And the main game was some soft pork tacos (fat and skin on) with some onion and lime juice served with some habanero chili sauce (green or red) that were truly spicy. Two tacos each and a drink each set us back about $10USD for both of us.

They were magnificent (but possibly heart attack inducing if you had them too often).

A few more blocks on from the central markets and you find yourself at San Gervasio an area that holds the ruins of the goddess Ix Chel, a deity of childbirth, fertility, medicine, and weaving.

El Cedral is a small town (not too far away) that is one of the oldest on the island with its architecture and traces of paintings on walls dating from 800 BC.

On one of our forays to Cozumel, Jill booked us into a snorkelling adventure which was quite nice but hugely overpriced, given that we never left sight of the ship. We quite literally hopped on a boat, circled our ship, went down the beach a couple of hundred meters and jumped in the crystal clear waters. On the upside, we snorkelled in a water depth that (largely) protected the coral from the clumsy tourists.

The Mexican government announced an increase in the tourist tax from $11USD per person up to $42USD regardless of whether the passenger gets off the ship. This has caused a major rethink in how cruise ships will operate in the region in future.

Royal Caribbean was the first to counter this by buying the rights to the Puerta Maya port and the surrounding area with the intent of developing perfect Day Mexico (expected by 2027).

This has already been done in the Bahamas with the company buying one of the Berry Islands and developing Perfect Day at Coco Cay and also buying the stretch of land opposite Nassau with the intent of developing a private beach club (expected December 2025).

They also purchased a private island off Haiti and developed Labadee. This move bypasses corrupt or greedy governments and ensures that all profits go into the corporate pocket. Sadly this means that there is less going to the communities that need the funds.

This seems to be a common theme among cruise ports globally (recently the port of Venice introduced a 10 euro ‘day trip fee’ for cruise ship passengers). Governments see a ready income source and keep upping prices and taxes until the cruise companies have enough and find alternatives. This is OK if the money is redirected into the tourism industry, protecting the area or supporting the attractions but Mexico’s decision was to fund the military.

Costa Maya

This was our second most visited port in Mexico, having been 6-8 times. Our first impression was not a good one. It was identical to the (southern) port area of Cozumel , in that it was a wholly manufactured area with the sole intent of milking money from the tourists. Shops, restaurants, bars, beach clubs and nothing much else.

Much like Cozumel, most people never get beyond the confines of the port area. But in reality it has been specifically designed to handle 3 big cruise ships at the same time. There is a large shopping mall, 3 salt-water swimming pools, multiple restaurants and bars and more trinket shops than you could need. If you just want to kick back, then it is fine.

Our first trip was to a private tour to a paid beach break. It was a pick-up transit and kick back at a private resort (after having fought through the mess of the port). It was perfectly reasonable (if a little expensive) but the weather made the seas a bit rough so it was too rough to swim or snorkel.

After our first visit we were about to fall into the boycott zone where we just stay on the ship to avoid the mess of touts. But in a chat we learnt of the main town of Mahahual beach. The town itself is only two streets that go parallel to the beach and can be reached by a $4 pp cab ride each way. One street is full of local souvenir shops, restaurants, hotels and guesthouses. The beach is just a few meters away. While there is not a lot to do, with such crystal clear waters…who cares.

We quickly found our preferred place (The Crazy Lobster), a restaurant and beach club that does not charge for the facilities, just what you consume. And it is very reasonably priced. The first foray saw us getting the $10 buckets of beer (for 5 bottles) and offsetting the booze with some fresh chips, salsa and guacamole.

The beer stayed standard throughout our many visits, but the food options zipped in and out across the varying options until Jill finally bit the bullet and had the mixed ceviche. It always looked good, but the portion size was just too challenging.

By the third trip we were locked into Mahahual beach and the Crazy Lobster. The more we learned, the more (or less) we did. Massages on the sand were $20 for an hour, and the touts were not pushy.

The longer my hair got, the more unmanageable it became. So one day we decided that plaiting it was the obvious answer. So for $5 a plait I had 3 plaits and shaved sides.

This lasted a while until I got Jill to pull it out. It may emerge again yet.

As plastic and fake as Costa Maya is, we found a way to amuse ourselves and it is now one of our more favoured ports.

Playa del Carmen is the closest mainland town to Cozumel and is the launching point for those seeking to head inland to visit the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza (a 2 hr bus ride away).

The town itself is primarily a coastal resort town, along the Yucatán Peninsula known for its palm-lined beaches and coral reefs. The Quinta Avenida (pedestrian thoroughfare) runs parallel to the beach, with shops, restaurants and nightspots ranging from bars to dance clubs. 

The beaches are nice and white, sandy and well-developed (without being stupid). The place is safer than most ports and would be a great place to come and stay for a while, rather than the usual fly through.

Yucatan – Progreso

Yucatan has a rich Mayan heritage and the main landing point is a coastal town by the name of Progreso. The city is a gateway to the inland Mayan archaeological sites of Chichén Itzá, Uxmal and Dzibilchaltún.

The first thing that strikes you about the place is just how far out you are. The pier in Progreso was 6.5 kilometres (4 miles) long (one of the longest in the world) but was extended a further 1.5 kilometres to take the Guinness World Record and was presented with its certificate in July 2024.

What this means is that a lengthy bus ride to the centre of town awaits you. This also means that there is no escaping the tourist traps as you are quite literally dropped off into the heart of the CBD and are surrounded by tours and trinkets.

As crazy as it is, it is not that bad. It is certainly an assault on your senses but (for the most part) things are reasonably priced and the touts are calm and respectful.

A city tour bus is on offer for $10USD a head. On one of our forays to Progresso, we hopped the bus and did the 45-minute tour around the broader town. This took you a little further than you would have ever walked to (especially in the heat) and gave you a nice overview of the place, without raping and pillaging on the prices.

An oceanfront promenade, the Malecón, is lined with beaches and thatch-roofed bars and restaurants. And they are reasonably priced. Unlike many of the Mexican ports, Progresso is one of the more reasonably priced ones. Don’t get me wrong, they get their fair profit from the tourists, but it doesn’t feel extortionate or unreasonable like some of the other ports.

On our very first entry we caught the bus to town and just wandered the town centre, finding our way down to the Malecón. Now even in mid-winter Progresso will be 28 degrees and will go to the high 30’s and maybe even hit 40 in summer. Having walked a bit in the winter sun, we found ourselves looking for some respite and maybe even some refreshments.

Our meal and drinks were cheap, the guy at the shop next door saw a potential target and introduced himself to us and asked us to come and look at his shop. So after a couple, I obliged looking to help the local community. I found some traditional Mexican cotton shirts for sale and was willing to part with some cash to make everyone feel good about their day. When I asked the price he responded with $160USD, for a shitty cotton shirt.

I laughed, he looked offended, he espoused the virtues of his shirt, I highlighted that I would never pay that amount ($250+ Aussie) for a shirt, let alone a cheesecloth-looking thing. He wanted to start a negotiation coming down to $150USD. I again laughed and suggested that maybe we were wasting each other’s time.

He asked me what I thought was reasonable and my answer was that I would never pay more than $20USD for a cotton shirt, quickly ending our interaction. I went back to the cantina out front figuring that if he really wanted the sale he would come and grab me before we left. But he was never to be seen again.

The Faro de Puerto Progreso, built in 1893, is an active lighthouse with a range of 33 nautical miles, which equates to 62 kilometres on land.

Sendero Jurásico is the local version of piss weak world. It is a bunch of dinosaur statues (some animatronic) a bit out of town (10 mins). The tourist accounts suggest it is overpriced for what it is and that you are best to go in the evening to avoid the heat and get the lit-up night time view. We went past in (but not in) on our ($10) bus trip.

Uxmal is an ancient Mayan city (about 120 km away) that is believed to have had 25,000 people in the city (between 300 and 1200 CE).

Dzibilchaltún is a small site (about 40 km) south of the town. If you visit during the equinox you can see the sun rise right through the doorway to the temple. A testament to the astrological prowess of the Maya.

The most well-known structure at Dzibilchaltún is the Temple of the Seven Dolls, so named due to the number of small figurines discovered there. The dolls, which represent different physical deformities, are housed in the onsite museum.

Cancun

Well I nearly didn’t do this post because I couldn’t work out what to say about Cancun. Almost everything I say will be wrong…but at the same time be 100% accurate.

It is safe to say that Cancun has absolutely everything and that it offers nothing. It is Las Vegas by the ocean. Everything is overpriced. There is nothing here that is authentic but there are some very real experiences to be had here. Our exposure to Cancun is by no means representative but in hindsight I am not sure if anybody’s experience would be… it is ultimately whatever you want it to be.

It starts at the airport…from the Margarita Bar as you walk out to the $70US cab fare into town…you will be stung.

I think that it is fairly safe to say that every single 5 star resort conglomerate on the planet is represented here in Cancun at least once, with many having multiple offerings. For the most part they are incredibly flash, opulent and lavish…and the sit side by side in a 17 mile stretch of beach between the Nichupte Lagoon and the Caribbean Sea. They offer all inclusive resort deals at a premium price. A haven where your every need is catered to and there is no need to ever leave your private enclave.

Across the road from the hotels is the shops…of course…and every brand name is represented. If you can afford it, it will be available for purchase. Interspersed with the usual suspects of elite fashion and consumerism are local artisanal offerings at hugely inflated prices. These are held within large market type areas where the tourists can haggle to get their local souvenirs.

The most persistent and shrewd of hagglers may be able to get away with paying 250% over what the item is actually worth. These guys are professional sellers…and they are good at it. Enter the oblivious tourist with a wallet full of cash and an “I’m on holiday” mindset and the prices skyrocket.

The drinks are overpriced and often watered down and the food is typically exorbitantly priced. But the beaches are stunning, the service is first rate and the water is crystal blue, warm and inviting. And attached to overpriced tours are some incredibly good options of things to do in the nearby vicinity.

Of particular note are the ancient Mayan ruins (including Chichen Itsa), numerous sinkholes or nearby islands. But we were only here for around 24 hours and none of this was done by us, and certainly the 5 star world was avoided.

Instead we stayed true to form and crashed at the local backpackers in search of something that resembled the real Cancun. In this we were wrong, and we (for the most part) failed. But this more reflected our ignorance of the many versions of Cancun operating simultaneously, in parallel, and almost entirely mutually exclusively.

So what did we do…not very much. We wandered the backstreets, shopped in dodgy markets for overpriced trinkets and tried to find traditional, local places to eat. What we ended up with was a fantastic, authentic Mexican meal, from a dodgy restaurant that aimed to attract the tourists. It was cheap, tacky and brilliant.

We got incredible food, the best service we have ever received, 2 for 1 drinks, huge grins, lots of banter and a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon…and all for an reasonable price tag. And of course the meal was washed down by some of the finest Mexican coffee (tequila). And if this is the real Cancun then we dipped our toes into the water, if it isn’t then we were miles away.

Our philosophy of travel has been to get as close to what is authentic as is possible. This mostly means living meagerly and eating from street food stores or dodgy street-side restaurants. And this is what we sought and found here in Cancun, but I am not entirely sure that this was what passes as an authentic experience. Some places (like the Gold Coast in Australia) have evolved to be true tourist towns and that the tourism in its various forms is what is actually authentic. Perhaps this is the case in Cancun.

Long story short, we had a nice time and I would happily return.

Haiti

Haiti

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Before we get into Haiti, many followers would have noticed a distinct lack of posting lately. This is because we had to cut our travels short and return home. So we are currently back in Australia, Jill has found work and we have set up in in the seaside town of Bargara (just east of Bundaberg).

Those closest to us or those that we have seen know the reason but for those that have not spoken to…we ran into some ESTA (visa) issues in the USA.

While doing our bounce around Mexico, the States and south and central American nations we received some messages on email, from the US Immigration, with a link showing the requirement for us to leave the country. As we received these emails while sitting in various towns and cities in Mexico, Jamaica (or in this case) even Haiti, we were somewhat perplexed.

Our forays throughout the region saw us arriving to the USA and hanging for between 1-4 days before we left again on a cruise ship to visit the broader region. Given that we were leaving the USA every week, we believed that we were fully compliant with the ESTA conditions.

Alas, this all came to a head when we got off a cruise ship in Fort Lauderdale and were directed into a side room, rather than the usual face recognition border checkpoint. At this point we were advised that we had overstayed our ESTA by 43 days (based on the day that we first entered the USA back in November). They advised us that a condition of the ESTA was that we needed to leave the country.

At this point I mentioned that we were in Haiti yesterday, and Jamaica the day before, and that neither of those were in the USA and therefore we had left their country. This is when we were told that because a cruise ship starts and ends at the same port, it is classified as a closed loop, no matter where else it goes to, and does not count as leaving the country.

This at least made the random emails make sense. After some back and forth it was clear that there was no malice or intention to overstay on our behalf. But the reality was that we had, and they then gave us the news that we would need to leave the country.

We had another cruise or two booked (which we had to miss – and lose the money for) but we were allowed to leave of our own accord and were not dragged off to any form of ICE detention centre. So from the cruise terminal we were due to catch a train for the next cruise but instead opted to head to the airport and depart.

A few monster transits and we had gone from Fort Lauderdale to Toronto to Vancouver to Singapore. We then stopped for a breath and made a plan. THe plan involved going to visit Brad and Nora in the Philippines before popping over to Phnom Penh for a week. Then heading to Sydney to visit Jimmy and Claudia (with a visit from Mike and Patricia) , before heading to Brisbane to see the family and another breath.

Anyway, drama over, lets talk about Haiti.

Country #95 Country & Territory # 132

Haiti, is a country of around 11 million, in the Caribbean taking up about a third of the island of Hispaniola (with Dominican Republic taking up the other side) and some smaller islands (Gonâve, Tortue (Tortuga), Grande Caye, and Vache)

The population of Haiti is almost entirely descended from enslaved African people. It won its independence from France in 1804 but over the centuries economic, political, and social difficulties along with natural disasters have left Haiti with an ineffective government, chronic poverty and serious gang problems.

In 2010 an earthquake killed over a quarter of a million people in less than a minute, leaving about 1.5 million homeless. This was followed by a cholera epidemic then a series of alternating hurricanes, earthquakes or flooding, every year or two.

The democratically elected President was assassinated in 2021 so the Prime Minister took control and failed to hold elections multiple times (claiming it was due to logistical problems or violence). By the time he announced a further postponement until 2025 the violence took over. According to a report by the U.N. more than 8,400 people were killed, injured or kidnapped in 2023.

Armed groups have attacked airports, police stations, sea ports, the Central Bank and the country’s national soccer stadium. The two main prisons were raided, leading to the escape of about 4,000 prisoners.

To set the scene, the Australian Government travel advisory website (Smart Traveller) recommends that we… Do not travel to Haiti due to the dangerous security situation, threat of violent crime, kidnapping and severe shortages of basic necessities including fuel, water and food.

On the weekend that we were the gang leader’s child was sick, so obviously he blamed it on those that practice voodoo. So the only real option that he had was to kill over 180 people who practised voodoo.

In late December gang members looted, then destroyed and finally set fire to the only trauma hospital in the country. Millions of dollars of life-saving resources are gone. The first day, they threw Molotov cocktails over the wall burning a lot of it, the next day, despite the police, trying to defend it, they overwhelmed and jumped over the wall and began to ravage and pillage and steal everything. They stole microscopes (which is ridiculous because they don’t know how to use them and there is nowhere to sell them). They broke everything they couldn’t carry out, destroying millions of dollars worth of monitors, microscopes, operating, imaging and ICU equipment.

Any way you try and dress it up, Haiti is one of the most broken countries on the planet. Sadly, it is also one of the prettiest. If they could actually get their shit together it would easily rival and surpass many of its Caribbean neighbours.

In real terms (for all of the above reasons) we didn’t really experience Haiti, but we did land on the island of Hispaniola, in the area owned and controlled by Haiti. But what we REALLY saw was a place called Labadee.

Labadee is a 260-acre, entirely manufactured, private resort on the northern part of the island. It was leased to Royal Caribbean in 1985 by the government of Haiti (under the leadership of the dictator Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier). This lease was later extended to 2050.

The resort is completely tourist-oriented and is guarded by a private security force. The site is doubly fenced off from the surrounding area; passengers cannot leave the property and locals cannot enter. Food available to tourists is brought from the cruise ships. A controlled group of Haitian merchants are given sole rights to sell merchandise and establish their businesses in the resort.

This private bay and port of call is worth a trip but can only be accessed if you are on a cruise that includes Labadee on its itinerary. It is a beautiful place known for its beaches, crystal clear waters, artisanal market, and the ‘Dragon’s Breath’ (the world’s longest over-water zipline).

There are also plenty of water activities and tours available like fishing charters, luxury sailboat trips, snorkeling excursions, and catamaran cruises. Maximize your day by hopping on the free tram to get around. December through April are good months to visit for pleasant weather.

Dragon’s Breath is a thrilling zipline adventure where you race down a 2,600-foot flight line while sitting up, enjoying stunning views and landing at Dragon’s Breath Rock. On the other hand, Dragon’s Fire Zipline takes you on a sky-high adventure as you race head-first like “Superman” along 2,800 feet of cable over the ocean, offering a different route and perspective of Labadee’s beautiful scenery. Dragons Breath Zipline – Enjoy stunning views as you zip down a 2,600-foot flight line at speeds of 40 to 50 mph, landing at Dragon’s Breath Rock.

Attractions include a Haitian flea market, beaches, watersports, a water-oriented playground, an alpine coaster, and the largest zip-line over water.

If you could actually get into Haiti proper, there are some nice things to see. Some of these include:

Laferriere Citadel most commonly known as Citadele Henri, is the largest fortress in the Americas. Located in the town of Milot, a 6-8 hour drive north of the capital.

The mountaintop fortress was built to demonstrate the power of the independent Haiti (1804) and to protect its citizens if the French attempted to retake the nation.

The 100,000 square foot building includes several cisterns and storehouses, designed to provide enough food and water for the royal family and up to 5000 people to survive an entire year under siege. The Citadel is equipped with over 150 cannons – mostly captured in battle from the English, the French and the Spanish – and thousands of cannon balls, once over 50,000 in total. With such an armoury and walls over 13 feet wide and 100 feet high, the fortress was impenetrable.

Sans-Souci Palace, which translates to ‘the Worry-Free Palace’, dates back to 1811. Like the Citadel it was built just after Haitian independence.

The Palace was built as a residence for the revolutionary leader (Henri Christophe), who would become king in 1811. The palace was one of many lavish constructions commissioned shortly after independence.

And if you could get to them, Haiti has some of the most amazing beaches.

Long story short, Haiti is a stunning Caribbean paradise destination that is just too dangerous to come to. The people understand their issues and plead for the tourists to come and spend their money, but the corruption, gangs and violence means that it will not happen. The adventurous side of me really wants to come and explore more fully, but the self-preservation side will continue to win.

Travelling the world in a pre and post COVID state