Tag Archives: tourists

Day 17 – Cliffs of Disappointment

We couldn’t wait to leave the campground in Galway. It didn’t feel welcoming at all. Instead, you had to pay for a hot shower and in the morning, we realized you even had to pay to use the campers’ kitchen. That was just a little too much for us. Even so, we met a friendly fellow traveller at breakfast to swap stories with. He’s lived in New Zealand for the last 23 years and he just joined our conversation when Flo was going on about the (Path of) Exile Con in Auckland next year.

deep contemplation

We weren’t too sure what we’d get to do today. Planning wasn’t really in the cards as we didn’t even know where we’d end up sleeping yesterday. But there were plenty of options.

Number 3 had bugged us about wanting to see a castle for a while. We agreed in principle though somehow the time wasn’t right. Dunguaire Castle was on our way today…we didn’t stop. Again, it just didn’t seem right for today. We had just left Galway.

In the end, our first proper stop was my pick: Hazel Mountain Chocolate factory. Flo and I had already agreed on skipping the factory tour. Buying chocolate in a factory outlet is a totally different thing though. When we got there, a tour bus had just pulled in so we swerved a little and sat down in the café before hitting the store. The café was lovely, serving hot drinks and baked goods, full of chocolatey goodness. All of it came in lovely pottery, making the experience extra cute. As you can imagine, I was happy. The kids seemed happy, too.

In the store, the tour was about to start. What had they done all this time? Shopping? Anyhow, the tour guide invited us to come along which was amazingly friendly of her. Flo and I listened for a bit but it is hardly our first chocolate factory tour. So we browsed the wares, turning around whenever something cool turned up in the talk. Number 3 got to smell cocoa beans, Flo got a handful of single origin chocolate to try. When the kids waved at the lady busy with actually making chocolates, she came out and rewarded both of them with chocolate covered marshmallows. A visit can’t be more of a win than this.

the pass into the Buren national park

Flo picked the next point of interest for today: The Burren National park. The Burren are a stony landscape that you can walk through or in our case, drive through. Flo is a fan of limestone so he was particularly looking forward to this part. At a road side car park, we got out to check out if we could walk around for a bit. Per chance, we’d stopped right next to the beginning of seven hiking trails, two of which were marked as easy and loop walks of only about 1.5km. Number 3 picked the white one which we walked in its entirety. We hadn’t actually planned a walk here. Thus, lunch had to be improvised. We had spaghetti leftovers at the roadside with recently bought chocolate for dessert. 😊

The one good view …

County Clare’s big draw are the cliffs of Moher though. The Lonely Planet (which I’ve been reading way more than Flo) already instilled caution in me, given its description of the place. In fact, they turned out to be the cliffs of disappointment. It’s a gigantic tourist attraction, no question. You queue to pay your ticket fee, are ushered to your parking spot, walk with the crowd to the wall separating you from the cliff edge, take a couple of pictures and leave again. Yes, the cliffs are high and yes, they are steep. The experience is almost lost in the crowds. Sliabh Liag was way more atmospheric than this. The best way to see the cliffs of Moher is probably by boat. We just didn’t want to spend that kind of cash on it. It’s not cheap.

From here, our campsite slowly came to mind. We’d booked a site in Doonbeg without electricity (nothing else was available) so the car needed to be charged if we wanted to start early tomorrow morning. The charger in Lahinch was luckily available (after a 10 minute wait), which even gave the kids an excuse to put their feet in the ocean one more time.

The Strand Camping Doonbeg wasn’t used to one night travellers. At least everything was set up to feel much more long term. Still happy that we had a place to sleep, we set up before the rain, had a lovely shower and brought the kids to bed.

I kept threatening to throw them over – they still trust me 😀
It looks so much like the Transalp XL650V, I felt homesick 😀
considered going in, autentic clans castle – too early to stop though
better stop here – chocolatly goodness
deep contemplation
Number 3 learning how its done
milk chocolate or dark?
this is how its done
the pass into the Buren national park
good fun going 80 km/h – ralley feeling
kid colour-matched to track markers 😉
“walk alone!” – ok, go for it, litttle goat
inquisitive mind at work – “mama, mama – a big root!”
over stick and rock
of cause we climed up the one rock …
An otherworldly landscape with the exposed limestone
the kids called out “tunnel”
Here and there, a tuft of grass survives the lime
Goodbye Buren National Park
that crow has seen better days …
The tallest section
The one good view …
Number 3 went wildlife spotting again
Sweet treats to keep ’em going
Do you see a pattern here?
display broken, brightness always on max 😀

Day 21 – what‘ up, beaches?

Time to leave. Even though this place invites a much slower pace, as do some of our fellow travellers. This is just what we do. Besides, to get around we pretty much need to break camp – and once we do so, we feel we might as well be moving on. Coming back to the same places, no matter how nice they are, often feels like treading water.

So we pack, slowly – say our goodbyes and are off again. Distances are still minute – thus we took the scenic route via smaller winding mountain roads. Near Monchique, we saw widespread tracks marked by the aftermath of the regular wildfires that hit this region, to the frustrations of the locals. Tragic it is, but as in Australia, I must say that a post-fire cork oak growth looks pretty spectacular. Especially one year after, the contrast between the charcoal black tree trunks and the fresh green leaves and grass is a striking sight.

Not much in the mood for lingering, we decided to move on to our first destination. Today was set aside for beaches. Several of them, actually. The first one, Praia Dona Ana, was in a bit of a doubtful area to begin with. Nearby Lagos is a fully “developed” tourist destination, still mildly less dreadful than most of the Costa del Sol. The beach was pretty much in line with that. Dramatic sandstone formations all around, sure. But we have seen this before. Even with relatively few “rotisserie chickens” as we call the usual beach goers, there was this lingering air of high season over crowdedness. Our travel elitism did not help either – we have seen probably 100 beaches by now. Some of them so near perfect that it is hard to compete.

We let Number 3 enjoy the sand for a while – took a couple of photos and decide to try our luck elsewhere. The little one found quite the liking to smooth sand and seashells. He was definitively more apprehensive when it came to the sudden cold rush of a wave flowing past his calves.

Next stop would be the fort of Sagres. It’s situated on a sandstone spit where generations of sailors said farewell to the homeland one last time before journeying across the Atlantic. Given our continued bad luck with Lonely Planet food recommendations (permanently closed, once again), we chose the cliff as our lunch spot. A pretty great one in my mind, but even 10 meters from the drop and with Number 3 properly secured on my lap, Nina could never quite relax to take in the scene fully.

We even enjoyed the change in weather, reminding us a lot of New Zealand and the many changes throughout the day back home in Wellington. We like the sun, but often times a lot for the shade that comes with it. Beaches and cliffs in direct midday sun can be surprisingly unwelcoming to pasty white central Europeans.

The final stop for the day was the highlight as well, for sure. The rougher Atlantic west coast makes for more dramatic scenes and also keeps the touristy types to an acceptable level. Instead, we moved into dude (as in Surfer Dudes) country. Much more overlap, I would say. The very first stop at Praia Da Bordeira landed us at the unofficial camp spot of the beach. It seems most of them have one of these around here. This time of year, they are almost exclusively the domain of surfers and more rugged parental leave families (with some overlap of the two groups). We are still happy with our set up, but places like these bring out the longing for a self-contained vehicle. Then again, they would also not have been any good on the bike, so where is the loss?

We wandered around a bit from here first and found that we were still far in the dunes, at the river meandering its way to the ocean. Great place for Number 3, since there are no waves here – so he got a lot braver with the water here, and his diaper paid the price 😉

We hopped in the car one more time to go on a little further to a set of viewpoints on the cliff and the actual beach access. The views were beautiful, and even the sun showed her face a couple of times cheekily through the clouds. We could have lingered a bit longer, but it was time to find a camp and cook dinner.

With no great options around (confirmed by the lot of Elternzeit families we met) we chose close and cheap. The camp was actually pretty cool. A grove of Eucalyptus big enough for 120 lots with only maybe 20 stays at the moment. Plenty of safe space for Number 3 to roam around while I took exceptionally long to prepare spaghetti al arrabiata for us.

As I wandered around a bit after the little one was brought to bed, I stumbled into the camp of some known faces: Johannes, Maike and their two kids made it here as well – having secured a quiet corner far off from a lot of hassle to stay a bit and explore from here. They send me off with a tip to check out the local beach, which was not on our radar yet. We took note and will probably give it a try tomorrow.

  • blackend trees green again
  • Blue George playing ralley car again
  • everything is green and flowering
  • a beach
  • a bit sheltered, but this is the Atlantic. He was having none of it
  • sand, much better
  • Sandstone in the foreground, city in the back
  • ‘edgy’ lunch spot …
  • … I am a dad now, dad jokes are ok!
  • minimum allowed distance from the edge
  • Two cars far away from home
  • “oh, this water is fun now?”
  • “Up!” “you can walk” “Up!”
  • Look, there are sticks here, too!
  • there is a lot less slack in the new pair of these pants …
  • what a place to camp!
  • nose into the wind
  • wwwrooosh!
  • prime seats
  • something is off with these new dry pants …
  • whole beach with the river in the back
  • the dudes
  • properly teaching wreckless behaviour

Day 233 – Tiger Cage

Arriving early to stay for the whole process

Arriving early to stay for the whole process

The warehouse would open at 8.30 am and was only 3 km away as the crow flies, giving us ample time to pack and have a leisurely breakfast. There was a beautiful grey cat with sky blue eyes living at the resort, and she joined us in the hope for scraps. Only one of us was disappointed in the end 😉

Both our resort and the warehouse were at the eastern edge of town, where rice paddies and wooden huts mix with motorways and industrial development on a lot by lot basis. Luckily the GPS was un-phased and we had the coordinates for the place. I sometimes wonder how people found anything in places like this before good maps and GPS …

Battery has to be disconnected. Also note that the wind screen and mirrors are gone

Battery has to be disconnected. Also note that the wind screen and mirrors are gone

At the packing place, people were already busy at work. I was determined to stick around and make sure the box ends up as small as possible, after the disaster in Auckland. Since it was only for sea freight then, the enormous box only lost us about $100, but this time the story was different. I knew how small the bike could be packed from the crate I built for when we shipped the bike to New Zealand. The difference between these two crates would be $1500 NZ in air freight fares, so I was not about to leave that to chance.

Sure enough, the first suggestion from the master crate maker was comically huge – coming out at a volume weight of 550 kg. So with some pointing and an old picture of the bike in the crate I made, he agreed to these measurements – resulting in a crate with 375 kg volume weight.

Third step: Secure the front fork so the bike can't move

Third step: Secure the front fork so the bike can’t move

We had to wait a little while for the guys to finish an urgent order of some 15 pallets – all build from scratch – to finish. That gave us just enough time to finish the paperwork. But soon enough, the base pallet was assembled and I joined the guys in getting the bike in place. Getting the front wheel out was a bit of a mission without a jack, but it worked. Some re-positioning and the bike was being secured on the pallet.

Next step was getting all the other bits and bobs on and shrink wrap it all up like Spiderman’s wildest dream. While taking some pictures, we realised just in time that we had left the surface in one pannier. I rushed down and saved it from the clutches of the wrapper just in time.

The final product: Rocinante in a tiger cage

The final product: Rocinante in a tiger cage

The crate was nice and solid in the end and came in at about 1/4 of what we payed in New Zealand. Then again, also came with an annoyance in the end. Once everything was done, master crater Bob realized that he forgot to take the pallet itself into account and the box ended up 10 cm higher. I once again scold myself for being respectful and nice and suffering the fool in the end. So here we are, with a crate slightly bigger than the one I build myself – costing us another 200 euro in freight more than it needed to.

The whole affair took us less than 2.5 hrs. By 11 am, we were in a taxi on our way to central Bangkok. We even got to use the cursed elevated highways for the meager fee of 75 baht – since this time we were in a vehicle with the “appropriate” number of wheels.

Expensive but moldy "superior" room in central Bangkok...disappointed

Expensive but moldy “superior” room in central Bangkok…disappointed

Our hotel ended up as quite the disappointment. We chose a recommendation from the lonely planet, and it was not cheap (by our standards). Even though the room was big, it was damp, moldy and smelly and overall a lot tourist trappy in its feel.

For lunch, we went to a recommended vegetarian Thai restaurant, but were a bit disappointed again. The area here, near Khao San Road, is called a “backpacker ghetto” by some and we are learning why. Here more than anywhere else, we get the feeling that a lot of the economy is based on whities fresh from the plane with no idea of what things should cost. It is not uncommon that you can get a pad thai of similar quality for 40 bath in one place and 140 baht next door.

One of Bangkok's canals in evening light during our food hunt

One of Bangkok’s canals in evening light during our food hunt

That night we also went through the ordeal of buying flights for Dubai. Initially we wanted to leave on Saturday, but there were no good deals available any more. Only Emirates flies directly and their prices are about 50% more than any other one stop would cost. We ended up with a good compromise with an overnight flight Sunday to Monday via Muscat that was about 10% more than the cheapest flights but would save us one night in a hotel. But just when we wanted to buy it, it was not available anymore! From previous experiences I knew that researching flights can lead to increased prices or even offers being gone entirely because every site locks the flight for 15 minutes or so to complete your booking. Looking at more than one site at once can lead to gridlock. Lucky for us, just waiting an hour to release all the reservation did the trick and we were able to book. Dubai, here we come!

Day 114 – The Leberwurst Connection

It was almost a sin not to have taken a photo of our marvelous breakfast. Then again, some things should be enjoyed uninterrupted. We decided to go all in with the level of the accommodation and have breakfast there. It was excellent: Freshly toasted home made bread, local made jams, fresh fruit salad, scrambled egg and fresh juice. It was so delicious! We even had briefly considered staying another night, but after that breakfast we were thoroughly luxuried out.

View back north where we came from

View back north where we came from

We took our time and were back on the road by 11 am. By chance of our starting position, our GPS chose a beautiful back road back up the mountain towards our first goal. The three lakes looked cool on the map and as expected delivered on beautiful roads and moderate amounts of tourists.

We briefly dipped down to the lakes themselves, but found little to hold us for longer. The first one was the most touristy and after realizing that we stopped in front of another temple. Half way out of our gear we did a 180° and were back on the road in no time. The second lake was quieter and had the first campground we found in Indonesia on its shores. It was too early to think of camping and the warung had no food – so after a quick drink with lake view we headed for the ridge road over the last two lakes.

at lunch, great spot

at lunch, great spot

Coming in we saw that the ridge road had plenty of eateries with a view, so that is where we were heading for. The road held true with all levels of eateries. We ended up stopping at a top end warung run by a french expat. He had the trees on the lake side cleared and put up tables across the street so that guest could eat with a view. I had a chat with the owner, who it turned out had been travelling quite a bit in his day.

I still did not make it all the way back to our table after that. As happened in New Zealand, a couple on vacation from Germany noticed the German licence plate on Rocinante and we got talking some more. Alexandra and Patrick seemed definitively to be on the nicer end of tourists we encounter. Just earlier that day we had another weird run in with Germans that re-affirmed our dislike for “touristy” areas. We got asked the same disinterested questions and then got ignored while answering because they had to purchase ridiculously overpriced rubbish from hawkers. Anyway, we gave a business card to Alexandra and Patrick when they left and soon after headed out ourselves.

german welcome for a german bike

german welcome for a german bike

The last itinerary for the day before finding a place to stay. Back in Dili, we got an address from fellow German traveller Hubert – go and say hi to Richard at his place in Lovina. Aptly named “Deutsches Eck” (German corner) we were in for a rough culture shock. Richard has build himself a good life here, with a family and a good little hotel. As we were ready to head out again to find a place to stay (the rooms here are a bit too pricey for us) Richard offered us to stay on the bale bengong (A 3x3m raised platform with a roof for shade that is out front most houses for chilling during the day). We got a mosquito net and there were even blinds, all for an unbeatable fee for the night. When he threw in the promise of “Leberwurst” and sour dough bread, we could not refuse, could we?

So we stuck around for the night, chatted to Richard’s sons, other guests and German expats that came by and gathered further contacts along what we dubbed the “Leberwurst Connection” – a row of German expats along our further path through Indonesia. Speaking German again and even seeing German dishes on the menu was cool and supremely weird at the same time. Definitively something we will need to process a bit once back on the road.

Day 109 – Deja vú

In a sudden turn of events I found myself waiting again. In the same ridiculous waiting room from hell, with no phone, no book and only official notifications around to read. I have read them all, yesterday. So I stared at the soulless walls and the soulless service representatives. Waiting … hoping. Tell you what, it worked! At least we hope it did – the application is launched, payed for and officially received, including our passports. As far as we can tell, everything was filled out correctly and we meet the criteria of permanent residency for New Zealand. Now all we need is confirmation from the embassy and our passports back in Java with the right sticker in it.

Thanks for a good time!

Thanks for a good time!

Earlier this day we caught up with Santosh when he was having breakfast thinking this would be our time to say goodbye for good. It was again great to meet up with him – only improved by the kick ass morning smoothies we got shouted. We collected more tips for our continued journey , including on for potentially after visa hell.

So released from the clutches of bureaucracy, we set out to have a look at Pandawa Beach. And what a bizarre experience it was. The beach at the southern end of the southern peninsula has only very recently been developed. Or say, they have started development. The infrastructure is ready, but the massive resorts are currently only outlines of leveled dirt behind the beach. A road has been cut into the cliff down to the beach, and while they were at it, enormous niches with statues depicting characters from the Mahabharata were set up along it. Down at the beach is an enormous car park and a row of maybe 50 warungs along the promenade. That is it.

I must admit, I am puzzled by what the appeal of the beach for these girls is

I must admit, I am puzzled by what the appeal of the beach for these girls is

That is probably also the reason, why the beach is currently mostly visited by Indonesian domestic tourists (One family we talked to was on a grueling 4 day trip from Jakarta). They were carted here by the busload. The handful of bule (foreigners) looked appropriately out of place.

Everything is sorted out at the beach, for a small fee. Deckchair and umbrella? 30k rupiah! Drink? Whatever you want! Boat hire, sure! Need to pee? No problem, 2000 rupiah! We ended up staying for an hours or so. Enough to have a swim. The mood was spoiled a bit when a bunch of university students from Java started filming us – for bragging rights I assume.

Statues in Bali are often "dressed", even on public buildings

Statues in Bali are often “dressed”, even on public buildings

After the beach, we headed west along the coast to find a place, but nothing really got us hooked. Plus Nina was craving some city life. So at 5 pm, we found ourselves back in Sanur. One thing has changed: Since it was so touristy here, we were able to book a room online for a very good price, $23 NZ. The Abian Boga Guest House even had a pool! The water was cool, to boot!

We were even happier when we found a laundry nearby that would do our washing over night. It was sourly needed. With all things set, we texted Santosh one more time. He had to work next morning, but in the end we arranged for one more dinner. He brought his lovely friend Lisa. We discussed where to go and it turned out that our hotel had a good restaurant as well.

We sat down to great food and had more great conversation. The biggest surprise came when Lisa asked if there would be Balinese dancing that night, and the answer was yes! So completely unexpectedly, we got to see our first two dances before dinner.  Balinese dancing really is something special – hard to describe but fascinating to watch.

Thank you to Santosh and Lisa for the lovely evening!

Day 104 – “Global Culture”

When Ted Simon was on his second trip, certain events unfolded durng that September of 2001 that would even impact a traveler, roaming the world on his motorbike. I remember reading about his experience of the events – how simultaneous connected and utterly removed he felt.

As we move about and explore Lombok, events have unfolded in the last week that may have an impact that has the power to break through and even touch us, here, a world removed. In the last week, Daesh has carried out thee terrorist attacks against foreign nations involved in the conflict in Syria, Iraq and Kurdistan. And as always, civilians have paid the price. 46 died in Beirut, 220 on a plane in Egypt and now over 120 in Paris. Through being online for the blog every day, but also just because of who we are and how we live we can’t escape but be touched by these events.

Yet it all is so strange, so far removed and so utterly saddening. Our filter bubble on Facebook shields us a bit from the hatred and the vitriol and the 20th century nationalism that seems to be the inevitable result of such events, but we know it’s out there. Yet here we are, in the (democratic) country with the largest Muslim population in the world. We hear the muezzins’ calls every day. We eat, we talk, we smile and laugh with the people. We see them react and share the sadness. All sense seems to escape. We will do as feels right: continue on, watch, learn and prepare to come home and spread the world.

Today, as we were walking back to our accommodation from buying a beautiful fresh pineapple in town, Nina got side-lined. Three giggling girls obviously on their way to some kind of sport practice have waited on us to get a “selfie”. They were delighted when I offered to take the picture (clearly the woman was the attraction here). More giggles, honest thanks and smiles and we walked on with a great experience as they got to it sharing the picture on Facebook. … Oh, and they were all wearing the hijab.

We have escaped the “bule” or tourist circus in Senggigi and the traffic and heat of Mataram. Instead, we have arrived at the foot of the mountain once more. The heat is tolerable here, we are surrounded by immaculate rice terraces and gardens. All the noises are water flowing, frogs quacking and the occasional scooter passing by our guest house. Tetebatu is just the place we need to recover from our first encounter with a touristically developed area.

Nina’s input: Those girls were so cute! We passed them on our way down into the village and on the way back, they “ambushed” me with a request for a picture. I just wish we had our own camera with us. Flo took a “selfie” of the bunch of girls and me, cracking up laughing because I was about 50cm taller than them, while I cracked up laughing at Flo, holding out a mobile phone covered in “Hello Kitty” stickers.