The Promise

Snapshots of Harran:





































Kenneth has completed the difficult job of designing a whirlwind tour itinerary of ancient Biblical sites whilst we are in Turkey. There are so many to see and tours are expensive so we will endeavour to complete our itinerary of these sites independently. Any hints from those who have travelled these sites would be appreciated!

The first Biblical site we have seen so far is Harran. From Ankara we caught a domestic flight to the south-west town of Sanliurfa. From Sanliurfa we caught a public mini van to Harran. Harran consists of some ruins of a citadel and the foundations of the old city as well as local families living in unique beehive homes. However, none of the ruins predate Abraham's time. We can only go so far as to imagine that perhaps the rocks and boulders we trod on may have been sat upon by Abraham?

Read Genesis 12 for the account of God promising Abraham that he would bless his seed so that his descendants (ie. the nation of Israel) would be a blessing to the nations. It was very moving for Kenneth and myself as we walked through Harran knowing that it was because of this one promise that we, as non-Jews now also have been graced with eternal relationship with our loving Creator and Dad.

Turkish Delights

Antakya (modern day Antioch where Paul and Peter got into quite a bit of trouble sharing the Good News ... they're my heroes now that I can better appreciate what they must have had to put up with ... the cynicism, the hatred, the apathy... ) ... Ankara ... Istanbul ... 3 major cities in Turkey all in one day! No wonder I am pooped! Our day began at 4am yesterday. We flew out of Antakya at 7am, arrived in the capital Ankara at 8am and spent the day exploring the impressive Ataturk mausoleum and then caught the 1:30pm bus to Istanbul. It was surprisingly the best mausoleum I have ever been to complete with grand garden surrounds, history write-ups accompanying photos, actual cars and boats Ataturk owned, good documentary, life size mannequin and painting enactments of battles fought with realistic sound effects and amazing artifacts including Ataturk's bejeweled swords and grooming kit! To top it all off, entry was completely free (unlike the Central Asian rip-off mausoleums which were plain graves). For the history buffs, Ataturk was an Ottoman and is the founder of Turkish independence. In fighting for independence, he also killed many Aussies (hence, we commemorate ANZAC day) but let's leave this a rosy post and just say that I now better appreciate that modern day Turkey would not exist today had the ANZACS won. In fairnessm I'd never heard their side of the story being told back home. We plan to head out to Gallipoli from Istanbul where the Turks have now respectfully allowed an Australian memorial to be erected.

From Ankara, we arrived at Istanbul at 8pm, found ourselves a fantastic double room deal at the ironically named SYDNEY Hotel on the European side (as opposed to the Asian side) of Istanbul's Bhosphorus. Istanbul is fortunate to lie spread out and sandwiched between four bodies of water - namely the Marmara Sea, the Black Sea, the Bhosphorus and the Goldenn Horn endowing the city with picturesque waterfront views from every hilltop.

The jovial Turkish youngsters that run this place seem to get a big kick out of greeting me 'G'day sheila!' each time we run into each other through the corridors and el fresco rooftop. It took me a good few seconds to work out what exactly was being said in their tilting Turkish accented English and I had to laugh bemusedly at something I don't think I have ever heard in real life back home! We have our own balcony upon which we can look upon the colourful and pumping nightlife beneath us by night whilst we indulge in our takeaway baclavas flavoured with pistachio, hazelnut or chocolate with apple tea. By day, the balcony allows us to gaze out onto the Bhosphorus dotted with the silhouettes of cruise liners, sail boats, ferries and cargo ships. This more hedonistic European side of Istanbul is reknown for its nightclubs, Turkish jazz scene, fine dining haunts, cheap doner kebab joints, very good (and free!) art galleries and boutique coutures.

There are so many sides and facets to Istanbul that you'd really need to see a map of to work it all out! I am already tired just reading the whole chapter Lonely Planet has dedicated to Istanbul and I have already decided I will have to be very selective with what I do in in this city as there is no way we will cover everything there is to do, see and sample here. Istanbul is a holiday destination in itself especially if you love the commercial buzz and the east meets west flavour infused with old and new.

Istanbul lies in stark contrast to our experiences of the eastern cities and towns of Turkey and Central Asia. It a tourist mecca and UNESCO listed for the number of heritage buildings (including churches from the Byzantine era, mosques from the Ottoman empire, palaces and harems) it boasts. There are also museums, art galleries, bars, restaurants and bazaars all within walking distance from the old town hub of Sultanahmet where we have positioned ourselves to stay for the next 2-3 nights. It's arguable that there are more tourists in Sultanahmet at any one time compared to locals! We now find ourselves in the heart of brazen commercialism which on the one hand feels sadly and oddly otherworldly because Istanbul feels robbed of the cultural purity which Central Asia, the Caucasus and even eastern regions of Turkey richly and innocently bestowed upon us. Yet on the other hand, it is a convenient marketplace to purchase any item imaginable under the sun from Turkish jewellery to Central Asian carpets and kilims. It seems that all goods traded from the days of the ancient Silk Road have all conglomerated under the roofs of Istanbul's chaotic and labyrinthine bazaars. I am relieved to know I made the right choice in not buying earlier on in my journey, avoiding the need to lug everything in (and on?!) my backpack. Feeling ancient-ruined-out and also museumed-out, I can't wait to dive into the Grand Bazaar though I have been warned to venture into this den only when in a good mood and ready for at least 3 hours of bargaining over small chatter and cay (tea) sessions with the merchants.

No story on Turkey would be complete without literal mention of that sinfully sweet delight that caused Edward his downfall under the White Witches' evil prowess. For those of you who share my love for turkish delight, here is an excerpt from Lonely Planet to keep you occupied while I continue my soujourn through Istanbul and if I am fortunate, I will find a good Turkish recipe book (in between all the jewelery, ceramics, rugs, belly dancing costumes, silk scarves, ornate knives, Aladdin shoes, olive oil beauty products and the prettiest glass mosaic lamps) to try my hand at making some of these delights myself:

Ali Muhuddin Haci Bekir was the most famous of all Ottoman confectioners. He came to Istanbul from the mountain town of Kastamono and opened a shop in the old city where he concocted delicious boiled sweets and the translucent jellied jewels known to turks as lokum and to the rest of the world as Turkish Delight. His products became so famous throughout the city that his sweetshop empire grew, and his name became inextricably linked in the mind of Instanbullus with authentic and delicious lokum. Today, locals still buy their lokum from barnches of the business he began over 2 centuries ago... As well as enjoying sade (plain) lokum, you can buy it with civizli (walnut) or sam fistikli (pistacchio) or flavoured with portakkalli (orange), bademli (almond) or roze (rose water). Ask for a cesitli (assortment) to sample the various types.

Turkey is truly a sweet tooth haven. Besides lokum, we have also succumbed to the varieties of baclava and also dondurma which is their very own rich, non-melting ice-cream! My guess is that it has a higher cream to ice component compared with regular ice-cream and buying one from a traditional ice-creamery complete with an ice-cream man dressed in traditional fun-fair garb playing 'ice-cream tricks' with you before actually serving you your cone makes it a worthwhile and unique giggle experience.

The first picture below is one of me dolled up by a friendly ice-cream man in Erzurum (who generously insisted in gifting me an ice-cream for being his good assistant!) after spending some time in his shop chatting in Mandarin to Ibrahim (the guy in the middle) who is home on summer holidays but studies at a university in Wuhan, China.

The second picture is one of my ice-cream man in action.

The third picture is of a tray of pictacchio baclava and the fourth picture is of a type of tatli (dessert) with a lighter than doughnut texture, doused in a honeyed sauce - just a teeny-weeny sample of voluminous Turkish confectionery sold at almost every street corner shop!

The Most 'Far Out' Toilet Award

This award has been inspired by the numerous extra-ordinary toilet experiences I have had the privilege of encountering over the last 4 months. Prior to backpacking around the world, I would never have considered that such a topic would be worthy of a blog post. Alas, my ignorant Western toilet experiences where I'd commonly spend a lot longer than necessary on the loo with my latest copy of Better Homes & Gardens or some fashion magazine propped on my lap did not prepare me well for what lay ahead.

I am now a changed woman. The new (and sometimes quite horrid) toilet experiences which I have survived to tell tales about have taught me to treat the toilet simply as a functional tool and no longer as a place of comfort or a 'break' from concentrated work.

So without further ado, the award nominees are:

5. In 5th place - Precariously balancing on 2 wooden planks above a drop/pit toilet only 2 metres deep below me out on the Mongolian steppe whilst a swarm of flies attacked my then tender butt (wild horse riding has now changed the condition of my butt too).

4. In 4th place - Sporadically going and then changing my mind and then going again and then changing my mind again ... at a pit toilet stop during a bus journey in Mongolia because 4 toilets were alligned but with only 1 metre high partitions, allowing the 2 men on either side of me to easily peer into my portion of the toilet. Needless to say, it wasn't a very comfortable experience.

3. In 3rd place - Dry retching and feverishly sweating at the stench of a reeking drop toilet whilst constipated and trying to go myself at a particular homestay in Tajikistan.

2. And the runner up is - Sweating it out nervously to do a 'No. 2' as quickly as possible out in the Mongolian desert whilst a baby calf fixatedly peered in on me through the planks of the wooden drop toilet hut.

1. And the winner is - The pathway in the little Tajik village of Langar where I could not even find a drop toilet so I had to just do it on the pathway and then wipe myself with a branch and two leaves with two little Tajik girls narrowly missing the spectacle! It happened to also be 'that time of the month' so it was particularly messy and this experience was particularly scarring in all its vulnerability.

Sheki

En route to the Azeri-Georgian border, we spent 2 nights in Sheki. Sheki is cupped in beautiful wooded mountains with an 18th century palace, picturesque old town (with plenty of melons being sold by the roadside for dirt cheap prices) and a characteristic caravaneserai (travellers' inn which olden day Silk Road traders would stop and stay at). Unfortunately, the caravaneserai was full so we homestayed with a family nearby instead. We enjoyed an evening meal at the garden restaurant at the caravaneserai on the first night with Bjorn and Christian, two German backpackers who also stayed at the same homestay as us.

The great thing about a homestay is that we could catch up with our chores and use the family's big buckets and clothes line to hand wash and dry our clothes. There are plenty of unglamorous aspects to backpacking too!

Kenneth got addicted to the sweet coated nuts that the little confectionery shop along the old town shopping strip produced. We also sampled extraordinarily schweeeeeeeeet baclava from this shop. The charm of this street lies in the fact that the cobbler, the music instrument mender, the butcher, the tailor, the confectioner, the copper tooler, the antique restorer ... all still go about their day like they did during the glory days of the ancient Silk Road.

A Touch of Paris

Our ferry docked at the port of Baku at approximately 2am. The hours on the ferry were long and arduous, not to mention the ride set us back $US90 each despite being a cargo ferry! Nevertheless the trip was made enjoyable with the company of David (from France) and Thomas (from Norway), our new friends and fellow backpackers both on their way home by land and sea after spending a year studying in Shanghai.

By the time we cleared immigration and arrived at the backpackers' joint recommended by Lonely Planet, it was already 3am and the backpackers' was full. 'You come tomorrow ... 10 o'clock... and I have room for you! Now full!' declared the young boisterous Azeri attendant. We ended up 'homelessly' wandering through Baku by night which startled us with its modern chic boutiques and Parisien styled architecture. Baku is in the midst of its second oil boom and the oil barons are pumping cash into upgrading almost every building fascade there is in the city. Baku certainly posseses some of the most exquisite architecture I have ever seen. Having done it tough in Central Asia in terms of material comforts over the past month (despite the very rich cultural experiences we had), we appreciated Baku so much more. In a zombie-like state, we ended up finding a 24 hour restaurant at 4am to have breakfast at and then took it in turns over the next 4 hours to crash into the comfortable couches to catch up with some Zzzzzzzzzs.

The rest of our 2 days in Baku was immensely enjoyable. We soaked in the atmosphere and enjoyed stopping by a particular bakery for delicious pastries and local treats like baclava. We made the most of being able to savour fine dining experiences for under US$10 each! David and Thomas continued to be entertaining and interesting travel partners and we dicovered our shared passion for good food and adventure as we scoured the city for interesting sights and walked along almost every quaintly cobbled street in the Old Town of Baku.

Baku, you'll be fondly remembered and recommended to our family and friends!

Azerbaijan

The initial plan was to simply whiz through the Causasus countries (Azerbaijan, Georgia and perhaps Armenia) so we can fulfill our mission to travel from Beijing to Venice (Marco Polo's route in reverse) entirely by land and sea. However, the Caucasus has proven to be a remarkably astonishing region of the world totally unknown to us up until 1.5 weeks ago.

Here is an excerpt from Lonely Planet on Azerbaijan which aptly summarises our experiences and impressions of the country:

Neither Asia nor Europe, Azerbaijan is an incredible tangle of contradictions and contrasts. It's a fascinating nexus of ancient historical empires. Yet, it's also a new nation finding its feet as it emerges from a war-torm post-Soviet chrysalis on a petroleum-funded gust of optimism. Surrounded by semi-desert on the oil-rich Caspian Sea, the nation's cosmopolitan capital, Baku, is a dynamic boomtown where flashy limousines and mushrooming skyscrapers sweep around a Unesco listed ancient core (a palace). Yet barely three hours' away lies an entirely different world - timeless villages clad in lush orchards from which shepherd tracks lead into the soaring Caucasus mountains. Where Baku is multi-lingual and go-ahead, the provinces shuffle to the gently paces click of nard (backgammon) on tree shaded tea-house terraces while women stay home, herds of cattle wander aimlessly along highways and potbellied bureaucrats scratch their heads in confusion on finding that an outsider has wandered into their territory.

Caspian Crossing

Once only an exotic name in history books and a faraway place on a map, the Caspian Sea met us in its emarald green hues late on Monday as we approached Turkmenbashi on the Turkmen side. Quite unremarkable in terms of size or scenery, it now yields its riches in oil and gas to the countries like Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan connected to it making them (some of its citizens anyway) very rich. Now we were going to cross it hopefully on the same day on a cargo ferry on an undetermined time and for an undetermined duration. So we wait.

Thankfully, we spend the night at the half decent Turkmenbashi Hotel in an airconditioned room albeit with comical 1500 way shower head and gurgling plumbing.
We hear that the ferry will not be leaving tonight because the winds are over 10km/h. when will it be ready t leave? No one knows. so we wait.

The next day, we try to prepare for the crossing by stocking up on water and supplies for the unknown duration. Before we could get into the swing of spending our last remaining Manats at the bustling bazaar, Liana our guide tells us to get to the ferry terminal urgently! We rush to the terminal only to find a burgeoning queue of anxious Azeris waiting at a small window to secure their talon to board the ferry with. We are number 24 and 25 we are told. So we wait.

Our hopes rose and fell in the proceeding 10 hours as we waited at the ferry terminal. A cocky Turkmen official was holding up proceedings saying that the ferry was not licensed to carry passengers, but things were still in the balance, open enough of course for him to receive a payment from the ship's captain. All of a sudden to our jubilation at 10pm we are bundled up and told to get on board.

The captain and some of his henchman are at the gaping mouth of the cargo ferry obviously full of oil blackened train bogies and demand our passports as well as USD$140 each. We reluctantly gave him our passports which he assured us would be returned upon arrival. We were told the price was USD$90 and wouldn't pay more, and he agreed, surprisingly.

Squeezing past the cargo hold of train bogies we made it up steep rusting stairs and were showed to our cabins, if you could call them that. This was no Queen Mary. The mattresses were the oldest most decrepid I'd ever seen, the toilet did not work and more water leaked out of the shower hose rather than the head and the lights did not work until the lady banged it hard. Thankfully though we could open the porthole window to allow some fresh sea breeze before the smells from the adjoining sewer became too apparent as it ran past our malfunctioning toilet.

Grateful to be on board, we refused to pay another $USD2 for clean sheets and lay down to rest very carefully in our silk sheets probably amongst frustrated bed bugs gnawing on their chomps to get to our warm flesh and to be lulled to sleep by the ferry slowly chugging out of port. We were on our way to Baku and only 12 hours later we'd be there! so we thought.

In the middle of the night, we were awakened by huge clanging which made Stephanie wake up with a start and start praying. I was too tired so just lay there listening. The gentle roll of the ship noticeably stopped. We were only half an hour out to sea and we had anchored and not moving an inch so we just lay there trying to sleep in the silence.

Only 9 hours later we felt the ferry moving again and 18 hours after that making it a nice round figure of 27hours we cross the Caspian Sea and arrive at the surprisingly European style city of Baku! As I sit here to reflect on the past 2 days, with my vision still continuing to bob gently up and down, I did actually enjoy the many hours spent breathing in fresh diesel laced air on the top deck where we went to escape the smell of raw seage being demped out of the ship's bilge into the Caspian sea. I must say all romantic appeals of the Caspian evaporated very quickly to be replaced with vows never to swim in the Caspian ever!

Nevertheless, we savoured the once in a lifetime crossing, and it was made even more enjoyable shared with a sturdy 23yr old Norwegian and comical 22yr old French backpacker who shared with us their incredibly vast library of travel experiences and wisdom together with their dwindling supplies of dry biscuits and melon. Still, we talked longingly about luxury cruises we would take in the future and of Club Med and touring Fiji on jetskis :) But this is how we crossed the Caspian.

Final Chapter in Central Asia - Turkmenistan

Kenneth and I walked across our final border in Central Asia on 7 August 2009 from Uzbekistan into the most closed country in Central Asia, namely Turkmenistan. Turkmenistan is the only Central Asian country where joining a tour is compulsory unless you opt for the 5 day transit visa at the border which does not come with a guarantee that you will actual get the visa.

Despite being expensive, in hindsight, we are actually glad to have joined a tour as it was a whole lot more relaxing than travelling independently and having to work things out for ourselves - pretty much what we have been doing for all the other Central Asian countries. Whilst haggling can be fun at times, most of the times when you are tired or it is late and dark, it becomes quite a chore.

Firstly, I'll say that Uzbekistan was a wonderful place if you appreciate architecture. The three ancient and glorious cities of Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva have the most magnificent Islamic Central Asian architecture with azure blue mosaics representing eras of rich history. We enjoyed visiting the chaikhanas (traditional tea houses) sitting cross legged on a raised tea bed with a small table in front of us on which we ate from. We are now quite good at ordering chai (local green tea), shashlyk, plov (delicious rice cooked with meat and vegies in cottonseed oil), laghman (hand pulled noodles which originally came from the Ughyurs), dimlama etc. Uzbekistan also spoils one for choice with its Uzbek style B&Bs set in a traditional home around a courtyard. We experienced quite a few of these as we moved around Uzbekistan. We also got to catch the local high speed train, the Sharq from Tashkent to Bukhara over 7 hours... it was a breeze after the Chinese train experience but their local movies are screened so LOUD on the train that even my ipod on full volume could not drown out the annoying banter. *sigh*

In terms of natural beauty and being able to experience living with real local families, I'd have to say Tajikistan still takes the cake.

We are now with a tour in Turkmenistan and travelling with a 19 year old Swiss girl, Frances whose maturity level is closer to that of a 30 year old, having been through quite a bit in her young life. She is travelling for 5 months and will be starting uni in Switzerland in 3 weeks. We actually happened to meet 3 weeks ago in Osh, Kyrgzstan when a group of backpackers called out to Kenneth and me to join them for dinner. I happened to sit beside Frances and soon we discovered that we'd be on the same tour in Turkmenistan. The Central Asian backpacking world is a small one and we keep bumping into people we met a month to 3 weeks ago and feel like old friends connecting up again in a different country! We arranged to meet Frances 2 days before our scheduled crossing into Turkmenistan at a little provincial town called Nukus in Uzbekistan which is the town just before the border. We successfully met up and the following morning, we caught a taxi to the border. The ride took about 40 minutes. Our guide was 1.5 hours late because her flight to meet us was delayed apparently. Other than that disconcerting start to Turkmenistan (the borders are always bit hairy to hang around at with military around holding big machine guns) we enjoyed the privilege of being guided through this country which we have discovered is very rich in gas! Turkmenistan probably gets the least tourists in all of Central Asia because it is so difficult to obtain a visa and because you have to join a tour which can be expensive. Our tourguide was an Armenian lady, 'Mrs Angela' who was born in Ashgabat. She spoke very good English but I still struggled with some of the Russian expressions and jokes. But she was vivacious, very friendly and gave us some good laughs aside from her run down on the Turkmen culture and historical significance to some sites we visitsed. We visited some sites in an ancient town and then we drive on 'the road to hell' towards the gas craters. I had no idea what a gas crater is until my time in Karakum Desert of Turkmenistan! Basically the gas was being mined and some of the areas where mining took place collapsed our in the middle of the desert (Turkmenistan is 85% desert!) creating a big deep hole in the desert. We visited 3 carters - one burning on fire, one bubbling with mud and one bubbling with gassy water! Pretty incredible! We spent last night camping out in the deserts under surreal moonscapes and made our own shaslyks and bbqed the meat and vegies served with non (the local bread) and their beautifully smoked cheese. Absolutely delicious!

The heat in Turkmenistan during this peak summer period was quite terrible though. It must have been about 45+ deg each day we were in Turkmenistan but I hear it can get up to 50 deg in the capital, Ashgabat some summers! I felt like a human shahlyk myself while out in the desert espcially! The wonderful thing out there was being amongst wild camels!

Ashgabat itself is an ultra modern 'marble city' of about 800,000. The roads and buildings are massive, in-laid with marble and expensive building materials. As Mrs Angela pointed out, the Turkmen leaders are not reknown for their modesty. A stark contrast to the villages and small townchips out in the Karakum Desert which we passed. Life must be unbelievably harsh out there in the desert. Just 2.5 days of desert and I've had enough! However, the evenings are beautiful in the desert, especially at sunset.

With this, we bid Central Asia, its curious cultures, hospitable people and stunning landscpes goodbye and cast our eyes across the Caspian Sea on the next mysterious region to be explored, the region of Caucasus where our new adventures are to begin when we disembark a cargo ferry at the port of Baku, Azerbaijan.

Cereal & Cold Milk at Tashkent Palace

The marble columns and olive organza and purple tulle curtains welcome me into Tashkent Palace as I heave my backpack over rich Persian carpets seemingly drenched in colours of red wine varietals. This modern Russian side of the Uzbek capital, Tashkent is a far cry from Gulnara B&B where we'd just spent the last 2 days. I feel like I have just crossed a border but in fact I have just travelled a few kilometres north of the same city.

Gulnara B&B was in the heart of old Tashkent where Chorsu Bazaar (the famed farmers' market) still bustles every morning with Uzbek women dressed in traditional headscarves and flowery maternity-like dresses and Uzbek men don their scull caps carting varieties of melons I have not set eyes on before. It is also where the wonderful aroma of spices from the age of Marco Polo such as tamarind, saffron, cardamon, cinnamon, teas, chillied spices, aniseed and a whole host of others which I can't quite put a name to punctuate the air with vigour and spectacularly colour the spice stalls.

But this morning, I sit in a world away from that experience in the luxurious surrounds of Tashkent Palace having paid a luxurious price for spending the night here. This is probably the plushiest accommodation we have experienced in our entire 3 months away so far (and even then it cannot compare with our bargain 5 star honeymoon experiences in South East Asia). We had initially counted on only spending 2 nights in Tashkent but it has turned to 4 nights partly because I fell ill the night we arrived in Tashkent and needed the recovery time and partly because the next high speed train, the Sharq leaves Tashkent for Bukhara, our next destination tomorrow (and not today which would have been more ideal). I suspect the semi-dried apricots I haggled for at a bazaar in Samarkand were the culprit for my upset tummy! But then, who really knows.... I was just thankful that Kenneth had recovered from his encounter with the runs in Dunshanbe and could take his turn showing me plenty of tender loving care while I had both the runs and was throwing up at the same time! This was a first for me ... but after a stressful day trying hard to replace electrolytes, I have recovered in very quick time and was really only ill for a day. Yesterday, I managed to walk around and scour Tashkent for train tickets to Bukhara with Kenneth though in a weaker than usual state. I am tempted to put photos of our ribs up with the caption 'Do you recognise these POWS?' but am also hesitating against it lest the joke causes our parents any anxiety. I am sure we will gain back all the weight when we cross over into Europe and head home via Asia (especially if we do stop by Singapore).

The dining hall at Tashkent Palace appeared set for a wedding banquet this morning with golden bows tied to each chair and tulle curtains blowing in the wind echoing a romantic interlude. The buffet breakfast was a feast for the eyes but what really caught my eye was the little table with cornflakes and a few other varieties of cereal scattered around a jug of cold milk! Something I have not come across in the last 3 months. After 3 months of being away from home, the simple pleasures in life like the familiar sight of a familiar breakfast brings such comfort and stirs a sense of longing for home in one's heart.

The Evils of Bribery and Corruption

We are now in Dushanbe (Tajikistan), the prettiest capital in Central Asia but one with not that much to do. We got here by shared transport on a Toyota land cruiser which provided a much smoother ride than the Russian jeeps. We scored the ride by haggling at the Khorog Bazaar and it took us about 20 hours to get from Khorog to Dushanbe via Kalaikhoum.

It is impossible to share all that has happened in the last few days but life has certainly been eventful.

The most aggravating thing about Tajikistan is the fact that the government and those who are seemingly in authority abuse their power over the people who are already so poor. I now understand why a Kyrgz friend (corruption is also rife in Kyrgzstan) said she would not be voting in the Kyrgz elections because not voting is also taking a stand. In her own words, she said 'Voting for the current government means voting from a thief. Voting for the oppostion menas voting for an even bigger thief.' I didn't fully comprehend the gravity of this stamenet a week ago but I am now the wiser having travelled through Tajikistan and been searched by border guards so many times. The worst incident was when we met border guards at 10pm who simply created an issue in order to obtain a bribe. They insisted that the dates between which our Tajik visa is valid must correlate with the dates on another document we hold called a GBAO permit to enable us to travel along the Pamir Highway. This was absolute bull. The small dimly it 'registration office' was crowded with about 8 Tajik border guards glowering over us. I disappointed myself in allowing myself to be intimidated. Kenneth was prepared for us to be detained for the night and refused to pay the bribe as a matter of principle though he was mostly hoping that this would just call their bluff.

After about 45 minutes of arguing, our driver got our passports back and bundled us into the landcruiser to continue our journey. Only later did we discover that our driver did not have the heart to leave us behind and so he ended up paying the bribe to the border guards. We are still fuming over the injustices that these authoritative figures perpetuate against their own people who have grown to accept it as a way of life. Since that incident we have heard of other incredulous stories of what border guards and policemen have done to both locals and foreigners.

It makes me want to do something .... anything! Is there something that we as an international community can do?

Langar and the Simple Life

[Written on 24 July 2009]

We continued driving through the Wakhan Valley past the most stunning landscapes of cliff faces and the rivers which act as the border line between Tajikistan and Afghanistan.

Today, we stopped off at some ancient, abandoned forts which were built decades ago to protect the Wakhan Valley from potential attacks. In reality, the border is now riddled with check points every few kilometers. It was quite a hassle having to have our passports checked and registered at each checkpoint but our driver, Omarbek would simply collect our passports and take it into the registration office, leaving us in his Russian jeep. It did occur to be that it was odd that at most checkpoints, no border guard came to have a look at us to ensure it was actually our passport that they were registering. In hindsight, I now suspect that our driver's cost already included bribe money needed to get us through each checkpoint. This makes me angry as I experienced for the first time the injustices and abuse of power perpetuated by a corrupt government against its own people. I have never felt so passionately about this before till now. More on this issue in a later post.

We also stopped off at Bibi Fatima's Hot Springs. It was a queer operation where men and women enter separate bathhouses. In the bathhouses, you strip down and enter the hot springs through a cave hole. This hole leads you to the hot springs under calcite formations. I was not able to bathe as it was that time of the month for me but was persuaded by a local girl who was an English student in Dushanbe to just have a look which probably made the other women in the springs a tad uncomfortable, being in the nude with a fully clothed foreigner peering in on them! Kenneth came back from his bath blown away by the cultural experience. He commented that descending the steps of the cave hole in his birthday suit while a dozen generously endowed and circumcised Tajik men watched was one of the most intimidating experiences he has ever had!

I ended up purchasing a Pamiri style necklace made by a girl working at the hot springs. Being poor at Maths and having not acclimatised in currency conversion since my dealings with the Kazakh tenge and Kyrgz som, I paid 20 Tajik somani for the necklace thinking I got a good bargain for a necklace under AUD$1.00 only to later realise I'd actually paid AUD$7.00 for it. Still, I like the necklace and I liked the girl who made and was selling it so hopefully a little encouragement of her talent will go a long way though the concept of paying 'foreigner's price' for an item does annoy me at times. It must be my Australian egalitarian upbringing which stirs this emotion.

To give you an idea of the price discrepancies between foreigners and locals, the foreigner's fee for the hot springs was 10 somani (AUD$3.30) while locals pay a mere 2 somani (AUD$0.60).

After 6 hours on the road, we arrived at Langar village which is the most picturesque village I have ever come across, scattered across the descending slope of a fertile valley rich in wheat, rice and vegetable crops. The village faces the mountains of Afghanistan and gentle streams run through the village providing natural irrigation for the crops. We took a 1.5 hour walk around the area before dinner, led by 2 cute little village girls we chanced upon. They were keen to show us where we could enjoy the best views of their village. Like gazelles, the skipped over streams and brooks and ran up hills effortlessly while we plodded along behind them. We homestayed with a family in Langar for US$15 each, including dinner on the first night and breakfast the next morning. The homestay was a typical Pamiri house where an empty carpeted room (with various carpets also strewn across the room as wall hangings) is converted into a bedroom by laying out thin mattresses on the floor. It was comfortable aside from the fact that the pit toilet was a 2 minute walk away and there was nowhere to bathe. I suspect the villagers just bathe in the river.

Crossing Over from Kyrgzstan to Tajikistan

[Written on 23 July 2009]

kenneth and i survived the 12 hour army jeep ride from osh to mugrab yesterday. it was rough and bumpy pretty much all the way along the pamir highway but the changing landscapes were spectacular. when leaving kyrgzstan, we were treated to fields of wildflowers and gushing streams as we rode across the fergana valley. there were plenty of alpine lakes, salt beds and ginger coloured marmots scurrying across gravel rocks (they looked like garfield the fat cat!).

we saw some dodgy things take place between our driver, the kyrgz border guards and the tajik border guards but we will elaborate further once we are out of central asia! the lonely planet describes the pamir highway as 'the opium highway' to give you a clue.

tajikistan's landscape is surreal... like a different planet! parts of it looks very similar to taliban territory which we have seen on the news! one of the most majestic views was one of karakol lake glistening in a baby green hue set against semi-dessert mountains with the snow capped pamir mountains amd the hindu kush ranges all the way across pakistan in the backdrop. we will upload photos as soon as we find a place with unlimited internet!

we are now in a town called mugrab which is embedded in the pamir mountains and it looks like what we imagine bethlehem town to look like! we are both suffering from mild altitude sickness (headaches, shortness of breath, constant weeing, loss of appetite) due to being over 3600 m above sea level. the highest pass we went through to get here was over 4000 m above sea level. we are staying at Surab's Guesthouse which functions more like a homestay. there are 5 spanish cyclists also staying at Surab's - all P.E. teachers. no surprise as you'd have to be super fit to conquer the harsh pamir region by bike! Surab has a wife, 4 lovely Tajik daughters and a little son of about 7 years. Tajiks have lovely olive skin (some with green eyes!) and look like a cross between Afghans, north Indians and Persians/Iranians. the homestay has been ... interesting. we are sleeping in a room with a raised stage with two mattresses laid out on the floor for us. in another section of the room is a small table upon which we are served our meals whilst we sit on the floor on a rectangular mattress. we understand that this is a typical pamiri home. the pit toilet isn't too bad (better than in mongolia) but the bath area which is without any lighting and looks like a torture chamber takes a bit of getting used to.

the mugrab bazaar is pretty strange. the vendors all sell their goods from steel shipment containers - traces of the soviet era. i am guessing this is due to the dust which is prevalent up here and also the cold. i did manage to get some fantastic shots at the bazaar. mugrab consist of about 40% kyrgz people and 60% tajiks.

we are now trying to organise transport to get to khorog via the beautiful wakhan valley tomorrow. another 10+ hour drive awaits us but the scenery between the hindu kush and pamir mountains promises to be well worth it according to the european tourists with whom we are crossing paths.

Assalam from Osh!

[Written on 21 July 2009]

Yesterday, we flew out of Bishkek to the southern town of Osh here in Kyrgzstan. Since the flight was just $US60, we thought we'd fly this leg instead of haggle at the bazaar in Bishkek for a taxi. A fair price for the taxi to drive the 13 hour stretch from Bishkek to Osh would have cost US$30 each.

Flying was quite an experience. Part of the air stip also functions as the US military base from which the US keeps an eye on Afghanistan. It was amazing to see real life US Air Force airplanes and troops. We flew in a small aircraft with Kyrgzstan Airlines and we soon understood why this was a blacklisted airline (by the way only 3 companies fly from Bishkek to Osh and they are all black listed). There was no air-con for half the duration of the flight and there were even flies in the cabin. It was sweltering in the cabin and everyone was using the cardboard given to us with safety instructions as a fan. Before take-off we were each given a black plastic bag because the chances of throwing up must have been probable.... in fact, I did feel nauseous towards the end of the flight when it dipped a few times. Also, after the air-con was switched off just before landing, the vents started leaking from precipitation! So Kenneth's pants got a little wet as there was a vent above him. Needless to say, this was yet another new experience for us but it wasn't too bad because it was just a 1 hour flight!

Osh certainly has a more Central Asian feel to it compared to Bishkek. Bishkek wasn't too unlike Almaty in terms of its Soviet layout with plenty of flags, dancing fountains and leafy parks with statues of the Soveit era's greats like Lenin. Osh is a lot more overtly Muslim with more women in head scarves but their dresses and clthing are still very colourful with plenty of prints on them.

Today, we walked through the main bazaar and saw amazing things for sale. We then headed for a little mountain called Solomon's Throne. Legend has it that this was where Solomon once came to sit and meditate. Not sure if it was where he may have written Proverbs or Ecclesiastes? Not sure if all this is truie but this is what the Muslims here believe. Solomon is 'Suleiman' to them. Osh is made up of up to 40% Uzbeks and the rest are Kyrgz. Not that many Russian here. This region has been fough over for centuries because Osh runs through the very fertile Fergana Valley and so many of the Central Asian nations want it to grow their crops. Very strangesly, the border of Kyrgzstan was drawn in such a way that this town which had to many Uzbeks ended up being part of Kyrgzstan instead of Uzbekistan! So we are staying at Osh Guesthouse which is run by Uzbeks!

Uzbeks look more north Indian or Iranian/Persian whereas Kyrgz have mixed Europeans and Asian features. I am now better able to differentiate between the various Central Asian races. Have not yet met any Tajiks or Turkmen so am increasingly curious about what they look like!

We are meeting a lot of European backpackers now and exchanging travel information and tips in passing ranging from the routes travelled to the cost of transport (so we don't get ripped off!). They are telling us about the things they have seen and experienced in Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan and Turkey (all places we are heading towards) whilst we are telling them who to contact in Bishkek, Kazakhstan, China and Mongolia because their onward journeys will take most of them to those places. It is just like the days of Marco Polo when the European traders passed through Osh to get to Asia with their horse laden goods and the Asian traders also passed through Osh with their spices, teas and crafts usually on camels or yaks. How amazing that we have reached the middle point of trade on the Silk Road!

Tomorrow, we will be sharing a private car with a Swiss girl we've met at Osh Guesthouse and we will head towards Sary-Tash and cross the Kyrgz-Tajik border. The Swiss girl will be getting off at Sary-Tash to cross the Irkhtam Pass into China and she is headed to Kashgar. She is a cyclist so she will cycle the rest of the way. The Europeans love to cycle the Silk Road - tough but amazing! We will then continue to Mugrab, Khorog and finally arrive in Dushanbe which is the capital of Tajikistan! At this stage, we have only worked out how to get to Mugrab. As per usual, we can't really book our onward journey in advance and it will need to be figured out once we get to Mugrab. This is the first time I am travelling and arranging things as I go! I have learnt to chill a bit more, be less structured and 'play it by ear'.

The weather is getting warmer and warmer but we are keeping hydrated as we seem to be very thirsty here in Osh. Otherwise, we are keeping well and God has been providing us contacts along the way to help us get to our next destination. It has been a bit like that in Central Asia. As I said, we can't always plan things in advance and you typically end up buying your plane tickets 3 hours before you fly! Just enough time to catch a taxi to take you to the airport and check in on time!

We have now reached our our 1/2 way in our journey both in terms of time and distance.

Crossing Over from Kazakhstan to Kyrgzstan

[Written by Kenneth on 15 July 2009]

Our final day in Almaty we managed to meet up with Doug Boyle who founded the Teen Challenge drug rehab programme in Kazakhstan. They now have 17 rehab centers and plenty of "sheep sheds" where followers gather for worship! They don't have much but have been very influential and successful in what they do. Check this out: http://www.tckazakhstan.com.

Doug is a fearless Aussie who has suffered for the cause and has been in Kazakhstan now for 19 years with a one year commitment to the Lord every year because he wants to go back to Australia. :) He also talked about the suffering one must go through to see the Kingdom established, but the satisfaction and the grace is so sufficient. He says that in life you suffer anyway, but suffering for the Master at least you have fruit. It is starting to make more heart sense to us. Don't know whether we're there yet to embrace suffering, but we are so much more convinced that giving up all and living wholeheartedly for Him is the only way to real life.

We are so glad to be here in Bishkek (capital of Kyrgzstan) after only a 5 hour journey by bus. What we expected to be a 4 hour travail at the border crossing turned out to be only a 1/2 hour and we were the ones holding the bus up with our foreign passports! We were also well taken care of when we got to town by this really nice Kyrgz girl we met on the bus called Elmira who turned out to be an English teacher at Central Asia'sonly American university in Bishkek.

We have noticed certainly that the Kyrgz people (apart from the Caucasian Russian immigrants) look more like Mongols. We don't really stand out that much here, although there were these little kids on the bus who were very amused when they thought we were Korean.

Steph is comfortably asleep now 11:15pm Bishkek time, so I think I'll do the same before a day of exploration tomorow! So far the Central Asian people we have met, despite their embassies, have been so friendly!

Kazakhstan

[Written on 15 July 2009]

We've finally entered Central Asia starting with Kazakhstan. It is such a fascinating blend of European and Asian cultures mixed in together. The Soviet influence is very strong and so the language of commerce and business is Russian. Some young people speak very good English and they have been extremely warm and helpfulaside from being quite sophisticated and fashionable. Tourists are atill rare in Kazakhstan so people are really nice when you are a tourist!

We took the plunge and caught a tour bus at midnight to a collection of 3 alpine lakes known as Kolsay Lakes about 6 hours east of Almaty. The hikes we did out there amongst fields upon fields of buttercups and other wildflowers and alpine forests were amazing! We also made friends with a Kazakh girl called Gaukhara and her 1/2 Kazakh and 1/2 Estonian boyfriend, Erik on our first day. We ended up sharing a yurt with them. Plenty of photos of our time at Kolsay Lakes are up on our Picasa web album. Some of the older folk we met during the tour had no idea what 'Australia' is so we have settled for their understanding that we are from 'Austria'! *lol* I must clarify that they could't speak English so communication was limited.

After our tour, we met up again later in the week for dinner and drinks with Gaukhara and Erik as well as with a French friend of theirs in Almaty for a week on business. We also met up with 2 uni students and part-time models, Polina and Aiman whom we also met during our tour to Kolsay Lakes. They showed us a bit of the emerging Almaty bar scene and we ended up at a place which played fantastic Turkish live music!

I really enjoyed Kazakhstan which is nothing like in 'Borat'. Mst of all, I enjoyed sipping on my chai lattes after having not had one since leaving Melbourne. Unfortunately, soy milk has not yet arrived in Central Asia but beggars can't be choosers!

What a Riot!

[Written by Kenneth on 10 July 2009]

It is amazing, we are currently relaxing in an airconditioned Marrone Rosso cafe sipping cupaccino and eating apple strudel along a tree lined street in Almaty, Kazakhstan. Just 24+ hours before we were wondering and desperately crying out to God to help us get our passports back and organise accomodation then somehow get out of Urumqi.

The riots started on Sunday, 5th July in the evening with the Uyghur mainly disenfranchised men (but women were also involved) struck in mob style many points of the city, overturning cars (including police), breaking shops, setting fire to shops/vehicles and basically messing people. The news reports say 156 people were kiled and 800 injured in the aftermath. There has been strong undercurrents of resentment with these people for 60 years since China took over, so there was a recent flashpoint event involving an Uyghur girl raped in Guangzhou and 2 Uyghur men who were murdered when they came to her aid...apparently. They say justice was not served by the governemnt. By and large, the Muslim leaders are condemning the riots and the "ordinary" folk decrying it as well because they now have life made so much harder for them.
What was NOT reported in the news which keeps repeating and repeating is that on Tuesday, 7th July, following the riots, the Han Chinese retaliated in full view of the army and police! This was the day I was stuck out in the north of the city at the Kazakh embassy and everything just clamped down with no taxis or cars on the road. I've never feared for my safety so much as I was that day when all around me were Han Chinese (normal looking people dressed like you and I) carrying metal bars, axe handles, shovels etc all milling about the streets and some moving in large groups northward. At the same time 20+ truck loads of riot soldiers and police at a time were being deployed some with automatic rifles with bayonets fixed. The weirdest thing was to see all these armed people moving past the authorities who were meant to be there to hold the peace!

Anyway, not knowing whether to stay or go, I decided to start moving because it was simply unknown at that stage what would happen. If things flared up the whole city could be in lock down indefinitely and I would be separated from Stephanie whom I had no idea how to get in contact with (phones are are a bit funny in Urumqui and I forgot to get hotel number). So I started walking in a general direction. More than once, in the heightened atmosphere I thought I saw or heard mobs of people coming in my direction, but it turned out to simply just be groups of people walking. It was unreal seeing so many people mostly armed with weapons walking on the streets while the streets were almost devoid of vehicles and miliatary personnel blocking every street corner. By His grace, I got back to Steph after 3 hours. That night the curfew started and the helicopters started circling the city.

We stayed in on Wednesday not daring to venture out except a few meters down the road to get some food supplies, but even the Uyghur staff in the hotel were nervous. The doors of the hotel were chained and all night there were sirens and blaring horns going off. The view from our window was disturbing as everything is quiet. We wondered how to get our passports from the Kazakh embassy which was meant to be ready on Monday. Do we venture out Thursday? We had gotten a few sms messages out to our parents who contacted the Aust Embassy who called us. They gave us the number for the Kazakh embassy to call but to no avail, no answer.

On Thursday, we prayed for what to do and decided to pack up and venture to the Kazakh embassy together and if they wern't open we'd try to book into a hotel nearer that area which is more Han. As Steph and I look more Han, this was probably a "better" area but we were well treated even in the Uyghur area in the South though the stares and talking behind our backs wondering whether we were Koreans would be there. We left early, still not knowing what the situation was like on the streets. Thankfully, traffic seemed normal and we were able to catch a taxi almost immediately. The taxis are interesting. They are SO overt, the Han drivers will not pick up Uyghurs and vice versa.

We got to the Kazakh embassy and as usual there was nothing indicating what time they would open or if they would even be open. Anyway, managed to get from a guard there that they'd be open at 12pm. At 12:30 they opened and by 1pm I had gotten our passports! Originally, we were going to catch a train, but the next train to Kazakh was only on Satruday. We found out there was a ticketing office "up the road" and after walking for about an hour we eventually found it, bought our overpriced tickets, got to the airport and by 10pm Beijing time, we were in a totally different country!

Tonight we are heading out of Almaty to some mountain lakes for the weekend. It will be good to get some fresh air and beauty. I am REALLY enjoying just living in an atmosphere that is not heavy with fear and the unknown. My heart and thoughts are with the people in Urumqi who have to go through the fear every moment of everyday.

The media does not give a good picture of what is happening around and as you know there is a total internet shutdown and international phone blackout too. So there is alot of unknown these people have to deal with. Before we left, the government were threatening to shut off the gas and water if the trouble continued. Is that tomorrow, the next day? Is there a mob up the street? Are there going to be veges tomorrow? Oil? Rice? All these unknowns all breed so much fear even for believers. I am SO RELIEVED to be out of it even when were were in it for 3 days.
Steph is really enjoying Almaty which reminds her of Melbourne becaue of its tree lined streets and multicultural mix of people. She's especially looking forward to seeing the ballet apparently very good at bucket prices!

Thank you for keeping in touch and for your prayers as we journey.

36 Hours in Cattle Class

[written on 1 july 2009]

we're alive and kicking though in need of rest after hectic travel over the past few days.

on sunday night, we left xian which is in the shaanxi province (where the famous terracotta warriors are) for the westernmost and largest province in china, namely xinjiang. we are now in the capital city of xinjiang which is urumqi (incidentally this is a mongolian word and i will have to save the historical background for another time!).

we made the mistake of booking train tix only the day before our departure, not knowing that trains from xian to urumqi contain 20 large carriages and carry up to 3000 people... train tix also book out very early. consequently, all the soft sleeper and hard sleeper train carriages were sold out! even the soft seater carriages were sold out. the queues at the train station to purchase tix are ridiculously long and packed out plus pickpockets and black market ticket vendors are rife so once we got to the counter, we had to make the quick decision go with the only option available - the HARD SEATER tickets. they were absurdly cheap at 135 yuan which is $AUD25 but the moment the tix were purchased, fear gripped my hard. i'd already been on the hard sleepers in india and in china from haikou to guangzhou and already i got so tense with watching my stuff, having to chain our bags to the beds and sleeping while strangers are sleeping above, below and across from me. sometimes people talk to you, sometimes you get rough people and you try to speak in the same language back but there is always mistrust. it's pretty hard work. so being in a HARD SEATER for the longest train journey of my life so far - 36 WHOPPING HOURS - really scared me. i couldn't even really enjoy my visit to the Xian terracotta warriors later that same day because i kept thinking of what would be ahead of me the following night!

the next morning i was still thinking about it. i was trying very hard not to whinge to poor Kenneth anymore because he already said "Sorry" to me when he saw how my face fell when he agreed to purchase the tix from the woman behind the counter. i had to muster Godly strength to shop for food for the journey at the supermarket and continue preparing spiritually, emotionally, mentally.

so the time drew near. we arrived at Xian train station to catch our 9:30pm train. true enough, the station was disgustingly packed, masses upon masses of people waiting for various trains.
at boarding time, we had to walk past all the sleeper carriages and the restaurant carriage (which us 'lower class' hard seaters don't have access to). i refused to look on with envy at those carriages and kept walking and walking.... our carriage was the second last carriage. i got on... the seats actually had backs which was better than i'd expected. i'd expected a plastic bench so it is great when you have low expectations and they are pleasantly surpassed! i was a bit grouchy that first night on the train... it is squashed, it was so hot - there is no air conditioning and sometimes the little fans get switched off (i never managed to find out why...), you are not allowed to open windows (again we could not get an answer as to why), people smoke (arrrgh!), one really annoying guy kept pushing his bum into me because he wanted me to move over so he can sit as he only had a standing ticket (yes, some people have to STAND for 36 hours .... !!!), people were rough and the whole night, you cannot sleep because people constantly keep getting on and off at the village/provincial train stations and the luggage keeps getting shoved up above you or taken down. you are constantly on edge that a piece of luggage will fall on your head. the officials working on the train bellow in loud voices if they find luggage blocking the aisle, people argue, people are rough, one time when i managed to doze off i was startled when i felt rough hands sliding up and down both my arms! i opened my eyes to find a man leaning over me mumbling something... i really wanted to scream but my voice got frozen in my throat. he the shoved a piece of paper under my nose and i kept telling him i can't read chinese. i desperately looked at the guy next ti me who could speak some english and he told that guy to go away. i was quite shaken for some time. kenneth and i couldn't even get seats next to each other - we were separated by an aisle. later, after checking with the guy next to me.... i found out that that guy was asking for money and the paper said that a curse would come upon me if money is not handed over. another really annoying thing is that the officials come around and sweep and mop under your seat, making you lift up your legs every couple of hours. even if you have your eyes closed they bellow at you to wake up.... i really felt like a head of cattle.

now... here is the good bit as it wasn't all bad. the other 8 people sitting in our row and across from Kenneth and myself respectively were nice people and in the end, won our trust. they were not rough like the others on the train and they kept telling me to watch my stuff. when an officer would yell something at me, the guy i sat next to would speak on my behalf and tell him to stop yelling am me b/c i am a foreigner. these people were so kind to kenneth and myself. the guy i sat next to was only 20 years old and he is from a small village near xian. out of the little he had, he was quick to offer me a bottle of lemon tea within an hour of departure. throughout the entire train journey, he and his friend shared all their food with me and he even popped out to buy a fruit i have never seen or tasted (which is his favourite fruit in xinjiang) so i can try it. our whole row ended up "partying" and sharing food with each other, chatting and singing songs which really helped kill the time.

after the first night of terror (i was sooooooooo happy when daylight arrived at 5:30am), i was in more cheerful spirits and the second day and second night were not so scary. i think i became more accustomed to lack of personal space and there were also less standers in the carriage. i got used to passive smoking too. it was a miracle but both kenneth and i survived and i now appreciate what the poor people have to go through in order to travel. it is a world away from the soft sleeper carriage that even i found luxurious (we took this type of ticket from beijing to xian and that was only 9 hours). there were even toddlers in our carriage...and they were happily playing away the whole time. some others carrying babies had to stand the whole 36 hours... naturally there were times when they sank to a sitting position on the carriage floor until they were yelled at to get up. some people were sitting in front of the toilet and up on the sink area. it was nuts.

we FINALLY arrived in Urumqi... dazed after not sleeping for 2 days and swollen (i have now learnt that the body retains water when you are not moving for 36 hours... the numbness turns to pain after a while but the good thing is that you go to the toilet less and thus save yourself numerous messy visits to the train loo) but safe nevertheless.

i realise now that the jeep ride we hitched in Mongolia which spanned 10 hours over pot holed road was worse as it was bone jarring and my head kept hitting the roof. it was quite hellish having to sit with one bun propped up and having to prop my other bun up with a water bottle to make it kinda even. it felt safer because there weren't tonnes of people around like the train but it was more uncomfortable.

would i ever ride a hard seater again? um ... unlikely ...!

now that we're in urumqi, it is a bizarre but fascinating city. there is growing tension here between the han chinese and the muslim ugyhurs which comprise 40% of the population of xinjiang province. another strange thing about this city is that it runs on 2 time zones. families simply pick which one they prefer, namely 'beijing time' which follows the rest of china like the government has decreed or 'urumqi time' which is 2 hours behind! to balance out these 2 time zones, shops tend to open at 10am beijing time (which is 8am urumqi time), take a 2-3 hour lunch break and then close in the evening at 6pm beijing time. so if you are ever in urumqi and need to make an appoitment to meet someone, make sure you specify if you're speaking in terms of beijing time or urumqi time! the locals all do this.

The Amazing Race (around China)

[Excerpt taken from an e-mail written to 3 of my girlfriends from work on Friday, 5 June 2009]

Dear girls,

Sorry it's taken me so long to say this but better late than never... thanks for catching up over dinner at Mocha Jo's back in early May. Had a really fun time over good food and even better company!

Since that time, I spent about 5 days back in Malaysia catching up with relatives and my husband's old school mates. Malaysia is always one big gastronomic tour because the variety of food available is simply astounding! Also, coffee shops don't close till about 3am every morning and they re-open at about 5am so there is always food at practically any hour you crave for anything.

After Malaysia, we flew to China and our first stop was Hainan island down south. We only had 3 days in Hainan but it is basically marketed as the Hawaii of Asia. Most of the tourists there are local Chinese from the north who head down south for some tropical sun, surf and sand. There is now a large and emerging tourist market catering for Korean, Japanese and Russian tourists on Hainan island. We drank a lot of coconut juice and ate the two specialities of Hainan island - wengchang chicken (chicken fed on a diet of wild rice and peanuts served with rice cooked in the chicken's juices) and dongshan mutton (black wooled sheep from the mountain regions of hainan that were fed with orchids and camellias so their meat is very sweet and the dish is cooked in coconut milk - quite delicious and i don't usually eat lamb/mutton because i think sheep are too cute to eat... i know, my husband still laughs at that one!). The local beers in China are also good and cheap - some are even cheaper than water!

We then caught a train which is broken into two and then loaded onto a ferry! Nothing is impossible for the Chinese! This is how we crossed the South China Sea from Hainan island to the Chinese mainland! It was amazing to experience and watch. We met some nice businessmen on our sleeper train who were very kind to shout us yum cha when we arrived at a city called Guangzhou on the mainland. Incidentally, Guangzhou is the city where yum cha was birthed way before the Hong Kong people embraced and claimed yum cha as their own. The highlight of my time in Guangzhou was a visit to the tea market - I learnt so much about tea and will enter a blog entry about tea when I get the chance!

After Guangzhou, we flew up north to Beijing, the capital city. Unfortunately, the Chinese government has blogspot blocked in Beijing (I am not sure about the rest of the country) and even sites like youtube have been blocked for almost a year now! This is the sort of thing you get when controlled by a central communist government. All emails are monitored too by the way.

We're staying with a friend and enjoying the comforts of her apartment in Beijing at the moment. We've gotten to know Beijing really well having had so much time here and I know almost all the subway stations now (and there are heaps and heaps and heaps of them!)! We're actually already a week behind in our itinerary primarily because we have been trying to get all the 7 visas we need for Central Asia and Mongolia. It has not been easy and dealing with soviet style bureaucracy has been a very steep learning curve for us. At least we have also learnt a lot about culture and the mind sets of these former soviet and communist states. At Kazakhstan's embassy, we had to wait 3 days outside the embassy to finally reach the counter to get our visa applications processed! Once I got to the counter, the steely Russian ice queen at the counter would not process my application because one document had my Chinese name spelt as AL LI instead of of AI LI (ie. just one letter wrong). The worst thing is, this document was produced by the Kazakh Department of Foreign Affairs and she had just printed it out from their system - it wasn't even my mistake but theirs! So this gives you an idea of what we had to deal with. And this is just one embassy.... the others also had their own set of hiccups. The only smooth one was the Uzbekistan one which issued us visas in 1 hour - a real miracle! But, we have now learnt that a skirmish has broken out in Uzbekistan and its border with Kyrgyzstan is now closed! Hopefully, by next month the border will re-open as that is when we plan to head over.

But, we have also been assured that everything is in God's control and timing and travelling makes you trust God so much more. So many other things have fallen into place because we have had to stay longer in Beijing. We also waited outside the Kazakh embassy for 3 days and met another couple - a guy from Spain and a girl from Argentina who were just in front of us in the queue. We became friends through the whole experience, so much so that they have invited us to their wedding in May next year in Spain! We probably won't be able to make it but we definitely know that everything happens for a reason especially when we wake up each morning and pray for God to guide our day and order our plans for the day ahead. It is really reassuring to know we're not in this alone!

Our experience of China itself has been wonderful. Tian'anmen Square, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, the Great Wall, the Olympic Park, Bei Hai Park (it has beautiful lotus flowers and ducks in the lake and beautiful weeping willows by its banks... very pretty!) etc. have all exceeded our expectations in grandiosity. You begin to realise just how amazing and rich the Chinese civilisation and its history truly is. Beijing is ultra modern now due to the Olympics last year. Wangfujing is a big shopping district in the heart of the city and it looks like Little America in China with Louis Vuitton/Gucci/Prada/Starbucks, Haagen Das/Baskin Robbins here, there and everywhere. They still replay snippets from the Olympics on the little screens on almost every subway line. Obviously, they are still very proud of the whole event. It is charming that the Chinese have not built the new Beijing on top of the old like many other cities in the world. They have managed to preserve many of the hutong courtyards and alleyways around the city.

I must start packing for my early flight to Ulanbaatar (capital of Mongolia) tomorrow now. I am excited about the next leg of our journey and have been asked by a magazine editor i met in Malaysia to submit an article of my experience in Mongolia as she may be interested in buying it. It will be nice to do some some 'work' again that is of a fun nature!

Love,
Steph

My Mongolian Diary

These are my final few hours in Mongolia and in 4 hours, I will be back on a plane heading back to a swelteringly hot Beijing. We have spent 2 weeks in Mongolia. We spent the first week on the tourist route and so I will share my diary on tshi week in brief.

The second week was more of a personal and spiritual soujourn and so too private to blog but perhaps i may get an opportunity to share in person with any of you over a coffee someday in the not too distant future.

Kenneth and I have thoroughly enjoyed Mongolia - the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly.

Here's a rundown of our first week in Mongolia...

We have been staying at Khongor Guesthouse on Peace Avenue in the heart of UB as our base. We spent the first week joining a tour with Khongor Tours as it was the most convenient thing to do and the Khongor manager, Toroo has been very friendly, helpful and obliging. Initially, we only had 7 days to see Mongolia and Toroo and his wife recommended a tour in a westerly direction to Central Mongolia considering our timeframe and the fact we wanted to see the more lush and green landscapes as opposed to the Gobi desert which most Europeans travellers tend to opt for.

Our tour experience to Central Mongolia was wonderful despite very bumpy 2-4 hour drives across pot holed land (they weren't even proper roads!) from one destination to the next. Roughest rides I have ever had in my life but the novelty made it a fun adventure. We were very well looked after by our English speaking guide Iwho also doubled as our cook!), Hogee and our experienced driver, Jooweh. Whilst UB itself is probably the ugliest city I have ever been to with its soviet style buildings and high crime rate, Mongolia has the most vast and varied landscapes I have ever laid eyes on. Mix empty deserts, snowcapped mountains, dramatic gorges, yellow grass steppe lands and sparkling lakes and you have the Mongolian countryside!

The highlights of our time to Central Mongolia were:

- Staying with Hogee's family who happen to run a ger camp on the outskirts of Kharkhorin (the old capital), having our first taste of suutei tsai (salty milk tea) and homemade bayslag (one of a variety of cheeses which Mongolian families make). We learn how to play Mongolian games with Hogee, Hogee's niece and a friend using sheep's ankle bones. Hogee also doubled as our cook on the tour and she was fantastic. We had some Mongolian food but she would mix it up with plenty of vegies which is not part of the usual Mongolian diet. In fact, she told me that whilst most Mongolian young people can tolerate some vegies now, most older generations (including her parents) absolutely hate vegetables! The typical Mongolian diet is made up of boiled meats like mutton, beef or horse and supplemented by dairy snacks which are homemade like cheeses, butter cream and yogurt. Mongolians love eating fat. This is partly due to the fact that winters are very long and it gets down to -45 degs. Fat helps to keep them warm. For the most part, the nomadic life is very healthy - hardly anyone ever gets sick or has even seen a hospital. Whereas people in UB get sick - different diet, stress and pollution factors.

- Staying in a ger with a nomadic family at the Great White Lake. The kids are on summer holidays and I really admire the way nomadic families raise their children in many ways. They run barefoot everywhere and look so dirty but they help with everything from collecting water from the lake to catching fish for dinner and cooking to starting fires for the tourists' gers with animal dung or woodfire they have chopped to milking the yaks/cows and herding the animals whilst on horses. I learnt about separating the baby animals from their mothers each evening so that the mothers can be milked at 6am the next morning. Got to try homemade yogurt here - delicious! We also horse rode till our butts were so sore, got to experience a surreal landscape dotted with pine trees on lava filled land and hike up to a volcanoe crater. The Great White Lake itself was beautiful and actually looks white from a distance for most of the day! We had to bathe in the lake because there was no running water. It was too cold on the first day so we skipped the bath but on the 2nd day, it was a perfect 26 deg for a dip! The only down side is that there was heaps of dung everywhere and consequently it was flies galore everywhere which was rather annoying. This is also where I learn that a yak is totally different to a cow!

- Camping by a magnificent gorge. We set up camp amidst the pine trees. The river in between the gorge was so pristine and there were so many fish in there! Kenneth caught one trout and Jooweh caught another. We cooked the fishes for dinner.

- Tsenker hot springs. We stayed at a ger camp by some hot springs. The water from the springs are channeled to a rock pool and mixed in with cold water as the water from the springs themselves would be very hot. It was such an indulgence to bathe in the hot springs after having not showered for a while (due to camping). It was also so nice to use a proper toilet after days of using pit toilets (exactly like the opening scene of Slumdog Millionaire.... I had to pray each time that I would not fall into the mush below me). The area around the hot springs were also so beautiful and if you love horses, there were plenty around. The young foals would clumsily follow behind the elegant mares - a very cute sight!

- Staying with another nomadic family out in semi-desert terrain, camel riding with the 2 older sons and playing with them in sandunes - they taught us how to sand surf and wrestle in the sand! They also gave us Mongolian names b/c our real names were too difficult for them! I am Deigee and Kenneth is Mogee in Mongolia, by the way! This is where i learnt how to milk a cow and i also got to watch the father comb cashmere from the goats. The 3 boys were fantastic with fetching water daily from the well, sweeping and keeping their gers clean, milking the goats and sheep and the middle son really gave us a good show with his super fast horse riding (he happens to be a Naadam horse jockey as he is a pint sized 11 year old). This is also where we experienced a ger filled with meat hanging all around it (they eat the meat as a snack) and the family simply passed around a bucket of boiled sheep's head for dinner! There were also plastic buckets from which I tried the home made yogurt (more sour here than with the other family due to the warmer climate), milk and butter cream. In the evening, we played cards and sheeps' ankle bone games with the boys and also did some drawing and colouring with them.

Qingwen, your hair is in my mouth!

">Living in this city of 21 million leaves one with no concept of personal space especially when riding the subway. No matter what time of day it is and on which day of the week it is, the subway is always packed.

This is a picture of the subway at peak hour (about 6:00 pm on a weekday). On this particular trip, I could smell everything from the shampoo of the lady in front of me to the b.o. of the man next to me. I found it rather amusing initially and had Kenneth take a few snaps of me with my cheeks pressed against the sliding doors. But at subsequent stations, people kept piling on and on and on … we were even more squished than sardines in a can. The amazing thing is that not one person thought to themselves “There's no way I am going to fit in this carriage” and just let the train pass. The next train will only be a 5 minute wait, afterall. Where there is a will, there is a way, I guess!

I ended up practically carrying my handbag on my head and I felt like screaming “Qingwen (excuse me), your hair's in my mouth!” Not so amusing anymore. Serves me right for finding it all amusing initially when others battle this daily.

Qingwen, your hair's in my mouth!

Written on 28 May 2009 in Beijing, China

Living in this city of 21 million leaves one with no concept of personal space especially when riding the subway. No matter what time of day it is and on which day of the week it is, the subway is always packed.

This is a picture of the subway at peak hour (about 6:00 pm on a weekday). On this particular trip, I could smell everything from the shampoo of the lady in front of me to the b.o. of the man next to me. I found it rather amusing initially and had Kenneth take a few snaps of me with my cheeks pressed against the sliding doors. But at subsequent stations, people kept piling on and on and on … we were even more squished than sardines in a can. The amazing thing is that not one person thought to themselves “There's no way I am going to fit in this carriage” and just let the train pass. The next train will only be a 5 minute wait, afterall. Where there is a will, there is a way, I guess!

I ended up practically carrying my handbag on my head and I felt like screaming “Qingwen (excuse me), your hair's in my mouth!” Not so amusing anymore. Serves me right for finding it all amusing initially when others battle this daily.

Ripped off!!!

Written on 26 May 2009 in Beijing, China

This is a picture of the handbag I got ripped off on at the Silk Street Pearl Market. I needed a new bag as the old bag I brought on my travels is now giving way. The market is a great place for bargain hunters but beware … you may think you're smart but the vendors who do this day in and day out are even smarter! They even speak multiple languages – I even heard smatterings of accented Russian and Malay from vendors in this place!

You will soon realise that the market sells pearls only on one level. The remaining 5 levels or so sell everything imaginable – souvenirs, homewares, manchester, clothes, shoes, handbags, jewellery, toys, paintings, electronics, food...
This is also the place Westerners go to buy fake branded goods. There is even a big bold sign at the front of the relevant Chinese authority's guarantee of quality for the fakes. How amusing - that's China!

I ended up paying 150 yuan ($AUD 30) for this fake Dolce & Gabana bag (not that I am into the brand, I just liked the bag itself and am now wondering if there's a way to pull off the brand tag without ruining the bag ... I suffer from self-diagnosed 'Brand Embarassment Complex') bargained down from the vendor's starting price of 780 yuan! I realise now that the market value of the bag would have been 100 yuan and due to the economic crisis I could have gotten it down to perhaps 70 yuan (hmmm... perhaps I need to add superior bargaining skills in there somewhere as an added ingredient) because if I hadn't bought it, chances are it would not have been sold for a long long time!

Kenneth wanted to walk away when we offered 100 yuan and the vendor wouldn't accept. I vaguely recall hearing him say “C'mon, let's go!!” but I found myself in a hypnotised state after the vendor performed several swift sale tactics like burning the bag with a lighter and leaving it unscathed. My emotional attachment to the bag grew in that dark stall and I was overpowered. My initial resolve to spend only $AUD15 to AUD$20 waned when she started at 780 yuan. I started to think that what I was prepared to pay was totally unrealistic. After making the much to quick purchase, Kenneth spotted the exact same bag 2 stalls away and my heart sank when the starting price was placed at 150 yuan at this stall!

I was fuming on the subway when it hit me how much I'd been ripped off. Losing $AUD10 wasn't the issue. It's that horrible feeling of having been 'cheated', ripped off and outwitted! I was ranting and raving on the subway processing all that had happened to me. I knew people were looking at me but I didn't care. I'm the sort of person that needs to let it ALL out! I totally cheesed myself off when I realised I'd disappointed Kenneth by not trusting his judgment, ignoring and not listening to him. I also hadn't learnt my lesson from the time I purchased some punjabi outfits in India … it cheesed me off even more remembering that old incident … but that's another story …

Hopefully, the lesson has been well and truly learnt this time around!

Pearl's are a gal's 2nd best friend?

Written on 26 May 2009 in Beijing, China

We stunbled upon the Silk Street Pearl Market today. Most pearls in China are the freshwater variety, as the Chinese have perfected the art of cultivating pearls in mussels. Typically easier to produce that saltwater oyster pearls, freshwater pearls are often smaller and naturally less lustrous. But their abundance also means cheaper prices. The pearls come in a huge variety of shapes and colours. The freshwater variety is usually white with a slightly rosy undertone, but one can find a rainbow of hues. Greater lustre, or iridescence, typically increases the value.

Most vendors happily humour shoppers with a series of demonstrations of a pearl's authenticity – scraping it on glass to leave a mark, or nicking it with a blade to show unform colour. If making a purchase, you'd have to use your best judgment when trying to determine quality and value. A good tip is to realise that the world's best quality pearls are probably not for sale in a crowded market.

We didn't splash out as we're saving shopping for the last leg of our trip in Hong Kong. Backpacking is not conducive to shopping! However, we got a good buy purchasing 2 turquoise coloured pearl necklaces bargained down to 20 yuan for both! One is part of our 'thank you' gift to Melissa with whom we've been staying with in Beijing and the other was just Kenneth's little random gift to me because he could see how much my eyes twinkled when I held them up against my neck!