That's it. Thanks for coming.
Sunday
Good Times at the Weisn
Oktoberfest hits pretty hard. Soon enough the jetlag has turned to fatigue and you feel like you've swallowed an ashtray.Getting right into the spirit of things involves half chickens, head size pretzels, roast pork knuclkes, cigars, snuff (the white stuff), tobacco snuff (the 'real' snuff) and of course 'mass' (a 'measure'/ litre of bier).
It can be challenging juggling the consumption of all these goods while standing precariously on a thin wooden bench singing and dancing to folk & popular songs in the 10,000 strong bier halls of the Weisn. Weisn refers to the daughter of the King who got married here. He invited the whole of Munchen and this was the start of Oktoberfest. What a champ.
The legal bier drinking age in Germany is 16, and these guys were well aware of that.
I didn't mention the 1/2 meter Wurst, cos you get that outside the tents, in a 25cm bun. Pictured below are the Sluthe and I, enjoying the sights and sounds of the huge Oktoberfest showground while cradling a good portion of pork sausage.
(Pat, Jaime)
There is much excitement amongst the troops at the generous servings of consumables.
One of these will set you back btwn 8 & 10 Euro, depending on if you get your change or not. ($16)
Two locals named Frame and Colons. They travelled long way from their nanny goat farm in the mountains to be here.
(Kaisa - charmer)
Pat D (excited, before he lost his wallet), JW and me
Impressive and scary appearances sometimes deceive. The "Shocker" was shocking.
Heaps more photos of course - if you want any, ask.
MÜñchëÑ - City of People
Munich, the Captal of Bavaria, is a wonderous collage of gardens, old grand stone buildings (also 'heavy'), bicylcles and gorgeous blue skies.
In contrast to the town, and Germany, of today is Dachau - the first Nazi concentration camp, built in 1933. It was a cold drizzling day we chose to wander the Role Call Yard. The wind turned the cold to ice and it was impossible to imagine, comprehend or even believe what went on here not so long ago. Very overcrowded living, torture, medical experiements, killings.
Mel, Kel and Jimmy Barnes (living in Munchen who was good enough to host us for a few evenings. And a great host he was too.) Mel and Kel wear traditional Derndals and Jim wears the Lederhosen. To the Weisn! (Oktoberfest!).
Friday
Easy Rider IV - The wheels fall off
This would be the last day on the bike, although we did not know it yet.
I'd been keeping an eye on the front whel nut which was castellated and had provision for a split pin, although no split pin was in place.
We gorged on prawn sushimi that night, with extreme wasabi and soy. Then we strolled into the Louisiana bar - a classy bar/brewery serving gourmet beer. Mossying across the marble floor we noticed a clean blue lit pool in the middle of the beer garden. Beer was four times the usual price (ie $4) at this establishment and it went down almost as easily as the pool balls were.
Bao & I engaged in a nailbiting battle on the green felt. The stakes were high - winner buys the beer, loser meets a watery grave.
Bao is an Easy Rider - jack of all trades and he's obviously spent many years studying 'The Colour of Money'. Luckily I had brought my A game and was demonstrating a Walter Lindrumesq understanding of geometry.
Bao took the 1st game by a whisker but I didn't let him have the second. So our fates rested on the last game.
I cleverly potted 3 balls off the break and maintained the solid lead on bigs until I was eyeing the black. I lined up the white between the 8 and my freshly chalked cue tip. Mildly inebriated and overly confident I decided to introduce Bao to the game of 'Arrogance' - where you look at your opponent while you knock the black into the corner pocket.
As soon as the white ball had been dusted my eyes panned left to see the black rebounding off the cushion away from the pocket. A scream of embarresment later and it was Bao's turn. He nailed 3 smalls in 3 strokes of the cue. And it was over....the black was being cradled by a net of white rope, out of view.
I endeavour to uphold my word whenever possible and I would honour the bet. Without hesitation I slipped of the shirt, dropped the dacks and descended the few steps past tables of honeymooning couples and launched my b'day suited body into the pool.
Before the splash had come down the pool was surrounded by security. A pretty young waitress leaned over the pool edge and advised that the pool was closed. A young gentlemen at a nearby table lent me a napkin and I made a graceful exit from the water, concealing my boiled shrew with said napkin, exited the bar.
Like a Ted Nugent concert the night was going Gonzo but it didn't end there. It ended half way through the second 'bucket' at a bar down the road, where it turns out Bao lost his wallet, licences etc and phone.
I'd been keeping an eye on the front whel nut which was castellated and had provision for a split pin, although no split pin was in place.
We gorged on prawn sushimi that night, with extreme wasabi and soy. Then we strolled into the Louisiana bar - a classy bar/brewery serving gourmet beer. Mossying across the marble floor we noticed a clean blue lit pool in the middle of the beer garden. Beer was four times the usual price (ie $4) at this establishment and it went down almost as easily as the pool balls were.
Bao & I engaged in a nailbiting battle on the green felt. The stakes were high - winner buys the beer, loser meets a watery grave.
Bao is an Easy Rider - jack of all trades and he's obviously spent many years studying 'The Colour of Money'. Luckily I had brought my A game and was demonstrating a Walter Lindrumesq understanding of geometry.
Bao took the 1st game by a whisker but I didn't let him have the second. So our fates rested on the last game.
I cleverly potted 3 balls off the break and maintained the solid lead on bigs until I was eyeing the black. I lined up the white between the 8 and my freshly chalked cue tip. Mildly inebriated and overly confident I decided to introduce Bao to the game of 'Arrogance' - where you look at your opponent while you knock the black into the corner pocket.
As soon as the white ball had been dusted my eyes panned left to see the black rebounding off the cushion away from the pocket. A scream of embarresment later and it was Bao's turn. He nailed 3 smalls in 3 strokes of the cue. And it was over....the black was being cradled by a net of white rope, out of view.
I endeavour to uphold my word whenever possible and I would honour the bet. Without hesitation I slipped of the shirt, dropped the dacks and descended the few steps past tables of honeymooning couples and launched my b'day suited body into the pool.
Before the splash had come down the pool was surrounded by security. A pretty young waitress leaned over the pool edge and advised that the pool was closed. A young gentlemen at a nearby table lent me a napkin and I made a graceful exit from the water, concealing my boiled shrew with said napkin, exited the bar.
Like a Ted Nugent concert the night was going Gonzo but it didn't end there. It ended half way through the second 'bucket' at a bar down the road, where it turns out Bao lost his wallet, licences etc and phone.
Easy Rider III - The King & I
So we continued to ride through the Central Highlands past pepper, corn, coffee, casava and sugarcane fields. Every 5 mins I saw a white light as we narrowly missed an oncoming bus or overtook a van that was simultaneously overtaking a truck.
I developed an exit strategy in case of collision - jump into the bush. There are these rows of little 40cm tall concrete pillars 150x150 on the roadside every now and then. If I jumped into one of those there'd be in a world of hurt.
Traded in the bad motorscooter for more traditional transportation at Lake Lac. As we plodded along I looked past the driver's body and couldn't help thinking the back of Babar's head looked like a massive set of nuts.
Visited the palace of the last King, Bao Dai, in Dalat. Inside is dated and opulent wih strong french influence and high ceilings. From the outside the palace looks like a NYC ghetto housing complex.
Took some time out to bathe in the King's mud bath in Nha Trang.
I developed an exit strategy in case of collision - jump into the bush. There are these rows of little 40cm tall concrete pillars 150x150 on the roadside every now and then. If I jumped into one of those there'd be in a world of hurt.
Traded in the bad motorscooter for more traditional transportation at Lake Lac. As we plodded along I looked past the driver's body and couldn't help thinking the back of Babar's head looked like a massive set of nuts.
Visited the palace of the last King, Bao Dai, in Dalat. Inside is dated and opulent wih strong french influence and high ceilings. From the outside the palace looks like a NYC ghetto housing complex.
Took some time out to bathe in the King's mud bath in Nha Trang.Thursday
Easy Rider II - Foods
Small stackable plastic chairs, chopticks, paper squares, chilli, soy, fish sauce, dogs running around, cats lying around, floor covered in food/paper etc. Floor may be tile, cement or dirt.
BBQ night. Wild boar, deer, goat, rabbit....
Baby porcupine washes down well with a cold Saigon beer. No seriously there are too many bones and spine follecules on the little bastards. It's not easy to eat.
This is what the back of a pig's head looks like.
BBQ night. Wild boar, deer, goat, rabbit....Baby porcupine washes down well with a cold Saigon beer. No seriously there are too many bones and spine follecules on the little bastards. It's not easy to eat.
This is what the back of a pig's head looks like.
So impressed with the array of foods that I offered to become the new face of 'Sugus! - fruit juice explosion'. It actually has all natural colour and flavour.
Easy Rider I - Uphill
Was approached by a 41 yr old crraaaazzzy man, named Bao, in Danang (a major port for the American war effort). I agreed to accompany him pillion style over the hills and far away for a 9 day journey to Saigon. So I said goodentark to Martin, and Bao and I departed Hoi An on his sparkly clean, well oiled moto. At first we ran to the hills but when the going got tough, the little 125cc machine struggled furiously. What got tough over the next week was my glutumous maximus.
We passed many ethnic minority villages, war memorials and roadside 'cafes'. Bao passed on a bit of historical trivia.
Most of their chips/snacks are seafood flavour.
(Rain drops fell on our helmets).
Children's new year in Nam. Don't be fooled by the costumes, they're only in it for the money. Like halloween I guess. I positioned 50k ($4) out of reach and the little rascals formed a human ladder to retrieve it.
Sunday
Bring Your Daughter to the Slaughter
'SOMEWHERE BACK IN TIME' World Tour 2008
Iron Maiden announce their most ambitious and extraordinary touring plans ever - and are very pleased to announce that this will include Australia for the first time in 15 years!
In an historic first, Iron Maiden, their 60-strong crew and support staff and over 12 tons of equipment will be travelling around the world en masse for the first leg of the tour in a specially commissioned and converted Astraeus Boeing 757 decorated with Maiden and Eddie designs! Vocalist Bruce Dickinson, who is a qualified Airline Captain flying for Astraeus Airlines, will pilot the plane on its epic mission, flying over 50,000 miles.
Historically, this will be Maiden's fourth Australian Tour having first toured in 1982 when 'The Number of the Beast' was Australia's number one album, then again in 1985 with the original 'Powerslave' show and most recently in 1992 with 'Fear of the Dark'. However a great deal has happened with the band since then, especially in recent years when ticket sales have continued to explode around the world as the band's loyal fan base continues to flourish.
With the ever increasing power of the internet the Maiden legend has fired the imagination of new young fans around the planet, and, although their audience spans two generations, it is now predominantly a young one, inspired by the massive legacy and influence of this unique band (and, of course, Eddie).
With the ever increasing power of the internet the Maiden legend has fired the imagination of new young fans around the planet, and, although their audience spans two generations, it is now predominantly a young one, inspired by the massive legacy and influence of this unique band (and, of course, Eddie).
TOUR DATES:*
Monday 4 February - Burswood Dome, Perth
Wednesday 6 February - Rod Laver Arena, Melbourne
Saturday 9 February - Acer Arena, Sydney
Tuesday 12 February - Brisbane Entertainment Centre
Hell of a week
Let me see... it's been a dramatic 2 weeks since i held aloft my magic sword and sung to the world from atop SEAsia's highest peak. What follows is an incredible abridged account of the last 23,040 minutes:
1. After a 5hr boat ride and 7hour bus ride up the coast of NW Borneo I was ecstatic to check into a grimy minus-3 star hotel room, in which there'd obviously been a recent flood. Two days later I climbed Mt Kinabalu.
2. Was very excited to land in *Hanoi* on Thursday two weeks ago and even more excited that the American- Keith, Englishman- Ant and I- the Jackal (met at the airport) survived the taxi to town through the chaos of motorbikes that swarm Vietnametian streets.
(Martin, Nick, Gin - Perth)
(Ha Long Bay - Nth Vietnam)
3. In a Junk, we cut through the film of diesel oil that shimmers on the green waters of Vietnam's #1 tourist destination - Ha Long Bay. Gin, Nick, Martin and I agreed on the picturesqueness of the limestone pinnacles rising out of the water. We enjoyed many G&Ts with John and Christine from the You Es A.
(Little plastic chairs spill out into the middle of an intersection. Slightly chilled beer quickly absorbs heat from the humid Hanoi air.)
4. The night life in Hanoi post midnight involves regularly being thrown into silent darkness as the publican flicks the power off on word that the cops are about to pass by. They pass, the power, tunes and good times come back......but like Chuck Norris the Publican waits.... his wiry finger poised for the next scare. Jenga is difficult to play in this environment.
(Jose, Rosa, Gin, Tonic, Keith, Martin & Chenae)
(This is the toilet door - actually no, its a photo of part of the toilet door.)
5. We were followed for two days by tribeswomen of the hills - relentlesly repeating the little english vocab they knew in hope that their handicrafts would be exchanged for $$money$$. The town and culture of Sapa is badly poisoned by hunger for tourist gold. Beautiful nonetheless. Caught the 8hr Night Train back to Hanoi - grog is cheap, ITunes speakers are loud, Pringles are still expensive.
6. A night in Hanoi without Aircon is like sleeping in a hot bath - its hot, and wet.
9. Went to see the preserved body of Ho Chi Minh.....on National Vietnam Day. It was a quick trip after we saw 1.2million Vietnemese in front of us in the line. So we went to the War Museum where they have several US planes, wreckage and bombs.
(Ho Chi Minh)
10. Martin and I tied our horses up and entered the Temple of DOOM (formerly the Temple of Literature). We ran into some old friends from the Galapogas who revealed to us the entire knowledge of Vietnam in ancient manuscripts carried on their backs.
(D&Ms with the Turtle in the heart of the Temple of Doom. The manuscript is so old it has turned to stone - petrified)
11. No wonder Spot couldn't find his mother.
12. Got to Hoi An and promptly measured up for a denim suit and shoes. Suave. When is the next ball?
(Rock n Roll)
14. The liquid/noodle diet of $1 happy hour and oily Vietnemese cuisine is really starting to hit the spot. The addition of fresh chilly to everything only excacerbates the problem.
(This brand of water - Aquafina - has a proven gut disruption effect)
15. Martin and I hired a vehicle and driver and went in search of the ruins of the ancient lost city of Hue - Vietnam's capital until 1945 in fact. Brushing away the jungle at an undisclosable latitude we uncovered a pile of uncemented brickwork and broken porcelain. With a little imagination the little characters decorating the porcelain pieces danced and sung...... one of them winked at me, I swear. Scouts honour.
There were five portals at the grand gateway to the Citadel of Hue - 1 for the King etc, 2 for the people and 2 for the elephants. The best King had 504 concubines.
16. The land of Vietnam has been home to many people and many wars over the centuries. Chinese, Indian and French influences are apparent in the temples, writing and food. In fact it was a French missionary who kick started the Vietnamese written language.
More photos to come. Thanks for tuning in. Di Toi!
Wednesday
Where Squirrels Fear to Tread
In significant detail - we returned from the longhouse, had dinner at Top Spot then I did end up catching a boat from Kuching to Sibu (5hrs), a bus to Miri (7hrs) and a plane to Kota Kinabalu (0.83hrs). It seems one man has not one destiny (see previous post).
And here begins the story proper of one man's pursuit..... of that which he was pursuing. Continue reading and you are likely to think of Jules Verne, and you'd be right to do so. But be not fooled - this adventurous, exploratory, dangerous journey into unknown mysterious lands is no fairytale. Against all odds there was one man who dared go where thousands had been before. In doing so he would see further and reach deeper into his soul than he had ever imagined.....
Allow me to introduce myself - I am Sir Col. Charles Charles Esq. Scientist, apothocast and explorer. As I sipped my tea and buttered scones one spring morning I realised these little dough dumplings did not satisfy the thirst for adventure that ran like poison in my veins. I had tried many unorthodox methods but my senses told me to stop. I could'nt stand on the beach anymore - the only cure was expedition.
I had in my time....
- dodged stampeding wilderbeast and brawling elephants in Africa,
- dipped and danced like a goanna with the Aborigine,
- ducked and crawled through the cavernous underbelly of Indonesia &
- dived to the colourful depths of the Great Barrier Reef.
Without a new expedition the poison would surely tear me apart - like swallowing a bag of needles and pins. Obviously it was time to dodge the yellow bellied black snake, pierce the clouds and climb to incredible height - to stand above the world, look down upon it and to call out "CALL ME KING OF THE MOUNTAIN".
I'd heard rumours of such a mountain on the mysterious, little explored, isle of Borneo. So I purchased and gathered the neccessary equipment and provisions and began the expedition.
~~~~~~~~\__^^__/~~~~~~~~
On first sight of the towering mountain I was confident it would drain much of the poison from my body, and probably also my soul. I felt the need to change the undergarment. The local guide (whose services I had employed to accompany me to the summit) let out a little whimper on realising what he had signed on for.
The guide, Joseph, told me the mountain was created by supreme dieties and dragons guarding treasure troves of pearl necklaces. So I named the mountain "Kinabalu", meaning 'spirit resting place'.
Using the sextant, aquired from Debbie's Porn Shoppe, I estimated the highest peak to be at 4095.2m. I named it Low Peak, giggling for quite some time at the irony. Furthermore I applied an accute knowledge of mathematics to identify 4 climatic zones through which we would climb en route to the summit: 1. rich lowland dipterocarp forest, 2. coniferous forest, 3. alpine meadow, 4. stunted summit zone.
After offering a few words of encouragement to Joseph, we took the first step towards Low Peark. We immediately commenced a steep ascent, cutting a path through the dipterocarp. Soon, by exactly 2081m we entered climatic zone #2 and were engulfed by the low lying clouds. Each of the coniferous moss covered tree trunks precipitated out of the fog as we approached........ then dissolved again as we passed.
The atmosphere was eerie...the forest mute..but we were not alone - pitcher plants of the largest size and varying variety hung silently, poised to leach life from the next inquisitive victim. Passive predators. Moisture coalesced on the yellow, white and pink petals of 1200 species of orchids, smattering the forest's limbs. And impressive boquets of rhododendron appeared infrequently.
(Joseph - Sabah)
The long hand of the pocket watch had completed two revolutions and we had stepped a mere 4kms (as measured on the Durawheel, pictured). The pressure differential across my atuned ear drums indicated we were at 2741m elevation. The tall foliage was beggining to thin. Small shrubs characteristic of the alpine meadow climatic zone abounded. Pretty toenail sized flowers bloomed from many branches.
Black eyed wrens and Grey Drongos danced silently in the sparse short bonsaique trees. The cloud had blown by momentarily and I remarked to Joseph "I can see clearly now". After catching his breath he proposed it would be a bright bright sun shiny day for our reaching the summit.
We pushed on past 2900m....30000m.............3068m........................... .... . ..3069m.. The thin air is taxing but it is also an incredible voyage for the thig and calf muscles, with not one step being at the same elveation as the last - the only way is up, baby. The effect of the altitude on Joseph was a concern. At one stage we saw a rainbow coming out of the clouds at the end of which he professed to see a pot of gold! I had to slap him on the cheek a few times before he agreed that, rather than gold, it was actually just some silly looking, unusually caring, bears with various pictures embroided on their stomachs.
Something darted across the track in front of us! We both froze. What dangerous beasts lurked in the dense undergrowth? Hearing a scampering to the right we turned to see a small hutch of squirrels playing and foraging in a twisted system of roots. It was likely that this twisted system of roots was central to their species' survival - we encountered many score more as further we climbed.
Two more revolutions of the time piece and we were at 3300m. Joseph's incapacity to carry on safely was unquestionable. I decided we would rest the afternnoon and night to allow him to recuperate and aclimatise. Reclining high on the mountain we admired the view down the steep bushy valley we had just come up.
Above we could see the vegetation end sharply and above that a granite wasteland leading to a couple of peaks - the highest being our destination - Low Peak. As the sun's rays dimmed I questioned a look of fear on Joseph's face - "Do you have a Fear of the Dark?" His reply was short but clear. "He who upsets spirits of ancestors will die by dragon's breath*". He continued to explain that a gift to the spirits was required for safe passage. A sacrifice was reccomended.
* Old jungle saying
It was a simple request to fulfill and would pass the afternoon. We ceremonially executed a squirrel using the sharpest blunt edge of the sextant (I had brought no cutting utensils). Joseph recited a traditional local prayer then I executed another nine (9) just to be sure. This site I named "Panar Laban" - meaning 'place of sacrifice' in the local dialect. After the busy afternoon we dozed to sleep.
We awoke under a full moon at 2:03am GMT. Howling in excitement we set off hoping to welcome the sun at the summit. Onwards the elevations are approximate as the sextant no longer functioned accurately. 3668m marked the edge of the vegetation and near 7kms of ascent. We were forced to scramble up and along steep faces of onion skin granite. Our heads popped up over above a crest at 3990m. Low Peak was in sight - 800m away through a smooth wide grey granite valley - like another world.
An icy wind ripped at our naked flesh as we arduosly staggered across the moonscape. Legs felt like wet tree trunks and our hearts pounded furiously like a 24cyl Diesel engine at extraordinary rpm. Joseph had to stop every 10 paces to avoid catastrophic internal combustion. I could hear his knees grinding with every purposeful step. He was in bad shape.
I offered continuos encouragement to boost his morale and help him in what was an epic mental battle. I relayed stories of my time in the Galapogos where i met an old wise tortoise who could spoke but 6 words to me - "slow and steady wins the race".
At last the tip of Low Peak was within reach. I summoned all the little energy and breath remaining and with great courage grabbed hold of Joseph's shoulder and pulled myself past that shell of a man to stand proudly aloft the Kinabalu Mountain! The sun rose in a curtain of spectacular rich orange. This was a great day. I Sir Col. Charles Charles Esq. had conquered. I looked down at the clouds, the ocean and the world and said 'hey Joseph, call me king of the mountain!"
A fresh wind blew past my lips, carrying my softly sung words down the mountain to all the lands, some near, some far far away......
So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.....
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