Burghausen

I can fall in love pretty much anywhere in Spring. This year I seem to have found Bavaria at the right time of year. It is beautiful here.
Regensburg is actually a very nice town. But it lived up to it’s name (Regen = Rain) when I visited, 2 of the 3 days it rained, so it was hard to really love it. But it didn’t matter, I had fun with my Bock. I could continue with a touching remark on the value of having good friends, but I might miss some of those in Oz, and I might appear to be sentimental. We wouldn’t want that.

So I had to go to ‘work’ in Burghausen (Castle House). It is also a very pretty place. Apparently the castle, which is quite imposingly placed on a ridge above the old town, is the longest in Europe (at around a kilometre long – but only 50m wide). I’ve managed to get enough time away from work to look around, and it seems to be idyllic here. Really. Everything seems to be so perfect that it’s almost… kind of scary.

There is an exceptionally well maintained castle, above a the Salzach river and the very pretty, and also well maintained old town. Behind the castle, where there is some flat land, is the new town of Burghausen. Which is also new, very well designed… and (surprise) well maintained. There are green community areas, with climbing equipment (with gym climbing holds), fountains, artwork, bike tracks. Old people are riding bikes where there isn’t any obvious reason for them to be there – goodness knows what they are doing, surely it’s not just for fitness?? Is it? I haven’t seen a fat person (although there are a few crazies around), but plenty thinner than I. There isn’t any graffiti. People say hulo (or grössgot or something) in the streets. There are bikes everywhere. They try to engage me in conversation when I buy something (umm, err, Ich spreche kein Deutsch? Smile, wave, feel stupid). No one wears headphones. People are well behaved. No one will cross the street until the light goes green. What kind of utopia have I stumbled upon?

Well, one that I don’t understand any of the language. Again. I keep running into that problem. Stupid Australian who speaks only English.

Of course it is spring, the trees are blooming, the birds are singing, the sun is shining. Ahhhh. Perhaps it is the season that makes me see only good things here. Perhaps it is absolutely horrible in winter, and dastardly dull. That must be it. Or perhaps you get sick of (or scared of) such a well organised community at some stage.

View Larger Map

For some lighter relief, I took a bike for a ride today, into Austria. A crappy hired city bike, through some farm land, dirt tracks, back roads and a forest, to a town I had pointed out to me on Google map. The town name is slightly amusing, and the signs at the town entrance allow one to snicker, although I found the town exit sign more amusing. No more of that allowed outside of here. A few weeks ago I was in Ibiza and missed out – I should’ve just come here.

But the ride was, as the few runs were in the last days, really nice. Everything is green, flowers are out, birds chirping. You wont be surprised to hear that, even the tiny back roads are asphalt and smooth. And on the horizon to the south, I was slightly surprised to see the Austrian Alps. They look bigger than I expected. I’ve been there before, but that was almost 20 years ago… and they are within easy riding distance if I had my gear and didn’t have to come back to work…

Perhaps I should hurry up and find some more adjectives to use to describe this place so I can move on. Everything is so nice it is sickening. I am not complaining, as a work location it certainly beats a few places I’ve been.

USA

At the same time a lot and very little has been happening to me, or being caused to happen by me. I keep being chashed out of cities by lack of (reasonably priced) accommodation. This could be seen as me failing to pan far enough ahead to get a bed (just turning up doesn’t cut it here in summer). But I haven’t been all that disappointed in being forced to move on, so far. And I’ve not ended up in the train station. Yet.

Last week I spent on Vancouver Island, slightly west of Vancouver. I stumbled upon B.C. day in Victoria (the capital of B.C.). Victoria is a lovely city, and feels like a quaint, greener Adelaide (I still claim Vancouver is the same as Brisbane in the location of Hobart, rain and all). 150 years since BC was made a province – it’s even the same age as SA… I meant to leave the city after two days to see more of the island, but full accommodation (due to the long weekend – even the campsites further north were booked out!) made me panic and book a room in the city. On Friday I was pulling my hair out in boredom, but the street parties kicked in on Saturday and kept me well and truly entertained until last night.

In fact the west coast is great. It is the closest thing to Australia I’ve seen outside my home island. All the people I met in Vancouver / Victoria mentioned they’d like to come visit, but I think they’ve pretty much seen it. Flatten the mountains, add a few beaches, grow some eucalyptus – you’d have the east coast of Australia.

I figured that since I was so close, I should come and see Seattle before working out what to do next. Special family reason, a Cousin lived here with his family a while back. It always seemed so far away, but now it is only just there! So I rocked up at the ferry and crossed into the USA. I wasn’t planning on visiting at all this trip. They’ve got my fingerprints now.

The hostel is full tonight again. But I’m learning – I’ve got a booking. But tomorrow night?…

Update: I found the local paper – the “Seattle Post-Intelligencer”. I wonder about that last word… The dictionary claims that this is a legitimate word (the spell check doesn’t agree). ‘One who conveys news or information, a spy’. Come on, I think that’s stretching the use of the suffix – regardless of the content of the paper.

Vancouver

So I got kicked out of the Calgary Youth hostel. Something about being full. Certainly nothing about me not being a youth any more. I looked around, considered my options, and ended up on a bus to Vancouver. Bye bye, Calgary.

Vancouver skyline

So Vancouver is pretty good. I was here a few hours, found all the gear shops and got a first taste of precipitation (I’ve been scared off Vancouver because it “rains all the time here” – which doesn’t seem to be strictly true). For Aussies, this is a city that to me looks like Hobart has exploded to the size of Brisbane, but is far more dense. There are two big bays around the centre core, mountains in the background and piles of people. And apartment buildings popping up like trees. There is a forest of condos.

And hostel accommodation is full here as well. Travelling in summer in Canada requires planning and forethought. Not really my cup of tea. Perhaps I should visit Europe…

13 months old

My trip turned 13 months today. Happy 1.0833 birthday to my trip. There you are, if I miss your birthday by a month or so back home – it’s nothing personal, I just don’t track anniversaries very well.

Rockies

I’ve been from Edmonton, to the edge of the Rockies through the Icefields Parkway, Jasper, Banff and now in Calgary. The mountains are, of course, great. Sorry Prairie dwellers, but mountains beat your habitat for me. I climbed up one hill (Mt Temple), in my sneakers, over the snow and ice and in a snow storm. Was quite an experience, and reminded me why I like the mountains. And was probably a little daft.

I’m supposed to be looking for a job and not blogging, so more details later. Although the weather here is supurb right now – I don’t know if I can justify sitting in an office at this time of year.

To Winnipeg

I made it. The latest challenge was to get from Toronto to Winnipeg (to visit Stu!)… hitch hiking. Would you pick this guy up?

Well someone did.

It was just over 2000km, and took 4.5 days. The drive flat out takes two long days, so I made reasonable time.

No time now. Stories later. I’m due to go down to Rachel’s good friends parents cottage for the weekend. Ah, finally a break from… well doing nothing really.

Travel anyone?

I’ve been on the road for just over 11 months. That’s not really all that long compared to some.

I’m done. For some reason randomly traveling around is just not exciting at the moment. Since I’ve been living hedonistically this last year, a few moments of normality and I’m bored.

Canada is nice, in the spring it is even beautiful (out of the cities). Unfortunately, that is part of the problem. It is nice. There is nothing challenging about backpacking here – it is simple, the only way to do the country justice is to get a car (or motorbike) and travel thousands of k’s. For a few reasons I’m not interested in that right now. I guess it would also be possible by bike. Three months of prairie don’t drive me wild with excitement right now. Maybe in the winter it would be more fun Autumn might be pretty cool though (if not downright freezing).

I’ve got a few options now: Continue overseas again (India is a possibility – on two wheels); go home and return to the real world; or work here (and while pretending to be in the real world, actually continue the escapism). Of course I’ll give working here a whirl. I tmay not sounds like it, but that could be a challenge. A few more cities, then try to find a job and live in Toronto. More than likely – who knows, almost every plan I’ve made so far on this trip has fallen through.

So it looks like the traveling “adventures” will soon be over… for a while. Let’s see how long I can handle “normality”. Whatever that is.

Toronto

Or ‘Trono’ as it is called. Very big city. Perhaps I could live here, but it loses its appeal for traveling after walking around it for several days. Luckily I know someone here; Alina, a good friend and fellow word traveller, lives here and she is helping me see the place.

It is with some relief that I have been able to stay here for a week. I feel like I have returned home in many ways. I’ve been here before. I’m talking and seeing someone I’ve known for years almost every day. I have been very lucky to have been given a place to stay. Almost everyone speaks English. I’m very firmly in the first world: the traffic runs smoothly and quietly; the streets are kept clean; everything is expensive and just works; I can use the credit card again. Apart from the funny accent, this could be Australia. So I feel like the trip has finished, and I should be getting back to some sort of productive activity (especially as the expenses have skyrocketed!)

Not so fast! There is still a chunk of country to see before I can stop.

Last weekend was the first real weekend in Spring. It was a long weekend, Monday was Victoria Day. Unfortunately it is still Spring, and Winter this year seems to be draging on (at least that is what the locals assure me). I hope they are right – surely it can’t be cold and wet all year. Whinging about (or “aboot”) the weather seems to be a national sport, and for good reason this week.

Saturday was forecast for rain, so we didn’t plan any outings, preferring to go on Sunday or Monday in the sunshine. You guessed it, Saturday was fine, the others not. So, of all things, we went shopping on Saturday. Well, I needed a new camera anyway so the effort wasn’t entirely wasted. Sunday started well but deteriorated into a movie session with one of Alina’s friends – who turned out to be an IronMan/Woman (how do you describe a female who has completed an IronMan?), marathon runner, and similarly all round sporty type. So we had something to talk about

With only one day left in the weekend, we took the risk and Alina drove me to Penetanguishene, a town just north of Toronto. It rained on the way there, and the sky was cloudy. But it cleared when we arrived, and I was treated to a Spring walk in the woods. Pity I didn’t have a camera, the woods are spectacular in the Spring. I imagine it would be nice in all seasons actually – there are lots of trees, and one of the great lakes is right there, both of which are covered in snow and ice over winter. The stories of cross country skiing to work and then in the forest or on the (frozen) lake by moonlight after work made me slightly jealous. Ok, more than slightly. If I’m around here in winter, I’ve picked my sport. Except I don’t expect such a good cover of snow in the city.

And I have got a new camera. So here is a photo from around the place that I am staying, well within walking distance of downtown Toronto (a city of 5 million people, another million on Sydney). I’m pretty lucky to be able to sleep in this area. Nice, eh?

There are lots of flowers out: Violets, Lilacs (not only in the colour Lilac so I’m told), Lilly of the Valley, along with flowering trees: Cherry, Crab apple, Almond. Alina has been attempting to teach me some botany. I’m just showing off. Everything looks so different to my last visit (that time there was snow about).

Next stop: Ottawa. Just up the train line. Heading east for a short trip. I would like to take a bike, but Canada is BIG and I don’t know that I want to spend the time in the saddle again, so soon.

 

Canada

Well, I’m here. Spring is definitely here also. Thank goodness. Although it did (briefly) rain on me yesterday. I’ve got a few days planned in Toronto, and then I have to work out for sure whether I go east or west. At the moment starting east seems a good plan.

The bike!

Is gone. I wasn’t actively trying to sell it, but someone in the hostel heard it had to go and he wanted it. So, after 14,000km it’s not in the best shape (actually, I described it as a wreck when he said he might want it), but it should be ok to bash around the city for a while yet.

I had owned it for 274 days. That is the shortest time I’ve ever owned, and ridden to death, a bike (and averages at over 50km per day!).

Bye, bye, trusty steed.

Time waster

I’m here to waste some time. But, I´ve discovered something. Wasting time doesn’t (any more) make me mad, having someone else waste my time for me, well, that attracts my ire.

I tried to sent a packet home from Buenos Aires. I walked to the central post office, thinking that this might be most efficient. I took a number and sat down. 1 hour later… (this part suffers from the fishermans’ story syndrome – the first time I told it is was 30mins, and since I don’t wear a watch, it could easily have been an hour). I was finally served and told that to send a cd of photos (and a lovely mothers day letter to mum) I would need to complete a customs form, and this would need me to produce my passport. The passport that is accross town in the hostel. I knew this to be rubbish, having sent plenty of parcels and not needing my passport once in Argentina. I tried to explain this. They didn’t budge. The prospect of a long walk followed by another long walk back and another long wait for no good reason got me reasonably fired up, but I left without sending the parcel. I think they understood I wasn’t impressed.

There is another post office, not 50m from the hostel, who took the packet with barely a question (certainly no passport required) and I went back to a more profitable time waster of reading. The James Bond books, if you are interested. Now that is really wasting time.

Iguazu Falls

Since leaving Buenos Aires, the twin main objectives have been to waste some time until the Canadian weather gets its act together and realises than it’s time to be warm. And visit the Iguazu falls.

One objective is complete. The falls are well worth such a huge detour. Since we had come so far to see these falls, we visited both sides, one side being in Brazil and the other in Argentina.

I must admit to being slightly underwhelmed at the start of the view in Brazil. We’d just had a (verbal) fight (in ‘Russian’ or Portuguese, could be either) with the Brazilian guards about having to pay for the bus service in to the park even though not using the bus. [It's not possible to enter without buying a bus ticket as well, don't waste your time trying.] The walkway / viewpoints in Brazil at first only allow you to see some of the waterfalls on the Argentinian side (across the river). They are impressive, but worth several thousand kms? Not really.

Not until later do you see the Garganta del Diablo (Devil’s throat) with is a U shaped thundering wall of excitement. And then, suddenly, it is worth the visit (if you can see anything through the spray). On the Brazilian side, there is a walkway on which you can stand in the spray of the falls, and have falls almost all around you. It is huge! But this is all I liked about the Brazilian side – I prefered the Argentinian side. Lots of walkways. Lots of view points. Lots of places for Stefan to take photos (>200!). Many smaller falls (less water, same drop) amongst the trees.

On top of the Garganta del Diablo you can hardly hear yourself think. A phenominal amount of water pours over the falls, and sprays all over the place in a thourougly frivolous way. A wall of white noise. I tried to encourage a boat race over the edge – bit of a waste of time, you can’t see through the spray for about half the height of the falls. How would you know who won?

After a while of watching all that water it seems a little irresponsible to lose all that energy, and not, maybe do something useful, like turn it into electricity (spot the engineer…). Luckily just up the Paraná river (maybe 30km away) is Itaipu hydroelectric station that generates a lazy 14GW. The biggest hydro plant in the world, generating essentially all of Paraguays electricity and 20% of Brazils. We went there to have a look, but they wanted to shunt us into a bus and charge us to look at the dam wall. Not go inside the generating hall or anything exciting, just look at the outside of the concrete dam. Do I look so stupid? We looked from the road – it looks like a big dam(n) wall.

The Iguasu falls looks much bigger than Niagra (turns out it is), but maybe I’ll have to just have another look at Niagra in a week or so. And then see Victoria Falls. Could be a bit harder to get to Victoria falls though… Does this mean there is another trip to Africa coming up? Hmmm.

And a bird we saw at the falls for Kev and Steve. Sorry, no idea what this guy is called.

Let’s just say it’s Bluey from Argentina.

I wonder if Sea to Summit would like to use this one – the butterfly was a bit crazy, it was trying to lick the dry bag. I guess it is a similar colour to it’s favourite meal. I’d never seen a butterfly’s tongue before. I don’t know why I would have, but I felt I should have.

Toronto is expecting mid-teens for a few days. Warm enough to visit? I guess it will have to do. Maybe a bit better in a week. Still working on the second objective.

Brazil-Paraguay-Brazil

Brazil has been an amusing interlude. Possibly more amusing for the locals – I still cannot speak a sentence in Portuguese. I still call it “Russian”. If they speak too fast to me, I reply with “Russian russianrussianrussian”. Honestly, some of the sounds are more Russian than Spanish. Stupid Australian – still only speaks English.

From Morretes we climbed up into the metropolis of Curitiba via a back road. It rained the day we went anyway, so the cobblestones were wet and slippery. There were only two maniac drivers that tried to skid off the road, the rest were more sedate. But the scenery was pretty good – possibly amazing without fog. Lots of rain forest. Too wet for many photos. Stefan and Sabine hit 10,000km. Well done… 10,000km more to go Sabine!

With barely a pause in Curtiba (ok, a few hours stop) the three of us jumped on a bus to Foz do Iguaçu at the border of Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina. A long bus ride and a day later we were still in overcast conditions. So we did the only rational thing – find a place to sleep and wait for the rain to go away. It did.

So the next day we went bargain hunting in Paraguay. The weather wasn’t nearly nice enough to go and visit the falls. The oddest thing about this day (apart from the utter chaos of Ciudad del Este in Paraguay) was the border controls. From Brazil to Paraguay there was exactly zero control. That was a bit odd, but it meant I could enter, take a look around, tick Paraguay (otherwise a big hole in the middle of the continent I hadn’t set foot in) and not need to worry about a new visa or the return to Brazil. Whew. Lucky.

Ciudad del Este was chaotic, and Stefan and I ran out of steam and patience before hunting down a bargain. I probably should have been looking for a camera. Eh. Canada is fast approaching. I think they have them there as well.

The border crossing into Argentina began as simply as the one in to Paraguay – we had to go and ask for an exit stamp from Brazil. Normally you could just exit without hindrance. The Argentinian side looked more like normal, with a propper border control. The catch phrase of the day was “Everything is better in Argentina”. This was backed up by the cost and quality of accommodation, the food, the wine, the language (I can understand something again!), pretty much everything. Although after a day of consideration, the consensus was “everything is better in Argentina, except for the breakfast, fruits and beach chicas”. You can’t have expect one place to have everything.

So in a spirit of inquiry, after a strenuous ride of 13km and a border crossing, we tried the Puerto Iguasu offerings. A kilo of Bife de Lomo (fillet steak) and sides, for three. Almost as good as out west in Argentina. Everything is better here. Life could be so hard. I’m really starting to put weight on. Not to worry: I’m sure I’ll lose it in Canada again.

Morretes, Brazil

This place is strange. We had beautiful weather for 8 straight days, and now, when we want to get back on the bike and do some riding, it rains all night and most of the day. A repeat performance of Matinhos. Except we have learnt from that experience (a week ago), and are just staying put until the rain stops. In the internet café, wasting time. YouTubing it up.

Whats that I hear you say? It’s only rain? Correct, and I don’t care. Being soaked all day isn’t much fun, and the road we are planning to take is cobblestones most of the way. Slippery when wet. Plus, this should be a road of good views – no point going there in ‘pea soup’ fog.

Ilha do Mel

Could be translated (incorrectly) as the Island of Honey. It doesn’t really matter. I spend a week of this:

Not a drop of rain (well, some overnight, but didn’t affect us). Some good fish. Plenty of doing nothing. 3 books in 2 days.

Hope you enjoyed your week

(Thanks Stefan and Sabine for the photos!)

Brazil. Rain?

What’s going on here. It is not meant to rain on the coast of Brazil. Especially not when I’m here on hoiday.

Today I1m entrenched in an internet café. The bike is loaded and waiting outside ready to go when the rain stops. I wouldn’t mind a light sprinkle, but it’s coming down in buckets. The road is now flooded, but I don’t want to spend another day in this town (Matinhos). There is nothing to see; it is practically deserted. Think of the Gold Coast (4-5 story apartment style beach houses and pretty much no-one around). Not really all that exctiting.

Maybe it will stop raining soon. Maybe not.

+1hr. The water is now above the top of the gutter. Surely this can’t continue…
+1/2hr more. I can’t see the gutter any more. Where does all this water come from?
There’s a new river forming! I hope it doesn’t carry away my bike!

Portuguese

It’s hot here. The hills have begun, and everyone seems to be speaking Russian. At least they may as well be speaking Russian, Greek or even Chinese.

I cannot speak Spanish, but I can get by (present tense only, nothing too complex). I’d love to know more, and I will learn more. However, it turns out that a smattering of Spanish isn’t going to be enough in Brazil. Portuguese is impossible! Jessica, how do you do it? And why does it sound like Russian to me?

Brazil!

Ok, I cheated again. But I figure the ‘pure’ bike trip is over and now I’m doing my best to enjoy myself until it warms up in Canada. Today they’re going for 12°C, so it’s getting there. Still a a way to go.

I finished my ride across Uruguay. Punta del Diablo did hold me captive for one more day. Kind of funny, I don’t normally like just relaxing by the beach, but it’s so nice there, and it was kind of novel talking ‘Oz’ again. I couldn’t help it.

The border posed a small problem: I arrived at the consulate (to get my visa) 30 mins too late, at 1pm. This meant I had to overnight in Chuy. Not the highlight of the trip, but there have been worse towns. Other than that, and the fee for the visa, everything went smoothly (definitely not whinging about the visa – I’m still outraged about Australia’s visa requirements).

Stefan and Sabine have been camped out here in Campeche (near Florianopolis) for a week. So I jumped on a couple of buses and came up to meet them. Another chilled out beach spot. Stefan has been taking surfing lessons, Sabine and I bashed about a volleyball for a while. We sat on the sand. Cooked up a 1.5kg fish for dinner. Found out we could do with more, so added some prawns. Kind of hard work.

We will head for a different, possibly equally idyllic, beach tomorrow. Maybe with more surf. Perhaps I’ll take a crack at surfing again (Lessons? Who needs lessons? ).

And I want to go back to work?

Coast of Uruguay

I knew there would be large distances after Montevideo, and possibly not much to see. There was and wasn’t, respectively. So I put in some big days and shot across the country, day one to just past Punta del Este, and day two to Punta del Diablo (Devils Point). Big is between 150 and 180km per day. See the map.

Some of the riding was along the coast, party through eucalyptus plantations (it is great to see my trees!), but mostly past dairy farms. So lovely and blue, woody, or green. Really it is pleasant countryside, but not overly exciting for a cyclist. It would have been heaven on a motorbike. The tarmac is very good here. Several bikes screamed past during the day (as well as plenty of mopeds puttering along). I wished one of them would let me hang on.

The weather has been exceptional. I took a day off cycling in Punta del Diablo, but I might just take another. Apparently this is the off season by the coast (thank goodness, I hate crowded coastal towns). It’s great here! Blue sky, not a cloud in the sky. The sea is warm; there is even a bit of surf. Air temperature up around 30°C. The hostel is pretty good too. Enough different people – I’ve met some other aussies for a change. If Brazil turn me around at the border, I think I’ve found somewhere to kill some time, err, profitably occupy myself.

I can’t show any photos (no camera), but I can offer a different sense of the place. The prevailing sound is the crash of the waves (or music after dark); the water is warm and the sand and water full of shell grit (it gets everywhere!), the sun on your back feels great. The clean smell of the sea is welcome down at the beach, and there is a strong, lingering sickly sweet (not tobacco) smell after dark. It is touristy, but more of a chilled out beach place. Lots of foreigners – I was expecting more Uruguayans.

Australian Visa?

Perhaps I am out of touch with how the world is, or should be, run. Perhaps I am ignorant with the plight of many. But I don’t see why every single person that wants to come and have a look at Australia needs to apply for a visa. You want to stay longer? Look out! Why are we so paranoid? Even the US will let me in without a visa, and I thought they had the most draconian entry requirements in the world. I’m shocked to find it is actually my homeland that is worse that what I thought was the worst.

Take a look for yourself on the “how to apply” website. Now imaging that English isn’t your first language (like the majority of the population on the planet). The online aplication site has recently been the target of Trojan horse virus, that may skim your credit card details. There is a warning when you start to apply for a visa. Are you kidding? Australia, what happened?