Benen
... Joined: December 1st 2006
Logged in: October 17th 2008
Logged in: October 17th 2008
Travel Blog Posts
Mundanthurai Hills
Its lashing rain - it comes off the nearby mountains, perpetual clouds hang low as far down as the hills. The rain is soaking me, obscuring my visor and creating puddles which can hide potholes or small craters in the road. The going is slow and the road is bad, I have to stand up on the pegs from time to time to balance the bike over heaps of gravel, straw, and dung. As I approach the foothills the clouds clear a little, the road climbs and starts to wind, thankfully its smooth asphalt now. The lower slopes of the hills are visible, thick dark green jungle sloping up from a plateau of vivid green paddy fields. There is birdlife everywhere, ibis, heron and stork in the waters, peacocks and pheasant in the bushes, brahminy kites, ... read more
Mahatma Ghandi National Marine Park
Thwack! The ball made an almighty sound as it connected with the bat. It didn't go very far though. The batters didn't even bother to run. The outfielders strirred listlessly in the glare of the afternoon sun. A goat sautered past the stumps. Nobody minded. At the interval (half time?, elevenses?) the commentator took out his mobile, placed it up to the microphone and played us a selection of his very best ring tones. He didn't have a Christmas one though. Nobody minded. A chicken strolled onto the field but was soon shooed off by the goat. The game re-started. The home team, Havelock Island, were getting stuffed by the visitors from Port Blair, the capital of the Andaman Islands. The bowlers changed over and the new guy, a little fella by all accounts, knocked over ... read more
Bab Boujeloud
A Christmas Tajine I stirred when the vendors started to wheel in their stalls and wares down the street below my hostel bedroom window. A little while later I fully awoke when the restaurants, cafes and shops opened for business. Stacked chairs were taken off tables and laid out, encroaching as far onto the street as the waiters thought that they could get away with. Small groups of men gathered in the street to smoke, chat and watch the beginning of a new day, a day like any other in Fez. A small caravan of donkeys passed. As I stretched and yawned something struck me; this was Christmas Day and I wasn’t suffering from a hangover. It had been some time since this had happened to me. Mulling over this strange phenomenon I shuffled for the ... read more
