I was recently fortunate enough to get some free time from yelling at kids and doing work to spend some time in the amazing country of Spain. I started my time in Madrid, the capital of the country. Madrid is an incredible city and the amount of shit that I learned while I was here was a great way to kick start the trip!
City Facts
Madrid was founded by the Muslims and was named “Magerit”, meaning “place of water”.
The citadel walls were originally made of flintstone so that when weapons hit the wall it would spark. Thus making it the city ‘build on water with walls of fire’.
Food and Drink
We can all thank the poor drunks of Spain for the glorious invention of Tapas. It turns out that when faced with the awkward decision of either ‘eating’ or ‘drinking’ with not enough money to do both, the people of Spain chose to drink. This of course was not great for productivity in the workforce and as such King Alphonse (the 10th I think…) passed a law stating that a small snack should be served with each beverage. This law is still in place in Granada and I spent most of my time there drunk. I was embracing the life of the poor commoner you see and when faced with the option of 3 euro bocadillo or 2.50 euro wine with free tapas, the poor person in me chose the wine!
Mmmm…. sangria and croquettes
The name ‘tapas’ did not arrive on the scene until Alphonse the 13th. Apparently whilst sitting in a windy bar, with dirt blowing all over the place the server at the bar was so stressed about dirt getting in his drink he placed a piece of ham over the king’s drink. When the king asked what this was, the server in a panic responded that it was a ‘tapar’ which translates to ‘a cover’. And now we have tapas everywhere! Hooray!
During the Spanish Inquisition where they were killing all of the Muslims and Jews, they would carry ham around in their pockets and hang ham in their doorways to show that they were in fact “Christian”.
The oldest restaurant in the world is in Madrid. It is called the Botin and was actually opened by a French person. Hemmingway apparently ate here. Another restaurant in Madrid’s claim to fame is that “Hemmingway didn’t eat here”. Total get around he was!
The oldest restaurant in the world
Royal Tidbits
Carlos the Second (who apparently came at the end of the “Carlos Felipe sandwich” via which there was King Carlos, then Felipe, then Felipe, then Felipe, then Carlos 2nd) anyway, he was apparently so deformed from the incestuous nature of the royal family that he had a special member of staff that was assigned to chew his food and put it in his mouth for him… just like a mama bird.
Speaking of Felipe’s, the Philippines was named after King Felipe the second of Spain. It was previously a Portuguese territory until Felipe the second conquered Portugal.
Felipe the fourth thought so highly of himself he commissioned a statue of himself on a horse. The catch is that unlike any other statue of a man on a horse at the time he wanted the horse to be only on it’s hind two legs and rearing in the front. There were of course issues with the weight distribution of the horse as it kept snapping off at the legs due to ridiculously unstable weight distribution. They managed to solve this debacle by employing the amazing Galileo… who of course suggested making the hind legs solid and the rest of the statue hollow. Genius. Anyway, after it was finished Felipe was still not happy as the statue looked nothing like him. So they cut the head off and added another one in for good measure.
Felipe the fourth on his two legged horse despite not being killed in battle
The position of the legs on a horse for a statue of a person posthumously indicates how they died. All four legs on the ground means they didn’t die in battle. One leg off the ground means that they were injured in battle and died from later injuries. Two legs off the ground means that they died in battle.
Alrighty then…. a whole bunch of interesting history stuff. I promise that next week when I get to the next instalment I will hit you guys with more of the funny shit I learned in Spain! Til then, adios! 🙂
My time in Hamburg was fleeting. I literally arrived off the overnight bus from Copenhagen, had a nap in the hotel lobby and then went on a walking tour. That is where I learned most of my shit in Hamburg. The rest of the shit I learned on a drunken night out with my new friends from in the dorm room…..
The first law that was passed in the constitution for the City of Hamburg is that it is illegal to burn down the town hall. This was after the Vikings did it more times than one can count to get back at the town folk and establish their awesomeness.
The organ in the crypt at St Jacobi’s church was played by Bach. During the second world war, the whole entire organ was disabled and put in the church basement to try and prevent damage to it. While the rest of the building was bombed to smitherines and everything else inside destroyed, the organ surprisingly survived under the ground and was eventually reconstructed.
The organ at the St. Jacobi’s Church that was played by Bach!
As we have discovered in our travels of Central America earlier, the same word for calling an inanimate object hot, ‘caliente’, when used to refer to oneself also means ‘horny’. This same issue also arises in German when a person uses the word for ‘cool’. It also means ‘horny’ in German…. I can’t remember what exactly that word is….
I would rather walk outside of the door of a church where they are asking for money in their donation box, tell them no, and then hand the money to a homeless guy. The church is rich enough as it is.
A metal sculpture sitting on a pile of bricks weeping over the tragic loss of lives during the destruction of buildings in Hamburg during WW2
The great fire started in a cigar factory. Unfortunately, there was an alcohol store next door to this. Even more unfortunate was that the alcohol shop owner was stupid. In a panic that his shop would be destroyed, he started pouring out all of the alcohol out of his shop window into the river. The river that was barely running because there wasn’t a great deal of water in it. When the fire trucks arrived and started pumping water out of the river to wet down all of the adjacent buildings so that they wouldn’t catch fire as easy, the opposite effect was observed. The entire row of buildings went up in flames as they had just been doused in alcohol. Good times all round….
The Beatles have a record shaped place called the Beatles Platz with artistic statues in the Reeperbahn. I learned later in the evening that the Reeperbahn is pretty much the ‘red light district’ of Hamburg. I had a very interesting night out here where I learned that DJ’s are incapable of finishing a song past the 1st chorus, that pizza is very awesome, and that hangovers are horrible on planes.
The Beatles jamming at the Beatles Platz in the Reeperbahn
Not a great deal learned, but I guess it is quite a bit for the 24 hours that I was there. I definitely think I will be needing to spend some more time navigating German cities 🙂
So I decided to go to Denmark in search of a prince to marry like my fellow Tasmanian, Princess Mary. While I did not manage to find a prince, I did however manage to learn quite a lot of shit…..
We shall start with Shit That I Did Not Know Was Danish….
Lego – Now apparently the largest selling toy company in the world (they are ecstatic to be beating Barbie), Lego started right in Denmark in the 1920’s and still uses the same structure for their blocks. A block made 80 years ago will still fit a block today.
A whole display made of Lego! Glorious Lego!
Pandora Bracelets – I am so glad that I didn’t know this to tell my Mum before I left!!
The Little Mermaid – This is a fairytale written by the famous writer Hans Christian Anderson and yet I didn’t realize. There is a Little Mermaid statue in the harbour of Copenhagen and it is ridiculously underwhelming…. well until you take the boat tour and they inform you that the mermaid statue has had its’ head decapitated twice and it had to get recast.
The most hyped-up and underwhelming statue in all of Europe, “The Little Mermaid”.
Aqua – Hooray! We can thank the Danes for that horrific song “Barbie Girl” that rang out in the 90’s and made everyone’s head hurt.
Awesome Danish People
Niels Bohr – For any fellow science nerds out there you shall also share my excitement! Known for his quantum model of the atom known as the Bohr atom, he postulated that electrons can move through energy levels of a set quantity in an atom. For those of you who are not science nerds, know that this is kick arse. When the German’s decided to create atrocities against the Jews in World War 2, it was Niels Bohr who negotiated with the Swedish government to immigrate 90 percent of Danish Jews in the city to Sweden in return for him agreeing to go to the United States and work with Albert Einstein on the Manhattan Project. This is basically the race to see who can make the atomic bomb the fastest. Anyway, not only is he a quantum physics and Nobel Prize winning genius, he is a pretty fucking awesome Danish guy!
The canals of Copenhagen
Danish People in World War 2 – Speaking of World War 2 and the Jews, the Danes showed a lot of compassion towards their Jewish population. During the war, the Red Cross would send care packages to all of the Danish occupants of the concentration camps courtesy of the Danish Government worth up to 2 million dollars. These care packages, despite being raided by the camp control, managed to keep majority of the Danes alive. At the end of the war, the government sent a whole bunch of white buses to collect their citizens and bring them home. Upon arrival home, most of the prisoners discovered that their fellow countrymen had kept all of their affairs in order for them and when they came home, they came home to lives that resembled what they had left behind. I was moved by how considerate these people are of each other.
Queen Margaret the Second – Tell me any other queen in the world that is cool enough to help provide the Danish translation of the Lord of the Rings and to provide all of the illustrations for it? Enough said!
Amalienborg Palace – where the current Queen Margaret lives and where the future queen and my probable relative Crown Princess Mary lives.
Hans Christian Anderson – Once upon a time there was a small boy who moved to Copenhagen at the age of 14 and tried his hand at the national ballet. After being terrible and them ousting him, he then tried his hand at the choir. He was also terrible at that and kicked out of the choir too. He then tried his hand at the theatre and was absolutely fabulous… well for a while anyway. While he was working at the theatre he became renowned for his incredible stories. And so he wrote a few of them down and they became published and after many, many years, Disney decided to make movies about his stories like “The Little Mermaid”, “Frozen” and “The Emperor’s New Clothes”. He became very famous and lived happily ever after, the end.
Just chillin’ with Hans 🙂
Other interesting facts
“Hygge” is a fabulous word, and while it has not direct translation to English, anything that can be thought of as being a good time can be ‘hygge’.
The Danish revolution happened in a pub…. apparently.
Buildings in some parts of the city don’t have square corners. They are cut at an angle to allow fire trucks to be able to adequately turn around corners and so that fire hoses didn’t kink and stop working after the God-knows how many-th fire they had in Denmark.
The Danish Government just passed a be able to take any valuables off immigrants settling into Denmark to help pay for their stay in the welfare state….. shame on you Denmark!
Christiania is the only self contained community that regulates themselves with their rules. They consider themselves an entity outside of the EU. In the Green Light District (where a shit ton of marijuana is sold) they profit over a million dollars a year. Not bad for a place that was created by homeless people and junkies breaking in and settling in abandoned buildings of the army barracks.
The gates of Christiania, where no photography and a shit load of weed is allowed.
Woden is the English name for the Norse god, Odin. It is his name that gives rise to the day of the week known as Wednesday. Thor’s name gave rise to Thursday. And the goddess of fertility Freya gave her name to Friday.
Oh and I also learned that Denmark is fucking cold and one needs to take thermals. Other than that, that is me for the week! Until the next!
You can always tell the measure of a good place and the people you meet within it by the amount of shit you learn. I learned quite a lot of shit during my weekend in Cologne so here we go….
When I arrived in Cologne I figured that I would be able to get around most of the sights in the space of the day so I would take a day out on Sunday and go shopping….. but no.
Cologne’s shops and supermarkets are all completely closed on Sunday. This means that I had to do my shopping on Saturday instead and do all my food shopping for Sunday the day before as well
Whilst taking my Saturday out to shop, I learned a few other interesting things:
German’s appear to have no idea what the English lyrics to the songs they are playing in their clothing stores at 2pm in the afternoon actually mean. It is here I find myself standing next to a 9 year old listening to a rap musician sing about ‘how dis nigga is gonna slam dunk some motherfucking pussy….?!?!’ I am both horrified and slightly amused at this. I later found out that my new German friend got told off when she was about 14 because the first song that she ever learned in English was about ‘sucking dicks’ and was found singing it very loudly in public when her mother had to stop her and explain. And I thought all German’s had pretty good English… well they do except for the vulgar and inappropriate.
Another hilarious example of German inappropriacy 🙂
It doesn’t matter how many Primark stores I visit, or in which country that the Primark is in, the people who shop in Primark all totally shit me to tears. (For those not familiar with Australian slang… they annoy me very, very much.
I have an obsession with shopping for earrings and underwear. 7 pairs of earrings purchased in one day… we won’t discuss my penchant for underwear.
The famous Dom Cathedral
I was also fortunate enough to learn that a blast from my past (a friend from my old school days of working at KFC when I was 15 now actually lives in Cologne with his girlfriend. We met up and went out with some others from the hostel. While the rest of us stared at him like he was nuts, my friend told us about this game in a bar where you sit around a circular tree stump and take turns at hammering a nail into the wood with the small end of the hammer. We went. We played. I learned that this is awesome and I want one in my backyard! I also learned that while in Australia, we do our best to remove all kinds of weapons from bars, including glass bottles. In Germany, all you need to do is give the bar a twenty Euro deposit and they will give you a hammer…..
The nail hammering game at the pub of unknown location because I was too drunk to remember how we got there.
The Sunday we got up and went on the walking tour around the city in the snow. Walking tours are always full of learning and this one was no exception.
Given that the Dom (the most impressive Cathedral in Cologne, and that I have ever seen) was built by those from Dusseldorf, and that those from Cologne and Dusseldorf hate each other, that when the city hall was build, they decided to make a salute to the Dom…. In the form of including statues baring their naked arses oriented in the direction of the Dom. One of them even looks like it is giving itself fellatio. Hmmm…. what a way to say fuck you!
A moon to the Dom. And if you look super close you can see he’s nearly able to get a tooth on it 😉
Speaking of phallic symbols, some random artist guy decided that to give his seal of approval to art galleries around town that he would randomly paint bananas alongside the art galleries doors. This caused huge outrage (of course) and then people started painting their own bananas. Which aren’t the original bananas, so this is stealing. Of all the questions though, there is this…. why bananas? Well apparently the banana is like life….. nothing about it is straight.
Cologne is from cologne. Yeah I probably should have figured this one out already but I never actually took the time to properly process and think about that one.
The building that was home to the famous 4711 cologne.
There is a gold painted Ford Fiesta on the roof of a building…..
A gold Ford on a building??
The lock selling industry here in Cologne must be out of this world considering how many people have locked their hearts to someone else on the bridge. Wonder how many regret that now?
A small portion of the massive locked up bridge across the Rhine River.
Mostly what I learned in Cologne is that it is really great to catch up and reminisce with old friends. I also learned that sometimes life will massively surprise you and send you exactly what you need, especially in times when you feel like you are in a drab routine you can’t get out of. Anyway, the next adventure is up and coming in a couple of weeks! I shall let you know what I learn on that one! Til now, happy learning!
I was a fortunate enough lady to get 16 whole days off from teaching the herds of feral animals at school and to embark on a trip to The Netherlands and Belgium. The best thing about this is that my friend who I met this time last year in a hostel in Bali invited me to stay with her in Utrecht for a bit and to also spend Christmas eve night with her family for dinner. Not only did I learn from this that I am a luck lady for having such great people in my life, I learned a few other classic Danni things…. here are just a few from the Netherlands! Belgium is a whole other story and will just have to come a bit later…
Knuffelen…. The best word to use to pick up the Dutch folk. It means “cuddles?”
My first dutch “knuffelen” from the lovely Bola!
When visiting a peep show in the Red Light District, one should not give a running commentary… So here I am on a walking tour alone getting sent in to see a peep show. I join a box with a Chinese girl I’ve just met. I didn’t even manage to catch her name before we’re thrown in. Her first comment is “wow that guy has a really ugly, bald head…” OK. This is an acceptable comment… kinda… My first comment was “Wow she clearly isn’t enjoying that! Dry as fuck! Like rubbing sandpaper on your vagina! Send in the lube brigade!!” The guy clearly hears me as he stares right and me and then pulls back her legs to give me a better view. “Yep. I was right! No glistening rays of sunshine there… dry as fuck! This is boring! I’m outta here….”. Sometimes I need to close my mouth and just leave it that way… especially in the Red Light District hahahaha (ba boom ching… double funny).
Wijn actually means “wine”… too easy!
Dutch Tinder is way more entertaining than English Tinder… senses of humour are rampant. I met a guy who both studies AND possesses genetics. What a catch!
More amazing food at the pre Christmas Markets in Den Bosch.
Van Gogh painted hundreds of paintings that are just exceptional. It is a shame that he lost his mind and couldn’t cope with staying on earth any longer to grace us with more of his magnificence.
When one engages in eating about 6 oliebollen (Dutch round fried donut with raisins) a day, one will get fat. No doubt about it all. I’ve tried and tested this theory avidly.
On the topic of food, they invented my perfect dessert… they call it a “Bossche bollen”. It is basically a giant ball of whipped cream with as little pastry as possible encasing it and then they roll it in chocolate for good measure. It’s almost as good as eating whipped cream from the can and way more socially acceptable.
Dutch clothing shops are cool and next time I should bring less in my bag if I don’t want to wind up stuffing half of my belongings in my already tight pants from eating too much shit….
Oh and flirting with train inspectors will get you out of a fine. Especially when you explain to them that you have no idea whether the ticket worked or not because you don’t read or speak Dutch. “I’m Australian… (Te he he, hair flick…) “please help me! I don’t know what I am doing! Knuffelen?! :)” That said I don’t know whether this is what my friend Helen had in mind for “Servitude September” which I clearly didn’t do because… well ok, just because…. (stay tuned for my second attempt), but I will try pass it off anyway.
Well that is it for the new year! Catch you all next week!
For the longest of times I have wanted to go to Calgary Stampede. 4 years ago I ran out of money and had to stop and get a job. 2 years ago I didn’t get my relocate a car in time to get to Calgary from Toronto. But this year I arrived a month early, scored myself a job at the Stampede on the Bell Adrenaline Ranch station and a free pass daily to go with it. Even better, I also scored a job managing the backpackers hostel right over the road from the Stampede Grounds. And so the 12 days of ridiculousness was to begin.
I took one for the team over the first weekend working the night shift at the hostel on the Friday and Saturday night. The Sunday however was to be my first experience of Stampede.
At 6:30am my friend and I awoke to go to Stampede to work for two hours dressed in a sheep costume as Shaun the Sheep and his cute little baby, Timmy. I of course being the shorter of us had to be Timmy the fat baby. We stood in the grand stand and danced and had our pictures taken with a bunch of kids. Some kids pulled Shaun’s tail, one kid ran around hitting my belly and his parents wouldn’t control him. So I may have accidentally head butted him. Tehehe….. It is not like I can see out of the costume anyway. It was eventually time to go and we are tearing down the corridor pretty much blind in the suit while people grab at us for photos. We eventually got out of the hot suits and went home for a nap before the real fun began.
On break time in my Timmy the Sheep outfit.
In the afternoon we began drinking sangria at the house before heading over to go proper stampeding. The atmosphere hitting the gates was great and we made our way first to the mini donut stand. A rookie error on my behalf as it was to start my obsession over the next week with mini donuts. Equipped with food, we headed off to the bar to hang out for a while and grab a few drinks before catching Vance Joy playing at the Coca Cola stage.
Mmm. … mini donuts!
Vance Joy was awesome. We danced, we screamed and jumped up and down. It was awesome. At one point trying to get out of the crowd to a toilet I jumped a fence into a restricted area and then got thrown out over an even bigger fence. It’s a wonder that I didn’t fall on my face to be honest.
Hanging with the girls at Vance Joy
Back to the B Bar it was for more drinks, watching people ride the mechanical bull and dancing on the tables to the Spice Girls before getting kicked off them. Fireworks ended off the evening and it was down the road to the pub.
Monday was a struggle. After a massive detox session it was back to work and doing the double shifts on Tuesday. It was my first day in the evening working on the Bell Adrenaline Ranch with the Cannon Lady and the boys from Keith Sayers doing the Evolution of Extreme motocross show. I was super impressed actually. These guys do some crazy stuff on their bikes.
One of the motocross guys doing a massive aerial jump. Too cool for school.
Wednesday was some more of the same except the wind got up and the shows got cancelled so I got to.go and see the Corral Show of acrobatics and explore around the BMO Centre getting fed donuts and whipped cream from guys we didn’t know and hanging about in the massage chairs. A cruisy day indeed.
Calgary Stampede
On Friday I had my first proper day off work and so I went to go and see the rodeo show. I watched the calf roping, bucking horse, bull riding and the girls.barrel races. It was pretty good. I sat next to a new couple I met there and they explained different things to me and we had a great time judging points.
The rodeo in the main Grandstand.
It was the last of my stampede experiences. And I was glad to have gotten to experience it from so many different angles. Another thing to tick off the bucket list. Done and dusted and ready to set out for the next adventure!
“The mountain always wins. You never win. Occasionally it just decides to let you through.”
With all that has been going on in Nepal in the last month, it has been an emotional time for many, including me. I have worried and feared for friends that were in Kathmandu, I have seen other friends of mine lose loved ones. It has taken a huge toll on many. While for myself, for those who didn’t know, I was evacuated out of Dingbouche on the way to Everest Basecamp with pneumonia and acute pulmonary edema. I was incredibly lucky to be in a place where I could be evacuated or otherwise I could have died. After my stint in the hospital I met someone also evacuated and he said to me ‘the mountain always wins. You never win. Occasionally it just decides to let you through’. This has resonated with me for a while considering the incredible misfortune people have been suffering in Nepal during the earthquakes. It has given me time to reflect on my own trek while I was there before everything went sour for me. The following is the first 8 days of my trek to Everest Basecamp.
Pre-Trip
We didn’t start on the best of notes. The day before we were due to leave I came back to find my friend on the bathroom floor dying of a chest infection. I went to the pharmacy, bought her the best antibiotics I could get my hands on and then fed her paracetamol to lower her fever while I sat in the bathroom with her with hot water steaming out the bathroom while I rubbed tigerbalm on her back and tried to pound some of the crap out of her chest.
The following day, despite still being a total mess we got up and went to the airport as a group to get our flight to Lukla. But there was a thick fog over Kathmandu that day and our flight was delayed until the fog lifted. We sat in the airport for four hours before they said the fog had lifted enough for us to leave. We got onto the bus that took us out to the tarmac to wait for our plane only to be turned around and told that we had had our flight cancelled due to bad weather in Lukla. It was somewhat a blessing in disguise. We got to go home and rest for another day.
Day 1- Kathmandu to Lukla, Lukla to Phakding
Better luck than the day before and the skies were crystal clear and we managed to take our flight to Lukla. We were told that the best kinds of views are seen from the window on the left side of the plane so we rushed our way in to get prime seats. I had never seen anything more spectacular in my life than the view of the mountains as I excitedly flew next to the Himalayas on my way to Lukla.
The scenic flight from Kathmandu to Lukla with amazing views of the Himilayas.
Before I knew it we were approaching the runway which is pretty much a strip that runs on an incline uphill from a sheer drop at the beginning of a cliff, to a cliff wall at the other end. I could see how it had gained the reputation as being one of the most dangerous airports in the world.
The airport runway in Lukla. Cliff drop on one end, cliff face on the other.
After eating lunch, it was time to start on our way towards Phakding, our first destination for the evening. It was a relatively flat and easy walk and along the way I met the most adorable boy who was drawing with permanent markers. He drew a watch on my wrist with red permanent marker to match his watch that he was wearing and for the rest of the trip I wore that red watch until it eventually rubbed off. Every time I looked at it, it made me smile.
My new friend drawing me a wrist watch in red permanent marker so I can always tell mountain time.
We arrived in Phakding and checked into our tea house. After dinner it was time for a rest. It had been a long day.
Day 2 – Phakding to Namche Bazaar
It was the first day of solid hiking and as my friend was still not feeling a hundred percent it was a slow day. The views as we progressed along the trail became more and more spectacular as the day progressed. For lunch we stopped in a village where there was a small boy who was believed to have been reincarnated from one of the elderly men in the village down the way. He apparently can tell you who his mother was and other family members from his previous life. Incredible story.
The young boy was reincarnated from the older man on the left.
As we continued on, we arrived at the foot of the town of Namche Bazaar, the town that was later to be the epicentre of the second massive earthquake within the region. We were staying near the top and it was starting to get dark. It was a long slog up giant staircases but we eventually made it. The night was spent hanging by the fire and playing Monopoly (in which I behaved like a five year old competitive child and won everybody else’s money and properties).
Giant bridge crossing in massive winds across a canyon.
Day 3 – Day hike to the Everest View Lodge
Acclimatization day number one. We started in the morning in decent enough weather on the climb up to the Everest View lodge. About half way up it started snowing and the weather turned and became freezing. Eventually we made it to the top and sat in the lodge drinking tea and soup, somewhat disappointed that our first ever view of Everest was not going to happen due to the haze covering all of the views. It did have a very eerie and cool feeling to it though.
The town of Namche Bazaar.
On the way back down we got lost as there was so much snow we couldn’t see the path. At one point we went the wrong way and then had to back track. I fell over in a super muddy patch and got my pants incredibly dirty and yet still laughed the whole way. It was a great day and I was settling well into the routine.
A wild yak on the mountain on its way down in the snow.
Day 4 – Namche Bazaar to Debouche
I woke up not feeling the best. I was starting to cough a little and my lungs were starting to hurt. We walked the first part on the flat and for the first time I laid my eyes on Everest. She popped her top out from behind a bunch of other mountains. As far away as she was, she was daunting and beautiful. We sent our porter ahead to buy some boiled eggs from a local place and we ate those as a snack before the hard work began… the massive uphill climb to Tengbouche.
Stunning views from the trail after my first view of Everest.
I struggled. But I kept on going at my own pace with my earphones in and I actually made decent time. At the top I was fairly spent and we tried to go to the Tengbouche monastery but it was not open. I had a rest on the stairs out the front and then made my way down the hill another twenty minutes to Debouche where we sat around by the fire, drank lots of tea and went to bed early.
The monastery at Tengbouche.
Day 5 – Debouche to Dingbouche
I woke up feeling great. The rest had done me good from the day before as had the cold and flu tablets I took to try and kick my symptoms overnight. The hike for the most part of the day was fairly flat along the edge of the mountain ridge towards the holy grail of mountains. Towards the end it was getting very windy and two of my group members started to feel unwell. One of them started vomiting. The altitude was kicking in
One of the most incredible views I have ever seen in my life.
Eventually we arrived in camp at Dingbouche and got settled in. I bossed the others into drinking heaps of water and got the nurse from the volunteer medical centre to check them over. They both were diagnosed with moderate altitude sickness. I had a test myself and my oxygen levels were normal. My heart rate was getting pretty high though and was 124. I assumed this was somewhat normal for me as I have high resting heart rate anyway. I took a couple of photos on extended shutter of the mountains in the dark and went to bed.
Stunning moonlight views from Dingbouche.
Day 6 – Dingbouche Day hike
Up early and time to do the acclimatization hike. I was feeling good until I started and as soon as I started uphill I started feeling the effects of the altitude. Breathing was harder. I felt so ridiculously fatigued I didn’t know if I was going to make the top of the hill at 4700m. I kept plugging away at it slowly, determined. I knew that if I couldn’t make this I couldn’t make basecamp and I was determined to do it. I watched everyone else sail up the hill past me and felt rubbish about it. I eventually got there. I sat for half an hour resting and looked out over the most spectacular views. Then I started my descent.
Completely spent and enjoying the views from 4700m, the highest point I would reach during the hike.
Once I got back to the teahouse I sat with two minus twenty sleeping bags on trying to get warm drinking a 2 litre thermos of hot lemon. I tried to read my book and couldn’t concentrate. I still felt incredibly fatigued and was trying to stay awake for the afternoon and do what I needed to to ward off altitude sickness. Eventually I caved, ate dinner and went to bed.
Day 7 – Getting evacuated from Dingbouche to Kathmandu hospital
At one in the morning I awoke to severe coughing with the realization that I was coughing up handfuls of water. High altitude pulmonary odema had set in and I knew I was in a very serious situation. After a night of trying to be calm and conserve oxygen we sent for the helicopter and they evacuated me back to the hospital in Kathmandu. The dream of getting to Everest basecamp this trip had died. But I knew I would be back to finish what I started at some point later, because I hate not finishing what I started.
If you haven’t read already, check out my blog post “This Week I Almost Died” for a more detailed account of what happened when I got evacuated off of Everest Basecamp trek.
Despite only being a whirlwind five days in Scotland, I spent most of it sitting in my friend Paul’s kitchen drinking wine and eating cheese or painting sunsets terribly in the studio drunk on wine. I did however do the odd museum tour and in the grand scheme of me and learning, I learned quite a few odd and interesting things.
SirRoger
Sir Roger is a famous Glaswegian elephant who went on heat, got a bit violent and then they were forced to shoot him in the head. In the awesome tradition of not letting go of things we love, Sir Roger was then stuffed by a taxidermist, preserved in arsenic and formaldehyde and put on show in the Kelvingrove Museum (ps. Kelvin as in the man who did the Kelvin scale of absolute temperature… science nerds rejoice!)
The famous Sir Roger complete with broken trunk and bullet hole.
Sir Roger of course is a children’s delight. So many of them can’t resist touching him all the time and one child accidentally snapped off his trunk….. so then they glued it back on. Poor Roger.
Christ Of Saint John Of The Cross
This famous painting by Salvador Dali is also now housed in the Kelvingrove. Once upon a time a few moons ago, some crackpot who thought he was Jesus decided that he didn’t like the portrayal of himself within the painting. Of course the only acceptable way of dealing with such an offensive representation is to go to the museum and throw a brick through the painting. If you look closely you can see where the painting went through repairs.
The famous Salvador Dali painting equipped with square rip from the offended real Jesus’ brick.
This, however was not deemed enough by another group of crackpots who went to the museum and shot bullets at the painting with a gun. Jokes on them though, the Dali is now housed in bulletproof glass. Epic fail.
McDonald’s Is Technologically Apt
So I wander drunk into a Maccas at midnight and have a massive flip out when I discover that not only can you order your food on a giant touch screen before you get to the counter, but once you have your drunken cheeseburger and fries, you can sit and play angry birds and other cool games on a touch screen computer. You can also do some Facebooking if you feel so inclined…. what is this socially antisocial world coming to?
Drunken cheeseburger and Facebook in the upscale McDonald’s.
Painting
I was fortunate enough to be able to spend my time with two exceptionally talented brothers that are painters while I was in Glasgow. This opened my world to art galleries and exhibitions I would not otherwise have experienced. It also allowed me one afternoon to sit and paint with a canvas. I learned firstly that drunken finger painting is fun. Secondly I learned to look at things in a context of colors and shadows more. It is incredible to sit and watch my friend Paul paint and to watch his brain process where colors and paints go. Awesome 🙂
My glorious painting. Now an exceptional masterpiece on a bathroom wall for hilarity’s sake
GOMA Statue And The Traffic Cone
Glaswegians have such a good sense of humour that a traffic cone constantly lives on the head or some other part of the statue outside of GOMA. Apparently the council will remove it but someone always climbs right back up there to deposit yet another traffic cone in its rightful place, statue head.
The GOMA Statue and it’s glorious traffic cone hat
Glaswegians Kick Arse And Balls
Once upon a time in Glasgow at the airport there was an attempted terrorist attack. A few guys decided it would be a good idea to fill a Jeep with some fuel canisters and set it on fire whilst driving it into the front doors of the airport. The guys in the Jeep got out and were tackled by some locals. One awesome Glaswegian kicked a guy in the balls so hard he broke his foot. Local hero! And now you can’t approach the front door of the airport by car, you get dropped off a hundred meters back from the entrance.
After spending such a large amount of time sick while I was travelling around Asia (of which there are more stories to come, I just haven’t gotten around to writing them down yet) I was done with it. Never before had I wanted the Western comforts of home more. And by Western comforts I am not talking about things like mummy and daddy and a room to myself as much as I love these things. But my first request getting off the plane was steak. Lots of steak. And brie cheese… my Achilles heel.
I arrived at the airport only to have a dispute with the arsehole immigration officer who seemed to be concerned that as teacher I was going to attempt to work in the UK for the all of 2 weeks I am here with adequate funds and my old Canadian visa and onward ticket. In true Dano fashion I said to him “seriously? Your country would sponsor me to come here and work and get paid as a teacher. If I wanted a work visa I’d have one already and you’d organize it for me. I’m her for two weeks to buy bras, eat steak and visit friends before working jobs I have lined up in Canada! Why would I lie?” He let me through. I am pretty sure he was just having an arsehole day. I wanted to tell him if the wind changed his face would stay looking like an arsehole but thought better of it, grabbed my passport and ran.
After a ten minute interrogation, finally got my passport stamped!
So I got out of the customs area and am looking for signs of subway when I hear this familiar high pitched screaming “THOMAS!!!” At which point I am then throwing myself at my friend Tash with the railing in the way and there is screaming and crying for a 3 year reunion. At which point I then got annoyed with the barrier railing and knelt down to crawl through it with my pack still on and people staring at me while I tell her this immigration arsehole nearly wouldn’t let me in the country. She says to me “only you would make me laugh so hard being too lazy to walk around the rail and have a complaint come out of your mouth as the first words spoken… I love you!”
After getting back to her house we had a think… couldn’t figure out where to get the best steak ever but the place down the road does the best ever BBQ meat platters and I am all in! Brisket, baby back ribs, spare ribs, pulled pork… more meat than you could poke a stick at and more than two of us could eat in one sitting and being such a precious commodity, I wrapped the rest of that meat up and took it home for breakfast.
My first meal… hordes of meat, coleslaw and sweet potato fries…. mmm… meat….
Protein was one of the many things I missed in Asia. Especially through Nepal and India, after the stress on the body from the pneumonia and secondary infections and then having to give myself intramuscular injections twice daily (a hilarious and not so hilarious story to come later – watch out for “Adventures With Needles”), I lost a lot of muscles and damaged muscle tissue. I needed protein to heal and protein in Asia is a measly scrap of chicken on a bone in a pile of curry sauce. And vitamins! I was tired, lethargic and felt shitty a lot of the time from diet. But here I was, munching down on meat and Sainsbury vitamin pills for every meal in England and became a force to be reckoned with. That force wound up in Marks and Spencers shopping for bras…. something I no longer owned and yet deemed necessary in this society.
Protein shakes and vitamin pills. A woman’s guide to returning to normal health.
I will say this. I have a ginormous fondness for bras. When I was a teenager the only ones that fit me were horrendous grandma-type looking bras with inch thick straps and material that sat up near my collar bones. As fashion started to compensate for those of us well endowed, my love of pretty bras began. And so continued in M&S as I spent 2 hours in there trying to figure out what size I was now and what they have in my size and then pretty much trying on one of everything they had in my size. Plus matching undies because those were also novel in the unattractive teenage days. The ladies that worked in there stared at me for a long while trying to figure out who the disheveled looking woman in their store trying everything on was. I explained to them “I have been in India, all of my clothes smell and have holes in them, this crop top I am wearing is the only bra I own. I don’t know what size I am anymore”. It was like a state of emergency. They were both horrified and excited and helped me out and by the time I left I was quite a debt on the credit card and super happy with my giant bag of bras hanging off the arm down the street.
Piles and piles on non granny bras 🙂 Ecstatic!!
So off to Primark. For those not English or unfamiliar, Primark is considered cheap and daggy, kind of like the Australian K-Mart and the North American Walmart but done up in a classier way and heaps cheaper. I headed here for basic tank tops, long sleeved tops and t-shirts. And then wound up with shorts, boob tubes, hoodies, bikinis, socks, underpants, leggings and the rest. Another couple of hours later and I emerge from Primark swallowed underneath piles of bags I can barely carry and with waaayyyy too much stuff. My friend Tash says to me “but you deserve it! You haven’t bought things for yourself in a very long time! And you need it! And…. you don’t smell like India anymore thank fuck!”
Just a few of the clothes and shoes I accumulated….
The next days were a hunt for shoes, jeans and accessories. I pretty much bore me new wardrobe in the first 3 days of being in London and then the guilt set in. These clothes were too pretty and nice for me to wear. I am a bum. I wear clothes with holes in them. Looking nice feels weird. What if I trash these nice clothes….. ugh…. people are obviously staring at me because I look so strangely normal now…. and so the readjustment continues…
After a couple of days I started getting used to it. My largest concern now is how to get all of this junk I have to Canada after going out of control. I can check an excess bag but after my adventures of getting it to Glascow on the all too familiar sleeper bus I am pretty excited about my next stop being my last stop for a while. Bring on more work and a bit of normality. Oh and more steak. Mmm…. steak….
So to make it all the way to the western-most point of Canada just so I could say that I have been all the way overland from east to west, my across Canada trip wouldn’t be complete without a trip to Vancouver Island.
I took the local bus to the ferry and caught the ferry over to Victoria, the major city on Vancouver Island. It was a beautiful day so I went for a walk around the legislative building and sat upon the lawn listening to a free concert that they had playing for a festival. I also went to visit the Antarctic Exhibition at the museum. One of the biggest things that struck me about Victoria was the sheer number of homeless people that the government had literally shipped over to Vancouver Island during the Vancouver Winter Olympics. It was so sad to see how many of these people were scattered about the streets with nowhere to go and it was in a way very heartbreaking.
The stunning harbour in Victoria
I got my rideshare up to Nanaimo with Marika who was really lovely. Nanaimo was a dead town so it was on the bus to Tofino. It was beautiful in Tofino but quite cloudy. I went for a wander around the town and checked into the hostel. I didn’t book before arriving and this was again going to bite me in the butt when they tell me they have only two of the three nights I wanted and as such for the middle night I was going to have to find somewhere else to stay… an interesting feat given that the town appeared to be booked out with accommodation.
Mushroom Island… my home for the evening
So I set off with my one man camouflage tent in search of somewhere to pitch a tent for the evening. I took the bus to Mackenzie Beach, decided that $40 a night to pitch a tent was ridiculous and then trotted over to the aptly named Mushroom Island to find somewhere to illegally pitch my tent and hope that the cops didn’t find me. I found a pretty good place, or so I thought, shaded by fallen trees and other bushes. I set up my camp, went back to the campground to use their facilities and stock up on water supplies and headed back to my campground to find that it had been discovered by some hippies from the commune Pools Lane down the road. They had started to build a fire no more than ten meters from where I had pitched my tent and were sitting around playing their ukulele and smoking. So I hung out with them for the rest of the night around the fire with the soothing sounds of others playing music next to their bonfires along the beach. Eventually they said goodbye and went back to Pools Lane and I went to bed.
My not so well hidden tent
I awoke to a dog sniffing around my tent. I poked my head out to discover that I had been yet again found out by a dog and a couple of kids wandering through the paths of the island. I decided it was time to get up, pack up my stuff and make tracks back to Tofino. I spent the afternoon sitting on the pier reading and it again turned foggy and the weather unbearable for outside activities. I bunkered inside for the evening, my last on the island.
The hazy mountain view from Tofino
In the morning I took the bus back to Nanaimo and caught the ferry back to Vancouver. It was over. A massive trip from east to west completed and now it was time to settle down and get to some work for a while. My Canadian adventures had ceased for a while…. but only for a short while! 🙂
Thomas Takes On.... 