Some of my fondest memories are going on family trips to Lake Kariba. Often we would spend a weekend, fishing and game spotting, and simply getting away from the city. Sometimes we would even spend entire weeks up there aboard big house boats and travel far across the lake for many days. I remember it as always being very relaxing to be so close to nature and be able to observe the animals completely at ease. The poem below was one we found in my dad's desk and that is now pinned to the cork board in my room.

The Power of the Zambezi, by J. Edward Woodward

Through the continent of Africa
The mighty Zambezi flows
Over waterfall, through deep ravine
And where dense forest grows.

But such might and power
And so much frantic haste
Through so many generations
Has mostly gone to waste.

So the heads of two great nations,
Engaged with such accord
To Dam this surging monster
And the first skip of concrete poured

Then fifty thousand Batonka people
Had to move from their homes
And the treasure of the wildlife
No more this Vale could roam

As skip by skip the Dam wall rose
Inch by inch did the water.
Animals and Human kind
Would find their lives would alter

But Nyaminyami the River god
Was not pleased by this obstruction
And twice in rage almost brought
Mens efforts to destruction

But in spite of many hardships,
The Dam was at last complete
And now folks from around the world
Come to admire, this engineering feat

So now a mighty lake appears
Where once there was 'a stream'
Filled with many kinds of fish
from Tigerfish to Bream

But this is not the climax
Of this colossal river fight.
For several million people now,
Are getting power and light.

So be at peace Nyaminyami
You have not lost your power
For now millions pay you homage
Each day and every hour

Any many climb the twisting road
Up to the lookout steeple.
To look across that massive lake and see
Matchstick boats and matchstick people.

And so great Lake Kariba
They built a church near you
Not only in memory of the dead
But to inspire the living too.

Pre departure - Still
Now that you have all the paperwork sorted out its time to start giving some thought to what you need to take with you. Again this won’t be an exhaustive list but feel free to leave a comment or send me an email about any suggestions you have.

Day Four – Arrival

Well we survived a trip that could have driven us insane. We travelled 65 hours, 4352 kilometres and roughly 20 muesli bars. We are actually very lucky that the trip is ending today. The carriage we were on has turned feral in the one night since it was cleaned with every drain in every bathroom becoming clogged and garbage beginning to spread all over the aisles.

Also it seems someone had broken into the carriage last night and replaced my usual impeccably groomed self with a red-eyed maniac who stank of travel and cheap meals. My joints ached like they had been wrenched around all night, which they essentially had, and I couldn’t face myself in the mirror because of the unusual angle my neck was stuck at.

Our last night aboard the train had been great fun as we’d met two students from Queensland who, thankfully, lowered themselves to playing our ridiculous ‘train’ games that we shamelessly stole from Callum. They also told us some fun stories about the people they’d travelled with in their carriage, some of them sounded as bad as the one’s we had met. We also got to watch the implosion of the UTS students who were having some huge row over politics or economics or possibly religion, we weren’t quite sure but a huge row was going on and those words were thrown around a lot. In their defence all of them really did show a lot of passion for the argument and that is quite important in life.

Falling asleep was harder to do because of the excitement of arriving in Sydney and it was nearly two o’clock in the morning when I finally dozed off. Sadly the attendants saw fit to wake us up at 5:45 to announce the birthday of a 66 year old passenger. Even she looked slightly put out by the loud congratulations over the P.A system. We were then informed we had half an hour to grab breakfast before they would stop serving it. At around ten the train began to pull through the main suburbs of Sydney and we began to see what we had travelled for four days to get to.

I can’t say I will miss the India Pacific but I can’t say I didn’t really enjoy the trip either. It takes a long time and is probably a fair bit more expensive than a plane and apparently the service has been greatly reduced. But I still don’t hesitate to recommend it to everyone as a great way to have a ‘new’ experience.

Day Three

We arrived in Adelaide early in the morning and were eager to jump off the train and get a proper cooked breakfast. We were advised by the married couple to get a taxi into Adelaide as it was faster and more reliable than the coach service that operated from the station. We jumped into the first available taxi and were immediately taken for a ride by a cabbie who knew we were from out of town and decided to teach us a valuable lesson about being specific when a running meter is involved.

Actually he did, to his credit, drop us right in front of an excellent cafe where we got a good breakfast and some life-giving coffee. Once we had fed the body it was time to feed the mind and we strolled through the CBD of Adelaide, pausing to admire some of the handsome old buildings that had been excellently preserved. Being the so-called “Festival City”, there was a lot of beautiful art to see from the streets; from the coins embedded in the pavement to the big steel balls proudly erected in the middle of the walkway. Sadly our time ran out and we had to hail another taxi, this time being very specific as to where we were going.

A lot of new people had boarded the train since we’d arrived in Adelaide. One fairly large group seemed to be travelling together and turned out to be a group of students from UTS (University of Technology Sydney) that had been attending a sustainability conference. For the most part they were polite but one of them, and I single him out to be the target of my irritation, developed a habit of dropping into our chairs whenever we got up to go to the dining cart and then pretending not to notice when we came back. The little git.

We got into Broken Hill in the late afternoon and were treated to a nicely preserved city centre. Broken Hill is another mining town but it rates higher than Karlgoorlie for the number of artists that call it home. There is a touching memorial to soldiers lost both in World War I & II as well as a smaller, but still handsome, memorial to those lost in the Vietnam War. There is also a rather eerie restaurant that is based on a big hill over-looking the city. It looms over the town like some Bond Villain’s hideout and feels a bit out of place.

Tomorrow we shall arrive in Sydney and once more sleep in comfortable beds!

The People

I could devote an entire book to the people I’ve met so far on this trip but that would take a long time so instead I will devote a single post to 4 people that have really stuck out. These individuals have introduced themselves to me, usually while I’ve been sitting in the dining compartment, and each of them can definitely be described as a “Character”

Satan Gilbert Fox

This was the curious individual I mentioned earlier. Mr. Fox is of the belief that he is a direct descendent of Satan. I hesitate to challenge this assumption as he also seems a harmless sort whose only crime is to attempt to sell his various artworks to people sitting in the dining cart.

Mr. Fox approached me while I was working on some other writing project. He introduced himself and shook me by the hand before launching into a lengthy explanation about how he was a direct descendent of Satan and was considered a prince by some. Sadly this would not make him the strangest person I’ve ever met so I didn’t really think much of his behaviour. Unfortunately he then pulled out some very interesting art-work that he attempted to sell to me. I have a lot of trouble saying no to people who are trying to sell me stuff or ask for money so I felt like I was in a very awkward position where I would end up purchasing most of his art. Luckily I was saved by the duty officer who politely asked Mr. Fox to follow him out of the cart where they could have a polite chat.

Apparently it’s not legal to attempt to sell goods or services to passengers onboard the Indian Pacific and Mr. Fox had run afoul of this rule. Luckily for him he was simply reprimanded and given a free meal but he could have been put off the train at our next stop. Not a desirable outcome.

The Proud Nanna

I have sadly forgotten this lady’s name as Kieran and I had been having a few drinks when she approached us and introduced herself.

For the purpose of this post we shall refer to her as the ‘proud nanna’ because that is just what she was. Nanna started by asking us where we were from, before debating with us as to whether we were being honest. Then the usual disbelief followed when she found out I was in fact old enough to drink and Kieran was not my father. Finally she settled down into the booth opposite ours and began to tell us her life story, punctuated with extremely expressive hand gestures.

It was Nanna’s first trip on the Indian Pacific and she had loved every minute of it. The joy of being able to wander up and down at will instead of being confined to a tiny airline seat was the very peak of technological achievement as far as she was concerned. It also turned out that she was travelling with her youngest daughter and her husband who was back in the carriage snoozing. Her youngest was very well behaved, unlike some of the other children onboard, and, apparently, her grand-children.

Nanna was full of stories, many of them unfortunately unprintable, but she did keep us thoroughly enthralled for a few hours and did not kill us (always a plus).

The Married Couple

These two empty-nesters joined in our discussions with the Nanna and introduced themselves as frequent travellers on the Indian Pacific.

They were full of some interesting anecdotes about the train itself; their first trip aboard, the various tricks they use to secure a cheaper sleeper, their habits and methods to deal with the boredom that eventually sets in and their plans for the holiday.

I make no excuses for the fact that I am fairly out of shape. I can run up a hill and not die but push me beyond that and I’ll break down into one of the ‘before’ candidates for the Biggest Loser. With this in mind I was put utterly to shame when the couple described all the jogging and extreme sports they were into. They white-water rafted and quad biked in between all the hiking they did and still found time to work successful jobs, one as a rail engineer and the other as a mad scientist (I kid you not).

The sadder story they told us was how much the Indian Pacific had changed in just 4 years. Apparently the train used to have a lot more services available to the Red carriage passengers. They spent a bit of time talking about the lounge car that used to be available which had big comfortable couches and a fully stocked bar. After a day and a half sitting upright these stories sounded like a paradise that had been cruelly snatched away by a cruel and budget slashing devil.

Ultimately all of these people will get off at Adelaide and, though new people will replace them, it will be hard to replace the bond that we’d somehow created.

Day Two

Well we arrived in Kalgoorlie late last night and the entire town was completely dead. The only pub we wandered into had already called last drinks. Kalgoorlie is primarily a mining town so I’m not sure what we were expecting but I don’t think we expected to be as disappointed. Interestingly enough we saw three brothels and one was actually disguised as a museum. I have no moral objection to brothels or the service they provide but I can’t say I liked seeing a ‘specials’ board displaying the girls like they were dishes to order.

The first night of sleep was actually pretty easy, the constant rocking motion making it easy to nod off, and we didn’t pick up nearly enough people at Kalgoorlie to make it noisy. The seats were not the most comfortable beds but they were miles better than airline seats for getting a good rest in and although I woke up a bit sore the pain quickly faded away. The Indian Pacific is equipped with showers that actually have decent water pressure and fairly hot water. You strip down and lather up which is when the trouble begins. The first problem is that the train is still moving at a fairly good pace while you are standing in what is essentially a slippery cubicle so the slightest bump or jolt sends you flying around the place. The second problem is that the water pressure will drop without any real warning, going from a gentle mist to a stinging spray in less than a second. By the end of my first shower I felt like I had been gently water-boarded and had the bruises to prove it.

It also transpired that we had somehow lost time while we were travelling. The track is big but it can still only support on train at a time so there were frequent points in the night where we’d apparently had to stop and allow a freight train to pass. This put us about forty five minutes behind schedule which meant that we could only make a short stop in Cook, a semi-ghost town.

Cook is described as Australia’s “loneliest” town as the population stays static at 2. The only visitors the town ever sees are the passengers from the Indian Pacific and they only stay long enough to take photos of the abandoned hospital and school. It is a bit of a stark reminder of how empty Australia can be and how the tiniest change to a train route can mean the difference between life and death to a small town community.

Tomorrow we arrive in Adelaide and bid farewell to most of the people we’ve been sharing our carriage with.

Day One

We got on the train without much incident besides Kieran nearly leaving his travelling hat in the departure terminal. Our home for the next three days is two upright red chairs that recline a bit. They are quite comfortable but in that way that will become uncomfortable in the next five hours. Luckily we have a dining car a short walk down the train that we can go and relax in and we are forecast to stop in Kalgoorlie this evening.

This wouldn’t be an Australian train if it wasn’t also a licensed venue so we will be able to purchase beer and wine on board should we feel the need. The advertised food sounds very good but we are pretty sure it will turn out to simply be glorified airline cuisine. The Gold Class carriages have proper chefs (they walk through our carriage to get to their jobs) but we have a very friendly crew manning the canteen so I don’t feel we’ve been wronged.

I did manage to make myself look a bit of an idiot by simply handing the nice man behind the counter my debit card in order to pay for beer and wine. Without any prompting from me he had copied down my passport number, copied my card and opened up a tab for me. I have a nearly paralysing fear of debt and the like so I would have confronted the man about it but he seemed so happy about it that I didn’t have the heart to.

We sat in the dining car and enjoyed a quiet drink while the landscape sped past in an almost hypnotic fashion. I was drinking the classic Carlton Draught and Kieran was sipping at a small bottle of house red. The beer was nothing remarkable but Kieran did insist that I let everyone know just how bad the wine was, comparing it unfavourably to vinegar.

The earlier problem with the account reared its head as we discovered that we couldn’t close our account without spending at least $20 so we ended up with a few cans of coke and some twix bars. The dining car is small considering it serves three carriages but none of the carriages are even close to full yet so we have space to stretch out. More passengers are due to get on in Kalgoorlie tonight.

The current complement of passengers is interesting and we have quite a few ‘characters’ on board. One person in particular seems to think that he is one of the direct descendents of Satan. I haven’t really seen any evidence to support this claim but by the same token there’s none to refute it. Nonetheless we shall be keeping an eye on him and I will keep everyone updated.

I’ve been living in Australia for two years now but the furthest I’ve gotten out of town is the weekly jaunt to Fremantle for work or a visit to Joondalup to see family. With this in mind when the chance came up to visit Sydney I seized on it and the chance to see a different side of Australia.

The original plan was to drive from Perth to Sydney, a trip that would likely take us three days if we drove 9 – 12 hours every day. Unfortunately we decided to scrap this idea as the cost of fuel, food and accommodation would put it out of our budget reach. So the other option seemed to be fly directly to Sydney, it was cheaper and quicker, but ultimately we also decided against this as it wouldn’t really allow us to see much of the outback. Thankfully there was a third option; hop on the transcontinental train from Perth to Adelaide and then Sydney.

The Indian Pacific was the first uninterrupted transcontinental rail train linking Perth to Sydney from late February 1970. The train measures 711 metres, weighs 1375 tonnes and travels a total of 4352 kilometres (roughly 65 hours). The passenger accommodation ranges from the luxury sleepers to the ‘cheap’ seats which are very reminiscent of Airplane seating.

What particularly attracted me to this method of transport was that one of my heroes, Bill Bryson, had made a similar trip and had commented that it was a good way to see Australia. Unfortunately with no publishing company to pay for our voyage we had to choose the cheap Red service seats. Even with a fairly hefty student discount it was still much more expensive than flying.

The train leaves Perth at 12:00 in the afternoon on Wednesday the 7^th of July and arrives in Sydney on Saturday the 10^th of July at 10:15 a.m. We’ll be spending most of our time on the train but there are a fair amount of stops; including a quick stop-off at the semi-Ghost town of Cook, in the mining town of Kalgoorlie, a morning stop in Adelaide, an afternoon trip into Broken Hill and finally we get to Sydney. I probably won’t be able to upload these till I actually arrive in Sydney but know that they will be written on the train.

It can’t have escaped your notice that I’ve not updated much lately and I hope to rectify that in the next few days. In the past week I’ve booked the tickets to Sydney, moved house and nearly frozen to death in the grip of winter that has seized Perth.

London is a city that I love and hate. I love everything there is to see and I hate that I never have enough time to see it all. I was pretty busy while in the UK but still managed to make time to make two trips into London. On both trips I was fortunate enough to have good friends show me around otherwise I’d probably have ended up on the news after being mugged and left for dead.

While in London I got to see Big Ben, Buckingham Palace (a bit tacky), the London Eye, Parliament House and my two favourite attractions; a haunted house at County Hall and the British Museum. I had my camera out most of the time and even the grey sky and constant drizzle couldn’t keep me down. What did get me down was getting lost. People in London, lovely though they are, do not like being stopped in the street. Perhaps it is the prevalence of begging and magazine subscription sellers, I ended up buying a book off a Buddhist Monk-in-training, which makes them walk on and pretend that they haven’t heard you talking to them. Honestly though once you make them realise that you aren’t trying to sell them anything they are quite happy to point you in the right direction, which is often the opposite to where I’ve been heading.

I think one of my favourite features of London is the statues and plaques on what seems like every corner. Some of them aren’t exactly exciting but others, like the statue of Winston Churchill, are amazing pieces of history. The old buildings also serve to make the skyline something attractive although sometimes only from a distance. It was pretty cool visiting 221b Baker Street where a certain famous detective was purportedly from, although it was full of slightly creepy statues that were just life-like enough to freak me out.

Sadly I couldn’t afford the zoo so that still remains on my list of things to do but the British Museum was amazing, sort of the treasure rooms of a now defunct empire and filled with all the associated spoils. The museum, like most of London, probably requires more time than I could give it but I still felt like I’d seen enough to satisfy me till the next trip. If you’re in London then visit the museum, you will not be disappointed.

But all too soon it became time to hop on a train home and I remembered why I hate London. One day I think I will have to make the time to truly appreciate it which may take months or even years but I think it would definitely be worth it.

I know the year ended a couple of days ago but I need more time than that for reflection. So here are my belated feelings about 2009.

2009 was the year of the horrific bush fires in Victoria and the news was full of heart-breaking stories of families torn apart by this disaster. But rather than let the disaster define them I saw a side of Australia I’d never seen before as the people opened their hearts and gave so generously that I think a surplus of money was raised. We had a fund raiser at the Village and as one of the top donors I got to shave my boss completely bald, he was a good sport about all of it even the leg waxing he had to endure.

This was also the year when I got to meet some truly great people; Josh, Kat, Matt, Brittany, Andi, Adam, Callum, Cato, Cheri, Shradha, Simon, Sam, Rebecca, Sarah, Emily, Mana, Michael, Kara, Carole, Kitin, Helvin, Clarence, John, Dannia, Avi and many more. I also deepened existing relationships and although some people aren’t in my life as much anymore I still think that it was a good year for me in terms of getting to spend time with some pretty exceptional people.

Sadly this was the year that Dome cafe and I parted ways. It was an amiable split as my health wasn’t great and I was finding it a great strain to keep two jobs as well as study. Dome is a great cafe and the people there made it feel more like a family than a simple job so I did feel a lot of regret over leaving them. I feel pretty special because I can walk into Dome and get such a warm welcome and I think it really reflects well on the great people there.

2009 also saw the inauguration of Barack Obama which is, politics aside, a pretty historical occasion. I remember being up at like 2 or 3 in the morning with Avi to watch his speech and feeling so inspired by his words. Thumbs up Mr. President.

We also lost some pretty special people this year which is always sad especially when they have touched so many lives in so many ways. Michael Jackson, however you feel about him, was a spectacular entertainer. Edward Woodward was the original, and best, Wicker Man. Those two really stuck out for me, Michael Jackson because I followed his career and the much publicised trial and Edward Woodward because I really liked him as an actor.

This was also a pretty exceptional year for cinema as we had the film adaptation of Alan Moore’s excellent “Watchmen”, the re-boot of “Star Trek”, the boy-meets-girl-but-not-love story of “(500) days of Summer”, the tongue in cheek ‘historical’ film “Inglorious Basterds”, the touching story of “Up” which had me in tears and James Cameron’s simply all around excellent “Avatar”. I know there were also a lot of bad films released in 2009 but I’m trying to focus on the positives here.

In musical terms I got introduced to a heap of new bands in 2009, Davy Knowles & Backdoor Slam, Kate Miller-Heidke, Mumford & Sons, The Temper Trap, The Wagons, Art Vs. Science and many more. I love to listen to music as a form of relaxation and even meditation sometimes and learning about bands I haven’t heard before simply broadens my options.

Finally 2009 saw the blogging competition which really challenged me to write in different ways and pushed me to try untested ideas. Before this I’d never uploaded a video to youtube or really saw the value of twitter but now I’ve been show how interconnected all the social networking sites and programs really are. I didn’t win the competition which was a bit disappointing but I will wholeheartedly acknowledge that Jessica, http://unstable-stability.blogspot.com/, deserved the honour because she really showed what she was capable of. Thumbs up!

Overall I think 2009 was a mixed year, I had to deal with a lot of issues that affected my life and there were a lot of moments where I felt completely overwhelmed by circumstances that felt out of my control. There was also a profound sense of loss as some very special people in my life moved away or returned to their home countries and I certainly miss them a lot. However I think if 2009 taught me anything it’s that I am capable of a lot more than I realise and I really hope that in 2010 I will get a chance to prove it.

Happy New Year everybody, thank you for the kind words, the support and the emails. I hope each and every one of you has a great year.

So the plane had touched down safely in London and I wobbled to baggage reclaim to pick up my suitcase. Customs and passport control was easy enough as I just had to show them that I carry a British Passport and all the barriers seem to magically lift, this makes a nice change from Australian and South African customs where I always feel like I’m about one shifty look away from a full pat-down and cavity search.

I strolled out of the terminal feeling rather proud of myself for managing to stay awake for the entire flight, something I would later come to regret. Anyway despite having lived in the UK for as long as I had I still felt like I was in unfamiliar territory and so the smartest course of action seemed to be asking the information desk for the easiest way to get to Burgess Hill. There are few times when I’ve really felt like I’ve made a mistake I will regret for a long time, the first was when I thought it would be totally cool to cut my own hair, the second was when I thought I would be a smart-ass and argue with a particularly un-hinged teacher and the third would have to be when I took the advice of the person behind the information desk.

The route they suggested involved taking the train to London Paddington station before transferring to the tube and making my way, via a very strange and change-filled journey, to London Victoria. Bear in mind that it was 6 in the morning and I had a large suitcase with me so this hardly seemed like an ideal situation but my sleep deprived brain couldn’t really come up with a better alternative so I shelled out the twenty pounds and shambled onto the train.

By now I hadn’t slept for more than twenty four hours and the strain was beginning to make itself felt but I still felt a bit of excitement as I was off on an adventure that would see me brave the dark world of the underground and make my way to Burgess Hill. On the train to London Paddington I did nearly pass out a few times but a very kind lady promised to wake me up if she thought I looked in danger of succumbing to a catatonic state. I also sought assurances from a ticket inspector to make sure I was heading the right way he assured me that I was on the right path and that getting through the London train stations would be easy even with luggage as they provide trolleys. It sounded almost too good to be true and I would learn upon arrival in Paddington why that was.

There were no trolleys and it really wasn’t easy getting around with a big suitcase. I learned from a rather upset gentleman that I was interrupting the flow of traffic during rush hour and that I would make a lot of people late for work. If that’s true and any of them are reading this I really would just like to take the chance to say that it was the information desk at Heathrow Airport’s fault.

My fear of the underground and my reasons why shall be discussed in a future post but I can only imagine how I appeared to the London Commuters on that cold Tuesday morning, an exhausted and shivering travel-worn guy looking around in a wild panic every time the train stopped for no real explainable reason. Obviously, from this post, I eventually made it to my grand-parents. I won’t say I wasn’t changed by my experience or that I didn’t learn anything. In fact upon arriving at my grand-parents house and regaling them with the stories of my morning adventures my grandpa turned to me and said “Why didn’t you just take the shuttle from Heathrow to Gatwick and catch a direct train to Burgess Hill? It’s only 2 stops”. I paused and silently cursed the information desk at Heathrow.

More to come including my adventures in London!

Happy New Year everyone!

The suitcases were packed, the tickets booked and my visa was all in order. All that really stood between me and my vacation was an 18 hour flight to the UK and I didn’t really have to do much on that trip, just sit and watch a few movies. My first flight was from Perth to Malaysia and I eagerly awaited my boarding call in the departure lounge of Perth International. Now, most people hate air travel but I am certainly not one of those people. I love just about everything about flying, the meals are usually exciting, you can drink as much as you like, there are usually good films showing and you get to meet some genuinely interesting people.

In my case I was flying Malaysia Airways for the first time and I was unsure what to expect, remember I’ve flown Air Zimbabwe so I’ve put up with some pretty bad airline service. I was pleasantly surprised to find professional and polite service, the seats were comfortable and the entertainment was up-to-date. I did miss the complimentary toiletries pack that most airlines choose to provide, if only because I like to be able to brush my teeth whenever I arrive in a new country.

As for travelling companions I sat next to a guy my own age called Zack, a native Malaysian, and we spent the five hour trip to Malaysia geeking out over everything from Lord of the Rings to Watchmen. It’s always gratifying to meet someone you immediately get along with, especially when travelling, and it helped put me in a much more optimistic frame of mind about the rest of the trip. It was almost a bit sad when we pulled into Kuala Lumpur as we knew that our time was coming to an end but the splendour of KL airport soon put a stop to that.

Describing KL and the feelings it invoked is difficult because I was so giddy with everything I saw. Bear in mind that it was nearly midnight and everything was still open, there were cafe’s serving travel-worn customers, electronic stores selling a vast array of shiny items and bookstores doing business with an almost hushed reverence. I’ve been to a few airports in my life but I cannot remember if this was how they did business and certainly KL was the most memorable because of the friendly atmosphere.

This is why, in my defence, I believe I acted in the way I did. I took out my camera and started photographing everything in sight, eager to try and capture the atmosphere in photographic form so I could point to people and say “This is how an airport should be!” Unfortunately as friendly as KL is there are certain rules to be followed that were explained to me by the smartly dressed security guards who calmly asked me to put my camera away. After it was stowed they seemed to believe that was the end of the matter and let me go with a friendly nod. Had this been Heathrow I would have been knocked to the floor under a tidal wave of security forces before being whisked off to a detention centre where I would quite likely be executed.

Sadly almost as soon as I had arrived in KL it was time to board my next flight and begin the next leg of my journey. It was going to be my first journey on an Airbus and that elicited fresh excitement from me as I contemplated what mad luxuries I would witness. Truth be told I needn’t have gotten my hopes as far up as I did as it turned out that the Airbus merely has more seats than the Boeings. A lot more seats. I had to walk the length of the plane to get to my seat by which time a kindly old lady had settled into where I was supposed to be sitting but once the stewardess shooed her out I was able to collapse into what would be my home for the next 13 hours.

Airplane seats are oddly not built for comfort. At least they are not built to provide anything resembling comfort for any period over 5 hours. I always find that any period longer than that tends to reveal all the iron bars used in the chairs constructions. After 6 hours you are convinced that the chair in front of you goes further back than should be legal and when you attempt to mimic it you discover your chair only goes a quarter of what you think it should. 7 hours in and your legs begin to ache in an unusual way but of course the issue is that there isn’t anywhere you can really stretch them out without prompting an air hostess to follow you around with a can of mace in case you try anything dangerous. By hour 9 you are convinced that this is really the most subtle form of torture that any government could employ and you must have slighted the government in some unknown way to have earned it.

Finally the plane lands and you stand up only to discover that your legs no longer respond to the brains commands so you sort of flop out of your chair and stumble down the aisle to baggage reclaim. Eventually you recover enough to walk like a reasonable human being but there is still an unseen predator lurking outside of your awareness. Jet Lag.

But that’s probably enough for one update. I’ll put the rest of what I’ve written up in the next couple of days. Thanks for the continued support!

Travel Essentials
Originally uploaded by JonoGurney

When I came to Murdoch there were a few essential items that I brought with me that I am now gathering together in preparation for my holiday.

Notebooks

I usually travel by myself so in a bid to keep myself sane I tend to write an awful lot. This free-form writing can take many forms and I don’t show people the result out of shame for how bad it is. This year I’ve bought two notebooks and they will serve two unique purposes. The black notebook will be used to record my vacation in the event I contract amnesia, the red notebook will be used for my free-form writing and I don’t plan on showing it to anyone.

Passport

Everyone always says “Jono don’t forget your passport” but honestly how much do I really need a passport? I’m sure if I asked nicely customs and immigration would have no problem letting me into another country. I think I will take it anyway but that’s just because I think it’s a nice travel accessory.

Earphones & Headphones

I actually do need 3 pairs, extravagant though that sounds. The earphones are obviously for travel as they are convenient and I take two pairs in case the first pair has an accident. The headphones are a little sentimental to me as they’ve accompanied me on my major journeys and I find it really relaxing to listen to music on them while I write. They are Stagg headphones according to what’s written on the side of them.

iPod Touch

I came to Australia with a 30 GB iPod which I’d bought in the UK the year before. It was a faithful companion on most of my trips and it kept me entertained in a variety of situations, which is why I was sad when it eventually gave up the ghost a few months ago. The iPod that has replaced it has quickly found a place in my heart because of its least touted but most important feature, the ability to read books on it. If I didn’t have that ability the photo above would have a veritable library of books I would be taking with me to read on the trip.

iPod Cable

This is essential so that I can charge the iPod. Duh.

Batteries

The stack of batteries is for my camera (not pictured for obvious reasons) so that I won’t run out of juice at a vital moment. I’m hardly a photographer but I know the frustration of missing an important moment because my batteries died.

Spare SD Card

This is a small, 32mb, card for my camera. I generally use a 2GB in the camera which can hold about 400 photos or 20 minutes of film at highest resolution. I like to keep a spare around in case I run out of room when photographing something important but to tell the truth 32mb is not nearly enough and I will probably be buying a card with more space sometime this week

Mobile Phone

I think the most crucial piece of equipment is the one that allows me to stay in communication with people who can come and rescue me if needs be. Sim cards are pretty cheap the world over so I don’t foresee many problems with picking getting one for the duration of my trip.

Pens

These are as important to me as the iPod. The parker pen I have had since I arrived in Australia as I bought two to take notes and stupidly left one in the Lecture room. Since then I have kept its brother safe. The second pen was actually a gift to me on my twenty first Birthday a few weeks ago from my Uncle and Aunt who live in Australia. I usually remain pretty loyal to the parker pen but this new pen has earned its place in the photo.

So that is pretty much what I will be taking with me to the UK and Zimbabwe. I’ll probably take some clothes and stuff as well but really these are the only important items.

A dark pall hangs over Murdoch these days, students look harried and dash furtively from the library to the cafe and back again clutching precious mugs of coffee. Meals go uneaten, dishes go undone and blogs don’t get updated. Yes, exam season is underway and with it comes all the stress and anxiety that comes from your entire future being decided in two hours of frantic writing.

It may surprise many of you to find out that I am actually very productive during the exam periods. I tidy my room, play noughts & crosses and even find the time to update the blog. This is merely a very productive form of procrastination as I avoid the stacks of textbooks and lecture notes that I know I really should be reading. Revision is a dirty word that must not be uttered in case the crushing despair descends once more.

This is also the part of semester where everything gets confused, you want to feel happy for the upcoming holiday and the chance to see old friends again but on the other hand it’s a bit sad to say goodbye to the people you’ve lived with, especially those you’re unlikely to see again. There’s also that stress I mentioned earlier over whether you have passed the year or if you will get a letter from the University politely asking you never to return. All in all it’s a pretty busy part of semester so I feel completely vindicated spending my time dealing with these issues instead of revising.

Students who don’t live in Perth and that don’t plan on spending the long summer in WA are scrambling around trying to find storage units and trying to pack 50 kgs of stuff into boxes built for maybe half of that. If you’re staying over the summer expect a lot of anxious friends to show up in the coming days with an over-flowing box and an apologetic look on their faces. Gradually your own room will begin to fill up with so much other people’s stuff you will be forced to close the curtains and pretend you aren’t in. Not that I’ve ever done that.

Anyway this summer I will be heading to the UK to see friends and family for the first time in over two years before heading home for a Christmas in Zimbabwe. This will involve a lot of long flights and longer layovers in South Africa but I’m confident it will all work out alright and when things go horribly wrong I’ll be sure to put it up here for everyone to enjoy.

Now I think I’ve spent enough time writing this and it is time to do some actual studying, or I might read a book. Expect to see my assignment entry this upcoming Sunday, I don’t want to give away too much but there is going to be a LOT of chalk in it.