My misadventures in Australia 2012

I don’t know exactly what possessed me to travel half way across the world on a whim without doing adequate research beforehand as this was out of character for me.  I suppose I went there to mend my fragile heart, and while I did get the inevitable cathartic experience, as solo travelling forces that upon you, I also had freak weather shadowing what I know could have potentially been an unforgettable trip, despite my emotional state.  Not wanting to fall into the pity trap, I tried my hardest to make the most of my experience while out there.

My first stop was Sydney, where I stayed on Macquarie Street at the Quay Grand Suites, a stone’s throw from the Opera House and the Royal Botanic Gardens.  This was my home for a few days, where I was able to freely explore the city’s cultural offerings.  I spent an afternoon wandering around the infamous Rocks area, a quaint part of town full of cute little boutique shops and wonderful bars with appealing interiors (my guilty pleasure, I must admit).  One evening I caught a ferry to Manly, a surf beach lined with trees that looked unusually like conifers as opposed to palm trees, and innumerable bars.  In my search for an adrenaline hit, I joined a group tour and spent an afternoon on Sydney Bridge – I actually climbed the bridge, safety harnesses in place and dressed in an embarrassing light grey boiler suit!

The Great Barrier Reef is made up of nearly 3, 000 individual reefs, around half have names, while the others are known simply by a five-digit number.  I chose to stay on Hamilton Island in Queensland as it had easy access to the breathtakingly beautiful Whitsunday Islands.  Unfortunately, I returned home without seeing the Barrier Reef due to the adverse weather conditions.  So there was no snorkeling trip to Chalkies beach, no water sports trips, or an afternoon lazing around Whitehaven Beach soaking up some rays.  The furthest I got was Catseye Beach, which turned out to be full of jellyfish!  As the rain persisted, outdoor water activities were ruled out, so I mostly spent my days listening to music on my ipod, walking barefoot in the rain for miles and miles, (flip flops caused a few nasty slips on the wet tarmac, so I quickly learnt that wearing no shoes was a far more practical option), sipping cappuccinos by the Marina, and participating in the spinning classes at the resort’s gym.  Other than that, I also went to the shooting range one morning and got to ‘play’ with a .22 calibre rifle and pistol.  It felt good, especially when I hit the target ten feet away!  When I ran out of ways to entertain myself in the rain, I decided it was time to return home as the weather showed no signs of clearing up.  So I left a week early, but I have plans to go back, and next time I want to share my experiences within a longer time frame and travel more extensively, be it with a friend, or a partner.  It’s too beautiful not to share the experience, and so damn chilled out there – it’s the perfect contrast to London life.  I have already chosen the hotels – a self contained apartment in Darling Harbour, which was my original choice, and one night at the exclusive luxury retreat of Qualia on Hamilton Island, or perhaps a few depending on how full my pockets are on my next visit!

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Embracing a new start in Belize 2012

When I thought about my expectations of Belize, the country conjured up images of turquoise waters, miles of sandy beaches, beautiful diving and snorkeling sites, jungles and Mayan ruins.  I almost stepped foot in the country while I was living in Mexico aged 19, and had loosely planned to go there via Guatemala, but ran out of time.  Following a stressful 2011 after the death of my father, I decided the perfect way to kick start January 2012 would be to fly out to Belize for a week, to chase some rays and recharge my batteries whilst being among nature.  So off I flew, and three flights later I landed in the sleepy fishing village of Placencia, in Belize.  My home for that week was Turtle Inn, the brainchild creation of Francis Ford Coppola, which consisted of nineteen beautifully crafted cabanas of bleached thatch and native wood, decorated with furnishings inspired by Balinese culture.  The hotel was suited more to honeymooners than for a thirty plus year old single woman, I later found out – but no matter, it was only for a week and hardly an issue as I actually met some lovely attached people out there.

I arrived truly exhausted and in desperate need of a wash, as one does after long haul flights, so imagine my amusement when I discovered I not only had an indoor bathroom, but an outdoor shower too, and baptized the latter one immediately, then headed out to town and planned some activities for the week that would see my stresses slip away, and stretch beyond the confines of the hotel swimming pool and the beach.  I cycled in on an old fashioned bicycle with no hand brakes, only a peddle which I had to turn anticlockwise to brake, an interesting technique to say the least, as I had never encountered these two wheelers before.

The first activity I booked was a boat trip along Monkey River, where I spotted black howler monkeys en route, crocodiles by the water’s edge, turtles, and a solitary yellow / green iguana perched up high on the branch of a tree, basking in the thirty degrees heat!  The next stop was Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary, and not one animal in sight with the exception of various kingfisher birds along the river; I was disappointed not to spot any jaguars that so many people had mentioned lived within the confines of the sanctuary, so moving on from the animals, the highlight of that trip was the river tubing.  The aforementioned activity involved not quite a tube, but something akin to a car tyre minus the ridges, into which I sunk my slender body, with feet and head sticking out on either side of the so called tube.  And into the river I went, chilling in the sun with the gentle current of the water carrying me effortlessly upstream.  A word of warning though, to reach the site I had to trek through miles of sludgy mud!  I followed in the footsteps of our guide and ended up removing my Converse shoes and going barefoot in the mud as the grip was better, and thankfully I was only wearing shorts, so the mud that rode all the way up my legs was easily removable.  Preceding the tubing, I swam under a beautiful waterfall, felt the water spray me, and then come crashing down on my body, cooling me from the intense heat of the sun, and really feeling the full force of the water – pure bliss.

The penultimate day of my trip I signed up for a visit to Laughing Bird Caye, a world heritage site renowned for its snorkeling and diving.  Having previously been accustomed to seeing live lobsters in miniscule fish tanks at Spanish restaurants, I was pleasantly surprised to come across a few in the wild waters of the Caribbean sea in Belize.  But the biggest shocker of the day was having an eagle ray swim by within a less than a metre of me, fortunately, without stopping to explore me!  I, on the other hand, just floated on the water playing dead, completely paralysed, but less out of fear and more in awe of the creature I had before my eyes.

Physical activities such as swimming, cycling and trekking were counter-balanced by holistic therapies; on one occasion I opted for a Thai massage out of curiosity, and had my body stretched and contorted in many positions I never even thought possible.  By the end of the week, I felt like my batteries had been recharged, and even though I had blown all of my savings in the space of a week, it was without a doubt the best investment I had made in months, as I was able to piece my body and soul back together in such an incredibly short space of time.  Plus money can always be recouped at a later date in future!

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Sailing the seas in Mozambique 2011

I have been fortunate enough to have visited Africa several times in the past fourteen years, with both my immediate and my extended family, on safari around Zimbabwe, Namibia and Botswana, and every trip has left me hungry for more visits.  This time I opted for a water based travel adventure, which took me to Mozambique.  I flew direct to Nairobi where I paid $10 to have my passport stamped for my visa, then connected onto Pemba via Maputo, where visas were an entirely different affair.  I was photographed, and fingerprint samples were taken, before being told to hand over $70 to the officials and waited about ten minutes for a print-out of my visa with a miniature portrait of myself attached.  After that I was ready for phase three of the journey, a four hour drive that led us straight to a beach in the middle of nowhere – including a challenging walk along the beach with a wheelie suitcase and local children following us (I went with a party of five, a family from South Africa) – and straight onto a dhow, which is their version of a sailing boat.  The dhow took us to Mogundula Island, and we sailed the sea as the sun was setting on one end of the horizon, and the moon rose on the other side.  It was a beautiful sight to behold.

My first night on Mogundula Island was a restless affair in a tent that almost toppled over with the force of the rain and wind at 4am.  Fortunately, by 6am, the weather had cleared and we were all able to go snorkeling in the aqualine waters, returning for an evening meal of locally sourced, grilled kingfish and crayfish served by the campfire.  This was only supposed to be a two night stay, but the strong gale force winds and persistent nightly showers meant the sea was too rough to leave the island, so we got stuck on the island an extra night.  I could not help feeling like time had come to a standstill on the island, with the bad weather chasing us into our sleep, and also throughout the day at intervals. 

Ibo Island on the Quirimbas Archipelago was the next, much anticipated stop  – with a population of only four thousand people and made up of twenty three islands.  It had been a major trading centre in previous centuries, when Africa’s east coast had been controlled by Arabs, and then later became a Portuguese colony.  Admittedly, not quite what I had envisioned as it was incredibly rundown and in need of repair, but the lodge itself was housed in a magnificent and beautiful historic mansion that had been renovated with teak furniture and boasted huge rooms and high ceilings.  Staying in Ibo Lodge was like stepping back in time, with electricity being supplied by their own generator and available only for about eight hours a day, no television (fantastic for getting those creative juices flowing), and water filtered and supplied by nature’s rain.

After a night of restful sleep on Ibo Island, we set off at 9am on a dhow for a snorkeling trip that exposed us to a wonderful underwater world full of beautiful red starfish, clownfish, lion fish with what looked like wings on either side of their bodies, puffa fish (always an amusing sight), giant sea urchins, and also sea cucumber, which around the islands are apparently a valuable commodity – mighty ugly beast of a creature too!  Kayaking was next on the agenda in the late afternoon.  The views were breathtaking, I was so upset I didn’t have my camera on me.  We saw some beautiful black and white birds swimming close to the surface of water, in the direction of the setting sun.  It would’ve been such an amazing picture to capture on camera.  Even the flying fish put on a show for us.

The morning I was due to go back home, I wasn’t even sure I’d leave the island due to adverse weather conditions, but I got lucky and only the afternoon flights were cancelled.  I got to ride up-front next to the pilot on a 5-seater plane to Pemba airport, mesmerized by the view.  As we were flying in the air, I remembered how as a child I used to look out of the plane window and believe I could really touch the clouds and stand on them, that they’d be all fluffy and I’d float on them – all very magical.  Obviously this was long before I discovered that clouds are formed by condensation when the water vapour in the air is cooled, and had I tried to walk on clouds in reality, I would have simply fallen right through them and to a nasty death!

I arrived early at Pemba airport, and turned out to be the only white girl there, but for once I wasn’t hassled by any of the locals, much to my relief.  I sat down and waited for my connecting flight, replaying the moments that made my trip, and recalling that the purpose of it had been to go in search of solo time, to just breathe and escape a confusing relationship I had got myself caught up in.  I fulfilled my purpose, I gained more clarity while away, and ended the relationship, feeling much happier as a result.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

African Conservation Experience 2010

Imagine this: back to basics at its finest - I spent the first two weeks of my month in Africa in a tented bush camp with an outdoor bathroom composed of mud walls and no roof or door to speak of, and no hot water without building daily fires.  Temperatures dropped so dramatically at night that I often went to bed wearing two hoodies, thermals, tracksuit bottoms, socks, and even a woolly hat on one occasion!  There was no electricity, meaning that my evening meals were often shared with enormous moths and dung beetles.  It felt a bit like I was living in a commune, where everyone chipped in with the household duties and at mealtimes, and where creative improvisation was the norm, due to lack of basic resources that we take for granted in the UK.

The Hanchi Conservation Project involved 6am starts and me relearning everything concerning equine husbandry, tack and yard maintenance.  This primarily consisted of two hours of horse riding a day, and a hell of a lot of shit shovelling!  So my days were mostly filled with collecting horse manure from the stables and paddocks and making repeat trips to the shit heap, and then tipping the wheelbarrow, with much care needed to not tip it down the sides.  Not quite what I had in mind, though I did develop some biceps good enough to rival She-Ra any day!

Apart from the ubiquitous manure picking, I was fortunate enough to experience the advantage of having a roofless bathroom, and to catch sight of a beautiful sky full of stars every night.  I tracked cheetah and leopard, did some bushwacking with the aid of a machete (and almost whacked my own boot in the process, on one occasion!), and saw wild antelope.  I also went on an amazing helicopter ride, which was akin to a mini safari in the air.  I could not stop smiling to myself, it was such a thrill.  That aside, I also spent a great deal of time daydreaming in between, about buying a French bulldog and relocating to the coast to be by the sea.

My second placement at the animal rehabilitation project took a whopping eleven hours to reach by car, and involved an overnight stay at a hostel in Johannesberg to break up the long drive.  This part of my trip felt like more of an adventure as I had the opportunity to work with serval cats and a wild caracal, even taking them out for walks on leads every day; less enjoyable was getting dead chicks out of the freezer every day for their meals, especially being a vegetarian.

Responsibilities at the rehabilitation centre involved a few nights sleeping out with a warthog appropriately named Pumba, who turned out to be quite an escape artist and needed constant monitoring to curb his destructive tendencies.  My surreal nights with Pumba were spent with him wrapped in a sleeping bag next to me.  I also worked with a crow who needed to be let out of his cage every day for exercise - he made a habit of pecking at all my clothes and generally being annoying for exactly twenty minutes, and then would turn into sweetness personified after said minutes, allowing me to stroke his head and neck, and even falling asleep on my lap on a few occasions.

In Africa, natural resources are milked to their fullest, so no fruit flies in jars for the chameleon’s meals, oh no, I actually had to hunt for flies myself, and place the little reptile (the size of my index finger) in front of a fly on the wall, and wait for him to stick his tongue out and zap the flies one by one until his hunger was satiated.  Working so closely with this creature, I observed that George the chameleon had funny eyes that rotated round to the back of his head without him rotating his body.  I tried to imagine what it would be like if humans could do that.  Some food for thought.

Some funny moments (in hindsight) at the Centre involved the vervet monkey escaping out of his cage and being chased by Pumba, which I can only presume must have almost given the poor thing a heart attack, even with his good tree climbing skills.  Other escapees included one of the serval cats, who decided to stay stuck up a tree until dark.  I also had a giant tortoise pee all the way down my leg and even leave a trail a few metres long on the ground behind him, and me, for that matter.  You see, I meant it when I said this tortoise was big.  Riley the bushbaby, at only 1kg in weight and a mass of grey fur was quite possibly the ugliest animal I have ever seen, but that also made him the cutest.  He looked like a cross between a chinchilla and a gremlin, with monkey hands and feet and moved like a sloth, which was not very much due to his back injury.  Another comical moment was having six son conures (birds) all flock at me at once, with a few quite literally stuck on my head/hair.  I had to jump up and down to tear them away.

A question I have frequently been asked since I got back, is if I would do it all again.  And the answer to that is that while it was an unforgettable and really quite unique experience, I don’t think doing it again would be the same.  And so my search begins once again for my next adventure.  Wherever next will life take me?!  I quite like the idea of working with orangutans in the Malaysian Borneo.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Icelandic adventure 2009

Iceland Undiscovered conjured up images of the infamous Blue lagoon, the Northern Lights, and snow tipped mountains in Winter, but what I actually saw and experienced when I spent five days in the country was a lot more than I bargained for.  With the added bonus of discovering a very cool, relatively unknown Icelandic band called FM Belfast who sing a hilarious song titled ‘Underwear’ - a definite “must listen to”!  We also sampled their local coffee at a cluster of very sophisticated retro style coffee shops in Reykjavik, that turned into trendy bars by night.  

Lisa and I had a lot to pack in those five days, especially given that in Iceland the sun only emerges at around midday in Winter, and the sky is dark by 4pm.  Our first mini adventure involved renting quad bikes.  I got so carried away with speeding that my bike almost tipped over, but the thrill of the speed was priceless, minus the heart attack that was almost incurred when I felt I was going to top the side of the mountain.  On day two, we went pony trekking; Lisa managed to fall off her pony, even though it was possibly the dopiest one of the group and aptly named Marley, which was part of the problem.  He was walking so slowly and distractedly that he managed to trip up, which sent Lisa to the ground, rather gracefully I might add. 

Beauty spots were witnessed just beyond the city, where we visited the Gullfoss waterfall and saw the mesmerising Geysir, where the water would bubble at surface level, then every few minutes it would erupt to form a massive volcano of water hundreds of metres high.  This was followed by an evening in the Blue Lagoon where the water temperature was thirty eight degrees.  There were not many visitors when we went and it was a somewhat surreal experience - even though the lagoon was lit from up above, you would swim out and as the light faded, it felt like you were swimming into infinity.

I always had this preconception that Huskies originated from Iceland, but they are in fact imported from Greenland; our dogs were lovely and affectionate, and apparently nothing like the ones found in Greenland!  Due to the sub zero temperatures, Lisa and I were given what can only be described as thermal boiler suits and gloves for the dog sledding.  Lisa was unfortunate enough to get the extra large size which was far too big for her small frame, and the wind almost blew her away in what effectively turned into an inflatable Michelin man suit.  In fact, we almost both got blown away, and practically ate all the black volcanic sand in the process. 

The local bus trips from the city back to the hotel were something of a five star affair, not because we were staying in some luxurious abode and had the privilege of a private mini bus, but try to imagine this - a red London bus dropping you off not at the bus stop, but actually right on your doorstep!  That would never happen back home, but it actually did in Iceland.  Admittedly we were the only two people on the bus, but still, bus drivers in London would never be that nice.  It was definitely a moment to remember.  There were many…

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

A taste of magical Morocco 2008

Morocco, land of abundant corn - that was the solitary image I had of the country after reading my grandmother’s book detailing her experiences of living in North Africa in the 1950s.  Though I hasten to add that throughout my time there and after clocking up many miles on the road, I never did spot any corn husks.  Instead the country greeted my mother, brother and I with its market charms at Jamaa el Fna, in Marrakesh, where tourists flocked to see the snake charmers, fortune-tellers, musicians and tooth pullers with variously sized human teeth lined up on tables.  Further inside the medina were souks selling ‘babouches’ (pointy slippers), kaftans, rugs and leather goods in between the apothecary stalls, leaving a trail of pungent aromas behind them.

I cannot write about Marrakesh without mentioning the Riad Mehdi, our base for the few days we were in the city.  The hotel was dimly lit with candles and narrow, winding corridors throughout, which gave it the air of an upper class bordello, and provided an intimate setting that felt slightly surreal.  Add to that the lack of natural ventilation, and the fact that the spa, located in the central courtyard was communal and you could see all the clients having massages from your hotel room, and it made for a trippy experience that gave it all the more charm.  

Just outside the walled medina of Marrakesh lies the beautiful Jardin Majorelle, originally opened to the public in 1947 by the painter Jacques Majorelle, and later acquired and restored by the couturier Yves Saint Laurent.  It boasted an abundance of plants spanning five continents, and included orange groves, cacti, bamboo, palms, water lilies, lotus and papyrus, to name just a few.  In search of more culture, we stepped further outside of the city and spent the day taking in the Roman ruins of Volubilis, perched up high between the valleys and mountains.  The ruins included the house of Orpheus, which contained a very sophisticated network of plumbing and heating systems, the vomitoriums (bulimia abounded in Roman times!), some beautifully well preserved mosaics, and a Roman olive factory.  The Forum was the centre of life in Volubilis, with the arches of the Basilica and the columned Capitol still standing. 

After a day of intensive sightseeing and culture, I decided to go for the Hamman, which though incredibly weird was also quite relaxing.  It involved me lying on my back in a heated room, in the nude, with a lady pouring buckets of hot water over my body (the best bit), followed by exfoliation, massage and more buckets, with water going up my nostrils on more than a few occasions.

A few days were spent in the Riad Fes Hotel, located in the heart of Fes, which dated from the 1930s and was the former residence of the noble Fassi family.  From here we explored the ceramic tile factory, where we witnessed men carving art forms on plates and making mosaics.  We also visited the tannery, where all the leather was dyed, and walked through holding a bunch of mint leaves we were given to ward off the pungent smells.

Our next port of call involved a long day of driving as we passed Erfoud, near the Algerian border, Merzonga, and through the Atlas mountains until we reached the Ksar Jallal, located in a village right on the edge of the Fezna oasis with views across the desert to the mountains.  There were only six rooms in the hotel, so it felt more like a private residence, and was high on tackiness rankings, but it nonetheless had its charms, and the real beauty was its location.  Less pleasant, but somewhat surreal to see, was a sandstorm we encountered on the drive to the hotel!  We also experienced extremes of temperature from 7 degrees in the morning, right up to 27 degrees in the desert later on in the day.  Unfortunately, I was left to capture the beautifully shaped mountains in my memory as my camera just didn’t do them justice.  There are places I find can be like that – no photograph you take can truly capture the beauty of nature, even with the aid of Photoshop (which I don’t particularly like anyway)!

Overall it was a truly magical experience, especially being in the desert, rising at sunrise and walking along the sand dunes with camels by our sides.  And  here is a bit of useless information to end this with, as I am full of these – apparently Moroccan camels have two humps instead of the more common one hump.  In more eloquent terms, a camel with one hump is called a Dromedary Camel,  and one with two humps is a Bactrian Camel, which is native to the Gobi Desert in Mongolia, whereas the former is more common in the Middle East.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre

Doing the locomotion in Sri Lanka 2007

A year on, the travel bug resurfaced and took me to my next travel destination, which I chose to be Sri Lanka, where I joined a tour group for two weeks.  I got off on a bad start, as almost as per usual, I set off the x-ray machine with my studded belt at the airport, then in my half-asleep state managed to get off the plane at the Maldives (Sri Lanka was the second stop, but I'd missed the announcement on the plane as I had been asleep).  I ended up asking a few people which country I was in as the sign bearing the name of the airport was really rather meaningless to me in their native language.  Good thing I had my intuition to go by and got back on the plane, or I would not have made it to Sri Lanka!

I must admit I felt like a non-stop locomotive on the trip, except on the last few days where we chilled on the beach, but am so glad we packed in all the beautiful sights.  Having said that, all those 6am starts left me feeling like I needed to hibernate for a week in bed when I got back home!  But I mastered the art of getting ready in a record breaking fifteen minutes, so all was not lost.

I was shocked to see so many military soldiers dotted about in one country (Tamils), I had never seen such was a bizarre sight, and it was so unexpected, but fortunately, their presence felt safe and unthreatening while we toured Sri Lanka.  Equally bizarre and worth a mention was the high security at the temples.  I got searched 4 times (here comes the bizarre shock factor), and had my breasts groped, and I mean REALLY groped by a big, butch looking female guard.  Others in the tour group had similar experiences, so we came to the conclusion that she was an undersexed and overly horny lesbian, and laughed about it later.

I saw so many beautiful sights in the two weeks I was there, that it would be impossible to write about it all, so I have mentioned some of my highlights instead: Anuradhapura, an absolute must-see, with its beautiful reclining Buddha, surrounded by cheeky monkeys everywhere.  The Dambulla Caves were home to five rock temples containing innumerable statues of the Buddha and other deities, as well as some murals that really blew me away.  Aukana, another highlight, was the site of a twelve metre high reclining Buddha.  In Sigiriya I climbed the Victorian metal spiral staircases that lead to the Sigiriya Damsels, with frescoes in beautiful earthy colours showing around twenty bare-breasted nymphs floating on a sea of clouds, all very sensual art.  I was also quite fascinated by the wood carving factory, simply because you saw how natural colour dyes were created through chemical reactions, which was an eye opener.  The elephant safari, just to experience an open topped safari, was also worth the experience, with wind blowing in my face and hair as I rode standing!

Did you know that white pepper is made by pouring boiling water over black peppercorns?  That was news to me.  I learnt it on an ayurvedic tour of a spice garden.  Pepper trees are actually green, and the black pepper we get comes from them being dry roasted in the sun. I never really thought about the origins of their colour until I went there.

Adam's Peak, apparently one of Sri Lanka's most revered pilgrimage sites, involves climbing up 9600 steps to the summit, which amounts to five hours of walking.  I couldn't drink in all that time as there were no pit stops.  I compulsively chewed gum instead, as an alternative illusory thirst quencher, like a cow munches grass all day long.  By the time I reached the top, I felt like I'd dislocated my jaw from all that chewing.  It was the longest and hardest trek I've ever done, and I'm supposedly pretty fit; those steps felt never ending, but despite severely sunburnt shoulders and an incredibly numb pair of legs, I'm glad I reached the top of the summit, and it made me really appreciate our final destination, the beach.

Unawatuna, our final stop, and site of a beautiful beach.  I've never been very tolerant of the heat and get bored sunbathing, but I love the ocean.  It was so, so peaceful and a brilliant way to end the trip.  I chilled in the sea a lot, and joined in the activities such as volleyball, badminton and football on the beach, with the younger crowd on the beach.  I also visited a turtle conservation farm for the first time in my life, and had the opportunity to hold a turtle smaller than the palm of my hand, and only a few days old, which was a memorable moment.  Overall, I had some lovely experiences on the group tour in Sri Lanka, and I'm glad I went, but I think I prefer independent travel best - I've just got to find my ideal travel partner with the same flexible work hours as me now!

That's all folks...more on my next travels.

© Copyright Vanessa Sicre