Wonderful Wellington: Our Top 5

As we mentioned in our last post, we were lucky enough to begin our New Zealand adventure in Wellington, hosted by our delightful friends Hollie and Tom. We spent a week exploring the urban wonderland, as well as it’s gorgeous greenbelt and beautiful botanic gardens. We fell in love with this city that’s too cool for school,  and we’ll definitely be back soon.

Without further ado, here’s our Wellington Top 5:

Te Papa – The museum that everyone’s talking about. Really, they are. Why? Because it’s flipping amazing. We acquainted ourselves with this strange new land and its history in the Blood, Earth, Fire exhibition, a well illustrated narrative explaining the origins of New Zealand, from the arrival of the Maori to the exploits of the Europeans, some of them good, most of them not so good in hindsight – let’s leave it there. The Gallipoli exhibition is also well worth a look. Larger-than-life models of service men and women, rendered in eye-watering detail, tell the sad story of the Anzac attempt to take Gallipoli from the Turks in the first world war. Lives were lost, not much was gained, but with an exhibition like this, hopefully lessons will be learned.

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Image courtesy of Te Papa Museum

Goldings Free Dive– Okay, so the beer might be $12 a pint (that’s about £7 with the abysmal Brexit related exchange rate right now), but when you can sip a delicious craft beer  – we can recommend Brew Moon’s The Fuzz – while admiring the star wars bric-a-brac dotted about the place, and eavesdrop on the creme de la creme of Wellington’s hipster crowd, we say it’s worth every cent. Indeed, when the beer’s this good, just have another and you’ll soon stop caring about the hole slowly burning through your wallet.

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Nick is blurry because beer

Pour and Twist – We love espresso. One of the things that Nick misses most from the UK is the espresso machine he trained on at The Gather and making all those delicious flat whites. But Pour and Twist is a coffee shop without an espresso machine and all the better for it. There’s no noise from the hot jets of steam whistling into milk, just peace and quiet and easy conversation. It’s a radical stance to take in Wellington, where cafes can rise and fall on the quality of their latte art, yet it works. A neat menu of speciality drip coffees, where you can choose your bean, your accompaniment and brew method, from the trusty aeropress to old-school drip systems reminiscent of GCSE chemistry lessons, make ordering a coffee an existential crisis. We suggest trying an aeropress brew served up with tonic water. Honestly, the lightness and bitterness of the tonic water works wonders with the coffee, and it’s so refreshing on a hot day. Word on the street is that their cold brew is second to none. We’ll just have to go back and find out.

Shepherd – There’s always an awkward moment when our friends in employment suggest going out for a meal and we cautiously check the menu in case it’s too expensive. At first glance, Shepherd’s menu sent shivers down our spine. We could potentially blow all of our savings in one decadent feast there. But then it gave us shivers of a different kind – what’s this? Home brewed water kefir flavoured with peach and elderflower? A medley of heritage tomatoes served on sourdough bruschetta? Pan-seared asparagus in garlic butter with a slow cooked egg? We were in, no looking back. The meal was made particularly special as we were offered a table in the garden room, surrounded by shrubs and succulents, ferns and vines trailing all around us. Perfection.

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Lashings – Just up the road from Goldings, in our favourite alleyway in Wellington, Lashings occupies the first floor of a corner block on Dixon Street, giving a great view of Te Aro Park and the hustle of the city. But the view isn’t important. The brownies are the issue here. Delicious, home baked slabs of wonder-joy, you can choose between a classic chocolate affair, a sticky PBJ romance or the seductive and ever changing brownie of the day. And then you can cover that warm brownie in whatever you want, as long as it’s from the selection of homemade toppings which include candied pecans, marshmallows, cookie pieces, pretzel shards, salted caramel fudge and more. And then you can get even messier with sticky chocolate or salted caramel sauce and a dollop of homemade pretzel or cereal milk ice cream on the side and stick your spoon in and enjoy. Dessert isn’t a third course here. It’s THE course. Just go.

We could go on and on about how much we love Wellington, but life must go on. We had to say goodbye to this beautiful city, to Hollie and Tom and sail away to the South Island for summer. And here we are, living in a campervan called Bear, exploring this spectacular land. We’ll keep you posted.

Lights Camera Backpack are back on the road!

To the East, to the East, the road beneath my feet,
To the West, to the West, I haven’t got there yet,
And to the North, to the North, never to be caught,
To the South, to the South, my time is running out.

From ‘The Road’ by Frank Turner

 

When do you know you’ve finally settled somewhere? Is it when everything in life starts to fall into place? Your favourite mug at breakfast, every morning; effortless evenings in with friends; the easy familiarity of the once daunting workplace; the satisfaction of routine jobs, taking out the bins, keeping the firewood stocked up, feeding the rabbits; the joy of watching the same garden bloom from tiny seeds to abundant food? Yes, that was when we knew we’d settled down.

For those that don’t know, we took some time out from travelling and spent the last year in Cumbria, out in the wild North West of England. We wintered in Ennerdale Bridge, chilled by the harsh weather but warmed by the people, safe among the mountains, and spent summer out on the coast, living in a castle, of all places. This land became our home, the people our family. Finally we had put down roots and found our place. But all this would come to pass because, in the bleak midwinter last year, we booked one-way tickets to New Zealand for November 2018. There was no way we were going to put up with another winter like that for some time. A trip to the Southern Hemisphere seemed like a brilliant idea.

So here we are, in New Zealand, back on the road. We’ve only been here for about a month we’ve already fallen in love with this beautiful country. Friendly people, awesome scenery and abundant wildlife. What more could you want? That’s right, a burgeoning craft beer scene and top notch coffee culture. Well, it turns out they have that sorted too.

After a four day stopover in Singapore – all familiar streets, hawker centres for mala hotpot to melt our faces all over again, the super-trees all lit up at night, hawker centres for the best laksa we’ve ever tasted, the superbly curated National Gallery and more hawker centres for insanely delicious barbeque pork rice – we arrived in Wellington, its bay stretched out before us, its mountains cloaked in lush greenery hiding mysteries beneath and its short runway causing our Boeing 777 to hit the ground with rather more force than we’d have liked.

Jet-lagged and haggard, Hollie, a friend from way back, met us at the airport. Just for clarity, it was us that were jet-lagged and haggard, not Hollie. And so we spent a week in absolute luxury, hosted by Hollie and Tom, her fiance, enjoying the spectacular views from their hillside home, whiling away the evenings playing board games, reminiscing about the old days in the West Country and looking forward to the new days to come.

Unlike us, Hollie and Tom are respectable(ish) people with respectable jobs, which meant that during the day we were free to explore windy Wellington. Why ‘windy’ you ask? Not because it doesn’t have straight streets – the city is laid out quite sensibly – but because of the incessant wind that batters the place. Sometimes it’s a warm, welcome kind of wind and sometimes it’s a bitter wind from the South, straight from Antarctica, but it’s always there. Fortunately, the best bits of Wellington aren’t on the outside, but in its bars, cafes and museums, so we ducked out of the gales and checked them all out. More on this in our next post.

Stay tuned.


 

Phantassie: Five Weeks of Friends, Food and Fun on the Farm

The hare stops in its tracks, suddenly aware of Nick’s presence. It’s 6:24am on a Friday, and it’s not expecting to see him sitting on the veranda of our shepherd’s hut, waiting for the sunrise. They make eye contact and share a moment of stillness before the hare carries on along the gravel track, past the polytunnels and through the hedge to the wheat field. This moment alone was worth our stay at Phantassie. But a magical moment with a hare isn’t the only reason we’d recommend WWOOFing at this organic veg farm just outside of Edinburgh. In fact, we’d go further than recommend it – if you’re planning on WWOOFing in Scotland at all, it is an essential stop on your journey.

The owners of the farm, Ralph and Patricia, take a stonkingly fair approach to work life balance for a commercial operation. WWOOFers at Phantassie are expected to work 4 days a week in return for accommodation and some of the finest fresh food available in the UK. Work began at 8, a little early compared to other WWOOF places, but a half hour tea break at 10:00am meant this wasn’t a problem. Lunch was from 12 until 1:00pm, plenty of time to devour the daily feasts, and we worked through the afternoon until 4:30pm, usually with a quick cup of tea around 3:00pm to keep us going. Not bad, eh?

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Guy, the ever cheery head gardener and one of the most passionate people we’ve met on our travels, led his band of WWOOFers with pride. He worked insanely hard, but he was never too busy to take time to teach us about organic growing, always willing to share his worldly wisdom and have a good laugh over a cup of strong coffee.

The farm work was varied, always wholesome and with friends. Think the opposite of working in an office and you’ll have a good idea of the working conditions. Sometimes we’d be outside in the big field, planting hundreds of herbs in great rows or hoeing weeds away from long lines of beetroot. Other times we’d work in the gorgeous walled garden, protected, like the plants, from the harsh coastal wind as we hand-weeded rows of fragrant coriander or picked apples from a huge variety of trees, one of which was actually called a Bonzo Dog Doo Da. On one occasion, we had to pick the sweetest little mirabelle plums you’ve ever tasted. This involved Flic climbing the tree and shaking its branches to relieve them of the out of reach fruits. We’d cry “Plum on!” to get her shaking, then “Plum off!” once the bombardment of gages became unbearable and we scrambled around to collect them all. Incredibly, this was considered an afternoon’s good work.

Being Scotland, you’d expect it to rain fairly frequently, but the East coast is blessed with warm weather and clear skies. When that Scottish rain did descend on us, we’d retreat to the polytunnels to sow rows of salad leaves, tend to the out of control courgettes or plant lines of delicate shimonitas, punchy Japanese spring onions.

Our accommodation was a beautifully handcrafted shepherd’s hut, nicknamed ‘The Dascha’ by the joiner who built it due to its Russian architectural influences. Essentially a stripped-back tiny-home furnished with a bed and a desk, we learned the joy of living simply, with just enough room for our meagre belongings stowed away in their right places, and space for one of us to get dressed whilst the other had a bonus 5 minutes’ extra sleep. The sun would rise up to fill the cabin with light each morning and at night we’d sit on our veranda, wondering at the sheer number of stars above us – we often had to remind ourselves that we were in Scotland, not Thailand.

If we weren’t out and about exploring East Lothian’s dramatic coastline, working or sleeping, it’s safe to say we were eating. One of the first things we were told at Phantassie was that we could help ourselves to any of the produce being grown on the farm. “Really?” we asked, “Anything? Even the cavolo nero or the giant crown prince squash?” Guy nodded and smiled, used to these queries. We really were allowed to help ourselves to the abundant crops, whether it was the plump tomatillos ripening in the polytunnel or the plums hanging from the trees. It was all fair game. Obviously, if you knew that cucumbers were in high demand that week and there were only a few on the vines, you wouldn’t take them all, but that’s just common sense.

Our supply of dry goods, bread and jam was kept well stocked by Phil, a long-term volunteer nicknamed the “WWOOF Mum”, denoting his responsibilities at the WWOOF camp which also included preparing accommodation for new WWOOFers, welcoming them to the team and generally keeping the place ship-shape. The rest of our fruit and veg came from the stable, a red whinstone barn where all the wholesale produce was packed. Each day we would stroll up with an empty crate, and fill it with fruit and veg that would otherwise have been destined for veg box schemes, organic grocery stores and some of the swankiest restaurants in Edinburgh. The quality of the produce was astounding. It has left us utterly disappointed, now that we have returned to reality, by the tasteless array of vegetables on offer in most supermarkets. We now seek out organic grocers like pigs hunting truffles, poring over their produce with embarrassing enthusiasm, all thanks to the generosity of Ralph and Patricia.

Perhaps the best part of being a volunteer at Phantassie was the Green Goddess. The Green Goddess is where the magic happens. It’s where friendships are formed, stories are shared and, most importantly, food is eaten. Formerly a mobile breast screening unit, the big metal hut had been kitted out with a just about functional gas cooker, stainless steel sink and handmade wooden banquet table. Worker’s canteen by day, hippy hangout by night, the Green Goddess can be whatever you want it to be.

the green goddess

It might have been a bit grubby from all the muddy wellies and damp from the rain leaking in through the roof, but with shelves stocked full of herbs and spices, saucepans of every size hanging from the ceiling and cupboards full of top quality organic dry-goods, it was a delight to cook up a feast in there. This was lucky, because most days one of the WWOOFers would take on lunch duty, serving a buffet lunch for a working community of anything from 5 to 25 people. We loved lunch duty, even if there were a myriad of dietary requirements to navigate. It gave us a chance to try out new dishes on the ever grateful staff and gain invaluable experience in mass catering. With all the hazards and quirks of the Goddess, like the dodgy oven door and the unpredictable gas burners, we used to joke that a round of MasterChef was nothing compared to cooking in our kitchen. At evenings and weekends, we’d spend ages preparing feasts for our fellow volunteers, baking cakes full of raspberries freshly picked from the garden, devouring it all whilst cracking open a cold can of Tennents.

There was a neat little gang of us at Phantassie, and firm friendships were formed out in those fields. There was Jess, a kind and generous local lass, now a close pal, always up for road trips to nearby seaside towns and French jazz nights in the city; Tim, a swaggering, snickering, extremely talented chef with a thirst for gin, far from his home in New Zealand, finding his feet in Edinburgh; laid back Louis, so laid back that he missed his own leaving party, which went ahead without him, and others, like Phil, Gerda and Ian that were a delight to live and work with. There were local folk too, like Sam, a Scottish nomad with a woolly jumper and his friend, a big souled bearded Mexican whose name we won’t attempt to spell, who would swing by unannounced and stay for dinner. Needless to say, when we all got together, things could get out of hand. The Goddess could handle it though, and the great wooden table seemed incapable of overflowing with beer cans, wine bottles and board games no matter how hard we tried. And, because the standard of cleanliness was already a little dubious, it made the after party clean up even easier!

All things must come to an end, and so it was that in the midst of autumn, we found ourselves saying goodbye to our Phantassie family. Our parting was sad, but it was what WWOOFing was always meant to be: a place where we learnt something new every day, doing good, honest work, eating fine food, all held together with a deep sense of community.

 


 

Not just bagpipes and Irn Bru – why we love Scotland and wish we were Scottish

We can’t stand the drone of bagpipes and, frankly, Irn Bru tastes like sweetened spew. But we do love Scotland. After WWOOFing there for a couple of months, we fell head over heels for Britain’s most Scottish country. It turns out that the rest of the world has too, since a recent Rough Guide poll placed it at the top of a list of the world’s most beautiful countries.

We might be a bit late to the party, but we’re going to throw back a couple of glasses of Scotch and get stuck in with our very own list of why this cold, drizzly land, long ago fought over by the Picts, the Celts, the Romans, and sometimes just angry Scottish clans, has stolen our hearts.

Scotland Wants to be Explored – We grew up in England, where everyone keeps very quiet about how wonderful Scotland is. One fact that no one ever talks about is a little piece of Scottish legislation known as the right to roam. In England, if you want to explore the countryside on foot, you need to stick to the public footpaths and bridleways. Failure to do so will result in an aggressive farmer hurling abuse at you and ruining your day. To top this off, most local authorities appear to neglect the footpaths, so unless you have an OS map, a compass and mad map reading skills, it’s pretty much impossible to work out where they are.

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Nick on a typically well maintained footpath in Shropshire

In Scotland, however, since the 2003 Land Reform Act, citizens and visitors alike have had the right to roam the countryside enshrined in law. Not only does this mean that you can explore the wilds of Scotland with a clear conscience, it also obliges land owners to positively enable passage through their land. As a hiker in Scotland, you can expect to find well maintained stiles, easy to climb fences and unlocked gates. If you see a beautiful river and want a closer look, just stroll on down to it. Fancy wandering through an enchanted looking woodland? Go ahead and wander.

We’ve heard that a lot of international visitors simply don’t believe that this right to roam exists. This is understandable given that many countries have strict property laws and disproportionate measures in place to stop trespassing, such as the possibility of being shot at. But it’s true, and all the details can be found on the Scottish Outdoor Access Code website.

All that roaming can be tiring, and the thought of finding nowhere to sleep out in the wilderness can be a daunting prospect. Not in Scotland though, because you’re free to pitch your tent up wherever you please so long as you leave the land as you found it. If you’re lucky you might find a bothie, a basic mountain lodge, free and open to all for shelter. We’re told that most don’t have running water and you need to find your own fuel if it gets chilly, but it’s comforting to know that the option is out there should you need it. We’ve found that Scottish folk seem far more eager to explore the wild and have a deep understanding of their land. Is it any surprise when it’s so accessible?

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Tunskeen bothy. Photo credit to Geoff Allan @bothiesonabike.com

Lochs, Glens and Bens – We spent a month WWOOFing at Tombreck, helping out on a farm in this friendly community, tucked away between Killin and Aberfeldy in Perthshire, at the foot of Ben Lawers as it sweeps down to Loch Tay. Each morning, as we ate our breakfast of pinhead oat porridge and homemade sourdough toast, we felt the great Ben looming over us, daring us to climb its craggy peak. Most often the mountain would be shrouded in mist, keeping us novice mountaineers at bay, working out in the wet fields instead. Finally a cloudless day arrived, our hosts forbade us to work and sent us up the mountain with a packed lunch and a pair of binoculars.

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The climb was tough, but thankfully National Trust for Scotland keep a well maintained ‘tourist trail’ for those of us who don’t have goat’s legs. As an aside – National Trust  for Scotland do a fine job of managing the land, and we’re always happy to see the iconic NTS road signs pointing out the local landmarks. Anyway, we scrambled up the mountain, taking a good 2 hours to reach the cairn. Standing atop the munro, The Highlands stretched out before us, we were astounded by the wild beauty. Mountains merged with more mountains, each with their own distinct character. Beneath us, roughly to the North, Glen Lyon, known as Scotland’s bonniest glen, lay like an ornate entrance hall to a giant’s palace. To the South, Loch Tay glistened in the sun, its deep waters hiding mysteries never to be solved. We were enrapt, enthralled by the majesty of the mountains. We would have stayed to look upon those views forever, but it was extraordinarily windy to the point that it was unbearable. So we headed back down, windswept and wowed by the sights we’d seen.

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Also worth a mention is Glen Coe, probably the most famous glen. It’s out to the West of Scotland, not quite as far as Fort William and Ben Nevis. The road cuts through the bottom of the valley and makes for a stunning drive. There’s also plenty of easy to reach (and free) parking spots along the route so you can stop off to admire the views and exercise your right to roam wherever you wish.

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Glasgow and Edinburgh: The UK’s Best Cities – It’s not all just wild mountains and lonely lochs in Scotland. It also boasts two of the the UK’s finest cities. Edinburgh, the Scottish capital, comes alive in August for the infamous Fringe, a month long romp of comedy, drama and general lunacy. There’s also an International Festival that takes place at the same time, but sadly for the organisers, this doesn’t seem to have caught on quite as well. We saw 6-7 shows each day for a whole week. That’s a lot of (mostly free) comedy. Out of all that, our 2017 Fringe highlights included Trevor Lock’s Community Circle, a show with no jokes but plenty of audience interaction; Betty Grumble’s in your face feminist, naked cabaret with free lady parts print and Sam & Tom: Unrectifiable, a bonkers sketch show written by two comedy geniuses, thankfully still going strong since we first saw them back in 2012. We saw some dreadful stuff too, but that’s the price you pay for free comedy.

The joy of the Fringe comes not just from the magic of live performance and the sense of community that comes from being part of a challenged, chuckling audience, but from dashing from show to show around the hilly, cobbled streets of old Edinburgh. We watched people make jokes in damp caves, in dark nightclubs at midday and sometimes just in a quiet corner of a pub. By the end of the festival, we knew those streets like the back of our hand.

There is, as most Scottish people like to say, much more to Edinburgh than the Fringe. We’ve been fortunate to see the city post-festival, and with its quiet charm, lamplit streets and laid back nightlife, we have to agree. Even so, for us it is a festival city and all the better for it.

Scotland’s largest city (population 600,000 or a whopping 2,000,000 if you include the suburbs) and the UK’s third largest, is Glasgow. Renowned in England for bad food and bad people, us Southerners have got it all wrong. What we found is a city full of some of the friendliest people in the world. And if there’s anything we’ve learned on our travels, it’s that where there’s community, there’s always good food and drink to be had. Glasgow has a cosmopolitan selection of eateries, organic grocers and watering holes selling a whole lot more than the city’s very own ubiquitous Tennents lager. However, with our budget in mind, we had a coffee in the thriving Botanic Gardens and a picnic of sandwiches and crisps under the trees in the vibrant Kelvingrove Park.

The city also hosts a fine selection of galleries and museums, most of which are free to enter. Our highlight was the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, worthy of a visit for the building’s architecture alone. Beyond that, there were superbly laid out exhibitions focusing on Scottish art movements, as well as collections of art from around the world. The overall tone of the curation, particularly in the exhibition about the emotions and feelings conjured by art, was playful yet sincere, much like Glasgow itself.

Highland Games – No summer trip to Scotland would be complete without attending one of the many Highland Games. Held in towns and villages across Scotland, these festivals are a unique celebration of strength, folklore and food. We visited the Killin International Highland Games, where the action takes place in the wake of several looming mountains, accompanied by the constant hum of bagpipes, often with 4 or 5 pipers piping different tunes, just close enough to each other so that they can all be heard at once. With competitors from far flung lands like Iceland and Hungary squaring up to the Scots, this might as well have been the World’s Strongest Man competition. Hammers were thrown, shots were putted and cabers were tossed, interspersed with folk music dance offs and a ridiculously tough race up and down a hill.

Standing in the drizzle, picking at a delicious Arbroath Smokie (haddock smoked in a big barrel with hessian sacks), watching a bearded highlander tossing a caber, it occurred to us that it couldn’t get much more Scottish than this. But then drizzle turned to rain, the rain became a storm and we bumped into a friendly neighbour who offered us a lift home. Yes, that’s about as Scottish as it gets.

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A Year on the Road – What we’ve Learned from 365 Days of Travel

The 29th August will always be a special day for us. It marks the anniversary of the day we gave up our ordinary lives, packed our essentials, and some not-so-essentials (two person travel hammock anyone?), into our backpacks and headed for the unknown. As the Airbus A380 left the damp tarmac at Heathrow, we had no idea how much our lives would change. Since then, we’ve roamed through Oceania and Southeast Asia and returned to the UK as WWOOFers, learning how to live from the land and exploring our homeland with fresh eyes. If you’d told us this time last year that we’d still be wandering along the weary wild road, living in a little cabin in Scotland working on an organic farm, we’d have said you were crazy. With life turned upside down, and no sign of righting itself anytime soon, it seems appropriate to reflect on what we’ve learnt on our travels so far.

Slow travel is the best travel – Tourists travel quickly. It’s all about seeing the sights, ticking the boxes, exiting through the gift shop. In Fiji, we met folks visiting as many islands as possible, spending just one night at each place before heading to the next beach. Often friends we made had visited 4 different countries before we’d even left the hostel where those friendships were struck up. For us, travel is about taking time to absorb the culture of a place, getting to know the locals and sampling as much of the food as possible. It’s about making a strange land feel normal, forming routines and almost becoming bored with the exotic. Wherever we took our time, whether volunteering in jungle of Koh Lanta, immersing ourselves in the bustle of Penang or farming in the highlands of Scotland, we formed deep connections with the land and the people we met there. These places will remain long in our memories, far longer than the guided tours and coach window photo opportunities.

Coffee is very important – It was all very well saying goodbye to our middle class lifestyle, but we couldn’t leave it all behind. We realised early on that we can’t live without fresh coffee. For the most part, this hasn’t been a problem. Singapore has its typically complex kopi scene, Vietnamese coffee has the power of petrol and the thickness of crude oil and most towns in the UK have at least one cafe that serves a decent flat white (but let’s not get on to the tricky subject of gentrification here). But can you imagine that in some places, people just don’t care about coffee? In Malaysia, cafes don’t serve proper coffee and even have the cheek to charge you extra for a cup of upmarket Nescafe. So it was here that we procured a french press to brew our own coffee, only to find it nigh on impossible to score any fresh beans. Instant coffee is all the rage, with supermarkets dedicating a whole two aisles to the dreadful stuff whilst stocking no real coffee at all. Disheartened, we gave our press away to the Tipsy Tiger Hostel in the hope that it might be of use to some caffeine craving travellers, before heading to the Thai island of Koh Lanta. Lo and behold, here we found the famous Lanta Mart, which sold coffee grown and roasted in Chiang Mai. However, we were living in a bamboo hut in the jungle with no brewing equipment. Lesson learned, we now take our Aeropress everywhere with us. It’s light, robust and makes delicious coffee even with the cheapest beans. Waking up has never been so easy!

Don’t skimp on experiences – Travelling on a budget can make you tighter than a Conservative chancellor reviewing Local Authority funding. That’s ok when it comes to food because we all know that street food is superior to the fancy restaurants, and you find the most interesting people in the cheapest hostels. But when it comes to experiences, like white water rafting in the Upper Navua River in Fiji, diving in the crystal clear waters of Koh Lipe or trekking the mountains from Kalaw to Inle Lake in Myanmar, you have to loosen the purse strings. You may never visit these places again, so put aside financial fears and worries of being a tourist for a few days – it may well be the highlight of your trip.

Don’t always trust your guidebook – It’s cliché for travel bloggers to bash the guidebooks. We have to, given that we’re the underdog in the industry that they rule. But we don’t want to be too harsh here. Our hefty Lonely Planet Southeast Asia on a Shoestring guide was often invaluable when we had absolutely no idea where we were or what we ought to be doing there. Nick also delights in planning adventures, and the guidebook, along with the superb Travelfish website, can be be a rich resource here. But sometimes the guidebooks give places a little too much credit. They over egg the pudding leaving you in a scrambled egg scenario. Take Myanmar, an undiscovered land, according to Lonely Planet. Unblemished by the acne of tourism and cheap to boot. That’s not what we found, as we stumped up huge sums for flea ridden hotel rooms and navigated crowds pouring from their luxury air conditioned coaches wherever they went. What should have been a well planned month of intrepid travel became 4 weeks of overpriced disappointment.

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Always listen to advice – Whether it’s advice from fellow travellers or helpful locals, it always pays to heed their words of wisdom. Many times our plans have changed thanks to insider tips, and our travels have been all the better for it. It’s also become a rule for us to always try food if it’s recommended, and every time this has worked out to be a winner. It gives you the excuse to treat yourself, which is how we ended up buying a dozen slices of gingerbread from the Grasmere Gingerbread Shop and gorging on fried bread with condensed milk in Thailand. Similarly, if a local tells you not to try a dish on the menu because it’s not for tourists, don’t try to be clever and order it regardless. We did this with fermented crab papaya salad in Thailand. With the inedible crab shells and slimy sewage innards, it was the most disgusting thing we’ve ever eaten.

Stockpile Ear Plugs – Ear plugs don’t weigh anything. It’s true. We just tried to weigh a pair on some old scales we’ve found in the kitchen on the farm we’re staying at and they didn’t even register. This means you can stockpile as many as you like, deep down in your backpack and it won’t affect the weight of your luggage at all. Then, whenever you share a dorm with someone that snores like a drunken gorilla with long term sinus issues, you’ll be fine.

Long journeys are usually worth it – How many times we’ve told people we’re heading to the next place and it’ll be a 12 hour bus ride and they reply “That’s a long journey…”, as if to say, it’s probably not worth it, you should just stay at home. But so many times we have found this not to be the case. Take the 11 hour slow train from Inle Lake to Thazi, where the journey truly is the destination, as we passed through astounding mountain passes in rickety old carriages full of friendly faces. Or the 7 hour drive from Shropshire to the Lake District, admittedly mostly on dull-as-ditchwater motorways, but when we arrived in that land of mountains, wow! What a surprise to have lived in England all our lives and to have never known such awesome landscapes and wild expanses. Never overlook the long road.

Sitting on the beach does get boring – Now, don’t get us wrong, we love sitting on the beach. It’s just that sometimes it really does get boring. Of course, take time to sit on the beach and chill out with a beer and a book, but if you plan to do only that you may end up regretting it. Especially with the sunburn, the sand flies and the drunk lads from Leeds. Instead, break up the trips to the beach with a bit of culture or a foodie day, then you’ll really appreciate taking some time out to relax. A holiday isn’t a holiday if you’re always on holiday – that’s what we always say.

Always wear a watch – The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy had it right with the advice to always bring a towel. We use those neat little travel towels that dry off quickly but feel distinctly unsatisfying on the skin. However, what good old Douglas Adams didn’t mention is that the seasoned traveller should always wear a watch. Most obviously, it’s handy to know the time when you have a plane/boat/horse and cart to catch, and you’d be surprised how many hostels and hotels forget the necessity of a clock on the wall. What’s more, when you get on the plane/boat/horse and cart, you’d be surprised how often the pilot/captain/horse driver (?) doesn’t know the time. Having a watch means that you and your fellow passengers will be more likely, but by no means guaranteed, to leave on time. We also recommend getting a watch that tells you the date and the day of the week because travelling can become something of a dateless existence, what with the absence of a real job and any significant commitments.

The worst moments make the best stories – Despite popular opinion, travelling isn’t all wondrous experiences, lazy days and forever friends. No. Frequently it’s overwhelming confusion, frustrating delays and terrible, terrible people. Yet these moments, hellish as they feel at the time, often make the best stories. Oh, how we laugh at the time we volunteered to clean a beach on an island near Langkawi, only to be forced to do hard labour with nothing but cheap noodles and a bumper size tin of peaches to sustain us for a month. Oh, how we chuckle at the time we had to take a night bus from Surat Thani to Bangkok because the devastating flooding meant the night train was cancelled, and our backpacks were completely soaked because the water was so high it flooded the baggage compartment. Oh, how we look back fondly at the time Nick got a crippling UTI in Malaysia, could barely walk out of the hospital, and later proposed to Flic from his sickbed in a haze of drugs and fever (this was actually quite a tender moment, but you get the drift). Do we ever wish we were back home on our reclining sofa, cat by our side, Netflix on the telly? Of course we do, but we’ve fallen hard for the road and we’ll sticking with it for a few years yet…


 

Top 10 WWOOFing Moments

It’s been about 4 months since we decided to WWOOF our way around the UK for 8 months, a decision that puzzled our parents, flummoxed our friends and confused our cat. Driving out of a ubiquitous Aldi car park last week, boot full of our 3 luxury items – chocolate, wine and proper coffee – we noticed that we’d driven 2000 miles since we started out, zig zagging our way up the country from Somerset to the Lake District. Reaching this milestone, it seems like a good time to reflect on the finer moments of our green fingered journey so far.

Picking Up Lambs

Could there be a better way to spend a springtime afternoon than driving across rural Oxfordshire to pick up 4 new born lambs? We sped through the English countryside with our good friend Jeannie to a local agricultural college, full of excitement, eager to meet the orphaned woolly cuties. Everything was ready – their cage, milk replacement, washed out beer bottles with rubber teats – we just needed the lambs. When we arrived and they gambled across the tarmac car park towards us, there was magic in the air. Heading back to our hosts’ beautiful smallholding, with Radio 2 at full blast, Nick sat in the back singing along to ‘Welcome to the Jungle’, accompanied by four very confused sheep bleating to the beat. A joyous moment indeed.

Songs Around the Campfire

Not a single moment really, more a series of moments connected by combustion. We’ve spent many an evening sitting around fires, staring into the flames and contemplating our primitive past. Usually there’s someone, if not our hosts themselves, willing to play the guitar, be it a friendly neighbour, an accomplished resident of a community or even Flic if she’s had a gin or two. Often we have the classics: No Woman No Cry, House of the Rising Sun, Redemption Song, but we had Radiohead in Oxfordshire (very fitting, given the band’s origins), ukulele hits at Old Hall Community in Suffolk, as well as tin whistle tunes and original folk music in Shropshire. Why pay to go to a gig when you can WWOOF for your evening entertainment instead?

Harvesting Leeks

There’s been a lot of weeding to be done everywhere we’ve WWOOFed. We can’t grumble about this – it’s incredibly therapeutic, often essential to the success of more desirable plants and a good opportunity to get to know our hosts and fellow WWOOFers. Even so, it was a pleasant surprise to find out one April afternoon that we’d be harvesting leeks, after hoeing the potatoes, of course. So there we were, out in the field at Old Hall with Richard, a wise oak of a man, sticking our fork into the clumpy, rocky soil, levering up the last of the spectacular spring leeks. Finally, we were pulling something out of the ground that we could eat! And eat them we did, the very next day.

Finding 4 Secret Eggs

Every morning at Long View Farm in Shropshire, we’d wake up, slide into our wellies and wander across the garden to set the chickens free. We loved this so much that we did it before coffee. Sometimes we’d find a few eggs had been laid overnight, but the egg count was suspiciously low for a brood of 13 hens. We guessed that the ladies were hiding themselves away in the tall grass to lay during the day. After work each day we would go on an egg hunt around the field. On one occasion, Flic found a neat pile of 4 eggs in a sheltered patch and carried them proudly back to the farmhouse. Yet on every other search we found nothing. Our host promised us a Cadbury’s Creme Egg for each egg found outside of the hen house but we have yet to receive this reward. Never mind, we’ll be back there soon for sure!

Finding freshly laid eggs in Shropshire

Going Back

Unlike most fellow travellers we meet on the road, we like to plan our trips in great detail. For Nick, making a plan is part of the adventure, embracing the excitement of the expected. The plan doesn’t always work out, however, and we find that having a plan in place often makes it even easier to be flexible. So, when things didn’t go as planned at a farm in Derbyshire – a whole other story – we wrote to two of our previous hosts in Oxordshire and Suffolk to see if we could stay with them again for a couple of weeks each. It was delightful to see our friends again, comforting to fall back in to familiar routines and it gave us a chance to do all the things we didn’t have time to do the first time around. It brought us all closer together and we will never forget that month we never planned. If you’re a WWOOFer yourself, never be afraid to ask to go back – it might be the highlight of your journey!

Cherry tree in bloom at Old Hall Community Suffolk

Partying in Our Dressing Gowns

One of the main reasons for returning to Oxfordshire, besides unforeseen circumstances, was that our host was having a fancy dress birthday party. The theme? 42: Life, the Universe and Everything. If ever anyone was to come up with a theme that left people baffled, it would be Jeannie. Those unfamiliar with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy had no idea how to dress for the occasion. The advice offered was that people could come as things that were meaningful to them, or go down a political, religious or philosophical route. This didn’t help much either. Finally it was suggested that people could just wear a silly hat.

We embraced our inner Arthur Dents and proudly wore our dressing gowns (yes, we are travelling with our towelled robes), as did many other guests. Strolling about the fairy light lit garden, to the roaring sing song fire pit, back inside to the kitchen packed with people, hot nettle soup and fresh bread, cans of Old Speckled Hen hanging in our deep gown pockets, we found the meaning of life.

Tim’s Boat on the Thames

Does your next door neighbour own a boat on the Thames? No? Thought not. We will also never have a next door neighbour who owns a boat on the Thames. But some people do have a next door neighbour who owns a boat on the Thames. If you WWOOF with these people, then by proxy you have a next door neighbour who owns a boat on the Thames. If you are a friendly, community spirited sort of person, it’s likely that the next door neighbour will take you out in the boat on the Thames for the afternoon. A boat with your friends on it. A boat with a pirate flag. If you’re really lucky, they’ll offer you a beer from their beer fridge, and you can drink that beer whilst gliding down the Thames through the heart of Oxfordshire in the sunshine. The same river that Henry VIII used as a watery highway to visit his mistress in Shillingford. On a boat. A boat on the Thames.

Naming A Calf

Bringing the cows back from the top field for milking one afternoon, it seemed that Daisy hadn’t come along with the rest of the herd. Whilst Lorna set to with the milking, Flic and Angela went back to the field to find out what she was up to. Flic spotted her first, sat in a patch of clover below the crest of a hillock, nursing a new born calf. Now, finding a new born calf at Old Hall is a special moment indeed. As the finder of that calf, you earn the right to name it. Once its private parts had been checked, Flic chose the name and called her Clover. She will keep that name for the rest of her life, a gentle imprint of our time spent at that wondrous place.

Clover the calf

Cooking Dinner Off Grid

Cooking in different places takes a bit of getting used to. You have to work out where everything is kept in the kitchen, which lids fit which saucepans and how quickly the oven can burn things. During our time in Shropshire, we were invited to cook dinner over the campfire one evening. We accepted the challenge with no hesitation. Once the fire was burning good and hot, we used a strong and stable casserole dish to cook shakshuka, an Israeli dish that’s all cumin, hot paprika, garlic and onions in a tomato sauce. Raking hot embers out every so often, we kept the pot at a consistent heat and brewed up a spicy stew, topped off with fresh eggs laid by the chickens just beyond the hedgerow. It was much easier than expected, being simplified by necessity, and a real joy to be cooking outside with fine friends in the evening sunshine. We made plans to do it again as soon as possible. Being England in June, it rained every day after that.

cooking off grid

Cats

When we left our old lives behind, saying farewell to our cat was one of the hardest goodbyes. The best thing about living on farms is that there are so many mice, which usually means a cat is a necessity. We’ve had the pleasure of staying with some fine cats, from self assured Cake at Old Hall, wise old (and dribbly) Custard in Oxfordshire and ginger Jingo in Shropshire. Jingo has to be one of the friendliest cats we’ve ever known. When we were working in the garden, he was never far away, even in the rain when he’d retreat to the poly-tunnel with us. At night, he would sleep in our bed, curled up under the duvet, or sometimes just spread out across our pillows. The only downside to having a living hot water bottle was when he started coughing up fur balls at 3.00am…


 

Photographing the Sunrise and Sunset in Bagan

It’s hard to believe that, many centuries ago, there were over 10,000 temples and pagodas in Bagan. Although only about a quarter of these are still standing, Bagan offers an unimaginably beautiful skyline and is quite unlike anywhere else on Earth. The best times of day to photograph this spectacular scene are sunrise and sunset, when the hot air balloons glide soundlessly over the silhouetted pinnacles. Simply stand atop an ancient pagoda, and you’ll have a breathtaking view of the vast, flat plains of Old Bagan and the thousands of temples between you and the horizon.

Easier said than done.

Recent regulations have stipulated that only 5 pagodas can now be climbed, due to tourists committing ‘culturally disgraceful’ acts. These 5 are: North and South Guni, Thitsarwady, Shwesandaw and Pyathetgyi. Whilst these 5 may be the best locations to see the sunrise and sunset due to their height, it is not entirely true that they are the only 5 you can climb. Firstly, North Guni was badly damaged in the 2016 earthquake and is now closed, so that takes you down to 4 locations. Secondly, Thitsarwady is not on Google Maps or the tourist map, and no one we asked had heard of it, so that’s not really an option either. Shwesandaw is the only pagoda easily accessible by road and is therefore bursting with over 1000 (we’re not exaggerating) aging Western tourists, shuffling off of their luxury air conditioned coaches and complaining about having to climb the steep steps. Unless you know how to deal with a broken hip in a country with one of the worst healthcare systems in the world, it’s probably best to avoid Shwesandaw.

Fortunately, there are lots of other temples you can still climb. Although you might not get much more than 20ft high, it’s great fun spending your day zooming around on your bike, finding secret passageways and staircases in forgotten temples. Basically, you are Lara Croft.

The lack of height of these temples is compensated by the fact that there are far fewer tourists there, and the other tourists that do make it to these places are often like-minded, happy to sit quietly and enjoy the peace.

Here are our top locations for viewing the sunrise and sunset in Bagan:

Sunrise

Bulethi

Bulethi is located in the east of Bagan, and we were therefore not expecting there to be many temples between Bulethi and the sunrise. We were wrong. There are temples everywhere in Bagan and Bulethi is in an excellent position to watch the hot air balloons silhouetted against the rising sun. The newly built viewing tower is a bit of an eyesore, but is understandably necessary given the huge numbers of visitors to this heritage site.

There is another temple just a few feet to the West of Bulethi which is technically closed, but we did see a few people climbing it for sunrise. It would probably offer a great view for the sunset (rather than the sunrise, which would be blocked by Bulethi) but we would not encourage anyone to climb temples that are not officially open. There is a polite red sign at the gate that ‘strongly requests’ no one enters, and we suggest you respect this.

sunrise-from-bulethi-bagan-myanmar

Law Ka Oushang

Slightly further along the path from Shwesandaw, you will find a quiet and well positioned temple to watch the sunrise. This offers the added smug bonus of driving past Shwesandaw and the hundreds of tourists already poised with their tripods and zoom lenses at 5am.

Law Ka Oushang is located in the West and therefore has an excellent view across the plains to the East. You can’t climb particularly high, and there are some trees around that may partially block your view, but it is still our favourite place to watch the sun rise in Bagan!

Watch out for the people demanding a ‘money present’ at the bottom of the stairs. You can give a donation if you wish, but bear in mind that it is not an entry fee and is unlikely to go towards maintenance of the temple.

sunrise-from-law-ka-oushang-bagan-myanmar

Sunset

Pyathetgyi Pagoda

The multi-level flat rooftops of Pyathetgyi offer plenty of space and height for great views of the sunset. Find the hidden staircase in the tower at the back left of the building and climb all the way to the top. It’s a bit off of the beaten track, but still attracts some large groups (watch out for coaches trying to squeeze past cows on the dirt roads!). Make sure you get there early and don’t set up a time lapse on your GoPro in a place that people are able to stand in front of.

sunset-from-pyathetgyi-pagida-bagan-myanmarsunset-from-pyathetgyi-pagida-bagan-myanmar

Taung (South) Guni

Easier the get to and much quieter than Pyathetgyi, South Guni is a great place to watch the sunset. There aren’t many temples directly West of Guni, so the sunset skyline isn’t quite as spectacular as it is from some other locations, but you get a great panoramic view of the whole of Bagan. Another plus is that there were only about 20 other people there.

Some people have complained about the kids selling postcards at the temple. Once we made it clear that we weren’t going to buy anything, they were quite happy to show off all of the foreign currency they had collected from tourists over the years. We gave them some post-it notes and they had great fun writing on them and sticking them on each other!

sunset-from-south-guni-bagan

Top Tips

Get there early and stay late

We saw people turning up 5 minutes before the sunrise and complaining that they couldn’t get a good spot. Seriously. You need to get there about an hour before sunrise and about 2 hours before sunset to claim your space, even at the quieter places. Similarly, some people would leave the second the sun dipped below the horizon. Be patient – sometimes the sky looks best after the sun has set.

Be respectful

Remind yourself that these are sacred religious sites, so take off your shoes and socks, dress appropriately, don’t make too much noise and don’t drink alcohol. You’d think this goes without saying, but apparently not.

These temples and pagodas were all built between 11-13 century, and as such are a little rickety. Be aware that there are loose bricks and the stone is crumbling. Don’t cause damage and don’t hurt yourself!

Wrap up warm

The temperature during the day in Bagan might reach the mid 30’s, but early in the morning it can get surprisingly cold. Make sure you have plenty of layers. We’ve even resorted to wearing socks with our flip flops – not a great look.

Make sure your e-bike is fully charged

The battery can run out quickly, particularly if you are sharing a bike and driving on the dirt roads. Most places will offer to recharge the bike for you while you’re having lunch, but make sure they understand that you aren’t just returning the bike early. We picked up a bike after a lunch time ‘charge’ to find the battery lower than when we dropped it off, and subsequently ran out of power on the way back. Towing an e-bike by holding on to it from the back of a motorbike at 50kmph is not the safest way to get back to your hotel. Trust us.

Have plenty of cash

The first thing you will notice when you arrive in Bagan is the demand to pay 25,000MYK for an archaeological zone pass. If you don’t have the right cash in Kyat, you’ll have to pay $20, which is a very poor exchange rate. If you don’t have any cash on you, you’ll be sent back to wherever you came from!

Use a tripod

One of our biggest regrets is not taking a tripod travelling. Some of the best shots can be taken in low light, and slow shutter speeds are necessary to avoid excessive noise. This will result in camera shake unless you have a tripod. It might add weight and take up space in your backpack, but we promise it will be worth it!

Don’t be shy of Photoshop

We battle with the ethics of using Photoshop on travel photos. For Bagan, we reason that the photographs taken here are for the sole purpose of looking beautiful, so it’s not totally unethical to take the sunrise sky from Law Ka Oushang and lend it to the view from Pyathetgyi Pagoda. Especially when it looks this good…

bagan-sunset