“Typhoon Gaemi” has hit Taiwan. The government have announced closures so work’s cancelled and we all have to stay inside for the next couple of days. From my window, as I type, I can hear hail smashing against the metal roofs opposite and the odd massive gust of wind that rumbles down the street; threatening to tear the fronts from all of the buildings. It’s crazy. Luckily, I’m a cheap bastard and have pre-made meals in my freezer and a load of instant noodles squirrelled away. Time to settle in and ride it out.
So, what better a time than to get all of my pictures and stuff sorted.
Last year I wrote about the process of getting here, the journey, the quarantine, a bit of the COVID-19 situation, global politics, we even had a nice little tour of Taichung and some of the further afield places that I’d visited. It had been a big year of uproot and change but ultimately it was really exciting (the year was exciting, not the post). This year, despite typing this with hurricane force winds outside, I don’t have anything that’s as new and exciting. So, for this one, I’m just going to give a bit of an update about life and then load up a load of pictures of some outings and some stuff that I’ve been up to.
The yearly medical check
Updating my details at the bank took over an hour
The photo-booth that took me 2 days to find
This year, it’s all been a bit more calm, settled, this was the year that I’ve got into DIY. I’m in the same flat, but, I’ve made a few improvements; I bought some new furniture and stuff. I’m seriously considering getting a hand dryer for my bathroom and one of the sci-fi Japanese toilets. I bought a soap dish! Who have I become? It’s like the Two-Face quote in Batman, “You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become a house-proud cunt”. The first year was the crash landing on Mars, the second was the year I got a system going. Not quite Matt Damon growing potatoes in his shit, but there’s certainly a bit less turmoil in my life.
Works been going pretty well as well. I’ve got more than 2,500 teaching hours under my belt now and, because of the short-term nature of the contracts here, having renewed my contract for what will be my third year, I’m one of the old guard.
Being an old guard has meant that, almost by default, I’ve gone from an NST (Native Speaking Teacher) to an HNST (Head Native Speaking Teacher), which I really appreciate, but, it’s as Gareth Keenan as it sounds, my days haven’t changed much.
I got an award as well. This was great fun, I got to go up to a massive conference centre in Taipei to pick it up. Then I did a quick speech about it at the end of year meal back in Taichung.
I got to be a judge at the annual ECC (English Competence Competition). This was a whirlwind. 36 students, 36 prepared stories, 36 improvised stories. All to be ranked within the space of 45 minutes in a number of different categories. A lot of pressure but only a fraction of the pressure that some of the competitors had put on them.
Someone would have stolen that if we were in England
Throughout the year I’ve kept a note of the times that I’ve said, “Look at that, someone would have robbed that if we were in England”. It still blows my mind that people just leave their scooter keys in the ignition, with their helmet and gloves and stuff. Students leave their school bags and all of their equipment on shelves outside the school, ready for their return later. Claw machines leave the prizes on the top of the machines, ready to replenish if someone wins (these claw machine shops are usually unstaffed). If you’re working in a shop and need a piss, sure, just leave your laptop and stuff on the table, of course they’ll be there when you return. It’s incredible to see.
Sports
I’ve managed to get to a few sports games this year. Baseball itself is still shit but it’s all the stuff around it that’s fun. I love how the Taichung Brothers fans do a silent kind of Macarena dance to motivate their team. En masse it looks great, like a Poznan.
I tried to watch a football match, look at how good the league info’ looks on Google. There’s even a Wikipedia page. When I showed up however, the pitch was about the size of the astro-turf at my old school. No seats or anything and nowhere to buy tickets. Chances are, knowing myself, I went to the wrong place. If any of you reading have been to a Taiwan Premier League game, please get in touch.
And, last thing about football, check out the 10 New Taiwan Dollar coin… these remind me of the promotional coins that Sainsbury’s made for the 1998 World Cup, specifically the Andy Cole coin.
Workers
Jobs around town have two extremes. There are either way too may people for the job…
…or no people at all.
Taichung’s hardest worker
Mid-Autumn Festival
I was lucky enough to be invited to a barbecue for Mid-Autumn Festival by a mate from work. Although I still don’t speak Chinese, everyone was really friendly. No frozen burgers here or rubbish little sausages, the amount of effort with the food was incredible. He’s off doing his compulsory army service now but hopefully he’ll be finished by festival time later in the year.
Dogs
Meet the dogs from around my area. Big Boy, Marty, Chunk, Natty, The Haunted Dog, and Dave are the celebrities, the others are just bonus.
Chunk
Big Boy
Natty
The Haunted Dog
Dave (She’s an honorary dog)
Marty (aka Family Marty)
Christmas
For Christmas we went out to the Shalu district to get the nighttime view of town. Turns out there were some massive beautiful dogs there so we had a bit of a photoshoot.
Dakeng trails
This year I managed to get out to the tougher trails (1-5). The trekking is hard going at the start but once you’ve reached the top it’s really nice.
Rainbow village
No need to break into The Rainbow Village anymore (see last year’s post). The renovation is now finished and I even had the privilege of meeting Rainbow Grandpa before he passed.
Taichung Jazz festival
Every October, around the Calligraphy Greenway, Taichung has a big jazz festival and artists from all over the world come to play. Everyone sets out lovely little picnic blankets which end up covering the whole area. It’s a really nice peaceful thing. I tried to get a photo from above (there’s a perfectly positioned carpark at the top end) but they’d blocked out all of the views from the car park.
Chiayi and Alishan
For the first few days of Chinese New Year we headed out to Alishan. It was so beautiful but so cold. We decided to take the Alishan Forest Railway out to Zhushan to watch the sunrise, and even though it was really busy it was still freezing. From Zhushan station (the highest altitude train station in the country) you can walk around and take in views of all of Taiwan’s tallest mountains, it’s amazing. If you go, when you arrive at Zhushan I recommend making the effort to trek up the hill for about 20 minutes or so. You get the best views and you get away from the crowd. We made the mistake of hanging around too long at the top, but, luckily there was a park ranger type guy that gave us a lift back into Alishan. If he didn’t show up we would have had to walk. The trails around Alishan were really beautiful as well, I loved this trip. The last pictures are of our bus breaking down on the way back to Chiayi, and then us being picked up by a “replacement” bus that was about a quarter of the size.
Tainan CNY Lantern Festival
For the second half of Chinese New Year we went to Tainan to watch the lanterns, see the fireworks and have an explore. The yellow papers at the end are bundles of fake money that people burn as offerings; sending fortune to passed loved ones.
Tainan Art Museum
This gets its own title and block of pictures. Swipe to the end for an expert bit of vandalism.
Sun Moon Lake
Sanyi
We wanted to do the pedal ride things on the old railway but it turns out you need to book way in advance. We ended up having a nice day regardless but we’ll be back here soon for sure.
Xitou and The Monster Village
This was a bit of a trek from Taichung but well worth it. Lovely clean air and plenty of peace and quiet. The Monster Village is a bit of a tourist trap, but the history is actually pretty cool.
“There is actually a cute story behind the Xitou Monster Village (Mandarin: 溪頭怪物村 or 松林町). During the Japanese colonial era in Taiwan (1895-1945), a Japanese man named Kubota (久保田) was the head a Taipei university forestry institute in Xitou. He became close friends with a Taiwanese man Matsubayashi (松林勝一).
After WWII, Kubota returned to Japan and opened a bakery. Years later, his wife died in a bakery fire. Matsubayashi sent some money to Kubota when he heard. Kubota made a wooden sculpture for Matsubayashi in return, but was never able to give it to him. Kubota’s descendants finally brought the sculpture to Taiwan in 2009.
Ming Shan Resort built the Japanese-style village to memorialize the friendship of these two men.
So why the monster theme? There’s another story that says long ago a bear saved the local villagers from monsters, and you can see images and signs for Kuma (bear in Japanese) in the village. Or maybe it was just a clever marketing scheme?
And why the long red nose on the monsters? They are modeled on Japanese Tengu (天狗 or “heavenly dog”), a folk deity or kami in the Shinto religion. Tengu are portrayed in many ways, often as a bird, but usually anthropomorphized as a angry looking dude with a red face, with the unnaturally long nose representing the beak.”
Taipei for Dragonboat festival
A hot couple of days up in Taipei for the Dragon Boat Festival. On the first day we went to Dajia Riverside Park to watch some races. The next day we went up Taipei 101 and trekked up Elephant Mountain. Picture 29 is a lad that went up the whole Elephant Mountain track, backwards, on his hands and knees. Absolute mentalist.
Wuqi Harbour
Just a few pictures of Wuqi this year but it’s still one of my favourite places around Taichung.
Sunsets from around the place
A “Tourist attraction“
Have you ever scrolled around Google maps and seen the blue scenic point camera pins? This was one of those pins. A last resort pin. I was pretty close by to this one and thought, “That looks alright, a little model village thing? Could be fun, and it’s walkable. Why not?”. The start of the walk was actually really cool, but, soon it led out to a massive motorway. I decided to keep going. Then, there were stray dogs circling, I kept going. Then, when I finally got there I looked around and snapped to my senses…”Oh, it’s a little model village thing…under a motorway… this is shit!” The models were like someone had rearranged the rubbish at the back of an industrial estate garden centre, then left them there for a while.
After looking around for a bit, to top it all, my phone ran out of battery so I had to walk all the way back into town. Disaster.
Taiping Viewpoint
This, on the other hand, was a successful blue camera pin Google point adventure. Houbi First Lookout. To get up to this viewpoint you have to walk up an insanely steep road (at points I was nearly crawling) but once you’re there it’s one of Taichung’s nicest places. There are a few other viewpoints nearby but I haven’t explored those yet.
Buses
Although I’m convinced the drivers are incentivised to ignore/ hospitalise, buses are the best way to get around town. Buses are really cheap, free for short journeys, about 15NTD for longer journeys around town (~£0.36), or more if you go further afield (~200NTD to Sun Moon Lake (~£4.74) – a two hour trip).
I love how the drivers personalise their buses; with everything from bright lights to TVs, flowers to 6ft Teddy bears. I also think it’s great how people bring their own chairs to sit on while they wait for the bus. And of course, theres no crime so they can just leave them at the bus stop ready for when they take the trip again in the future.
Also, I don’t know why, but a lot of the backs of the chairs are covered in chalk. This means you will ordinarily have chalky knees at the end of a bus journey. (Picture 8).
Temples
The BGB has had a make-over! So now, instead of The BGB (The Big Gold Bastard), he’s now The BGB (The Big Grey Bastard).
Scooters
A tribute to Taiwan’s scooter culture. Scooter’s are absolutely everywhere, all over the pavements, in doorways, shop fronts and even people’s front rooms (when you look in some buildings it’s not clear if it’s a business, a front room, a garage or a temple). Also, because they don’t need big vehicle access, around Taichung there are loads of interesting little passageways and alleyways and stuff. If they needed big roads everywhere we would miss out on loads of interesting little places to explore.
The End
And, with that, I’ve reached the limit for the number of pictures I can load into this website. For next year, maybe I’ll upgrade to the plan that lets me upload videos and stuff. Anyway, it’s hours later from when I started writing this and the rain is still pissing down. The wind has let up though so I think we’re passed the worst of it. Time for a meal I think, a succulent Chinese meal.
Thank you for reading, I can’t believe it’s been two years here already. Here’s to more good times ahead.
Today’s weather is like Donald Trump at a charity golf tournament in July 2006 (fuckin’ stormy) so I’ve decided to finally sort out all of my pictures and stuff. It’s also exactly one year after I landed into Taiwan, so it feels like the right time to let you in on what the bloody hell I’ve been up to.
In the short amount of time that I’ve been here I have seen quite a bit of change. When I flew out of the UK, June 2022, everything was pretty much ‘back to normal’ with regards to COVID-19 stuff. Taiwan, however, was still very much in the full swing of things. It was closed to tourists (the only people allowed into the country were residents returning home and “aliens” that were entering on a working VISA) and it still had strict rules and regulations in place. This meant that for a while, for myself and the few other touristy types that had made the decision to move here or stay here during a pandemic, the country felt like our own to explore. We got our own sneak peak behind the COVID-curtain.
This post isn’t going to be about COVID-19, but, not mentioning it would be a massive oversight, like Samuel Pepys not mentioning the Great Fire in his diaries. Or Dean Gaffney’s extended memoirs having no mention of his time as Robbie in Eastenders.
Another thing I should mention early on is the political tensions. Tensions that by even attempting to write in depth about them, I’d probably make worse. From my perspective, and for the purpose of whatever this writing will be by the time it’s finished, here’s how I’m dealing with stuff. I’m just riding it out here for as long as I can, I’m not going to bury my head in the sand, but at the same time, it makes no sense to go hunting for horrible possible outcomes in your head. You just scare yourself for no reason. Like typing “commute in ‘my city‘, terrorist attack likelihood” into a search engine. Of course it’s going to give you mad results.
I’m just following the advice and really enjoying things for the time being, but, if anything does get really bad, then, frankly, I’ll just bounce. I reckon there’d more than likely be a “things are heating up here lads, if you don’t want to get involved then now’s the time to jog on” message before anything truly abhorrent happened. Maybe I’m just naive.
For peace of mind, the political tensions here go way back, people are very accustomed to the odd flare up now and again. Last year, when Russia invaded Ukraine, certain types back home started putting together their doom and gloom narratives, “well, this is World War 3 init?! First it’s this, then that Chinese fella is gonna get handsy with Taiwan, then the septics’ll pile in…then blah, then blah, we’re all fucked”. You know what, they might be right, but, as things stand, everything is completely fine. And it’s been fine for my entire time here. Who knows what’ll happen in the future? But, if you live your life afraid of the “what if”s then you’re going to end up doing fuck all and never leaving your house. At least, that’s what I think, get out and see the world while you can.
Anyway, for the politics, I’m not your guy, or for the ins and outs of COVID-19 policy for that matter. This is just going to be me chatting some shit and catching you up on some of the stuff that I’ve seen and done since moving here last year. I’ll share some pictures as well.
For those ducking out here, here’s a summary, I’m safe, I’m happy and although giving a pretty shit first impression, Taiwan has really grown on me.
For those in for the long haul, let’s start at the beginning, the arrival airport madness and the compulsory quarantine…
Arrival: TPE Airport
Sci-fi cab driversSaliva collection is a 10 step process‘Specimen’ containerThe sterile, plastic-wrapped cab journey to the quarantine hotel.I thought I’d imagined seeing this setup in a scary room in the airport. It wasn’t until I saw this (outside a hospital a couple of weeks back) that it cemented the memory.
It was a good but long flight (I’ll tell the story about my lost bag another time). I’d had a little stopover in the new Istanbul airport on the way which was nice, just enough time there to get a bit of food and to be bent over by the rates at the Bureau de Change. I got out about £30 worth of New Taiwan Dollars for about £50. Anyway, all pretty normal, as normal as flights during COVID times could be.
The plane landed in Taipei airport, TPE. All still normal. Getting out of the plane and into the airport though, it felt very strange, mad actually. I came up the ramp thing and out into the corridor to the terminal, the lights seamed much brighter than a usual airport. Walking straight into clinical bright lights, like being in a dentist chair. It was like walking out into a mad old sci-fi hospital, everyone there was in the full beekeeper, storm trooper, morph suit hazmats… I’ll tell you what it was like, it was like a mixture of an old asylum but filled with…the people in the Truman show when he’s trying to drive out, testing the limits of his bubble, and he goes too far and they pretend he’s gone into a radiation area. Pretty intimidating.
Then you go through what smells like a wall of sanitiser spray gas (probably because that’s what it was).
There was a multi-step compulsory entry process procedure, first, you had to buy a new SIM card, solely for tracking and messages from the government and the Taiwanese health check police patrol. You get that, get it registered, it’s all very quick and confusing and in Chinese (more about that later). The next thing was the COVID-19 station where you get the normal nose and mouth swab test thing. Then, you’re given a specimen container…”specimen, what the fucks this?”.
Then, you’re ushered around into the ‘specimen collection area’, (I’ve spoken with other people that went through the process/airport around this time and they didn’t see this but I swear one of the doors to a room was open and it had a plastic chair in there, like a school chair, a wooden desk with some of the varnish worn away on it, a gammy looking bar of soap, and a completely mirrored wall from which there were two massive gloves hanging down, gloves that looked like big unrolled five chambered condoms, like those gloves they put on before sticking their hand into a cow… did I imagine it? Probably? Was I shitting myself, definitely) into the booth and the specimen they wanted was just a saliva specimen – one of the easier specimens to collect but still pretty disgusting, who’d have thought that collecting saliva would be a ten stage process!
Anyway, things did run pretty smooth, the last thing to do was go through the document checks; passport, visa, work permits etc. I’d come prepared with all of the paperwork and stuff that they needed. It was a big relief when it was all accepted. I love the feeling when the customs official gives you the nod and they do the clunky passport stamp thing, dab-dab-DOOSH! “Yes! I’m in!”.
No freedom yet though, the cabs, after all of the checks and stuff were done, the admin’ forms and that, the spit specimen, I went outside and was hit by that unpleasant, boiling hot, tropical, 100% humidity-hot curtain of outside air. Horrible, I started sweating immediately and didn’t stop until around the end of September.
Outside, were loads of cab drivers, all pretty normal looking, but, masked up and wearing the full length thin yellow plastic suits, like you’d where at a theme park to stop getting splashed, like an improvised outfit of a minion, made with carrier bags and tape… imagine how sweaty they must be.
I chose the friendliest looking driver, got into his murder-prepped cab with plastic on everything and tried to mime where to go. After a bit of confusion, I did a flash of the paperwork and all became clear. Off we went. It was a long journey as well, but you’ve just got to trust the procedure…luckily as well I’d gotten the expensive cash in Istanbul because it turned out to be just enough to cover the journey!
Next stop, the quarantine hotel.
Quarantine
The quarantine hotel was next level (by my standards anyway). I usually stay in hostels so this was a weird but pleasant treat. Look up the Tango hotel in XinYi, Taipei, the slogan should be “you don’t need two to Tango”. My days were spent either training for work (zoom calls, making little videos and stuff), sitting in the hot tub watching wildlife programmes (the only programmes I could enjoy on the TV without knowing Chinese), sitting by the window watching the storms/ traffic/ people going about their business or eating the food (left outside of the room three times a day).
The room
For getting all of your business done at the same time.
Views from the window
This was a great scene in the heist film that I’d imagined while sitting at the window that day.
Quarantine food
The food was actually very nice in quarantine, most of the time it was meat/fish with a side of veg’/salad/rice/noodles/a combination. Accompanied by a gruel consistency yellow/brown/grey liquid and a non-water drink. See if you can clock the garlic bread (sweet, cake-like bread, with garlic butter on it).
Bad meals
The bad meals were when they’d resemble something you’d recognise, but you’d look closer and there would be a disappointing twist. They never tasted bad, the disappointment came because you’d convinced yourself it was something else.
Okay! This looks alright. Let’s have a look…is it a sausage muffin?…… nope, it’s filled with cold veg’ and chewy fish flavoured stuff.
Fancier meals
Fancy fish filletsShellfish soup with chickenMini chicken and pork burritosSome kind of lemony herby octopus/ squid salad situation (10:10)
Paranoia
So, the room, top notch, the food, nice, the hot tub, no working jets but still excellent. What were the downsides of quarantining? For me, it was all of the stuff in the room that looked like it could be surveillance equipment. I went a bit mad (between hot tub visits) looking for cameras/ doing little dances for the cameras/ singing for the people watching… Have a look at this stuff and see if you agree that there might have been cameras. Actually, go and watch Enemy of the State, then look at this stuff and see if you agree that this stuff might have had cameras inside.
Sketchy bit of semi-see-through fabric above the TV (loads of wires below as well)‘Sprinkler’ above the toiletPointed at the bed. Night vision? Thermal imaging? Probably just a normal speaker mate.
Maybe the broken hot tub jets were cameras as well? Who knows. I could easily have convinced myself in the madness.
Another factor was all of the rules and stuff. One of the first things that was required on arrival in the airport was to register a Taiwanese SIM card. This card, is used to keep track of your movements during quarantine. The first part of quarantine was in the hotel room, then, for the second part, you are free but you have limited movement allowances (no pubic transport, going to restaurants/ bars etc.). On top of the tracking, it was also mandatory to keep the CECC (the Taiwanese government public health people) up to date of your condition. Every day the CECC send a text to check on your health. Fair enough, but the creepy part was the automatic reply – “Thank you for your cooperation. The CECC cares about you”. Even creepier was the one time I didn’t reply fast enough, I received a telephone call from a far away sounding nationless voice. The chat of symptoms and health condition in that accent was pretty unsettling.
The rules
A message from the CECC
“The CECC cares about you.”
The texts from the hotel itself started out very formal and intimidating. By the end though, they were sending love hearts and GIFs and stuff.
HOPE YOU CAN ENJOY IT!
Someone on the front desk flogging Kinder Buenos (normally about NT$30 each in the shops)
One of the twice-daily body temperature checks
The last day when I’d passed the Covid-19 test
Meal drop-offs
The picture below is a snapshot of the little moment before each meal that you could possibly see another person. You opened up the room to collect your bag of food and were immediately hit with the chloriney/ bleachy/ swimming pooly smell of cleaning chemicals and also the loud sound of the big air-conditioning units (to create a through draft). Stood outside of the door you then linger for a few seconds, “will someone else pop their head out of their door?”. They never did but it was always a nice moment.
Teaching
I’m working as a “Native Speaking English Teacher”. It’s tough, and was awful at the start, but I’m getting better. I’m at the stage now where I can get away with most lessons, and some lessons are actually pretty good! I dreamt about getting to this stage in my first few months.
What’s the best part about working as a teacher? After the money, it’s the students. What’s the worst part? The students. Whether it’s a good day or a bad day is completely dependent on how the students act in the lessons. There are no ordinary lessons, you either come out of them feeling fucking incredible or you come out questioning every single little decision you’ve made in your life that’s lead up to that moment. Nothing in between. No lesson is the same as well, it can look the same on paper but with so many moving parts there are no two lessons that are the same, even with the same people and pretty much the same material. The way I get my head around the challenging lessons is by telling myself, “these are the ones I get paid for, the others I do for free”. Below are a few pictures of the training and then some on the job pictures (I’ve blurred out all the faces to avoid any issues).
Teacher training: Started on video chat then ended in person
Training from our quarantine hotel rooms
Parts of the mouth used to make different sounds.
Having a knees-up
The writing was on the wall pretty early on
I can’t remember why we did this
Chatting shit
Playing with Mr and Mrs game with our teammates
“Guess the letter I’m drawing”
About an hour of “flashcard technique”
Learning about a fictional society of birds – The trainer liked it when I called it a “Poultry-archy”
Hand jive bitches!
This shit revs my engine
Perfect “claw technique”
Receiving my award: Top of the class 🎓📚
Regional training ft. the other Taichungers
Flashcards I made for the online teaching demo’s (whilst quarantined)
After a couple of weeks training, I started to actually teach, like I said, it was hell at the start. But, now, I think I’m pretty good! (Only a few pictures of me in the swing).
Some more teaching stuff (I’m not in these)
Potential energy go-karts
Habitats
Will the sun melt the crayons? Nope, but a hairdryer will.
Sad robots
This was a ballache
Pencil electrolysis
Couldn’t fucking believe that this worked – potato batteries
‘Terry’ before he changed into a butterfly
You ain’t got the minerals son
Marking
Would have been a good lesson if I had time to planet.
This was a huge let down
The Mento-cano aftermath
Con. Den. Sation.
Watching bread rot for a whole unit
Cotton wool is a bastard
Loads of stuff about seasons
“Creative” writing
Pringles tube camera obscura. (I had to eat a shit load of Pringles that week)
The screen inside
Testing them out in the gammy outdoor area
London Calling
Abbey Road (The Fab ESL4)
Making presentations
Vocab’ Wordle
James and the Giant Peach
Weird/Cool stuff in homeworks, books and on the backs of test papers.
If students finish early in tests/ quizzes, we let them draw on the back of their papers. There’s been a lot of weird shit drawn and some really good artworks. Unfortunately I didn’t start collecting pictures of them until quite recently. The pictures from the books/ resources speak for themselves.
“I always feel angry”
The book we call “Teddy’s interrupted wank”
Black Mirror/ David Cameron
Sorry, what!?
Nothing about murdering in the text
Taichung – The living situation
I’m renting a one person flat, pretty close to Taichung Park. It’s right in the middle of town, very close to the main train station, the bus station and all of the stuff that Central Taichung has got to say for itself. In the middle of town, but only about a half an hour bus away from the mountains (one way) and about an hour away from the coast (the other way). A nice balance and all for $10,500 NTD a month (£250-£290). The pictures below are the pictures I took at the first viewing (the fella in the pictures is my landlord) – saved in notes, alongside the pictures, was a caption that just said “no neighbours, quiet road, lift, landlord is a geezer, no need to chase the bin lorry”.
Before I give you a little tour of the town – this is what I meant when I said the “bin lorry”.
These lads come around the neighbourhood in their snazzy yellow truck. They stop at each corner so everyone can throw in their rubbish. How do people know that they are coming? They play music! Like a bleak ice cream van. The tune is The Maiden’s Prayer, by Tekla Bądarzewska-Baranowska – absolute banger.
Taichung – The tour
At time of writing, Wikipedia says this about Taichung – “Taichung is called Taichung (/ˌtaɪˈtʃʊŋ/,[6] Wade–Giles: Tʻai²-chung¹, pinyin: Táizhōng), officially Taichung City,[I] is a special municipality located in central Taiwan. Taichung has approximately 2.8 million residents and is the second most populous city of Taiwan,[7][8] as well as the most populous city in Central Taiwan. It serves as the core of the Taichung–Changhua metropolitan area, the second largest metropolitan area in Taiwan.” – You know what? I don’t doubt it. And, I don’t fancy knocking on doors and doing a headcount so I guess we’ll have to trust the numbers. 2.8 million, that’s about the same number of people as Birmingham (UK), Lithuania, or Puerto Rico. Or, Luxembourg and Gabon combined (if that’s easier to picture in your head). It’s a big city.
Summertime, June-ish to September-ish, it gets sweaty as fuck. Proper sweaty. We’re talking 40°C and 100% humidity sweaty, grim. It’s alright though because most places have got air-conditioning or some kind of plan in place to make the place cooler (all the classrooms at work apart from the front of 301, that place gets spicy in summer). This delicious sweatbox is created because of the mad storms, pretty much every day in that time period you’ll get a full-on thunder-storm, biblical, with film-set style thick rain, but, it’ll only last for about 30 minutes. After the rain, for the rest of the day, all of the water evaporates in the sun and creates the perfect human cooking environment, broiling from the top, steaming from the bottom. I’m not a fan of sun anyway because of the admin’ it brings with it (sun cream, glasses, hats and stuff) but adding the sweat element to it makes it particularly unpleasant.
The rest of the year, beautiful, you’ll get hot days, you’ll get overcast days, but for the most part it’s just at the sweet spot (direct opposite of the sweat spot). So yeah, in summary (summer-y?), don’t visit in the summer, unless of course you live like a tropical fish and enjoy being constantly hot and wet (feel free to replace “tropical fish” if you prefer a more bawdy read).
Let’s continue the tour, I’ll break it up into the parts that I’ve ventured out to so far. (From here on out this is just a shit load of slideshows, be sure to scroll left and right where you can).
Taichung Park
This park is right next to where I live. It’s fun to go here and look at the trees with pubes, the people feeding massive squirrels and the big lads rowing tiny little blue boats. It’s also home of the G(gs)OAT, the Greatest goat statue Of All Taichung – installed in the year of the goat and I presume it’s still there for a place for the local goths/ knights templar/ capra enthusiasts to frolic, maybe it’s just been forgotten about. If you like fish, and turtles, as I do, there’s shit loads of them in the ponds. The last pictures are of a running track that I’ve used twice (athlete) and a TV talent show event that was in the park one day.
Dakeng Hiking trails
I’m yet to make it to trails 1-4 (the proper ones) because they’re hard to get to. All the pictures below are of trails 5-9 and the surrounding area (easily reached on bus route 21 or 1). They start off as a street market area, then get nicer the further you walk.
Sun Moon Lake
A bit of a trek from Taichung but I’m still claiming it for the tour. It was a nice peaceful place and a very welcome break from the busyness of the city.
Taichung Harbour:
“The dogs can’t be that bad…” – They were actually fucking scary.
Wuqi Fish Market
Around the corner a bit from the harbour proper there is a little beaut’ of a fish market. We got here quite late in the day so the market was the busiest part. I’d like to go back early in the morning and see all the fish being sorted and taken out of the boats. Full disclosure, I got snap-happy and took about 300 pictures of the fish and the boats and stuff. Here are a choice few.
Healthy Umbungos.
Look at that concentration. Cheers lad
The Gaomei Wetlands
Another place not far from the harbour that deserves its own strand is the Gaomei Wetlands. A nice area for sunset hunters and wildlife photographers alike. The big wind turbines are fucking cool as well.
Basianshan Bamboo forest
Beautiful trekking area. We didn’t do the hardcore mountain trail, just the nice one’s around the bamboo forest and the river. I want to go back when it’s cooler and conquer the mountain.
A pond with those fish that “eat all the shit away from your feet”. I didn’t realise that the pictured fish was dead until shortly after this picture was taken. Grim. RIP little guy.
Baseball
I went to the local baseball stadium to try and find out when the games are played, how much tickets cost, etc. When I got there I saw that there was a game already in progress, maybe I could catch the end? Turns out you can just walk straight in! So, I went in and watched the rest of the game (no home runs hit but still pretty cool). Then I decided to hang about and take some pictures. I got more and more brave and ended up down on the field with the players.
921 Earthquake Museum
Wikipedia:
“The 921 Earthquake Museum of Taiwan (Chinese: 國立自然科學博物館九二一地震教育園區; pinyin: Guólì Zìrán Kēxué Bówùguǎn Jiǔ’èryī Dìzhèn Jiàoyù Yuánqū) is a national museum in Wufeng District, Taichung, Taiwan. The museum is dedicated to the 7.3 earthquake that struck the center of Taiwan at 01:47:12.6 TST on Tuesday, 21 September 1999.
The museum is located on the site of the former Guangfu Junior High School [zh]; the shell of the building forms the exterior walls of the museum and the Museum’s Chelungpu Fault Gallery crosses the fault on which the earthquake occurred.”
GuangFu New Village
Close to the 921 Earthquake museum, this is a nice place to walk around.
Wanggaoliao Night View Park – Dadu Plateau
Taichung’s ‘make-out point’ – I went on my own, missed the bus and then walked all the way back listening to Bjork.
Rainbow Village
The story of this place is pretty cool… it goes something like this “It was an old military housing block, owned by the government, that was going to get knocked down, but an artist (now called “Rainbow Grandpa”) started painting all the walls and stuff. Now, it is one of Taichung’s most popular places.” My reality however was a little bit different. I trekked all the way out to it, but, it was closed and surrounded by construction hoardings. I decided to play the dozy tourist card and just walked in anyway. Of course, I was quickly shouted at in Chinese to fuck off but I still managed to take a few pictures (the last of which has the hands of the guy ushering me out). I’m going to give it another visit when it’s properly opened again, at time of writing “Rainbow Grandpa” is 100years old, it’d be nice to meet him.
The Taichung Sign
On the walk out to the Rainbow Village I spent quite a bit of time making stop motion videos of me pricking about in front of this sign. The videos won’t upload so here’s some pictures of the walk down the river, and a few stills from the videos.
Temples and Parades
Temples: Peace in a noisy area. Parades: Noise in a peaceful area.
Luce Memorial Chapel
Lovely looking church, why not get a bit closer?
Why take the picture from so low down?
Ahh, I see.
Artist.
Alright from further away though.
National Taichung Theater
Beautiful and weird, inside and out.
Markets and shops
Sometimes it’s hard to tell what is a shop, what is a food stall/ restaurant or what is someone’s private residence. All over town businesses spill out onto the pavement forcing you to walk on the road or through what feels like peoples front rooms/ kitchens.
Museum of Illusions
The museum of illusions! Good fun, but expensive. Fair play to the chancer who stuck a load of optical illusions on the walls and is charging premium coin for the entry (NT $380 ≈ £10 pp), absolutely raking it in. I bought a little wooden puzzle in their gift shop as well (another tenner), putting the guy’s kids through college!
TheWufeng Family Home and Gardens
The actual home wasn’t very impressive until we got to the theatre in the back, that was cool. Don’t forget to go to the gardens (about 10 mins walk away) they’re nice. Also, don’t forget your bug spray! I got bitten to shit.
Rivers and canals
Every river and canal in town is relatively small compared to the massive walls built up around them. Maybe every once in a while it used to flood here. In my time though, I’m yet to see a canal or river that’s come close to filling even half the space that’s been allotted to it.
Scooters, buildings and hidden gems
A few more pictures from around town.
Me taking a picture of some snazzy bread
The snazzy bread
Satellite townships
Yuanlin
Beautiful scenery and a load of treetop swings to mess around on.
“No problem, six weeks and we’ll ‘ave the whole place tarmacked for ya”
Get back in your nest you mug
Absolute pianist
Houli and Tai’an
The original plan fell through because of the public holiday opening times. But, we managed to salvage the day by walking through little villages and pricking about on an abandoned train.
Awful
Taiping
Typing Taiping… I was on the bus and saw a sign pointing to an intriguing path. I got off, followed the trail and it led to this owl sanctuary/ military history place. Pretty tasty place for a sunset. I’ve got a recording of the sounds around this place as well that I listen to to get to sleep.
And now, some further afield places…
Taipei
I’ve only been up to Taipei a few times but it’s a treat every time. Some of these pictures repeat because my friend came over and I took him to some of the places I like.
Took a risk, regretted it.
Doing a heist in front of everyone in broad daylight, fair play.
Loads of lads waiting for a multicoloured bird to poke its head out of a hole in a tree
Hualien
Out on the east side of the country. This was a slog to get to but certainly worth the journey. Taroko Gorge is fuckin nice.
Spot the waterfall
I stood for 20 minutes making a timelapse of this. I’ll share it elsewhere at some point.
8am. After a shower, I went outside onto the balcony to grease my tits. Just in time for a trainload of people to stop and watch.
The start of the Taroko Gorge pictures
Spot the monkey!
Halfway through a massive tunnel
Majestic bus stop
Hualien Boxpark. What?!
Tainan
We went down to visit friends. Stayed in a hostel with capsule hotel style pod-beds built into bookshelves and had an all-round wholesome time. Even with a disruption of the plan by a road incident (I’m not going to go into that). The highlight of the trip was the night where the bar we were in got taken over by the local rap troupe. When they were finished, one of the lads came over, introduced himself and bought us drinks, absolute gentleman.
Chimei Museum
Still in Tainan but deserves its own section. Incredible place.
Icons: Ed Sheeran and some other geezer (Bill something…)
Yilan
We went to Yilan on a really wet weekend. It was great though. We stayed in a hotel that was pretty much a museum, full of old artefacts and swords and stuff. Went waterfall hunting during landslide warnings, and then all got drunk on gin and cried.
Jiufen
An old mining town, North East of Taipei, this area is sold as “the place where they got the idea for Spirited Away”. Although that’s not true, it’s still a beautiful little village to explore. And there are mountains to climb for nice views as well.
Yuanminshan National Park
Another one north of Taipei. Volcanic hot springs, woodland, bamboo and mountains. By the time we had reached the top of the second peak it was fuckin freezing and a total whiteout, but, still a nice walk nonetheless. Worth a mention as well, the power of the wind was insane, the kind of wind you can lean on.
And now, an assortment of funny shit I’ve seen whilst out and about…
Yuck… pineapple 🤢
Ordered two toasted sandwiches. This note was either to tell them apart, or, a critique of my eating habits.
Wow, cool lane.
“Just give me the brows. Let me get out of here. Give me the brows, Lord, and let me get away!”
For old time’s sake?
Awful.
“Hello, I need the biggest seed bell you have. No…That’s too big.”
Those cats are real.
Sainsbury’s
I want to be in this gang
Very nice*
“We’ve fucking lost it, Dad, these people aren’t scared of us at all”
About to shit yourself?
You can rely on Virus sportswear to get you to the toilet on time.
If you look close enough you can see My Helmet in this picture.
The betting shop downstairs playing the Crystal Palace game
Every sign has a story. (See next picture)
Imagine having to win the bog-roll before you could go and have a shit
Almost trod in it
The sobering reality of foie gras production
99% of this taxi company’s budget was used on the car
Leaving the Truman Show
Waiting to leave the Truman Show
Blind guy leaving the Truman Show
Never heard in Taiwan:
“And that part of the chicken we throw away”
At the local market
“You okay?”
“Nah man, I’m pretty fuckin’ far from okay”
Budget Hairlines
“It’s my d*ck in a box!”
Hi.
People have brought their own chairs to the bus stop
First to 1000 wins
Bad translations
Businesses with names that sound like genitals (Or genital adjacent stuff).
Big Juicy Goose.
Rose Pie: The Unforgettable Sweetness
WaWa Catcher
Pink Dream
Johnson
Chunky Boss
Pash Burger
Longchamp
Bell Chief
FunBox Toys
Snatch
Nice Box
Crap stuff on clothes
I wish it was socially acceptable to take pictures of T-shirts whilst people are wearing them. “Excuse me, your shirt’s shit, can I take a picture?!”. The best one I’ve seen so far was on a grumpy old bastard, probably about 90 years old. He had a T-shirt that read “Part-time Mermaid”, I hope it was a gift from a knowing grandchild.
STREETDIRECTION
DON’TSOMEONE
OH,YES.
JAEK DANICL’S
HOWEVER
RIM
BITCH, SHIT UP!
Classic Bike
YOU DON’T BRAVE, NO ONE STRONG FOR YOU
Official merch’?
SELVZE: YOU ARE MY IHKKE RDGF
Pets and Scooters
This is my neighbour’s dog. I call him “The big lad” – He’s a real piece of shit
Hello mate!
Local Icons, Celebrities and Politicians that don’t know what to do with their hands.
Pat Butcher
Nice nose mate
“This is looking really good.”
“You can say that again!”
“Vote for me or I’ll smash your fucking teeth out.”
The Year of the Nonce
Stuff in shops
“Convenience stores” have absolutely everything. Where else could you sit in a shop with a hot dog in one hand and be having your blood pressure measured in the other?
Hot dogs – They’ve only made me ill once, so far
Blood pressure measurer
Hot food to take away
Printing, photocopying and whatnot
Potatoes
Dumplings
Boiling water for noodles, tea and stuff
More potatoes
Corny photo
Phone charge/ hand sanitiser station
1980’s sci-fi cash point
The seaweed triangle pouch things are fuckin brilliant.
Matcha ice cream
Potato prep’
Arcade machines
These can fuck off.
Glasses that people can borrow to help them fill out forms and stuff
Paintbrush and glue so you don’t have to lick gammy envelopes
People can be trusted with nice things here. Here’s a place where you can leave your umbrella while you go shopping
The Family Mart go-to. Spaghetti bolognaise, pork and celery dumplings, and a lumpy strawberry drink.
A bar with draft beers
The tax lottery
On every receipt in Taiwan there is a code. Each code is an entry for the “tax lottery”. You get an entry on all receipts, regardless of how much you’ve spent (I haven’t done it but I assume you could separate out your shopping into loads of different single transactions so you’d get more tickets). The latest top prize was one million NT (£26,000 ish) and then there were loads of smaller prizes. Unlike the National Lottery in the UK (a tax on hope), the tickets do not cost extra money and also, you actually have a good chance of winning! So far, since I have been here, I have won a total of NT$1200 (£30 ish). Hopefully one day I’ll get the jackpot. Sorting and scanning the receipts is a ballache but worth it when you win.
Arty stuff
I’ve called this section “Arty Stuff”. Just because I can’t find a place for a lot of these pictures and the majority seam to be…arty stuff.
I like how it lines up with the tree behind
“The Bladerunner Effect” – Normal stuff looking cool because the writing is different
I’d like one of these for Christmas, please
Matey boy looking majestic in front of a huge water leak
Under the station: Where Tiktokers and the homeless collide
Under the station: Where Tiktokers and the homeless collide
“Yep, cat food…got that…uh huh… fish fillets, lovely choice…anything to drink?”
The End
That’s about it for now. I hope this has given a little flavour of the year I’ve had. I’ve just signed the contract to stay for another year because I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. There’s still plenty more to explore. Also, now that the quarantine on arrival procedures have been pretty much lifted, I’m going to try and fly out to some interesting places nearby.
Now, it’s starting to brighten up a bit outside. So, more than 1,000 pictures later, I’m going to fuck off to the foodcourt at the bottom of the Taroko Mall for some tomatoey beef noodles. This has actually been really nice to do (picture me, sat with my computer, doors open, listening to the sounds of the storm and the city outside). I hope you’ve had a nice time looking through.
Below is a picture of my view while writing this, why not send me a picture of your view while reading it? Details of how to contact me (and some other bits) are in the link below:
In November 2017 I was lucky enough to travel around South Korea with a good friend. I say lucky because he pretty much organised the whole trip and always found the best places.
These are a few of my favourite pictures from our journey – Seoul to Jeju island and on to Busan.
Gyeongbokgung Palace, Seoul. Loads of people come here in fancy clothes to have their picture taken, I was no exception.
We didn’t go inside the National Folk Museum of Korea. The gardens outside were nice though.
Autumn leaves.
The convenience shops are quality for quick, cheap, interesting food. You pay at the counter, microwave it, eat and then go on your merry way. These selection trays are the best but you can also get rice bowls, noodles, soups, meats, seafood… all sorts of stuff.
A quick stop at a gloomy deserted theme park on the way to the DMZ.
Looking into North Korea. The North Korean side play speeches and messages over a loud speaker. The South Koreans reply with K-pop music.
“Please don’t take any pictures”. After the DMZ the tour goes to the Ginseng centre to try and teach you about (sell you) ginseng in all of its forms.
One for the Lethal Bizzle fans.
Moomin milk is a fantastic alternative, it tasted almost exactly like cow’s milk.
N Seoul tower (Not to be confused with R-Seoul tower).
We weren’t adventurous enough to eat in the “foreign restaurant”.
This massive Sci-fi spaceport looking building is the National Museum of Korea.
Gangnam. The land of trendy bowl cuts and full length ‘Arsene Wenger’ coats.
North Korea/ South Korea demilitarised zone (South side).
Seoul mates. My friend Yeji gave us the Korean food 101.
“Makkoli”, “Makgeolli”, “Mækəli”, (however you want to spell it) is a Korean rice wine. Normally it’s nice (the one in the green bottle), this one however tasted like licking a dry wooden spoon and it left a weird residue in the mouth. (It’s upside down on purpose… ).
I think the lift was broken.
These were actually really nice.
I like the smiley faces that are dotted around Jeju island.
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Yongduam “Dragon head” rock.
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Hiking around Jeju island.
Lunch was often seaweed pouches filled with rice and other stuff. The filling is a gamble if you don’t read Korean.
Jeju Bus Terminal.
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The picture Vs. taking the picture.
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Seongsan Ilchulbong on Jeju island.
They got tired of trying to think of a good brand name.
A little taste of celebrity (they were taking the piss out of us I’m sure).
“I work in marketting”. I think that she’s making kimchi.
The cat in the ‘Green day’ hostel on Jeju island before it attacked me.
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Busan
The plan was to take a picture and call it “The lighthouse family”. These people are not related.
“I’d like my body weight in leaves please”
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The Jengaboys. I wasted a whole night (and subsequently the next day) playing Jenga with these guys.
Boarding the Busan/ Fukuoka jetboat.
———————————————————-
Well, in the words of Porky Pig (a nickname that I have embraced since returning to the UK heavier than ever), th-th-that’s all folks!
To sum up is impossible, like my mate Anders says “If you haven’t been you won’t understand; if you have been you already know”. So yeah, go!
Once again, thanks for sticking it out this far. If any of you have been to South Korea and have some cool pictures, send them to me on Twitter ( @JackTidball ), I’d love to have a look.
When it comes to backpacker jobs call me Bertie Bassett because I’ve done all sorts. Of all of the jobs that I’ve had however, nothing quite compares to what I do now. For the past few months I have been making charcoal in the Australian outback. The days are long, the work is horrible, physical and dusty and the weather is crazy. Basically wood is cut up, we gather it onto trucks, tip it into pits, cook the wood in the pits for about a fortnight and then dig out the resulting charcoal, sort it into bags, sew the bags, stack them and then wrap them in plastic ready for delivery. It sounds simple but each element is hard, dangerous and has its own meticulously regimented method of being done. Everyone has constant injuries, there is no health and safety and yeah, it’s not particularly pleasant.
Digging
The location: 821 Kms west of Brisbane (a seven day non-stop hike according to google maps) is a settlement called Wyandra, look it up, it’s a tiny little place with only 116 residents (116 according to Wikipedia, my boss said in reality there are only about 40 people that live there permanently). Another 25km into the wilderness outside of Wyandra is where we live. There is a small group of us that live out here (so far the minimum has been 5, the maximum was 9) the couple that run the business stay in the house and the rest of us that work here stay in “dongers” or campervans on the grounds.
Water:
To get clean water we need to go on ‘water runs’. A water run consists of driving for about 20 minutes in a rickety old truck to a hole in the ground with pumps and tubes sticking out of it. On the back of the truck is a massive tank that is filled directly with the water, hot enough to cook in, pumped straight from the boar. When you pull up to the pump, one of you will then climb up on top of the truck and then up onto the tank. The hose is guided up to you with ropes then you put the nozzle into the top of the tank, tie the hose to a strap, let rip and then you wait on top until the tank is full enough. The whole process of driving out, filling the tank, returning and then plumbing it all in takes (on a good day) about an hour; however often there are problems or if it is too dark then we won’t go.
It’s a ballache but better than the alternative. If there is no clean water in the tank we switch to using river water. This wouldn’t be too bad if the river wasn’t slow moving, shallow and didn’t have water with the look and feel of a poorly prepared cup-a-soup (one day we had neither option so I washed myself in my boss’s bathroom with water from a saucepan).
A ‘water run’ at sunset.
Food and supplies: The nearest supermarket is a two hour drive away, actually if you need pretty much anything (clothes, a toothbrush… medical attention) it’s a two hour drive to Charleville, the nearest place that is big enough to call itself a town. If shit gets really serious there is an airstrip nearby that we can use but I’m yet to see it get any action.
Stress:
Like every job there is inevitable politics and any grievances do become heightened because we are such a small group and you are all working long hard hours. Often the person you least want to see is the person that you spend your entire day with. For the most part though I’ve managed to keep out of the politics, but of course some days the job is nothing to do with charcoal, it’s about putting up with all the gossip and the ballache around you.
Chargrilled fingertips and a lost fingernail.
So, why put up with all of this bullshit?:
Aside from the finances (realistically I don’t have time to look for another job before my VISA expires) the main things that are keeping me here are the people (cliché but very true), the fact that I can feel myself getting healthier by the day and the general sense of adventure and camaraderie. It feels like what I always imagined Australia to be. I open my door in the morning and some days I see kangaroos hopping away, or emus, it’s amazing. Before I came into the outback I was firmly trying to enter the tedium of Melbourne city life (working for a smarmy solar panel sales company run by a guy with a popular haircut) and yeah, I didn’t realise how shit it was until I actually left.
Picture taken by Ben Chandler
Another good thing about working here is that it’s actually legit’. I’ve read and heard so many stories of backpackers being swindled by farmers, often for thousands of dollars. It’s not uncommon and it’s all over Australia. The farmers know that the backpackers need to work for a certain amount of days to earn their second year so they treat them like shit and often pay them nothing (or close enough to it) for their hard work. Scum. Luckily I was only scammed once (3 days of pay) out in WA but I’m really happy to be somewhere with long term consistent work (the pay cheques are sporadic but at least they are actually right when they do come).
Picture taken by Ben Chandler
Every day is a new challenge, a new adventure. If something could possibly go wrong it will but that just makes everything that much more interesting. The work is shit but yeah, that’s why they pay you to do it, right? I love a story as well and this job is certainly a rich source.
Here are a few of my stories and photo’s that I’ve gathered so far:
The explosion: It was an afternoon just like any other, the plan was to load ten big bags of charcoal (each weighing about a tonne) onto a big flatbed truck ready to be taken to a different site for crushing. The only issue was that we didn’t have a forklift on site, instead we were using a huge digger with forklift bars attached to its front (it looked like one of the shitter Robot Wars contestants, just on a massive scale). After a sketchy start the digger seemed to be working fine, it’d turn on, go for a bit and then it’d mysteriously stop and the engine would grumble to silence. But each time, first try, it would turn on again with no issue. Despite working for a few short bursts the engine of the digger dramatically sputtered, choked, and it was clearly dead for the final time; like the last moments of a villain in a film when they spring back to life wielding a gun before getting shot in the head and we know that this time they definitely won’t be coming back. The battery was going to need a jump. We got all of the stuff ready and I stood there holding the jump leads in my right hand, poised and ready to pass them over when the time was right. My boss, Ian, was teaching me how to do a jump start. I lent over the battery and stared at the connections with vacant intent as if to say “I’m listening, you’re a great teacher”, I was giving loads of open mouthed feedback as well, “Oh yeah… ahh okay… gotcha…right on… yep… of course… yeah that makes sense”, I think it’s called “active listening” although I think it just distracted me from actually listening. The lesson continued, “Okay, brown to the positive, this clip goes here…” BANG!! All at once it sounded like Velcro ripping, a pop of a champagne cork and the loud cracking thud of a large tree branch falling onto concrete. The sound pulsed into my head, recoiled around in my skull and then left all in a fraction of a second. My eyes stung as I opened them, my skin crawled with a scratchy heat, my ears were ringing and I had a weird gritty taste in my mouth. I kept getting that strange sensation that happens whilst swimming when you come up for air and the water leaves your ears, like somebody opening a pressurised submarine door in the centre of your head. “Ian!? Ian! What the fuck!? Are you alright?” My language went a bit Hollywood in the confusion. “Are you alright?” He calmly mumbled in reply. “Are YOU alright Ian?” We asked each other if we were alright another five times or so in rapid succession without replying. He got up and we stumbled over to a tap, ears still ringing, on the floor was a dirty old jacket that we wet and used the muddy sleeves to wash the battery fallout from our skin. I looked down at my T-shirt and it looked like i’d been shot with blacky-green paint from a novelty shotgun. “Now, what did we just learn?” Ian said in a calm voice. “I don’t know Ian, what the fuck was that!?” “Those leads must have touched together, the ones you were holding, they touched together and the battery’s exploded…” “Oh fuck” “… You’ve got to keep them apart”. We returned to the scene. The top of the battery had blown clean off, revealing it’s sci-fi interior, lots of coiled metal marinating in a thick shiny black soup. “I always wondered what the inside of one of those was like” Ian said with a smile as he patted me on the shoulder. “We’re lucky lucky boys”. Then we just continued on; Ian pulled a battery out of one of the other machines, plumbed it in, jump started the digger and we were back in business. All with the zen focus as if nothing had happened. It was amazing. Just another day at the office.
Baby-toothed Joe takes a tumble:
This is Baby-toothed Joe. He is a local cattle musterer whose adult teeth never came through; leaving him with a frightening gum:tooth ratio. He has three stock phrases:
“Ahzit gowan!?” (Hello, how are you?)
“Year” (Yes)
“Muzz’rin” (Mustering cattle)
Every time I see him he sidles up silently beside me whilst I’m working, settles himself so he is facing my direction and then he blankly stares into the abyss with quiet melancholic eyes.
A typical conversation will be as follows:
“Alright Joe, how’s your day treating you?”
“… Ahzit gowan!? …”
“All good thanks mate, are you having a nice day?”
“… Year …”
“Cool man, what have you been up to?”
“… Muzz’rin …”
“Ahh mustered cattle eh, I bet that will taste nice ha ha ha… … mustard…”
“… Year …”
“It’s really hot today, why are you wearing a big coat and Ugg boots?”
“ … “
“I suppose it feels cold for you ha ha, the climate where I am from is colder than here so this feels hot for me ha ha weather.”
“… Year …”
Anyway, as hard as I try and capture this moment I can never quite get across just how funny it actually was. Basically, Baby-toothed Joe fell over, that’s the story. I was busy putting some plastic wrap around a stacked pallet of charcoal bags when he settled in the area in front of me.
“Alright Joe?”
“… Ahzit gowan!?”
He stared as I shuffled backwards around and around the pallet uncoiling the plastic and stretching it around the bags to hold them in place. When it was wrapped I nealt down to tie up the loose end.
“I’m a bit dizzy now ha ha, being a world class rapper isn’t as glamorous as they make it out to be in the music videos ha ha ha”
“… Year …”
Then he tried to turn to walk away but the heal of his Ugg boot caught one of the unstacked bags of charcoal at the side of the next pallet. His face locked into a look of strained panic as he scampered awkwardly backward. One step. Two steps. His feet slapped loudly against the floor to try and right himself but he was already angled well past his centre of gravity. Three steps. Four steps. Five. I don’t know how he had generated so much momentum from a stationary position but I swear he took about ten steps backward before his arms flailed up over his head and knocked his cowboy hat off as he clattered down hard on his backside.
“Ooooff!!!”
He was now quite a distance away but I heard all of the air leave his body (whistling through his little teeth) as he thudded to the ground.
With an expert poker face I called out, trying really hard not to burst out laughing.
“Oh fuck!? Joe are you alright mate!?!”
There was a longer pause than usual as he reached for his hat.
“… Year …”.
‘The pit’:
This is the Call of Duty map that we come to everyday to make charcoal.
The crash:
This is the aftermath of what happened on my first day. My boss, Ian, was driving back after a hard day and hit a cow. The car was a write off and they had to return later that evening with a gun to “finish it (the cow) off”. Brutal.
‘Mr Blue’:
Picture taken by Sarah Smith
Innocent looking fellow isn’t he? He has a constant smile although behind that face there is nothing but fire and rage. I like the guy, don’t get me wrong, he rides nicely in the cab with me when I drive the trucks, he sometimes has a little game with me when I’m putting my shoes on but yeah, I’m fully aware that if he had the opportunity he would relish in killing me without a moment’s hesitation.
Bugs:
If you sit or lie down anywhere outside ants will crawl all over you like disgruntled Lilliputians. This is a picture of a mug of tea that was left out between breaks.
Innuendos:
In-your-endo! My bosses are Australians. Australians from a different generation. This, combined with the nature of the work we are doing, makes them a rich fountain of unintentional gold dust. My favourite so far is:
“Ahh it’s warm, I’d love to teabag in the sea right now… how about you Ian? Wanna teabag in the sea?”
25 seconds after it happened:
This picture was taken moments after a very important machine had been dropped from a forklift.
The end:
Thanks for sticking this out until the end; and to all you barbeque lovers out there (Australians), next time you are having a lovely outdoor cook up with all of your friends, spare a thought for the time and effort that has gone into making the charcoal under your grill (and that there is a chance that your meat was once mustered by Baby-toothed Joe himself).
I will start with an apology. After a really long day fighting through the bustle of Manila, then a long hot wait in the chaos of the airport, followed by four hours on a restless plane to Singapore my day finally had some punctuation. I was shattered. I plodded my booty down on the plush carpet outside of the connecting gate and began to write. In the following four hours I poured my little heart into a huge piece of writing, not leaving a single ounce of memory on the cutting room floor. My error however was that I was just typing, glazed eyed at the screen with no thought of backup I just tip-tapped away. The call for the plane to board came so I pressed the “hibernate” gizmo and closed the lid on my computer with the intention of going back to writing as soon as I was sat on the plane. The second leg of the journey was longer and I had lucked into a really nice seat (very rare on Jetstar, they are usually crap) so I decided to have a quick snooze. By the time the plane had taken off and we had the all-clear to stand up I was fully passed out. Dead to the world and didn’t wake up until we were about to land!
It wasn’t until I arrived back to where I was staying in Perth that I decided to finish off the writing. When I opened up my laptop however the page was blank. I’d left it for so long the hibernate had become a fully fledged shutdown (much like I had done myself on the flight) and all of my scribblings were gone. “Bollocks”.
Instead of writing it all out again I have decided to write the electric “sorry Miss I forgot to save my homework” story (that you have patiently just read) and then load up a few pictures that I took while I was there. So yeah, sorry you don’t get to read my stream of consciousness written on the floor of an airport*, instead however here are a selection of bloody lovely pictures from my trip to The Philippines. I hope you like them.
A beautiful wedding on the beach.
Reunited with family after 2 years.
Starting off the day with some “Gasoline”.
A beach front hostel for 400PHP (about six quid).
Safety first.
A huge parade for Good Friday.
Magellan’s cross.
Traffic.
Manny Pacquiao’s signed gloves.
Dusk on the beach.
Trekking in the hills.
Rush hour.
Blue ice cream!
“We’re going to need a bigger boat”.
Fresh from the catwalks of Milan.
One of the cheapest meals that I’ve ever had.“Eat all you can” noodles for 10PHP (16 pence).
Nips.
Exploring an old unused hotel reclaimed by the jungle.
Thriller in Manila.
Morning at the markets.
Folded towels and a nice bed (I lived for 3 weeks out of that little bag).
The end of the beach.
“Darling. Fetch my king outfit and umbrella, we’re going for a regal ride in the rain”.
JT phone home.
“Tom”. Blatantly taking the Mickey.
Arriving into Cebu’s port after an episode of seasickness on the ferry.
A Taoist temple in Cebu.
Worth it?
Sassy Jesus.
The hills of Boljo-on.
The pre-Latin Filipino alphabet (Why does “da de/di do/du” have the same symbols as “ra re/ri ro/ru”?).
After a phenomenal few weeks I was coming to the end of the garden route (South Africa) and had no plan. Being the plucky modern man that I am I decided to consult my favourite internet search engine for some ideas. “The Pyramids of Giza and the Sphynx”, too far away, “Table mountain”, I’d just been there, “Victoria falls”, perfect. Before I had checked any of the logistics my mind was already made up. Half an hour or so of messing about, moving money, checking prices and so on and it was done, flights to Livingstone were booked, one way.
At the time I preferred an early morning flight, favouring the “stay up all night and pass out on the plane” approach (I used to get anxious on planes so the faster that I could get to sleep the better). Early morning flights are often the cheaper as well so everyone’s a winner!
Cut to the morning of the journey, I’d misjudged it, I woke up panicked and disorientated in a chair after an unintentional two hour sleep in a spitefully comfortable hot windowless room. “Oh crap, have I missed my flight?”. I hadn’t but time was short. I quickly bundled together my things and shot out of the door. I had intended to have a nice shower before I left but now my plans were out of the non-existent window. Thankfully the taxi driver that I had organised the previous evening had hung around for me and although sweaty, smelly and flustered things were back on track.
We arrived at the airport with just about enough time to spare. At this stage I was smelly, tired but ultimately relieved. The check in and security went well and soon enough I was sat on the plane for the first leg of the journey. I sat in my seat by the window and got settled, the middle seat to my right was empty as well so I was really nice and spread. “Ahh, time for a nice bit of sleep”. No such luck. Behind me there was a bit of commotion, “probably just a domestic” I thought. Soon after the ruckus a generous portion of a man grumbled his way into the aisle, brandishing the stub of his boarding pass, and started scanning back and forth open mouthed with confusion as he made his way down the plane. Of course he was coming my way, I could sense it, of all of the empty seats I knew that this guy was destined to be my own personal nuisancemonger. Sure enough, down he parked into the seat next to me. After a moment of stress trying to find comfort he became passive, oozing his clammy arms over the rests that pressed into his flanks on either side. The noise of him grazing throughout the flight wasn’t my issue, I remember this man so well because of the series of biological attacks that he released sporadically throughout the journey. Hot soupy farts so vivid and offensive to the pallet that I could see people flinching on impact at least six rows ahead of us and looking around accusingly at one another. It was barbaric, unforgettable and unforgivable.
I didn’t sleep on the first flight. I was tired, hungry and now in addition to my body odour I could also boast a smell of “eau de anus” infused into the fibres of my clothes thanks to my flatulent travel companion. Like a zombie (in look, smell and temperament) I waited in Johannesburg for the next leg of the journey.
The next flight was fine, everything was perfect barring one moment where a bit of turbulence made me drop a saucy bit of food right down my front and into my lap. I went to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. What a state. I did my best to have a little clean up in the sink but my efforts were futile, all I managed to achieve was a large unsightly water stain and additional moisture in my fringe (which was already starting to adhere itself to my forehead).
We landed, I was an absolute mess. I remembered that in my carry on luggage I had a bit of after sun lotion. “Maybe that will mask the scent, it smells a bit like plants surely that’s an upgrade from the effluvia that I’ve drawn together”. Whilst the plane taxied I rubbed the after sun into my face, neck, arms and legs. I know that for a fact someone else has me as the antagonist in the story of their journey, “and then he started rubbing himself with herby lotion, what was wrong with that guy?!” – whoever you are, I’m sorry.
Finally the journey was over, I stayed in my seat for a little bit so that everyone else could get off first (why rush at this point, two more minutes won’t kill you) I gathered my stuff together and stepped out of the plane. The sun was bright, hot and upsetting. “I can’t wait to get to my hostel, have a nice shower and then a well earned sleep” I thought as I made my way down the stairs and across the tarmac into the terminal. A long line formed at the doorway. We queued for a while, I remember the relief when I saw my bag on the luggage trolley heading to the terminal from the plane. fifteen minutes or so later the line reached a point where I was stood in the shade, “not long now”. I had built up a fresh sheen of sweat from the blazing sun and I remember feeling really unwieldy in my own body. I was swaying a bit and had a bit of an irregularity to my walk.
Soon it was just me left in the line, ahead of me the customs official was talking to a guy that looked a bit like a hybrid of a policeman and a military general. I took my passport out of my bag and approached. Things didn’t feel right. I looked the dude in the eye and tried to replicate the blank serial killer stare that I have on my documentation. “What is your name?” he said in a low voice. “Jack Tidball … ” there was a long pause. He didn’t look happy with my answer. “Jack Elliott Tidball … ” again he didn’t look convinced. A large gent’ loomed up to me, it was at this point that I knew I was in for some drama.
Moments later I was sat in a little brightly lit room. All that was inside was a wooden table, a couple of chairs and I could see that my bag had been bought into the corner of the room. On the wall opposite was an ominous looking cabinet, I didn’t even want to consider what was inside. It reminded me a bit of the interrogation room in The Matrix when Keanu Reeves gets the metal squid thing put into his bellybutton. I was suddenly hugely aware of my appearance, stumbling about, squinting from the light, dirty, greasy and I not only smelt like a refuse site but I had also helpfully covered myself in a lotion that smelt like a nondescript selection of potentially incriminating herbs, not an ideal situation.
All that was running through my mind at this point was “I’m going to get the rubber glove, I’m going to get the rubber glove … if I did get the rubber glove, would they even use a rubber glove? … that guy’s hands were massive … what’s inside the cabinet? … probably rubber gloves”. Just to clarify, when I say “get the rubber glove” I mean a full exploratory cavity procedure, every cavity, use your imagination*.
The door opened and the army general police guy entered. Without a word he went to the corner and purposefully unzipped a pocket of my bag. He reached in with a confidence as if it was his own and pulled out a red pouch. It was my first aid kit. Before traveling around Africa I had been advised to take a first aid kit that was a bit more comprehensive than a bit of antibacterial cream, plasters and some diarrhea pills. Part of the kit was a sterile set of needles “just in case you go to a hospital in the middle of nowhere and you don’t trust that the equipment is clean”.
“What is this?” he asked with calm authority, still standing.
“It’s my first aid kit, just in case I get ill, I bought most of it in Boots” I replied like a schoolboy bitch.
“Boots? What do you mean Boots?” his expression told me that he wasn’t as familiar with the UK high street pharmacy as I had hoped that he’d be.
“It’s a shop… and it sells first aid kits and stuff” (Don’t get the rubber glove, don’t get the rubber glove, don’t get the rubber glove).
He was quiet for what seemed like an eternity while he thought. Usually at this stage in the story I will try and be cool and blasé about what went down. I’ll say something like “and then I pulled some money out of my pocket and bribed the guy to let me go on my way”, imagine that! If I just pulled out money and tried to bribe him he’d just laugh, take the money, rubber glove me for fun, and then set about putting me in a Zambian jail. Instead it went a little something like this.
He finally sat in the chair that was across the table from me and spoke clearly and quietly. “If you give me some money then you can go, English money”.
“I’ve got US dollars” (People like US dollars, it makes them feel like they are in “the movies”).
He didn’t say anything at this point but I could see in his face that US dollars were right up his street. The question now was how much to go for, too little and he’d “laugh, rob, glove and jail” me, too much and I’m throwing money down the drain. Lucky for me all of the US notes look really similar and I had a mix of denominations and the bigger ones were really well hidden. Again my mind was racing “How much did the bottle of water that I bought in the queue cost? Is that what a local would pay for a bottle of water? Surely not. I’m going to give fifty bottles worth. Maybe I could make some kind of commotion and get the police involved to help me. Nah, this clearly happens all of the time because he seems very well rehearsed. $50 isn’t enough, go for $60 ish. You’ve got two twenties, two tens and some ones they’ll look like loads all fanned out on the table… I’m definitely getting gloved”.
He broke the silence. “Give me $50”
“Okay”.
That was it. I’m sorry for the anti climax but that was it. I never found out what was in the cupboard (I think I was one of the lucky ones), after our chat he returned the first aid kit to my bag and helped me put it on my back as I slid a fifty dollar note neatly into his hand. I walked out, he had a quick word with the customs guy, stamped my passport and then I was on my smelly way; (I just want to add a disclaimer at this point. I’m sure this doesn’t happen all of the time but after my journey I think I was just hyper-susceptible to any scams. Maybe the whole thing was a legit procedure and I just had my thumb up my arse to it all – gloved of course) ready for the rest of my African adventure and what became one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, Victoria Falls.
Instead of giving you a step by step account, here are some pictures that I took at the falls. I can’t stress the beauty of this place enough, please go and experience it for yourself, no picture will ever do it justice.
Happy travels!
Sunrise (Tilt your screen and it’ll look better).
“My name is Grave, like the ditch!”
Always time for a photo’ opportunity.
Right: Zambia. Left: Zimbabwe. The sound and power of the falls at this point is phenomenal.
It’s about one in the morning. After a disastrous series of events I find myself on the floor of Auckland airport and it looks like I am going to be here for a while. The good news is I have some time to tell you about my most recent little adventure, a week in the friendly isles of Tonga!
This is a bit of a change of tone from my previous posts because everything actually went really well; for the most part…
I arrived into Nuku’alofa fresh as a daisy because I’d managed to bag myself some exit row seats on the plane. I didn’t really know what to expect, my plan was to do some diving but apart from that it was just going to be generic happy beach times.
We pulled up at the hostel, the gates opened and two lovely lazy dogs craned their necks and wagged their tales to greet us.
“Hello lads!” – I waved at them like a nan would wave at a ferry… anyway, the point of this bit is that basically as soon as we arrived, before we’d finished checking in, we were given a plate full of Tongan goodies: Octopus, fish, taro, kumala, bread fruit and lots of other stuff that I can’t remember the names of (helpful). I hadn’t tried any of it before, even the fish had a flavour like I’d never experienced before. After everything a part of me was waiting for a charge or some sort of social pressure; it never came. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer welcome.
On the second day we went into town to explore. It was the perfect day, just the right temperature to amble around with no agenda (the Tongans call walking like this “effa”) without fear of getting heat stroke or becoming a sweaty mess. Everything throughout the day fell into place, we needed SIM cards and then what do you know, by the side of the road there were some friendly people selling SIM cards. It was the same with food, shortly after saying “I fancy something made fresh, almost as if we are guests in a local house for dinner” we stumbled across a house with a blackboard outside it and an old guy in an apron. “Do you make food mate?” I asked hopefully. “Yeah, but it’s not ready, we make it here just for you” – perfect. We sat down in the little courtyard at the front of his house under the keen gaze of a stray panting dog.
The food came and again it was absolutely lovely; a large plate of fish, chips and a salad all for 7 pa’angas (about £2.50). The place had a real community spirit about it. A couple of gents came and sat with us in the courtyard, then out came the chef in his apron, and we just chatted for a while about Mormons (I had no idea that Tonga had so many Mormons, the guy said it was about 60% of the island but don’t quote me on that) and the correct number of wives to have.
Later that day we organised to go and try kava. Kava is a local drink that is made from straining water through some kind of pepper routes (again don’t quote me); if you drink enough of it then it’s supposed to give you a calming numbness and it’s also supposed to be good for bringing a sense of clarity to your thoughts. As well as the drink there was going to be music and stuff so it sounded perfect.
Outside the front of the house we arranged ourselves into a circle, all sat on cushions, wooden blocks and plastic chairs (like the ones you had in school) that had the legs removed. The place itself felt like it was in the middle of the jungle, loads of bush and trees around but also lots of unfinished buildings among the trees. Whilst the kava was being prepared an increasing number of dudes appeared from the darkness to join the fun, each with their own nickname and a musical instrument or talent. Before long there was about fifteen or twenty of us in the circle at the front of the house, all ready for kava. It was ready. One of the guys emerged from the side of the house with a sloshing bucket, a large plastic washing up bowl and another few smaller bowls. The rest sang songs and played guitar, it was like being in a cult!
The kava itself looked like dirty river water, once mixed it was poured into the little bowls and passed around. The idea was that each time that you are handed a bowl (containing about a pint of kava) you down it in one, no messing around. It tasted pretty much how it looked (dirty dishwater) and it was passed around every time that the guys finished a song. We sat there for hours and hours, listening to them sing, chatting and drinking stupid amounts of the kava (every time that a big bowl was finished the same guy would come from the darkness with a huge bucket and refill it). By the end I’m pretty confident that we’d at least had 50 litres of the stuff between us, it was madness. Gradually the circle became more sedate. I didn’t really feel anything apart from a numb tongue and the feeling of being way too full. Apparently the more you have and the more regularly you do it the more affective it is, but it wasn’t for me, once was enough to try. I loved the vibe and the songs and stuff but personally I wouldn’t recommend the kava.
The next time that I left the guest house (a full day later, perhaps the kava did have some affect after all) was to go to the north west of the island to go and snorkel the reef (there wasn’t enough interest in the SCUBA to justify a boat going, if I’d wanted to do it I’d have had to pay a silly amount as it would have been me alone). The beach was really nice, the sand was big and grainy (almost the size of those little polystyrene balls that you get in packaging) until you got very close to the sea. The first part of the water was very shallow and you could see the reef by just standing at the water’s edge, beyond that was the deeper water so the waves were breaking way out in the mid ground, beyond that, deep blue sea (on DVD…).
We had fun snorkelling for a while and saw a perfect blue starfish and loads of other crazy little colourful fish, I never used to like the sea but now I’m all over it.
We came out of the water and lay in the sun for a bit. At this juncture I’ll stress the importance of sunscreen (Baz Luhrmann eat your heart out) because within minutes I heard “Jacque! You arrrre pink!!” (french accent) I had really bad sunburn.
More or less as we were leaving one of the girls spotted something out to sea, a spray of water, it was whales! What luck! They were absolutely beautiful, just slowly drifting by without a care in the world. Another thing that made it special was that we were right at the end of the season so even out on a boat with an expert you were not guaranteed to see whales, and then there we were, just standing on the beach watching them drift by. It was magic.
That night we went to a big Tongan feast. It was at a large family run resort on the south of the island (Tongatapu – The big one) in the most picturesque location, the kind of place that makes you want to paint, I wish had gone back there in the day to take it all in: caves, beautiful white sand, trees, like a bounty advert.
At the feast there was a load of different traditional Tongan dishes including raw fish stew and a full roasted pig. The place was amazing, right on the beach (I made the mistake of wearing shoes so I got sand everywhere…some is still in my shoes now!), it had rows of benches, all with banana leaf table cloths and a view of the band.
After the dinner the guy that ran the place (Tonga ran through this guy like words in a stick of rock) beckoned three dignified frail old ladies to come to the stage. They oozed importance, one of them was Lady Tu’imala “The nightingale of Tonga” Kaho (I just looked her up) and she had a jewelled necklace on her that would make a pharaoh jealous… a little Faberge egg of a woman.
After a long introduction (making multiple references to his “beautiful wife”) the old ladies proceeded to rock out; one with a ukulele, the other two were singing, swaying side to side and patting gently on their laps (like they were trying to secretly call a dog across the room without the owner noticing). The whole thing was really sweet. My favourite part though was the tipping system. To show appreciation, instead of just handing some money people would march up, grab one of the nanas by the shirt and proceed to stuff notes into their collar. It was mad! They kept singing although they were (at least it looked like they were) being manhandled, it was so strange. After they had finished, the ladies hung around for a few pictures and then left, probably to go and get another shirt full of cash elsewhere, what legends!
After the nightingale had left we all made our way down into the cave. This was the best part of the night, it was really dark in there, only lit with candles and a few coloured lights. When we were all inside the cave our voices reverberated around the walls, you could feel the excitement. Then silence. The head of the family (the same guy as before) gave a bit of a preamble about his family (“beautiful wife”), Tonga and a little flavour of what we were about to see; then it started. The drums and other instruments sounded amazing in the cave, so loud and intimidating. Then there were some traditional dancers and a few guys in all of the Tongan warrior gear which was cool. The highlight was the end when three lads (one of which was only five years old) did a display with flaming sticks. Drums, fire, food, what more do you want!? The whole night was really good fun.
The next day we went back and explored downtown Nuku’alofa and some more of the markets. The agenda was to pick up some nice colourful clothes ready for our trip to the king’s church the following day. I ended up in full fledged tat mode. Picking up and almost buying every little thing that I laid my hands on. I really like the ornaments (old age setting in) and crafts and stuff, the main reason I think I was so keen was because they weren’t forcing anything on me. I’d pick something up, we’d have a nice chat and then before I knew it I was buying the thing. Sales genius!
The next day was Sunday. Everything closes on a Sunday so the only options were to go to church or go and see another island close by. We decided to do both.
In hope of seeing royalty we got into our Tongan finery and headed for the king’s church in town. I was expecting a really fun, happy clappy sort of vibe, instead however it was a really quiet somber affair. The choir and the band started playing, it was really powerful, instead of joy I got a sense of awe, and fear! The music was really beautiful but it felt ominous. Then the preacher at the front started barking out in Tongan and I immediately felt like I was sat in trouble in front of a head teacher. Thinking back however, royalty was in the building, he was probably just giving it the extra gusto to try and impress them.
We left the church a bit early and head for the wharf. Waiting there was a tiny little boat with “Pangaimotu island” painted on the side. We got in and sat on the edge. Immediately I thought, “ahh here we go, you haven’t taken sea sickness pills so now you are going to be sick in front of all of these people like every other unprepped boatride”. To my very pleasant surprise however the water was as smooth as glass, we glided over to the island with no problem whatsoever.
Close to the shore there was a huge shipwreck, it was rusted and sticking out of the water almost upright like a gammy old wafer in an ice cream. It made me think what it must have been like for people when they were first discovering these islands, this was a relatively new boat and it’d crashed, the old ones probably didn’t stand a chance (what do I know).
The island itself was very beautiful, and small you can do a lap in under an hour (apart from one rocky bit on the back of the island that we couldn’t be bothered with). We were in the middle of our little exploration when in the distance, out toward the international date line (the imaginary line where days begin and end… not a sketchy multinational telephone matchmaking service), there was a huge storm – it looked amazing, and because of where it was, over the date line, it technically lasted over 24 hours… the time zones around this area really confuse me so I’m going to abandon this train of thought.
We enjoyed the rest of our time on the island and then head back, watching some local lads doing backflips and dives from the shipwreck into the sea as we left (back to our place on Tongatapu).
The next day was my last full day, I decided to take a bus from Nuku’alofa to the south of the island to see the blowholes that are just outside of Houma (a small village). This should have been a really straight forward task however I got talking to the old dude next to me and before I knew it I’d missed my stop and the bus had looped all of the way back to more or less where it started.
Second time was a charm, I mentioned what had happened on my previous attempt to the girl next to me and she made a real point to make sure that I made it off at the right place, she also made sure that I was going in the right direction and gave me some “if-you-end-up-in-a-pig-pen-you’ve-gone-too-far” style directions. Above and beyond friendly, I never got to properly thank her because it all happened so quickly, maybe she’all read this some day… Thanks lady.
A short walk later a sporadic noise kept happening in the distance. It sounded like a thousand people blowing jets of air from their nose (we all know what that sounds like), or the sound effect for a dragon breathing fire. I kept going a little further and soon I could see the water spraying up through the blowholes from the sea. Sometimes the fountains of water were absolutely massive, like a fire-hose being shot vertically. Also, I was expecting just one or two but there were jets all along the coastline, as far as the eye could see in both directions. It was phenomenal and to make it even better there was not a single other person there. I stood for a little while trying to take some pictures with my telephone but nothing will ever capture just how amazing the place was (go!).
The next day it was time to leave and I got a bit down, it was raining as well so I felt really sorry for myself! I still feel sad now, I’ve got the post holiday blues even though I’m sat in Auckland waiting for the next trip to start! It must be because I’ve sat here writing like a madman for hours now… I better go and eat!
To conclude, Tonga really is one of the friendliest and most special places that I have ever been to; everyone that I met was just so nice and I cannot recommend it enough (whether you are a lone traveller, a couple or in a group you’ll have a wonderful time). If you take anything away from this ramble it should be yourself… to Tonga! Go and get amongst the beautiful scenery, the welcoming culture, the smiles and the infectious laughs of what are very aptly named “the friendly isles”.
Diving with whale sharks in Oslob. 
Tidball's travels 