Sayonara, Sushi and Sake...

The last time we wrote to you all we were sipping whiskey overlooking the Bund, toasting our amazing adventure in China and eagerly awaiting the next stop on the Asian leg of our trip: Japan. As we touched down in Narita airport, little did we know that Japan would become a victim of timing on our long and exciting trip. In the previous four months, we had sampled some of the most world-renowned cuisine (we are still debating whether Italy or China takes first stop - B is arguing for China!), walked with lions, fed elephants, watched whales breach from a small boat a mere 30 metres away, climbed the Great Wall of China, fed a baby panda and rode in a Sampan down the famour Yangtze river - one of the most beautiful scenic spots in the world. How was Japan, globally the second largest economy (and thus vastly developed), going to compete with all that preceded it?

We felt a bit like that kid in the movie 'Wedding Crashers' (...bear with me here!..). In an attempt to catch the attention of the beautiful bridesmaid, Vince Vaughn's character starts making animal shapes out of balloons for the kids. One particular kid storms up to him, arms crossed. Vaughn asks: "..So, what can I make for you little guy?". The spiky-haired eight year old puffs out his little chest and shouts: "..Bike! I wanna bike!". Vaughn looks surprised and returns with "..A bike? I don't think we have time to make a bike." The kid screams back "..I want a BIKE! Make it happen clown!". Five minutes later, Vaughn produces a life-size bicycle, made entirely from balloons. The kid, still arms crossed, looks at it vaguely unimpressed.

And that's perhaps where we had got to on our trip. We rocked up to Tokyo, stamped off the plane, crossed our arms and shouted "Make it happen clown!"..but it didn't happen, or at least not in the way we expected...

Japan is not a country that overtly shows off, or tries to impress. It is almost the exact opposite of China: meek, mild, reserved, private, polite, intricately detailed and ordered. We had to shift from our position of fourth gear, that ensured we enjoyed the hustle and bustle of China, and drop it right down to second - a slower pace of gently soaking up the ambience, rather than seeking out a series of highs to satisfy the traveller addiction. It took over a week to work that out!. We had masses of energy that simply didn't need to be consumed, and the more we searched and dug, the less we found. Japan is a country of intricacies, hidden beauty and complex gestures. You cannot demand of it. You have to unravel it. To quote the strap-line of a current TV ad: 'God is in the details.' And that is a perfect synopsis of the Japanese psyche - inexplicably unable to see the bigger picture, this is a nation obsessed with detail, from the beautifully-presented Bento boxes and wagashi sweets to the multi-layered social etiquette.

And so it is with these thoughts and feelings in mind that we regale you with stories of our trip through Japan.

In our month-long journey, we fully explored the central Japanese island of Honshu (one of four main islands). Our first stop, inevitably, was Tokyo - a large, fast-paced, highly-developed, glistening city - crammed with Michelin-starred restaurants, funky bars, high-end shopping malls, designer boutiques and lots of art and theatre. A global city as good as any (...well, perhaps not London, but we are a little biased) a shockingly homogenous population, aside from Chinese and Korean immigrants and the usual gajin crowd. This is a truly Japanese city, made by Japan, for Japan. It's also budget-bustingly expensive, but to bemoan Japan's cost is as churlish as complaining about the volume of people in China - it's not as if you didn't know beforehand. Tokyo was good fun - we visited evocative buddhist temples, decorative Shinto shrines, walked through wonderful parks, explored the sumo-obsessed quarter of Ryogoku and enjoyed several of the fantastic food markets. Talking of food, perhaps we should drop this 'travelling' charade and just admit that this trip is a long, drawn-out attempt to enjoy all the different types of food the world has to offer. A 'gourmet oddessey' if you like. Now that we have reached the end of our time in Japan, the Barrelmeos are looking more like a couple of human rice balls. And so it was in Tokyo that Japan first picked up the food baton handed down from China - and we were not to be d isappointed.

Firstly, let's dispel some myths. Japanese cuisine is not just sushi and sushimi. It is not by any stretch of the imagination a healthy diet - 70% of food is deep-fried or breadcrumbed to death. The Japanese are obsessed with sweets and cakes (naturally, we felt it our cultural duty to join them in this national obsession). So to summarise: we enjoyed ramen, udon, soba and hoto noodles in hearty broths, warming stews and tasty stir fries; sweet and sticky eels (unagi); gut-busting sumo stew (chanko nabe); kyoto's haute cuisine (kaiseki ryori); thick batter pancakes, heaped with lashings of barbeque sauce and mayonnaise, topped with pork and bonito fish flakes (okonomiyake), and wonderfully addictive sweet bean paste in pounded rice balls (mochi), ice cream or cakes.　We are now also totally addicted to wasabi paste.

And what of the booze we hear you cry! Well, on one boozy night at the handily-placed and cheap travellers bar next to the hostel, after starting with a couple of glasses of red wine, we decided to work our way through the japanese drinks list: full tumblers of mind-numbing spirits - the next day was somewhat unproductive.. There's wonderfully dry sake, diesel-loke shochu (distilled from rice, barley or potatoes), palate-pleasing suntory whiskey and sweet, sweet plum wine - the plum nearly ruined us..

Aside from the food and drink, we had some fantastic day trips and overnight stays around Tokyo - the wonderful olde-worlde charm of Kamakura (the 14th C. c apital), with its array of impressively-set temples and buddhas of all shapes and sizes, fun hiking trails up the heavily-forested Mount Takao, hanging out by the base of the mighty Mount Fuji, and the relaxed atmosphere of the old pilgim town, Nikko. Nikko was a highlight of our trip, as the thick snow covered the beautiful Chuzenji and Yumoto lakes, with the impressive Kegon falls gushing down the steep cliffs.　The snow was over a foot deep. What is it about a thick covering of snow that makes you grin from ear to ear and powers you with childish energy? We walked, frolicked, slid, made a cool snowman and enjoyed a couple of snowball fights. It was a wonderfully immature couple of days.

It was then time to move on to Kansai, an overnight bus journey from Tokyo. We arrived at our first stop, Kyoto, the centre of Japan's history and culture - boasting a vast collection of jaw-dropping temples, the most vividly-beautiful red and yellow autumn leaves we are ever likely to see, the wonderfully preserved Geisha district of Gion, and a memorable day trip to the 8th C. capital of Nara - a town alive with history, and a few too many wild deer! Next stop, Osaka, the Manchester of Japan - a great vibe and a little grungy. The highlight was enrolling in the home visit programme, and being invited to Sunday lunch with a wonderful couple in their sixties (I know, rock-n-roll eh!) - for a day, they were our surrogate grandparents. We shared views on Japan's development and 'progress' and got wonderfully well-fed. It was a priviledge and a joy. In the next couple of days, we took in the impressive Himeji castle and the port town of Kobe ( a great place to chill).

Our final stop was Hiroshima - a city totally and uttertly synonymous with the dropping of the first atomic bomb. They have preserved one of the main halls that lines the river and it remains in exactly the same state as it was after the bomb had dropped. It is a sad, poignant, numbing reminder of the evil of war and the dire depths that humankind is able to stoop to. The entire 'ground zero' area is converted into a Peace Park, a Children's Memorial space (...full of paper cranes made in memory of a 2 year old bomb survivor who died at the age of 12. She belived that if she could make a thousand paper cranes then her wish would come true - if only life were that simple), and an excellent memorial museum (photos, childrens toys, peoples clothes and survivors' testaments all bring to life that day on Aug 6th 1945 when America - with UK and Soviet backing - dropped an atomic bomb on a Japanese garrison town). It left us humbled.

There was time for one final day trip before our return to Tokyo on yet another night bus. This was our trip to the beautiful island of Miyajima. Stunningly set, with the sun streaming down on us, we hiked the 2 hour trail up Mount Misen and soaked up the views. A thrilling cable car ride down was followed by a visit to the floating shrine20- one of the most photographed scenic spots in all of Japan. As the tide came in, the towering orange painted torii gate 'floated' in the sea - a powerful symbol of 6th century religious and spiritual devotion - as impressive today as it ever was.

So, after returning to Tokyo we have started to reflect on our time in Japan. Japan is indeed a wonderful country to experience. A good tourist destination, and the most gentle introduction to Asia you could ever imagine. If you are looking for a challenge, this may not be the place to find it. If you want to experience a developed area in Asia, aside from Hong Kong, this is the place to come.

So, time to start to roughing it again in Thailand, Cambodia and Malaysia. We can't wait!

Up the Yangtze without a paddle...

After the scale and exhausting pace of Beijing, we moved on to Xi'an, one of the hardest cities to pronounce properly seemingly and the resting place of the Terracotta Warriors. Home to a mere 8 million people and much more manageable to negotiate due to impeccably preserved inner city walls and four intersecting roads (north, south, east and west), Xi'an was a welcome respite and a nice city to boot. We treated ourselves to a slightly more upmarket apartment hotel, with comforts including a full-length bath, TV with BBC World and HBO movies and free slippers - this was the life.

We shared the now familiar airport bus to the centre of town with a great couple from London, whom we met while waiting for rucksacks at the baggage claim and after checking in, headed straight for the nearest decent youth hostel to book on a tour to see the clay army, our Beijing CITS experience driving us on!

We set off to see the world-renowned Terracotta Army the next day, in a transit van that had seen better days, accompanied by a mix of travellers from Holland, the US, Germany and good old London, happily hooking up again with our fellow travellers from the airport. After experiencing some interesting detours on the state-run travel agency tour to the Great Wall in Beijing (stops at both jade and silk factories where the steely-eyed cloned staff gave a quick 'demonstration' and then proceeded to try and flog you as much crap as possible), we were a little disappointed to see our first stop of the day was to yet another state-owned factory selling 'hand-made' versions of the warriors at inflated prices, alongside some very expensive furniture, and yes, you've guessed it, jade and silk. Happily, it didn't last long and we soon arrived at the museum proper. The site consisted of four huge halls, the most interesting of which was the original vault where the bulk of the excavations has been done to date. To the credit of the Chinese, the access and viewing platform is excellent, allowing you plenty of opportunity to see the treasures below, despite the busyness of the place.

The first glimpse of these oddly still, scarily realistic figures was pretty breath-taking, lines and lines of individual soldiers, ranked in order of superiority and task, silently standing there, some beautifully and painstakingly restored, others left incomplete, giving you a real feel for what the original archeologists must have seen when this extraordinary historical find started to take shape before their eyes. The photos really don't do it justice - I would urge anyone who is interested to go and see it, it is probably one of the most unuual things you're ever likely to see.

The trip finished with one of the few disappointing meals we've had and a slightly raucous journey back into town, then after a quick pit stop at the hotel, we hit bar street with our new mates for a few much-needed Chinese beers.

Having done the culture, we took a day or so to enjoy the more homely delights of Xi'an - a fun few hours cycling round the city walls on bikes with brakes that didn't work(!), revealing a city mainly in need of a lot of new housing; a wander to take in the everyday life while snacking on the tasty street food in the dingy, lively Muslim quarter of the city; and a memorable early morning trip out to see several Pandas at a rescue centre at the foot of the mountains a couple of hours out of the city.

There is nothing more fun than calling to a one and a half year old baby panda, who comes lolling over having seen you have bamboo shoots in your hand, feeding and stroking him for a while and then saying goodbye as he slopes off to sleep for the rest of the day - honestly, they have a great life - followed by visits to see several other pandas eating and starting to snooze off in a clean and tranquil environment. It was so much better than seeing them in a zoo, and one of the very few places in China not besiged by hundreds of people, magic! The day was also memorable due to the fantastic lunch we had in a local eatery, much to the interest of the 40 or so other locals eating there that day!

So after 5 days, it was time to move on again, but Xi'an for us was one of the most relaxing and enjoyable cities to visit in China so far - great food, friendly people, memorable trips out and a bar street five minutes walk from our hotel - what else could we ask for!

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After a swift flight from Xian, we soon found ourselves in Chongqing - a huge municipality (30m people) with a strong regional identity (anyone who has sampled Sichuan cuisine will be familiar with the face-paralysis chilli-infused food). The next afternoon we headed onto our boat for a fabulous three day cruise down the famous Yangtze River. It was everything Hyancinth Bucket would have dreamed of: guests donned in nautical attire; a personal toast with the captain at the Captain's Banquet (imagine a cross between Danny Devito and Mr Miyagi in an ill-fitting all white captain's uniform from a local fancy dress shop - we swore he was an actor - far too young to be captaining a cruise ship); preening River Guides (Ben and Nina apparently) with feigned and forced smiles (in their defence they had worked non-stop for eight months without a single day off - again, this is the Chinese way), the constant high-volume tannoy that blurts innane messages throughout the day (6am on the last morning, hearing 'Hello! This is Ben speaking, your River Guide' almost sent us over the edge), the lame cultural exchanges- thinly disguised attempts to sell you tat you don't need - jade, silk, embroidery, bottle painting etc; and the cringe-worthy 'entertainment' - talent shows and masquerade parties (needless to say, we made a sharp exit after tea and chilled out in our cabin). Still, all this was worthwhile as the images we fell in love with while watching 'Wild China' on the BBC were even more stunning than we hoped for. A stroke of good fortune ensured fine weather and we sat back enjoying the three huge and narrow gorges we sailed through - sheer rock faces, dreamy waters, tiny hillside villages - it was a privilege to experience it. With the mighty Three Gorges Dam project almost reaching completion after 15 years, an increase of 30 meters in water height, and 1.5 million people displaced - this classic river journey may never be the same again.

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Having left the tranquil, stunning river scenery of the Yangtze behind, we headed for our final stop in China, the pearl of the East coast, Shanghai.

We had heard a lot of good things about the city on our travels in the country so far, and were looking forward to seeing what this constantly evolving place had to offer. The first experience was of course the bus into town, easy to find and very cheap. It was, however, marked out by the fact the driver was one of the most hair-raising we have come across in China, and that is saying something believe me! At breakneck speed, we hurtled towards the several hundred other cars on the freeway. Only when the faces of your fellow Chinese passengers, normally fairly oblivious to the near-misses and terrifying pace of the driving in their homeland, start to show signs of mild panic, do you begin to worry that you may not make it to your destination. Oh well, we thought, we've had a great time up until now, but thankfully, we arrived at the metro stop in one piece, leaving the driver anxiously clutching and un-clutching a huge stress ball, mentally psyching himself up for another run through the crazy traffic.

Having checked in to our hotel, we eagerly headed out for our first taste of Shanghai, and we weren't disappointed. It does feel like most of the city and its visitors spend the majorityof the time either shopping or eating, and as we were staying right on the main shopping drag of East Nanjing Rd, just up from the People's Square, we happily realised most things we needed were about a ten minute walk left or right.

Heading straight for the Bund, we stood and admired one of the world's most well-known streetscapes, twinkling brightly in all its neon and art-deco glory, matched only by the soaring skyscapers and world-famous TV Tower on the opposite side of the river.

The Bund and the newly-redeveloped Pudong area across from it, neatly sum up what Shanghai is all about - a mix of brash, ultra-modern East-meets-West style over substance, an overwhelming sense of money being made and spent everywhere, yet all set against the backdrop of a fading colonial heritage and a desire to hang on tightly to the Chinese traditions and culture which infuse everything from the food to the temples to the peaceful gardens in the older part of town, parts of which have thankfully escaped the bulldozers for now. This may sound critical, but it's not meant to - Shanghai is a fabuluous city to hang out in, with great bars, cafes and restaurants and a increasing number of good museums and art galleries to boot. It's worth seeking out the little 'lilongs' (alleyways) and the remnants of the best art deco buildings left in areas like the Old French Concession and it's also refreshing to visit somewhere without a long list of 'must-sees', leaving you free to fritter away a day just wandering around and enjoying the place for what it is - a fascinating mix of old and new, with some of the friendliest people we've met in China so far.

We're currently spending a couple of days chilling out in a place called Hangzhou, a small-ish town about an hour and a half out of Shanghai, which is famous for its Xi Hu (West Lake) and Longjing tea, and I write this having sought out yet another great little dumplings restaurant for tea, which has left us full and happy, another reminder of how great the food has been in this country, no matter how small or basic-looking the place - if only we could recreate the quality and price back in London, we would be laughing!

So in conclusion, China - amazing,beguiling,fascinating...mental. We'll definitely be back!

Big Travellers in Little China

Last time we left you, we were enjoying our final days in Cape Town, SA, when the sun finally came out properly and we enjoyed a cloud and wind-free trip up to the top of Table Mountain, which was truly stunning and delivered the lasting memories of a fantastic trip in SA that we were looking for. We joined a free walk around the top of the table, led by a spritely 72 year old by the name of Clem Barker, alongside his wife Dot, whose family came over from Norwich in the 1920's. He put us to shame with his tales of springing gaily up the moutainside each day since he was a youngster, living in a family-built house at the foot of the mountain, which made him a mine of information on all things Table Mountain-related and a lot of fun - thanks Clem, we salute you!

So it was with a little sadness, quickly banished by mounting excitement, that we boarded the flight to Hong Kong to start the Asian leg of our trip, emerging from the plane after several hours and precious little sleep, blinking into the sunlight and smog of Hong Kong at 7am local time.

After successfully negotiating the airport bus to our hotel in Yau Ma Tei, Kowloon, we caught up some sleep with a quick power nap, then headed into the thick of things to explore our new home - which we quickly fell in love with. Armed with the most helpful information so far from the excellent HK tourist board and some fantastic insider info from good friends, we spent the next nine days eating, drinking, (window) shopping and exploring the far-flung reaches of all that central HK and it's diverse outerlying islands had to offer.

As you will know, the first - and most important - thing we always start with is where to eat - and Hong Kong did not disappoint us. Keen to eat as locally and cheaply as possible, our request for any information on good places to stuff our little faces at the tourist office was met with a knowing look and a specially unearthed leaflet, hidden away in a dusty draw, which turned out to be an English version of 'The 50 Best Places to Eat in HK'. Compiled by three of the cities most well-known and respected food writers/critics, this was no bible of the latest european-inspired chic and expensive restaurants however, but rather a treasure-trove of the city's best-kept secrets: tiny won-ton noodle bars hidden away down little alleys, age-old HK institutions serving everything from fantastic and insanely cheap dim sum, to the Chinese version of comfort food to specialities such as claypot rice and tasty noodles. It really put those pale imitations of Chinese food you get in the UK to shame. Even the fast food chain versions of popular dishes were tasty and cheap!!

It often required a little bravado to match the Chinese characters listed to those above the door of these restaurants/canteens and to walk boldly in and sit down, no other western face in sight, hoping for at best either an English menu, a Chinese one with pictures, or if all else failed, inspecting what everyone else was eating and pointing at the dishes we liked best to the bemusement of the staff! One thing was always the same though - a welcoming smile, huge pride in what we were cooked, help in the best way to slurp it all up and great satisfaction when we cleared our plates.

We were starting to realise the absolute obsession with good food that exists in China, a theme which I'm afraid is going to reappear rather regularly in this post!

Aside from the food, we had a ball in Hong Kong. Highlights of our time there included a free tea appreciation class in a beautiful old tea house in HK's Gardens; a fun ride up to the top of Victoria Peak in the restored tram for great views over the skyscrapers below (including an umissable photo opp with the wax version of Bruce Lee, see flickr for more on this); tranquil walks and great seafood on the pretty island of Lamma, contemplation and more photo opps with the impressively huge Buddha at the Po Lin monastery on Lantau, another of HK's islands; bargaining with tough grannies for the best price for a ride on a sampan in the old port of Aberdeen; ferry rides across the harbour both at night and in the day between Kowloon and HK Island; fine wine and cocktails under the stars at both the Sheraton and RED bar (the best views over the harbour at night); walks through crowded night markets, selling everything from birds to flowers to the latest hi-tech gadgets; seeking out hidden away temples and cafes stuck in the 50s, enjoying Kung Fu demonstrations with HK's elders on a Sunday afternoon in the park and overall, just taking in the smells, sights and sounds of this amazing city. Safe to say, we plan to come back!

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After soaking up the spirit of Hong Kong it was time to hit China 'proper', and where better to do it than Beijing - the imperial capital: redeveloped, repackaged and represented just in time for 'Beijing 08' (we were soon to discover that our '05 guide book was well past its expiry date - streets and buildings renamed, bars and restaurants replaced, entire areas torn down and rebuilt, new international style malls in every major district, four new ringroads, 5 new tube lines and 'Beijing 08' merchandise EVERYWHERE. The furious pace of redevelopment was mindblowing).

As you enter modern Peking, you are first struck by the scale - it's a huge, massive, collosal sprawl of a place. The eight-lane six ring roads that circle the city (like several M25s around Traflagar square or Berlin's Potsdamer Platz multiplied by a hundred) mean that on an 'Autumn hazy' day (apparently the heavy smog in the air was simply seasonal mist) it was impossible to see the other side of the street, let alone the end of it. Our first hint at size was arriving at the airport, having to take a shuttle train to the baggage area, up and down several flights of stairs and finally locating the ticket desk for the well-hidden airport bus. We've come to the conclusion that any normal person suffers from A.A.B (Airport Arrival Blindness) - symptoms include losing all ability to read signs (even those in your own language), follow directions, retrace your steps, or communicate to anyone - including your travelling partner. Previously intelligent beings reduced to rabbits in headlights, the glistening glass and shimmering white floors rendering your brain completely useless.

Seventy-five minutes later and we arrived at Bejing Zhan - the central railway station. Our 'hotel' was down a hutong (cobbled side-street) and thanks to some detailed directions from a fellow traveller on Tripadvisor, we were stood in the lobby ten minutes later. Our walk there gave us a glimpe into life in Beijing - thousands and thousands of people everywhere, hoards of bemused countryside folk arriving for the first time in Capital City - afraid and uncomfortable with the unfamiliarity of it all, people spitting everywhere, plenty of scammers, pickpockets and petty theives, the feeling that you are being stared at by everyone - yes, everyone, and the sudden, overwhelming feeling that you are a mere number, a dot in a city the scale of which you could never fully comprehend. No wander there are few dissidents in this country of state control - hard to make your voice heard amongst 1.3 billion other people.

At the reception desk of our new home for the next seven days, we got our first taste of 'customer service' in China - a particular trait of hotel reception staff. Their training goes as follows: at all cost avoid eye contact with the guests (after all, they may be mind-reading communist subverters out to bring down the state), communicate as little as possible (limit your words to 'passport' and 'money'), resolutely refuse to answer any of the guests questions (they may be on a quest to hunt down state-sensitive information) and if all else fails follow the I.W.A code from your basic training module (ignore and walk away). We certainly had an interesting time during our one week stay - knocks on the door at 2 am, 'you likee massage?' calls during the early hours, a power cut at 1 am and a small fire in one of the rooms at midnight (we awoke to a haze of smoke in our room). Still, this is the Chinese way - like a living, breathing reverse-Nike campaign: 'impossible is everything'.

Taking all this into account - and how endlessly exhausting it can be to get around - Beijing's sights make it more than worthwhile: the jaw-dropping experience of climbing the Great Wall of China, the beautiful lakes and pagodas of the Summer Palace, the sense of history, beliefs and superstitions that hang in the air around the Temple of Heaven - infused with the sound of high-spirited septagenarians singing old Russian comrade songs, the impressive grandeur of the Forbidden City, the Bird's Nest in all its glory and the awesome towering sandalwood Buddha at the Yonghe Gonghe temple.

And as much as you live, breath and experience the sights you have longed to see - pictures in books brought to life for the first time, it is often the smaller interactions that mark an imprint on your mind:

The constant spitting (the gravel-sounding drawing up of mucus, the silent narrowing of the tongue and the rapid projection of the newly unearthed phlegm - on the street, in the cafes/bars/restaurants, first thing in the morning, into your bowl at the end of the meal. It is a sound that you hear constantly. A sound that you forever attempt to excuse on the grounds of cultural difference. All said and done - it's pretty rank.); the 80 year old couple from the countryside - sat down, arms interlocked - curiously looking us up and down for the entire tube journey - a look of intrigue, wonder, confusion - not hostile but bemused, perhaps interested and the sense that they were thinking 'if they can do it, then I guess we'll be ok'; the constant pushing in the 'queue' at metro ticket machines (the pincer movement from the side, the bowling ball strategy right through the middle or the 'up and over' where a random hand shoves a note in the slot just before you can press your destination stop); the time you and the waitress were in fits of laughter neither able to fully understand the other (and the soft smiling help that you receive in the most local establishments); or the old lady who took time to show you how to enjoy a certain dish that was delivered with pride, care and attention.

Sure, Beijing is exhausting, frustrating, tiring but it is also utterly amazing. By the end of our seven days, we felt settled, confortable and used to the Chinese way - we even managed to pick up a few Mandarin phrases.

It's difficult to say how quickly Beijing will change and whether the capital of a Communist State will improve its customer service to give tourists what they individually want to access rather than what the state deems you should see. In any case, our time in Beijing will always be memorable, fondly recounted and a great introduction to mainland China.

Eat, drink and be merry...

And so it was time to move on again, this time to De Hoop nature reserve, a little further down the coast. Our host in Mossel Bay, the brilliantly-named Tertius, had suggested an alternative route to the motorway, involving a hand-pulled car ferry and some nice views, which B was a little dubious about, but I thought sounded great, so we set off in the sunshine.

We reached the 'car ferry' after an interesting drive down some deserted gravel roads the car was struggling a little with, just as it started to rain. The ferry was actually a small metal raft, attached by pulley cables, and the river we had to cross was flowing fast. There seemed to be no-one around and it was a long way back to the alternative road. B gave me the look of 'S, why did we have to come this way?", and we were considering whether we would have to operate the thing ourselves, when three men appeared from behind a little hill on our left - the ferry men! They didn't really speak much English, but between us we got the car onto the ferry and began the journey, the three men heaving the thing across, looking for a decent tip, to which we obliged.

After reaching dry land, we drove on until we reached the nature reserve signs and headed down yet another bumpy gravel road to our lodgings for the night, which was owned by a rather strange family who took energy and money-saving to new highs. We were brusquely checked in by the hawkish mother Annette, and taken to our 'luxury chalet' by Caspar, the 17 year old overweight, sweaty, grinning son, who was to feature later. The chalet was large and cold, but hadn't been updated for about ten years and luxury was not a word we would necessarily associate with it, as a big beetle crawled out from under the sheets..but hey, we would make the best of it.

As we were in the middle of nowhere, we headed to the restaurant for dinner - which we discovered was to be cooked by none other than Caspar! The only other guests were a party of four students, also looking a little bemused. I suggested we had a whiskey to warm us up before the meal, and asked for it to be served with some water at the side, but it was not to be - they served us a shot of cheap whiskey, drowned in a tall glass of tap water - yum! Dinner consisted of lukewarm Heinz tomato soup, followed by microwaved beef roll, and stodgy vegetables, finished with half-frozen Sarah Lee-type flan cake, all to a loud soundtrack of muzac favourites on the stereo behind B - needless to say we spent most of the meal in hysterics and we won't forget the evening in a hurry. We headed back to the chalet as soon as we could, only for all the electricity to be turned off at 9.30pm just before we heard the sound of Caspar's car driving off for the night - it mysteriously came back on in the morning, just after the sound of a car arriving to sort out breakfast..

After a better-than-expected breakfast, we headed into the reserve itself, which more than made up for the accommodation's shortcomings, as it was beautiful. The sun shone as we ran down the biggest sand dunes we've ever seen and watched tens of southern right whales frolicking by the shore, the most awesome creatures to watch. After some more fun running around in the sand, we realised we were completely lost and had a slightly stressful half an hour trying to find our way back to the car - those pesky sand dunes all look the same after a while!

Not deterred, we drove further into the reserve to find the circular drive they had billed in the leaflet as 'showing some of the highlights' of the park. Ignoring the sign at the entrance which warned that the track was only suitable for 4x4 vehicles, we carried on and almost ended up finishing off the poor VW Polo hire car along the hugely bumpy, potholed road, and we didn't even see a single animal! - certainly the last time we'll ignore a sign like that, doh!

Once back on tarred roads, we said goodbye to wilderness and drove on to Hermanus, the self-proclaimed 'best town for land-based whale watching' in SA. We stayed at Moby's hostel, which was fine bar a dubiously itchy bed and the fact the evening karaoke downstairs was competing with the church choir next door - not sure which was worse!! We did see some fantastic whales in the morning and it was a really charming little place to stay, with a great Italian deli, at which we enjoyed a mega plate of antipasti and great coffee.

Moving on again, we hit one of our favourite areas, the winelands of Stellenbosch and Franschhoek. We stayed first in Stellenbosch at a laidback, long-established hostel. Having survived driving through one of the worst storms we encountered via several mountain passes and SA drivers trying their best to take me out, I let B drive us to our first wine estate, Morgenhof, for a big fat lunch and some great wine. We tucked into three courses, including some of the best carrot cake ever, and it was still only 25 pounds for two - bargain! We barrelled our way back to the hostel for a lazy afternoon in preparation for the following day's wine tour starting at 10.30am.

The next morning we met the other participants in the 'easy rider' wine tour, which handily started at our hostel, including three 21 year old med students from London, a 40 year old life-long traveller from London and a really lovely couple, Sarah and Mike, on a seven month trip in Africa, from yes, you've guessed it, London. The three Dutch students rolled their eyes as we reached the first wine farm of the day and the noisy English contingent leapt out of the van shouting for wine. It was going to be a long day.

We started at Simonsig, a great place, with a demo from our driver and tour guide Tiri Tiri, of how to open a wine bottle with a sabre sword, and then it was on to the wine, from sparkling cap classique, through whites to reds, all of which came in half glasses with no option but to drink it all before a refill - it was terrible.

Feeling slightly wobbly, we moved on to Fairview estate in Paarl, which also made seriously good cheese and had lots of goats milling around. As well as some awesome wines to taste, we also had access to the cheese tasting, which we managed to go round almost four times, as well as getting through some seriously good (and expensive) wines from the generous bar staff, who were very happy to bend the rules on how many wines we were able to try.

Thankfully, we then headed for some filling lunch and animated (OK, slightly drunk) conversation with our new friends at a local restaurant, which helped to steady the legs and prepare us for the next stop at Dieu Donne in Franschhoek. The farm enjoyed one of the most beautiful settings and produced some lovely wine, before we headed to our last farm of the afternoon, Boschendal. I would be lying if I said I could remember the wines we tasted there, but I'm sure it was good and we all made it back in one piece.

After a quick coffee, we decided it would be stupid to stop there, and carried on with the cheap, but good, red from the bar, setting the world to rights and swopping travelling plans. You'd expect us to have made it long into the night, but as we had started at 10.30, by quarter to ten, and after about four bottles of wine each we later calculated, we were done.

Surprisingly, we felt a little delicate the next day and cancelled our 11am tasting in Franschhoek, instead lying in and taking our time to drive to our next place, which was back to flashpacking, in a beautiful little cottage right by the mountains in Franschhoek itself, also the gourmet capital of SA. We headed straight for lunch at yet another wine farm, Haute Cabriere, which was really good, and I even managed a glass of gorgeous pinot noir.

Having slept off our over indulgence, we headed out the next morning for a tasting at Mont Rochelle, a lovely little place right by where we were staying, followed by lunch looking out at the mountains and a final dinner to top the lot that evening. We headed for the Tasting Room, for a six course gourmet dinner with wine, which was really amazing, especially the fact you could choose two puddings, although we did have a bit of a food 'whitey' at the end and made a vow to take a break from stuffing our faces, at least for a few days.

The next morning, we headed for Cape Town, our current base for the last couple of weeks, which we've really loved despite some miserable weather. We've been staying in a cool little studio apartment right in the centre, which has been great for some crap TV (including many of the same TV films we saw in Italy!), home cooking and lazing around. We've spent a fair chunk of time booking and sorting the next leg of the trip, but have managed to fit in some great meals by the glorious beaches, a brilliant horse ride on the deserted Nordhoek beach, high tea at Cape Town's poshest hotel (amazing cakes!!) and a memorable trip to see the penguins at Boulders Beach.

We plan to climb up Table Mountain tomorrow if the weather is good enough, which should shift some of the extra pounds we've put on in our successful attempts to become the Barrelmeos, and will give us some lasting memories of Cape Town and SA before we fly to Hong Kong on Wednesday.

So, until the next time, hope you've enjoyed it, let us know what you think and keep in touch!

Out of Bedford, into Africa.

The last time we left you, we were in the backpacker Mecca of Bedford (top ten destination in many a 'places to see before you die' compilation). After a lovely few days with family it was time to hit the road and head for South Africa - the first long haul destination on our travels. A bus ride from Milton Keynes, a tube journey across London (it was great to be back even if it was brief!), a long flight to Jo'burg (took in 'Son of Rambow' - great arthouse film, highly recommended -and dumbed it down with 'Drillbit Taylor' - Owen Wilson in fine form) and we were finally in Africa. Needless to say we got no sleep, Soph had a bit of a whitey (a combination of tiredness, wine and Malarone) and by the time we touched down in Jo'burg we were feeling a little weary. After a four hour wait we were on a second plane to Nelspruit (close to Kruger National Safari Park) joined by a group of old rich Americans struggling with their copious amounts of hand luggage in the tiny 29 seater plane ('state-of-the-art' according to the recorded commentary, much to the derision and sniggers of the passengers). 'I can't believe I'm trying to schlep all this stuff onto this plane' exclaimed one old guy - it was like being in an episode of 'Curb Your Enthusiasm'. After over 30 hrs awake, we reached Nelspruit, jumped into our hire car and proceeded to head for Kruger Safari Park (the largest and most impressive public game reserve in South Africa - and one of the best in the world). With S navigating and me driving in a semi-conscious state, it was no surprise that we managed to go completely the wrong way and added another 45 minutes onto our journey (it took us five minutes to start the car for God's sake - apparently you have to have the clutch engaged before the ignition will turn - a little tip for you). By the time we arrived at our destination ('Skukusa' - the largest camp in Kruger) it was 4 pm - we checked in, and headed straight on an organised Sunset Drive.

The drives in Kruger are amazing - about fifteen of you head off with a knowledgeable guide, some spotlights and as much fortune as Lady Luck is willing to throw your way. Three hours later we had seen Hippos, Elephants, Giraffes, waterbucks and a genet (wild cat) - it was amazing and also very trippy due to the lack of sleep - kind of like an animal-packed rural version of 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas'.

The following day we went on an afternoon Bush Walk (accompanied by two armed rangers) - they take you across the veld and you track game with them (best done at sunrise or sunset). We encountered warthog and hyena and had some fascinating animal facts relayed to us by our ranger Irvelt. As we drove back to the camp hugely satisfied by what we had encountered in the first 24 hrs, Irvelt enquired what we were doing in SA and as we relayed our plans for a year of travels, he filled with ex citement, enthusiasm and wished us all the luck in the world for the rest of our trip.

The next two days were spent in 'Mala Mala' - a luxurious and very exclusive private game reserve adjacent to Kruger. This was our 3rd year wedding anniversary present to ourselves (...3rd year is 'leather' apparently - make of that what you will) and a complete blow-out. We were greeted by our private ranger Gareth who looked after us the whole time - he took our bags, parked our car (admittedly the Yaris looked a little out of place among the Mercs and Beemers) and escorted us to lunch - the food was fantastic. With bellies filled it was time to head off to spot some game. After the taster we received in Kruger, we were simply blown away by the experience at Mala Mala - a little artific ial perhaps, but you get as close to guaranteed Big Five game spotting as you're likely to get any where in the world - Lions, Leopards, Elephants, Rhinos, Buffalo, Cheetas, Giraffes, Zebras and much much more. The highlights were the first glimpse of a male Lion (lazy thing, but utterly beguiling), the interaction between the female pride and their cubs, seeing wild dogs and their young eating a kill (an extremely rare sighting), watching a leopard up a tree devouring a fresh kill and experiencing the swell of a buffalo herd of 500 plus running towards water. The rest of our time at Mala Mala was just as breathtaking and, aside from our jeep breaking down in the dark in the middle of the bush, every hour was a rush on the senses - sight, sound, smell, touch - it was overwhelming. This feeling of being captivated, engaged, enthralled - like a kid discovering new things for the first time - continued for the next eight days as we moved our way up Kruger National Park (a park the size of Wales according to the literature - a fact only relevant perhaps to the few people who have actually visited Wales!). We stayed in bungalows, tents (kept awake by 'laughing' hippos), lived off eggs and bacon and went on some amazing Game Drives (sunrise and sunset).

The best part was the Bush Walks - one morning we trekked elephants for several kilometers and ate breakfast as they drunk from the river below us. On another, we walked alongside lions (five lionesses and a male lion) - one of the best experiences the ranger had ever had. When game was lacking, the rangers would talk you through many fascinating facts about the surrounding bush and we would try to ask intelligent questions - one day, the ranger was showing us the chamber of 200 community spiders - 'so do those spiders have many legs?' S perked up trying to show interest, muffling his laughter/annoyance the ranger quietly replied - 'just eight. Eight. Just like all spiders', and we slowly moved on. Later S was to make amends as she spotted a White Rhino in the distance - as we moved in closer and closer we were finally only a few feet away - 'stay quiet. Don't make a sound' instructed the ranger. Well, of course, the pressure was too much, S focussed as hard as she could on staying on two feet, but against all odds she lost her balance and slid down the mound. The ranger shot a glance our way, incredulous and petrified. The Rhino alerted and confused (their sense of vision is terrible) snorted loudly and began charging - they would be no match for a human or any other animal once they start a charge. Luckily the mighty charge powered just past us and we remained unscathed.

Humour aside, the beauty, priveledge and fascination we experi enced on those walks - interacting with game in the wild - will stay with us for a very long time.

As we woke up on the final morning of our time in Kruger, we headed off for a drive around Blyde River Canyon - one of the most awe-inspiring and accessible canyons in Africa. We drove through spartan villages, across shimmering rivers, along high mountain roads, eyes overloaded by the sheer beauty of the vistas around. We stopped off at two key panoramic points - 'The Three Rondavels' and 'God's Window' - both as close to picture perfect as you are likely to get anywhere in Africa. As the ad campaign for Mpumalanga exclaims - 'a region so wonderful that even God has a window'.

The next morning it was time to take a flight down to Port Elizabeth (via Jo'burg) on the south coast - the start of a long coastal drive (the 'Garden Route') to Cape Town. As we waited for the connecting flight in Jo'burg - every other passenger had left with their luggage apart from me. Apparently, losing luggage is a national pastime on South Africa Airways and we were told it would be placed on the next flight. Fortunately we had enough time to wait for this and three hours later I grabbed my bag off the conveyor belt, proudly carrying it between my arms, like a parent swooping up a lost child, S's beaming smile as she greeted us both. This was a little lesson for us to remember to pack a day bag - which we had failed to do. We literally had nothing with us - everything of use was in the missing bag. Glad to get that lesson out of the way early on!

After a night staying in a caravan site on the beach in Port Elizabeth, we realised that we had left the 40 degree glorious sunshine behind us in Nelspruit, for here on the coast the famously 'windy city' had just had it worst storms in decades. Fortunately, as we moved away from the coast onto a second National Game Reserve - Addo Elephant Park- it was back to glorious sunshine and more game spotting. We stayed in a gorgeous cottage, carved into the forrested mou tainside and spent three wonderful days watching elephants at sunset - it was magical.

Unfortunately, as we made our way back to the coast, the weather turned again - a fact verified as we moved on to our planned three nights stay in the rugged, desolate 'Storms River Mouth' (...I guess the clue's in the name). We got there and checked in, only to be told that the park was officially closed due to the recent storms but that they would accommodate the handful of people they couldn't get hold off to inform them of this. A little dubious, we drove down the long, winding road to the seafront and to our chalet. Things didn't look promising. The rain was lashing down, trees had fallen and smashed across nearby chalets and some had been washed away completely. Our chalet was a mere 20 metres from the crashing waves (which had reached over 7 metres high the night before). Well, in true stiff-upper-lip style, we decided to brave it out. As night drew in, we realised there wasn't a single other person staying in the park. We were alone and the deep rumbling of crashing waves grew louder and louder. Early next morning, we decided to give it up and head on to the next destination.

We headed along the coast, regained a bit of sunshine and stayed in the beautiful resorts of Plettenberg Bay, Knysna and Mossel Bay. We took in glorious beach walks, boat-based whale watching (immense and unforgettable), Monkeyland (gibbons, vervets, lemurs, tamarins and langurs - a fantastic primate sanctuary - watching monkeys is great fun - one of them had luminous genitals - fantastic!), an evening at the Phantom Forest Eco Reserve - beautiful food and great setting, a visit to an Elephant Sanctuary (walked and fed the Eles!) and magical forest walks (although we got completely lost on the first one!).

We had seen and experienced so much in these first few weeks and still had so much to look forward to in South Africa.

Italy - top five

B ed

Italy - top five

1. Best short break - Verona hands down! (ancient, beautiful setting, hopelessly romantic)
2. Best long w/e - close call between Firenze and Roma, but Rome ultimately wins - great sights, nightlife, food and such a relaxed city for a Capital.
3. Best spot for a summer vacation - Lake Garda (avoid the touristy spots and head for Torri del Benaco on the east bank - simply gorgous)
4. Best (well, worst) crime against fashion: it's a tie between orange jeans (usually worn by over-50 men going through mid-life crises) or ultra-short swimming trunks (one step away from a thong. One guy was wearing them around town, almost leading each stride with his crotch).
5. Most romantic spot - Ristorante Garden, Ravello (stunning views of Amalfi coast).

enjoy. B

Our Italian Summer

Day 36

S ed.

We hear that some of our readers have been wondering what happened since day 12, given we are now on day 36! Well, we have basically been enjoying ourselves, specifically; admiring great art and buildings, stunning scenery - and eating and drinking our own bodyweight in pasta, pizza, cream cakes, ice cream and copious amounts of wine..

We left you in Bologna, not it has to be said our favourite place, but it does almost win the prize for best ice cream, a highly coveted title given we have tried a lot in our time here, but more of that later...

We moved on to Firenze (Florence), arriving in the melting 38° heat and after a 45 minute detour trying to find the hotel (B is not allowed to lead on navigation any more) and a long shower, we headed out to explore the city, which we fell in love with.

The place is literally stuffed with beautiful buildings, art and sculpture everywhere you look - we'll never forget the first time the stunning Duomo popped into view as we strolled into the centre, pretty jaw-dropping it has to be said. We soaked it all up, taking in the Uffizi art gallery, the Bargello, the Accademia - where Michelangelo's superb 'David' stands - and took the secret passageways tour of the Palazzo Vecchio for good measure.

We also enjoyed the fab 'aperitivi' - pay slightly more for your usual drink at the bar between 6 and 9 and get access to the 'all you can eat' buffet! Oh, and the spectacular views across the Ponte Vecchio bridge of course - it wasn't all about the food..

After a fantastic, but exhausting, four days, we headed off to our next stop, San Gimignano, the first of our Tuscan hilltop towns. We stayed this time right in the small centre, in a beautful old hotel. San Gim was great for chilling and enjoying the views, and it also does take the hugely important title of best ice cream, although as the guy has won the Italian ice cream competition for the last twenty years or so, it's not that much of a surprise. Still, if you go, make sure you try the pistacchio!

After recharging our batteries, we headed for Siena, another beautiful Tuscan town, with a great central piazza and a fierce rivalry betwen different neighbourhoods, each with an animal to signify allegiance alongside colourful flags draped from every window. We were in the Porcupine district - make of that what you will - and would have loved to see the locals in force out for the 'Palio', the horse race around the square which takes place annually, which we just missed out on. Sadly, we had to put up with finding the Enoteca Italiana, a wine bar with every conceivable wine from Italy you could want in stock. You can see me enjoying rather too much on the photo! Still, the vino and potential lure of staying for the Palio just wasn't enough to keep us from my favourite stop on the tour so far, la bella Roma.

We arrived at about 5pm, and headed straight out to see the sights, starting with the Roman ruins and a glorious Colloseum at sunset, what a great introduction for B. It was as good as I remembered from my hen do, it was the third anniversary of that fab weekend and as we headed for the restaurant in Campo de Fiori we'd picked from the listings, we knew it was our kind of place, even more so as we rounded the corner and I realised it was the same place we had a great meal on the Saturday of my hen weekend! The food was just as good, the owner and waiters the same and it rounded off a great first night in the Capital.

During the next four days, we were in full tourist mode, visiting the ruins, Capitoline Hill, the Vatican, Pantheon, Spanish Steps, sunset from Juniculum hill in Trastevere, numerous beautiful churches and my favourite spot, the Trevi fountain, all the while eating and drinking like the locals, with B on a serious offal mission (Rome's speciality), taking in 'trippa' (tripe) like his grandma used to make him, creamy marrowbone (ossobuca cremolata) and even pasta with baby calf's intestines (pajata), which were nice, honestly, and certainly gained him a grudging respect from the waiters anyway, even if they didn't do much for his stomach condition..

All good things have to come to an end and as we waved a slightly sad goodbye to Rome, with our stomachs breathing a collective sigh of relief and headed for Sorrento and the Amalfi coast, we looked forward to our next visit.

The walk from Sorrento train station was harder than expected, given our ever growing bellies and the fact we hadn't bothered to double check the directions, the info point was shut (Sunday!) and the Rough Guide had the hotel somewhere in the sea on their small map! Still we made it eventually, welcomed by a huge, soppy dog and much-needed air con.

Sorrento was beautiful, with great pasta and pizza and as a base from which to explore the ruins of Pompeii, which almost made me want to have bothered doing Latin at school..truly breathtaking and a cause for huge amounts of photos, the best of which we'll post on Flickr shortly.

Our next stop was Salerno, just further on from the budget-busting Amalfi and Positano. What to say about the town itself? It was an affordable base to explore the coast and we did stay in a great youth hostel, more like a hotel, in an old monastery with great courtyard and bar, but the town itself was a real slice of Southern Italy. Pretty pikey it has to be said, with impenetrable local dialect, curious stares as we walked past, huge amounts of dog poo on the pavements and really quite terrifying driving! Despite all that, we enjoyed the boat trips out to the nicer parts of the coast, with unforgettable long lunches in both Amalfi and the most beautiful spot, Ravello, perched high above Amalfi on the cliffs with views to die for. It even made the (literal) fight with 50 hot, tired Salernitani to get on the bus back home worthwhile (B ed - S got verbally abused, sreamed at and pushed by a local fighting to get on the bus. Hailing from delightful Stockport, the local didn't know what hit her as a tirade of expletives flew out of S's fiercesome mouth. You can take the girl out of Stockport ...).

So, we write this from Roma, where we're stopping before catching the flight back to the UK for a few days before we head on to South Africa. It remains our favourite place, reminding us of what a truly fab time we've had in Italia. Despite the rudeness and bad driving, it remains a country full of beautiful cities, with great food, wine and people - a fantastic start to our big adventure.

Day 12
B Team's log
Good to firm...

B ed.

Wow! It's been an amazing 12 days so far. It seems an age ago since we left Bedford (Dad's cautious nature - but not so cautious driving - ensured we left over 4 hrs early. 'What if you get a puncture?' Nonno sagely suggested), the Gypsy caravans parked on the local green whizzing past in the distance (we'd be staying in a similar caravan only a few days later!). At the airport, the weigh-in went well - S whizzed straight through but they said I was simply too fat - Tree had previously suggested that I would need to change my name to Barrel-meo by the end of this trip - looks like her prediction was already coming true! With nervous anticipation and a glint in our eyes we flew off to Bergamo enjoying Ryanair's piped music and covering our ears to block out the hoards of Italian teenagers trying to outswear each other - Soph's feminine sensibilities are still recovering!

The beaming sun hit us as we left the plane in Bergamo and we encountered the first of many surly Italians we would meet (passport control) - I still haven't mastered the true Italian 'stare of suspicion' but Soph says I'm nearly there.
A bus, 2 trains and a traghetto later and we arrived at Menaggio in Lago di Como. We felt like Steve Martin and John Candy (a la 'Planes, trains and automobiles'). We couldn't decide who was who - me with my emerging white hair (S ed - he pulls them out!) or both of us continuing the 'Barrel-meo' theme. We stayed in 1 star luxury (il Vapore) overlooking the lake and the owner took me in as a surrogate son - impressed (?) by my broken Italian. The lake was stunning, with lush green mountains all around and fading old builings filling the village. For 4 days we enjoyed chilling, dining, drinking & sunbathing. We took in lake and mountain walks (the 700m ascent nearly finished us off but the views were worth it), a visit to Bellagio (said to be Italy's most beautiful village) and relaxed in the lido - adjacent to the glistening lake.

Our next stop was Torri del Benaco on the west side of Lago di Garda.
We had no idea where to get off on the bus but somehow a mixture of nouse and luck got us through. We stayed in an awesome B&B with a fantastic buffet breakfast and a lovely private terrace. The 2 brothers who owed the albergo were a cross between Cannon and Ball and the Chuckle Brothers but they did a good job of keeping us amused. More lakeside walks, beach bathing, swimming in the cool lake and picnics in the mountains and we were really starting to get used to our adventure.

It was time to move on from Garda and we headed off to Verona. We were totally and utterly overwhelmed by what a beautiful and ancient city it is, with a really relaxing feel - a great place for a weekend break. Our home for 2 nights was a gyspy caravan in a campsite overlooking the city - we had a fab time and the views were amazing. We took in all the sights and rounded off our time there by watching a performance of Romeo e Giulietta (set in Verona obviously) in the 1AD Teatro Romano - as the lights dimmed down, we looked into each others eyes and were both thinking: 'well, it doesn't get better than this'.

So as we are here in Bologna, day 12, we guess it's time to reflect on what we have learnt so far - a Jerry Springer final thought if you like:

It's often the characters you meet that define your experience:
-the top-gun style ultra-vain traghetto crews in the Lakes posing on each boat like catalogue men
-or the irrate Dutch grandad in the Verona campsite who queue-jumped the toilet/shower line while I was in the shower and banged on the door non-stop shouting 'pi-pi, pi-pi' until I got out. I responded 'due minuti' repeatedly until I left. He later confronted me, grumbling 'Mister duo minuto!'.

But all that aside, it's the simple things that give the greatest pleasure - a picnic in the mountains, a strong embrace in the cool lake or gorging on an Italian gelato smiling like children.

Until next time - hope all's well back in Blighty - keep us posted

B&Sxxx

"In 1999 a crack commando unit (well, two of us...) of high ranking ('entry-level') marketing professionals was sent into the workplace by a financial court for a crime they didn't commit. Nine years later, these two individuals promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade (Vauxhall and Kings Cross) to the Italian underground. Today, still wanted by ex-colleagues, friends, family, neighbours and anyone else they owe money to, they survive as travellers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them (...or they can find themselves), maybe you can hire: THE B-TEAM."

...alternatively, you could just take a read of this blog whenever you're bored, post an amusing message on our facebook page, view our photos at flickr.com, e-mail us, send a txt or drop us a call.

We're finally ready to leave home now and head for exotic lands far, far away. Where the indigenous population speak strange sing-song dialects, dress in attire completely alien to modern fashion and drive vehicles with signs on their windscreens to identify their tribal names ('Wayne and Tanya') ...


...a strange land known as Bedford.

After 5 long days in this foreign territory, we are now ready to embark on the beginning of our global voyage. As you'll see from the photo above, we have both prepared for this life-changing adventure in our own inidivual and inimitable style... this has caused what is likley to be the first of many disagreements to occur in the next 12 months...