Planes, trains and automobiles: travels to India

Smithy and I have just spent two weeks travelling overland from Kathmandu to Delhi and have utilised a mind-boggling array of conveyances to get there. We've travelled down the Rapti River in Nepa's Chitwan National Park in a dugout canoe. Ridden elephants through Chitwan's jungle. Cycled alongside elephants in Sunauli. Bounced along a road in the back of an open-air jeep. Crossed the Nepal/India border on foot, then travelled by private sedan to Varanasi. Sailed down the Ganges in sailboats. Been rowed alongside the Varanasi Ghats to see the evening puja. Journeyed to Sarnath in tempos and around Sarnath by cycle rickshaw. Gone from Varanasi to Orccha on an overnight sleeper train and to Agra and then Delhi on local  trains and survived several trips on Delhi's Metro train system.

We're now in Shimla, in the foothills of the Indian Himalaya, which we got to by travelling on the famous "toy train". Running on a two-foot gauge, the train goes through 102 tunnels, crosses 988 bridges and goes around 937 bends on its 96 km journey from Kalka to Shimla.

We've still got a few local bus trips and one very long overnight train journey ahead of us, but travelling through northern India has been a wonderful adventure.

It's been a gas, gas gas

A few months ago, Smithy and I decided to convert from mains gas to bottled gas after receiving a gas bill in which we'd used about $3.00 worth of gas, but had to pay $60.00 plus for the privilege of having it supplied to the house. So we went about buying the bottled gas and getting it all connected and everything and then Smithy rang the gas company (AGL) to organise the disconnection. It took quite some time for the operator to understand that yes we wanted the gas disconnected, no we don't have a forwarding address as we're not leaving, but yes we do want the gas disconnected. Yes we do understand that means the meter will be taken away. No, it won't cost the new tenants anything to get it re-installed because we are not going anywhere. Yes we want the gas disconnected...even though we aren't moving house. Eventually someone did come around and disconnect us from the mains gas and took away the meter. A little while after that we got our final reading bill, which included a penalty fee for terminating the contract with the gas company before the two years we had initially signed up for had expired. Money-gouging scoundrels, but we'll cop that since it's the last we'll ever have to pay.

Fast forward to last week when we received a bill charging us for the mains gas we've used for the past three months - the gas we no longer get because we're disconnected. Intrigued as to how they managed to read a meter that's no longer there, Smithy rang AGL and explained to them that we've been disconnected from the mains, the meter has been removed and all that's left is a pipe sticking out of the ground. Oh, says the operator, but our records show a new meter was installed there as the previous residents had moved out. No, we're still here, but there's no new meter because we're on bottled gas. Turns out, a meter had been automatically ordered, but its return never recorded or something. Anyway, the operator said she'd sort it all out and arrange for someone to come out and remove that pipe that's sticking out of the ground.

Fast forward again to yesterday, when we received a letter welcoming us as new customers to AGL. They don't know who we are as the letter was addressed to "The Customer" but they've signed us up for a two year contract. Thoughtful of them, ain't it. Smithy's going to call AGL, ask if she's speaking to the Left Hand or the Right Hand and then ask to speak to the other one as obviously half the people at AGL have no idea what the other half are doing.

Meanwhile, that pipe is still sticking out of the ground.

Stand by me

A video of non-professional singers from all around the world singing "Stand by me". Enjoy!

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2539741

END HTML

Today I gave up my website. It was a big decision to let go of something that's been with me for the past 15 years, but it was the right decision. I just don't have the time to spend maintaining and updating it anymore. The site was a vehicle for my photographs taken during my Himalayan treks and it was a lot of work creating each page, uploading the photographs and writing the HTML code. It's much easier to use Flickr - and cheaper. It was costing me about $25.00 a quarter to have an ad-free website with Yahoo. For $50.00 I get a two-year ad-free, unlimited upload account with Flickr, so it makes sense to go with that option.

I first got my website in 1996 with GeoCities and it went through quite a few incarnations on its way to its final form. I started off reviewing books I had read before moving on to showcase my photographs of Australian landscapes, which then morphed into a website of my trekking photographs. Along the way I learned a whole lot about design, good navigation and HTML.

I was able to use all those skills in my professional work, running library workshops teaching other people how to create their own websites. It was enormously satisfying giving people the skills and tools to create their own little corner of cyberspace and it was a part of my job I really loved.

I also really loved nutting out the HTML code I needed to achieve a particular effect on my webpage and going back and scrutinising the code to discover the errors I had made. I loved that sense of achievement seeing the webpage take shape and being able to say, "I did that."

I'm going to miss my website and I do feel a little sad at letting it go but I have to be realistic and I can't write novels and keep up my website. One consolation is that more people may get to see my photographs now that they are on Flickr. So, come on over and have a look at http://www.flickr.com/photos/aussietrekker. Say G'day while you're there.

A tale is born

Do you, like me, wonder how writers come up the ideas for their stories that they do? As a writer myself, I am often intrigued with what it was that sparked a particular idea for a story. Sometimes I think the process of coming up with a story idea, the backstory to the story if you like, is as interesting as the story itself. So, in case you find the background to a story as fascinating as I do, I'll share how it happens with my writing.
Often, I'll start with a single image that has popped into my head and see where that takes me. My current project is a good example. It began with the image of sand skittering across the road. From there I began thinking about an outback town and some sort of disruptive event. A carnival coming to town, perhaps. Which led to the image of someone watching said carnival leaving, disappearing into the distance and the sand blowing across the road, obliterating its tracks. And that image led to thinking about the Burke and Wills expedition leaving Menindee and that became the genesis of the story I am writing now.
My short story Truth to tell came about as the result of the image of someone scrunching up a letter and flinging it away. There's no letter in the final version of the story, but that image provided the impetus and storyline for the tale.

Other times, I'll have an idea of what I want to write about but can't find the way in. For ages, I've wanted to write a piece that would convey the utter silence I experienced whilst trekking in the Nepalese Himalaya, but just couldn't find the right words. Then at a travel writing course, we were given an exercise where we could write anything we liked, but could not use the word 'adrift'. That immediately suggested a sea, which conjured up the phrase 'sea of silence'. And that gave me the key to the piece. It needs more work, but now I have an image to work around.
Very occasionally, I'll draw inspiration from other writers and stories. Years ago, I read a short story about all the ghosts who haunted the Tower of London, one of whom was Elizabeth the First. I was really tickled by the idea of Elizabeth I in the modern world and decided that would make a good story one day. Thus was my novel born.

From Wealdstone to Warrandyte

Following on from my earlier post about emigrating from England to Australia, I thought I'd put up these two photographs of where I came from in England and where I ended up in Australia. The first one is a shot of the bustling shops of High Street in Wealdstone. The second is of South Warrandyte's equivilent. Culture shock, much?



View Larger Map


View Larger Map

Tibet: Murder in the snow

Back in early October 2006, Smithy and I had just returned to Kathmandu after travelling in Tibet for a month and were staying at the Kathmandu Guesthouse, when a poster on the noticeboard at the Guesthouse caught my eye. It was announcing the deaths of Tibetan refugees, shot by the Chinese as they escaped over the Nangpa La on the Nepal-Tibet border on 30 September.

This is the documentary of that shooting and of the stories of the hundreds of Tibetans who risk their lives every year to escape the Chinese occupation and oppression in their land.

Visit the official website to learn more about this story or to donate to the fund set up in Kelsang Namtso's name.

Living in the Land of Oz

My family marked its 40th anniversary of emigrating to Australia on 1 August. I was just a kid when we set sail from England - 10-pound Poms, we were - and it felt as if we were leaving everything and everyone we knew and heading into the great unknown. At the time, it felt like a terrible mistake. I'd never see my grandparents, friends or schoolmates again. It poured with rain for the first month of our arrival. I couldn't understand a word said to me by the kids at school. The trees looked funny, the birds sounded strange and I couldn't get my favourite comic, Whizzer and Chips, at the little shop up the road - the only shop up the road!

Looking back now, I regret nothing about my parents' decision to emigrate. Who knows how my life might have turned out if we had stayed in England. Sure, I wouldn't have been bullied at school for being English, but I doubt I would have gone to university either. Granted, we never lived in a house big enough for me to have a room of my own, but at least my brother no longer had to walk through our bedroom to get to his. My parents would probably never have built and owned their own home, nor would my siblings.

If I grown up in urban outer London instead of South Warrandyte - on the outer fringes of suburban Melbourne - I would probably never have developed my deep love of nature.

Would I have grown up loving England as much as I love Australia if I had stayed? Probably. Do I love England now more than I love Australia? No. I have no desire to go back. I still have a British passport and I still support England in the cricket but it's not home. Australia is and I wouldn't live anywhere else... except perhaps Kathmandu.

Can't take a (racist) joke?

I've been following with interest the stories in the media about recent racist remarks made by Andrew Johns and Mal Brown. For the most part there has been almost universal condemnation of the comments and the attitudes behind them, particularly for Mal Brown's dismissal of his comments as 'just a joke' - as if that somehow excuses referring to Indigenous footballers as 'cannibals.'

It's good to see so many commenters on the various news sites condemning the remarks. But there were enough other commenters dismissing the outcry as 'nonsense', 'political correctness' and suggesting people needed to 'harden up'. Others bewailed the fact that it only seemed to be racism when whites did it - "I get called white b8#%&d all the time but that's never called racism".

Um, that's because generally white people do not suffer institutional racism based on the colour of their skin in Australia. You're not stereotyped because of your skin colour. You're not discriminated against because of your skin colour. You're not the victim of laws based on your skin colour.

Tell you what, try spending a lifetime being put down because of the colour of your skin, and see how it feels for someone to tell you to harden up, or it was just a joke when a racist epithet is flung your way.

Confessions of a bookworm

I read a lot of books. The list of titles I've read over the past 30 years of my adult reading career would be mind-boggling if I could only remember them all ( I started keeping a list 18 months ago). With the death of JD Salinger in January this year, I realised I had never read Catcher in the rye. And that got me thinking about what other 'great' books or authors I have never read. I've never read any Steinbeck novels either. Nor Hemingway. Never read The Great Gatsby. Never read a single Jane Austen - although I have read the Brontes and George Eliot. Never read Gone with the wind, or seen the movie. Speaking of movies, and while I'm in a confessional mood, I also have never seen The sound of music or The wizard of Oz.

I'll probably never read any of the above-mentioned books, except for Catcher in the rye and I'm only reading that because it was a book club suggestion. Do I feel impoverished by these gaps in my reading history? Not at all. I'm reading some of the fantastic literature that's been written in the last 50 years. There's enough there to keep me going for the rest of my life. I can't possibly read all the books out there (although it won't be from a want of trying), but every book I do read enriches me just that little more.

What 'great' oeuvres have you never read? Send me a comment!

Why I shouldn't answer the door to 'Christians'

Catholic Man came knocking on my door yesterday, from a local Catholic church conducting a census of members in the area. "None here" was my response which prompted Catholic Man to enquire as to my religion. I told him Buddhist and he said they had encountered a lot of Buddhists in the area. He didn't know much about Buddhism, but wasn't it all a bit "vague"? I'm not sure what he meant by that but replied that on the contrary it was very precise. He then queried me about Buddhists not believing in a creator and how did we explain the creation of the world. He couldn't get his head around the idea that to Buddhists it was a waste of time pinpointing the very first moment of creation so instead launched into a speech about how Christianity brought love to the world as well education and reading and writing and democracy! Not really wanting to get into a discussion with him, I let him rabbit on until the reading/writing line, which I couldn't let pass - would have been news to the ancient Greeks, Romans, Eygptians, Chinese, Indians - and he conceded he had exaggerated a bit there. Methinks he exaggerated rather more than a bit. In fact, he seemed to be demonstrating rather a lot of Christian hubris.

Christianity brought education to the world? So he's never heard of the University of Al Karaouine in Fez, Morocco, which was founded in 859 CE and is the oldest, continuous degree-conferring university in the world and precedes Oxford by almost two hundred years. It just happens to be Islamic.

He also needs to go and read up on the University of Nalanda, one of the greatest Buddhist universities of its time, which operated from 427-1197CE. 427 - let's see...wasn't Europe plunged into the Dark Ages about then. Very little education going on there.

And then of course, there is Nanjing University, founded in 258 and still operating today. It didn't confer degrees way back then, but provided education to future scholar-clerks.

Universal education is a very recent concept, even in the 'Christian' West, and came about primarily because of the Industrial Revolution and its need for literate and numerate factory workers, and not because of the Christian churches.

Democracy too, I believe is less a product of Christianity than of the Enlightenment. In fact, the Churches held to an autocratic model of rule in which monarchs were seen as God's viceregents on earth - not much democracy going on there. Nor was much democracy on show in Hitler's Germany, Mussolini's Italy, Franco's Spain or in Latin America up until recently - all Christian countries. Catholic Man's boss, the Pope, doesn't seem to hold to defending human rights much either as his recent diatribe against UK's Equality Bill demonstrates.

I let the man go with all those ambit claims, but it was when he claimed that Asian countries lacked a solid grounding in honesty because they weren't Christian that I saw red. His example of lacking honesty? "Asians rip off Westerners." When I said everyone tries ripping off others, he replied that Asian countries do it more than Western (ergo Christian) countries. Well, I snapped and told him he was insulting and offensive and I'd heard enough and sent him off with a flea in his ear.

I think he was trying to say that Christianity was superior to Asian religions because it introduced all the above-mentioned qualities to the world. But all he did was prove the narrow-mindedness, bigotry and arrogance of his own religion, as well as his own ignorance. He sure did not display any of that love he claims Christianity brought to the world.

It's a miracle

I don't get the whole miracle thing. You know, the concept that by praying really hard to a dead person somehow they will effect a change in your circumstances. And why you? And not the hundreds of other people also praying for a miracle. How come, say, Mary MacKillop cures one person of cancer and not every other person also praying to her to be cured? That's almost implying that one person's faith was so much stronger than everyone else's, isn't it? And therefore deserving of reward.


It's the same when there's a disaster, or terrrible accident and the survivor says "God was looking out for me that day." Why didn't he also look out for all the people that died?

See, that's where the whole God thing breaks down for me. I don't understand how people can believe in a supernatural being who picks and chooses who is going to survive a disaster, illness or accident. Perhaps it's an extension of that ever so divisive concept of "God's chosen people." Really? But aren't we all meant to be God's creation? Does that mean he plays favourites?

Sorry, but God seems a bit too capricious for my liking.

It's a jungle out there

When Smithy and I 'remodelled' our garden several years ago, we decided we wanted one that would thrive on neglect, one that would survive us going overseas for three months at a time, one that didn't mind if it didn't get watered too often. And it's done well over the years. Sure, we lost a couple of plants through the drought, but all in all, it was looking good.

Then, last weekend we thought we'd better get out there and do some tidying up and discovered that when you aren't looking nasty things start growing. We were hacking back the monsteria that was living up to its name and becoming monstrous and swamping the poor little fig tree that's struggled for years to get any bigger than two feet tall, when we discovered a nasty, thorny vine growing up into the canopy. Not just one vine either. Oh no, there were four of the nasty buggers growing there. Out came the secateurs and we began snipping it off and tugging it out of the trees. One of those vines was a good five metres long, snaking its way through the lilli-pillis. And what did we find at the end of it? An asparagus fern! Yes, that lovely, innocuous little plant that looks so sweet in its pot had transmogrified into a triffid-like monster that is the stuff of nightmares. It took an axe to get its root system out of the ground.

Needless to say, Smithy and I won't be waiting another six months before doing some gardening!

A Bill of Rights for Australia?

I've been reading with interest the debate about an Australian Bill of Rights and the one argument against such a bill that I just cannot fathom is the one that suggests our rights are best protected by politicians.

Really? Correct me if I am wrong, but wasn't it politicians that made homosexuality illegal? Politicians who barred lesbians and single women from access to IVF? Politicians who wrote the "White Australia" policy? Politicians who suspended the Racial Discrimination Act?

Politicians are in thrall to their electorates and will pander to all sorts of interest groups in order to secure their votes, regardless of whether the rights of others are trampled on, or ignored.

I say bring on a Bill of Rights! I'd rather entrust my rights to a disinterested judge than to a politician with his/her eye on re-election.

A letter to the Prime Minister

Dear Mr Rudd,

Could you stop already with the "hardline" rhetoric about "illegal immigrants." They're asylum seekers and it ain't against the law to seek asylum. The only illegal immigrants are the ones already in the country. You know, all those people overstaying their work and tourist visas.

Your government has enormous political capital at the moment, so I don't understand why you are perpetuating the mean-spirited nastiness of Howard over the refugee situation. Why pander to that segment of the community and media when you have a fantastic opportunity to set this country on a path that is generous and compassionate to others. Take a leaf out of Malcolm Fraser's book and deal with this latest wave of refugees with the same open-heartedness that his government did.

We voted for you because we wanted something different from Howard, not 'Howard Lite'. So please, please stop demonising asylum seekers as illegal immigrants.

Head in a book

I love reading and I've always got my head stuck in a book. I read at breakfast, on the train going to work, last thing at night. I read whilst watching the telly, which Smithy always marvels at - "How can you concentrate on the show if you're reading?" - but shuts up when I rattle off what's happened in the last ten minutes. I'd rather read than do just about anything else.

Last October, I decided to keep a record of the books I read. I was curious how many I got through in a month. Also, I wanted a history of what I read. Of course, the hundreds and hundreds of books I'd read up to then would never be recorded, but I had to start somewhere.

So, a year down the track, I've managed to read one hundred and thirty six books. Sixty two of them were fiction. Twenty four were by Australian authors. I owned fifteen of those books - the rest were borrowed from the library. On average I read 11 books a month, or 1 every two and a half days. The most I read in a month was 18 and the least, 7. Three books I read twice - two deliberately as they had been chosen (after I read them) for my book club. The other one accidently - I've only discovered that fact right now! Even with a list I can't always keep track!

Here's a small selection of what I read: Horses like lightning, Breath, Empires of the Indus, Why the Dalai Lama matters, Mountains of the mind, The long way round, Gilead, K2: savage mountain, The songlines.

Some of my favourites were: Slicing the silence - history of Australia's involvement in Antarctica, The lost dog, In search of the medicine Buddha, A teardrop on the cheek of time - a history of the Taj Mahal, Inheritance of loss and Wanting.

I've just finished reading Janet Evanovich's Finger Lickin' Fifteen and have made a start on The art of racing in the rain.

To explore more of the books on my shelves, why not check out my LibraryThing account.

A 'real' writer

Last Saturday, my writing group - Fairfield Writers Group - launched its first anthology of short stories, Beginnings: Queensland stories. Eight of us each contributed a short story on the theme of 'beginnings' and the only other criteria was the stories had to be set in Queensland. This anthology was our way of celebrating Queensland's 150th birthday.

This is me with my very first 'signing' - very exciting moment. So I guess I can now consider myself a 'real' writer, since I am now published - albeit in an anthology we all paid to have published - and have participated in a book-signing!

Central Australia Adventures

Returned home on Thursday after a sensational three weeks in Central Australia. The first two weeks were spent trekking the 230 kilometre Larapinta Trail along the West McDonnell Ranges. The trek starts at the Old Telegraph Station just outside Alice Springs and ends on the South Summit of Mt Sonder. In between is some of the most spectacular scenery I've ever seen in this country - and some of the hardest terrain. I couldn't complete all the sections because of severe bruising to one of my feet. It still hurts!

Some of the highlights: Standing atop Euro Ridge on Day 1 - fantastic views; the hike into Standley Chasm - although I could give the 'pole' a miss; Brinkley Bluff on Day 4 when one of the team had a stroke and had to be helicoptered off the ridge. The rest of us had to build a helipad ie clear away rocks, spinifex and shrubs so the chopper could land. Very gusty winds made landing tricky. Then, after a 3-hour wait for the rescue, we all had a 3-4 hour hike to rendezvous with the rest of our crew who had no idea what had been happening. The good news is that Nick is making a full recovery. Digging the Canter - 12-seater 4WD vehicle - out of the Finke River where it was bogged up to its differential in sand. Spotting wedge-tailed eagles, whistling kites, zebra finches and Port Lincoln parrots. Watching a dingo fishing at Ormiston Gorge. Falling asleep in a swag under a sky full of stars and a full moon.

Reaching the summit of Mt Sonder in time to see the sun rise. Listening to dingoes howling around our camp. Having my first shower in fourteen days back in Alice Springs.

Smithy and I stayed on in Alice after everyone else flew home to join a 3-day camping trip to Watarrka (King's Canyon), Kata Tjuta (The Olgas) and Uluru (Ayers Rock). So, with a busload of twenty-something backpackers, we had a fantastic, albeit very dusty, three days exploring these three magnificent icons of the outback. I loved every minute of it but was very happy to get back to Alice Springs and away from the dust. It ain't called the Red Centre for nothing! The dust gets into everything. I don't think my hiking boots will ever return to their original colour!

Before I went, I had no idea just how spectacular Central Australia is. I thought it would be pretty flat and barren for miles around, but it's not. Ranges of mountains stretch to the horizon and the land is covered in mulga, spinifex, ghost gums, wattles and a myriad of flowering shrubs. I'd like to go back some day and re-visit some of the places we saw on our trek.

Busway blues

I am an advocate of public transport, so you would think I would be all for the new Eastern Busway but I'm not. Sure, it will reduce the travelling time for people commuting to the city from Redlands Shire by quite a considerable amount of time, but at what cost?

It's not the people of Redlands who are paying the biggest price, but those of us living in the inner-city. The busway is going to carve a swathe of destruction through Stones Corner and Coorparoo. Whole blocks of tin and timber character housing are being mowed down along Old Cleveland Road. The busway itself will be a massive concrete eyesore cutting through Stones Corner and destroying the streetscape along Old Cleveland Road.

It's the amenity of my neighbourhood that is being sacrificed for those who choose a bayside lifestyle and expect an easy journey 20-30 kilometres into the city centre.

it just doesn't seem right.

Twittering

I've just signed up to Twitter and am finding it fun. I originally did it so I could find out how it worked so that I could write an article about it for my work blog. I wanted to write about Twitter as a useful tool for staff to use to keep in touch with what various politicians and government departments were doing.

So now I have my own account - www.twitter.com/elldeelosang - and I have eleven followers! Not many in the scheme of things, but still. And here's the funny thing, the North Queensland Cowboys are following me! Ha ha ha - must be because I tweeted last night that I was watching the Ashes and the NRL.

I'm following a few people - Kevin Rudd and Anna Bligh, to name a couple. The others are strangers but tweet on Buddhism and self-publishing. They were following me to begin with, so now I'm following them. It all sounds a bit circular doesn't it? I have no idea how they found me originally.

The curious thing I've found about the whole Twitter thing is the compulsion you feel to 'tweet' on a regular basis. It might be micro-blogging, but the pressure to blog is ten-fold what I feel for this blog. Strange. Perhaps it has something to do with knowing people are following you and therefore expressed an interest in your activities and so there's an obligation to give them something. Whereas, with this blog, I often feel I am writing to the void. Does anyone read it? Who knows. Do I care? Not at all.

Anyway, if you are reading this, you might want to follow me - both here and on Twitter. Cheers.