almost home
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Misplaced Lens Cap
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Cosimo Galluzzi
Product Placement
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One Nice Bug Per Day
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@farflungplaces
www.farflungplaces.net
Tumblr has been a great place for my blog, but it just could not do all the crazy things I wanted. So I have now moved to a new platform, and format, at my own website www.farflungplaces.net
Please wander over and say "Hi", add a comment, and look at that weird photo and wonder just where in the world I am. Lots more travels coming soon on the new site.
You can also find me on Twitter @ https://twitter.com/farflungplaces
Happy Travels
Simon
Wala, the island of large statues and small nambas
Wala is a small island, a short ferry ride off the southern tip of Malakula, its much larger neighbour. The island is a curious mix of Malakula and Ambrym, with Tam Tam statues making an appearance, while the islanders wear small namba leaf penis sheaths. Namba in Bislama means Number, an oblique reference to the penis, and their traditional costume proudly shows off their small namba’s, albeit surrounded by a healthy amount of flowers from a native tree. In northern Malakula the locals wear big namba’s, and there is great rivalry between the two groups, which in the past resulted in fighting, and the eating of the vanquished, as cannibalism was rife. The small namba’s celebration of a smaller male organ size is a welcome antithesis to current western cultural obsessions. The custom dances are both colorful and noisy, with tam tams being used as drums, and the island itself is a great place to explore. Wandering into the hilly interior I was warmly welcomed by the locals, as I stumbled along tiny paths into their small villages. Each time I was offered bananas, which seemed to grow everywhere, and the ubiquitous kava to drink. Wala has largely been undisturbed by tourism, until P&O Cruises started visiting a couple of years ago. Cruises arrive four times a year. This has boosted the local economy, and also those of Malakula and Ambrym, as stall holders descend on Wala from the surrounding islands on these days. Although, not all have benefited from this sudden influx of money, see the Australian SBS TV news story on http://www.sbs.com.au/dateline/story/about/id/601721/n/Vanuatu-s-Broken-Dreams , as the large cruise landing fees seem to have disappeared, and ended up in Port Vila bank accounts. Perhaps the most bizarre story to emerge from the occasional influx of tourists is the construction of the modern amenity building near the shore. This has fresh clean water, and warm showers, and also uses a significant amount of the available water on the island. The building was funded entirely by Australian Aid, and should be seen as a great gift, and a major improvement to the lives of the locals where easy access to pumped clean water is difficult, and warm showers are unknown. Unfortunately the building is locked for most of the year, and only opened when a cruise ship arrives.
View from a trawlers bridge, Azov Sea, Uzbekistan
Clambering aboard one of the rusting trawlers in what was once the Azov sea I almost fell though the paper thin rusted deck into the hold. The ships are becoming dangerously rusted with a few now resembling skeletons with their ribs showing, due to the salt and lots of nasty chemicals being blown from the uncovered seabed.
As with the Azov sea itself, these trawlers will also disappear. It is modern environmental disaster ‘wonder of the world’ (as with Chernobyl, the destruction of the Amazon rainforest, and sadly many others) and well worth making the journey to see them, but remember there are no safety rails (and no hospitals) so travelers beware!
For more blog entries on the environmental disaster that is the Azov go to:
http://farflungplaces.tumblr.com/post/58417666137/the-death-of-a-sea-the-aral-sea-was-the-fourth
http://farflungplaces.tumblr.com/post/60624668062/faces-from-central-asia-the-fisherman-moynak
This is the last of my Central Asian blog entries, next will be Vanuatu, in the Pacific islands. Volcanoes, tribal dancing, and black magic will be sure to figure strongly.
Coconut palms, buckets of kava and reggae beats - Fest Napuan
This weekend is when the Fest Napaun takes over Port Vila. This has to be one of the best music festivals in the world. Attracting local and international acts, the atmosphere of this festival is unforgettable. Entrance is always free, and the locals converge on Saralana park (next to the Cultural centre and museum). Stalls are erected selling food from different islands, the Tanna bread cakes are particularly recommended, while Kava is brought in buckets from the Chiefs Nakamal.
Sipping on a BYO glass of chilled French Sauvignon Blanc while palm trees wave and local musicians perform is a great way to spend an evening. The crowd is relatively subdued, in a quiet, polite, Vanuatu kind of way, but always rewarding the performers with genuine applause after each song.
The festival is staged over a number of days, with the first day dedicated to string bands. String bands perform music based on Ukulele driven harmonies. Cool when I first saw it performed, I even tried to find a CD such was my initial taste for it, I will now run a million miles at the first Ukulele strum. Aaargh!!! What ruined it for me was staying next to one of the main sites for the Independence day celebrations. String bands descend on Port Vila from islands across Vanautu. Fascinating and fun for the first few days, but after 5 days of Ukulele strumming day in day out (it was literally 24 hours a day) and little sleep I felt myself going mad...
The day I love is the last, Sunday, when all styles of music are played, often finishing with Vanuatu band blong Tanna, Naio (pictured live at the festival above). One of the best reggae bands i have heard, mixing reggae beats with pacific rhythms. Check out their 'New Day' album from the small music shop behind Digicel in the main street of Vila, a great CD almost impossible to get outside of Vanuatu. They are not represented well on the web, but the odd video appears on youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIreFYn-sdY but does not do them full justice. Naio always get the crowd to their feet, swaying, singing and dancing, and the park remains full well after their the roadies have cleared away the gear, as the audience continue to laugh, talk and drink kava in the warm night air.
Port Vila, Vanuatu
Unless you island hop by yacht, Port Vila on Efate island is the entry point into Vanuatu. It has the international airport on it, a relic of world war two, providing a challenge to pilots as it is in a basin surrounded by four hills. There is often talk of a new airport being built to open up Vanuatu to more mass market tourism, I hope this remains only talk.
Port Vila is already the 'big smoke' to those on the outer islands, although incredibly relaxed and laid back when compared to Sydney. All business, and most of Efate's population live in Vila. One road circles the island, which when I first traveled there required a 4WD and incredible patience, and shock absorbers, to travel on it, but is now surfaced thanks to the US Millennium challenge. But almost all of the action is still in the islands capital.
Some of the many things I love about Vila.
The friendliness of the people.
The markets. The best place to pick up peanuts blong epi, and tasty fruit and vegetables (no chemicals used here)
Nambawan Cafe outdoor cinema nights, with the screen using the harbour as a great backdrop.
The fresh unpasteurised tusker beer on draft (has to be consumed within 5 days of being brewed in the brewery, so not always available)
The resorts. To cool off in the pool on a stinking hot day (most resorts will let you in, as long as you buy food or drinks).
The Kava bars. Sipping the numbing, murky, hypnotic, and bad tasting root of the Kava plant can be very addictive. Most bars have great views, and luckily for me, most had Tusker Beer as an alternative.
The amazing sunsets over the harbour.
Of Hats and mass burial sites
Hat Island, also known as Artok and Aretoka, is a sacred island 3km from Efate in Vanuatu. It became Vanuatu's first UNESCO site when it was added to the world heritage list in 2008. It is the site of a 13th century melanesian chief, Roi Mata, who unified many of the disparate Vanuatu islands under his leadership.
We arranged a local boat and skipper to take us out there. It was a much calmer day than on our previous voyage to Paama and we sped across to the aptly named island, it looked a green sombrero.
Our Skipper would not land, the island is still regarded by many as forbidden land, 'fanua tapa', due to it being the resting place of the chief and his wives. Coconut and Hermit Crabs scurried around the gravesites, marked with simple coral slabs and shells.
At the funeral of the chief all his twenty five wives and his retinue of up to three hundred were buried alive with him. Which is pretty unfortunate for all those who were close to the Chief. Helping rule the first Vanuatu kingdom one day, buried alive the next. His brother poisoned him, and he (successfully) wanted to rid Vanuatu of all those associated with Roi Mata. The site has only ever been partially excavated, and the skeletons of 54 people were found on the first dig before it finished.
The island is very quiet, there was little bird life and only the scurrying of the crabs made much sound. We were warned not to speak too loudly, or make too much noise, else we could wake the souls of those buried alive. A strange and eery place to visit.
An unexpected island, Paama. Vanuatu. Black Sands and Sharks
Lopevi, the spectacular cone volcano, was only about 15 km from Lamen Bay in Epi. I wanted to land on this little visited island and explore the lava flows and abandoned village, and arranged with a fisherman in Lamen Bay to take us out there on Sunday.
Sunday dawned and it seemed calm in Lamen Bay, but a little rougher out to sea. The fisherman were not too concerned, maybe because they were thinking of the 10,000 Vatu (US $100) boat hire we had agreed earlier. We left the relative tranquility of Lamen Bay and soon hit the swell between the islands. The waves were crashing into, and over, the boat soaking us and causing our son to be seasick. We continued this for another 30 minutes, but by then we were really being smashed around by the waves and had visions of the small craft being broken into pieces. Life jackets would not save us for long, and rescue services are non existent in these waters. We agreed with the skipper to land at a beach on an island we could see 1 km away.
It took a while to navigate to the beach and break through the surf, but we were all grateful to be on dry land again. We were on Paama, at the village of Tahal. They do not get many visitors here (the islands airport is in the far North, and we were on the Southern tip) and we were soon surrounded by the local children and were a major news item! My son Karl had endured a difficult crossing but was soon in his element chatting, laughing and racing the locals.
Paama had beautiful volcanic black sand beaches, but the Epi fisherman were uncomfortable. This beach had a reputation for shark attacks, with many fisherman having lost their lives in the last few years and they were eager to leave to return to the safety of their own island. There was a carving of a shark on the beach, which acted as a totem and protector for the local Paama fishermen.
We reluctantly boarded the fishing boat for our return journey, which although rough at times, was not as dangerous as our journey over.
Lopevi would have to wait for another time...
Coconuts, fishing and lying in a hammock
Epi is a great destination to just relax and contemplate life, while munching on fresh peanuts.
The beaches are black volcanic sand, and the water would be enticing, although it was a bit too rough for swimming and searching for the legendary Dugong which lives in the waters of Lamen bay. The waves did not stop the locals wading and then swimming into the waters with nets to catch their meals for the day.
We walked out of the village and into the lush interior. A local group of children soon started to follow us, playing with my son, and then showing off their foraging skills, giving us all kinds of fruit from the bush, and climbing the palm trees to get us fresh coconuts. They were so nimble and fast, climbing twenty metres off the ground and chucking the fresh coconuts down. I could not even begin to climb the smooth trunks, and I would have been petrified at those heights!
From the centre of the island the billowing smoke from Mt Benbow in Ambrym could be seen in the distance. At night the volcano would give off an eery orange glow as the lava reflected on the clouds above.
We returned back to our little hut on the beach, ready for the freshly caught fish and local yams for dinner, the hustle and bustle of Port Vila now long forgotten.
Flying to Lamen Bay, Epi, Vanautu
There are so many islands to explore in Vanautu, eighty three according to Wiki http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_islands_of_Vanuatu. But, unless you have a yacht you are constrained by the Air Vanuatu schedule. Epi was the choice this time, not a live volcano, although the island itself is the remains of one, and underwater volcanoes, and the cone volcanoes of Lopevi and Ambrym are neighbours.
Traveling on Air Vanuatu is always enjoyable, they do operate a bit on 'island time' and would not win awards for punctuality, but they are safe, comfortable and reasonably priced. And if you are in the front seat, as I was, there is no safety door and you get to see the pilots in action, which is getting rare in this air security obsessed world.
We took off from Port Vila, and flew over the island of Efate, landing on the grass runway at Lamen Bay in Epi only 30 minutes later. This time we were traveling as a family, and my wife and son, were in tow. We did not know a lot about Epi, except that it was an island paradise of about 3,000 people, far away from the 'hustle and bustle' of Port Vila (which is so laid back compared to Sydney) and that our favourite peanuts, sold in the markets at Port Vila, came from there.
And what a peanut, a 30 Vatu packet of nuts (stuffed in a small sealed bag) was a meal in itself. Cracking the lightly roasted shell, the crunchy fresh peanuts tasted unlike anything I had eaten before. No chemicals, no fertilizers, just the island soil. Totally addictive.
As we made our way to our small hut by the beach the first question to our host was where could we get some peanuts. After 5 minutes unpacking we heard a knock on the door, and we were presented with a huge bag of peanuts blong Epi (made in Epi). I was beginning to really like this place.
Mi Wantem Parcels (I want my Luggage)
The national language of Vanuatu is Bislama, a form of pidgin English mixed with the odd French word, thanks to the islands history being ruled by the Anglo-Franco condominium. A rather unique and bizarre joint colonial rule that lasted until independence in 1980. Wonderful stories exist of the rivalry between the French and British, such as paying for an independent Swiss national to oversee all flag raisings to ensure neither countries flag was higher!
The language is wonderful, being often phonetic representation of a word, ‘bugarup’ means broken (buggered up!). The notice above in the tiny airport at Craig Cove, Ambrym, can be literally translated as:
"Restricted Notice to the Public
The time the plane lands, please no man or woman go close up to the plane.
The reason is parcels are being lost many times as people grab them believing them to be theirs.
No more can you get close to the plane without signing a manifest to stop any confusion with the airport agent.
Time you get the parcel you do not wait very long at the office and you sign them out.
Respect”
Of course it was not followed in the slightest and the local populace converged on the plane after it had landed, jostling to grab parcels and luggage from the back of the plane…
Lopevi Volcano
Catching the plane back to Port Vila from Craig Cove, was giving to give me a great chance to see Mt Benbow from the air. But despite being a blue sky day, the whole of the volcano and surrounding caldera was shrouded in clouds and volcanic smoke. But, to make up for this, I did see the Lopevi volcano, about 8 km's from Ambrym.
Lopevi is a stratovolcano. It is now very active and, like Mt Benbow in Ambrym, it has its own weather system with the top of its cone hidden by clouds. The island is slowly growing with each eruption, and the lava flows from its last major eruption in 2008 eruption are clear.
Although now very active, it only had minor eruptions spaced far apart, and it was inhabited until 1960. That was when it lurched into hyper activity, destroying crops and villages, a pattern that is continuing, with nine eruptions in the last ten years. The islanders departed for Port Villa and Paama, and none have returned.
I landed back in Port Vila forty minutes later, having enjoyed, and sated my need to climb Volcanoes for a while, although this one does look interesting...
The magical Ambrym Rom dance
The walk down from the volcano did not quite work out as planned. After an exhausting eight hour walk down from Mt Benbow we sat and relaxed by the road. We had pre-booked the only car to pick us up. After an hour we realised the car was not coming and we started walking. And walking, it was easier then climbing over lava and mud, but I had dreamed of putting my feet up and letting a motor vehicle drive me down this track. We later learnt that the ute had broken down, and would be out of action for a while until a spare part came from Port Villa. So we did as the locals do, and walked.
After two further hours down the rutted track we came into a small village, where they were preparing to perform an initiation ceremony, the Rom dance. My tiredness melted away and I felt very privileged to be able to watch the wild dancing, to a regular beat played on a tam-tam and seed shakers, with the Rom mask dancers twirling and smashing the ground.
The Custom ceremony is male only, and is a portrayal of good vs evil, with the masked Rom dancers representing the evil spirits. The dances only occur in the middle of the year (July -> September) unless performed for special festivals.
I was in pain, with blisters on my feet and legs due to the volcanic trekking, and the forced walk down the bush track from the pick up point, but this physical, colourful and noisy dance I had witnessed made me thankful that the island car was unreliable.
Of Black Magic, Art and Custom
Ambrym is still relatively untouched by western thoughts and values, and traditional custom beliefs remain very strong, particularly in the North East and North West villages, maybe not coincidentally the furthest settlements from the 2 airports here.
Mt Benbow is the focus for much of the beliefs (and also for the surrounding islands like Malakula). It is dangerous, destroying a village in 1913, and its eruptions have caused evacuations on several occasions, yet it provides life through rich farming soil. Certain clans or groups are believed to be custodians of the volcano, and use it to threaten to cause it to erupt unless they get their way in village disagreements. Conversely, when it does erupt unexpectedly they get blamed and can be forced to escape to other islands for their safety.
Certain parts of the volcano are reserved for their spirits after they die, each village has their special area. Not knowing this, the early Christian missionaries failed dismally in their attempt to convert the local populace, the threat of a fiery end for their souls if they did not convert was not going to provoke fear when that was their future anyway!
My guide, from North Ambrym, was a firm believer in the traditional custom ways. The lava bombs he eagerly collected could be buried around his land to provide protection against those families who control the eruptions of the volcano. They could also be carved into faces and placed in other peoples homes to control them and cause "problems". These exact problems were not specified, but I can guess.
He was also an expert in sand drawings, a beautiful and unique way of telling ancient stories and beliefs by tracing a finger through the ash, in amazingly quick time. These are given as gifts to people, he kindly gave me these after I gave him my solar torch (he really needed it more than I did).
This beautiful drawing is called 'The Leaf man' and it represents the story of a local villager who went exploring and was about to be attacked by a group from a rival village. He placed a leaf on his head, and vegetation on his body for camouflage, and was able to move through the villagers without being seen. It took about thirty seconds to draw the symmetric and complex patterns, and after viewing it (and letting me quickly take one photograph) he destroyed it so others could not see it.
Thunder from the earth
Sleeping on a ridge next to an active volcano was an experience I will never forget. Mt Benbow in Ambrym was noisy all night long. There would be a period of silence, and then it would make a rumbling noise like thunder, which shook the ground, before subsiding to silence again. It was the ground shaking I was not used to. I have experienced a few earthquakes in both Tokyo and Port Vila, in Vanuatu, but these were one-off events. This was continuous, Benbow was displaying its power, and also its beauty, as the warm orange glow of its lave lake lit up the sky above it.
In the early morning, the volcanic rumblings were overshadowed by an intense tropical thunderstorm, which flooded the single man tents we were in. It was 4AM, sleep was now impossible, so we decided to collapse the tents, and store them to be picked up on our return journey, as we walked to the rim of the volcano. Fresh lava bombs lay on the path to the top, a constant reminder to stay alert and watch the volcano and sky at all times.
The bellowing smoke obscured the lava lake in the inner crater, with only occasional glimpses of the lava being possible. But the noise was tremendous, the sound was similar to massive waves breaking on the shore, and being sucked back out to sea again, as the lava moved backwards and forwards in its crater.
We stayed up there watching, listening and enjoying the activity and noise, before reluctantly starting the walk back to the tents, and to start the climb down out of the caldera.
I am climbing barefoot, heading for a spin, some strange music draws me in.. (*)
We were now in uncharted territory for me. Climbing canyons and lava flows are one thing, clambering up mountain sides with nothing to grab onto (oh how I miss those tree roots) and on a slippery ash based surface is another. We were climbing the caldera surrounding the Mt Benbow volcano in Ambrym. The scenery was bleak, volcanic acid rain had removed all vegetation, and it was 15C colder than the beginning of the trail.
'Trail' would be too kind a word, there is no well worn path. My guide Michael just climbed instinctively, knowing from experience the best way to go. To climb without a guide would be madness.
I was struck with that awful panic feeling, with butterflies in the stomach as I crouched placing each foot carefully one in front of the other as we did some serious climbing. One slip would mean serious injury. The winds felt gale force, which added to my instability. The grip on my Aussie Blundstone boots gave me some confidence, until I saw that Michael had taken off his old flip flops, stuffed them in his bag, and was climbing over this surface barefoot. He was also traveling at twice my speed.
There was a strange feeling of emptiness. There was no animal or visible insect life. In this huge caldera we were the only people climbing. It was not peak season, when maybe 5 people a day might attempt the climb.
We found a flat bit of ground at nightfall, and while putting up our tents Michael suddenly cried out with joy. He had a found a fresh lava bomb (a piece of lava that has solidified in the shape of a tear as it was flung out of the volcano). I was told these were extremely useful for black magic ceremonies. As happy as I was for him, I was more concerned about one or more of these landing on my tent in the night…
(*) With apologies to Patti Smith
Mud, lava and broken bones
Walking on black volcanic ash is not as easy as it looks. Initially it was hard and compacted, and like walking on a footpath, but soon it became loose and feet could disappear to above the ankle. The ground was still flat, but after about an hour we started to climb, and the ash ended, being replaced by lava and mud.
The weather also changed, Mt Benbow had its own weather system which seemed to vary between torrential rain and burning sun. I would get soaked to the skin, and then dry out in minutes. Thunder and lightning could be seen above the distant rim of the Volcano, and the white billowing smoke from its heart could be seen blowing out to sea to the west.
The climb became harder, the ground was slippery and we had to climb and descend old lava flows and canyons created by floods. There was little or no vegetation any more, and bird life had ceased. I focused on the music on my mp3 player to motivate me to climb, the more aggressive songs the better, early 'The Damned' tracks in particular helped. We stopped every half an hour, drank water and talked.
Michael was an experienced guide, telling me he did this trip maybe once or twice a month, and his last group had been filming for National Geographic. He had to carry his own pack, and heavy camera equipment, as the team struggled to climb the trail. He had not lost anyone, yet, although had come close when a tourist had lost his footing climbing the crater and had slipped sixty metres over sharp lava and rocks, resulting in a broken leg and many abrasions. Michael carried him on his back the 12 km's to the road, and an air ambulance was organised.
I now paid more attention to my foot placement.
Climbing the Volcano
My host booked the car for 5:00AM, again the local pigs removed any need for my alarm clock. When I say the car, I mean "The Car". West Ambrym has one taxi (and I believe East Ambrym may have another one, which makes for only 2 cars on this island!). The Blue ute arrived on time, and for 1000 Vatu (approx $10 US) drove me from Craig Crove to Yaotille, an even smaller village about 5km away.
The roads were wonderful. Muddy, rutted, and criss-crossed by streams coming down from the Volcanoes, but surrounded on both sides (and on occasion overhead) by lush vegetation. I was glad I was in the cabin, as this afforded a little more comfort via the seat and stabilizers. In the open back of the ute, where we had already gathered 2 locals off to other villages, the bouncing would have made life somewhat difficult.
I got out at Yaotille, grabbing my one man tent and backpack, and waited by another Tam-Tam, as the driver went off to find Michael. Michael was a local guide who would take tourists to climb Mt Benbow, if they were mad enough. A tall, thin man emerged from a hut and shook my hand. We quickly agreed a price (12,000 Vatu, about $120 US) and jumped back in the ute for a short 1km drive to a black volcanic stream. Grabbing our bags we jumped out, and started to walk on a slight incline on the black ash. I was already thinking this was easier than expected...