Captain's Blog

A Series of Incidental Adventures

[whiterabbitpeak]

Siem Reap.

The Holy city of Temples, Tuk-Tuk’s and Traveler troubles – Mad Floors and shiz.

Captains Log Day 8 - 22/03/17 10:55 pm. Malaysia Air MH146

The Captain was able to connect back into the grid just before his HCMC departure, lucky enough he did so as he was able to discover that he had received a last-minute email from the hotel that Admiral and he were staying at. The email advised them that the residence was over booked and despite my two-month advanced booking we were going to be moved to the sister hotel that was located 10 minutes away from the venue. This deeply upset both the Admiral and Captain, they had no option, with an angry email to the hotel, they confirmed that they had been shifted and that a carrier would be sent to pick them up at the Airport. However, upon landing there was no receiver waiting. Blood boiling to match the temperature outside, the Captain and Admiral took a TukTuk or remork to the updated hotel discussing remork life, and how we would sell our cars in Australia and just sponsor a remork driver to live with us and drive us around, despite the laughter they both knew that their Cambodian travels had begun on a rocky start. At the new hotel, one could not get angry at the staff, it was not their fault, management had dealt the card to the Captain and the staff were only doing their job. Despite some initial tension, the staff escorted us to our room, they were apologetic in regards to the transport not being present and offered to compensate by offering complementary transportation on departure.

Although upset, the Admiral and Captain checked into the hotel and freshened up. They had organised a deal with the TukTuk driver to take them straight to the mighty Angkor Wat – The reason both the Captain and Admiral had decided to visit Cambodia. Geography Lesson #1: What is Angkor Wat? – “Angkor Wat is a temple complex in Cambodia and the largest religious monument in the world, with the site measuring 162.6 hectares (1,626,000 m2; 402 acres).  It was originally constructed as a Hindu temple of god Vishnu for the Khmer Empire, gradually transforming into a Buddhist temple towards the end of the 12th century” – thanks Wikipedia.

A visit to Angkor Wat had been on the Captain’s bucket list for a significantly long time – He had dreamed of visiting the ruins ever since he had seen photographs and discovered in a year 8 quiz that it’s the largest Hindu temple in the world (not sure if his incorrect answer stemmed his desire or the sheer curiosity.) Grabbing tickets, we were taken away from the city to visit the ruins, thus started our temple run. The hot sun blaring on our backs, sizzling our skin crispy, sweat creating puddles across our bodies we ventured out of the TukTuk. Walking through the gates of the Great Angkor Wat gave the captain goosebumps, the surreal feeling overwhelming. Hypnotized by the grandeur of the ruins we tread towards the entry. With barely any sales pitch we agreed to the first tour guide that approached us, after waiting his life the Captain had not had the patience to bargain or discuss price. The tour began, explaining the history of the king and the kingdom that built this temple, the wars that were fought over it and the transition of it from a Hindu temple to Buddhist. We walked around half engaged, our minds just marveling at the greatness of the ruins. Photos don’t do this justice. The Captain and Admiral got blessed and their futures told by a Buddhist monk and shortly after the tour ended. This is where one of the favorite parts of the tour for the Captain commenced. Free Roam. We were allowed to walk around the temple, explore the giant grounds, climb, run, walk, anything. It was great – the Captain gave the Admiral a heart attack when he walked on the ledge of the third storey of the temple. The heat starting to play games on their minds, the Admiral was pointing out a structure to the Captain, to which the heat stroked Captain responded “Yeah, Mad Floors and Shit” – not knowing what he was saying. The Admiral pointed out his poetic comment, meaning it was time for the delusional captain to farewell the temple grounds. Walking back to the TukTuk was a mission. The 400-meter path felt like kilometers in the dessert being crossed by Bedouins. Struggling and finally reaching the TukTuk we stopped for some cold refreshments before continuing our temple run. We then visited two other major temples and spent time exploring, the first was Bayon temple. The Bayon's most distinctive feature is the multitude of serene and smiling stone faces on the many towers which jut out from the upper terrace and cluster around its central peak  – once again this temple was huge. We walked the grounds posing for photos and trying to soak in the glory. After losing the TukTuk driver and doing a round of the perimeter, we finally got in the TukTuk for our third and final temple - Ta Phrom. unlike the other Angkorian temples, Ta Prohm was in much the same condition in which it was found: the photogenic and atmospheric combination of trees growing out of the ruins and the jungle surroundings. Trees and overgrowth over time had caused this ancient temple to collapse, although restoration works are underway the charm of this beast was the large collapsed rocks and the caved in rooms with roots weaving their way through them. Once again the wonder could not be captured, and if photos say a thousand words, being there and experiencing will write you novels. Temple’d out, we headed back to our hotel for some rest, the lack of sleep the night before, the scorching temperatures had the life of us drained.

Refreshed after a nap and shower, it was time for the Captain to enter his element as they got ready to hit up the famous Siem Reap Pub street for a night on the town. The street was full of activity, life, street traders, shops, music bars, the likes of which can only be compared to places like Khoa Sao road in Thailand, or a Portuguese Pub Crawl on NYE. Starving, the Captain thought it was best to get a drink in our systems before we ate, seemed logical right? There it was, Angkor What? Bar, a tourist landmark, famous for its writing on the walls, this place had seen millions of tourists over the years, it glistened on every travel guide. We stopped for a sneaky drink before we started our quest to try and find some burgers (craving) to eat. It seemed like forever before we found some food – mainly because the Captain was interested in exploring although the Admiral had different ideas which were showing (HUNGRY). Bellies full we headed to some shops and some more exploring to burn off some of the carbs, it was at this point the Captain started getting restless as all the night owls came out to play.  Finishing up with Shopping we headed straight back to Angkor What? Where a challenge tickled the fancy of the Captain, A deal that said if you get two alcoholic buckets you get a free tee-shirt. To test our limits however we ordered one bucket to start – a measly 6 x 50 ML shot – first up was a Moscow Mule. We shared this giant vessel of euphoric liquid and made friends with the amazing waiter @say – he had some great conversation with us and taught he Admiral some very cool bar tricks. One bucket in and that Tee-shirt was looking more achievable. We ordered a second and asked our new friend @ say if we could get a tee- he pulled some strings and the mission was semi accomplished – the side effects sat on the table in front of us – a Vodka Mojito. We sipped on our oversized beverage and in the true spirt of the bar left a scripture on the table, this one a quote from the mighty Co-Captain @avrill “Never Say No! Mort!”. At this point to our realisation the club opposite to us – Temple Club, had filled up, dancing had commenced on the streets, we watched as the toxins took control of inhibition. As the mighty vessel reached the final drops, we ordered two more cocktails, of a much more reasonable size this time, although the Long Island Ice tea felt like it had much more concentration of alcohol. Feeling ill and the music taking control we headed across the road for a boogie, shortly inside the Admiral and Captains thoughts synchronized to “we are too old for this” leaving promptly we headed to Yolo Bar. Here things were going mental, the crowd in polar opposite to where we had been, A Backpacker hub, where people were dancing on the streets and madness was everywhere. Quickly the two were able to join the madness, it seemed that Mr Mule and Mrs Mojito had led us over the sanity fence and unwillingly we rushed to the other side. Dancing, singing with the others time began to fly and memories start to fade, at some point the Captain found himself at the bar with a tourist who bought him a Jagerbomb, the Captain obliged and out of respect downed the shot. Later in the night a person came over with a Barbequed Snake on a stick, laughing and dancing he took a bite and passed it to the Captain, confused, time slowed down as he took a fairly large chunk off the stick and started chewing. The taste was disgusting, the scales littered his mouth, the chewing didn’t seem to end as it was like eating rubber with a distinct taste, cringing he passed the stick to the Admiral. The look on the face of the Admiral said it all – HELL NO! after some drunk banter and some convincing she took a tiny bite, chewing twice before spitting it out. almost vomiting we rushed her to the bar and ordered two Jagerbombs to wash the taste down, gagging as the warm Jager went down. Stumbling we left Yolo bar, and since it was too early to go home and wanted the snake magic to kick in we decided to head back for a final cocktail at Angkor What? again – bad idea. More Cocktails ordered – the Admiral had an Arm Wrestle with another tourist from Netherlands, the Captain made friends with Divers from Wales, the words came out as a slur. It was time to call it a night and head back to the Hotel. The time was 3 am and with the insistent TutTuk drivers and an inkling that we may get sick – we decided to walk back to the hotel. This was a bad decision. As we walked we saw some of our friends, they walked with us for a bit until they turned off and we continued through a dark laneway to our hotel. We were only 5 minutes from the Hotel where a man on a scooter approached the admiral on a motorbike slowed down and asked “would you like a lift?”, she responded “No No” at this point he snatched her Purse, yanking it, breaking her straps and riding off. The Admiral yelled “Hay!!” the Captain was off, Chasing the bike, without knowing what happened screaming at the top of his lungs “OI, OI!!” too late, he sped off and turned the corner, the Admirals bag was gone. The contents included cash, her cards, her phone. We both praised the lords and the powers that be that her Passport was sitting at the hotel and was SAFE.   Distressed we ran to the Hotel where reception called the police and advised us that we need to go to the tourist police station in the morning when it opened. Defeated, drunk and stressed the Admiral spent the next two hours calling the banks and cancelling her cards, whilst at some point the Captain passed out.

Opening his eyes, the pain unbearable the Captain reached out for his medication, the last night’s toxins were in his system and his head felt like there was a jack hammer pounding inside. This was no ordinary hangover, he could feel the onset of a migraine creeping. Looking over he saw the Admiral passed out on the laptop. Taking his pills, he closed his eyes and slept once again. His eyes opened again as the clock hit 2 PM – he got up and woke the admiral who was ready to go, getting dressed quickly the duo left the hotel and rushed to the police to report the incident the night before. The Tourist police had us document our statement and then referred us on to the large tourist police station the other end of town, taking a TukTuk we rushed there as the clock creeped towards 5pm. The tourist police station was a very traumatic experience. At first we were harassed as to why we didn’t come earlier (migraine) and then the conversation turned to why the Admiral did not fall over when her bag was snatched, the tone and constant implication that we were lying getting the better of us when we had an outburst and reached out to call the Embassy. We were encouraged to do so by the police, saying we are only doing our job, and that is what we will tell the embassy. However, we were told none of the phones had any credit – The Captain pointed out “but this is a police station?!” – my observation was acknowledged but no still the officers had no credit. We gave up, and continued our attempt to get a police report made. The police explained how this was now a criminal case, they needed to contact local police and they, needed to have proof in order to make and release a police report. They need evidence that we were robbed and since our incident happened with no one around and no cameras this was going to be hard to prove. Deeply upset and defeated we documented our timings for the night, wrote down the incidents that happened and answered all their questions. Interrogation went on for 2 hours and at the end we were defeated. They did not release the police report and said they would be back tomorrow to the hotel to investigate. At this point we had very unexpected assistance from one police officer, however no report. With no other options left we thanked the police officer that tried to help and headed back to town, hoping shopping will get our mind off things. It temporarily did. It was then time to visit the nicest restaurant in town, and one of the top restaurants in Asia - Cuisine Wat Damnak. This was a highly-regarded restaurant in Siem Reap celeb chef Joannes Riviere. The menu delivered the ultimate contemporary Khmer dining experience. This was fancy, the flavours and textures indescribable, fine dining at its best. The Chef Joannes, heard of our troubles the night before and was nice enough to come over and have a chat about the incident, he was charming and a very nice man. We both felt humbled, our hearts felt a little comfort in this unknown city. A last round of shopping and fulfilling the Captain’s Indian food craving at d’Tandoor, we headed back to stuff pack our bags and complete our final night in Siem Reap. The adventure was almost over, as the Captain and Admiral parted ways, the former off back to base and the latter flying to Singapore to continue her adventure. The Captain was fortunate to have the business class experience during his flight stopping in KL and hitting up the b lounge for a shower and a casual 4 vodka sodas and few snacks. Landing in the best city in the world, he was home. Arriving at 9:30am the captain was at work by 10:30am he reflected on his journey, his adventure overseas was over, he had survived another trip. He returned home with a few more notches on his belt and some scars to show for his travels. The Captain was ready and looking forward to his next adventure but at the moment he was running late to a meeting. He entered the room and said sampeah.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Ho Chi Minh.

The city of resistance, defeating the enemies till they were Sai’gone.  

Captains Log Day 6 - 20/03/17 9:45 am. Cambodia Air K6 809.

WARNING – This entry contains Food Posts.

Several Hanoi’ng delays later, the Captain and Admiral landed in the city of Ho Chi Minh, instantly throwing off their jackets and attempting to acclimatise to the raging heat, unlike the rainy and cold North, the South side of the country was sweltering. The bustling airport flooded with people and like the weather, it was a contrast to Hanoi. Hailing a cab, we rushed to the airport to check in and commence exploring, we had to make up for lost flight time.

It was not long till the Captain and his sidekick were on the streets, the morning rush had them tinkering for some quick eats (Warned you) – we headed to a renowned eatery in the district called Propaganda. Hipster alert. This place was hip. It was a nice Vietnamese cafe, it looked like it had fallen out the Melbourne hipster manual and had been teleported from Brunswick. Over ordering as usual, we gulped down on some absolutely delicious food – the Admiral had finally gotten Pho in Vietnam and was in a very happy place, likewise the Captain was Banh’ing hard. Once the feast was over the Captain warned the Admiral that the place next on the agenda was not for the faint hearted, with a worried look on her face she accompanied the Captain to the War remnants’ museum. Much like the previous visit of the Captain, the eeriness and sadness was evident in everything held in the premises. After doing the tourist thing and posing with the tanks and planes, it was time to be educated on the horrors that took place in the region. What followed was history lesson 101 and a devastating realisation of all the terrible things that mankind is possible of inflicting on others. There were points in this visit where both the Captain and Admiral teared up, overwhelmed with sadness and disgust. Words cannot describe this place and the stories that lay within. Would recommend anyone that visits the city to go here and read, learn and share stories with friends. Walking out of the museum we held a strong sense of respect for the people that were involved in such hard times. With doom and gloom on our minds and some heavy discussion topics we decided to walk straight to Ben Thanh Market to get our minds off things. We stopped at a Hindu temple and said a small prayer for what we had seen, we prayed for the families and thanked god for our blessings. Still freaked out the Admiral was on a google spree to ensure that we were not poisoned by Agent Orange. We reached the market and to our disappointment, the market was overpriced – after visiting the Hanoi markets, the Captain was put off  and the amount of bargaining he would need to do to get even the smallest thing – not worth the trouble. The Admiral and Captain left the market abruptly and headed home for a swim in the Jacuzzi Pool. WTF is a Jacuzzi pool you ask? (I had NFI what it was) – it is a Spa with a small swimming area that has water which pushes you back as you swim towards it. Reminded the Captain of a carrot on a string in front of the horse. After finishing up a never-ending swim and doing a TON of laundry, the mission was to find out where the cloths can hang to dry, the Captain felt like a Megastructures engineer attempting to come up with locations. As our room felt like a humidifier due to the wet cloths, we got dressed and headed to our first fancy dinner for the trip Eon51 restaurant. Located on the 51st floor of the Bitexco Financial Tower, this fine dining restaurant came with a side of breath-taking views of HCMC. The Admirals treat for the Captain’s aging 30th birthday.  Although there was a slight disagreement with the waiter about customising the set menu/ adding alcohol to a mocktail, the dinner was just amazing – the photos of the meals or the view don’t do any justice. Rolling out of the restaurant, we felt that the lift would break due to over inflated bellies. As a last bit effort to find some affordable shopping we found Hanh Thong Tay Market, which was located 40 minutes away from the dinner current location. Ordering an uber we tracked it as it broke at least four road rules to reach us. Once in, it was a race against time, pushing hard to reach the market before it shut shop, arriving just in time to see the shutters close. The inner drive got the better of us and we decided to explore. Being the only foreigners, this seemed to be a local market, as we walked around, the vibe started changing “from ‘buy everything’ to a ‘stab and rob’ vibe hoping not to die we quickly hailed a cab and headed back to safety.

The second day started with the Admiral and Captain stuffing their faces with some breakfast, followed by packing some lunch for our day ahead. They headed downstairs where the Cu Chi Tunnels Tour Bus was waiting, we were the last pickup and the bus was waiting for 15 minutes (opps). Off we went to explore the elaborate 250 KM of tunnels in which the resistance forces fought the corrupt and evil government. We shared the bus with some very interesting people, two couples from Australia, a couple Spain and a very disgruntled American ex-tennis player named Bob. The tour was crazy, since the captains last venture to HCMC 5 years ago, the crowds had increased at least 10-fold. the crowds combined with the heat resulted in a very unbearable tour of the tunnels, nonetheless the Admiral was resilient as she ventured into the 80cm by 100 cm wide tunnel network, going through like a mole, she completed the course. The tunnels complete it was the Captains favorite part – the Shooting. Although none of the tour participants except the Captain and Admiral opted to go to the range, the Captain was keen, picking his weapon of choice the AK47 they headed to the Very loud shooting range. Concerned and worried the Admiral selected the M60 machine gun. BANG BANG – some rounds were shot. A frazzled and concerned Admiral appeared, disgusted at how easy it is to inflict evil with such weapons. Finishing up a the tunnels the bus was loaded, everyone except Bob passed out as we headed to the Mekong delta two hours away for the second part of the tour. The Captain had reached new waters – the Mekong Delta. The second longest river in the world, bordered by rice fields that produce 7 million tons of rice a year. The Captain in his element jumped on a boat led by the pirate tour guide, on the Boat the squad of tourists and Bob crossed the Mekong and landed at Unicorn Island. On the Island a few things happened including, Drinking Bee honey tea, made from Queen bee honey and Bee Pollen, holding the bees that made the honey, manhandling a random Python, Python almost strangling the Captain as other noob tourists had pissed it off, eating some random local fruits, drinking Pandan tea, Local fisherman girl singing ‘if your happy and you know it’, a golf cart ride in which the Captain tried to bargain to drive the golf cart, visiting a coconut candy factory and finally a bamboo boat ride down a small river canal with Bob. With that the tour ended and we boarded our three hour bus ride back to the hotel. The bus ride was spent interrogating Bob, genuinely another Pirate, unfortunately not much was found out, except that he travels the world, doesn’t work, was born in Congo and grew up in Egypt, he almost got gored by bulls in Spain and that Pat Cash got Gift Cards when he won Wimbledon – the Admiral was passed out so she missed out on the interesting story time After getting home and getting changed, the Captain and Admiral headed to our second exciting dinner for the trip – this was going to be at Noir – Dining in the Dark. This my friends was an experience never to forget – Arriving at the restaurant, we were greeted by friendly staff and offered a page in which the menu was described. The menu had details about the flavours but not what we were going to eat. Soon after selecting which set menu we would like (veg - western) as well as what we would like to drink, a deaf and mute waiter came over and handed us a puzzle and a blind fold. This was a test to what was to come. Both the admiral and captain struggled as they tried to complete the puzzle with the blindfold. Shortly after we were briefed about how the room will be (Pitch Dark) and what to do if you feel overwhelmed i.e close your eyes etc.  Then a blind waitress came and introduced herself. She was to be our waiter for the night and she was totally blind. We were escorted up the stairs hand on shoulder into a pitch-black room, the blind waitress explained where everything on the table was and left. At first the Captain was overwhelmed and thought he was seeing things, but after a while things got better and he was able to start exploring with his hands, the cutlery, the glasses. The meals started coming out – four dishes at a time, the Admiral and Captain spent time describing what they tasted and the flavours. Often the Admiral had her spoon upside down and the Captain ended up with food on his cloths, but the experience was AMAZING. The food had complex flavours that were really hard to guess, but kept us on our toes. Once the Meal ended, the beautiful waitress escorted us out, an hour and a half after being in pitch darkness, the light made us dizzy. Slowly we came back to reality as a waited came over and started explaining what we ate. Some of our guesses were a fair bit off, some very accurate, the food was delicious and the experience unforgettable. Finishing up we headed to the night market for some final shopping before retreating to our hotel for our final sleep in HCMC and getting ready for our TEMPLE RUN in Cambodia the next day.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Hanoi.

The South East Asian gem hidden in a within a Tungsten North

Captains Log Day 4 - 18/03/17 8:26 am. Jetstar Flight BL791.

The residue of a four-day bender was stuck to the Captain like a well-crafted Gỏi cuốn ( Vietnamese rice paper roll). The hangover, thirty years in the making was dealt out as a result of a three-day long celebration, filled with love, friends, and a whole heap of decisions that the body was now regretting. The early morning alarm buzzed, it was not required, the sandman had forgotten to visit or had gotten lost in the aftermath. The Captain softly tapped the Admiral on the shoulder, the three-day blur of celebrations was just about to get extended as the travelling duo were about to embark on another adventure to the unknown, this time it was the land of the Dragon and a visit to the Khmer empire.

Transport had arrived, however the Admiral had to make one quick stop to her place as she had overlooked to take a key piece of documentation, her passport. The journey had begun, as we took our first flight to KL, followed by a flight to Ho-Chi-Minh and lastly to reach our final destination, Hanoi. The travel time for the journey was, eighteen hours, with twelve hours of flight time and the remaining time spent in stopovers. The grand hangover and missing the sandman the previous few nights meant that, the twelve hours spent flying was consumed by a zombie like sleep. With delays and transit (and the hour-long taxi ride from the airport) the Captain was able to check into the residence at one in the morning. The residence for this leg, was a room that smelt so heavily of paint that both the Admiral and Captain were getting mild headaches from the scent, however with the fatigue, we continued our chroming and decided to adapt to the fumes. The exhaustion that came from the flights and stopovers (as well as the possible high from the fumes), there was not a chance that Admiral or the Captain was going to undertake any adventures for the night. The first night in Hanoi rather was spent establishing contact with Co-Captain and his first lieutenant who were also visiting the city.

Early morning once again the Captain’s eyes opened as the sun shone through the very freshly painted window, it was time to execute a plan of action for the day’s activities. he quickly contacted the co-captain and organised a meeting point. After some drama with an absent-minded (noob) tour organiser we had a private car to take us to the beautiful Ha Long bay for the day.

Reuniting with the first lieutenant and the co-captain at their hotel we all boarded a vessel and set forth to how long day. This is also the moment that we met our dizzy car driver. We still don’t know his name, although he started yelling when the Nguyen Song came on (must be his favorite). The remainder of the four-hour drive to Ha Long bay consisted of carpool karaoke between the co-captain and the driver of traditional Vietnamese songs, that were blaring over the car stereo throughout the journey – at this point it is important to note that the co-captain does NOT speak any Vietnamese. To add some further excitement to the journey some random points the dizzy driver grabbed the co-captain’s leg and squeezed it, once again there was no warning or precursor to this action. Later in the journey the co-captain got his revenge and also grabbed the driver’s leg without warning. The reason is still not known to any other passengers in the car. Another interesting moment was when the co-captain asked the driver to stop for a toilet break, since the dizzy driver did not understand English google translate was used, this resulted in shouting war between the co-captain and driver. We also did not stop for another twenty minutes. Once again reasons unknown to all in the car. After many intimate moments between the dizzy driver and co-captain and stopping at a pearl factory, the party finally reached Ha Long Bay. Here we quickly were ushered onto a boat with another tour and fed some very extravagant (but bland) lunch on a private table, as the boat  went along island rocks. Meanwhile our Dizzy driver somehow made it to the top of the boat and the boat Captain had to stop and come over to ask him to get down. The party then spent the day cruising the bay, going on a bamboo boat and visiting some caves, we also had a tour guide commentary explaining how some of the rocks we passed looked like animals or objects. “look Scooby doo rock!”. We came to the realization that whoever named these rocks were on some serious amount of special Pho. Soon after exploring the caves it was time to bid the bay, g’day and return back to our dizzy driver.

The journey back was even more exciting and although our driver was not grabbing the co-captains leg he was busy piloting our ride through some local highway traffic. There were moments when we were a few centimeters off hitting someone, or going head on into a truck/bus. The music continued to blare and the Nguyen song, motivated Mr Dizzy like never before. Finally, we made it back to Hanoi City. A quick freshen up and we regrouped at a very fancy, but delicious restaurant suggested by the co-captain – Madame Hien. Here the food was fantastic, until the raw chicken came to the table, the chicken was so raw that we could hear it cock-o-doodling. The Captain explained how it was raw, however the staff insisted that is medium and red, like the duck we had ordered. It was a struggle to explain why pink chicken = bad. It was fine in the end, they decided to replace it, new chicken…. Also pink. Game over, and although the rest of the courses and the cocktails were fantastic, it was time to say goodbye and hope that the next few hours alcohol consumption killed the salmonella that was breeding in our stomachs. We headed to another bar and sat and drank until the Admiral fell asleep on the table, an indication that it was time to go. We said our farewells, as we were greeted by a street rat, and walked back to our hotels.

The next morning, the slight hangover shone its ugly head, we quickly got ready and met up with the co-captain and first-lieutenant in search for shoes and a shirt for the wedding which was on later in the day. We visited a huge market, in search for the co-captain’s shoes, and as we approached every store the storekeepers looked at the co-captain, looked down at his feet and signaled us to move on, others shook their heads and said “Too BIIG, Too BIIG”, we later found out the largest sizes these shoes had was a size nine, far too small for the co-captain. The Captain was fortunate to find a shirt for the wedding without issue, however the search for the shoes continued, as the time was running out. after visiting a few malls, we were able to find an Aldo that stocked the right sizes. Rushing we headed back, got ready and made it just in time for the traditional ceremony of Ray and Linh. Surrounded by family the simple giving away of the daughter, was emotional and heartfelt. We made some new friends and coordinated some drinks before the reception was to begin. This is when things got a little too messy. Conversation, laughs got the better of us and three long island ice-teas at an English pub later, we were stumbling out and heading to our hotels to change for the wedding. The Captain took this opportunity to hydrate as much as possible in order to survive the night.

The reception was grand. It was like the Oscars, red carpet, crystal, spotlights even a catwalk was set up – the MC announced the wedding couple and then the onslaught of food started, course after course this was going to be a big feed. Trying his best not to slur and hoping all the water he had drank started taking an effect, the Captain nibbled on the food. This is when the Vodka glistened on the table as the waiter dropped off three bottles, and a heap of shot glasses. Using the Lazy Susan in a very efficient way, the Co-Captain loaded the shots for the table. This continued for the next few hours until 2 bottles were gone and so were half the people there. Realizing it was our cue to leave, we finished up, and made a plan to regroup again after we got changed and ready for a night out. Not long after the Captain heard the distress calls from the bathroom, as he felt the vibration in his pocket. It was the First Lieutenant, sending out a beacon that the Co-Captain was in trouble. The Captain rushed to the bathroom, and found one of the cubicles locked with a grunting bear like noise coming from inside. It was the Co-Captain. As the Captain tried to knock, there would be no response. At this point the Captain went to the cubicle next door, climbed the toilet seat, only to see vomit EVERYWHERE! The Co-Captain looked up and both burst out in a fit of laughter. The Co-Captain used the water hose to clean the regurgitated food and they both emerged from the toilet triumphant.

Following this debacle and with the wedding reception over, they all parted ways to go back to their abodes to change and then head out. We all made a pact to meet up again after we changed into civilian clothes. The Admiral and Captain went home, changed and then made a quick detour to 4ps Pizza for a snack – This place was amazing. Better pizza than most in Melbourne. Scoffing down our meals we met up with the crew later at a bar. At this point the Captain tried to reach out to the Co-Captain, but hope was lost. He was not in good shape. The remaining troops were out in full force later joined by the bride and groom, the crew were drinking, smoking sheesha and having a big night, we bounced from one bar (Bar Prague) when it shut to Club Theater, for some dancing. As time went on some of the troops thinned out leaving a core group. This was only disbanded when the last remaining club switched on the lights. The Wedding day was over, and the Admiral and Captain headed back towards home, making a quick pit stop for some random street burritos and nachos.

Fighting to open his eyes, the Captain awoke to a warm room, meaning that it was afternoon time, his head was still pounding from the music from the night before. His aging body was not used to this. The Admiral and Captain moved at slug speed to get ready and head out of the hotel. The Co-Captain and First Lieutenant, had departed to Hong Kong, meaning that day would be dedicated to sight-seeing and exploration. Struggling out of bed first destination was Giang Café, the Captain and Admiral had been recommended to try the local famous egg coffee, and Giang was famous for being the best. Creeping down an ally way they found a hidden café, bustling with people- here they were able to try the egg coffee, it was like a condensed milk latte with an egg on top, although as a thought it was strange, the drink tasted awesome. Leaving on a caffeine high and able to process basic directions next was the lake of the returned sword. Here the Captain and Admiral crossed a river bridge and went to temple in which resided a giant turtle statue.  Starving from the adventure and the hangover kicking in the temple was followed by lunch at a Lotteria, a fast food chain initially recommended, which turned out to be terrible fried goop. Later as the Captain and Co-captain were walking they got grabbed by Major Matt and commander Jess, who joined them on the expedition for the day. First up for the awesome foursome was the Hoa la Jail – a restored prison that was a benchmark example of Vietnamese torture and pain – it was so bad that in irony the USA named it the Hanoi Hilton. It was a political prison where the prisoners were held, interrogated, tortured and killed, The Captain & Major marveled at the guillotine and the beheadings it had carried out as eerie music played. All this pain had our appetite restored and the squad headed to the French district for some pastries and cake. Just as the cake finished up the night market opened its doors – we walked the streets for kilometers, searching for bargains and getting hassled – the Major was able to pick up some Anime figures that he was looking for, the Admiral was in wonderland, hypnotized by bargains and the variety. The never-ending market continued on, however the squadron headed back, as it was time for the Water Puppet show. Hard to describe. Water puppet show is just that, a semi submerged theater of puppets, with music and a whole lot of “no idea what is going on” – highly recommended. The show ended up and the appetite was restored, we headed to the gourmet corner a restaurant recommended by a person at our hotel. Upon entering the place looked mega fancy, heading to the rooftop even more so. The food was nice, however when the Captain complained that the Coq au Vin had too much wine (lol), the staff rushed over to offer a discount. Service was impeccable. Finishing up Dinner we bid farewell to our friends and headed back for a few hours of shut eye till our flight down the delta to the South.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Kuala Lumpur.

An Explosive Metropolis of Food, Culture and Life.

Captains Log Day 10 - 03/01/17 6:17pm. AirAsia X Flight D7212.

Like the explosive, magnificent, and utterly breathtaking fireworks, the Captain was soaring high. The clock struck 12, 2016 clicked over, the first seconds of 2017, an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction filled the soul of the Captain. He was in bliss. Surrounded by old friends and new, the year began with sheer happiness, reflected brightly in the fireworks that filled the skies. Malaysia had delivered.

The descent from the island paradise to the hustle and bustling KL was not ideal, the leg of the journey coming with delays, missing passengers, dramatic overhead announcements of the pilot requesting patience, as the crew unloaded all the suitcases in search for one. The one hour journey into town had the Captain and Admiral fascinated by the size of the city, on the horizon they could see the shimmering lights of the Petronas Twin Towers. The Captain’s plan to re-enact the movie Entrapment was finally coming to fruition, the only thing missing was the diamonds and Catherine Zeta Jones. The diamonds we could live without.

Hotel drama once again from Expedia had us upgraded to a Large apartment located in Time Square (Yep still in KL). Time Square is a GIANT shopping mall, spread across multiple towers. The complex includes hundreds of shops, consisting of local and international brands, a hotel, spa, pool, apartments, oh and a multi-level theme park with a roller coaster. Not only is this mall a one-stop-shop, it also is situated in the heart of KL. The apartment and views did not disappoint, however due to the lost time that came with the delays, it was late, dinner was going to be a gourmet selection of foods from the local 7/11.  

The Captain’s favorite day of the year was finally upon us - New Year’s Eve. The day, began with a quick visit to the famous shopping strip of petaling street, followed by roaming around central market for some gifts and souvenirs. Here once again we tried to exchange our Myanmar money, only to get a third of what we paid for it – Tip for travelers, convert your Myanmar money before you leave the country, it is worthless everywhere else in the world. A few haggle battles later it was time to meet Comrade Kris for some lunch. The Comrade had chosen a place where they had 14 different types of mojitos, we were not complaining. It was a pretty cool place, finally the Captain and Admiral, got a chance to catch up with Kris and his new-found friend. The mojitos were an added bonus. We were briefed on some NYE plans and soon after, bid our friends goodbye and headed to Batu caves. Looks like it’s time for another Wiki break -  Batu Caves is a limestone hill that has a series of caves and cave temples in Gombak, Selangor, Malaysia. The cave is one of the most popular Hindu shrines outside India, and is dedicated to Lord Murugan. Thanks, Wikipedia, here is the Captain’s description of the caves – Steps. Lots of Steps. Monkeys. Rocks hanging from the roof. Roof leaking. Pretty cool non-the less. Departing Batu caves the NYE celebrations were approaching. With the Captain’s facial hair looking massively untamed, we set off on a quick search for deforestation expert (barber). Time was running out and every adequate beauty parlor we went to was either inadequate to handle the responsibility or booked out. Running out of time, we accepted defeat, the Captain investing in his own razorblade and returning to the apartment, hands full of water bottles and bread to line the stomach for the night to come.   Preparation for the night began with the commencement of grooming ceremonies. Everything was going smoothly until the Admiral burnt the bedsheets whilst ironing the Captain’s shirt. This resulted in a volcano moment and all plans being put on hold until the drama resolved. Luckily it was only a matter of 10 minutes as tensions diluted to acceptable levels. We left the apartment and headed to the infamous pub crawl meeting point. The captain was already sweating as the mercury was hovering around 28 degrees with 90% humidity at 8pm at night. We walked to the Pub and signed up to the crawl, there was over 100 people in line to join up, after we signed up we headed to the bar, here the line was too long to continue, the heat was driving the Captain loco. Breaking our tradition of NYE with a pub-crawl we decided to leave, we handed back our vouchers and got our refund. Calls from Motherland coming in – the clock had hit 12 am in Aus and 2017 had begun! Coincidentally at that point Comrade Kris pulled through and flicked across a message – He said he was at a house party and it was fine for both the Admiral and Captain to come! Feeling rude coming without any gifts of the sea, we visited a local bottle shop and picked up the only vodka they had, the pirates were ready. En route to the apartment the Admiral and Captain were shocked at the location they were in, the beautiful Petronas towers were in plain sight from the compound. We arrived at the apartment, firstly to be interrogated by the security detail and then to be escorted by the host who had come down to get us upstairs. We made it upstairs and upon entrance both the Captain and Admiral were taken aback by the size and the interior of the apartment – it was simply stunning. We strolled around to see the magnificence of the artwork and the thought gone into furnishing the place. We then walked over to the balcony and were flabbergasted at the view. Simply stunning. We could see the Petronas clear as day. The host came around and said “best seats in the house” and they were. We introduced ourselves to all the partygoers. The host introduced us to his partner, whose father owned the apartment, here we found out she was the daughter of the owner of a very prominent university in Malaysia and she worked with Comrade Kris’ friend. It explained a lot about where we had landed and the sheer lavishness of the party we were at. She joined us in the lounge room 45 minutes later looking absolutely smashing. A tequila shot and soon we were sipping Vodka with Gold flakes in laced cinnamon cups. We slowly settled in, the booze was getting rid of any inhibitions. We got to know more and more people, the host himself was an event manager he did events such as “it’s the ship” boat party and other events, soon other people joined including a friend of a middle eastern royal family. The night got more interesting, Kris pulled out his potent punch and conversation changed to a game of Kings cup, one of the partygoers fell out of his chair for the third time. Intoxication had begun to peak as the call was made to come outside to the balcony for the fireworks. Kris, the host Avi and the Captain having one last shot of 2016 as they stumbled to the balcony What happened next was some of the best set of fireworks the Captain has ever seen, he has ventured to Times square in New York for NYE, seen the Sydney fireworks, but the KL display was just out of this world. #nowords. Overwhelming feelings came over the Captain as he held the Admiral close to him as 2017 peaked over the horizon. At that point everything was perfect. There were salutations all round as we went inside and continued the celebrations. Not knowing that it was already approaching 3 am, we all ushered out bidding the fantastic hosts goodbye and exchanging Facebook details. Getting home is a blur to both the Admiral and Captain, although they do remember sitting on the burnt bedsheets and eating pistachios and debriefing on the night’s activities. 2017 was in and once again it topped the last year’s celebrations .

New Year’s Day began with a shock, we both looked at the time and it was 3:30 PM – the Captain and Admiral quickly leaving the apartment and grabbing some cheeky Nando’s at the Time Square Complex. Poor service resulted in a complaint lodged. We followed this up with a quick visit to the oldest temple in KL, the Sri Mahamariamman temple, to repent our sins from the previous night. Hungover as hell we started our shopping adventures, first up was petaling street again, followed by Central market (again), followed by Times Square. 5 hours later, hands full of bags and hungover we had to call it quits as shops put up their shutters. Since the Captain had kept his promise to take the Admiral Shopping it was time to cash in on his reward. Whiskey. We headed to Jalan Alor – the Famous eating street that’s open till 1am for dinner. Here we walked about and decided that before dinner we needed some drinks in our systems. Heading to the street where we heard the most music pumping we ended up on Chunkit Bukit Bantang – a Street full of bars. Walking up and down being approached about shisha, free drinks for ladies and 2-4-1 cocktails we got to a very up market Whiskey Bar. The Captain was in heaven, ordering a tasting platter of 8 whiskeys, he acted like a connoisseur when really he had no idea what was going on! Tasting, smelling and almost chundering on some expensive whisky. Finishing up and pretty drunk we headed for the next bar, here the Admiral got 2 for 1 cocktails and the captain had a beer. Smashed we walked looking for food. We found heaven when we found Al-Halabi, an Afghan restaurant where we had Shisha and the BEST BEST Baba-Gonush ever. I cannot recommend this place enough in fact here is the url (https://www.zomato.com/kuala-lumpur/al-halabi-gourmet-bukit-bintang/info) Full and pretty intoxicated we looked at our watches to reveal that it was 3 am – we rushed home. Our flight to Legoland was tomorrow at 8am. We had made a huge mistake.

Flight at 8am we woke up at 5:30am – still drunk and feeling like death we ate the fruit we bought in our drunk adventures the previous night, got ready and headed for the airport. Today the Captain and Admiral were off to Johor Bharu – a city 400KM away from KL. Boarding our flight, we instantly passed out. After a nap and an uber ride we arrived at Lego Land. The captain was so excited he forgot his hangover and started jumping around. Our stars had aligned as the park was… empty. No Waits for any rides. The next few hours were epic, as every ride was ridden. Even as the Captain’s thongs broke, it did not hinder him rushing to every ride.  The 0 lines continued as we went to the water park sitting on every water ride that they had, without any wait. Exhausted and satisfied, we decided to finally eat something, just as we sat in an eatery that was on the opposite end to the exit some Torrential rain started to pour down. We ate our pasta and pizza hoping the rain would stop, that unfortunately did not happen. We made a mad dash for the entrance, the Admiral was pleading to get a poncho, however with the inflated prices, the Captain was not going to fork out $10 for a piece of plastic. Drenched and almost drowned we completed our overpriced Lego shopping and departed Legoland. First we went to a place we had been hearing a lot about, the JB Premium factory outlet, this proved to be a fail as everything was branded and overpriced compared to home. We then took an uber to a local mall where we were more successful in buying random gifts. Finishing up and heading out to the rain that had not stopped, we called an uber and it cancelled, once again and again after 3 ubers we hit the road looking for a taxi, with no success and the stress of missing our flight kicking in, we walked down the road and in the rain, finally an uber picked us up. Soon for some reason we were exchanging details with our driver and he was to visit me in Melbourne. Boarding our flight back to KL, we were exhausted and planning how to maximise our last few hours before heading home, we decided upon landing with all our gear we will hit up Petaling street again and do a mad dash shopping. What proceeded was an hour of ‘SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY’. Hands full of bags and the clock hitting 12am we dumped our shopping, half packed our bags and headed to Jalan Alor for some late-night foodies before flying back to Aus.  Once again the temptation of our previous night’s dinner at Halibi got the better of us and once again we found ourselves munching down on what I deem the world’s best Baba Gonush. Looking at the time – it was 3 am again. We needed to pack and sleep, our flight back to Aus was 10am the next morning.

Up at 5:30, our last 48 hours consisted of only 5 hours sleep, we bid our epic apartment goodbye and rushed to the airport where we met Comrade Kris, he was on the same flight back home. We enjoyed some coffee, followed by breakfast and Dutyfree shopping. The Captain at this point was stressing that the flight will be missed, However Comrade Kris was calm and collected as we strolled towards the gate. Last to board the flight we made it. It was not long until the admiral passed out, only to wake up an hour before descent. Our Last adventure for 2016 and first few hours in 2017 had come to an end, we departed KL with a head full of memories, a book full of stories, body full of bruises and a backlog of unaccomplished sleep. It was time for the Captain and Admiral to dock and gear up for the next Adventure that will be 2017. #captainout

[whiterabbitpeak]

Langkawi.

A postcard perfect island paradise

Captains Log Day 7 - 30/12/16 6:32pm. AirAsia Flight AK6321.

Escaping Pagoda life after several delays, gate changes and frantic bowel movements we were able to keep the innards of the captain’s stomach confined. We arrived at the island of Langkawi late and exhausted. Wikipedia break – Langkawi is officially known as Jewel of Kedah, is an archipelago of 104 islands in the Andaman Sea, some 30km off the mainland coast of northwestern Malaysia.

After some initial hotel drama and a few phone calls to the Expedia pirates we were able to check in to our hotel. The clock had already stuck 10 and our options for food and intoxication were limited. In the spirt of adventure and despite the exhaustion, the Admiral and Captain went on a scout mission to explore the newfound land. The Captains 48-hour food poisoned fast was concluded with a mushroom soup and small personal pan pizza at Pizza hut. The first observation of the island was that of the reappearance of indoor kitchens and the concept of refrigeration of perishable goods. Feeling the energy slowly re-enter his body, his stomach was getting reacquainted with it role in breaking down food matter.

The first day on the island started once again with skipping breakfast, we were soon planning our adventures for the next few days. This Island had a LOT to do and explore. So without wasting any time on food, or any other necessities we were off and first up was the mighty Langkawi Cable car complex. The cable car takes you to a view point that is 708m above sea-level and is about 5 °C cooler than the lowlands. The total length is 2.2 km - The gradient or the slope between the Base Station and the Middle Station is said to be the second steepest in the world at 42°, right after Israel's Rosh HaNikra cable car. Here the views were special. Just breath-taking. #nowords (you might get this hashtag a few times in this log), photos, selfies and everything touristy later, we headed down and explored the remainder of the complex. First up was a Sky Dome which was a half dome like ceiling cinema – here we were shown a random film of us on a rollercoaster on mars – the graphics resembled rollercoaster tycoon 2 (a game released in 2002). Keeping the kids entertained we got into it and started putting our arms in the air and yelling as if we were in a normal rollercoaster. I don’t think the Adults in the show understood. Next up was the Sky Rex. A 3D ride which might be a law suit waiting to happen if the Jurassic park franchise find out. A train that’s taken to a 360-degree cinema in which we watch 3d movie Dinosaur park malfunction with T-Rex attacking our little car as it moved about on the spot. Once again the Adults did not appreciate the Admiral and Captain yelling about like the children. The last attraction to visit was the 3d art gallery. Known as Art in Paradise, this is the largest 3D art museum in Malaysia and the second largest in the world. Despite the Captain’s constant cringing at the tourist poses amongst the artwork, the Admiral managed to get in the mood and take a few engulfing art photographs. Finishing up a day’s worth of activities we left the complex only to see a road sign pointing to the Seven Wells waterfalls. Despite the heat and the 600 steps we had to endure the Admiral and Captain were hiking up to the waterfalls, here the Admiral took a quick dip as the Captain lulled around exhausted in the shade. Just when you thought that the day was packed enough, we were on-board a taxi to Cenang Beach, the tourist hub of Langkawi. This place was a girl’s best friend, shopping left right and centre, the next few hours was dedicated to grabbing gifts and pushing the haggling to the limit. Although there was an instance when the Admiral requested the shop keeper to lower the price to MYR10 when the item was only MYR5 #nowords. The day finished up with some Indian food at a restaurant which had rats, getting overcharged and a 50% surcharge on the cab ride home due to the late night fees.

Day 2 of Island life started early, this time we snuck in a running breakfast as our pickup arrived to take us away to the MegaSports jet ski tour. The jet ski tour consisted of 12 participants and 2 instructors. The tour involved you to pilot your own jet ski for 5 hours, as you hit the open ocean to visit 8 islands around Langkawi. This has to be one of my favourite experiences of my life, I cannot explain how fun it was #nowords. Open Ocean. Personal Jet ski. Top speed: 70 KM per hour. Recommended speed: 60kmph. Choppy ocean waters. Summer Sun. Most beautiful water. Picturesque surroundings. The Captain and Admiral were in heaven. Born to pirate, the next 5 hours involved almost capsizing 6 times, multiple instances of the jet ski feeling like it’s going to break, large portions of airtime and constant yelling at the top of our lungs. At some point the Captain, despite warnings from the tour operators discovered how to change the jet ski into sports mode, what ensued was a lot more airtime and a significant more amount of yelling from the Admiral. We were able to swim in a freshwater lake, swim in the ocean, see a random monkey fight break out and take some open water selfies. This is a MUST do for any visitor to Langkawi. Despite the instructor warning us to keep re-applying sunscreen the Admiral disembarked the jet ski looking like a lobster. Her legs looking like the Harvey Dent of Langkawi - half burnt to a crisp and the other half, white like a line of the Colombia’s finest. Up next was SkyTrex – a Jungle obstacle course. Unfortunately for the Admiral the words beginner or amateur does not exist in the Captain’s vocabulary, Intermediate course was selected (l33t >  Noob). Challenging, physically exhausting, arms weak, palms are sweaty and if we continued even for 5 minutes more there would be vomit on his sweater already – mom’s spaghetti. The next 90 minutes were spent, climbing on ladders to the top of trees, crawling through nets, balancing over Highwire and Ziplining across treetops. All done 22 meters above ground, with safety clips that needed to be attached and detached to metal wires as you proceeded. This was tough. At times the Captain’s arms gave up and he just wanted to fall. Sweat reached points of his body he did not know it could venture. Yet both Admiral and Captain continued – completing the course in above average time. Completing the course felt like body pump, CrossFit and boot camp session combined and completed in 33 degrees blaring sun. Drenched, limp but not defeated the Captain and Admiral headed back to the hotel. The sheer adrenaline still pumping through us, we decided to walk up to the famous Langkawi eagle. Departing the hotel with a 25-minute walk timeframe in mind, the walk took an exhausting 70 minutes. Unimpressed by the giant statue of the eagle, we convinced the staff at Papa Rich to feed us and we headed back for a much-needed rest.

Breakfast was a miss again as we slept to give the body some time to heal. The Admiral had entered Lobster life, her legs resembling the local rambutans, the Captain’s shoulders had also been cooked but, unlike the admiral the pain was non-existent. Without wasting any time, we left to visit the secluded and beautiful beach of Tanjung Rhu. The sun in full form was bleaching the beach with its heat, we decided to find some shade and sit. Here the captain decided to change into his bathers without taking off his shorts, the challenge was great and the result was a commando style Captain.  it was not long before the the heat became uncomfortable, we went to the local ghetto food store (making sure they had electricity and a fridge), here both the Admiral and Captain managed to stomach some of the food presented. Post our semi eaten meals, the Captain heard the calling of water vessels – following his instinct both the Admiral and Captain ended up at the jetty and were able to convince a local sailor to show them around the famous Langkawi mangroves. We boarded the speedboat and were off, the feeling of the air hitting your face as you criuse the most beautiful landscape is incredible and not able to be captured by camera #nowords. We sailed around, being taken to see the sea eagles and the Langkawi eagles feasting on chicken skin, then off to see some monkeys as they boarded, and possibly overran another tourist vessel. Next up was the Crocodile cave - nope I was not able to feed the Admiral to crocodiles, as there were none or ever were any. Followed by a bat cave, no not ‘THE’ bat cave (disappointment on the Captain’s face was evident) where we saw some hanging rocks (stalactites) and bats!. There were bats just doing the bat thing (no not fighting crime). As we left the caves, the Captain heard something move in the water under him only to see a GIANT (3 meters long at least) lizard as it ran into the cave. Thinking this could be Marvel and DC crossover, he left it and the tour continued. Last up on the tour was the Fish farm. Here some crazy fish farm guy took us around as he picked up and held crabs, sharks, giant squids and the infamous pufferfish. Personally, the Captain thought the guy was going to die. The Admiral on the other hand, feeling adventurous, held the crab and proceeded to pat a Sting Ray (we may have a new Steve Irwin on our hands).  The slimy and sandpaper texture of the Stingray failed to impress the Admiral and the Captain grossed out, refused to touch her ever in his life. The tour done and dusted the crew headed back to base, a quick dip in a cold pool, some room service club sandwich later they were on their way to Cenang beach to indulge in the party life. Going first to the local night markets, which were a sea of colour for all senses. The smells indescribable, it was looking like pagoda life was sneaking back in. We then headed back to Cenang, here disaster lifted its ugly head – when the captain went to withdraw money, the ATM processed the withdrawal but didn’t give any cash out. A stressful time ensued contacting banks and raising disputes. Stay tuned to see how this pans out. Breaking away from the mood spoiling experience we ventured to the beach where we were jet skiing a few days ago, we found a very buzzing night life, with beach bars and shisha cafes littered across the landscape. The Admiral pointed out a bar which had beanbags – fascinated we took a seat and asked for the menu, 5 minutes later, the admiral was sipping on a mojito and holding the shisha pipe, whilst the captain had in his had a GIANT bucket of Vodka and lemonade. I have to take time out to explain how big this bucket was – it was DOUBLE the size of the ones in Thailand with 450 ml of Vodka. The next 4 hours consisted of shisha and bucket sipping. Finally getting up heavily intoxicated and stumbling out onto the Cenang strip, most places shutting for the night we decided to pay homage to our roots and do a drunk maccas run. Tip: when in Aisa do not order the Prosperity burger at McDonalds unless you are looking for Pepper in the middle of 2 burger buns. The night was over for both of us when we boarded the cab and struggled into our room collapsing on our beds and passing out.

Hung over from the Captains bucket idea and dedicated to not missing breakfast on our last day, we entered the dining halls of our hotel 15 minutes before the breakfast was over. Still tasting last night’s Mcdonalds burgers, we sipped on our coffees and hoped the chatter in the room would just cease. With 12 hours remaining before our flight we packed up and left our bags and ventured to visit the unimpressive eagle once again, hanging in the mall to avoid the sun. The Admiral found a park and we lay in the gazebo surrounded by geckos (5) that were planning a civil uprising (tensions were high when we left). Here we rested before grabbing some kababs for lunch and moving to Starbucks for some WiFi and dirty chai latte like the Captain has never had before (a chai teabag dipped in milk and 2 shots of coffee). With nothing exceptional to report from the last few hours of the Langkawi adventure we departed for the airport, knowing that the closing hours of 2016 were inching closer.  

[whiterabbitpeak]

Yangon.

A Ghetto city with a pagoda shaped heart of Gold.

Captains Log Day 3 - 26/12/16 8:26 am. AirAsia Flight AK505.

The final chapter of 2016 opened and amongst its last few pages there was a story of adventure similar to one undertaken 12 months ago with the same faces present. The Captain and his faithful companion, Admiral Akbar, had returned to set off for yet another mission to delight, intrigue and at times project the sheer stupidity of the human kind.

The sun rose, the Captain and sidekick had commenced vessel boarding procedures when they saw a friendly face. The face of which was Comrade Kris. The Comrade was off on his own quest, also embarking on the same first leg of the journey to KL, we would be together on the flight. Tradition soon led the three of us to the closest bar where 6:00 am was an acceptable time for a sangria and a few beers paired with a serving of fruit toast. A cocktail of beer, sangria, lack of sleep and fruit toast intoxicating our minds, we boarded out flight for the first leg of our journey to the mysterious land of Myanmar. Lucky for us our illuminati flight did not disappear and we landed in KL without any serious inflictions and satisfied with our on flight meal of grandma’s chicken pie. Coordinating plans for NYE and bidding farewell to our short-lived companion, the time had come for our descent into the unknown – a land explored. Yangon. Myanmar (previously known as Burma)

Driving through Yangon to the hotel, the first thoughts that hit our minds were that of intrigue and wonder.  Aside from the food hygiene standards, what we were seeing was an un developed country like neither the captain nor admiral had ever seen in previous travels. The city resembled old Vietnam, as it appeared in school textbooks, an untouched rough and simple, city. The other thing that hit us was the smiles on the faces of everyone walking around. At this point I think the true beauty of the pearl started to shine through a very muddy shell.

Our hotel, The Grand United Downtown – was nothing like the pictures, in fact the Captain had to question the driver several times until being reassured that this was the place. With friendly bellboys escorting us to a much nicer looking lift inside we checked into our room, which fortunately for us was like the online pictures and not bad at all. Satisfactory on all means including a devilish air-conditioner, a must for any Myanmar traveler.

Bags dumped, and adventure calling 1300 Captain – we were off to explore the streets of Chinatown Yangon. First up 19th street, a local and internationally famous street in which everything goes. With our food Hygiene radar blipping off the charts the Admiral and Captain found a seat in the local eatery. The food stand had a few raw meats on display, the captain was able to point at a few to order and indicate the large signal for the local brew. The Admiral was also breaking personal protocol (mostly because she didn’t want to get blinded by the local spirits) and having a Myanmar Beer. Here we were shocked by the kindness and hospitality shown by the locals, ensuring that everyone, both locals and foreigners were looked after. The mystery meats arrived, munching and swigging we realised that we had finished a few liters of beer between us. The bill came to a mighty $3. Let me pause here for another interesting fact: 1 AUD = 1000 MYK

Rolling with a good buzz we headed to a bar around the corner, here the cocktails, shisha, and various song requests pursued. Long island Ice Teas going at $5 it was not long (or was it a while) before both the Admiral and Captain were seeing double. Soon the lights at the bar switched on indicating to its last remaining guest AKA us that it was time to leave. 7 cocktails, a beer, a shisha later the bill came to less than what a good meal would cost back home. We thanked the lovely DJ who had been blasting our obnoxious requests without breaking a sweat all night and left the bar.  As an act of rebellion, the Daptain broke away from the Admiral to go and grab a Paan (beetle nut leaf). The admiral didn’t have to worry much as it was all going to come up very shortly anyway. This was not the end of the shenanigans as the Admiral ended the night by walking into a door and bruising her forehead. It looked like Yangon was winning this round

The sun soon lit up the sky and indications that it was time to get up shone through the open blinds (purposely opened by the Admiral) – seems we had missed breakfast... Oops. Today was the start to Pagoda life – what is a Pagoda? Well Wikipedia defines it as “a Buddhist temple or sacred building, typically a many-tiered tower”. What is Pagoda life – Captain defines this as “when an idiot explores Myanmar”

We set off exploring – first off to the Famous Sule Pagoda, a temple made in a roundabout, famous as a meeting spot for locals. For something that sounds so simple, this was a fascinating and blindingly beautiful structure. Made of gold and housed in the middle of a busy intersection, the Sule Pagoda was a delight to walk around in, even with the scorching heat that was BBQing the soles of our feet. We said a little prayer and left. Next we visited the central park of Yangon and observed the ‘interesting’ phallic shapes of the hedges that were manicured around the place. Next on the list was a synagogue in the city, we reached it and although it appeared to be shut, both the Admiral and Captain made a sneaky move and broke in to explore inside. Leaving the synagogue exposed us to the burning midday sun, we quickly hiked to the Trinity Church and cooled down in its halls. A quick way to cool down was to be indoors, with our walking shoes we headed to the Yangon national museum. The national museum was fantastic, showing the history of the city and the history of Buddhism, with ancient relics including molars which thoroughly excited the Admiral. We hired a tour guide, we both were afraid that the guide may die of old age during the tour. He fortunately did not. He did however repeat himself a fair bit.  Including repeatedly asking the question “Have you been to Bagan?” a record six times during our tour. We soon found this was a question every local had to ask, it was as common as hello, it seemed that Myanmar’s pride resided in Bagan. But this was a place unfortunately the Captain could not venture to as it resided 12 hours away.

Exhausted and still hungover we decided to grab something to eat, both the Admiral and captain were not feeling too well, we walked around and unfortunately all the food places were the same and contained no indoor kitchens. All meat and vegetable products alike were kept out in the sun and honestly the smells, the Captain cannot get over or describe. Not being able to stomach anything, lunch was to be 2 packets of chips and some popcorn, paired with a bottle of coke. This was devoured sitting in a park.

It was time for the Admiral and Captain to visit one of the most famous sites in Yangon, a site that Buddhists all around the world take pilgrimage for. The gigantic and spectacular Shwedegon Pagoda. This structure can be seen from all around the city, a towering relic with a height of 112 meters. The Pagoda is believed to contain relics of the four previous Buddhas of the present kalpa. These relics include the staff of Kakusandha, the water filter of Koṇāgamana, a piece of the robe of Kassapa, and eight strands of hair from the head of Gautama. Approaching the structure, we started to gasp at its scale. Huge. Words cannot describe the beauty. Golden with intricate details, the next 3 hours were spent admiring the structure. Finding a spot we watched as the sun played tricks and changed the appearance of the pagoda, the gold started shining differently. It was magnificent. It was one of the most peaceful places on earth. Surrounded by people meditating and praying, our souls felt at ease. We meditated and then had conversation with another old man, who had decided to spend his 73rd birthday at the Pagoda. He explained to us the significance and the feeling he got when he visited the place of prayer.

Souls refreshed and stomachs growling we set off once again to look for a place to eat. Our criteria had changed and all we were looking for was a restaurant that had refrigeration. We walked for miles before we came across a very fancy hotel with USD prices. We both bit the bullet and went in to eat. The hunger got the better of us and we enjoyed some Pasta, Pizza and Burgers cooked indoors. We then headed back and once again in an act of rebellion the Captain went and had some more Paan.

Christmas Day in Burma started with a big breakfast in the Hotel – this had to be cooked inside since the restaurant was on the roof. We ate grandly and headed out on adventure, first to the Aung Markets, then to the sitting and reclining Buddha, we decided despite the distance and the cheap costs we walked to all places in order to explore. We marveled at the sitting Buddha and upon descending the temple were approached by an old man – The Old men are becoming a theme in the story. This 74-year-old man with thick glasses resembled the stereotype of a grandfather. He first approached the Captain and asked him where he was from etc. and then signaled to him to follow him, he led us through a place with 66 monasteries’ and through his broken English explained Monk life. Often repeating himself and asking if we had been to Bagan, he showed us the Monks quarters, where they meditate etc. he insisted we take photos, the captain however felt uncomfortable photographing unsuspecting monks. But this man insisted it was fine.  We finally visited the reclining Buddha with our escort, as he randomly asked for his tourist fees. We were both taken a back but knew something fishy was going on earlier, we paid him his hefty fee of 5 AUD and left.

It was on the way back that the Captain started to feel ill. He insisted that rather than walking a cab was in order, the Admiral was more than happy to comply. Upon reaching the hotel the Captain threw up. This was the first of what continued all-night. Ranging from 5 to 20 minutes the captain was in the toilet, at first regurgitating any matter that existed in his stomach, to just dry reaching. The vomiting continued till 11pm nonstop for 4 hours. This was an experience like no other for  the Captain, it felt like his insides were trying to escape the country and they had their passports and visas all organized and all they had to do was run to the gate. The Admiral, stressing, was on the phone to various people trying to figure out how to cure this menace. In the end the Captain was sedated and giving strong anti-bacterial medicines. All night the Captain woke up every 20-30 minutes and sipped on water. This was the most excruciating 12 hours of the Captain’s life. As morning came, run down but keeping water down it was time to depart the city. Limping out of bed with energy levels hitting the negative spectrum, we departed the hotel and headed to the airport, having one last glance of the magnificent pagoda as the morning sun shone on its pretty spire, thus marking the end of Pagoda life

[whiterabbitpeak]

Singapore.

The green city with lost soul.

Captains Log Day 3 - 12/09/16 1:24 AM. Jetstar

Wednesday night, a vibration on the captain’s telecommunication device – a carrier pigeon message from the co-captain. It appears that his partner in crime has found himself across the Java sea at the entrepreneurial hub - Singapore. A skype call, laughs, a few drinks later, it was decided that the captain was to be off for another adventure. 

Leaving on Friday early morning, the plan was to spend the weekend in the city and fly back on Monday, heading straight back to our allocated job ranks. This was going to be an eventful quest.

It was not long before “eventful” kicked in, from being upgraded to premium economy, having 3 seats to lay on followed by torrential weather involving an emergency landing, a missed connecting flight and 2 people projectile vomiting on the plane. 

Landing late the captain had to make up time, a litre bottle of Grey Goose in hand, the captain quickly checked into the hotel and was soon united with the co-captain. A dance of rejoicement commenced on a tower over looking the iconic and stunning Marina Bay Sands, a beer paddle and a series of cocktails were sacrificed. It was not long before our American/ Australian Paratrooper joined the combatants, kicking off her campaign with a series of tequila shots.

Departing the tower of terror, the combatant started a battle with the taxi driver who managed to take them on a tour of the island, finally disembarking at our hotel. It was time to get ready and kick of the night time festivities. The process of getting ready involved a Grey colour goose, a phantom drone and elephant masks.

The Co-Captain was peaking, he was peaking so hard that he didn’t realise the multiple time he had lost gunfights with the ground and was bleeding from his shirt. The night continued as we walked towards the club “Space” – the co-captain tried to enter without realising he was in the wrong line, with great warning from the bouncer regarding the state of the co-captain we were allowed in to the club. 

Hoping that the vodka redbull would give us wings the drinks continued, no wings. We left the club not long after, stumbling out. In a blur of memories the captain and co-captain had a slight argument, in which the captain got punched in the face by the co-captain. At this point the Captain Stormed off – walking away with the paratrooper, only to turn around to see that the co-captain was now missing. Walking along the street we called out his name – only to hear silence in return. Finally we turned the corner to find the co-captain in a temple, on his knees crying and praying to whichever godly figure was in front of him. With great effort the captain commenced a recon mission to extract him from the temple, he was cheered on by the temple priests who were confused and disoriented as to why such a manic person had made an appearance in the house of god. Concurrently the Paratrooper had called an uber to allow us swiftly leave the scene. The insistence continued for 20 minutes until finally the co-captain had left the compounds only to face plant to a bunch of ceramic pot plants next to the uber. Fall number 4. 

With the help of the driver we got the co-captain into the car and sped away to McDonalds, to get some sustenance. Here there was a metamorphosis as the co-captain transformed into a child and refused to eat. The captain tried many time to force feed him, only to have nuggets spat out on his face. He then picked up the Burger, deconstructed it and then projectile vomited in it. The following scene was a blur of trying to clean vomit and distract other customers of the on goings. We extracted the captain and carried him home. The night was rough. That room will never be the same again. 

The Next day started with a full recap of the previous night’s escapades over Venezuelan corn filled food – Carb loaded the battalion were ready for our next mission, to get another notch off our music pilgrimage. Ultra-Music Festival Singapore. 

Tomorrowland as our benchmark, we were soon disappointed by the organisation of the festival. The hour long lines, inflated prices and the Mud… Oh the MUD! The acts were amazing, having seen W&W, Alesso, Afrojack, DJ Snake and the god amongst EDM Deadmau5. The night was awesome, the backdrop and music lifted our moods and intoxicated by the sound we danced. Danced Hard.  Stepcounters hitting 41,000 and deadmau5 finishing his set. UMF Singapore was over and our legs were now the consistency of Jelly. We walked to the dodgiest looking Chinese place still open at 1 am and devoured some very tasty Asian food and crawled back to our rooms for a night of washing muddy shoes. 

The last day in Singapore was spent in recovery mode, our legs finally understanding the concept of gravity and learning to fight it as they defined movement. After a swim in the hotel pool, we fare welled the Paratrooper as she continued forward in her journey onwards. The captain went and had a quick lunch with a friend, followed by some dumplings with the co-captain. After some family time we headed to the airport. A fight with the duty free officers and we set to depart the country saying goodbye to a fun, clean city and concluding our short but epic adventure, prepping ourselves to walk into work as we began the week. Surviving another voyage, the captain signs off

[whiterabbitpeak]

Sri Lanka.

The city of glorious food, sun bleached beaches and Gypsy Pirates

Captains Log Day 14 - 6/08/16 5:24 AM. Singapore Airways.

Blessed, feeling Angelic the captain and the squad were soon amongst the clouds, farewelling their Middle Eastern pilgrimage, only to land in Athens a few hours later. Repeat the process after 4 hours and we land in Doha, one more time for just for fun, BOOM we are in Lanka.

A casual 24 hours and 3 continents later we are waiting for our bags which amongst a sea of Sri Lankans, and it is ttaking a lot longer than expected. Finally gathering our bags, we head outside and plan how the hell we are going to get to our secluded bunker for the stay in the city of Hikkaduwa. First objective is to get to Colombo and then figure out bearings to get to Hikkaduwa. After being approached by a few dodgy transport individuals, we select the most notorious one and follow them to a small shuttlebus. The bus has a capacity for 20, but I count at least 25 people alongside the luggage of 25 people. This resembles Tetris.  Choosing our slight comfort over convenience we democratically choose to skip this bus and wait for the next one.

Thirty minutes go by we board the second bus squeezing in our seats as we head towards Colombo bus stand. On our journey up we enjoy the views and compare our vision of the country, we discuss how it resembles, Fiji, India, Thailand etc. Finally the last stop arrives, we are dropped off amidst a sea of busses.  We unload our luggage and start looking for our ride to Hikkaduwa, a democratic vote was cast and we all agreed that before we boarded the bus we needed to find the most hard-core traditional street eats place to have some dinner.

Managing to find a place where no one spoke English, with the menus in another language and the food looking like it had been sitting in the bain-marie for an extended period of time, we asked for 3 plates of food. The plates came covered in plastic glad wrap, we accepted these and walked along the bain-marie selecting our dishes based on color, texture and consistency (we had no idea what was in them) stuffing our faces and being full to the point of throwing up (not sure if it was the quantity causing the sickness in our bellies or the over eating at this point) we paid our extravagant bill of $4 AUD (total for 3 meals) and then said farewell (although I don’t think they understood what we said)

With our superior sign language skills, we figured out which was the bus to lead us to our resort location and unsuspecting we boarded. I want to take a minute right now to define this crazy transportation vehicle. The interior was brightly lit by green LEDs, there was a large 32 inch TV up the front showcasing some sort of voodoo singing competition, the side of the bus had large speakers lined up which were blasting audio that matched the gypsy visuals – we could only come up with one term for the vehicle - ‘The Gypsy Rocket Bus’

The Gypsy rocket bus ride was an experience. Stacked in and pushed together like eggs in an egg crate we started moving, people started jumping on and off miraculously, without stopping, as the bus moved through the city . We were on our way. The lack of air-conditioning and space had all three of us sticking together like pieces of bread in a toasted cheese sandwich.

Amongst the body heat we found ourselves passing out, only to be awoken as our bodies swayed due to some serious turning. The bus felt like it was about to Tip.  We instantly noticed the speed that that the Gypsy rocket bus was going at, we were rocketing towards our destination. Rebel leader established contact with a local who pointed out to them that we were in some sort of bus race with another vehicle on the road. Flying forward our estimates were that the gypsy bus was going at 120 – 140 km per hour as it curved along besides the beaches. We were now wide awake and at times found ourselves praying for our lives. A few hours of gut wrenching, hot speed commuting later, a gentleman walks over to advise us that, not only had we won the Bus race, but we had arrived at our destination. Our sign language fails as we try to request a drop off to our hotel. 2am out in the middle of nowhere, Google maps comes to the rescue and advises us that we are 20 minutes away from our hotel.

As we start our walk the co-captain is unable to make his super powers of canine attraction, we are soon being followed by 4 dogs. Approaching our accommodation some sort of dog turf war breaks out, challenging or new friends.  We avoid conflict as we enter our hotel. The first night ends with a few antics as the dog mask makes an appearance to the surprise room service.  

Major objective of our stay in Lanka is to get suits made for the co-captains wedding, and with that objective in mind we hire a taxi and set off back to Colombo city, leaving our resort life behind. After failing with our first tailor, we have a lot more luck with our second (Hercules tailors) ordering our suits with a caveat of 1 day turnaround time. The remainder of the night is spent visiting the infamous shopping spots including Petteh market. Hungry we spend time looking and deciphering a local eatery suggestion pilaows (we kept looking for pill house). With great difficulty we locate the place and munch down on some very tasty kutthu roti and spicy chicken. Feeling full and accomplished we leave back to Hikkaduwa.

Arrival back to our temporary home we are welcomed with some long necked large beers.  The captain and rebel leader feel mega restless as the co-captain is busy with some work, the fact that the bar is closed is the determined reason. Tipping the bell boy with cigarettes results in him telling us of a beach bar where we could still get hydrated. Leaving the co-captain to his work. We embark on a adventure to the lost bar. Walking across a crab infested beach we arrive at a very cool beach bar. Here we have our first drinks and chat to some other aussie pirates. After a while it is our cue to go and retrieve the co-captain, rushing home across the crab sea we grab him and bring him to the bar for good times. These however are short lived as the bar closes up not long after we place.  At the hotel they decide to lock the captain in the toilet as revengr for drenching the co-captain. Shenanigans die down we prepare our bags for our last Lankan day.

POOL TIME! Our last day and our first opportunity to relax! The day is spent lazing in and by the pool, getting a Tan (burnt) and swimming. We make the most of it and have a massive feast at the hotel (crab cuttlefish and the next of Sri Lankan food is involved). It feels like the time has flown, we get our bags ready and depart our paradise.

Luggage loaded, our first stop is the Turtle sanctuary, here we meet some pretty cool Dudes and play with these beautiful creatures.  Unable to find nemo We depart and get to the tailors and realize our suits need some modifications. Sized up we head to do some last minute shopping and gift buying. Dropping by the Dutch hospital district for a sneaky cocktail as we say cheers to Sri Lanka and reminisce about our trip.

It is time go home. Our pilgrimage complete. Cameras full of photos, Heart full of memories and good times. Thus ends another trip of a lifetime. Another Victory, yet the war is not over.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Jerusalem.

The Holiest place in the world. A city with enough power to destroy the world as we know it.

Captains Log Day 9 - 2/08/16 1:24 AM. Qatar Airways.

It was 1am when we finally landed back in Tel-Aviv from Petra; but, it was also the wrong airport in which we had arrived. Due to the confusion and flight changes the authorities had placed us on a flight to the international airport and not the domestic airport at which our rental car housing all our luggage was parked.

In our 43 hour sleepless bender we stumbled around to find a taxi that would transport us to our car for a reasonable amount of shekles. Not finding any in the airport we ventured out, walking into the terminal roads. Here we finally got a cab.  

Once we made it to the correct airport and to our car, the huge task lay ahead to drive down to Jerusalem, a 1 hour drive from Tel- Aviv. Red eyed and sharing the high degrees of exhaustion co-captain Avi took the reins and piloted us to the holy city. Drained beyond comprehension we arrived at our AirBnB which was located in the heart of the city.  Struggling at first when we discovered that some other random people had taken our room! The AirBnb apartment was on the first floor, when we arrived we could not find the keys as instructed, so we went to the second floor – here we found the key and started dumping our luggage. Within minutes we hear some men with thick Italian accents saying that’s their room. After initial confusion we discovered that level 2 was their room and 1 was ours. The confusion happened as they could not find the keys to upstairs so they took base in our room rather than reaching out to the host.

Location wise we could not have asked for a better spot however, being the center of the city there was not any parking spot to park our car. We had to call democracy again as the co-captain suggested we just dump the car at any spot and pay the fines later. Both rebel leader and captain agreed that this was not the best way to tackle the solution, and with some help from late night locals we were able to circumnavigate to a 24-hour parking hotel. Here we dumped the car and dead tired took a taxi back to the apartment – the little hand on the clock reached 4. The Scurvy that the captain had had, started to spread, this time targeting the co-captain. He started to feel very unwell. The exhaustion, lack of sleep and cold hot combination started to deteriorate his body. Finally, we welcomed the arms of sleep, as it took over.

With no alarm set we arose to the hustle and bustle of town folk downstairs, the streets calling out our name, we evaluated the health of the co-captain. Both rebel leader and captain could see the flailing co-captain, we both refused for him to leave today, and that they would go by bus to the dead sea. This however was not open for democracy, the co-captain awakening and freshening up to make the journey to another intriguing marvel of the world.

Medication was free flowing, we popped pills like tic-tac’s took a taxi to our car. Not long after we were en route to float in the Dead Sea. For those that don’t know what the dead seas is – It is a body of water that has a very, VERY high salt concentration, meaning that whatever goes into the sea… well… floats. Fun fact: The dead sea is the lowest point on the earth which is not submerged underwater, but is still below sea level – Shawty got LOW.  We road tripped through the hottest dessert in the world sitting in our air-conditioned vessel, reaching a public beach, allowing us to swim into the dead sea.

Embracing the 42 degree heat we walked along the beach and found a shaded spot for our stuff, we changed promptly into our swimming gear and walked into the rock filled ocean. First thoughts – ‘There are a lot of rocks, glad we wore those thongs and WOW The water was HOT!!’ It felt like it was 30 degrees, bordering uncomfortable we continued into the water.. all of a sudden I see the co-captain’s feet floating as he is laying back. We do the same and VOILA floating. The sensation of floating and weightlessness like this is indescribable, in short – you just float and can’t sink!

We were doing just that until we hear a shriek from the co-captain, the water had gone into his eyes and he was blinded, we had to swim over and guide him through the rocks to the beach showers so he could wash his eyes. This later happened to both the rebel leader and the captain, definitely not a pleasant experience. Ladies and Gents the Salt content here is VERY HIGH. If you have any cuts on your body – you are not going to have a good time.

Dehydrated, for the remainder of the evening we spent sitting at a beach bar drying up and soaking in the experience. A good day spent at the dead sea we headed back to Jerusalem, hoping the co-captain was on the road to recovery. Completing the dead sea we went to a Jerusulam marketplace that is transformed into a bar area at night – the vibe was indescribable, people came up to challenge the co-captain to beer sculling, however due to his health he politely declined. Once again the vibe was incredible, young, old everyone just on the strip eating, drinking and enjoying. After a nice dinner in which Rebel leader ate a local dish consisting of meat insides, including veal glands, we headed home.

On our last day in Jerusalem the squad completed the ultimate pilgrimage, visiting the holiest places in the Christian, Islamic and Jewish faiths.

Rising early, we packed our bags and started to head out, only to be greeted by the cleaner who refused us to leave our bags whilst he cleaned. Back and forth the conversation went until we spoke to the host who organised for us to leave the bags in the room until we left later in the day. With that sorted we went to join the Holy City walking tour arriving with 2 minutes to spare.

At the walking tour our eccentric guide advised us that this was going to take a lot longer than the advertised 4 hours on the website – it could take up to 6, and asked if anyone was on a tight time schedule - out of the 40 people, the squad were the only ones to raise their hands – we had a flight to catch at 7pm… in Tel-Aviv. We discussed logistics and agreed on where we would break off the tour and complete this exploration on our own.

The tour kicked off with a bang – the first location being the site of ‘the last supper’ astonished we arrived at the site to see an empty room, the tour guide explained the events that had taken place – this location had 2 stories, downstairs which the Jews believed was the burial place of King David, and upstairs which Christians believed was the site of the last supper, the conflict between the two religions continued for many hundreds of years, until one day they decided to go to court and decide who would be able to build a place of worship there. The judge was Muslim, upon hearing the arguments, he realised that they are talking about the Prophet Dawood. He quickly lay his judgement “This should be a mosque” so the room was converted into a mosque. After a long political battle including the pope, Jordan and the Israeli government left it as a blank room, where all can come pray and worship.

We then went downstairs, put on some Jewish Kippas to go and see King David’s tomb, the Kippa Suited Rebel Leader Amit, must be because of his home town Balaclava. At King David’s tomb we saw many Jewish people praying – King David was a great king, and one who brought the people together – they believe praying to him will bring unity to the people and restore the golden times.

The next location we visited has the capability to start world war 3.  This site is the holiest site for Judaism and Islam. There are constant protests and riots outside the holy place. It is protected by the UN and as advised even if the opening hours to the place need to change, the Israeli president needs to discuss with the king of Jordan, which is then heard by the US president and then discussed at the UN. This place was religiously and politically volatile and very important to all the parties involved.

The Dome of the Rock – Here the Jews believe that god created the world with the first piece being the Rock that resided here, they believe this was also the spot that God told Isaac to kill his son. In Islam they believe that Mohammad was at Mecca praying and saw the vision of a horse with wings, he was lead to the rock, where he ascended to heaven and discussed with God how many times a Muslim should pray a day. Initially starting at 50 they haggled this down to 5 times a day. This was the rock he rode up to heaven with the archangel Gabriel – the angel footprint can be seen as an imprint on the rock.

The Dome of the Rock was previously a Jewish temple, which got destroyed and is now a Mosque. This was the largest structure in the world at one point, allowing 10,000 people on the floors. It was also the headquarters of the Knights Templar in the middle ages. People are allowed to enter the compound however not the mosque. Jewish people are strip searched, and escorted by police officers, they are often abused, spat on and thrown shoes at by the Muslims inside. This is accepted practice. Prior to entry a decency police review your outfit and if too much skin is showing escort you to buy shawls and other things to cover up. An Example of this not working was when a Muslim person came up and started yelling at the women in our group “COVER UP –THIS IS A PLACE OF PRAYER NOT A NIGHTCLUB”. There are Israeli police officers inside, however they have no power or authority inside the Dome of the Rock.

Since the Jews are not very welcome inside, they stand on the western wall and pray from the outside, leaving notes for god to answer their prayers and mourning the destruction of the temple.

At this point we departed from our tour, time was running short – we had a flight to catch. The last place of our visit cannot go undescribed. The overwhelming feeling of the moment still giving me goosebumps. We visited the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. This is one of the holiest place a Christian can visit, it is the place Jesus was tried, beaten, crucified and resurrected. There is not much to say here, this was a religiously overwhelming experience as we touched the stone that Jesus was brought down on and visited the tomb where he was resurrected. Saying our final prayers we left the holy city and headed to pick up our car.

Time was running out, knowing our security experiences we rushed to the airport, first picking up the car and then the luggage. Co-captain avi was on fire – flying down the Israeli freeway like a Jewish person for the kosher section of a buffet. Time was cutting it fine, we knew interrogation was waiting us at the airport. Reaching the rental place using some unorthodox maneuvers, such as footpath driving, we returned the car.

Minor damage meant the insurance we had gotten was a great success and saved us a fair bit. As anticipated several checks and a lock broken open by security later we were the last people to check in to our first of 3 flights to Sri Lanka.

Jerusalem has been an experience like no other. The amount of faith held in one place cannot be comprehended, we leave this place with many requests to god and hearts filled with belief and hope.  

[whiterabbitpeak]

Petra.

An Ancient Kingdom laying in ruins, a wonder to all that come to it.

Captains Log Day 7 - 31/07/16 11:55 pm. Arkia.

The delirium is kicking in. The cause can be attributed to many different things, it could be due to the visually magnificent structure we just laid our eyes on, it could be due to our minds unable to comprehend the architectural magnificence of witnessing one of the 7 wonders of the world. In reality deep down we know it is due to the lack of sleep and being in 48 degree temperatures for the entirety of the day.

The captain is on the way to recovery, steroids coursing his veins helping fight the illness that ails him. 2 hours after laying our heads to rest the first of the three alarms that have been set to wake us for our adventure start to echo through the apartment. The clock flashes 4:00AM meaning it is time to freshen up and depart. Like Zombies on a mission for brains, we load our rental car with our suitcases and through our crusty eyes head to the domestic airport for our chartered flight to the edge of Israel – the city of Eiliat.

The security procedures begin once again, we are herded out of the line and taken to the side, “Why did you go to Indonesia? Where did you stay in Doha? How long were you there? etc. where rebel leader and the captain are let off lightly, co-captains Arab origins seem to hinder his agility through the country. We stand aside and wait, making a quick pit stop to pick up possibly the most Jewish thing ever – a Bagel Pretzel.

Interrogation complete we are on a small flight heading to the southern tip of Israel, city of Eiliat. Here we are joined by our tour guide, an elderly gentleman who greets us and introduces us to the other tour members. He briefs us on the administrative procedures of the border crossing into Jordan. We are taken to a heavily protected border, with snipers on towers and Israeli troops carrying heavy modified artillery. Scrutiny pursued as once again we are greeted with a round of 1000 questions. Passing yet another test we are lead to the border, here our tour guide bids us farewell and explains the process of what next.

The lack of sleep impairing our hearing ability we do our best to listen, and understand the consequences being the snipers that are standing on the watch towers. Just like that we are sent on our way – a 300 meter stretch to cross the border; a DMZ.

Jordan seemed like another world, we are greeted with smiles and let into the country as guests, minimal security checks and no questions (Thank god). A few visa stamps on our passport and we are sitting at a boarder café waiting for our Jordanian tour guide to take us on our journey to the ancient city of Petra. Whist waiting the squad decided to buy Arab turbans for the long journey ahead – when in Rome do as the Arabs do.

The tour guide is a middle aged gentlemen who has to be the king of dad jokes, with his guidance we board the bus and start the 2 hour journey across the dessert to Petra. Despite our minimal sleep, the excitement that was overcoming us did not let us nap. We watched as the bus drove on, admiring the landscape and the stray camels.

After a few pit stops for water and pee, our bus finally reaches the city of Petra. I don’t think any of the pirates in our squadron can contain the excitement that has been brewing inside. The excitement that started to brew when General Joske mentioned a visit to Petra was... “Possible”. We left the bus to be welcomed by a scorching hot blaze of heat. In the air conditioning we had forgot that the outside torture was 48 degrees celsius. All of us glad we had bought the appropriate headgear, we then disembarked.

The following 4 hours at Petra were filled with intrigue and wonder. Once again words cannot describe the beauty and magnificence of the ancient city. The single Treasury building (which really is a tomb) taking over 80 years to build, by more than 100 people. The city was a booming center of trade. The strategic location allowed people to come and trade with security and comfort. The success of the city lay due to the water system that they had developed allowing them to use the rainfall and keep reservoirs for the dry months. It is also believed that the source of the water is where Moses slammed his stick in the old testament. This is now a fountain and the water flowing through the city is believed to be sourced from that very same spot.

Over the years the city was taken over by different people that changed it as they ravaged the city, this included the Roman Empire, Constantine, and the Byzantine Empire. I don’t want to bore you with more history. The place was everything you can imagine – a city in the dessert carved into stone. It is overwhelming to talk about. The colors, the sheer size, and the intricate detail and thought gone into creating the city is just indescribable.

We started walking with our tour guide, only to find he was a total and utter idiot who did not know anything except how to impress Chinese tourists with the amount of Chinese he knew how to speak.

Stealthily like the ancient Bedouins before us we detached ourselves from his tour and joined and ABSOLUTE Boss tour guide! Who explained every element of what we were seeing, the tombs, ancient houses and the temples. Every description of the historical foundation of the city had us begging for more. Our newly acquainted tour guide was a legend, he was so into it that if he heard even a kid interrupting his speech he would yell at the parents to shut them up.

Upon completing the tour and drenched with sweat as if we had taken a bath in our cloths we completed the tour and were asked to return to the bus area. We trekked in the heat, an hour back to the bus. At that point all three of us had been cooked like a Christmas roast. Back in the bus we headed off to a quick lunch at a local Jordanian restaurant, this was to be our fist meal since Jaffa city the night before (bar the Bagel Pretzal). We ate to our hearts content, boarding the bus a few kilos heavier.

Half an hour into the 2 hour bus ride, the driver stopped. It seemed like the bus was over heating and had broken down. We sat in the bus, which soon started to resemble a sauna until help arrived, only to find that help couldn’t help. An SOS call was made for a replacement bus and after a little while and a lot of sweating we were on a replacement bus back to the border. We befriended a Mexican tax agent who went around the world collecting casino chips – this is a story for another day…

Arriving at the boarder the same process occurred, smiles in Jordan as we crossed and then a heavy Israeli interrogation hammer when we arrived on the other end. Completing the questions we met our old tour guide who was waiting for us. He greeted us and advised us we may miss our flight if we don’t rush. On the way he told us how in his younger years he swam across the red sea with the navy seals to see Petra, and how only some of them made it back alive, most of them being killed as they snuck across and back.

We entered the airport to find out that our flight had already commenced boarding, when we attempted to check in the security once again began with the long list of questions (all of which we had heard before) we were ready and wanted to make it to the flight. All of a sudden 3 security officers come and take our passports, they return and ask us to follow them. We are lead to a room and asked to wait inside, one by one each of us are called inside the room.

The first to be called is the captain. He is advised to sit and then take off his shoes, empty his pockets, remove all the money from his wallet and then strip to his underwear. He is then given makeshift cloth shoes and given a disclaimer to read. At this point the captain is wondering if he will be having 2 fingers up his bum, and how he was going to survive the trip walking like a duck. After reading the pamphlet he found out that it was a xray that they would conduct to see if he had any concealed explosives. The test was done, the captain asked to get dressed. As he was walking out he did a 2 finger salute implying a bum search, to the other lads, and he watched their faces drop and sadness overcome them. He giggled inside as he walked to the waiting area.

One by one the co – captain and the rebel leader returned, laughing hard as they honestly thought they were going to get probed. They re-united with themselves and their passports. When we reached the gate – we were advised that the flight had left and the next flight (the last flight of the night) was in 3 hours.

We sat and we waited – exhausted beyond description, burnt to a crisp and counting the hours of sleep – 2 hours sleep in the last 46 hours, until finally at 11 pm our gate opened – it was time to return to Tel Aviv and make our way to our final Israeli adventure – Jerusalem

[whiterabbitpeak]

Tel Aviv.

The New York of the Middle East.

Captains Log Day 7 - 31/07/16 6:09 am. Arkia.

Welcome to Israel. We question ourselves as we disembark the flight – IsReally Israel? Have we really crossed that many oceans to make it to the so called New York of the Middle East? The answer comes loud and clear from the 4 Israeli security officials that baptize us with questions. ‘Why are you here?, Where are you from?, What is your Grandfathers name? What do your parents do? Why did you leave your country to move to Australia?’ A paranoid mind starts to hesitate, it’s not the clarity we lack but rather the sleep.

11 am we land dressed in our Clubbing uniforms, smelling of a barrage of spirts with our eyes resembling the color of Heinz ketchup. We have made it to Tel Aviv. Clearing the first and second round of interrogation, we withdraw our first set of the local currency - Shekels, instantly in our minds start playing “Mary Mary – Praise You”.  We leave the airport, the sun bleaches our faces, scorching our skin, we are embraced by the taste of the desert heat a cool 38-degrees.

A mixture of elements contributing to our overall exhaustion as we take a taxi to our centrally located accommodation, only to find that the keys are at another office. Leaving Rebel leader to fend our luggage, the co-captain and captain venture in the 38-degree heat to retrieve the keys. Within one minute of walking both are drenched in sweat and browning like nuggets in the oven – only 15 minutes according to Google Maps left. Finally, we return triumphant and open the door to our abode.  

We have not eaten much, in fact I don’t think I can remember the last meal we had. We drop our bags and venture out to the Shuq (market) which is next to our apartments, as we walk we admire the produce, the crafts and entrepreneurship of the locals. Starving, like Bedouins lost in the desert, we come across a vibrant food house which glimmers in the sun. We sit and break bread as we devour plates full of salads, dips, breads and meat. Bellies exploding of goodness, we head back to the hotel.

We shower and get some well needed rest, with both co-captain and the captain descending to sleep within seconds. We awake feeling groggy and exhausted, however this is not the time – it is our first day in the country and we must fight our fatigue. We freshen up and not long after we are sitting on the beautiful Tel Aviv beach sipping on mojitos as the heat swell cools down. It is at this point that the Captain calls upon his old companion who has moved across Tel Aviv. General Joske. The flamboyant and lovely soul who migrated from Melbourne to the land of David’s star.

As we sip our cocktails on the beach General Joske calls us back and asks for the battalion to join her at a friend’s house party. Unexpected and feeling the fatigue, we decide it was time to call democracy again to decide if we continued on to the party or went home and rested. After a landslide victory of 3 – 0 we picked up a 6 pack and were on our way to a Random house Party in Tel-Aviv.

General Joske greets us with open arms, her friends warm, gracious and welcoming – it is not long after that we are sharing laughs and exchanging contact details. We continue to drink laugh and enjoy the time with our new found friends, we are honored and excited to be in a new country for just over 4 hours and be at a house party. Upon the chit chat of the night General Joske gave us some fantastic tips for our trip. A golden nugget being, a way to go and see one of the 7 wonders of the world – Petra. Intrigued and curious we started contemplating a trip. The seed had been planted. The good times continue until a few of our new found friends decide that it’s time we all go out to one of the best bars in Tel- Aviv. Bidding a sad farewell to the beautiful and wild General Joske, we join our new comrads.  

Standing at a secret entrance of Beit Romano, we enter the compound. It looks like a series of closed shops with the upstairs dedicated to a very busy and happening bar. Going upstairs we are greeted by friendly staff and some very beautiful looking people. We buy the first few rounds of drinks and take a seat, admiring the bar, the vibe the weather and not to mention the eye candy. The drinks are flowing, our comrads are beside us and conversation is becoming more and more loose as time goes on.

Suddenly the co-captain is feeling peckish, we order some white fish (not being a fan of seafood the captain is hesitant), when this grilled creature of the sea arrives it is a whole fish with head and everything – the captain is freaked, however when he cautiously takes a small piece, he tastes the fish and it is just divine. Within minutes four whole fish disappear into our bellies alongside with an onion filled focaccia which is better than I have tasted before. At this point I draw a blank on how we are outside the bar taking a taxi home. I do however remember sitting with the co-captain and rebel leader at a drinking house near our apartments, calling last drinks and the captain heading home solo only to pass-out within seconds. I did realise that something was wrong, I left it to exhaustion but the captains body was saying no.

The night seemed long and painful, the captain waking up multiple times coughing and short of breath to the point of fainting – it was as if scurvy had hit the captain. Waking up in the morning pale and unable to speak the rebel leader and co-captain realised that help was required. The captain was not well and looked like something was wrong. The sins of the past had caught up with him and incarnated themselves as a dreadful illness. Sitting up we evaluated the situation and although the captain could barely speak, he sat with the co-captain heading the words of General Joske and planning how they could go and see Petra. With an open browser, wifi, within 1 hour they had organised a trip the following day to visit the country of Jordan, travelling with a chartered plane to visit the beautiful wonder of the world Petra. Now back to the other problem that needed a solution; a dying veteran.

The captain felt ill to the point he was feeling like he was going to faint due to low oxygen in his lungs. Everything was hurting. The shortness of breath alongside the constant coughing and green phlegm was now extreme. The team pulled together, it was not long before the squad was on route to a ship doctor – Tel-Aviv Soursky Hospital.

Reaching the hospital, the captain was quickly x-rayed and blood tested – he was then taken to the emergency medical department where time slowed. Doctors came to check up on him as he lay like a fish out of water in a hospital bed. After hours of waiting it was discovered that his scurvy came in the form of Asthma triggered by a viral infection. His lungs had progressively gotten worse as the lack of sleep, minimal sustenance, rest and ongoing ‘strenuous’ activities took the better of him. The captain was soon put on the Asthma Nebulizer and was treated with steroids. 6 hours and $500 later he was discharged with a series of prescription medicine.

Departing the hospital, the fish out of water felt more like a turtle out of water and had a slightly better grasp of what was going on. His lungs functioning; at least at 60% - the team went and hired a car – It would be best to option to pack the luggage in the vehicle, as we checked out and flew to Jordan the next morning. We hired the car from the airport, the captain dead on the back seat. Once we had hired the car we realized that this would be the last day in Tel-Aviv, and without any hesitation aside from the loud breathing noises and the feeling of death we took the hired car to the Old City of Jaffa.

Old Jaffa City was worth it. An area surrounded by beautiful restaurants, bars, with light and music pumping. Once again the photos and words do not do it justice. The vibe was ecstatic, people eating, dancing, drinking, people old, young, people on dates, out with friends, everything. The captain was feeling extremely faint, the squad walked around holding him in an upright position. We walked, the captain limped and after a quick Google search we found the best rated restaurant in Jaffa City “Puaa”.

The day had been long and there had been no sustenance or times to sit and eat something. This moment was for eating and… if you promise not to tell the doctor… DRINKING. Yes, the captain was back on a strong Jerusalem Ale as he drank more. He could swear the alcohol was killing the bugs in his system. The feast was divine. Consisting of meats, salads and the tastiest Moussaka I have ever had. The beer took the captain to the next level as he reached the car and passed out once again in the back seat as the rebel leader and co-captain drove around Tel-Aviv for the last time.

We reached home at 1 am – we were scheduled for the 5:30 am chartered flight to Petra, meaning we would have to load the luggage to our hired car at 4 am and be at the airport at 4:30. It was going to be a long day and the remaining 3 hours of sleep were going to take the squad a long, long way. It was time to say a goodnight to the City as we slept in Tel-Aviv for the last time.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Amsterdam.

City of Canals, Boats and Pirates.

Captains Log Day 7 - 29/07/16 7:06 am. Transavia

Amsterdam, old friend and older foe, once again with a bittersweet feeling, we bid thee farewell. The ship once again has been battered, and beaten as it escapes the tumultuous   seas of such a land. The squad remains a little scattered, a little exhausted, and all in all completely satisfied by their efforts of surviving the adult Disneyland.

For the fifth time in the country, we arrived by train. The squad proceeded to spend most of the day exploring. The captain feeling a little sea sick retired early to the dingy cabin located in the heart of the city, with narrow steep stairwells, curving like fusilli pasta. During this time, the rebel leader and co-captain rekindled an old flame with the city by exploring new found lands, with streets full of exotic foods, drinks, and other hallucinogenic substances.

Returning from their mini adventure the battalion brought gifts for the Captain. This pleased the captain and he did not know if it was the gesture of the gifts or the gifts themselves that stimulated his senses more. The day ended with these high notes.

The head of the curiosity stick poked its little head, and prompted the team to venture out of Amsterdam Central. It was time to take it out of the city and explore lands that none of the members had been to. Loaded with supplies the battalion decided to target Rotterdam. Smashing some Mannkien Pies Fritz (The best in Amsterdam) the squad boarded a train to Rotterdam, enjoying the scenery (vividly) along the way.

The mentally eventful train ride flew by, we disembarked to our first Dutch rural adventure. We strolled around exploring, stopping to try some fruit juices, and snacks (jackfruit chips) as well as utilising the supplies. One thing worth mentioning at this point, as we walked past an organic fruit shop, the captain and the co-captain bought a Nectarine (when in Rome). Words cannot describe the taste and the juiciness of this fruit. It was by far the best fruit we had ever eaten. Covered in the sweet nectar of nectarine we continued.

Our adventurous walk led us firstly to a megastructure Market Hall (Markthal) which blew our minds, a curved warehouse; the building itself being a masterpiece of architectural art. Here we bought and devoured local Olives seasoned with tomatoes, herbs and garlic. Overwhelmed by the awesomeness of the structure, and palates fully satisfied we headed to the next pinned drop location – Erasnus Bridge.

The Bridge and the surroundings did not cease to impress as we took photos, and did tourist things. Finally parched from our walking and satisfied by our voyage so far we looked for a Bar to celebrate. Our pirate instincts kicked in as we walked past a sailboat that had been converted into a bar – This was just meant to be.

Fighting the urge to make our ways to the Captains deck we placed ourselves in the cabin, and started slamming down some of the finest pirate ales we could get our hands on. Hours passed. – What seemed like hours and finally well marinated we stumbled out of the sailboat, unfortunately this time we were not able to undock and sail home though the thought did arise. Many times.  

It seemed that the intoxication had gotten the better of us and the sun had set – the time was to commence our induced happy journey back to town. A very happy train ride and the clock moved to the AM hours, the stronghold approached.

Catching up on sleep the squads last day commenced a little later than usual, however it was precious sleep that the crew had to bank – the days ahead would come with only a few hours sleep. We were to fly at 6am the following morning, this day had to mean something, this day had to lay a milestone of our Amsterdam leg of our trip. That it did.

Starting off with beers and eye candy at the red light district the squad managed to board an unlimited drinks day boat cruise around Amsterdam. When in Amsterdam, drink Heineken and tour around the canals. At one point I was not sure if it was the boat rocking or our minds at this point and the time was only 5PM.

Once again failing to commandeer the boat we disembarked, once again we were stumbling. Apparently, hijacking any vessel is frowned upon; even if you’re a pirate.

Pleasantly lubricated we had a pit stop at our dock and joined the Amsterdam Pub Crawl, which coincidently crossed our dock. The night went to plan, drinks, dancing, socialising with a sprinkle of “doing heavy things”. Bar to bar we hopped, skipped, danced and ran, time creeping towards our last hours in the country and our minds we started drowning in the elixir. 2:30 am struck as we stumbled to our dock paranoid on how we were to lower our load the luggage down from the 3rd floor in a stairwell barely 1 meter wide. The struggle was real. The luggage made it. Nobody slipped. Win!

Marinated like Nandos chicken, 0 hours of sleep, in our clubbing outfits we zipped our bags across Amsterdam to reach Central Station. Loading our bags we were off to the airport, red eyed drunk and minds jumbled like moms spaghetti. It was time to say goodbye once again to the country that had given us so much, and taken so many of our brain cells.

Donation complete. We left our minds, our lungs and our marks on Amsterdam City.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Brussels.

The Silent Mecca of EDM music. City of beer, dreams, love, music, peace and unity.

Captains Log Day 4 - 26/07/16 1:26 am. SNCF Railways.

The first shadows of a new era beset upon our feet. The faithful Co-Captain Avi was getting ready to set an anchor in his life, he was soon to be married. History has shown us, that to welcome a new milestone the mind, body and soul has to transform. Grow. Learn. However, we were not going to let this metamorphosis happen without an ode to the times. A big hoorah. A celebration to cast a shade on any other celebration in our lives. Welcome to the logs of #avisbuxx

This was not going to be any adventure; this would be a pilgrimage to honor the man. The Captain set off gathering the crew, the brave men that would dedicate mind body and soul to the cause. This mission was only for the prepared. The selected troops were the Captain, Co-Captain Avi and the newly promoted Rebel leader Amit. The journey to the first destination was long, but we had managed to entertain ourselves by playing chicken games on an iPad for 13 hours. A stopover in Abu Dhabi consisted of a quick replenishment meal as we boarded our remaining 8-hour flight to the country of Belgium. Once again sleep was not our friend, barely catching an hour or two the whole journey.

Red eyed at 9am we arrived in the city of Brussels, and not long after we made it to our hotel only to be advised that the room would not be ready for another 3 hours. This only meant one thing.  Engage tourist mode. Within minutes (after getting lost for a bit) we were off out of the city to explore sites like the Atomniom (an alien like giant structure) and Mini Europe (self-explanatory). A quick snack of the local delicacy of Fritz (chips with mayo) and we decided to continue our sight-seeing adventures, as we headed 2 hours away to, a university town, and visit the Herge museum (think TinTin). 42 hours after leaving Melbourne we finally reached our hotel for a warm shower a rest, although just as the micro sleep fairies started hovering over our heads it was to go out again.

Legs shivering from the lack of sleep, exhaustion peaking and the mind full of the adrenaline of adventure we wander around, searching for a place to eat. Captain suggests a beer to kick off the night and relax the nerves, at first the co-captain refuses saying we should have dinner first, however democracy is called when the Rebel leader agrees with the idea. The request is the large pint, the drinks start flowing when democracy is called again when the co-captain suggest one round each before we eat..... a pub hop ensues, a beer at a live music bar, this then turns into a stumble to see the Pissing Boy (a landmark of the city). As Rebel leader and Captain took photos of this monument, the Co-Captain had found his next bar. It seemed the there was a party going on, people yelling and singing in French, this seemed like an apt place. Not long after the Co-Captain was being cheered as he sculled a beer, then being invited to dance to a chant – which involved a lot of yelling “TIKI TAKA TIKI TAKA“ on the streets. Absolutely on a different planet we left the club only to realize that we had not had anything to eat and the time was 1 am – stumbling once again we ended up at Fritzland, a place that we had starred on our map as it had the best Fritz in the country, they also served beer. Smashing down some fritz with samurai sauce the Captain lead the crew to the next bar, the Brazilian variety. Not long after we lost the Rebel leader – with no contact, the co-captain and captain scoured the streets and bars of Brussels looking for him only to return home at 4:30 am to find him fast asleep in his bed.

The day had arrived. The Pilgrimage was to peak. The main reason we were in this beautiful country. Tomorrowland! Those that don’t know what Tomorrowland is, I can summarise it, however I cannot do it justice. No words, no graphical explanations, no level of detail,  no images can convey what Tomorrowland is. Tommorowland is a Dance Music Festival which hosts the biggest DJs in the world in a Disneyworld like theme park. 160,000 people. 16 stages. A place of Love, Peace. Music. This is the Mecca of EDM music. This is a pilgrimage that anyone that loves this genre of music must attend. This is the holiest ground for EDM music..

Hungover, armed with our masks, water bottles, spare phone batteries, the squadron caught an uber, goosebumps as we rode to war, this was a battle we had dreamed of fighting for years. The time had come. The giganticness of the festival, the beauty of the stages cannot be described here, and the photos and videos you see cannot convey the emotion you feel on this ground. We headed to the main stage, just to be blown away. We were lucky enough to rendezvous with some other Pirates that joined our squadron. Reverend Raj and Prince Patel, veterans, of Tomorrowland Brasil, our tour guides on this mind-blowing trip. The company was well appreciated our team had formed and we fought hand in hand. We went and saw, Ferry Corsten, FTampa, Dada Life, Don Diablo, GTA, RaveCave, Steve Aoki, Steve Angello, Yellow Claw ending it with Martin Garrix, and Like Mike and Demitri Vegas. We left, with withdrawals of the night to ensue.  Even as I write this log I feel my heart skip a beat. This was the BEST Night of Our lives – nothing can ever come close to what we felt. The Fellowship was broken as we departed a land of dreams and music. Broken we ended up back home after 12 hours of non-stop dancing at 6am, having the inability to sleep due to the blood rushing though our body and thoughts unable to let go of what we had experienced we finally slept at 7:30am. We were later to find, that one of our companions had to be hospitalized due to the exhaustion that came with 3 days of heaven

Waking up a few hours later we still could not stop thinking about the night that was. After speaking about the night before we finally arose and continued our sight-seeing across the city, visiting all the remaining places. The beauty of the city is unfathomable. Once again the grandeur is not doing justice by image, we strolled to the grand place. We went to a few chocolate shops and indulged in some of the finest chocolate in the world. Joining the locals we bought some beers and sat in front of the grand structures and contemplated our nights activities. Since it was the last night we thought a pub crawl was the right thing to do. Once again we got home and 20 minutes later we are out and about to join the pubcrawl. Meeting new people commenced. It was time for the Aussie battalion to take control, introducing the people to the drinking games, getting everyone involved, time accelerated as people started dropping like flies. BUFFELO. Jumping from bar to bar, we once again had a huge night, returning home at 4 am with high concentrations of liquids in our systems.

Sleep was once again not our friend, the squadron awaking a few hours later, and spending the last few hours of our stay watching Tomorrowland videos, see here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ME4sx9UEJPM - scroll to 17.45 and see if you recognize someone. Spending enough time on the videos, we left the hotel in the last minute only to reach our train to Amsterdam 2 minutes prior to its departure.

To sign off this log, I need to say that, going to Tomorrowland just proves that Dreams are only dreams when you sleep; when you are awake, you have the chance to make them a reality.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Delhi & Agra.

A motherland I can not leave behind, a country full of love, hospitality and a heap of traffic.

Captains Log Day 16 – 09/01/16 1:44pm. Qantas

Just like that the Captain is completing his travels once again, leaving his final destination, a special one at that. His Motherland. This one wasn’t going to be an easy one conquer.

The Admiral and Captain waited about 2 hours in the confines of the Airport waiting room in Dubai international Airport, surrounded by a vast population of travelers. The overpopulated waiting room was only signs of what awaited us after our 4 hour flight.

4 hours so we thought. After our 2-hour wait, we were boarded onto a transport bus that took about 20 minutes to reach the plane, at points I had started believing that we were going to be driving from Dubai to India. Unfortunately, as interesting as that story would have been – that was not the case. Although more excitement was to come, as once we boarded the flight, we had not been given permission to take of, leading to another hour, this time in a much more confined space.

Finally, we were up in the air. Indian Standard Time. We sored high over the desert once again. I wrote my blog about the Portuguese adventures and tarts.. oh heaven.

We landed in New Delhi not too much later, seemed that we had waited the same amount of time as the flight took. We gathered our bags and headed off to look for a cab. With ease we reached our destination – said to be Close to the airport it was 25 minutes away, which reflects the size of the nations capital.

The captain was lucky, he had a comrade in Australia, General T who had allowed the captain and the admiral stay at his barracks in Delhi. We arrived and left our bags in the place, soon after the captain’s cousin and his family arrived to great the admiral and I. The Captains cousin, who happens to be a real Colonel in the Indian Army, decided its best to take the captain and Admiral to his place, for dinner and drinks. The night concluded to a quiet one (even though both the Captain and Admiral felt pretty tipsy at the end of it) as we caught up and had a few drinks and a lovely dinner with cousins, nieces and the Admiral.

The second day commenced with us waking up much later than expected, we had a few things planned for the day. The captain had to go on some family duties and visit his grandmother, as the Admiral went to Cousin Colonels office to spend the day. Both these activities went pretty uneventful, aside from the bucket loads of Delhi Traffic. I had a successful rendezvous with my lovely grandmother and my little cousins – who are not that little anymore. After visiting m grandmother, I stopped by General T’s place and organized a Maid to come in and do some dusting, since nobody was living there the place had given into the Delhi dust storms and accumulated a bit of dust.

Cleaning completed and time slipping past, I met up with the Admiral and we decided to head to the shopping city of Delhi – Connaught place and do some shopping, taking the Metro (train) we embarked our journey, only arriving an hour later (did I mention the sheer size of Delhi)- we had an hour and we used it wisely, grabbing 2 jeans, a pair of chinos and having the famous Depauls Iced coffee, our mini escapade was complete. Our hour journey back was entertaining as we discussed all the shopping we could have done if we had more time. Exhausted we had a feat awaiting us at the colonel’s place, with a delectable chicken curry served with whiskey – feeling pampered and once again tipsy we hit the sack. Our friends were to arrive tomorrow – Our good friends, all the way from Strayaa!.. Lieutenant Arthur and Second Lieutenant Alisha. This could only mean trouble.

Waking up to a message that the Lieutenant’s flights were delayed was a relief, without realizing it, the captain had consumed a few too many the night before.  The extra 2 hours sleep was well accepted, but it only mean that the days activities had to be condensed into less time.

Grabbing the team from the airport and we were off, pleasantries and some stories shared in the cab, first up we went to Akshardham, a hindu temple established by a Gujrati hindu sect. unfortunately the cameras and phones were taken off us so we couldn’t take photos, an interesting story happened to admiral in the temple, however it is not to share in this forum. The next few hours we walked admiring the temples beauty, we watched a live show on its history and went on a boat ride exploring India and its achievements. The plan was to push the admiral into the water in the boat ride, however she strategically positioned herself away from the edges, plan foiled. Quickly hustling the next destination (but not too quickly as the Lieutenant and I were amazed by 2 weasels we saw running around.. WEASELS ARE COOL) which was the Baha’I Lotus temple – a temple shaped like a lotus. When we arrived, this was shut. We did however take some photos of it from outside.

Once again with time slipping by it was time to eat, what better place to enjoy Delhi then to head to the ancient, overpopulated and “real” Delhi area of Chandi Chowk – Wikipedia defines Chandni Chowk as “Chandni Chowk is one of the oldest and busiest markets in Old Delhi, India”. Arriving to this place was a culture shock to the Admiral and the squad. One word to describe this would be “hectic”. People hustling everywhere, with something triggering every sense. To get to the desired destination, the famous Kabab place Karims (featured in Time Magazine, as one of the most famous and oldest places in Asia), we had to take a mode of transport other than car, as a car could not fit the narrow streets of the neighborhood. We hailed a transport that I had not seen before – it looked like an offspring of an Auto (TukTuk) and a Rikshaw, we nicknamed it ‘the machine’. The Machine took on the traffic as it weaved through the traffic in confidence, the passengers however fearing for their lives at every point of the journey. The Driver along the way was throwing insults as well as receiving them, one entertaining and less vulgar one being “you drive like a corpse”.

We reached the infamous Karims and were NOT disappointed, devouring servings upon servings of the famous kebabs, our life threatening journey had been worthwhile. Next up the Famous Chandi Chowk desert, the Falooda. We found another “Machine” like transport and were on our way, this time a little more eventful, as we had a few accidents on the way, our driver managed to hit a scooter, another machine, a ricksaw and to top it off a kid on a cycle. Abuses were hurled but the show went on, as if hitting each other was a norm in this crazy place. Safely arriving at the Famous desert place, both the Lieutenant shyed away as it contained Ice and Milk, whist the brave Admiral and I devoured one falooda, it was just as good as I remember as a kid – delicious, no wonder the place is over 100 years old.  Bellies full and the Delhi initiation complete we ventured back to the Car.

The last destination for the night was a club that a friend of mine partly owned in one of the clubbing districts of Delhi. Without having enough time to head back home and get ready we decided to just get changed in the car and head straight to the club. Knowing Delhi distances going home and heading back would take forever.

Ready we entered the busy part of the clubbing district, I was to meet my friend at the time, however he had to fly urgently to china, unfortunately I missed him. He is a bit like my idol so I was a little sad. He helped remove that sadness by opening up the VIP area for us at his Club “Moonshine”. We walked in thinking its Tuesday – the place will be empty, however to our surprise the place was PUMPING! Crowded and with an awesome DJ we navigated our way to our private area, which had its own bar and table service. This was going to be a bug night.. 2 long island ice teas and 5 large Grey Goose and Sodas later the night was getting to be a blurr. We left as the cops rocked up to shut the place down – it was past curfew, which meant it was LATE. As we walked to the car a group of guys were singing OZZY OZZY OI we joined in – turns our 2 of them were from Sydney.. we danced with them on the street drunkenly for a while before we decided we needed to get home

It was 2 am – we had to leave Delhi for Agra at 7 – we were very very drunk. Silently we drove to General T’s Place. Stumbling in, we showered, packed everything, although the night is a blur I do remember the admiral falling asleep in her suitcase to which I said “What are you doing” - passed out only to be woken 3 hours later, extremely hungover/ drunk we boarded our luggage into the car. We got ready for our 3-hour journey to Agra this was going to be #painful.

Painful is an understatement, the Captain drew the short straw and had to sit in front. The three from the squad falling asleep in the back. Dozing in and out of sleep myself I woke to see that the driver was having a MICRO NAP! Freaked out I woke up the admiral and we started talking to him – he said he wasn’t sleeping. From this point it was the Captians duty to stay awake and guard. In the journey I caught the driver twice more, before I instructed him to stop, fed him, made him have tea and called his boss to complain. Awkwardly the boss told me “He said he wasn’t sleeping” to which all I could say was “ok” although the squad has seen him sleeping.

Not any sooner could Agra arrive, and due to our lost time for stops and lunch we rushed to the Taj and Red Fort. One other of the captain’s cousin is a senior Cyber Security expert in the Agra Police, since he heard I was going to the Taj, he had organized a police escort to lead us the whole way. Shortly after entering Agra a police officer called me and asked me to come to the station to meet, from there he let us to the Taj in a Shuttle service, right up to the gates. From there we took a tour guide and explored one of the 7 wonders of the world.

The tour of Taj was beautiful, the incomparable insignia that the mad made marvel left on our brain was forever to be remembered. Taj glimmering and the history lesson complete, we headed off to the second best offering of history – the Red fort, here we learnt of the Mughal rulings of India, ancient warfare and the mindset of ‘no expense spared’. The Lieutenant and captain were more interested in the 352 mistresses the king had and the royal fun times. Completing these marvels, we headed to the hotel to check in.

The accommodation organized was a nice hotel in the center of Agra city, it was clean and newly constructed. Just as we checked in my cousin dropped in and swopped the admiral and myself and took us on a tour to meet my scattered family around Agra – it was phenomenal. The love and caring I felt, it was as if I had never left India, I really miss the Tandon Clan. Full of gratitude and love we got dropped back at the hotel, where we had a beer, grabbed some dinner and called it a early night as the second part of the historical tour awaited the next day, although the drama continued into the night as the Admiral had been struck by the Delhi belly, the night was full of vomiting and queasiness for the Admiral.

The next morning we headed for an older relic than the Red Fort Fatehpur Sikri – Wikipedia time again – “Fatehpur Sikri is a city in the Agra District of Uttar Pradesh, founded in1569 by the Emperor, Akbar, and served as the capital of the Mughal Empire from 1571 to 1585. After his military After victories over Chittor and Ranthambore, Akbar decided to shift his capital from Agra to a new location 23 miles (37 km) W.S.W on the Sikri ridge, to honour the Sufi saint Salim Chishti”. This beautiful historic monument was also the home to Salim Chisti Mosque, famous for making wishes come true “It is believed that by offering prayers at this mazar whatever one wishes will be fulfilled. There is also a ritual of tying a thread at the marble windows of this Dargah in order to have one's wishes fulfilled.”

We arrived and started being hassled by beggers for tours etc. we declined saying Nahin Nahin and which from the admiral mouth sounded like a horse NAW NAW! We jumped in a Auto (TukTuk) and headed up to the palace – surprisingly and from nowhere a beggar jumped on too! Begging as he was hanging from the side of the Auto… I was a bit “WTF!!!” We toured the beautiful palace and visited the Salim Chisti mosque in which we made our wishes. It was a very spiritual experience we all felt a little overwhelmed, finally we were taken and sat besides some Sufi singers as they sang religious songs to Allah. Once again the experience was overwhelming

We left a little bit of us behind as we left Fathepur Sikri and headed back to Agra to see the last piece of our historical voyage – Sikandra, The Tomb of Akbar the Great. Taking another tour guide we witnessed where the great Mughal emperor had been buried and we paid our respects. Finishing up we headed to the grba some missed western food at Pizza Hut and then to the hotel, were we rested for a while before getting ready for dinner with my family.

The last night in Agra, We visited a much loved temple and then went to my family home in Agra for a huge feast that my cousin’s wife had prepared. To build up an appetite I took the squad of a tour of my mother house – it comprises of about 32 bedrooms (not a typo 32 is correct) a mansion in all rights. The squad shocked by the place. Finally, we sat with my loving family and ate and talked. Honestly a huge experience for me as I had not seen them in 8 years. It Was lovely and the hospitality just like family. It felt like home. After only scratching the surface of the meal, having a fantastic conversation with my niece and hearing my other talented nephew play an amazing solo on the piano we had to bid farewell. Hugs and love to all.

Next morning it was time to head back to Delhi, and in particular to meet my very good friends in Gurgoan. It was also to be our last night in India. After having some breakfast at the hotel we left, nice and early to miss the traffic, this time our driver well rested we imagined on reaching on time. There however was a heap of FOG. Not the normal kid you see here, but A LOT of fog – you could not see further than 10 meters in front in the car. Slowly driving we got to the toll point were a huge line had formed – turns out the road was closed as there had been a 7 car accident which left 25 people dead. We waited patiently and, it was an hour later that traffic started moving again. Along the way we saw 7 more accidents on the side of the road. The fog had set – visibility lower than ever.

Arriving at Gurgaon the Lieutenant was exhausted and vowed not to get back into the car. We met with w of my very good friends, one of which I had not seen in over 6 years, she had not changed and was as lovely as ever. It was fantastic to meet both of them as we went to a steak hose to have lunch – chosen by the lieutenant as he saw beef on the menu. Turned out to be buffalo. The conversation was extremely engaging we spoke about work, life, travels and how different things were now. It was heartwarming to see both of them, and once again it felt like I was always in India.

It was time to split ways with my friends, as the Admiral and Captain had to venture back into Delhi to pick up the last bag and to return General T’s Keys to his relative. Leaving the lieutenants behind with one of my friends we headed off to tackle the traffic.

Without boring you with our boring journey through Delhi, we returned the keys and headed back to Gurgoan, as our final night would be spent with a friend. Completing 12 hours cooped up in the car we finally got back and unloaded our bags into my friend’s fathers BEAUTIFUL house, I also got to meet my friends husband for the fist time, who turned out to be as lovely as her and a total champ.

Dumping our bags and changing into something more comfortable, we got ready as the night was not over. My Friend had organized an dinner and drinks at a bar for us, we headed over and were treated to an fantastic meal and once again great conversation. I also introduce the lieutenant to Old Monk Rum, which went down a treat. Chowing down till our bellies went into overtime, the night was complete. We headed home, where we sat and went over the wedding albums (a wedding I shamefully missed) we spoke till late night. Once again the hospitality was one to admire.

Saying goodbye and waking up early were both very tough. As the lieutenant’s flight left before mine he awoke before me and before he left he gave me a big hug! It will be the last time I see them, for a while as they is embark on a London adventure. Our alarm went off an hour earlier and I went and woke up the Admiral – she acknowledged and little to my knowledge fell asleep again. I went to bed only realizing 10 minutes later that she had fallen asleep. I awoke again startling her by saying “we will miss our flight” – in a mad rush we got ready and after a cup of tea with uncle got into a cab, destination airport.

The flight back was fun, with one leg covered by just watching the movie Jodha Akbar, which covered all the historical places we had covered. Both the admiral and I decided not to sleep and tried to cram as much viewing in as possible. Landing in Melbourne RedEyed.

India, a motherland I can not leave behind, a country full of love, hospitality and a heap of traffic.

At the end of epic adventure, I have learnt more then one can imagine, about history, people, life and different lands. I Have learn about Myself and I have learnt about my travel companion, the Admiral. I have grown as a person, with thousands more experiences and unforgettable memories. Aside form the craziness and epic adventures this trip like my others have been a life changing experience.

“Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention to arrive safely in a pretty and well preserved body; but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming 'Wow! What a ride!'” - Hunter S. Thompson

Signing out until my next adventure - Captain

[whiterabbitpeak]

Lisbon.

The City of History, Mystery, Hashish and Tarts.

Captains Log Day 11 – 03/01/16 4:24pm. Emirates

Goodbye Portugal and thank you for the party. A party hard to forget even harder to remember. Well Played, Abrigado.

India awaits as we leave the city of Lisbon, flying to Dubai for a quick layover, only to be stranded with delayed connecting flights. This wouldn’t be the first time, on these travels that the captain and admiral have landed themselves in the waiting areas of middle eastern airports. A fantastic time to slow down this rollercoaster and reflect on (try to remember and piece together) what has happened over the last few days.

Happy New Year. 2016 was off to a good start with a cadet being spear tackled to the ground by security, ending up with cuts and grazes on his elbow, all for 6 Euro – more on this later.

Landing in Lisbon from Morocco was a restructure of our minds, not knowing what to expect we had been transported from one ancient city to another. However between the two cities, the age was the only common factor.

Departing the airport our taxi driver was an angry angry man, barely speaking a word to us during our 20-minute commute into town. However, he did have enough to say to other drivers as he weaved past them hurling abuse. A little scared, both Admiral and myself enjoyed the contrasting architecture of the city. An Air BnB would be our castle for the following 4 nights, and once again we arrived to find… 3 stories of stairs. Our Host had been waiting and due to the delay we had made it to our resting spot by sun down, a lovely apartment located in the city of Lisbon, in the heart of Bairro Alto – the bar district of Lisbon. I would say this was an apt spot for the captain and the admiral. With great difficulty and assistance of our host, we hoisted our luggage up to the room.

Exhausted and hungry we set out to explore Lisbon, walking along the town hunting some dinner. Walking out of our apartment we noticed that we were located in the heart of the Lisbon tourist district, this will no doubt come in handy.

Turning the first corner we noticed a long line outside a bright store, curiosity getting the best of us we shuffled our way in. The store sold Portuguese Custard Tarts and well .. that’s it. Admiral Akbar had heard of these tarts before, as her comrade had previously told her that these were the Portuguese specialities. With Curiosity getting the best of us we worked our way to the counter and ordered ‘one’ tart to try, the girl at the counter astonished and responding with confusion “one!?”. I replied “yes one, we just want to try these” she looked at me, smiled ad said “These are like heaven”. We were advised that “ the locals sprinkle theirs with Sugar and Cinnamon” to which we followed suit. Quickly exiting the store, wondering what heaven tasted like, i had a bite into the pastry… THESE WERE THE MOST DELICIOUS THINGS EVER!!! i lost my mind as i passed them to the Admiral to try, soon after she too was mind blown at how yummy these tarts were. We left the shop ecstatic and vowing to grab another 2 after our return from our walks we moved on (little did we know that during our 4 day stay we will end up devouring 13 of these tarts) - see * for Tart counter

Walking 50 meters down the road our fist Gyspy approached ushering “Hashish, Marajuana, cocaine” as he walked past, startled both the admiral and i kept our heads down and kept walking. we turned to each other a few meters down and validated what we had heard. Continuing along the hustle and bustling city, another gypsy approached stating the same cause. We declined and continued. What followed in the space of a kilometre was several other of these tradesman approaching us, some even showing us the goods and saying that “its legal to consume in Portugal” we politely declined and made a note to google this back at home. Exploring, we walked past the Oldest bookshop in the world (random).  Our first meal was some Portuguese grill done badly at a ‘tourist trap’ restaurant, without being disheartened as we knew the heaven tarts awaited. *(+2 = 3 Total)

NYE. things were going to get heavy. Following lessons learnt, the hydration started early, with both the admiral and the captain competing with our Moroccan camel friends in terms of water consumption and retention. Recovering from the constant jet lag, a sleep in was well  earned. We started off by booking our night’s festivities, ensuring we had planned our destruction of Lisbon to bring in the new year. We were to represent ourselves in a Lisbon Pub Crawl.  Once the night was sorted we booked a walking tour of Lisbon.

As we had time to kill before the walking tour, firstly we grabbed our tarts *(+2 = 5 Total) we headed out to see the church of Sao Roque, which is the richest church in the world after the vatican. As we arrived we had been advised by security that we cannot enter until after the Mass, which both he Admiral and I requested to attend (not realising the entire thing was to be in Portuguese) we were allowed to join. Walking into the church our mind was blown - the whole thing was GOLD. These words cant give it justice - please refer to the photos and see the Sao Roque in all its glory. Shiney eyed and holified we left to join the Walking tour.

The group was assembling on Hashish Square (The square lovingly named by us, where we had been approached by the aforementioned gypsies the previous night) we joined the tour, which comprised of people from all across the globe and a fantastic tour guide. Walking along the 7 hills of Lisbon both were astonished at the history and stories of ‘The oldest city in western Europe’. I would like to share one of the learnings that astonished us.

Captain’s Quick History Lesson: Did You Know  “In 1755 Lisbon had an earthquake that measured in at 9.0 on the richter scale. The earthquake destroyed the city, it went for 10 minutes!! The survivors ran towards the sea and saw a path opening in the water, they believed god was opening the sea for them. This however was a tsunami, that destroyed whatever was not left in the city. Since this happened on Saint’s day at 9:30 am most people were in Church… when in church you have candles, this means fire, and that’s what happened, a 4 day fire that killed everything that the earthquake and tsunami had spared. In fact more people died from the fire than the earthquake and tsunami combined. The people that survived were the Sailors, Prostitutes and criminals as they were in Bars and establishments far away from the city.”

Enough History for today - On the tour coincidently we met a couple from Melbourne, the Cadet after some time getting acquainted asks if I went to RMIT, to which i said yes, he then asked if i did Business information Systems, to which I was shocked and said yes. Turns out we were a few years apart doing the same degree, in the same campus. we exchange details and realise we have 10 mutual friends and a hellovalot in common.  The world keeps getting Smaller. Mind full of history and mystery we leave the tour and hunt for some sustenance - 2016 is around the corner. *(+2 = 7 Total)

Pepped up and ready for the Pub Crawl, patrons await us at Hashish Square - we join the group, which seems like a heap of small groups which are not mingling at all. This has the admiral a bit worried, however i assure her that as the night goes on - these things only get more and more messy. Bar 1 and things start to get loose. 1 hour of unlimited beer and sangria could only spell disaster. We meet some new fellow Cadets - one from Brisbane and another from Sydney. Drinking and socialising we come up with a genius idea to go and see the fireworks and join the pub-crawl later. We are warned by the Pub Crawl master that, there are too many people and you will never find the group. The cadets have decided - we don't want to spend our NYE in a bar or club. Our 2 new friends by our side and 2 beers each in our hand at 11:42 the squadron moves, rushing, drinking and trying not to get lost as we make it toward the Lisbon Pier to watch the fireworks. Things are getting hazy as we join the crowds of thousands of people rushing to see the fireworks. We make it. The countdown is spectacular, the fireworks amazing and the street festivities manic. We dance, we drink, we laugh amongst thousands of people all celebrating.  NYE experience like no other.

Time to join the pub-crawl group again, the 4 cadets, drunk and happy with life as well as booze, we make a pitstop at a bar to hydrate and to pee. We grab a beer, chat and then decide its time to go, sneaking out the beer glasses as we move. Public drinking with pint glasses is a great experience. Exhilarating. Stumbling bar to bar we are unable to find the pubcrawl. We enter one bar, and as the bar tender is busy one of our newly found cadets takes it upon himself to rush behind the bar and top up his glass - without anyone noticing #legend. we still cant locate our pub-crawl - so we go to another bar and request a vodka lemonade, which is half vodka and a dash of lemonade. These guys know how to drink. In our lapse of concentration we loose one of our cadets, we look and look and he is just missing. With no sign of the pub-crawl we decide to walk to the final venue - The Beach club, the best club in Lisbon.

Prancing along the streets toward the final destination, I hear a yell. Mr Cadet (the only one left with us) has found the pub-crawl group! They were walking down to the club themselves! happy times, everyone is laughing as we walk down, asking about our adventures. Things were not all fun and games when one of the girls has a domestic with her partner and one other girls has lost her phone and is crying #drama. in our drunken splendour we walk to the club socialising with our worldly counterparts.

We arrive at Beach club to find our lost cadet is also there! he said he lost us so he walked to the club and aside from getting knocked back a few times had been waiting for us. The group re-united we enter the club and boy is it epic. Upon entering we get our Drink card - the club operates with a system that; every time you buy a drink they swipe the card and charge it - at the end of the night you pay a bill. Everyone gets a card as they enter.

To cut back to the epicness of the club I’ll summarise it as such: dancing, tour guides, Akbar chundering in the toilet, Captain chundering in the line for the toilet, heap of vodkas and blur blur blur. One part I do want to highlight and possibly the funniest part of the night is when Mr Cadet decides ‘I am not going to pay for the booze’ - when exiting the bouncer asks us for our cards which we pay for (well kind of - i am short  of cash and a knight in shining armour in the generosity of his heart covers me). Mr Cadet however only has 1 beer on his card worth a measly 6 Euro, he decides to Run for it! he makes a dash past the bouncer and as he is running, he trips and three bouncers jump on him! Spear tackled to the ground! Grazed and with cuts and wounds he pays the bill and joins us. We stumble back to our apartment, picking up randoms as we walk. We finally farewell our new found friends and I drop the admiral to the apartment. I then head off for a last drink at 5 am as the sun is rising - i don't need to look far to find a bar, and as I buy my last drink as it starts to rain, I realise that the Admiral has no keys, rushing back beer in hand, I open the door. Enter the house and pass out. <end nye carnage.>

The next day waking up at 1 pm we rush for our next walking tour, but not without having a few more tarts *(+2 = 9 Total). Both captain and Admiral wounded with a terrible hangover and feeling like death we walk around the Alfama area, struggling hard as we look at the castle and try the local liqueur Ginginha (sour cherry liqueur) doing our best not to throw up on our tour guide. Feeling like death we go home immediately after, cancelling our fancy dinner plans and trading them in for some sleep and terrible thai food.

Our last day in Portugal, we decide to spend it in the city of Sintra, a town that is 40 minutes by train from Lisbon City.  we grab our supplies *(+2 = 11 total) Sintra is a beautiful region filled with beautiful castles and plenty of secret passageways. We walk around, observing the castles and the scenic beauty of the region,both of us can clearly say that the aftermath of NYE has not left us yet. Sentra’s history and its gardens could not be captured in the photos, yet we try, taking selfies and artistic shots.

Rushing back we grab some lunch at a burger joint and pack our bags, followed by a large exercise of lowering these from the 3rd floor.  Our flight is to leave soon, but not without our final dosage of tarts *(+2 = 13 Total) we load our luggage in and depart to the airport, saying goodbye, mesmerised by the history and beauty Lisbon has to offer.

Portugal you have been beautiful, Abrigado

The Motherland is Calling

Lisbon the City of History, Mystery, Hashish and Tarts.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Marrakesh.

The real life Agrahbah, with surreal beauty, hospitality and a little bit of magic, that will stay with you a lifetime.

Captains Log Day 7 – 30/12/15 1:54pm. Royal Air Maroc.

Aboard our flying carpet (AirBus 737) we depart one of the most enchanting and magical places that we have ever been to. Minds filled with color, beauty, history and an experience of a land like no other, we depart with a whispering au revoiur and shukriyan to Morroco.

Rewind back 3 nights to our arrival into Marrakesh and those would not be our sentiments. Arriving from Amsterdam, a frontier in technology and ways of living, to Marrakesh; a city with an unchanged lifestyle flowing from centuries in the past, the culture shock was immense. Our flight went from Amsterdam to Casablanca, with a 40-minute stopover and then onto Marrakesh. With our first leg delayed, what occurred in Casablanca was chaos and a heap of running and arguing with officials. The Admiral was on point, doing all that was necessary, ensuring that we were getting on to that flight, and the captain can say (with delayed relief) we had made our flight to Marrakesh.

We landed in Marrakesh at 10pm, to a baron airport, dark and dingy, the stereotype was real. Exchanging some money, we huddled into a cab and set destination to Medina – Old town Marrakesh. The captain and admiral had previously decided if we were going to do this, we needed to do this right. Reaching the medina our taxi driver advised that the Riyad (What is this you ask? Keep reading – I will explain later) we were staying in was a 100 meter walk into some alleyway, unloading our luggage the team started trekking. The alleyway was narrow – about 2 meters wide, it was dark, and baron, with hardly any people, the ground was cobblestone, the whole thing resembling something that was built in the 14th century (it was). As we walked in the dark,  2 strangers decide to join us and start leading us to our Riyad. I can honestly say I was scared they were going to take us somewhere and mug us, we later found out this was a means of earning money, walking people through the alleyways and asking some money for their efforts. This had turned out to be a blessing as the alleyways got narrower, the places darker and the surroundings started to blur, after what seemed like a long walk we reached our Riyad, to be greeted by a lovely man named Suleiman, the Riyad manager.

We paid our guides (thanking god secretly that we had not been stabbed) and joined Mr Suileman as he walked us to our Riyad courtyard. Now would be a great time to explain what a Riyad is. A Riyad is a hotel of sorts with a shared courtyard/ terrace, where guest can gather in to have communal dinners and socialize. The courtyard is surrounded by rooms in which guests stay. Think of it as a common lounge room with bedrooms surrounding it.

Mr Suileman (who himself struggled to speak English), introduced us to a lovely French family staying at the Riyad as we sat, enjoyed tea and some fantastic conversation. We all sat like a family and talked, the social nature of the country was coming out. The time was ticking however and the captain was starving. Finally after about an hour of chit chat with some really nice people we went to our room. We stayed on the top Terrace room, a beautiful Moroccan themed bedroom. The challenge was getting up to the third floor via steps that were barely a meter wide, a task that would challenge the strongest person, let alone one with a snapped finger (Captain ingeniously broke his finger previous to flying). Mission accomplished we had checked in and the baggage had reached our room.

The next mission was to find something to eat. Mr Suleiman (with profuse use of his hands) described where we could get some food at 12am, turns out we were only 5 minutes walk from the infamous Marrakesh Market square Jemaa el-Fnaa. Using the captain's navigational prowess, we made it to the square. I think they got it wrong when they said New York is the city that doesn't sleep, they clearly have not been to Marrakesh.  The square was full of hustle and bustle with people coming over to ask about food and showing us the menus and offering the best food in Marrakesh. Another funny moment occurred when a shriek came from behind me, turning around I noticed it was from The admiral. She has almost slipped on a squashed tomato that was laying on the floor. With no damage done except to her ego continued to walk. The admiral was approached by a street seller that promised her "No Diarrhea" and with that I guess he was the winner. Seemed Legit if you ask me.

This seller has meat and everything laying on a slab of ice and out in the open, hesitant at first but assured we wouldn't get sick, we both decided to live on the wild side. With the philosophy ' when in Morocco' Meat sticks and Couscous it was. Delicious! Tummy full we prayed on the way back that food poisoning was not an outcome of the gluttony. A much needed sleep later, struggled to get up at 6 am for our 7am pickup. Destination Sahara Desert. Sleepy eyed we were loaded into a mini van along side several other Cadets from around the world. Little did we know at the time that what was to form from this 8 hour journey to the desert would be some very beautiful friendships.

Chugging along in a van, in which the Captain could not even fit his legs (yup, comfort levels were at rock bottom) we ventured through the breathtaking Atlas mountains. Winding roads, an overly erratic driver and a congested transport was a sure shot recipe for travel sickness, the admiral as well as 3 other Cadets as victims, bracing themselves for a regurgitation festival. Traveling (often facing death due to the speed and the rash driving) 300 km over 7 hours, through the steepest, highest (~2200 meters above sea level) and most winding roads was an experience we would not ever forget.  

We stopped along the way, at times to pee, at times to eat (bonding with our fellow cadets) and most of all to explore and take in some of the sights. One of these sights was a beautiful Berber (native Moroccan) village, and our berber tour guide had all the girls (old and young) smitten I wouldn’t blame them, the guy spoke 7 languages but had never been to school and had mesmorising green eyes. The village was also a set for some famous hollywood blockbusters such as Game of thrones and gladiator, with the locals often acting as extras.

We finally arrive at Zagora, the entrance into the Sahara. The sun has started to set and the cold is creeping in. From Zagora we need to take camels into the Desert to our campsite. At first the camels seem like a novelty. A guide points me to my camel - i get the angry camel  that's losing it as it walks and the Admiral gets a normal one that is closely followed by one that is frothing at the mouth. The admiral is constantly trying to avoid the saliva of the rabid camel, which coincidently liked the admirals bright blue jacket and was constantly trying to lick it.

After what seemed like a long journey and our bums sore as if we had been part of a dominatrix exercise we thankfully had reached our campsite. Relieved at the ability to use our own two feet we walked around and although it was dark, we admired the Sahara. Shortly after we were called to have Tea and then treated to a lovely Moroccan dinner of lentil soup, turkey tagine and some fresh local fruits. The conversation with our friends was a highlight worth pointing out, as each person came with a story and from different parts of the world. Topics included the likeness of our countries as well as the differences. Satisfied with conversation and bellies full we headed outside again, where the temperature had dropped. It was Freezing, our multiple layers and down jackets couldn’t protect us from the freezing desert temperatures (desert y u so cold?!) We huddled around a campfire and shortly after were treated to some traditional singing and folk music underneath the desert stars. It was surreal. I can say that amongst all the countries I have travelled this was one of the most magical moments in my life.

We then moved to our tents, we were given 2 thick blankets each, even in which were cold, the captain shortly fell asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night to see the admiral shivering “I have not slept all night”. The cold has beaten the Admiral. At dawn approaching we headed outside to an empty campsite and watched the sun rise. No words can describe this.   Once the sun was shining everyone was awake, enjoying some tea and breakfast before we set back on the camels, and back on our long journey home, chatting along the way with our new friends. We exchanged facebook’s and opened our homes if any of us were to visit in the future.

Once we reached Marrakech, we headed back to our riyad and were met with Mr Suleiman, who we sat with and described our adventures. Even with the least bit of common language our pictures could paint our journey. We headed back into the market to mark what things we wanted to buy from the bazaars. At this point I want to explain how lovely the Moroccan hospitality is; Mr Suleiman, the shop keepers, everyone wanting to help. At first it can be overwhelming, but once you realize it’s from the heart it’s warming and comforting, this is something I have never experienced anywhere. The people speak fluent French and Arabic and look as if they were grown from the earth; rugged, strong and strangely beautiful, their hands mirroring this sentiment.

We woke on our last full day in Marrakesh to an epic breakfast which had been prepared by the Riyad’s lovely maid. We sat and devoured this on the roof terrace overlooking the Marrakesh Medina and planning what we wanted to see.

Done with Brekky we set out, with our stars pinned and maps loaded, we visited palaces, gardens, mosques and even some tombs walking around for over 8 hours (most of this time the admiral spent taking pictures with doors) to see everything the ancient city had to offer. The beauty of the city is indescribable and what we could we captured in our photos, even those could not do the city justice. At this point the admiral’s itch to shop was getting the better of her, we rushed to the market and went a little crazy. The Market fit every stereotype, a real life Agrahbah, snake charmers, dwarf people playing the violin, dragon shaped eggs being sold, hecklers, beggars, bargaining, spices from around the world, tarot readers, singers and performers. It was Magical! I can close my eyes and see them as I write this log. Arms full of bags we headed back, getting back to the room and showing Mr Suleiman all our spoils, the last few hours dedicated to fitting these into our suitcases.

Waking up early, we were treated to another lovely breakfast, absorbing all of it, we lowered our overflowing bags and set off for the airport. When checking, the passport control officer referred to the Captain by a name he has never been called: “Tarzan Tandon” – No this is not one that will stick.

We leave Morocco full of admiration, experience and a little bit of magic. We leave morocco with a little piece of Marrakesh in us. We leave Morocco on our jet plane, our eyes and minds full of wonder and our hearts full of Moroccan beauty.

Morroco, the real life Agrahbah, with surreal beauty, hospitality and a little bit of magic, that will stay with you a lifetime. Captains Log Day 11 – 03/01/15 4:24pm. Emirates

Goodbye Portugal and Thank you for the party, a party hard to forget even harder to remember. Well Played, Abrigato.

India awaits as we leave the city of Lisbon, flying to Dubai for a quick layover, only to be stranded with delayed connecting flights. This wouldn’t be the first time, on these travels that the captain and admiral have landed themselves in the waiting areas of middle eastern airports. A fantastic time to slow down this rollercoaster and reflect on (try to remember and piece together) what has happened over the last few days.

Happy New Year. 2016 was off to a good start with a cadet being spear tackled to the ground by security, ending up with cuts and grazes on his elbow, all for 6 Euro – more on this later.

Landing in Lisbon from Morocco was a restructure of our minds, not knowing what to expect we had been transported from one ancient city to another, however between the two, the age was the only thing in common.

Departing the airport our taxi driver was an angry man, barely speaking a word to us during our 20-minute commute into town, although having enough to say to other drivers as he weaved past them hurling abuse. A little scared, both Admiral and myself enjoyed the contrasting architecture of the city. An Air BnB would be our castle for the following 4 nights, and once again we arrived to find… 3 stories of stairs. Our Host had been waiting and due to the delay we had made it to our resting spot by sun down, a lovely apartment located in the city of Lisbon, in the hear of Baro Alto – the bar district of Lisbon. I would say this was an apt spot for the captain and the admiral. With great difficulty and assistance of our host, we hoisted our luggage.

[whiterabbitpeak]

Amsterdam.

The city of Awe, Shock and Beauty all in one sentence. It will keep you coming back over and over again.

Captains Log Day 4 - 27/12/15 4:29pm. Royal Air Maroc.

Amsterdamage Proceedings have been complete. The captains 4th return to the city once again proved why it would not be his last (I love this place!). Reaching Holland on Christmas Day meant Santa had delivered and the Captain had been a very bad boy in the year

Like every new recruit Admiral Akbar has survived, although the culture shock has her still stuck in awe of the progressive nature of the country.

Due to the lost day in Qatar, the Captain and Admiral derived a pact, a treaty of sorts, and vowed to use every second of the time we had in Amsterdam. With that in mind upon our arrival into the country the exit procedures were swift and stealthy, like a fine tuned Dutch Ninja. We quickly left the airport, buying train tickets for a train that was in 180 seconds – we just made it, and with that started our approach to the city.

Like previous log entries, the marvels of the land can not be disclosed or described in these logs, due to many reasons, some of which the reader of this blog will know. However, this adult Disney land is full of mystery and intrigue that could be discussed with the captain over a bottle of Rum (in other words this is PG rated, the R18 version is available over a drink)

We arrived at our centrally located hotel – only to find the size of the room did not even permit both our large suitcases! Shoe box (or rather ClogBox) room, had a bed and a toilet with barely enough room to access either or. We quickly maneuvered our luggage, changed and moved. Our first few venues fall into the categories covered under the NDA therefore can not be disclosed in this forum, but shortly after and feeling slightly dizzy, we walked around admiring the beautiful architecture the city had to offer. Even after 4 times, this city still blows my mind – something that you would not see anywhere in the world. Speaking of which we also dropped into FEBO, a fast food chain in Holland that involved cooks cooking the foodies and placing it in a vending machine style wall – see other Amsterdam logs for more FEBO details.

Stumbling around ended when we decided it was time to go the Heineken experience. This worried the Admiral as she was not a beer fan. She had arrived the Bethlehem of it and she was about to see the Birth of beer on Christmas. Romantic aint it? To the Admiral’s surprise, she not only enjoyed the experience but even had 2 glasses of the golden elixir (which she did not completely enjoy). The beer theme park was a Dutch Duffland without the Duff oompa loompas. We left with smiles resembling the Heineken smiling ‘e’s.

With some Mega munchies we headed to the famous Frites shop (Chips with Mayo) walking (stumbling) along in the cold snowy city. the Admiral had the chance to taste the Frietz the captain had been raving about for a while – Chips in a Cone with Mayo – These Dutch know how to live.

Munching on our chips and stopping to have some “coffee” we walked to the to the Sex museum, only to find it was closed for Christmas – who would have thought. Keeping with the theme and craving some more giggles and adventure we walked towards the Red light district. This is where the Admiral was left in awe (shocked) and the term window shopping had changed forever. We walked around viewing the goods, unfortunately the captain was not allowed to sample.  It took some time for the Admiral to come to terms with what she had witnessed and a philosophical debate ensued... it was a long walk home…

Our last day in Amsterdam had begun, we had until 1 pm to venture before we had to head to the airport and not risk missing our flight again. A quick breakfast of boiled eggs and cold meats and we were off – our mission was to view the Van Gogh museum before we left the country.

We got to the museum in high spirts and after a wait, which to the admiral seemed forever (was 10 minutes) we got in. the second time in the museum and the wow factor does not cease, we walked around for a while reading the story and admiring the “Brushstrokes” of our man VG. We started running late, this only resulted in the admiral running around like a squirrel and popping her head to see the paintings like a Meerkat, jumping in front of serious art enthusiasts “hey, hey look at this! its Potato eaters!”. With time running into minus 15 minutes we rushed to the station, grabbing some take aways and souvenirs.

Checking in, with enough time to spare we spent the last few hours reminiscing how beautiful the experience was, and vowing to return.

Getting ready to Morroc N Roll!

Amsterdam – The city of Awe, Shock and Beauty all in one sentence. It will keep you coming back over and over again.