More Jamaica Experiences

Christmas in Jamaica came and passed, and it was quite a different affair as Vaniah said. While we were getting stories from back home of kids wanting to be pulled to their day-care and pre-schools on various kinds of snow-bound transportation, we were having quite a different experience. On Christmas day, apart from what Vaniah has already told you about we were sitting out the back sipping sorrel and trying to spot the hummingbirds. In the afternoon Bolvin (Vaniahs uncle) and I also went foraging for some Sugarcane to eat, to accompany all the other exotic fruit that the garden sprouts. So not all of it was hard labour, games and food...

After that, we deserved a little break and needed a little exercise, so in true Jamaican style we went climbing. Up a waterfall. Dunn's River falls has been voted best attraction in Jamaica a couple of years running now and its very easy to understand why. You walk down to a beautiful beach (try to go on a day when no cruise ships are around, its hard to spot the sand otherwise) where the sea is warm and there is plenty of watersports available. The main attraction though is a lot more fun and the water is a little cooler, although it is probably around 21-22 degrees Celsius, but nonetheless this is a good thing. The climb itself is not that hard and the first section is definitely the worst, but it is beautiful. Along the far side there are a few side streams that meander and it feels like you are a little further away from the throng of people, if you happen to go there on cruise ship day as we did. There are also quite a few tiny pools that have been carved out where you can soak for a while and just enjoy. I think both my Mother and Bosse enjoyed it, and Bosse looked like he was 10 years younger when he was bounding up the cliffs. Actually, make that 30.

On Monday, the Ledgister clan and a lot of friends of the family descended on our Jamaican reception. It was great to finally put real-live faces to all the names from the stories Vaniah have been telling me (all good, rest assured). And for Vaniah it was equally great to see the long-lost relatives and friends. It was great to be able to celebrate our marriage with all the people who could not make it over to the actual wedding. And the food was good this time as well!!

The next day we took out route-taxi rental car down to Treasure beach on the south coast where my Mother and Bosse were staying for a few nights at Jakes. But we made sure to stop by the Appleton rum factory before, since both our guests have a taste for that particular beverage. They also enjoyed the scenery along 'the less traveled roads' (that means bad bad roads in the bush through small villages and without any signs along it)!

We made it down to Jakes though, and since we like that place so much me and Vaniah had decided that we were going to stay there a night too and show them around. We installed ourselves in the two bedroom apartment and sat down on the patio and played some dominoes, drank Red Stripe and watched the sun set in the Caribbean. Just the kind of relaxing evening we needed after a few days of functions.

And now, after driving back up to Montego Bay, spending a night with the family and packing up we are in a very very quiet (deserted) Miami International Airport as the clock ticks toward midnight on new-years eve. Jamaica treated us well this time as well, its always such a treat and an experience and we're already planning the next trip back, with some friends. Any takers???

But our next stop Peru where flights 18 and 19 (if we've counted correctly) will take us to Iquitos.

Hope you all had a great Christmas and that you will have a fantastic 2010.

Christmas in the Caribbean

Christmas Day
The day started bright and early with a few chores that needed to get done. Johan got to paint the new fence while I got to go into town to pick up some bits and pieces that had been forgotten. Not many stores were open but we found a petrol station that sold ice (a necessity in Jamaica for functions) and some other things.

We had spent the last few days cleaning and baking the Christmas cake, planning the menu and divvying up the cooking tasks for the day. Today! Christmas 09....

The day was today and we were determined to ensure that Johan's mum and Bosse, who travelled from Sweden the day before, had a real Jamaican Christmas.

The menu today consisted of:

• the Christmas ham - the one thing that Jamaicans and Swedes have in common in their celebratory meal


• fricassed chicken (complements of my lovely aunt)


• smoked salmon and marinated herring - Swedish christmas food


• potato salad


• macaroni and cheese


• a green salad


• a tomato salad

After the customary stuffing ourselves silly - a custom I believe is traditional all over the world,
we indulged in another uniquely Jamain tradition - dominos.

Now, to all who haven't played this game, or have seen it but think that it is a child's game or has something to do with lining several of them in a row and then knocking them over, think again. In Jamaica, playing dominos has been elevated to an art form, and skilled players will be able to tell you what dominos you have in your hand, and what the best domino to play will be, before you even know it yourself.

Of course, we are not at this level but over a glass of sorrel and a piece of that Christmas cake, on my parents open varandah overlooking Montego Bay, we played a few hands and thought... "this has been a very good Christmas".

Merry christmas everybody!!

Laging behind on the posts again, but I am sure you alll have been sucked into this Christmas thing again, just like us. We arrived in Jamaica on Sunday and immediately got started with getting everything sorted for the festivities.

But that doesn't mean we haven't had time for adventures, and anyone who has ever felt ripped off by airlines in the past may just get a kick out of the story of how we left Houston, twice, to get to Jamaica.


The story starts on Saturday when we got up at the crack of dawn, actually dawn broke while we were driving to the airport, at 7 am to catch our 9.00 flight to Dallas, where we would change to a flight to Miami to then catch the 3rd flight of the day to Montego Bay.

We got to Dallas and were waiting for our flight when they announced that the flight was overbooked and they would need 6 people to give up thir seats, for a compensation of US$150. No takers, since a lot of people were traveling that day, there were actually another 46(!) people on standby. The offer rose to $200 and $250 and Still no takers. So we thought that if they could get us to Montego Bay some other way, we'll be happy to take them up on it, since we didnt really mind not going to Miami. They couldn't, and the offer duly went up to $300...

Thats when I had an epiphany.

Due to a miscommunication between me and my brothers they had given us two tickets to a basketball game in Houston as a wedding present... 12 hours after we left (well, I might have given them the wrong date, but never mind...). So, I asked them if they could get us back to Houston, in time for the game, and then to Jamaica on Sunday, but surely that would be a longshot.

But lo and behold -they could do it, though it took a fair while to cancel and rebook the tickets, and they had to put us in business class between Miami and Montego Bay. So we called Suzanna in Houston and told her we were on our way back, and quite happily boarded our flight.

So to summarise,

• we got American Airlines to fly us back to Houston so we could catch our basketball game
• We were upgraded to business class to Montego Bay
• And they gave us $600 for the inconvenience.

Got to love that deal!!
Once we got to Houston, we were picked up again by Neil and Suzanna, and headed back to their flat to get some dinner, play a little with young Matthew and rest a bit before the big game. Neil dropped us off and we managed to negotiate all the obstacles on the way to our seats (read the security guard that would not let me in because of my 'professional' camera) and sat down to watch the spectacle, and only half of it was played out on the court. It was almost as interesting watching the audience as the game it self, people were drinking enormous amount of beer and eating tons of corn-dogs, burgers and popcorn. And the few people who did not have a team jersey at the start of the game had one at the end. I am convinced the GDP of a small country was spent there that night, but it was a great night out.

The next morning we once again left Suzanna and Neil behind, promising we'd be back soon (but not today, we were quick to add) and now we're settling in for christmas, and we're sure you're doing the same.

So from us all to you all a very merry Christmas.

Houston we have a problem

That famous movie quote is yet another reason why we've all heard of Houston, and another reason for us to check out the local space centre for an out of this world experience. But first, we were roped into a far more important job - setting up and executing a photo shoot for the most important person in the house. Of course we're talking about young Matthew, who was kind enough to pose for us for this shot.


Johnson Space Centre...
...as it is currently called is where all the action went down 20-30 years ago and when man was still excited about going into space. Admittedly the excitement has died down somewhat since then but we wanted to rekindle a bit of that wonder about space that we had while children and relive a bit what the fuss had been all about.

It was all there, the spacesuits, the real, honest to goodness control centre from the first moon landing, the rockets...



Texas Dinner
In the evening we went for an all American Texas steakhouse for some dinner, and this came highly recommended by a colleague of Neil's. We arrived to a place with an outside seating area of picnic style long tables with a certain air about them, and quite a few people were there as well. Inside was ever more 'rustic' as Suzanna put it, it looked like a saloon but with a kitchen-bar instead of a liquid one. The beer instead was in a wooden through packed with ice. Rustic indeed.

Though the food was nice, and very Texan. You had a choice of about 15 different types of meat which would be accompanied by 2 types of vegetables, out of a selection of 5. When we got to the vegetables section there was potato salad, re fried beans, rice, coleslaw and something unidentified, and when we asked if any of the vegetables included, well, vegetables the answer was a very quick and proud,

"no ma'am!... well maybe the coleslaw, i think that has carrots in it".

Classic.

A uniquely Texan experience

Killer flights
We finally arrived in Houston at 21:05 on Tuesday night after flying for 24 hours though ironically we left Auckland at 15:40 the same day. A bit of a groundhog day experience... We were very happy to see my sister at the airport, not only because it was very noce to see them but also partly because we knew it signalled the end of 30-odd hours in planes and airports.

Drop dead gorgeous baby
Of course the reason we are in Houston is to meet our newest nephew and my sisters first child, the beautiful Matthew Alexander who was born two weeks ago. So far he has been asleep most of the time that we have seen him as he hasn't quite understood yet that night is for sleeping and not day... Good thing the walls are thick in their apartment, and in some situations jetlag is quite useful! We woke up the next day after an 11-hour sleep during which we had not heard anything of Matthews alleged crying stints throughout the night.

Texas shoot em up!
Maybe it was the jet lag, or maybe we ate a strange mushroom on the plane on the way over but we thought it would be a good idea to have a truly Texan cultural experience while we were here. Going to a shooting alley.

Just to make sure it would be ok, I called them up before we went over and asked if we needed a license. The answer was no, they just needed to know that we had some experience with a handgun and if not they have a short class we could take and then it would be fine.

The place was scary! The sign on the front door let us know that they were a glock dealership and when we walked in, there were small hand guns on display in glass cabinets for you to hire and the bigger guns for purchase where on the back wall in full view. We nearly changed our mind and turned around and left when the guy at the till said (in an American accent) "Hi, can I help you". We signed up for the class, choose our gun (a glock) and waited around for our teacher.'

Shortly afterwards, this big, muscular, military looking guy turned up and led us to a classroom. He asked us some questions like "why were we taking this class?" and "how much experience did we have?" and "had we ever loaded a magazine before?". I honestly don't think that he understood that I had never shot a gun or even touched a bullet before. I tried to explain that it was illegal in the UK and that not even the police carry guns there and he definitely thought I was pulling his leg.

So we went through the basics - this is a gun, here is the safety, this is how you load the bullets (I discovered that there were actually 15 and not 6 bullets in the magazine) and this is how you aim. Then we headed to the range to shoot.

If the entrance was scary this was even more so. We passed normal looking people calmly practicing their shooting and stepped over spent shells on our way to our boothe. Our instructer was very calm and professional though which calmed my nerves a bit and after Johan showed off with his brilliant and accurate shooting, it was my turn to step up and have a go.

I guess that you never really appreciate a situation until afterwards. The first shot was rather scary and then the instructor reminded me of how to stand, aim and press the trigger and that was it. I didn't do nearly as well as Johan but I wasn't too bad either. It wasn't until afterwards when my heart stopped racing that the magnitude of it all hit me. I now know how to shoot a handgun, followed very swiftly by, what a scary place the US is! This act that in many developed countries in the world is extreemly difficult or illegal to do, is commonplace and even normal in some places in the US. Definately a defining cultural experience.

Rotorua stinks

No, seriously, if you're in the wrong area of Rotorua you will be ever accompanied by a distinct odor of sulfur (similar to very rotten eggs), but that is also the main reason why people come here. The odour comes from the sulfur-heavy thermal pools which is a result of the heavy volcanic activity in the region, and these have kept people coming here for centuries for medical purposes.


But it really does stink...

On the upside though there are tons of things to do, and not only soaking in a pool for medicinal purposes. This is a watersport and adventure crazy town, so you are likely to actually need those pools, and on top of that we arrived at one of the most memorable times in this towns history!! Saturday was the day that the entire town went all out with carnivals, air-shows and the works to welcome the inaugural trans-Tasman flight. That's right, the first international flight arrived in Rotorua, and it was to be celebrated with a bang, so of course we braved the slight drizzle to make it down the lakeside to watch the spectacle. Only to find out that the planes had not, a bit of a party dampener.

So instead we retreated inside to take shelter form the rain and watched movies all day since this is very much an outdoors kind of place and when it rains there was not much to do at all.

With energy gathered for Sunday we set out to see the must see things, even though the weather looked a little worrying - more of the same light drizzle.
First we headed out to see some lovely lakes that are popular with the local population and it seemed they were out in force as the weather was clearing up a bit.
Our main target of the day though was the Wai-o-tapu 'Thermal wonderland', where there is a huge amount of pools of varying color and composition, caves and lakes. The biggest one, the champagne pool - aptly named so because of its bubbles (from boiling not carbonation) is a rainbow of colour if you can see it through the sulfur smoke. They all stink but it was quite amazing to see.

After we'd been breathing sulphur and arsenic fumes for over an hour we decided to retreat to the hot pools spa across the road (well, 6km across the road) where they guaranteed hot mineral rich water without the smells. And they delivered.. Through an impressive set of waterfalls, squirters and pools they cooled the thermal spring waters down from 98 degrees to a mere 42 (-ish) in the hottest pool. It was quite amazing to sit in a pool of quite pleasant temperature, while being next to the boiling hot spring that feeds it with water. Thinking about it, it is quite amazing to see a bubbling, boiling stream in the first place and just thinking how hot it must be just a few feet under our feet, let alone bathe in the water. But it must be good for you though!

Exactly what we needed to prepare us for our mammoth flight to Houston tomorrow, but first we have to figure out what to do today.

Goodbye South Island

We're falling behind with our post writing and once you start, it's hard to catch up so I'll summarise what we've been up to in the week since you last heard from us at Lake Matheson, just along from the Fox Glacier.

Franz Joseph glacier
The next day, Saturday, we woke up to bright sunny skies and anticipation of the day that we had planned ahead of us. We were going to spend the day trekking on the Franz Joseph glacier!Apparently named after the beard of an Austrian emperor some time ago, this is one of only three glaciers in the world which end in a rain forest (one of the others is Fox which we saw yesterday). Our day started at 09:15 when we received our various vouchers for our shoes, jacket, hats and gloves for the day. After getting kitted out we jumped into an old Chinese manufactured bus and headed to the start of our walk to the glacier.

Franz Joseph is a bit more of a distance away to walk than Fox but we trudged on through the rainforest and then through the river bed until we reached the familiar yellow rope fence covered with warnings of a dire fate should we decide to cross. After a little chat, our guide helped us to climb over the fence and rounding a corner we stopped again to put on our crampons. Now crampons are neat spikes which are attached to your boots which make it very difficult to walk on normal terrain but are fantastic when walking on ice. Which was good, because for the next 5-6 hours, the ice became our best friend.

The climb up the many steps cut out of the side of the glacier ("steps are my friend") were sometimes steep, sometimes slippery and sometime treacherous but in the end the sense of achievement when we reached our turning point and the beauty of the age old ice was worth every minute. Our encounters with the local Kea's were just the icing on the cake. Not even the slight rain after our picnic lunch, which was served on the nice cold ice, could dampen our moods.

Pancake rocks
Sunday, after failing to find a church open (the local Anglican services operate bi-weekly, ie. next week) we noted the rubbish weather and decided to press straight on to our next stop in Nelson. The only major stop was made at the notable pancake rocks, an unexplained but beautiful geological phenomenal.

Abel Tasman
Admittedly we could have done our homework a bit better as we discovered once we'd reached that Nelson was still some way from Abel Tasman national park which was the next place that we wanted to spend some time. Still, we had booked a room in a local hostel complete with swimming pool and hot tub which we decided wasn't so bad and exhausted from the full day's driving we collapsed into bed.

The next morning we woke up and slowly made our way to Abel Tasman, stopping to pick up some delicious, locally grown cherries from a stall by the side of the road. We got to Motueka, the entrance to the park, just before noon which was a little late to catch the water taxi to do the half day walk that we'd planned. No problem, we weren't too late to rent a double sea kayak and paddle our way to the famous New Zealand icon, split apple rock.

Unfortunately the sea just wasn't playing ball that day and after half an hour of hard graft in the choppy seas, we managed to make it just a quarter of the way there. Disappointed and tired we pulled into a lovely little beach for a rest and to take stock of what we wanted to achieve. We agreed that though we were both quite tired from the last couple of days and wanted to get a bit of rest, we also wanted to see the NZ iconic rock. The guidebook provided and alternative, land-based, route to the rock so after braving the rough seas again to return the kayak we drove over the hills and took the short 15 min trek down to the bay to finally get a glimpse of the rock.

Nelson wasn't all wasted though, we did discover a lovely micro-brewery operating a few minutes walk from our hostel where you could buy some of their beer in unmarked two litre bottles which you can bring back for refills. Visions of bootlegging cross your mind when the bartender quietly hands you the bottle around the side of the bar so you quickly stuff it into your knapsack and walk off at a quick pace, hoping that no-one is following you...

Renwick
Pronounced Renwick by the locals, this lovely little village was only a couple of hours away from Nelson and our only destination the following day. We checked into the loveliest hostel so far where we decided to treat ourselves to an en suite double room and relaxed for the rest of the day in the twin hammock hanging up in the garden.

Renwick is also in the middle of the Marlborough wine country and so the next morning we procured a couple of bicycles, a map of the region and headed out to sample the regions wares. Now I've never been one for white wine but as that was the predominant offering I decided to try to figure out which white wines I actually liked.

My favourite cellar doors were:
Te Whare Ra - great blend called Toru
Villa Maria - best Sauvignon Blanc
River Falls (will need to check the name) - best Pinot Noir

and Johan discovered that he quite liked the wines with the German sounding grape - Gewurztraminer, and also the local micro brewery that tapped various interesting beer on actual glass bottles with a cap. Which means we will not have to explain to customs officials what kind of liquid are in the plastic 2-litre bottles. That is bound to make the entry into the U.S, much less eventful.

For dinner we stopped by a local butcher and picked up some lamb chops and some BBQ sauce and slapped them on the bar-b-que back at the hostel and chatted with the other travellers while drinking some micro brewery beer. A very lovely day.

Goodbye South Island
So now, Thursday, I'm writing this while swaying from side to side on the ferry carrying us and our car and a few hundred other passengers from the South Island at Picton to the warmer North Island at Wellington.

The South Island has been undescribably beautiful at times but to balance that the weather has been really rubbish on some days and the roads a little more windey than my stomach would like. Some of the experiences that we've had like the climb up Franz Joseph and the reflection of Mt Cook in a calm Lake Matheson will stand out for the rest of our lives while some, like the sandflies at Milford Sounds and bedbugs in Nelson, we will be happy to forget as soon as the itching stops.

As for me, I am now looking forward to taking a few days rest in Rotorua before we embark on our epic journey to Houston next week.