Barcelona - LaTemplo Expladori de la Sagrada Familia

La Templo Expadori de la Sagrada Familia is one of the must-see's of Barcelona. Its great towers puncture the cities skyline and have been referred to "celestial billiard cue's" or "perforated cigars" and its weird modernist facade is the symbol of Barcelona and is known the world over. No visit to the city is complete without viewing Gaudi's masterpiece and no one person interprets it the same. I combined a visit here with a wander in the Museu de Catalunya, which along with the Sagrada Familia, is a source of Catalan pride.

The Templo has its own metro station on the yellow line and getting there won't cost you any more then 150 pesetas, or you can walk there from anywhere in the Eixample and take in Gaudi's other creations such as Casa Mila and the Parc Guell. The templo is the creation of one man, Antoni Gaudi, who started his lifes work in 1890. He lived on site until his death in 1926 and each successive generations leaving their mark on this unique building. When you leave the subway station the western facade of the Templo immediately comes into sight. Try and cross the road to the small plaza directly opposite as there is a better view of the coffee-brown towers reaching into the sky. Each tower is topped with a jewel-like star and its stark modernist profile is topped with surreal carvings and angles. Was there a touch of madness in the make-up of Gaudi to create such a building?

The best advice I can give you once you have paid your 500 pesetas is to head for the elevators. If you don't, you will go through the interior of the Templo very quickly and before you know it you will have finished. You will have to join another queue but once you reach the top there are fantastic views of Barcelona reaching down to the sparkling mediterrean. Once back down, the interior of the catedral is very disappointing. Sunlight will illuminate a vast dusty construction site where only sections of the completed modernist ceiling can be seen.

What you forget is that cathedrals take hundreds of years to build (York Minster took 150)and what we are seeing now is part of the process, best to come back in 2026 and see it when it is completed. To get the most of out of a visit have a look at the museu (museum). Here are Gaudis original sketches, models of the finished version (with towers in the centre as well, making it look like a porcupine)and a workshop where stonemasons worked upon detailed carvings.

After a lunch of sangria and paella I checked out the recommended Museu Catalunya. Situated on the Moll D'Espanya this is housed in an old warehouse and is a good museum telling the story of a country within a country. Nationalism makes me nervous, but this was a intelligent museum, and if the Catalans had a talent for picking the wrong side during their history - it certainly showed here. This was a museum made by Catalans for Catalans and there was very little in Castilean, let alone English. But they will give you a guidebook in your native language and allow you to explore the high-tech exhibits.

First, the Romans built Barcelona then it became part of the Caliphate of Cordoba only freed after the reconquisita. You were allowed to explore Moorish and Medieval Spain on CD-Rom's and audio-visual exhibits. It was only an independent country for a 100 years before being swallowed up by Ferdinand and Isabella. But as history progressed its talent for picking the wrong side showed. In the war of Spanish succession it had the choice of a weak Spanish monarch or a strong French one - it chose the weak Spanish one and had the bejesus cannoned out of it by the winning French Bourbons. In the Spanish civil war it had the choice of a weak republican army or a strong nationalist one - you can guess which one it picked. Franco’s retaliation was particularly severe on Barcelona and thousands headed for the French border.

I would recommend this museum to anyone who wants to get at the bones of Barcelona. Food for the mind, and a good interlude before you hit the nightspots of this extraordinary city later on...

Bangkok - Different reactions from different people.

In Kathmandu it's Thamel, in Delhi it is Paharganj, in Hong Kong it is Chungking Mansions, Singapore - Bencoolen Street, and in Bangkok it is the Khao San Road. Backpacker ghetto's! And the Khao San is the most famous and popular of them all.

One morning after arriving on the bus from Phuket I got to see it at 5.30am before the crowds arrive. It is almost eerie in it's silence. Abolutely no movement from end to end. As I watched the Khao San came slowly to life. Hoardings were raised, stalls were wheeled out and weary backpackers trudged along the road looking for lodging. After a while the first tuk-tuks took up their places, the first wok's were being lit and the first beers of a new day were being drunk.

You will either love the Khao San Road or hate it. This is usually the first port of call to young international backpackers as soon as they arrive at Bangkok airport. To some it is an easy introduction to the culture shock of Southeast Asia to others a westernised bubble that excludes the Thailand that they have travelled so far to see. There are now 110 guesthouses on the Khao San and the surrounding streets. It is now estaimated that over 500,000 backpackers trudge through each year and the entire street caters to their every whim. You can sleep in 80 baht a night hotels, get your hair braided, arrange for a visa to Laos, buy fake rolex watches and drink yourself into oblivion in the many bars. It is little wonder that for many people visiting Bangkok all they see is the Khao San Road.

It is situated in the northwest of the city, just north of the Grand Palace and Banglamphu. A few streets to the west is the Chao Phraya river and the nearest river stop is Phra Athit. It is also just south of the Royal Chitlada palaces and half a mile west of the shopping heaven of the Sukhamvit Road. In short, it is in the very centre of things. It is however, exceptionally difficult from there to get to other parts of Bangkok. Although the Grand Palace is within (polluted?) walking distance, Khao San is nowhere near the city bus terminal's and horribly distant from the bran-new skytrain. Even Huamlampong station is about a mile and a half away through horrendous traffic. Therefore you will have to rely on air-conditioned taxi's or tuk-tuk's to get around. These congregate at either end of the road and charge about 40 baht to whizz you around Bangkok. It is possible to get to Banglamphu from Don Muang airport taking the A2 bus which drops off opposite the Wat on the Tanao Road. This costs about 60 bahts.

But Khao San's primarily function is to provide cheap accomodation to the trillions of backpackers who pass through. The hotels have now exploded out of the Khao San and to the east and west. In fact the best cheap hotels such as the Apple, Apple 2, Merry V and New Siam are not on the Khao San but in some of the soi's to the west such as Songhran and Phra Athit. The guesthouses on the Khao San often double as restaurants/travel agents and cost about 100 baht a night for a room. Be warned the Khao San can get very noisy at night and you room for that price will not provide much relief from the noise. Most walls are paper thin and those facing the road itself have to contend with speeding tuk-tuks and the carousing which goes on there late at night. Incidently, take your own padlock as theft is common. And if things go wrong there is a tourist police station at the junction of Khao San and Changrabonse Road.

It was this police station, of course, which was featured in the Leonardo DiCaprio film 'The Beach' . As was the travel agent seen in the same film. There are about twenty travel agents along the Khao San - some reputable, some fly-by-night who may take your money and run. Most sell bus and train tickets as well as more exotic arrangements such as visas and tickets to Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. They are most useful for providing cheap private buses to the airport and other destintions. My bus to Katchanaburi was half the price of the public bus. The best ones such as Khiri Travel also provide luggage storage for 10 bahts a day which is useful if you have left the guesthouse and are waiting to catch your flight.

But the Khao San is there to serve the visiting backpacker. It is lined with currency changers, internet cafe's, used bookshops selling 'Lonely Planets', fake-ID shops, tatoo artists, hippy gear shops, BOOTS chemists, 7-11's and tour agencies. The best cyber-cafe is 'Hello Internet cafe' with 100 bahts per hour and once you have finished there you can admire the cheap sarong's on the roadside stalls or pick up a pair of 'thongs' while waiting to have your hair braided or your hands hennered. There are cars parked along the Khao San and the pavements get so busy that people are forced to walk in the road. They share the road with food-stalls and Thai's selling satay on skewers or corn-on-the cob. Rock music throbs from bars while people clutching beers spill out onto the street.

Due to the sheer volume of people passing through you will bump into that couple you met in Chiang Mai or the Israeli who was on the same diving course as you on Ko Samui. I bumped into a Swedish friend, Yuri, who I know here in London while eating breakfast at the Nat Guesthouse. In fact the cheap eating is Khao San's main-drawcard - streetfood is cheap and inexpensive. While restaurants like Prouberts and May Kiardee cater for those who don't want to spend more then 100 baht on food. Each restaurant sells exactly the same Thai food as well as western specialities such as German pastries, English breakfasts, American hamburgers, Israeli falafel and the travellers staples of museli and banana pancakes.

And of course the backpackers have to be entertained. Single travellers too shy to chat to their neighbours watch videos in the bars and restaurants. There are two bars which think they are in Santa Monica or Bondi Beach rather then Southeast Asia - 'Buddy' and 'Gullivers'. There is a club off Khao San called 'The Bangkok bar' where the backpackers have squeezed the Thai students who used to use it out. The bars are open almost 20 hours a day and will be filled with tipsy backpackers saying they have seen the real Thailand as they travel on the well-worn route of between Chiang Mai and Ko Samui/Phangan. Also, where there are westerners - there are also prostitutes. One morning as I was waiting for my pick-up for a bus a Thai girl approached an American backpacker in my restaurant. She had obviously had slim pickings that night and sat down next to him and slowly but surely seduced him. First she befriended him, then complimented him and then led him off after an hour of wearing him down to do the business.

The Khao San provokes different reactions from different people. Personally, I found it very unfriendly. There is alot of attitude and the sheer volume of people makes it a very impersonal place. One of my neighbours has just returned from a year in Thailand and I asked him what do the Thai's think of Khao San. He says they keep it at arms length and think it is full of smelly stingy foreigners.I think it is true, the only Thai's you will meet are travel agents or tuk-tuk drivers, but if you go five minutes to the north or east you will find an area solely inhabited by Thais. The battered pavement will be littered with vegetable stalls, mangy dogs, people selling iced water, cobblers, motorbikes and people stirring woks with the smell of cashews and chestnuts wafting in the hot air.

Lonely Planet, the travellers bible, looks down it's nose at package tourists but it has created a ghetto just as insular as those it denigrates. I've heard the Khao San is on the domestic tourist trail - Thai visitors to Bangkok are bused in to to gawp at and photograph the dreadlocked foreigners and 'smelly hippies'.

Isn't that the ultimate irony?

Athens - Do you know your Zeus from your Kronos? Your Perseus from your Odysseus?

Just how good is your Greek mythology?

Do you know your Zeus from your Kronos? Do you know your Hera from your Thetis? Your Perseus from your Odysseus?

It helps to have some background knowledge when visiting the Athens Archaeological Museum. One marble bust begins to resemble another marble bust unless you recognise the name on the label. You enjoyment is a little more if you know how each god connects with the other. The Olympian family tree if you like? But there aren't just busts and statues of the Greek gods at the museum but also the Roman Emperors and the classical worlds ideal of beauty - Olympian athletes.

The museum stands on 28 Octovriou, a boulevard that heads north from Omonia Square and is about a ten minute walk from Larissa railway station. It certainly looks an impressive museum from outside. Extensive grounds dotted with planes and oak trees lead up to the marble portico. The whole building is made out of red stone and stretches for 500m in either direction. The museum costs 7 euros and although you don't need to be an Oxford classics scholar to get the most out of the collection - any knowledge you do have adds to your enjoyment. And it is a museum of the old school - echoing marble corridors, arched ceilings, and rows and rows of glass cases.

But yikes! What a hoard!

There are 10,000 years of history on display in this building. You almost don't know where to start. I suggest turning right as you enter and the start of the Mycenean galleries. The Myceneans were great Olympian worshippers and there were busts of Hera, Thetis and Athena dating from 335BC. Followed by a number of Kouros (basic torso statues of athletic men) dug from sites near Cape Sounion. Athletic youths were a constant theme and most showed off their prowess in Olympic poses.

Further on there was a fantastic bronze horse statue dug up in one piece. It stood six feet high and had a bronze cherub hanging on to its flowing mane. The goddess Aphrodite got a section all to herself and there were many statues taken from her temple at Daphne. Hercules was another favourite generally portrayed as a grizzled individual wrapped in a lionskin. Many statues came from the abandoned cemetery of Karameikos. One of my favourite gods was next - Pan! The goateed one was portrayed on the stele as gamboling with nymphs, satyrs and dryads. It was meant to look like gamboling - it looked more like sexual harassment to me..

Nearby was a section on what Rome had pilfered from Greece and remains of when Greece became the Roman province of Achaeon. A long line of Emporers busts including Caligula, Tiberius and Hadrian. By now you needed a breathe of fresh air and many of the biggest statues were in the middle courtyard. Most of them were very rusty as they had spent thousands of years on the Aegean seabed as the result of shipwrecks. One had to use ones imagination to envisage Athena with a trident or Zeus with a lightning bolt.

All in all, a world-class museum. And a complimentary match with your excursion to the Acropolis. And if you are a history/mythology buff you will be in seventh heaven

Arusha - a quick recovery from the depredations of the Bush

Game viewing in the big reserves is fantastic but sometimes the facilities can be a little crude. A shave in freezing cold water trickling out of basic plumbing isn’t always the most appealing of prospects. So at the end of my safari I had six days of beard attached to my face. Notwithstanding curious butch pride at growing such a tickly mane – it had to come off. That was my main priority at the Arusha Crown. To their credit they didn’t bat an eyelid at me who resembled the "Wild Man of Wongo" when I walked up to their front desk. Probably an everyday occurrence at the Arusha Crown.

It is an excellent hotel. It’s not situated in the outskirts but smack in the living working centre. This absence of other hotels around it gives it an African feel. It does stand out from the buildings around it being a bright pink pastel colour. Excellent bellboys take your luggage up to four floors of rooms. It costs about $70 a night for a single and be warned the credit card machine takes a few hours to warm up but does work eventually.

Security is excellent with electronic locks. Each of the rooms has large picture windows and is spacious. As well as double bed, clean bathroom, room service, table and writing desk. My room was on the fourth floor and had panoramic views of the sports stadium far below. I was able to watch them kick around a football while getting ready in the morning.

It is in the heart of town and is subsequently surrounded by African restaurants. If you are not brave enough to try Ugali or yam fritters then the in-house restaurant is actually award winning and one of the best in Tanzania. For about 1300 Tanzanian Schillings you can have international dishes such as Rogan josh, grilled kudu meat, Shanghai chicken and Spaghetti Bolognese. These are actually cooked very well and businessmen from miles around come to impress clients. 

There are also the usual weary safari tourists grateful not to eat their food to the sound of lions roaring.If you want a safe secure hotel with a good restaurant then the Arusha Crown should definitely be on your list.

Alice Springs - Erlunda Roadhouse, and The Luritja Highway

The dromedary camel stood in the middle of the red sand track and wouldn't let us pass. It was only 20 feet in front of us and the track was too narrow to drive around the grazing creature. The four-wheel-drive growled nearby until the camel, spooked, headed off into the bush in a lumbering comical gait. There it blended in with the red earth, gum trees and spinifex.

One of the highlights of the trip to Australia is the four wheel tour to Ayers Rock/The Olgas. This was spread over three days involving sleeping in the open for 2 nights and many, many hours travelling over bumpy desert roads. And of course the advantage of the four-wheel-drive is that you can get off the tarmack onto remote tracks. These petrol guzzling vehicles really do visit the inaccessible corners and you have a better chance of spotting wildlife from the bumpy trail. These are not for everyone, you spend a lot of time travelling. You get used to the bumping after a while. Your backside gets use to moving up and down of its own accord. But the rewards and sense of adventure you get are indescribable.

Our route was very impressive. Imagine the routes spreading out from Alice Springs as a giant rectangle hundreds of miles across. In the top right hand corner is "the Alice" itself, heading south on a tarmacked road is the roadhouse of Erldunda - which makes up the southeast corner of the rectangle. The real attraction of Ayers Rock/The Olgas is in the southwest corner along the Lassetter highway, and Kings Canyon is in the northwest. A shortcut of a hundred miles is possible to Kings Canyon/Watarrka on the sandy track of the Luritja road. And to get back to Alice is another 200 miles along a newly carved sand track of the Ernest Giles Road. This is pretty tough terrain and our driver, Carolyn, could often be spotted wrestling with the steering wheel as if she was battling with a ships wheel at sea. But all the time she kept us on track and on schedule whilst pointing out the natural wonders of this part of the Northern Territory.

Erldunda Roadhouse

The first stop on the first day was the Erldunda roadhouse smack in the middle of aboriginal territory. It is almost 200 miles south of Alice where the Stuart Highway turns west into the Lassetter Highway. It was a corrugated iron-roofed building, surrounded by sand and many road stops have captive animals to entrance the tourists. This one had a huge paper mache echidna and frilled lizard kept behind wire netting. But it was mainly a place for travellers to replenish water supplies, eat, and relieve themselves in the toilets helpfully labelled "blokes" and "sheilas." There are also beds for $50 a night.

But as you move around you realise that this seems to be a transit point for those arriving/leaving for the aboriginal lands. Behind the cafeteria was a gallery showcasing aboriginal art. About 20 pictures lined one wall showing the artist and what tribe they belonged too. I was stunned on the sheer amount of aboriginal tribes - almost like a continent made of many nations. For sale were authentic didgeridoos, boomerangs and paintings on canvas. I bought one for $20 which showed a "snake god" and the woman who served me took the time to explain to me the legend behind it. 

Curtain Springs Roadhouse

Blink and you will drive past Curtain Springs. It stands on a slight buff cliff overlooking the immensity of the Outback east of Yulara. The flat terrain is broken by Mount Connor which is like a miniature Uluru in its own national park and is often mistaken by overeager tourists for the monolith itself. Curtain Springs lies on the Lassetter Highway about 80 miles east of Ayers Rock, the dirt track of the Luritja Highway stretches north from here. This track cuts 4 hours off the route from Uluru to Kings Canyon but can only be traversed by 4 wheel drive vehicles.

Overlooking the highway is a sandy buff which is a good photo opportunity for Mount Connor and about fifty miles to the northwest is Lake Amadeus. This is a massive salt lake in the middle of the territory covered by light salty crust. It made its name in Australian history as early pioneers trying to cross would lose their horses to the soft mud underneath once the crust cracked under their weight.

Hazards of a different kind were at the roadhouse. Most of it is built on stilts overlooking the buff allowing the building of a "drop toilet." The only other place that these exists is sub-Saharan Africa and you need a strong stomach. Instead of chemicals to destroy the waste they have maggots. And woe betide anyone who looks straight down into the "drop." Ten feet below was a pile of refuse literally blue with crawling things.

The dromedary camel stood in the middle of the red sand track and wouldn't let us pass. It was only 20 feet in front of us and the track was too narrow to drive around the grazing creature. The four-wheel-drive growled nearby until the camel, spooked, headed off into the bush in a lumbering comical gait. There it blended in with the red earth, gum trees and spinifex.

One of the highlights of the trip to Australia is the four wheel tour to Ayers Rock/The Olgas. This was spread over three days involving sleeping in the open for 2 nights and many, many hours travelling over bumpy desert roads. And of course the advantage of the four-wheel-drive is that you can get off the tarmack onto remote tracks. These petrol guzzling vehicles really do visit the inaccessible corners and you have a better chance of spotting wildlife from the bumpy trail. These are not for everyone, you spend a lot of time travelling. You get used to the bumping after a while. Your backside gets use to moving up and down of its own accord. But the rewards and sense of adventure you get are indescribable.

Our route was very impressive. Imagine the routes spreading out from Alice Springs as a giant rectangle hundreds of miles across. In the top right hand corner is "the Alice" itself, heading south on a tarmacked road is the roadhouse of Erldunda - which makes up the southeast corner of the rectangle. The real attraction of Ayers Rock/The Olgas is in the southwest corner along the Lassetter highway, and Kings Canyon is in the northwest. A shortcut of a hundred miles is possible to Kings Canyon/Watarrka on the sandy track of the Luritja road. And to get back to Alice is another 200 miles along a newly carved sand track of the Ernest Giles Road. This is pretty tough terrain and our driver, Carolyn, could often be spotted wrestling with the steering wheel as if she was battling with a ships wheel at sea. But all the time she kept us on track and on schedule whilst pointing out the natural wonders of this part of the Northern Territory.

Erldunda Roadhouse

The first stop on the first day was the Erldunda roadhouse smack in the middle of aboriginal territory. It is almost 200 miles south of Alice where the Stuart Highway turns west into the Lassetter Highway. It was a corrugated iron-roofed building, surrounded by sand and many road stops have captive animals to entrance the tourists. This one had a huge paper mache echidna and frilled lizard kept behind wire netting. But it was mainly a place for travellers to replenish water supplies, eat, and relieve themselves in the toilets helpfully labelled "blokes" and "sheilas." There are also beds for $50 a night.

But as you move around you realise that this seems to be a transit point for those arriving/leaving for the aboriginal lands. Behind the cafeteria was a gallery showcasing aboriginal art. About 20 pictures lined one wall showing the artist and what tribe they belonged too. I was stunned on the sheer amount of aboriginal tribes - almost like a continent made of many nations. For sale were authentic didgeridoos, boomerangs and paintings on canvas. I bought one for $20 which showed a "snake god" and the woman who served me took the time to explain to me the legend behind it. 

Curtain Springs Roadhouse

Blink and you will drive past Curtain Springs. It stands on a slight buff cliff overlooking the immensity of the Outback east of Yulara. The flat terrain is broken by Mount Connor which is like a miniature Uluru in its own national park and is often mistaken by overeager tourists for the monolith itself. Curtain Springs lies on the Lassetter Highway about 80 miles east of Ayers Rock, the dirt track of the Luritja Highway stretches north from here. This track cuts 4 hours off the route from Uluru to Kings Canyon but can only be traversed by 4 wheel drive vehicles.

Overlooking the highway is a sandy buff which is a good photo opportunity for Mount Connor and about fifty miles to the northwest is Lake Amadeus. This is a massive salt lake in the middle of the territory covered by light salty crust. It made its name in Australian history as early pioneers trying to cross would lose their horses to the soft mud underneath once the crust cracked under their weight.

Hazards of a different kind were at the roadhouse. Most of it is built on stilts overlooking the buff allowing the building of a "drop toilet." The only other place that these exists is sub-Saharan Africa and you need a strong stomach. Instead of chemicals to destroy the waste they have maggots. And woe betide anyone who looks straight down into the "drop." Ten feet below was a pile of refuse literally blue with crawling things.

The Luritja Highway

Directly north from Curtain Springs is the remote Luritja Highway. This is simply a dirt track that bumps and rolls through the spinifex to the Ernest Giles road near Kings Canyon and can only be traversed by four-wheel-drive vehicles. The advantage of this is that while you can spot goannas and hawks from the tarmacked major highways from the dirt track you can get up really close to the big game of the Australian Outback - the red kangaroos, the emus and herds of feral camels.

I'll not deny the going is tough. First consideration is the heat—it was the Australian early spring but the temperature inside the four-wheel-drive reached 35ºC. You were constantly drinking water. Emus were the first animal we saw but they were far in the distance. The muscular shape of a red kangaroo was spotted bounding away through the bush but after an hour we turned a corner and there were a family of dromedary camels blocking the track. 

They moved off but a few minutes later we encountered an even bigger herd of twenty individuals including very cute white furred baby. I was stunned by the size of the dominant male, he must have been 12 feet high at the shoulder and spent his time herding the females together. We followed them for 20 minutes until they reached a drinking hole where we went off track to get as close as possible. I couldn't believe the size they had grown to in the Outback. They were introduced by Afghan stevedores in the 19th century, as they found they were ideally suited to the harsh climate.

The Ernest Giles Highway

I let out a sigh of relief when we left the Luritja and clambered back onto the tarmack on the way to Kings Canyon. When we left it on day 3 we had another option. To get back to Alice we could either drive back the way we came via Curtain Springs and Erldunda or cut across country on a newly made track (it was so new they were still smoothing it) which cuts 4 hours off the journey and takes us 50 miles from Alice.

The Ernest Giles track starts 100 miles east of Kings Canyon. Ernest Giles was a 19th-century explorer who was famous for losing his horses due to dehydration. The first 50 miles of this track is smooth so our four-wheel-drive could get up a bit of speed. But soon that ended and we were back to bumpy sand track. At one point we saw dog tracks in the sand and discovered a mother and pup trotting down the track. With pointy ears and showing no fear we slowed the four wheel drive down beside them. Whether they were wild or belonged to a nearby aborigine tribe I don't know. But they pulled at my heartstrings, I hated the thought of them fending for themselves in the "never never"

We stopped for a rest on a dry riverbed. This river was bone dry, wide and covered in yellow sand. We enjoyed the solitude and sense of space - until the flies found us. We must have been the only moisture for miles around and they buzzed around my eyes and mouth. We also noticed the remains of a fire and used tinnies strewn around. Aborigines had obviously used the riverbed as a camp recently - our driver said for a people who go on so much about respecting the land, they don't always do it themselves.

The Luritja Highway

Directly north from Curtain Springs is the remote Luritja Highway. This is simply a dirt track that bumps and rolls through the spinifex to the Ernest Giles road near Kings Canyon and can only be traversed by four-wheel-drive vehicles. The advantage of this is that while you can spot goannas and hawks from the tarmacked major highways from the dirt track you can get up really close to the big game of the Australian Outback - the red kangaroos, the emus and herds of feral camels.

I'll not deny the going is tough. First consideration is the heat—it was the Australian early spring but the temperature inside the four-wheel-drive reached 35ºC. You were constantly drinking water. Emus were the first animal we saw but they were far in the distance. The muscular shape of a red kangaroo was spotted bounding away through the bush but after an hour we turned a corner and there were a family of dromedary camels blocking the track. 

They moved off but a few minutes later we encountered an even bigger herd of twenty individuals including very cute white furred baby. I was stunned by the size of the dominant male, he must have been 12 feet high at the shoulder and spent his time herding the females together. We followed them for 20 minutes until they reached a drinking hole where we went off track to get as close as possible. I couldn't believe the size they had grown to in the Outback. They were introduced by Afghan stevedores in the 19th century, as they found they were ideally suited to the harsh climate.

The Ernest Giles Highway

I let out a sigh of relief when we left the Luritja and clambered back onto the tarmack on the way to Kings Canyon. When we left it on day 3 we had another option. To get back to Alice we could either drive back the way we came via Curtain Springs and Erldunda or cut across country on a newly made track (it was so new they were still smoothing it) which cuts 4 hours off the journey and takes us 50 miles from Alice.

The Ernest Giles track starts 100 miles east of Kings Canyon. Ernest Giles was a 19th-century explorer who was famous for losing his horses due to dehydration. The first 50 miles of this track is smooth so our four-wheel-drive could get up a bit of speed. But soon that ended and we were back to bumpy sand track. At one point we saw dog tracks in the sand and discovered a mother and pup trotting down the track. With pointy ears and showing no fear we slowed the four wheel drive down beside them. Whether they were wild or belonged to a nearby aborigine tribe I don't know. But they pulled at my heartstrings, I hated the thought of them fending for themselves in the "never never"

We stopped for a rest on a dry riverbed. This river was bone dry, wide and covered in yellow sand. We enjoyed the solitude and sense of space - until the flies found us. We must have been the only moisture for miles around and they buzzed around my eyes and mouth. We also noticed the remains of a fire and used tinnies strewn around. Aborigines had obviously used the riverbed as a camp recently - our driver said for a people who go on so much about respecting the land, they don't always do it themselves.

Agra - After the exertions in seeing the Taj

On visiting India, for once in my life I could afford four-star accommodation.

 We picked the exquisite Amar Yatri Niwas while we were in Agra. This cool air-conditioned hotel was a real tonic after viewing the Fort and the Taj Mahal and a welcome retreat from the chaos of Agra outside.

Not used to such luxury we were caught out as bell-boys took our backpacks up to our rooms and the staff were so kind and courteous. The rooms themselves were marvellous with television, shower, killer-air conditioning and room service. The restaurant was enjoyable and the lobby inlaid with marble. There was a fine portrait of Shah Jahan gazing wistfully at the Taj Mahal on the wall.

But outside was the chaos of Agra.

 Our road had most of the tourist luxury hotels - next door was a Pizza Hut – which had to be checked out. The predations of the rickshaw drivers were just as persistent here and they prowl up and down the road looking for followers. We took one up on an evening trip to Taj Ganj where we wanted to take a look at the backpacker scene there. How very different, the streets were very narrow and crammed with hotels. But the street-hassle was intense - people trying to sell us carpets, drugs, tickets, postcards.  Autorickshaw drivers began following us up onto the pavement eager to get the fare. It was the most intense we experienced since leaving Connaught Place in Delhi.

But as with most of India you weather it or go mad.

And we found a terrific hotel with a rooftop restaurant giving us amazing views of the Taj Mahal. Night had fallen and the great dome and minarets were illuminated. And we could sit down with a biryani and lassi and watch the great building in the moonlight.

Shanghai - Changing money in the People's republic of China

For all its high-tech, Western-looking image Shanghai is Chinese from its head to its toes.

Walking the streets of the old Chinese town is such an evocative experience. Its the smells which hit you first - the hot humid smell of dumpling early in the morning. Young men park their bicycles and collect them in wicker pots to eat later. The commuter traffic of bicycles is quite a sight. They congregate at zebra crossings and ring their bells furiously if anyone gets in their way.When they go into their offices their bicycles are chained together like a herd of animals. And in this country of barely any crime they seem content with simple security. And of course there are the grimy bicycle repairmen waiting by the side of the road. Quick to mend that snapped chain or failed break for a couple of yuan.

But my most Chinese experience had be on my first morning changing up money.

I was directed to 'The Bank of Communication' a few steps from my hotel on Sichuan Zhonglu. Once through the ten inch security doors..Wow! What a bank! The interior was on two levels and connected by a grand sweeping staircase and chandaliers. The entire room was made of pink streaked marble and busy with Chinese clerks starting the day. I found a counter which would change sterling into Chinese yuan. They took my travellers cheques and photocopied my passport and told me to go to counter 14 to collect it.

I looked around in a panic! All the counters had Chinese characters! Where was counter 14!

Eventually someone showed me and I handed over a note, and was told to wait. I waited an hour.

My stomach was grumbling. I needed the money for breakfast. I asked if there was any progress on my money. The young clerk smiled whilst putting work in the 'in-tray' of another.

"One moment."

And on she carried. I looked through the cashier glass and it was obvious that the transaction computer was broke and she was waiting for it to work again. My stomach was now thinking that my throat had been cut and I appealed pathetically to the girl. She, feeling very sorry for this silly gwailo (especially when I mimed hunger) went and got me a coffee and a sandwich (no fillng, just bread). I really was too embarassed to eat this but at the same time rather touched by the friendliness and kindness shown while I was waiting.

So I tried a different tack and knowing no Chinese tried miming again - this time signing a 'chit'. Yes, I could see the brain whirr behind the eyes - this would be a better way of doing this.

"Please wait there."

My stomach was grumbling. I needed the money for breakfast. I asked if there was any progress on my money. The young clerk smiled whilst putting work in the 'in-tray' of another.

"One moment."

And on she carried. I looked through the cashier glass and it was obvious that the transaction computer was broke and she was waiting for it to work again. My stomach was now thinking that my throat had been cut and I appealed pathetically to the girl. She, feeling very sorry for this silly gwailo (especially when I mimed hunger) went and got me a coffee and a sandwich (no fillng, just bread). I really was too embarassed to eat this but at the same time rather touched by the friendliness and kindness shown while I was waiting.

So I tried a different tack and knowing no Chinese tried miming again - this time signing a 'chit'. Yes, I could see the brain whirr behind the eyes - this would be a better way of doing this.

"Please wait there."

So I eventually got my money but it had taken two hours, and I swear I could see the clerk hit the computer with an ashtray before I left the vicinity. I loved Shanghai, and it has made me want to see even more of China. But, ye gods - that was hard work. 

My advice, if you can't change money at your hotel, is to use a cashpoint machine. The rates are good and you won't have to traverse the long miles of bureaucracy. After all, you are in a capitalist mecca - you will need as much yuan as possible

The Serengeti - Impala, Cape Buffalo, Giraffes and hippopotami

One of the advantages of touring the Serengeti with a guide is the running commentary about the animals.

As well as pointing out where that animal is any guide worth his salt with tell you about the animal in question in detail. And a good guide can really bring the animal to life. Such was the case with Impala . These stunning little antelopes were everywhere on the Serengeti. The big herds of zebra, Thomson’s gazelle and wildebeest had headed north in the dry season but these gorgeous antelope stayed behind due to the abundant grazing in the middle of the vast park.

Impala truly are one of the best looking animals – especially the bucks. They are so elegant with the males having burnished coats and a magnificent set of antlers. One afternoon we had a herd of forty dance across the road. The stragglers in the herd literally sprang in front of our vehicle to reach the other side. The herds are generally female ruled over by a dominant male. This is his "harem" and he generally only keeps it for approximately sixteen days due to rushing about fighting off other interested males. At the end of the sixteen days he is generally too tired to defend himself from any usurper and dies of stress and exhaustion.

Male Impala live in bachelor herds, living their lives with other males until an opportunity presents itself to take over another "harem". They are not the only ones who do this in Africa – zebra, buffalo, elephant, Grants gazelles, rhinos and even lions live this way as well. There seemed to be abundant Cape buffalo in the Serengeti. Our guide was very wary of these and would tell us to "Sssshhh" as we approached. They were very skittish and the bachelor herds had a reputation for aggression. The last thing a safari guide wants is to go back to his boss with his vehicle staved in by an angry buffalo.

Then there were the Giraffes which were quite a sight as they hoved into view above the acacia trees. There were more than I thought there would be. They seemed to be in family groups often protecting their young. The young themselves were at least 12ft tall and were dwarfed by their 25ft tall fathers. A giraffe knows that you are no threat to him and will stand and observe you in your vehicle. His head soaring above yours, peering to get a good look at you. On our way to the Serengeti we saw two male giraffes fight, they did it by bashing their necks together. It was like two construction cranes taking blows at each other.

Finally, there were the hippopotami. I saw a pond of these in each of the game parks I visited. But the one in the Serengeti, the Seronera hippo pool, was quite a sight. First of all we visited in the pouring rain and to get there you had to leave the vehicle and descend a slippery track down to a wide rock encrusted pool. The pool was being tapped by incessant afternoon rain but the inhabitants didn’t seem to mind. By inhabitants I mean hippopotami – about fifty of them.

The pink/grey hippos were submerged under the water with just their ears and nostrils showing. They were crammed together letting out grunts and occasionally as you watched fights would break out – they’d try and intimidate each other with those enormous teeth. A movement caught my eye on the far bank and I got a glimpse of a Nile crocodile slide into the water.

Brrrrr....

Is it the rain that is making me shiver or sharing my space with a crocodile?

Salvador de Bahia - where the Bay of All Saints comes ashore

One morning in Barra, there was a memorable sight taking place on the beach in front of the hotel.

Watching from the promenade balustrade was a small crowd. They were viewing a group of boys and girls on the beach, doing samba exercises before work. I began to watch, and they rotated in a ring, swivelling their hips to samba music and letting out whoops of delight. Olodrum drummers beat out a rhythm, and each person moved his or her body to the music. To me the scene epitomised Salvador - taking advantage of the beaches and living life to a musical rhythm.

Barra is the closest beach suburb in Salvador to the centre. It forms a right angle to the Baiae do Todos Santos, with the famous Farol de Barra (lighthouse) at the very apex of that angle. The beaches start about 500ft away to the north of the Farol at the Porto do Barra (where I stayed) and then turn to the east where they run forever along the coast of Brazil.

Salvador is an extraordinary city, many of its residents are very poor, but everyone has time for the beach at the weekend. My recommendation to anyone coming to stay in Salvador is to stay in Barra. The advantage of the beach is obvious, but it is slightly more relaxed then the madness of Pelhurinho. Connections to the airport and bus station are close, and although noisy at night, there is a chance of sleep - something you don't get in the more budget options in Pelhurinho. As discussed before, the airport bus runs the entire length of the Orla Atlantica before heading to Pelhurino, making getting to and from the airport easy. But more importantly, ordinary buses ply this route, allowing you to sightsee in Pelhurinho during the morning and head back to Barra for a swim in the afternoon.

To get there, take a taxi from Pelhurinho (10 reals) or a bus. The bus, heading south, will pass the impressive Campo Grande. If you want a good example of the gentrification of Salvador de Bahia, then have a look at this massive square. I suspect it was a no-go area twenty years ago, but now it is rather classy. I walked through one day, feeling very safe and enjoying the hot sunshine. Care has been taken with it, with trimmed green lawns, Greek temples, gold statues, and gushing fountains.

But the southwestern exit is what you will be interested in, as it turns into Avenida Sete Semptembre. This is Salvador’s uber-rich street, with towering condos standing on cliffs overlooking the Baiae. If you are staying in the area, it is useful for its supermarkets and houses a number of English/Portuguese-language colleges. Then it dips severely downhill, almost to an excessive degree, before levelling out at the start of the Orla Atlantica and the start of the beaches. This area which contains a bus stop, open-air restaurants, and all the amenities of a small community is called Porto do Barra

Barra is primarily for Baianos. There are foreign tourists there, but essentially the beach is for those who live in Barra or nearby. Therefore it attracts many different characters. During the daytime, things are mostly good - the coco-verts sellers sell their ware for about 1 real, surfers clutch surfboards on their way to catch waves, and the whole promenade sounds with the noises of laughter and music.

This continues when the sun goes down (a classic Bahian attraction is watching sunset at the Farol), but I think Barra changes character at night. More desperate characters arrive, and as a tourist, it pays to exercise caution. The authorities in Salvador have noticed this and post armed police every 50 yards along the promenade to watch over visitors. It would be a shame to avoid Barra at night.

The chatter of people along the seawall is very atmospheric, and one evening as I was enjoying a capirinha, two Bahian children started to do an impromptu capoeira dance in front of me. A word of caution about the street children in Barra: if they do bother you, then walk away quickly. It’s not their fault they live a desperate life, but perhaps avoidance is the best policy for a tourist.

The first sandy beach you will find will be at Porto do Barra. Barra beaches have the prerequisite white sand but also as this is a promontory, they have plenty of surf and rockpools. Swimming is possible if done carefully (I did see a lad limp back after a swim in the sea) and due to the sun looks emerald green. The main attraction is the Farol de Barra but if you follow the right angle around you can reach the Morro de Christo. This is a large grasscovered mound that sticks out to sea. You need to hop over the wall and pass through a copse of palm trees and walk up the dusty track. At the top of the mound is a small white Chisto Redentor (Christ the Redeemer), just like the one overlooking Rio de Janeiro. From here, you get a superb view over the surf lashed beaches and the Praia de Farol, which is a gentler beach and where families head to on a Sunday.

But the attraction where all the tour buses pull up is the Farol de Barra. Of course, there are Baiana's selling corn-on-the-cob and other hawkers, but it is really a very impressive example of Brazils heritage. This is ground zero for Brazil - this is where their country started. The Portuguese didn't sail into Guanabara bay in Rio back in 1500 - oh, no - they sailed into the Baiae do Todos Santos. The lighthouse stands on the site of a colonial fort built in 1534 whose cannons were aimed at the bay and were primed to blast the Dutch, English, and Spanish competition. The fort/lighthouse itself has commanding views of the bay with stone octagonal walls soaring forty feet into the air each one topped by a turret. Before you enter the lighthouse, have a wander around its walled circumference at the wave-crashed inlets and the views up and down the bay.

To be frank, this is the best museum I saw in Salvador. It had been upgraded in 2000 and was complete with English translations was fully worth the 3 reals entrance. First was the history of Salvador and its inclusion on the trade routes from Africa and India. Next were 16th-century nautical maps of the area. I could even see how deep the water was in the bay from readings taken in 1558!

Old maps picked out the sweeping beaches, the island of Itaparica and the rocky escarpment that Pelhurinho was built on. There were plenty of shipwrecks in these waters - models of galleons, ship lenses and figureheads dotted the museum. The massive courtyard had been turned into an open-air restaurant. I climbed up to the battlements and looked down on the restored cannons and lighthouse tower, and the view across the bay was amazing. I'd say the Farol de Barra was worth your time - a lot of thought and care had gone into it.

But the main attraction in Barra is the beaches. I got myself into a routine the eight nights I was there - sightseeing in Pelhurino in the morning, back about two for a sleep, change into swimming trunks, and run across the road to the Porto do Barra beach, followed by drinks with friends at ten o'clock at night. But the best bit was definitely the beach - running across the sand, diving straight in, total immersement in the green water. Lord, it was wonderful. I felt I could play in the water to my hearts content...

This is the life....