Far above the arctic circle lies a small archipelago off the west coast of Norway called Lofoten. This string of small islands pokes out from the Norwegian coast into the gulf stream, a current of warm water flowing up from the coast of Spain, giving this arctic community abnormally mild weather given their latitude.
The gulf stream brings with it a wealth of fish and this small group of islands has been the home of fishermen for over 500 years. The cottages that these itinerant fishermen used are called rorbuer, translating to mean fishermans cottage strangely enough, and many have now been converted into accommodation for tourists.
Here are rorbuer on the island of Hamnøy in the heart of the Lofotens. It is an ideal spot to spend a week if you enjoy fishing or reading but beware there is absolutely nothing else to do except admire the stunning scenary.
The Green Man stayed at Eliassen Rorbuer which was most pleasant and the owner most hospitable.
This section of the Lofotens was voted the most scenic spot in Norway and it is hard to disagree.
Images of the The Green Man can be found bedecking buildings throughout western Europe and noone knows where they originated. In a quest for his origins The Green Man has come to Norway visit a likely birthplace. Well that is not quite correct, The Green Man has actually come to Norway primaryily to visit the future rather than the past.
Number one grandson has brought his parents to live in Norway and we are over to visit. In a move that some could regard as insightful in a 17 month old he has chosen the delightful coastal town of Sandefjord. Situated in 2 hours drive south of Oslo its protected coastal location means that it is spared some of Norways harsher weather with winters only dropping to -70C unlike other parts of Norway where it gets cold.
It is summer now however and the weather is mild and the days are long. After a week settling in The Green Man is off in search of trolls so expect some posts and pictures if The Green Man gets around to it.
Sulpur Vent
A Sulphur Vent at Wai-O-Tapu. Yes, it smells as revolting as it looks.
The Aukland Zoo is one of the few zoos to posses a dragon as part of its collection of exotic animals.
Additionally The Green Man was proud to be witness to a new revolutionary GM project that is designed to take the pain out of childbirth for mothers of the future.
Sinter
Near boiling water rich in silica rises from the ground and flows over a large flat pan. As it cools it deposits silica and other minerals that form the sinter.
Hello!
I very much enjoyed your site and wanted to add
something to your collection of travel tips.
My parents toured the world and when they ordered a
meal in a restaurant they always ordered rice (which
had been boiled). This they would spread over their
plates (which weren't boiled) and spread their cooked
food on the rice. They then ate their food down to the
rice and not to the plates. This alleviated a large
percent of the jippy tummy and they got in trying the
local specialties.
In the Caribbean they were told, "You must try our
crab back and callilou! Nowhere else on this planet
will you find crab back and callilou (a spinach/okra-y
dish)!"
In Egypt years later they were told, "You must try our
mouloughia, it's ours and ours alone, nowhere else in
the world will you ever find mouloughia!"
It was callilou.
Cheers and happy trails.
Janet Rutherford
Portola Valley(behind Stanford University)
California
Here some photos of the Pink Roadhouse Oodnadatta.
It is one of Australia's iconic buildings. Located on the Oodnadatta Track, it is in the middle of the Simpson Desert in the heart of the Australia. Here is a map of where it is.
Still not clear? Here is a more detailed map
and a picture of the Oodnadatta track (so you'll recognise it!)
Forget the Syndey Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. If you are serious about seeing Australia this is a must see sight on your trip, you will however need to allocate at least another 10 days to get there and get back.
Kings Park is home to the Perth Botanic Gardens and a wealth of natural West Australian flora. Here is a specimen of Eucalyptus Macrocarpa.
These Eucalypts come from the sandy semi-arid region of south west West Australia and their grey-green leaves with a furry coat are ideal at preventing precious water loss during long dry spells.
Eucalyptus Macrocarpa has the honour of having the largest flowers of any Eucalypt. If you look you can see the bee about to enter a flower to give you some perspective on the size of these flowers. This is quite unusual in Eucalypts that typically have small inconspicuous flowers.
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Liz and Peter are friends of The Green Man in spite of the fact they put him to shame with the enthusiasm and frequency that they tackle interesting and challenging bushwalks. They enticed Mrs GreenMan and myself to their house with a delicious dinner in order to show us slides of their most recent walk on the Larapinta Trail.
The Larapinta is located in the West MacDonnell Ranges, in the heart of Australia near Alice Springs. This is pretty much right in the geographic centre of Australia. The walk is two weeks in length, it is pointless to talk in kilometres when you are talking about this sort of walking. It is not for your novice bushwalker, not only because it is long but because it is through the Australia desert. This is the territory where a seemingly minor mistake can mean death, there is little water and you need to be able to carry a lot of it to make it between one water hole and the next. Having said that, for those that are up to it, it is a magnificent walk.
The bulk of central Australia is not desert in the way that you usually think of desert, hills of sand and palm trees, it is low mulga scrub and spinifex grass. Here are some of their photos that I have scanned to show you what most of central Australia is like.
Mt Giles Pound
Mt Sonder
Brinkley
Of course there are rivers, here is a picture of Birthday Creek, like most rivers in the centre, it only flows once every few years.
And finally one of Peter on the Larapinta track in full swing, literally.
Only joking that vegitation is far too green to be on the Larapinta, it must be from one of Peter's earlier walks. Still the Larapinta is very isolated and rarely travelled. I am sure you could get away with this mode of dress if you wished. The sun is pretty intense out there however. The Green Man recommends liberal application of sunscreen to certain appendages that don't regularly see the light of day if you are going to attack the Larapinta similarly unattired.
I am not talking about the desire to travel but that unfortunate bug that takes up residence in your intestinal system. Know as "Montezuma's revenge" in the Mayan world and "Delhi Belly" in India, it is usually a bacterial infection that results in stomach cramps and diarrhea.
There are some good basic steps to minimising the risk of catching it, like
- Only eat food that is freshly cooked, nothing raw
- Don't have ice in your drinks
- Only eat fruit that you can peel yourself, bananas, oranges etc
- Don't touch your food, remember that your hands are as dirty as the surroundings.
These steps only minimise the risk and often it strikes anyway. The conventional wisdom, when it strikes, is to lay off the food and stick to a bland diet of clear liquids and simple carbohydrates, like crackers, toast without butter. This is the diet that has proved effective when treating children who, as part of growing up, often pick up gastrointestinal infections.
New research by Dr. Herbert DuPont, a professor at the University of Texas Houston Health Science Center has found that it is a quite unnecessary approach when dealing with these third world travel related bouts. His research shows that continuing to eat those tacos and chilli (or firey curries) has no impact on recovery time. Because it is usually a bacterial infection antibiotics are important as is a high fluid intake but starving yourself is counter productive. He says
The intestinal tract has been injured. It needs to grow back and needs to be provided with calories.
Dr. Charles Ericsson, Head of Clinical Infectious Diseases at University of Texas Houston Medical School agrees
The contamination in food is like rolling dice. It is more important to accept some risk of diarrhea rather than starve
With no scientific basis but lots of anecdotal evidence The Green Man has found a high yoghurt intake particularly effective in these cases on the premise that flooding your system with "good bacteria" leaves less available resources for the "bad bacteria".
Day 4 started with the Poets breakfast again. I presented a somewhat caustic piece but funny just the same.
From the poets breakfast it was over to the Quokka dance venue to watch some creole dancing. Hmm you start to get the feeling that you may have been at the festival one day too long when a women in a country style floral print dress, R.M. Williams riding boots and dancing in that half-hop/half-skip cajun style has a strangely erotic look about her.
Not to worry, by 3:30pm we are packed up and trundling sedately down the Hume Highway in a Melbourne direction. Leaving the world of craziness and back to the world of normality, or is it the other way around.
I still have at least one Easter egg left. Poets Breakfast poem is below. This one got a good response.
Todays hit is the Playford dancing (think English period drama on TV, a lot of walking around holding hands and looking at one another.) My lack of any semblance of coordination usually precludes any competent dancing but even I can manage this.
Illegal Immigrants
Like so many had before them
By sea they smuggled in
little food in the container
half starved but still alive
When illegal and unwanted
They arrived upon our shore
The government it was paniced
It was clear it had to act
To address the rising threat
New laws they did enact
When illegal and unwanted
They arrived upon our shore
Desperation to settle
Marked their early days
The new land will accept them
Despite their foreign ways.
When illegal and unwanted
They arrived upon our shore
The government moved swiftly
The public on its side
The media it was utilised
To keep the anger high
Report any sightings
That was what we’re told
To prevent this new invasion
From ever taking hold
Now they have arrived
Illegal and unwanted on our shore
The message it was simple
We can not accept their presence
Through townships and through country
We must stop the fire ant menace.
I am pretty sure this isn’t the day for the Easter eggs but hey I am on holiday. Once again it is poets breakfast. Day two is the day for the serious poem, see "continue reading" below.
If you are going to a folk festival why would you leave your wombat at home? Of course there is no good reason so the wombat came too. It had an immensely good time, never short of attention and there were always plenty of volunteers to carry it if it got tired of walking.
Todays hit is part two of Martin Pearsons satirical review of the Lord of The Rings, The Two Towers (I missed part one). Clearly appreciation of folk music and The Lord of The Rings goes hand in hand since a significant percentage of the attendance at the festival attempted to fit into the tent which was not nearly big enough to house them.
It was then off to the main venue for more music. Kavish Mazella was singing, amongst others. Her songs are of varying quality but not her voice. She has the most beautiful voice, come to think of it, who cares what she is singing just listening to her voice is a worthwhile experience.
The Tough Australian Man
Don’t speak to me of being tough
I bought that line through the years
I toughed it out despite my growing fears
Don’t speak to me of being cheery
Optimism is not the answer
When you gut is full of cancer
Don’t speak to me of being brave
I’ve been brave since school
I bought that stupid myth, now I feel a fool
Don’t speak to me of manhood
I lie here, living and decaying
I will not hear a word that you are saying
When I said I felt strange inside
She’ll be right is all you said
You thought that it was in my head
When I started to loose weight
When I began to sweat and shiver
You laughed that I had stuffed by liver
When I started shitting blood
You told me it would all work out
And told me that it was time to shout
Now you talk of our good times
As if they somehow even up the score
Really, they just don’t matter any more.
Now you have a job to do
My son will need a caring man to show him how its done
To live a life that is rich and full of fun.
When my son is 9 and crying from a fall
Don’t tell him to take it like a man
Hug him and support him in everyway you can
When my son is 15 and going to a dance
Don’t make him feel a failure if he doesn’t score
Tell that his time will come for this and so much more
When my son is 18 and finally has a car
Don’t encourage him to get pissed behind the wheel
Teach him to care. To love. To feel
Australian men are vulnerable just like all the rest
If you think that toughness means an Aussie bloke
I’ve news for you. It is just a sad malicious joke.
If you are an Aussie man here’s the message in this poem
Regardless of what you’re told, none of us are tough
If you can’t describe your GPs décor, you haven’t gone enough.
Hmmm, so is this the day for eating of chocolate Easter Eggs? Not sure, pehaps I had better have one just to be on the safe side.
8:00am and it is off to the Poets Breakfast for my first public performance of the festival. It is a poem called "Out Back Yard". See below. It goes down moderately well.
Then off to the piazza to watch the Molonglo Mayhem Morris. 
I will have a more complete separate post on Morris later but let me just say that only something this daggy could be so much fun.
Molonglo Mayhem Morris represent Morris dancing from the border regions and are characterised by the ragged clothes costumes and the face painting. If I was going to get into Morris this one would be for me.
Anything that gives you an excuse to dress up like a complete fool and paint your face has to be inherently worthwhile.
Yep, that is the day before day 1 but there was still some action.
We arrived at approximately 3pm and settled into our small part of the Folk Festival world, right behind the cattle judging pavillion. (It is held in the show grounds) Fortunately this year the pavillion had been well mucked out and the aroma of cow manure was not too overwhelming.
Folk Festivals draw their inspirations from the global community and the approach to electricity is drawn straight from the third world. The trick is to go, armed with your extension chord and double adapter, in search of a connection between two existing extension chords. Then, deftly, you unplug, insert your double adapter, connect up your extension chord and Bob's your uncle so to speak.
The evening was marked by the opening concert which was attended after the important task of testing that the Guiness at the Guiness tent was up to scratch, which after 3 or 4 large glasses (Guiness doesn't come in small glasses) I deemed it was. It is amazing how the lay back feeling of the festival overtakes you so quickly.
Each year at Easter ageing hippies from across Australia gather in the nations capital to share four days of music, dance, poetry and copious amounts of guiness.
It is a yearly opportunity for The Green Man to pretend that Australia is still a nice accepting and tolerant place to live where music and the oral traditions of this eclectic country are celebrated. Where the older traditions of music and dance that were brought to this country are blended with more recent arrivals to produce a rich patchwork of music and culture.
By way of example, take a klezmer band, that's a middle European Jewish musical style for the uneducated souls amongst you. They are playing on the main stage beneath the flag of Eureka with a didgeridoo providing the base. Our recent, our old and our ancient cultures in harmony to produce a symbolism that resonates with inclusiveness. How far this is from the divisive Australia of the Howard government.
Well it is reassuring to know that there are at least 10,000 caring and compassionate Australians. I suspect more but we are given so little opportunity to display it these days.
Fidel Castro celebrates the 45th anniversary of the coup that ousted the Batista Regime and installed him as "el comandante en jefe", a term by which he is still known with affection within Cuba and a term to which I was to become familiar during my stay in Cuba. Sporting a Castro-esque beard during my stay, it was not uncommon, of an evening, to have Cuban men informing me in drunken spanish that I looked exactly like "el comandante en jefe". It means commander-in-chief for you spanish illiterates.
The revolution had such huge potential, the Batista regime was corrupt and exploitation of the working classes was appalling. Little, however, of that potential has been realised. As Lord Acton so sagely observed
Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
and so it was with the Castro regime. Free and fair elections, which was a major plank in the revolutionaries platform began to loose significance once the regime held power. Elections were something that held appeal when they were trying to attain power. When they had it, elections were seen as a destabilising threat and in the 45 years there has not been one election. People who were regarded as "enemies of the state" were arrested and held without trial, presumably many were ultimately executed because they eventually disappeared.
The socialist ideal has, like Havana's buildings, been slowly decaying in the hot tropical sun for the last 45 years. A country that could be a tropical paradise with a vibrant economy sinks each year further into squalor and apathy. The Cuban public believe Castro's assertion that the US embargo of Cubas is responsible for Cuba's ills. It is a fallacy however, as dominant as the US is, it is still only 22% of the global economy. That leaves 78% of the worlds economy for Cuba to trade with, more than enough for a small tropical country to prosper on.
Castro has succeeded in making most people equal in exactly the wrong way. Instead of raising the standard of living for the poor he has reduced the standard of living of the middle classes. Old men befriend tourists to cadge food to supplement the US$4 a month they receive in pension, teenage girls prostitute themselves to get money or to get out. It is a depressing place to visit unless you take a packaged trip to one of the big resorts where you are shielded from the reality of Cuba in 2004.
The black toenails I received on the last trip to the Wilsons Prom lighthouse have almost grown out and it is time to find another way to remember the trip.
Here is some photos from the trip.
Click on the image to see a bigger version.
Click here to see some photos of the trip.
In England "bushwalking" has the more civilised name of "rambling" and, in another blow to nude rambling enthusiasts, the most noted exponent of the sport has been jailed yet again. Stephen Gough, 44, was arrested Friday while walking naked across a busy bridge near the town of Evanton in the Scottish Highlands.
He is attempting to walk from Lands End in the South of England to John O'Groats in the north of Scotland wearing nothing but boots and a backpack. He is a mere 135kms from his goal. He started his odyssey in June and since then has been arrested numerous times, beaten up and spent a month in gaol.
Personnaly I think it is all part of the balance of nature. With the Muslim population of England growing and, consequently, more women showing less skin it is a requirement of others to show more skin just to maintain order and balance in the English society.
On a more serious note I would have thought that the British had a number of societal problems more deserving of attention of their constabulary than a harmless ratbag strolling along in what God equiped him with.
If you are interested in new and upcoming leasuretime acitivity then you can read more about it in this fascinating article in The Age. Of most value is the section on social etiquette when encountering someone who is not similarly unattired.
As you will notice from an earlier item in todays postings, The Green Man, has recently returned from a weekend long bushwalk to The Prom and no doubt some of you are starting to wonder about nude bushwalking opportunities in this region. If you are so inclined my advice is to stick to the wider tracks. There are some mighty spiky shrubs down there and you may end up with a piercing worthy of a porn website entry.
It was a big weekend for The Green Man. It was the 60th birthday party of a friend and the lighthouse at Wilsons Promontory was chosen for the celebration. With a combination of optimism and stupidity that is normally more associated with teenagers I agreed to go.
Wilsons Promontory (known locally simply as "the prom") is the most southerly point on mainland Australia. The prom sticks out into Bass Strait and consequently is, at times, subject to appalling weather. It is a 18km walk from the road into the lighthouse and as you can see from the photo we were blessed with some rare good weather.
The walk starts at Telegraph Saddle car park and descends steadily for about 2kms to sea level. It is interesting that on the way there it did not seem to matter that all this going down would be going up on the way back.
Lunch was had at a campsite called Halfway Hut. This is a cruel misnomer since, not only is it not nearly half way, all the hard stuff is yet to come. So, ignorant of these facts, The Green Man entertained such thoughts as "Half way hey, I am not as out of condition as I thought I was. This is going to be a breeze."
On the map on the below you can see the details. For those of you of foreign persuasion, there is a little inset map show where Wilsons Prom is in Victoria. (If you don't know where Victoria is you really should get out more often.)
From Halfway hut it was a long climb up to a saddle in a mountain range that some malicious creator had placed between me and the finish line. Still it was not a great problem and I made it to the saddle without undue exhaustion. We are now at a decision point, do we stay on the main track or go bush. It was far to practical and sensible to stay on the main track down and so, naturally, we headed off down a side path.
Those of you who are not Australian may not be aware of the propensity for understatement in Australia. Thus when one of group who had been this way before described it as "a bit sloppy" you may not realise that this meant that it was a quagmire and so it was. We arrived at Roaring Meg camp site muddy and ready for a good sit down.
Nature is a wonderful thing, the fit and cheery members of the group were saved from slaughter because none of the rest of us had enough energy left to do it.
It was still two hours to the lighthouse but it is amazing how you keep going when there is no alternative. Still at last our final destination was in sight. It would of been beautiful at any time but was made all the more so by a desparate need for a good sit down.
Day one of the walk was completed with a massive sting in the tail. The lighthouse is situated on an rocky outcrop and there is an incredibly steep 200 foot climb to reach the chair and cup of tea that awaits you on arrival at the lighthouse keepers accomodation which had been converted for bushwalkers.
Evening celebrations saw the consumption of two litres of white wine and a Moroccan Lamb casserole that had contributed 5 kilograms to the weight of my pack on the way in. Just as well they liked it, there was no way I was carrying it back out again. By 9:30pm we had decided that the night was old enough, as indeed we were, to call it bed time.
Next morning I climbed out of bed on legs that were telling me that they were not happy about the amount of use they had had the previous day. Still after a while they loosened up and we commenced the days activities with a climb of the lighthouse itself.
Then it was on with the packs and off. The rest of day two, of course, was day one in reverse, only this time with sore legs. Boy that climb up to the car park at Telegraph saddle was a killer, not to mention the 2.5 hour drive back to Melbourne. How do I manage to always get the job of driver.
Bushwalking is like banging your head against a brick wall. It feels fantastic when you stop!
Before we left Australia for our central american odyssey we did all the important research regarding our stay in Cuba. We watched the Buena Vista Social Club and several other Cuban movies, we hunted out somewhere to stay via the internet and booked ahead. The place was full of mystique. Imagine snubbing your nose at the USA. We pictured a country where people were poor but basically happy and defiant. The reality is somewhat different.
Arrival at the international airport in Havana is the first culture shock. I think immigration is modelled on a John LeCarre spy novel, it is a first and dramatic introduction to a communist cold war mindset that is still alive and well in Cuba.
We were staying in Habana Vieja (Old Havana), we thought it sounded like the authentic and romantic Havana. It turned out to be the squalid Havana. Having travelled in India and Nepal you would think that I would be comfortable with squalor but I found it more disturbing here. In India the squalor arises from the poor constructing the best accomodation for themselves that their poverty allows. In Havana the squalor arises from the apathy with which great architecture is rapidly decaying in the tropical climate.
We had planned to spend some days in Havana but two was quite sufficient to see those icons of the Cuban capital and we made a dash for the country. Our logic being that the corruption and exploitation of tourists that is to be found everywhere in Havana may be somewhat diluted in the country.
The copper canyon in nothern Mexico is one of the great natural wonders of the world. It is a must see destination. Twice as deep and four times as large as the grand canyon in the USA its scale is almost impossible to comprehend even when you are standing there.
Starting at Chihuahua a train runs through the canyon, down to Los Mochis on coast. A couple of days stopover at Creel is an essential part of the trip. Creel has the feel of an old west town but in a modern context, utes replacing horses in the street. (You can also stay at El Divisidero right on the edge of the canyon but that takes big bucks)
This is the land of the Tarahumara indians, Apaches to you philistines. Like many native tribes they are poor. Some exist on the fringe of the township but most live in small, largely self sufficient, farming communities throughout the copper canyon. Caves are numerous in this region and many adapt these natural shelters into warm and secure homes.
If you want to see some more my pictures of this area click here.
Learn more about travelling to an in the Copper Canyon here.
On the practical side, don't get sucked into going the 1st class train, the 2nd class is much more fun and you get to meet the locals. In Creel stay at Casa Margaritas, it is inexpensive and has varying levels of acomodation, all including breakfast and dinner. We had a motel room style which suited us well.
You can do a trip to Divisadero stopping off to see different arms of the canyon. Save this trip till the day you depart. You can pack your stuff and take it with you. Finish the trip at Divisidero and you will save the cost of the train trip between Creel and Divisidero.
My memories of Kathmandu, and Nepal generally, are positive. I know it as a peaceful city where people, including tourists, can walk safely. It is not rich but its inhabitants seem pleasant and friendly. It was not always this way. Kathmandu has a history of human rights abuse that, for its size, rival China. Stories of torture and state sanctioned assasinations are easy to find.
It seems that the dark days are returning, democracy is crumbling. The current King, installed after the murder of most of the royal family by the prince, is shifting the country back to its repressive past. He has ignored the popularly elected government and installed his own. The government has been rounding up and imprisoning activists. Over 1,000 were arrested in Kathmandu yesterday. Here is a photo of some of the typical activists arrested. We can expect some of them to disappear forever. Others will be unusually quiet and subdued after they reappear.
"Long live democracy!" and "Down with the king's repression!" protesters shouted out as they were driven away by police to the Dasharath football stadium, converted into a makeshift jail, according to news agency AFP.
Maes Howe is an example of burial in stone age times. Skara Brae, on the other hand, is the most complete example known of stone age living. Also situated on the Orkneys in the north of Scotland it is a small stone age village that has miraculously survived 5,000 years relatively untouched.
Unlike many small communities across the world, the community at Skara Brae used predominately stone in the construction of its artifacts and accomodation. No-one knows why the village was abandoned but it was left intact with many of the artifacts of day to day life remaining. This is real life Flintstones.
Click here to see a short online video clip from the BBC on this ancient community.
Mase Howe is located in the Orkney Islands at the extreme north of Scotland.
It is a burial mound dating back to 2,700BC. The mound is 35 m in diameter and 7 m high. The internal construction is stone slabs and consists of a number of chambers. It is a excellent example of prehistoric burial mounds that can be found throughout Britian and Europe.
During the winter solstice the sun shines down the entrance passageway into the central chamber, the rest of the time you need to make use of the lighting that has been installed.
The tomb was raided and emptied of artifacts before the birth of Christ. Vikings later used it as a shelter from the storms and the viking graffiti can be seen to this day carved on the interior walls in runes. What did they write? The same sorts of things that graffiti artists write today ".... was here", that sort of thing.
It is an intriguing development that we can now all be connected to this relic of our distant past via webcam. The webcam is not live at the moment but click here to view some recent action in this ancient passageway on a distant Scottish island.
I am a bit of a Himalayas fan but I am thinking that the chances of me getting to the top of Everest are on the slim side. For a start I am quite attached to my fingers and toes and people going up have the unfortunate habit of becoming parted with at least some of them. The US$10,000 fee per climb is a bit off-putting as well.
Anyway, if you would like to know what you get to see for the price of $10,000 and several digits you can see a panoramic 360 degree image here.
The Green Man's Western Australian odyssey is now documented. Here is one of the more interesting photos.
They are stromatolites at Hamlin Pool near Denham. Stromatolites are the result of primitive life forms that first existed on earth 3.5 billion years ago. The dome shaped structures reach up to 60cm in height and are formed by single celled organisms called cyanobacteria. They are continuing to grow.
If you are that desparate to fill in time you can view the rest of the photos at Webshots
Cenotes exist all across the Yucatan peninsula in southern Mexico. They are sink holes in the limestone of the area that contain underground lakes. The Mayans believed these were gateways to the world of the gods. Accordingly they adopted the habit of sacrificing unfortunate individuals by chucking them in through the small openings in the ground that are the only sign of the cenote.
The Mayans did not think of this as a punishment, it was a privilege. This belief was confirmed by the fact the none of them ever returned. The fact that the person sacrificed promptly drowned in the underground lake did not seem to occur them as reason for them not returning.
Most cenotes are inaccessible however the Dzitnup cenote near Valladolid in Yucatan has a path leading into it. We visited at 10:00 am in the morning before most of the tourist traffic arrived. It was already scorchingly hot outside and the cave was refreshingly cool. You can swim in this cenote which is an eerie experience, swimming amongst stalagmites that formed before the cenote filled with water and below giant stalactites. Also there are small blind fish that brush past you in the water.
The Green Man could have been more accurately described as the red man at the time, having, two days before, been on a snorkelling and sunburn tour off the coast of Cancun. The Green Man's skin is callibrated for the pallid sun of northern Scotland not the blistering (literally) sun of Cancun. The cool water was refreshing on a raw and tender back.
Now, now. I thought I had a more sophisticated readership than that!
You can remove your mind from the gutter now. Jerking is a carribean method of preparing meat. My first experience of jerked meat was at the SandBox restaraunt in the small carribean caye of Caye Caulker. We had arrived in Belize City the previous day by bus from Mexico, one of those old US school buses that are reincarnated as public transport in Central and South America.
Belize City is run down and dangerous, particularly after dark, and one night was sufficient there. We hopped onto a water taxi and headed for Caye Caulker. First we settled into our cell at Tom's Hotel, the steal door and heavily barred windows are reassuring in this dangerous country. Then we took a walk down the main street, Front Street. It is named such to distinguish it from Back Street, the only other street on the caye.
The sandbox box was a restaraunt with a sand floor, inside and out, which would have been completely intolerable without insect repellant, sand flies also eating at the venue. I had a Jerked Chicken Burger and a Beliken Beer (the local brew).
You can find a recipe for Jerk marinade by clicking continue reading.
Jerk Marinade
1½ cup scallions,chopped
2 habanero chiles, seeded
2 tablespoons soy sauce
4 tablespoons lime juice
1 teaspoon lime zest
5 teaspoons ground allspice
1 tablespoon dry mustard
2 bay leaves, crumbled
2 garlic cloves
