They’re called stones fallen from heaven, living fire, an anchor stone of hope. Some swear they made the owner invisible. We just call them opals and their story is magical.
The finest opals come from Australia. It’s not just a boast, it’s also a fact. Not only the finest, but also the most – 95% of all opals are eked out of this great continent.
Black opals – which aren’t really …..
Black opals are never entirely black
Some black opals even look blue
…..light opals, which are….
Light opals are most common in Coober Pedy
……. and boulder opals, which are a bit of both
Boulder opals are indeed part boulder and part opal
– come in all shapes and sizes, but most importantly must have the fire that marks the gem.
Even the mining areas sound a little magical – Lightening Ridge, Mintabie, Andamooka, Quilpie and White Cliffs. Perhaps the biggest mining area is at Coober Pedy, in the very heart of the Australian outback.
The Coober Pedy mining truck welcomes you to town
Coober Pedy is like nowhere else – literally an up-side-down world where the living make their homes and work underground and out of sight, while the cemetery is up-top and in the open!
Home, sweet dome. The front door, tucked into the hillside
The house under the hill – one of many
The majority of residents live underground in hillside dugouts
A dugout home
The temperature remains constant below ground
The Coober Pedy cemetery on a ridge above the town
Flying over the town also gives a bird’s-eye view of the strange formations made from individual mine shafts. It’s claimed there are up to four million shafts in and around the town, giving it more of a Martian landscape.
A tiny part of Coober Pedy’s moonscape of mine shafts
A millionaire in Coober Pedy (and they claim there are quite a few) looks the same as every other dust-coated, jeans and plaid-wearing worker; some have struck lucky in just a few feet of fine dirt, others have toiled for decades and never found a chip of colour. They say it is addictive. This miner told us he had already made a million by the turn of the 1980’s. In 2016 he was still down in the dirt.
A lifetime underground, hunting for the precious gems
Keen eyes endlessly watch for the glint of a gem
It’s not a hi-tech operation
Spinning teeth eat into the mine wall
For all their value, opals started life as nothing more than trickles of silica running through cracks in the earth. Thanks to the inimitable creativity of Mother Earth, what gets chipped out the other side, millennia later is, if you are lucky, a milky stone of fire.
Trickling temptation – this is what the miners yearn for
The stones have been lauded throughout time. Cleopatra was a big fan as were many royals and dignitaries. Roman women prized them above all other stones and the generals often carried opal-tipped staves into battle for luck. The not-so-lucky Marie Antoinette owned one called the Forest Fire. Opals were responsible for founding of London’s famous Hatton Gardens jewellery quarter after Sir Christopher Hatton presented the virgin Queen Elizabeth with a fine set of gems and in return she booted the bishops out of the Palace at Ely and presented Sir Chris with a fine place to live and work. The palace grounds became Hatton Gardens. A much more recent Elizabeth – Taylor – was also an avid collector, as were Andy Warhol and Elvis Presley.
It was originally thought that the gems were only found in the Carpathian Mountains in Europe, in a location so secret that the miners would employ complex subterfuge to remain undiscovered. Opals were also found in Mexico and Peru, feeding the ancient Mayan and Inca desires. Imagine the surprise and delight of opal lovers and miners when the gem they thought only available in a few limited and secret places were found half a planet away in Australia.
Tulle Woolaston is credited as the first large scale trader. It is fitting that Australian opals were first introduced into Europe by Woolaston at Hatton Gardens – the place where is all began centuries earlier.
The opal rush began in earnest in 1889. Originally Coober Pedy the area was known as Umoona by the Aboriginals who lived there. After the mining boom began they renamed it Kupaku Piti, which translates to ‘white man’s hole’.
A basic miners dugout
Early miners would often sleep in their claim to stop others from stealing their stones
To look at the mine-fields now you could be forgiven for thinking not much has changed.
The tools of the trade haven’t changed much
Unlike other mineral extraction, opal mining was and still is mainly a family business. Prospectors peg out a fifty metre square and drop 1.5m exploratory shafts.
Exploratory shafts are just 1.5metres wide
Then the lateral tunnelling begins.
The tunnels goes for miles under the town and surrounding area
Artistic scars from the mining machines make for great wall art
In 1972 mining was banned underneath the town itself, because of fears that it would simply fall in on itself. There was no detail of who was digging where, and most weren’t just digging, they were dynamiting too. It was the wild west of unregistered and unregulated mining just below the schools, shops and roads and right next to the dug out underground homes. The story is often told of the miner who blew out the lounge room of a neighbour chasing a promising seam. One look from above and the endless miles of mine shafts shows just how real their concerns were.
The many dangers of strolling around Coober Pedy
The earth moving from above
They say there are four million mine shafts around Coober Pedy
Exceptions are made for tunneling to make an underground home. It’s claimed that one Coober Pedy bachelor miner has had to dig out 20 bedrooms under the town, “to accommodate his huge extended family who occasionally visit”
And it seems that all the rules, all the bets and all the courtesy goes straight down the hole if you hit the right seam.
The mines promise much
Coober Pedy is a town of secrets. No one trusts anyone and no one tells anyone anything. Miners are followed through the night to see if they have found a promising dig. Fortunes maybe won or lost, but all go on under the cover of the underground.
The promise of riches and beautiful gems has also brought hopeful families from all over the world. There are around 3,500 people living permanently in Coober Pedy, with 45 different nationalities.
Welcome to the underworld
The underground Serbian Church is one of many different denominations
Some look for divine inspiration, others have divining aspirations, thought it was hard to be convinced that it really worked.
Divining opals – not a very productive process
And if you can’t afford to dig, you can still feed your addiction, with a bit of noodling on the side – the terms of digging through the spoil heaps, or tailings, in search of a missed moment. And yes, there are stories of people finding hugely valuable gems in a pile of dirt, of course there are!
Free noodling
The tailings from countless mine shafts just might hold that lost stone
Coober Pedy is a curious place, full of mystery and intrigue, where the hopes of many nations come together. Beyond its boundaries is the vast outback, and it also has stories of magic and mystery to share.
The Moon Plain has featured in numerous apocalyptic movies, including Mad Max. Named for its endless empty scape, it is also an important place in Aboriginal stories and Dreamtime.
The desolate Moon Plains
The black shadow of a soft cloud is all that breaks the view
The Breakaways are a series of spectacular rock formations rising out of the Plain in distinct and distinctive colours. This is considered an important place of learning for young Aboriginal men.
One way only to the Breakaways
The imposing mounds are considered sacred by the Aborigines
The Breakaways cast in shadow
The shapes and colours all tell a story
While the two prominent formations are known as salt and pepper or the castle locally, the Aboriginal story tells of two puppies – one white and one yellow, sitting down near their owner the “man” in the shadow behind them.
The rich colours of the Breakaways glow in the late afternoon sun
You can clearly see why the Breakaways is also the main source of red ochre (tudu), used in Aboriginal dressing up ceremonies, as well as the source of other ochre colours.
The outback surrounding Coober Pedy holds millennia of history. From ancient stories, to gems as old as the land itself. It also is part of more modern record-breaking history.
Part of the Dog Fence
“A fence”, we hear you say, “it’s a fence”. It’s not just a fence. The Dog Fence is the longest fence in the world. This humble stretch of wood and wire built in the 1880’s is one of the longest structures in the world. Designed to keep dingoes away from sheep stock, it runs a mind-boggling 5,614km from the east to the south of Australia.
The Dog Fence stretches across the continent
Hundreds of men live along the fence, working in shifts and sleeping in small huts complete with satellite TV and shortwave radios to keep the barrier intact.
You can see the Dog Fence running through the middle of the frame
But if size does matter to you, then Anna Creek is for you. It is the world’s biggest property, spread over six million acres, or 24,000km2. If it were a country it would be 150th on the big list – greater than 89 others.
Anna Creek – the largest cattle station in the world, makes the Dog Fence look like a row of toothpicks
The vastness of the desert
The desertscape is far from flat
A mustering station and dam in the middle of the outback
Parts of the desert are as green as a bowling lawn from the recent rains
Just for scale – the green blobs are full-sized trees
Far from being deserted – the Australian outback is full of life and stories. You could say it is both an ancient and modern, priceless gem.
Are you stuck for the ideal romantic gift, something that will last a lifetime and also be a daily reminder of your affection? Why not forge your love in steel?
Just south of Canberra is the Tharwa Valley Forge, where Karim Haddad has honed his exceptional craft and now teaches courses in the art of Japanese knife making.
Karim – our guru
He promised to help us make knives that will last 100 years.
His passion for his work is obvious and infectious. His 12-year-old daughter Leila is already a renowned artist who is the darling of the Japanese knife-making scene.
Leila is a very impressive young talent
We too are now converted. So how does such a love affair begin?
Well, on day one it all looks very unassuming to begin with. The studio where much of the work takes place looks very orderly and there is no hint of the sparks that will fly, or the grinding, filing, cutting and drilling to come.
Our studio looks very clean and clinical for now!
Also on hand to help is Dean Jard – a cut-throat razor expert who sharpens his blades under a microscope!
Dean focusing on his special cut throat razors
Paper, plastic and a pencil are our initial weapons of choice, selecting the type of knife you want to make, drawing out a template for the blade and measuring your hand for a handle perfectly sized to you.
Blade and handle shapes and templates to play with and get inspiration
The first cut at knife design
RTFM – It looks so simple, right?
The parts manual
Then it’s time to get all fired up at the forge! Steel bars are heated up in a small but perfectly formed gas-fired forge known as a pig. Though she be little, she is fierce – pumping out 1000C. It is vital to work the metal as fast as possible, hammering and stretching the metal before it quickly turns back to grey hard steel.
Into the fire
The first hit, to shape the tang
Girl with large hammer and searing hot metal
But the heat is fleeting and the beating needs to be fast and furious before the embryonic blade has to be plunged back into the furnace.
Red hot and dangerous
After repeated firing, hammering and cooling – the normalising and annealing process – the excess steel is cut off and the remainder is starting to take shape, but looks like a blackened, carbonised mess.
Love power tools!
Carbon plating
Looking more like rejects than hopefuls
The blackened blade is blitzed on a grinder to remove the carbonized coating,
Grinding off the annealed knives
Half way through and it looks medieval
Ground off and ready for the next phase
and then is ready to be tempered. Once more into the pig, but at a lower temperature (a mere 210C) and then soused in oil to cool it at speed.
and leave to bake on gas mark……
After the final treatment, which rather unexpectedly consists of lining up the gnarly looking steels on a baking tray and popping them in the kitchen oven for an evening bake, day two dawns, with Karim having given an overnight initial polish and what yesterday looked positively bronze-age is starting to look like the heirloom we were hoping for.
Yesterday they didn’t look much to be proud of.
An overnight bake and polish throws a different light by morning
But now the heat is on in a very different way. Creating the final finish on the blade sounds easy, but this is no ordinary process.
It starts with a belt sander, and works its way through finer and finer grade sanding, draw-filing (dragging fine paper endlessly one way down the length of the blade and then polishing or linishing with the finest paper and then cardboard until there is no sign of any mark, flaw, line or blemish. It’s back-breaking, relentless sweaty work in 40C heat but Karim will not let you stop until the blade is perfectly smooth to the touch and his keen eye.
Sparks fly when you are having fun
The draw-filing can take hours
Until the blade glows like a strip of silver
Endless hot, hard work
The blade is then covered in blue tape for protection while we turn our attention to creating the handles. Much like the uninspiring lump of steel that we began with, the buckets of woody chunks and slabs show little of their potential and none of their final promise.
Buckets of wood blocks for handle-making
You won’t believe what this looks like in the end
The main blocks are married with smaller pieces, which form the guard and slivers of metal and cardboard that make up the dividers. It all looks like something from a kiddies craft class, especially when the gluing, sticking and clamping happens.
Building the handle components
Geoff’s handles taking shape
Gluing the handles
Glued, clamped and left to set
Far from looking like heirlooms
But then we bring out the sanding big guns, and the handles start to show hints of colour and form.
Cleaning off the glue and squaring the handle
Handle squared but not yet shaped
Shaping the handle on the belt sander
It’s not until the last moment when the oil is applied to the handles that the final magic happens and our heirlooms blossom into life.
Waiting for the final touches
Before the oil
Before and after
Our finished knives
Rightfully proud
The smile says it all
We love our knives. We are proud of what we have created. Japanese chefs believe our soul goes into our knives once we start using them. What better gift could you give than your soul?
Kick back and relax with our video of life at Lovett Bay. And if that whets your appetite, there are even more delicious photos in the slideshow below!
“Yeah I know, but I haven’t finished yet,” Mort insisted.
It could have come straight from the classic Aussie movie The Castle, and the Kerrigan family hilariously extolling the virtues of their holiday spot at Bonnie Doon on Lake Eildon, but it seems that the serenity at Lake Eildon isn’t just a comical movie moment.
Lake Eildon
Lake Eildon campsite
Geoff gathers fire wood
We spent a couple of nights camping at Lake Eildon in our first week back in Australia. Apparently we were there at the same time as Wendy, Mort and a journalist from The Age newspaper.
We probably achieved as much as Mort during our visit. We didn’t get interviewed, but we did get photos!
Still waters at Lake Eildon
Looking across Lake Eildon
Lake Eildon turned pink at sunset
Oh, and if you have not seen The Castle, please watch it – it’s a brilliant, wondrous movie.
The following week we took a short nostalgia trip. Two years ago Geoff and I spent our first night under canvas (well, nylon really) at a gorgeous spot in the Snowy Mountains range called Geehi Flats.
Our first ever campsite revisited at Geehi Flats
Camping under the shady trees at Geehi Flats
We decided to revisit the place that set off our camping bug and were greeted by a mob of kangaroos in the neighbouring paddock. It was as delightful as the first time and even more peaceful.
Kangaroo and joey at sunset at Geehi Flats
Guess who’s coming to dinner?
Kangaroo interupted
Kangaroo forward guard
Joey chews on the green grass at Geehi Flats
Kangaroos at dusk at Geehi Flats
Kangaroo at Geehi Flats
Early morning at Geehi Flats
The next day we headed off toward another old camping ground. The road took us past Tallangatta, made famous as “the town that moved” after it was relocated and the original site flooded as part of the Snowy Mountains hydro-electric project.
This was Tallangatta two years ago.
Old Tallangatta, two years ago
This is Tallangatta today.
The skeleton of the town of Tallangatta is re-emerging as the waters run dry
The once drowned world is now a green and pleasant valley with the skeletons of homes and offices emerging from the earth once more.
Drowned world
A bright green valley lies where water once was and before that a thriving town
Many parts of Australia have been suffering drought conditions for years, but to see Tallangatta exposed in this way is unusual. It is worrying and eerie to see.
How Tallangatta used to look before it was flooded
The remains of one of Tallangatta’s buildings are now exposed
The roads and avenues can be clearly seen
From the green and pleasant lands of Old Tallangatta we headed to Oura Beach, an out of the way campsite about 20kms out of Wagga Wagga.
A flurry of white and yellow
On a lovely bend of the Murrumbidgee River we set up camp below a canopy of gum trees and a cacophony of white cockatoos.
What a fine display!
On the wing
The tree amigos
The shady gum trees at Oura Beach
River companions
Out on a limb
Singing Superb Blue Wren
You wouldn’t believe the noise those fellows make! As well as the normal slideshow at the end of this blog, we’ve made a little video so you can share in the wonderful, endless shouty parade that is white cockies at play.
I’ve just returned to Bangkok after 4 days riding around Northern Thailand. What a blast! If you enjoy hassle free motorcycle riding on great roads, then this is one for you.
Cultivated valley on route 107
Sara was out of Bangkok for a week, so I took the opportunity to take a side trip to the north. I’ve been to Bangkok many times, including a few short-term work stints, so it was good to travel to places unknown.
I caught the overnight train from Bangkok up to Chiang Mai. The train ride is a great trip by itself. I booked a 2nd class seat, no air con, but the windows open so you get a good breeze and much better views than the fixed windows in the a/c section. The seats are equivalent to business class seats on an international airline, big comfy recliners with loads of legroom. The trip took 16 hours, departing at 10 pm and arriving at 2 pm the next day. At lot of the journey there’s only one line, so you spend some time waiting in a siding for another train coming down the line to pass. There’s a dining car serving good cheap and tasty Thai food. The temperature dropped as the train made its way slowly into the mountains. By early morning it was cool and foggy so I was glad I’d brought a fleece jacket with me. I could have closed the window, but was enjoying the wafts of pine, wood smoke and frangipani, though I could have done without the olfactory evidence of a pig farm nearby at one stage.
The overnight train from Bangkok
At Chiang Mai I grabbed a tuk-tuk to C & P Dirt and Road Bike Rental and picked up a Kawasaki EF6n 650. They also provided a helmet, jacket and gloves. The 650 is about the largest capacity bike you can hire around these parts. There is one shop, Tony’s Big Bikes, run by a couple of English guys, that has a couple of BMW F800GS, but they are quite pricey and booked out months in advance. After a bit of paperwork and taking pictures of all the pre-existing scuffs and scratches on the bike I headed north out of Chiang Mai to Chiang Rai on route 118. It’s a main road, so not challenging, but an enjoyable cruisey ride all the same. I hadn’t slept much the night before so thought it would be a good idea to have an easy ride so start with.
Kawasaki EF6n 650
I arrived in Chiang Rai just on dusk and I found a room in the centre of town for 250 Thai baht, about AUS$9.85 or €6.80. Had a quick shower then strolled around the night market near the bus station. There was a stage set up at one end with several bands taking turns doing country and western Thai style. I had a great dinner at one of the many street food vendors. Set up around the market. Its one of the things I love about Thailand, the best and cheapest food is found at the smallest stalls. You can eat a 3-course meal for a couple of bucks. After dinner I bought a bottle of SangSom, Thailand’s favorite rum and retired to the balcony back at my hotel.
Buddist shrine south of Mae Hong Son
Chiang Rai is the northernmost large city in Thailand, on the edge of the Golden Triangle, one of Asia’s main opium producing areas. It also used to be famous for its production of highly potent Buddha sticks. So the next morning in the interests of cultural immersion I lit up a big spliff of highlands Buddha, chased the dragon and skulled half a bottle of SangSom, then hit the road with tyres spinning and pupils pinning.
(ASIO, if you’re reading this, I’m kidding ok, lighten up! It’s for dramatic effect. When I arrive back in Australia I don’t want to hear, “Sir, please step into this room” and the sound of a latex glove being pulled on. Plus, it sounds way more cool and Zaphod Beeblebrox than I had a banana smoothie and checked the exclusions on my travel insurance)
A mountain lake near the Laos border
I continued north from Chiang Rai on route 1 for a while, then turned east onto route 1089, close to the Laos border. This is a secondary road with little traffic. In a few places it’s within sight of the Laos border and there are a few military checkpoints and the occasional truckload of soldiers. By the looks on the faces of the soldiers in the back of the trucks as I went barreling past them I was enjoying my early morning ride a hell of a lot more than they were. The first part of the route is a long wide valley with terraced rice paddies and small herds of water buffalo standing around nonchalantly flicking their ears. At the end of a series of valleys, route 1089 becomes route 107 and rises into forested hills, with the corners getting tighter and tighter as you get closer to the top of the ranges. From there it drops down towards Chiang Do. I’m told there is an amazing limestone cave complex at Chiang Do with over 12km of stalactite strewn tunnels to wander, but I didn’t stop to admire them. I was heading south to meet route 1095, the start of the famous Mae Hong Son loop, a motorcycling paradise. According to Wikitravel and Lonely Planet the Mae Hong Son loop takes a minimum of 4 days to complete. It was already mid afternoon when I turned onto route 1095 and my train back to Bangkok was in 2 ½ days so I thought I’d better rack up some km’s and leave the sightseeing to another visit. (Oh yes, I definitely want to revisit this ride!)
Sweeping bends following the river
I don’t know who counted them, but according to Lonely Planet and Wikiktravel there are 762 bends along the 97 km stretch of road between the start of route 1095 and the town of Pai. I can attest that I thoroughly enjoyed every one of those 762 bends. The road is well maintained (mostly), there are no speed cameras, and the police don’t bat an eyelid at behaviour that would get you arrested on the spot in Australia. Earlier in the day I’d overtaken a local guy on his scooter who was riding flat out with one hand on his head holding his straw hat. Two corners later I came up hard behind a Toyota Hilux police car with 2 police standing in the back with machine guns. I grabbed a handful of brakes and waited for a legal place to overtake. Suddenly the guy on the scooter overtakes all of us on double lines, around a corner, still flat out and still holding his hat on with one hand. The police watch with looks of complete boredom. Ok, I’m getting a sense of how the game is played around here and I like it. It’s reminiscent of that scene from Mad Max 1, Captain Fifi Macaffee “As long as the paperwork’s clean, you boys can do what you want out there”
I should add a qualifier to that. You can do what you want out there, as long as you maintain some common sense and remember the laws of physics still apply. I saw 3 guys on Honda CBX 500’s riding at speed, wearing shorts and thongs, nothing else, not even a helmet. They must think that Thailand has inflatable trucks and marshmallow asphalt.
I arrived in Pai late afternoon and got a great room at The Burger House. 350 baht for a queen size bed in a lovely wood paneled room with a large rattan ceiling fan and a balcony overlooking the street. It even came with a guard dog, which slept next to my bike all night.
The Burger House at Pai
The Burger House guard dog
Pai is a lively place that feels like Thailand’s answer to Byron Bay. There are lots of international visitors and an eclectic mix of street vendors at the night market. As well as the usual extensive range of great Thai food, there were stalls selling tacos, burritos, lasagna, even English style battered fish and chips. The chicken burrito with guacamole and chilli Thai sauce was delicious. From eavesdropping on a few conversations as I was strolling around, I gathered there was a larger than usual crowd in town for the full moon party happening the following night.
I’d been looking at the Wikitravel article about the Mae Hong Son Loop and saw that it had the ride from Pai to Mae Hong Son as a 1 day ride and the ride from Mae Hong Son to Mae Sariang as another days ride. So, if I rode from Pai to Mae Sariang in one day then I’d be on track to be back in Chiang Mai in time to catch the afternoon train I was booked on.
This was the best days ride of the trip. Just glorious! Not a dull section of the road the whole day. It was cool in the morning when I left Pai. The first few hours are up in the mountains, riding through the forests with long views across the mountains and mist in the valleys. As the day warmed up there was the smell of pine and wood smoke, dappled light through the trees and almost no other traffic. Whatever riding conditions you like, they’re here. Twisty mountain climbs and descents, long sweeping curves along the river flats, the occasional straight stretches to really open the throttle. I probably should have stopped more often to take pictures of the stunning scenery, but I was having too much fun. I didn’t feel like I was pushed for time, and had leisurely coffee breaks every 40 minutes or so. I stopped for lunch in Mae Hong Son and was surprised to find there’s an airport literally in the center of town. If a plane overshot the runway it would have come through the back wall of the café where I ate.
The road from Mae Hong Son to Mae Sariang is less mountainous than the mornings ride so I made good time and was in Mae Sariang by mid afternoon. I got a room at the River Bank Guest House, overlooking the Yuam River. After a quick shower and a stroll down the main street to find my favorite street food, grilled pork skewers, I settled on the balcony with a book and a SangSom rum and coke to watch the sunset.
Drinks on the balcony at Mae Sariang overlooking the Yuam River
The next morning was a lazy, late start. An hour spent drinking café lattes and watching the goats frolicking and foraging on the opposite riverbank. I was only a 3 hours ride away from Chiang Mai, but I wanted to take a detour up to Doi Ithanon, Thailand’s highest mountain. It was only a 100km round trip, up and back, and I didn’t have to be at the train station in Chiang Mai till 5pm, so what the heck.
River Bank Guest House at Mae Sariang
You’re probably getting bored with reading about the fantastic riding conditions. You’re thinking, “Yeah, yeah, more twisting turning weaving, loads of fun, we get the picture” Suffice it to say, it was great. I followed route 108 east out of Mae Sariang for a couple of hours then turned left onto route 1009 towards Doi Ithanon. After about 10 km’s I came to the entrance to the Doi Ithanon National Park. As I was paying the entrance fee I asked how far to the summit of Doi Inthanon and was told 40 km, one hour. Hmm, one hour? Perhaps the road is steeper and more winding than I’d first thought. Oh well, if it took an hour I’d still just make it to drop off the bike and high tail it to the train station if I got to the top, turned around and came straight back down. As it turned out, the 40 km was true, but 20 minutes later I was in the parking area at the summit. The temperature dropped remarkably in those 20 minutes and it was the first time I’d wanted to keep the jacket on once stopped. After a quick look around and a photo to show I’d been there I rode a few kilometers back down the hill to admire the gardens at the twin temples.
Doi Ithanon, the highest mountain in Thailand
Naphaphonphumisiri Chedi near the summit of Doi Ithanon
Naphamethinidon Chedi near the summit of Doi Ithanon
Another 45 km’s down the mountain and I was back on route 108. From there it’s a straight, dull, four lane divided road most of the may back to Chiang Mai, so nothing to mention there. I dropped the bike off with time to spare, grabbed a late lunch, and hopped a tuk-tuk back to the train station. Another 16 hours on the train and I was back in Bangkok by 10am the next morning.
Looking very pleased
As I mentioned earlier the guides say the Mae Hong Son loop is a minimum of 4 days, but if you’re just after a great ride without stopping for sightseeing you could do it comfortably in 2 days. That still allows plenty of time for leisurely coffee breaks, meals stops and still be in time for sunset G&T’s.
Charlie Charleston’s safely back in the UK, after covering more countries in 10 days than we managed in 18 months! Here’s his whirlwind story, as told by Sara’s brother, Kevin.
A few weeks ago I got a call from Sara to say that she and Geoff were planning to go to Australia in the New Year and asking if I could give Charlie Charleston a bit of garage space for a few months. I said of course I can where is he? Er Athens said Sara but it would be fun driving back to England. I thought about it briefly and decided it would be fun, recruited my son Charles as co-driver and flew out to Athens on New Years Eve.
Saturday 3rd January 2015
Charlie Charleston’s first day under new management was a 520 kilometre jaunt from Athens north through Greece to Sarande in Albania, where we were told the authorities are difficult and the roads bad, ooer!
Leaving Athens, Greece
We headed out of Athens at 08:00 in the morning and Charlie motored happily along the coast past Corinth and Aigio and towards the Antirrio Rio Bridge over the gulf of Patras. However we were motoring a bit too happily and got stopped for speeding by the Greek rozzers. A puzzled policeman took one look at the heavily loaded, Dutch registered, French car, driven by Englishmen and waved us on our way with a smile. We crossed the impressive bridge and headed North towards Ioannina.
Gulf of Corinth, Greece
Antirrio rio bridge, Greece
Just a note here for the Greeks; stop throwing crap out of your cars, especially plastic water bottles. The ditches are full and it looks terrible, have a bit of pride in your country.
All along the roads we passed numerous shrines, some of which are extravagantly decorated and contain pictures and mementos.
Roadside shrine near Amvrakia, Greece
These, I am glad to say, given the number, aren’t just for road casualties but are mostly memorials for friends and relatives from the nearby towns and villages.
As evening fell we arrived, with some trepidation, at the Albanian border. I hopped out of the car to present our documents to the dour looking official in the booth. After a full range of frowning, humming, tutting and tooth sucking he looked up and asked with a smile if we would like stamps in our passports. We were in.
Sunset in Albania
Sunday 4th January
Our overnight stop was in Ksamil with the friendly Altin. This is a new development area on a former military site just down the road from Sarande.
Sarande, Albania
Like much of Albania there are large numbers of unfinished buildings in and around Sarande, but it is clean and the people are friendly, even the cops wave as we go by. Just off the coast is Corfu and I think in a few years time this could be a holiday destination.
A friendly Albanian
Our next leg was about 530 kilometres to Kotor in Montenegro.
Driving in Albania was a novel experience. There are brand new petrol stations everywhere, open all hours and people standing on every street corner. Judging by the stares we got most of them have never seen a 2CV before. Many wave.
We decided to take the coast road north over the mountains, ideal for a 2CV. The scenery was spectacular and some of the roads were very good. There were also some epic potholes and bits of road, which were no longer road.
Re-surfacing required in Albania
That and the fact that the entire farmyard had been let loose on the highway kept us alert. We avoided goats, sheep, cows, donkeys, horses, chickens, turkeys, dogs and a pig.
Goats in Albania
After slogging around 800 metres up the, almost continuous, hairpins, much of it in first gear we had stopped somewhere past Himare, to take a photo of Charlie, when a man on a bicycle towing a trailer came down the hill, calling out in Dutch!
Meeting Johan in the Albanian mountains
Johan from the Netherlands, on the side of a road in Albania
Johan from Maastricht had been on the road on his bike for the past 25 months and after chatting to him for a while we left him with a bottle of Coke and carried on up the mountain wondering if his brakes were good enough for the miles of steep downhill he faced, come to think of it how the hell did he ride a bike and trailer up there in the first place?
Down the other side of the snowy mountains we came into the seaside city of Vlorë, the former capital of Albania. Again the half finished buildings and palm-lined pavements suggest that this is a place with potential. In the meantime the chaotic traffic, and massive holes you have to dodge were all quite good fun. Nobody seemed to be getting uptight about it, not even the slightly scary looking guys in big black Mercedes.
Vlore resident, Albania
Vlore road, Albania
The Sat Nav led us out of the city on the old, ruined and virtually disused road instead of the nice new dual carriageway, which is alarmingly 2 way on each side when it suits the locals. This would have been a pain in the bum but it was worth it for the fabulous communist style mural on the city boundary.
Vlore city mural, Albania
The sun was setting as we drove through Fier and Durres on our way to Montenegro. At the border we had a problem with Charlie’s insurance papers, which 15 Euros ironed out and we drove on into the night looking forward to a beer in Kotor.
When we arrived at the snow covered town of Cetinje, little did we know that we were only about 45 minutes away from Kotor via the attractive town of Budva, but the Sat Nav decided the best route was over a mountain pass. Charlie ploughed gamely through the snow-covered streets and off up the ever narrowing, steep, dark, snowy mountainside.
Only 20 kilometres to go the Sat Nav said and it looked as though we were reaching the summit – no chance! After saying several times to each other that this surely couldn’t be the right way we finally could go no further as the wheels spun on the ice covered road.
The end of the road in the mountains above Cetijne, Albania
Ignoring the sat Nav’s attempts to send us up a goat track we went back down to Cetinje but we just could not find a way out of the town. Every road the Sat Nav sent us down was blocked with snow and it was not until a passing couple drew us a map that we were able to escape. We finally arrived in Kotor after 14 hours on the road.
Monday 5th January
From the balcony of our riverside apartment in Kotor we were looking up at the massive rocky cliffs that soar up above the walled town and harbor. Kotor’s castle is built clinging to the cliffs with walls, turrets and chapels rising hundreds of feet up the cliffside, like something from Game of Thrones.
Charlie outside Kotor apartment, Montenegro
Kotor itself is a beautiful walled town with a harbor, in the gorgeous winding bay of Kotor, which is known as Boka. The market was in full swing when we walked around the town, which has bars, cafes and shops and is a proper functioning place that seems quite vibrant and inviting. I want to go back and sail around the bay.
Kotor, Montenegro
Kotor bay, Montenegro
This day’s drive was 320 kilometres up the coast, into Croatia, stopping off at Dubrovnik and then through Bosnia-Herzegovina and back into Croatia ending up in Split.
The first part of the journey was along the glorious, empty, winding road around the bay of Kotor in the winter sunshine. It was like going back in time and driving along the Cote d’Azur in the 1950’s Fab!
Not far up the road the joy of the day was rather spoiled when we come upon the traffic jam at the Croatian Border. These are both EU countries but this is a Police check and it takes one and a half frustrating hours to reach the front of the queue and to be waved through after a brief question.
Note to the Croatians, I would rather spend my time and money in one of your great cities than in a crummy traffic jam at the border, get it sorted out!
Our next stop was the old city of Dubrovnik, which was spectacularly empty, with the exception of a Japanese coach party. The old walled city is fascinating but is really a museum for tourists rather than a functioning city. There are bullet holes and other reminders of the 90’s Balkan conflict, which might explain the delays at the Montenegro border.
Dubrovnik, Croatia
Bullet holes in Dubrovnik, Croatia
Dubrovnik, Croatia
We carried on up the coast road to Bosnia-Herzegovina, which has a 20km strip of coastline, which we passed through without incident.
Arriving at the Croatian border there was another queue of traffic. No one seemed to be using the right hand lane with the green light so Charles zoomed straight up to the window by the barrier, only to be told off for running the police checkpoint! Luckily they decided it was too much hassle to send us back to the queue and so they let us go – result.
Later than we should have done thanks to the Police checks we arrived in Split.
Sunset on the Croatian coast
Tuesday 6th January
Split looked fantastic in the morning sun, with the white stone buildings and green palm trees of the waterfront highlighted by the clear blue skies.
Split, Croatia
Split, Croatia
Split, Croatia
We walked along the quayside, which is lined with bars and cafes and was bustling with people enjoying the Croatian National holiday. The old city and waterfront is lively and attractive and another place for the must re-visit list.
Split, Croatia, with Charles
Graffitti artist, Split, Croatia
In order to spend some time in Split we decided to take the motorway to Zagreb, our next destination 410 kilometres away. Croatia is a mountainous country and to drive cross-country would have taken too long.
The journey was pretty boring. Charlie could only maintain about 85km per hour on the flat and much less on the uphill sections.
As we headed inland it became colder with more snow lying on the ground and even along the sides of the motorway and by the time we arrived it was around minus 3.
Our apartment for the night was only a ten minute walk from the city centre but when we pulled up outside the rather grim looking block covered in graffiti we were a bit concerned especially at the prospect of leaving Charlie out in the street overnight.
Our overnight apartment in Zagreb
However our host Bo reassured us that the area was OK and then opened up the doors to the apartment block to reveal Charlie’s off street parking spot.
Following Bo’s suggestion we walked up to the old city and had a very good meal in a local bar, which brewed it’s own excellent beer.
Zagreb bar at night
The city is quite compact with a great atmosphere and is fantastic value for money.
Charlie in Zagreb
Zagreb station as featured in James Bond’s From Russia with Love
Trams in Zagreb
The following morning we did a speed tour of the city, loved the trams and the old town and the world’s biggest (and best) hot dog. In fact I think Zagreb is my new favourite city, it would be a perfect place to spend Christmas.
Wednesday 7th January
We spent the morning in Zagreb and then headed off for our shortest drive of the trip, a mere 140 kilometres to Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia.
The weather was wintry, with snow lying all around and it was after dark when we reached the city.
Charlie outside the National theatre
The Historic centre of Ljubljana straddles the river Ljubljanica and is overlooked by the hilltop castle Ljublianski Grad. The old city centre is very attractive and was festooned with the most fantastic Christmas lights I have ever seen.
Ljubljana lights
The lights were strung all along the streets and the riverside and the theme of the Christmas lights was Astrophysics! There were stars, spiral galaxies and meteor showers. Physics equations and graphs of string theory were all represented in the light displays hanging across the streets and squares and reflected in the river. It was coordinated, stylish and clever and definitely rocket science!
Ljubljana lights stars and galaxies
Ljubljana lights meteors
Ljubljana lights
Ljubljana lights physics graphs
Ljubljana lights
After a brisk walk around the city centre we stopped at a riverside bar for a drink. It was very cold and sitting outside might seem like a daft idea but the seats were covered in sheepskin and we sat under an electric heater with blankets over our knees, very cosy!
Thursday 8th January
We made an early start on the 250 kilometre drive from Ljubljana to Venice. It was cold and frosty in the morning, but as we drove into Italy the weather started to warm up and after 2000 kilometres of hills and mountains Charlie was enjoying the flat roads.
We crossed the bridge into Venice and tucked Charlie away on the seventh Piano of the multi-storey car park and lugged our bags to our apartment near the Campo del Ghetto, the original Jewish Ghetto area of the city.
Venice
Venetian dress shop – should fit
Venice is fabulous of course and, as every good tourist should, we caught the No.1 Vaporetto along the Grand Canal. It seemed expensive at 7 euros, but in fact it is quite a long and very slow cruise down Venice’s premier waterway and compared to everything else it is actually quite good value.
Venice
Venice
I had promised Charles the most expensive cup of coffee in the country and we duly headed for St Mark’s square and parked ourselves outside the Café Quadri in the watery sunlight. Unfortunately there was no orchestra playing, but then we were almost the only customers. A coffee a chocolate and two sandwiches for 48 Euros!
48 Euros worth in St Marks Square, Venice!
Feeling faint from the drain on my wallet we left St Marks and spent a few more hours wandering the streets of Venice, seeing as much of the city as we could in between essential beer stops. Just around the corner from the stunning Palazzo Cavalli Franchetti was a most unusual art gallery that caught our attention, have a look at the photos.
Mad art gallery in Venice
Mad art gallery in Venice
Venice Silly picture in the mad art gallery in Venice
We rounded the day off with a Pizza in a restaurant on the Grand Canal.
Friday 9th January
Today’s journey was around 400 kilometres to the ancient port of Genoa via Mantua and Cremona.
The day started off in bright sunshine but we very soon ran into thick fog. For the most part we saw nothing of the landscape, although I am told we didn’t miss much, it being rather industrialised and dreary. However the odd interesting town like Montagnana loomed out of the mist.
Charlie in Montagnana, Italy
By the time we arrived at Mantua the fog had cleared. This beautiful, unspoiled medieval town is known to the Italians as La Bella Addormentata (Sleeping beauty). It is almost entirely surrounded by lakes and is a UNESCO world heritage site.
Piazza Sordello, Mantua, Italy
We chugged into town and having had a quick look around decided to take some photos of Charlie in the Piazza Sordello at the heart of the old city, where there were a couple of cafes. There we met Mad Massimo, the motor mouth of Mantua. He was outside drumming up customers for the café, in his peaked hat. He never stopped talking and kept us entertained with his mad conspiracy theories and other fanciful stories whilst we enjoyed a sandwich and coffee.
Mad Massimo of Mantua, Italy
Massimo again
Our next stop an hour or so down the road was the city of Cremona. The central area of the city with its cobbled streets and ancient buildings is delightful. It boasts the third highest brick bell tower in Europe and a Romanesque cathedral with a 13th Century façade, which you can sit and contemplate from the handy café in Piazza Stradivari. This city is in fact renowned for violin manufacturers, the most famous of which is good old Stradivari himself. There are still violin makers working in the city and you can catch a glimpse of their craft in some of shops around the Piazza.
Brick bell tower Piazza Stradivari, Cremona, Italy
Bell tower clock, Piazza Stradivari, Mantua, Italy
From here we headed off toward Genoa. Having spent most of the day enjoying flat roads we had to climb over the coastal mountains as night fell and with Charlie’s brakes smoking slightly we rolled down the steep winding road into Genoa.
View from near our apartment , Genoa, Italy
Genoa skyline, Italy
Our overnight stop was a chic apartment in a pretty hilltop square overlooking more or less the whole of Genoa, including Via Garibaldi, part of the UNESCO World heritage site. We set off for an evening stroll along the street of extraordinary palaces and down to the Porto Antico.
Via Garibaldi, Genoa, Italy
Genoa is an attractive city sandwiched between the sea and the mountains. There are some steep streets and steps and we liked it, although it is slightly run down with a few dubious looking characters lurking in some of the alleyways and a fair amount of graffiti on some the world heritage buildings.
Stop spraying graffiti on historic buildings you philistines and get the place cleaned up, it’s a world heritage site and you need to make more effort!
Genoa, Italy
Genoa Palace, Italy
Genoa old customs house, Italy
Genoa Porto Antico, Italy
The Porto Antico isn’t. I’ve got shirts older than most of the stuff there. It is a renovated and pedestrianised harbor, which has been done quite nicely but it was rather quiet for a Friday night, I guess it is essentially a tourist area and the locals go elsewhere to eat and drink.
Saturday 10th January
The next morning we drove through Genoa and took the motorway towards France and our lunchtime stop in Monte Carlo. The weather was warm and sunny, what a change from a few days ago.
The motorway from Genoa is one of the more interesting ones, winding as it does along the coast with tunnels through the rocks at frequent intervals and views down to the sea in between. We got off the motorway at Ventimiglia and motored through the stylish town of Menton and along the winding roads to Monaco.
With the roof down Charlie set a new record around the Monte Carlo Grand Prix circuit, the slowest ever lap by a car. You can watch it on the video at the end of this blog!
Charlie takes on the Monte Carlo Grand Prix circuit
However we did get more looks than the common or garden Ferraris, which were pretty much everywhere, wedged between the Bentleys and Rolls Royce. In fact we had seen our first 2CV on the road earlier in the day and kept a count. By the end of our trip we had seen 8 2CVs and 15 Ferraris. So exclusive car, exclusive town, we fitted right in.
Charlie outside the casino, Monte Carlo, Monaco
Charles outside the casino, Monte Carlo, Monaco
After a bite to eat and a drink in a café overlooking the harbor full of extravagant Yachts we took a walk around (faster lap time than Charlie) and then set off along the Cote d’Azur towards Cannes where we planned to watch the sun set over the sea.
Charles at sunset, Cannes, France
Charlie at sunset, Cannes, France
The drive was really pleasant until we got near Antibes, where despite being mid winter, the road was snarled up with traffic. We eventually crept into Cannes just in time and after a walk along the beach settled into our seats in an overpriced pavement café to watch the sun set. Apart from the annoying Russian drunk and the lousy service it was perfect.
Watching the world go by, Cannes, France
From Cannes we had an uneventful trip to Aix en Provence to complete the 370 kilometre journey.
Sunday 11th January
We left our overnight halt in Aix en Provence early for the 280 kilometre trip via Nimes, which is a rather beautiful little city, to our main objective for the day, which was the Millau Viaduct.
Millau Bridge, France
I had always wanted to drive over this 10 year old bridge, which for those of you who are not familiar with it is one of the biggest in the world. Designed by Norman Foster it is nearly 2.5 km long and 343 metres high – that’s more than 1,100 feet high!
Small car big bridge, Millau Bridge, France
I had forgotten how much fun driving in France could be if you avoid the motorways and main roads. Through Provence and along the virtually empty winding roads of the Languedoc countryside slow was definitely the way to go.
We are all Charlie! On the Millau Bridge, France
We had to get back onto the motorway to cross the Millau Viaduct. It’s BIG! It’s a long way down to the valley below from which the bridge looks even more impressive.
Well what did you expect!
Having driven across and paid our toll we headed down to the valley to take some photos, where we came upon John from Performance Bike magazine doing the same thing. It’s a kind of tourist industry all of it’s own.
Kevin Taking pics for Performance Bike Magazine, Millau Bridge, France
From Millau we drove north toward the Auvergne and our overnight stop in a farmhouse, 800 metres up in the Lozere mountains.
Cold comfortable farm, France
On the way there we were intrigued by a sign for “Pointe Sublime” and decided to follow it. A few kilometers later and wow! It really was a “Pointe Sublime” perched a thousand feet above the Gorges of the Tarn, which cut through the landscape like a small scale Grand canyon is a viewing area from which we watched the sun go down.
Monday 12th January.
It was a very frosty morning and it took some time to warm up an icy Charlie before we could bid goodbye to our charming host and set off for today’s journey of just under 500 kilometres.
Chilly Charlie, France
It was miles before the white covering finally melted from Charlie’s bonnet, by which time we were well on our way to the Volcanoes of the Auvergne.
Chilly Charlie and the frosty view. France
Again we were chugging through lovely countryside along virtually empty roads and through the mountainous volcanic region to the highest point on the trip at 1,145 metres.
The high point of the trip!
From there we continued north into the Massif Central and past the spectacular wrought iron Garabit railway viaduct designed in the 1880’s by Monsieur Eiffel of the tower fame.
One of Monsieur Eiffel’s efforts. Garabit, France
Just before sunset we arrived at our friend Jackie’s house a little way north of Limoges to be welcomed with a gin and tonic, perfect.
Tuesday 13th January
From Jackie’s it was a fairly straightforward run home of 670 kilometres, a journey that I had done many times, although usually much faster.
Homeward bound
Charlie doesn’t really like motorways and so we kept to the country roads. It was going to be a long day’s drive with the wind and rain increasing. Luckily the wind was mostly behind us, you modern car drivers have no idea what a difference a strong headwind can make to a 2CV.
Tee hee!
Apart from a shock absorber coming loose, which we were quickly able to rectify, it was a fairly uneventful drive, we even made it to the Eurotunnel early and although we got a few slightly puzzled looks made it through customs without incident.
Charlie is now recovering from his pan European New Year sprint in his temporary garage home. After 4,500 kilometres through 10 countries in 10 days he deserves it.
Our whistle-stop tour looks even more impressive at high speed. HIgh speed video, that is.. not high speed Charlie! If you are built more for comfort than speed – you can enjoy the sedate pace of the photo slideshow after the movie!