9 February 1986
These Chinese guardian lions are at the entrance to a buddhist temple somewhere in Chinatown.
Moved on to Chinatown. Walked around the gambling stalls and clothes stalls (50 cents admission each place). Then around the beautifully lit streets, impressive neon pictures of tigers – the Chinese year of the tiger.
Varanasi 25 May 1986
Took a dawn boat ride on the Ganges. The oarsman took me on a leisurely one hour trip to each end of the ghats. Surprised to see Gangetic dolphins breaching the surface. Tranquil scenes of people bathing, pilgrims offering puja and dhobi wallah’s beating the laundry before the heat of the day builds.
Mt Bromo, Java. 17 December 1985
Setting off in the pre-dawn darkness I walked from the caldera rim where the village of Cemoro Lawang is perched down into a barren lava field. I only had to follow the flickering kerosene lamps from horses that carried tourists. Above me a brilliant starscape, in front of me the silhouette of the classic volcanic cone shape of Gunung Batok, with Mt Bromo next to it crumpled from eruptions and surrounding me a vast outer caldera, the Tengger massif.
It seemed appropriate to play the spookily atmospheric track “Brilliant trees” by David Sylvian on my walkman. Pink hues to the east from the dawn light revealed the classic volcanic shape of Mt Semeru, releasing a smoky ash cloud. At 3,700m it’s Java’s highest peak.
At the top of Mt Bromo I looked down to the dormant crater and then walked right around the rim. There’s a good account of this area and photos here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Bromo
I climbed Uluru – or ‘Ayer’s Rock’ as it was called then – on the 11th of August 1985 in 29 minutes. There were no signs advising not to climb and the national park was yet to be handed back to the Anangu traditional owners (it did later that year in October – see https://parksaustralia.gov.au/uluru/pub/fs-handback.pdf).
The rock is as large and awe-inspiring as its made out to be. Had lunch under some trees. Then walked to the far side, up and down ridges. Almost a martian landscape, rock was crumbling and coming off in layers. A few rock pools about.
Came across a pair of Wedge-tailed eagles preening. I stalked them with my telephoto and got pretty close before they took off. Captured them in flight.
Only one other group up there when I came down at 5.30pm. A brilliant deep red colour underfoot as the sun descended – I didn’t want to get off.
The 7 day visa backpackers shuffled into the carriage of the train from Rangoon to Thazi. We found our tickets entitled us to…floor space. Never mind, only a 12 hour overnight journey… on a crammed – full train… in the middle of the hottest month of the year. It was still the week of the water festival associated with the Burmese new year, Thingyan, and periodically a bucketful of water would be hurled through one of the open windows of the carriage drenching those sitting on the bench seats. After the initial shock it didn’t take long for everyone to break out laughing.
The local Burmese families were kind to us floor dwellers and shared their food. I shared my walkman and judging by the faces it was the first time they had ever experienced music by headphones. Or maybe it was to do with the Eurythmics…
At 6am it was time to disembark at Thazi & make our way to the bus station on the other side of town by local taxi – a horse and cart. The bus turned out to be a Datsun bemo that was already full. There were no less than 27 men, women and children piled in! I climbed onto the roof to escape the packed-in-like-sardines horror below. On top were large trunks, all the backpacks and 6 other backpackers.
Heat and sunburn be damned – it was a commanding view up top as we slowly made our way across flat, baking, featureless plains. Periodically the driver would stop and we’d clamber off as he crawled under the vehicle to tap on the rear axle with a wrench. A technique obviously learnt from bitter experience. But what was he going to do if it was cracked – abandon us in the middle of nowhere? There were few other vehicles on the road.
After 5 hours finally a vista of temples dotting the landscape at Pagan (now Bagan). Got off weary and dizzy from the heat, found the Sitthu guesthouse, drank water from an earthenware jug by mistake – “for the Burmese” and spent the night throwing up from both ends…