Andy HiggsAndy Higgs – Product & design leadership, travel and tech.2020-01-30T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/Andy HiggsBudapest Thermals2020-01-30T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/budapest-thermals/<h3 id="gell%C3%A9rt-baths">Gellért Baths <a class="direct-link" href="https://andyhiggs.uk/posts/budapest-thermals/#gell%C3%A9rt-baths">#</a></h3>
<p>A mineral air floats over the waters and through the corridors of Gellért baths; a grandly carved block of imperial sandstone that still kneels on the edge of the Danube.</p>
<p>It’s two ceramic-lined bath halls are located on either side of the lap pool. These rooms are tall, teal-coloured, humid, and they echo with the warm slop of enriched water and hushed voices. A blue winter light strains through waffle-grid skylights in the barrelled roof.</p>
<p>A dozen bathers are poaching below.</p>
<p>Glazed studs the size of tennis balls hold the sea blue tiles to the walls. A black on white mosaic states the temperature - 36C°. A half dozen pierced cast iron roundels the size of drain covers hang like ancient coats of arms somewhere up near the gods. They are thickly painted with colourful flowers. Art nouveau patterns spill over the floor, walls, ceiling and form over the undulated walls that form cubicles for the poolside showers.</p>
<p>Tubular brass rails guide bathers into the water, where bulbous stalactites drip from the burbling spring heads at each end of the hall.</p>
<p>The central lap pool is all height, palms, and turquoise. Simple tiles and old gold clocks hang from the curved walls, and the mineral fur of the warm fountains dull the pedestals.</p>
<p>Lamps glow a Lalique white, opalescent like the ghostly turtle shells, set in their grimy copper mountings.</p>
<h3 id="rudas-baths">Rudas Baths <a class="direct-link" href="https://andyhiggs.uk/posts/budapest-thermals/#rudas-baths">#</a></h3>
<p>The octagonal pool at Rudas baths lies in the heart of rich red stone domed vault, stuffed with a thick steam. It’s impossible to see much more than the faded upper of the eight arches surrounding it, which are silhouetted by the warmth of simple hanging lamps that struggle through the fog.</p>
<p>Bathers recline on the shallow steps into the four corner pools. Like the water, these steps cascade downwards in every direction. The great central octagonal pool is lined with slabs of blood orange stone, except the floor which radiates broad, hypnotic bands of black and white marble.</p>
<p>The canopy of the dome that floats above it is pierced in six concentric rings, and each little skylight is capped with a pane of hexagonal coloured glass creating a small hazy light; rose, apple green, violet, yellow, grey, blood, lime and clear.</p>
<p>The place feels elemental. It's easy to believe little would have felt or looked different in this room in 1517 when the Turkish first set it out.</p>
<p>A marble inscription celebrates the centuries it’s seen; it is set into the wall just above the ever-flowing Juve spring, and between two thin ancient doorways which are crowned with mismatched Arabic arches, and open out into the steam rooms and saunas respectively.</p>
<p>Lying on your chest stretched over the steps of one of the cooler corner pools, facing the centre of the room and your back to the fount, you can watch the light ripple in the carved alcove above your head.</p>
<p>If you lower yourself far enough into the water here, you can no longer see anyone; the fog hangs in the arches and all you can hear is the echos of Hungarian conversations from under the great dome, around the corner founts, and the steam-filled chambers beyond.</p>
The Night Riviera to Cornwall2019-06-03T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/the-night-riviera-to-cornwall/<p>For some reason, the idea of a proper bed on a train has always appealed to me. It feels like “real travel”, I suppose.</p>
<p>I’ve been on sleeper services twice before, both abroad; once aboard a navy blue sardine tin – from Gorukpur south to New Delhi – and once inside a four berth tangerine-lined couchette, which filled up with the pink light of the Moroccan sunrise on the way to Marakesh.</p>
<p>This time I had the chance to take the trip on home turf. A rare thing; there are (at time of this journey) only two trains in the UK that offer a sleeper service. One is the Caledonian Sleeper, which runs from London Euston to north Scotland. The other is the slow Night Riviera; from London Paddington down through Devon and Cornwall to Penzance.</p>
<p>The south west of England is one of my “most favourite” places; it’s notoriously difficult to get there in any reasonable amount of time compared to the rest of the country and it’s remoteness appeals to me deeply. It reminds me of childhood holidays, long warm summer nights, trips out on the sea, sunshine. In the last few years my trips has been infrequent - and this scarcity almost certainly makes the trips even sweeter.</p>
<p>I wasn’t really aware of the Cornish sleeper service until the end of last year, however I discovered it at the same time that the whole service had been given an overhaul in very early 2019.</p>
<p>The tickets go on sale three months in advance; and I’d heard they sell out very quickly for the cabins. I checked availability and by chance, that 90 days out, the next available opportunity to snatch an early bird would be for the early May bank holiday. I did a quick search, saw there was limited remaining availability, and snapped up a cabin with twin bunks.</p>
<p>There is of course the option to have a normal train seat for the duration of the journey, but given you would deprive yourself the bed and the buffet cart, I couldn’t see any fun in that.</p>
<p>Because you end up with a hotel room on tracks and the majority of the travel is done while you sleep, the great benefit is you don’t waste time during waking hours when you could be enjoying the destination, and of course you get to enjoy the novelty and excitement of the journey itself.</p>
<p>Johnny and I caught our train from Reading, at around 00:45. The train starts out from Paddington, but this stop made more sense for us, though it did mean we didn’t get the benefit of the GWR lounge in London, yet the fare was effectively the same.</p>
<p>We were the only two people getting on at the station, and the attendant did us a personalised run through of the room. Contactless key-card operated locks, smart cabins, neat bunk beds, crisp bedlinens, many USB ports, power, window blind, a genuinely useful set of lighting options, compact ladder, free bottle of water etc. Cosy and clean.</p>
<p>The attendant explained the bar was open all night, with complimentary hot drinks and snacks served for the duration. If you want too, an optional wake up and breakfast service. I opted for orange juice, tea, croissants, muesli - although due to the times the trains operate, that does mean a wake up call at not much after 6am.</p>
<p>It was already past midnight, but it would also have been rude not to make the most of the empty bar on the train, and so went and enjoyed a quick nightcap.</p>
<p>The train looks magnificent; the deep green GWR livery is a /very nice thing/, and they’ve done a good job on the fitout in the buffet carriage (as with everything else inside the train). Plenty of space, nice mix of seating including sofas, booths and paired seating, a bar with bar stools. It’s a shame other train services don’t benefit from some of this magic, it felt very novel, but I suppose it wouldn’t feel so magical if you encountered it on every train.</p>
<p>Another benefit of travelling so soon after the carriages have been refitted is that nothing is broken or worn-out yet. The whole feel is really smart. If you like the idea of taking this journey, I’d highly recommend doing it sooner rather than later. The comments I’d read about other sleeper services in the British Isles always suggest they suffer from tiredness after many years of hard labour, so a good reason to demonstrate some urgency to enjoy it before the crispness fades a little.</p>
<p>Three small details to be aware of in the cabin. Firstly, there is a proper basin in there, but you might not know if - like when we arrived - the removable table top that covers it is stacked with magazines and other things that you have no other place to move them to. It wasn’t until the morning we realised we’d missed it entirely.</p>
<p>Secondly, the wardrobe is thin - useful for storing a threadbare shirt, or maybe some loose water biscuits. However it’s also the place you can find a couple of bottles of water, so worth opening and poking around for those freebies.</p>
<p>And finally, as you might imagine - the cabin really isn’t very large. Although the idea of breakfast in the room is fun, the reality of the exercise taking into account the movement of the train and two people sharing the space, it all had a gymnastic quality I really hadn’t expected.</p>
<p>That said, the yellow sunrise through the window over the coast and the rising splendour of St Michael’s Mount between the sand dunes and the blue ribbon of the English Channel means it’s worth every second.</p>
Integrate acquires Akkroo2019-04-04T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/integrate-acquires-akkroo/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/team-apr-2019.jpg" alt="Integrate acquires Akkroo" />
<p>Having gone a number of weeks now without being able to talk about some exciting personal news, I’m delighted to finally share that as of today, <a href="https://akkroo.com/">Akkroo</a> has been acquired by <a href="https://integrate.com/">Integrate Inc.</a></p>
<p>Over the last 5 years alongside the Akkroo team, <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/chris-wickson">Chris</a> and I have spent building up our business and the Event Lead Capture category, we’ve rarely dwelt on the future too much. However, there were a few times where we felt it was possible that Akkroo might one day find itself as an attractive proposition to a bigger technology player. It always seemed that if it happened at all, it would occur several years down the line. </p>
<p>So when in the summer of 2018 <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/jeremybloom11/">Jeremy Bloom</a>, Integrate’s founder and CEO, reached out to us and put the proposal to us that perhaps we could be a stronger force in-market by uniting, it’s fair to say we were a little taken aback.</p>
<p>Since then, and over the last few months, Chris and I have been fortunate to be able to get to know Jeremy and the leadership team of Integrate well. They are the leading light in the B2B Demand Orchestration software category, and as we talked with them, we found a real shared view of the challenges of business events and related, broader “top of funnel” problems inside B2B lead acquisition and management today. That shared view is ultimately what helped bring us to this exciting moment.</p>
<p>If we had not quickly realised that we shared a high degree of base cultural alignment, or a clear fit in our vision, this would not have been something we would have entertained. However, the more time we spent with their team both in London and Phoenix where Integrate are headquartered, the more it felt like a natural union, with the potential for a greater outcome should we work together.</p>
<h3 id="forakkroocustomerseventleadcapture">For Akkroo Customers & Event Lead Capture</h3>
<p>The great upshot of this for our customers is that we can further accelerate on our mission to modernise the outdated state of mobile event lead capture & management in businesses across the world. </p>
<p>We <a href="https://blog.akkroo.com/akkroo-event-lead-capture-raises-series-a/">raised some funds last year</a> using a non-traditional investment route, and set a course to expand further into US markets and develop our product offerings. By binding onto Integrate, we now have even more wind in our sails, greater expertise to help build out our vision, and immediate access to a number of global locations from which to base our operations.</p>
<p>We also have come to understand another growing force in marketing technology — Integrate’s Demand Orchestration solution — and our coming-together affords customers (and future prospects) of both firms incredible new product possibilities, which we will talk more about in the coming months. </p>
<p>So often a merger or acquisition is the end of the journey, but this is very much the opposite for Akkroo. Chris and I had established a very clear view of the future before this opportunity emerged, and this now helps us to crystallise it and increase our joint odds of success. </p>
<h3 id="forakkroosteam">For Akkroo’s team</h3>
<p>For the whole Akkroo team, this is a big moment to celebrate. We’ve grown to 50 people strong, and for me it’s an honour to spend my days working alongside some of the most talented individuals in their field in Europe. Now as we lock arms with Integrate and their team, as individuals we will all benefit from spending time with some of the most experienced minds and respected individuals working in SaaS, but on other side of the Atlantic. For me personally, this is one of the most exciting prospects for the days and years ahead.</p>
<p>Our whole team will greatly benefit from the cross-pollination of ideas, the prospect of new opportunities to travel, new opportunities for personal growth, and the broadening of networks and experiences. </p>
<p>Building successful businesses to scale is hard, and Chris and I are incredibly grateful to each of our team for investing a significant proportion of their time and livelihood into helping us take on this mission.</p>
<p>What’s really extraordinary is that we completed the whole process of coming together in a shade over 3 months; an epic undertaking and a reflection of the joint desire to execute and not delay a moment longer than needed. </p>
<p>I’m very much looking forward to being part of this new, expanded organisation and embarking on the next leg of our journey together.</p>
In Costa Rica2018-11-01T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-costa-rica/<p>Steamy and moss-like, a blanket of green tumbles into the valley, down to the ocean’s edge. It puffs up about the tree trunks. Flat palm leaves open out like giant fat fingers. Clouds of mist gently levitate upwards from the canopy.</p>
<p>The Pacific is the only straight line in view. Perfectly horizontal, it scores the softly grey-green sea away from a duck egg sky. A fine brushstroke of cloud sits just over the water.</p>
<p>Toucans appear once a day, and rasp their hollow beaks against the branches on which they stand. They pick at fruits and appear in clear profile against the pale sky.</p>
<p>The whirr of crickets, bark of macaws and chirrups of other small birds repeat, and dome-headed vultures spin in rising eddies.</p>
<p>There are bugs here, but they keep themselves to themselves. None of them want to share my ice cold lemonade, or strong black coffee.</p>
Tips for hiring for entirely new roles2018-07-21T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/tips-for-hiring-for-new-roles/<p>We’re now a 35 person team at <a href="https://akkroo.com/">Akkroo</a>, and in the last two years, we’ve hired a lot of people into roles with job descriptions that hadn’t existed in the business previously. </p>
<p>Clarifying a new role often presents a dilemma, as it’s sometimes hard to assess what exactly you’re looking for when there’s no existing definition of that role within the organisation.</p>
<p>While there fewer than 15 people at Akkroo, this wasn’t really much of an issue because everyone was more or less a generalist, however as we approached 20 in the team, it really started to become noticeable that we needed a tighter process around creating new job specs.</p>
<p>What usually prompts the need to hire someone into an entirely new role is usually the identification of bunch of “rogue responsibilities” which start to accumulate with one or more individuals in the team (or are not handled by anyone at all), and it becomes obvious that it’s becoming less and less sustainable for it to be left this way. </p>
<p>Sometimes it’s pretty obvious what the role should be, however, most of the time we don’t have a 100% accurate picture right away. It’s hardest when you aren’t an expert in a particular field but are still responsible for hiring the right person.</p>
<p>The technique I use for dealing with these situations is three part.</p>
<p>Part 1 is to draw up a broad and exhaustive list of all the responsibilities that seem to be accumulating in this “gap”. For example, we recently created a list for an emerging challenge around a build up in legal work and on our list were things like “assisting with contracts” (something a number of us had to get involved with in the past, including external counsel) and “investigating and achieving relevant international business standards” (something we want to do, but no one inside the team is really equipped to own it). A good list of responsibilities should be quite long, and shouldn’t be edited down quite yet. </p>
<p>Once I’ve got a comprehensive list of responsibilities, I then work together with other teammates to establish what's essential and what's a nice to have. We also identify which skills are unlikely to be found together in one person (for example it’s rare to find someone who is truly exceptional both operationally /and/ strategically). </p>
<p>That usually means the final list gets split into two. When we write the job spec we now have two useful lists to include. If some of the initially listed responsibilities are not included in the job spec that's fine, we now have a remainder list and can look to solve that challenge separately.</p>
<p>Part 2 is research into existing, well-understood job titles. Once you’ve got a defined list of responsibilities, it’s much easier now to ask around and try and choose a sensible title to market it under. In our example above, it became clear what we needed was a Contracts & Compliance Manager (the first time we’ve hired for such a role). If you don’t do this research into existing role names, you can invent a great job title that no one is looking for, and you’d be lucky to find the right person because no one is searching for it. It’s worth remembering it’s quite unlikely you are really the first person to ever have encountered this set of circumstances before, so you need a really great reason to reinvent the wheel when you title a new role.</p>
<p>Part 3 is to seek out results orientated candidates. I think this is good advice for any hire, however in cases where you cannot yourself judge the quality of a person in a role because you are no more expert than they will be (like in the case of Contracts & Compliance, as I am not a lawyer) there are two obvious options: either train-up to become an expert yourself so you <em>can</em> make that judgement call — or the more realistic option, which is find candidates who are great at expressing how they measure success and failure. </p>
<p>For example, with the Contracts & Compliance Manager role, where I am no qualified legal expert, it was critical to find someone who could clearly evaluate their own performance and easily communicate it to a layperson. </p>
<p>Therefore I wanted to find an individual who when asked “what does success look like?” doesn’t give me a list of the tasks they know how to complete well, but instead illustrates a clear understanding about <em>why</em> those tasks are indicators for success in the role, and how they would measure them, so I can share in that evaluation easily.</p>
<p>What’s great is this turns out to be a great razor. Half the people know how to do this sort of self-evaluation well, and half the people do not. As a consequence, we tend to hire people in the second category.</p>
<p><em>Worth mentioning: we are actively hiring for a number of roles at Akkroo right now. If you’re open to a new challenge and would enjoy working in a smart, kind, growing team who are helping businesses across the world to modernise event lead capture at trade shows and exhibitions, please <a href="https://akkroo.com/jobs">check out our jobs page</a>.</em></p>
How to make introductions2018-06-04T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/how-i-make-introductions/<p>I recently shared with the team at Akkroo my method for responding to requests for introductions. <a href="https://vito.tardia.me/">Vito</a> suggested that perhaps others might also like to read this too, so that's why I've shared a copy here. I would prefix this advice by saying that my approach has been heavily influenced by the types of introductions I've seen made by <a href="https://joel.is/">Joel</a> from Buffer make in the past, and which I feel are some of the best I've seen.</p>
<p>For me, it's a two step process:</p>
<ol>
<li><p>If I’m asked to make an intro to someone I know, I always check with the person I’m being asked to make the introduction to beforehand. It’s really uncomfortable to find yourself being asked to do something “cold” especially when you don’t want to; and it's disrespectful of their time to involve someone in a process they don't choose to be part of. It also often makes the relationship awkward later if the ask can’t be met, so I generally make a courtesy enquiry in advance to check I’m not asking too much.</p></li>
<li><p>If I get approval, I use this email format - by which time everyone is already expecting the email:</p></li>
</ol>
<hr />
<p>Subject: Kim <—> Donald <br />
<em>[Note: In the subject, I put the name of person who asked for the introduction in second place; as Dale Carnegie says in How To Win Friends & Influence People, the most important sound in the world to someone is their own name, so prioritise the name of the person you're making the request of]</em> <br />
From: andy@akkroo.com <br />
To: donald@usa.com, kim@dprk.com</p>
<p>Hi Kim & Donald,</p>
<p>I hope you are both well! I’d just like to take the time to introduce the two of you as having chatted with you both in the last few days, I think you could find some common ground together.</p>
<p>@Kim - I’ve known Donald since [his time on the Apprentice TV show]. He’s [a really enthusiastic guy] and he asked me if I knew anyone who could help with [the nuclear disarmament of the Korean Peninsular]. I thought you’d be the best guy to speak to.</p>
<p>@Donald - Kim is Supreme Leader of the DPRK and [very knowledgable about the nuclear capabilities of North Korea]. I’ve known him for many years and is a very smart guy. <em>[Note: The aim here is to encourage the person making the “ask" gives due respect to the person I'm introducing them too. It’ll be my reputation on the line if I make a poor introduction or waste someone's time.]</em></p>
<p>Hopefully there is some value in you knowing each other. @Donald, perhaps you could reach out and share what you’re looking for? Kim is very busy, however having chatted with him a little already, I hopeful he can help. <em>[Note: I always propose a next step for the person “asking" at the end of the email since they are the one getting the favour done, and it also means no one is left guessing what should happen next.]</em></p>
<p>Hope to see you both soon,</p>
<p>Andy </p>
Cuba2018-03-04T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/cuba/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/IMG_7580.JPG" alt="Cuba" />
<p>I have a large, plump mound of ice in a fancy glass - a <em>daqueri</em> - and it slumps like a hot, drunken snowman into its bath of triple sec, sugar and rum. "<em>Ron</em>", as the locals call it. </p>
<p>As every minute passes, he snoozes further downwards into the boozey puddle. The view over central Havana from the roof top of the Hotel Saratoga is complete. It’s 28 degrees, perhaps even a little warmer; the pool is rippling gently.</p>
<p>Caribbean blue sky slips down behind the mango groves. A fondant-yellow church, and a slab of ocean fills the gaps along the horizon.</p>
<p>Broken tarmac floods up the roadside kerbs, and chunky pavements wash up around the feet of squat colonial relics which face the wonky squares and up-down streets of Old Havana. </p>
<p>The tumble-down buildings sit together like grand old ladies made up in powder blues, pinks and yellows, and they drip in ornamental lace and pearl plasterwork. Years of overpainting have marshmallowed any hint of the once-crisp friezework. Not an inch has escaped a good, soft and thick coat of pastel.</p>
<p>Jalopies putt-putt their way along the grand boulevard running from the domed <em>Capitolio</em> down to the <em>Malécon</em>; hotly pursued by the lead-filled plumes they blow. Seventy year old Chevvies and Buicks wheeze about in chrome and scarlet, royal purple, mustard, watermelon green and hot tangerine.</p>
<p>Chequerboard-playing pensioners perch on the kerbs under the tall marble arcades that fringe walls of the grand but musty municipal buildings, and cheeky taxi <em>jineteros</em> tout for work.</p>
<p>Down the boulevard, the top floor ballroom of the century old sky scraping Hotel Sevillia shines out through its Versaillian windows. Its vast columned lobby is filled with bottle green and orange tiles which are held against the walls by ancient grout and the swell of old cigar smoke. </p>
<p>You can perch upon one of a dozen uncomfortable sofas here (the springs gave up many years ago), drink something strong and listen to <em>Guantanamera</em> again, imagining the parties when Al Capone used to rent the whole place out for the weekend.</p>
Alexa, Alexa… ALEXA!2017-12-16T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/alexa-alexa-alexa/<p>I purchased an <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01DFKBL68/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=6738&creativeASIN=B01DFKBL68&linkCode=as2&tag=aajhiggs-21&linkId=2247e0bd048375bd2edc453ad1b2f4c9">Amazon Echo Dot</a> in the first few days of 2017, and use it daily. This is my review of the best and worst of my experiences, and some insight into what kind of milage you can get out of a voice based home assistant.</p>
<h2 id="barrierstoentry">Barriers to entry</h2>
<p>A key factor in how much I use my Dot is because of the location and "earshot" of the device. Thankfully, my apartment is relatively small and pretty much open plan, so I can engage Alexa from most places. That’s been really good because - aside from in the bathroom - it's universally available for me to call on wherever I am. This might be a problem in a more traditional home space where there are lots of walls and corners to contend with.</p>
<p>Another thing that might prevent someone from getting full use from it is having to learn and recall the sequences you need to to get it to do something reliably. Most are simple, some are entirely forgettable. </p>
<p>Some requests I put to it daily, some things I only ask once a month. I remember the less frequently used commands poorly - this is very similar to my experience of complex mobile device gestures - for example I never can remember in the heat of the moment how to split the screen on an iPad, and so I generally forget the feature exists.</p>
<h2 id="howigetonwithspecificskills">How I get on with specific Skills</h2>
<p>Examples of some skills I use very frequently are for lighting control, music, to do items and shopping. Here's a more detailed breakdown of my experience.</p>
<h3 id="music">Music</h3>
<p>I have Alexa hooked up to my <a href="https://spotify.com/">Spotify</a> collection. So I know I can say “Alexa, play the Spotify playlist ‘Sunday Mornings’”, and it will. </p>
<p>However I don’t really want to say all that. It feels very unintuitive to have to mention the brand of the player when all my music is in one place. Thankfully I can use short-form like “Alexa, play my ‘Sunday Mornings’ playlist”. These short form commands often work, but sometimes not.</p>
<p>For example, if you say “Alexa, play” — which is a similar shortcut — in theory it will start my Spotify music where I left off because in settings you can swap your Amazon music for Spotify as the default player. However, one in a dozen times, it tries to play the selection of just 10 or so tracks I have in my Amazon Music library. And because of this quirk, I’m now /really/ sick of hearing that one album when it gets it wrong. </p>
<p>Once it starts playing from that incorrect music library, I have to issue another, very specific Spotify command to correct it - which makes the situation feel even more convoluted. The thing is, I never want Alexa to use my Amazon’s music library or hear those tracks again, but Alexa continues to dip at random into it’s own Amazon library every so often, despite the default music service being set to Spotify.</p>
<p>This feels like some kind of long-standing bug. I certainly can’t explain why it switches between the two libraries, but being able to say “Alexa, play” is so much more like the experience it should be than needing to remember to say “Alexa, play Spotify” which just over-complicates something which should be buttery and simple.</p>
<p>Another minor complaint from a heavy user of the music feature - Spotify really struggles to deal with certain playlist names. It sometimes feels like I spend more time re-naming playlists than creating them, just to get Alexa to be able to understand them. And some I can’t control at all, for example, “Vacation Haus” - an official Spotify playlist - and that is never recognised when I say “Alexa, play Vacation Haus”. </p>
<p>I assume this is because Amazon is trying to find something called “Vacation House”, and of course, there’s no match for that. Some other problems I’ve had with Alexa recognising all my existing playlist names: year numbers (e.g. 2016), abbreviations (e.g. NYE), and just some words like ”Loft”.</p>
<p>The most infuriating ones are when you ask for a specific artist or track and you don’t get it. For example, ask “Alexa, play music by Toots and the Maytals” and you get songs by some other strange artist entity called “11 Toots and the Maytals“, which isn’t the real band and I assume some kind of categorisation error or typo somewhere in one of the systems, but I can’t get around that. Alexa will never play me the artist I’m asking for in this case, and I don’t know how to fix it. I just want to put on some ska!</p>
<h3 id="todolists">To Do Lists</h3>
<p>I use (and recommend) the excellent <a href="https://todoist.com/">Todoist</a> app, and the associated Alexa Skill. Amazon allows you to replace the default Todo skill with Todoist skill which is great, so I didn’t have to change my behaviour when I started using it in the middle of the year. I can say “Alexa, add pick up my suit from the dry cleaners to my todo list”, and it feels sublime.</p>
<p>Todoist is also capable of replacing the default shopping list functionality (which is great, because accessing the list you’ve created via the Alexa iOS app is a bit of a second-rate experience). That leads me nicely on to…</p>
<h3 id="shopping">Shopping</h3>
<p>I’m a regular <a href="https://justbeyondthebridge.co.uk/alexa-alexa-alexa/h">Ocado</a> shopper, and they recently released a skill for ordering from them, however anything that allows you to directly place an order for something with (probably) a 60% chance of it being the actual you wanted means I’ve been nervous about using it in anger.</p>
<p>When I shop online on Amazon, Ocado or anywhere, I tend to browse, compare, select and purchase. If I had to characterise my shopping behaviour, I’d say it’s relatively ‘involved’. It’s therefore very difficult for Amazon or Ocado to second guess that accurately, although my browsing and buying history hopefully is being used to figure some of that out. </p>
<p>I don’t want to miss out on a deal that might be running on a similar product, and to be honest if I have listen to a list of 10 audio-described options before I try and pick one, it’s going to be easier for me to pick up my iPad and do it visually.</p>
<p>I therefore haven’t really been using the Ocado skill yet (it’s only been out a couple of weeks), and instead I continue to rely on the excellent default Shopping List feature. By saying “Alexa, add cheese”, I get precisely what I want, specifically added to my Shopping List, ready for my weekly shop, right inside Todoist. This feels magical, and I cannot tell you how much this has changed my behaviour in recording these items. No more stopping and washing my hands repeatedly to go and write something down on paper, I just say it. The accuracy rate seems pretty high too. There have been a few challenges that have tripped Alexa up; I once added “Baileys” and got “Babies”, “Cordial” gave me “Cold eels“, “Custard” became “Corset”, and “Hollandaise Sauce” returned the interesting sounding “Holiday Sauce”. But generally this is not a big problem.</p>
<p>One thing it’s not very good at though is stringing multiple requests together. For example, “Alexa, add ham and cheese” will create one item, and waiting between each list item can be frustrating when you have two or three items to add, but in reality this is something you can fudge around at the moment - it’s not a massive inconvenience to have two items listed on the same checklist item in the app - but naturally, I’d love to see that improve in time.</p>
<h3 id="homeautomation">Home Automation</h3>
<p>A few years ago, the only really integrated modern home automation options were lighting controls like Philips Hue, but now there is much more selection, and although you can choose to start a collection of devices from a specific range if you want (e.g. SmartThings, Hive etc), it’s much easier now to mix and match /without/ the requirement of needing a specific additional hub for each collection.</p>
<p>In my implementation, I’ve avoided the need for a hub all together. As much as Hue appealed, it was going to be devilishly expensive to run out across my apartment. Not only would I need to replace every bulb and buy a hub, which is pricey in itself, the major additional cost would have been changing all my light fittings over as Hue only supports certain fixtures. For example, I have 12 down-lighters in my kitchen, and none are compatible with Hue out of the box. </p>
<p>Another factor is, some of my banks of lights simply don’t need dimming capability, and without replacing some of my transformers, I wouldn’t be able to get some of them to benefit from that functionality even if I wanted. I was keen to find a solution that worked for me, so instead I took a piecemeal approach and have built my own solution from different components.</p>
<p>I started with <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B009SA9Z6S/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=6738&creativeASIN=B009SA9Z6S&linkCode=as2&tag=aajhiggs-21&linkId=014857e3ad4eca3d8e70d7ed19dcfda4">Wemo smart plugs</a> for a couple of freestanding lamps in my apartment. This gave me my first major wow moment; I cannot tell you how satisfying it is to turn things on an off with a word or two - and I was hooked after that.</p>
<p>Lighting hardware is the area I’ve invested in most heavily since getting the Dot. I found an inline relay that I could use to convert my kitchen lights to be compatible with Alexa, and getting into that challenge also prompted me to spend money on replacing all my old 20W and 50W bulbs (a legacy of the prior owner) with far more energy efficient 3W LED bulbs. So even the ones I couldn’t automate immediately were at least a little more environmentally friendly. </p>
<p>The area I am excited about most is window blind control, however it is also the one I’ve made least progress on. I have five roller blinds that I want to control automatically, but the products available on the market today are either highly-involved (not really designed for a plug and play Alexa experience), or not broadly reviewed (Kickstarter-backed retrofit kits that are a little unproven yet), so I think I’ll hold my breath for a little while longer.</p>
<p>I have one automated window blind already, but this old circuit uses a proprietary encrypted signal to control it, which complicates matters. I think I may have found the early signals of a retro-fit “signal learning” solution, but even if that doesn’t pan out, I can always switch the relay unit out at some point for a wifi compatible one.</p>
<h2 id="outoftheboxskillsvsthirdpartyskills">Out-of-the-box skills vs third-party skills</h2>
<p>With Alexa, you might install a third-party skill which provides a much match for your own needs than the default one that Amazon supplies, however doing this often requires you to say the command in a new and more complicated way. </p>
<p>Amazon lets you swap the default music skill out for Spotify, which is great. However, they don’t let you swap out the Weather skill yet. I use (and thoroughly recommend) Dark Sky for forecasts, which I also use on my phone, which for some inexplicable reason is triggered by oddly different and head-ache inducing command, “Alexa, ask Big Sky what the weather is”. </p>
<p>I really wish I was able to swap all of Amazon’s default skills out, as I’m pretty sick of not being able to say “Alexa, weather please“ and getting Dark Sky’s fantastically accurate forecast for the day rather than the low-fidelity, out-of-the-box version.</p>
<h2 id="audiopickupquality">Audio pickup & quality</h2>
<p>The greatest challenges I presently have with the Dot is to do with audio in and audio out.</p>
<p>If I choose to use any kind of media that I’m not directly playing through the Dot (for example music or catchup TV from my speakers or iPad) the sound this creates causes interference problems. For example - if I’m watching something on my iPad while eating, both the audio from the iPad and my own voice compete for Alex’s attention if they are roughly in the same place - so I find myself juggling mute buttons or holding the device out at arms length to separate the directional signal.</p>
<p>The Dot also requires you speak quite clearly and in the direction of the unit. I’ve found you usually need to look in the direction of the speaker to get a good pickup unless it’s very quiet in the space. This can be frustrating as it picks up a great deal, so sometimes you don’t need to be so precise, but then when it fails, you fall from your magical world to Earth again with a bump.</p>
<p>Finally, the quality of the audio out isn’t great. It will quite happily fill my apartment with noise, but really you want to pair it with a good speaker especially if you are going to listen to music on it, and so far I’ve not done this yet.</p>
<h2 id="risks">Risks</h2>
<p>The risks of home automation are well documented, and of course most of the worst ones centre around the access to your personal data and activity. I am happy to play guinea pig a little here, and I therefore do expose myself to some of these risks.</p>
<p>As much as we today tend to take a “protective” line on this sort of personal data, their is a growing an inevitability that in modern society you can never truly protect yourself from some breach or bad actor somewhere in the chain somewhere, now or in the future. I suspect those who resist entirely will end up making life so difficult for themselves in time that I think consumer attitude will eventually broadly switch to a more “I’ve got good protection in place for when this does happen” approach rather than the current prevailing attitude.</p>
<p>However, these concerns aside, the main risks I have found are: </p>
<ul>
<li>Friends who visit you like to try it out when you’re out the room. I have found a whole variety of imaginative items on my shopping list in the past 12 months after visits.</li>
<li>It’s quite embarrassing to use it when other people are around and they “don’t get it“ because it can seem (to me) to seem pretentious. Rather than feeling magical, I sometimes feels quite self-conscious when others are around and I’m telling Alexa to turn on the kitchen lights because (and this is a significant limitation) without some additional wiring, I can now only control them via an app on my phone or via Alexa.</li>
<li>Alexa will annoyingly and occasionally quite happily chime in at things happening on TV or other audio sources that for some reason convince it that you’re asking for information on the capital of Washington state, or whatever else it imagines you said.</li>
<li>If the wifi goes down, things stop working (so have some backup options).</li>
</ul>
<h2 id="verdict">Verdict</h2>
<p>I use the <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01DFKBL68/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=6738&creativeASIN=B01DFKBL68&linkCode=as2&tag=aajhiggs-21&linkId=2247e0bd048375bd2edc453ad1b2f4c9">Echo Dot</a> daily because I get great value from it. For the £40 investment I made 12 months ago, it’s been a hugely transformative experience in my house. I would genuinely miss the assistance it brings if it no longer existed.</p>
<p>As expressed before, I’ve come to terms that there’s a “always listening” device on in my apartment, and I’m ok with that. It’s acted as a spring board to the future of how the home will work (I’m convinced of it) and many of these early concerns about data will abate one way or another - either because society will become more relaxed or because companies will do better at delivering a service that’s acceptable to consumers.</p>
<p>I will likely try and improve the vocal reach of Alexa within my apartment this year, and ideally get my first window blind working. </p>
<p>So far, it’s been an exciting experiment that I’ve really enjoyed, and if you’re curious to get into home automation, it’s a great springboard into the area.</p>
Functional dissonance inside startups2017-12-10T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/functional-dissonance-inside-startups/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/IMG_2928.JPG" alt="Functional dissonance inside startups" />
<p>A few months ago I saw Josh James, CEO of <a href="https://domo.com/">Domo</a>, speak about the mechanics of their business, and later at the same event also saw Jeff Lawson, CEO of <a href="https://twilio.com/">Twilio</a> do the same.</p>
<p>I really enjoyed both talks, however I had a visceral reaction to Josh’s talk; I knew very quickly that would struggle to ever work within his company. However much I could admired Josh, I would never be able to align myself with the sales-infused culture there.</p>
<p>Jeff by contrast talked about his challenges of creating an engineering-driven organisation, and of developing a business where their products are created and sold to developers since many of their key products are based around APIs. This seemed a lot more appealing to my sensibilities and to me, far more agreeable.</p>
<p>Des Traynor, CEO of <a href="https://intercom.com/">Intercom</a>, describes how business culture mimics founder DNA; like pets, growing businesses “start to look like their owners”, probably due to founder-sponsorship of their favourite issues. For example if the founders are marketeers, a marketing-first culture is likely to pervade. Product people create product-first companies. Sales people… well, you get the idea.</p>
<p>After absorbing each of these three pieces of information, something perhaps seemingly obvious started to occur to me; it made me very aware that some companies are weighted in favour of a specific functional area. I began to realise that my own bias towards Product is likely to be beneficial to those in the product-engineering side of <a href="https://akkroo.com/">Akkroo</a>, however conversely it was possible my actions were having unintentional consequences on other (perhaps less well-represented) internal teams. As with many things where you are not acting deliberately, this did not seem ideal to me.</p>
<p>Soon after, I found myself seeking advice from <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/oliversidwell">Ollie</a> — business founder, long-time sales leader and collaborator — about solving a productivity problem that seemed to stem from sales behaviour inside the business. The noise inside our office created by sales calls was growing to a level that was disturbing our engineers; a problem particularly hard to resolve since we were operating in a single room at the time. </p>
<p>Once I’d shared my concerns with him, he turned this problem on it’s head. He demonstrated to me that the behaviour we were seeking to reduce could also be evaluated as a positive by-product of successful sales activity, and through this it occurred to me that my perspective on the matter was entirely biased to my own and the engineering team’s viewpoint. It was at this point I realised I needed to find a solution that let sales continue to build up their energy on calls, and separately find a way to prevent it affecting the engineers’ work, rather than assume I needed to stop the behaviour in the first place.</p>
<p>This was a critical realisation for me. Although at the time I couldn’t do much to change the physical arrangement in the office, it made me much more conscious to try and empathise with the other internal teams, especially before making judgement. </p>
<p>One of the first changes we made was to start to openly acknowledge and talk about deliberately fostering and attending to the needs of two distinct internal cultures — sales and engineering. I was already very aware they had very different qualities and working styles, but rather than continue to seek to compromise and homogenise working behaviour, I changed my approach and started to actively promote two separate styles of operation. The teams are fundamentally still bound by the same over-arching <a href="https://akkroo.com/jobs#values">company values</a>, but now I advocate <em>that the activity of each team primarily needs to be appropriate to it’s function</em>, and not be stifled by the requirements of other parts of the business.</p>
<p>It’s important to note that this is only possible if the teams in question acknowledge the needs of the other. I believe the strength of the outcome is that our Head of Sales, myself and our Head of Engineering have built a empathetic relationship and acknowledge the different working behaviours as such before they seek to find solutions to challenges. </p>
<p>Next week we move our UK team to new London headquarters, and I hope to have found a more permanent, physical solution to the growing volume of sales activity. Something that I once mistook as a purely negative signal, now feels like a proxy for success. In the interim we had to use the trust built here to seek some compromises between us, however I feel our joint approach, empathy and awareness of the distinct functional needs has been important to getting to this point without one team becoming subservient to the (founder-sponsored) desires of the other.</p>
On becoming a Product Designer, eventually2017-11-19T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/on-becoming-a-product-designer/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/idt-shirt.jpg" alt="On becoming a Product Designer, eventually." />
<p>In my experience, most people aged 16 have no idea what they want to do. By my own standards therefore I was probably quite an odd child, because I remember quite vividly that by the middle of my teenage years, I explicitly knew that the only thing I wanted to do was design products.</p>
<p>I selected my A-Levels with this in mind. Design & Technology was the central pillar of my choices, but in order to get the exact combination of subjects I wanted, I persuaded the senior management team at school to let me study in my own time since my choice couldn’t be accommodated inside the normal timetable. </p>
<p>I researched and identified the very best course to study product design in the UK, and then applied solely to that university. This in itself was unusual; all of my friends made fallback provisions, but I don’t ever remember being concerned by this. I achieved the grades I needed and began my degree in Industrial Design & Technology; the design, prototyping and creation of physical objects.</p>
<p>I spent three years studying the subject, and graduated in 2006. The expensive piece of paper which certifies my degree is buried deep inside a box somewhere, where is has remained ever since graduation day.</p>
<p>During that time I started to develop and maintain a pretty critical view of the value that my degree had been able to provide me in the context of the work which I pursued for a decade after.</p>
<p>Throughout my whole time at university I supplemented my student loan doing freelance web design; what was then a very new kind of digital creative work. I happily spent my spare time pursuing this as a pastime; the access to unrestricted high speed internet and a ready-made community of entrepreneurial students needing websites meant I was constantly busy with some fun project or other.</p>
<p>The study of industrial design is a respected discipline, grounded on decades of research and development which allows you, as a qualified industrial designer, to stand upon the shoulders of giants. Industrial design traditionally also requires a discipline to get it absolutely right first time, and so the best of our class were usually perfectionists, mainly because the expense of manufacturing an object en-masse meant you rarely would get more than one shot at creating the tooling, and so ideally you wanted as little iteration as possible.</p>
<p>Web design as a subject seemed to have quite the opposite quality to me. It was all fast and loose creative work, mostly interpreted as art or graphic design, and certainly didn’t seem to constitute the occupation of a professional. The ability to iterate quickly was a huge positive benefit in my eyes. It was super cheap, and the work was often both expendable and ephemeral (especially if your web hosting wasn’t very good). </p>
<p>Most of the degree course leaders were skeptical of the value this hobby of mine - it certainly had nothing to do with the course or any long term career or value. It might have been lining my pockets, but neither I nor them viewed it as a valid path for a product designer. There existed no Frank Lloyd Wrights in web technologies.</p>
<p>So — as I told many friends at the time — although I was earning money “building websites”, I would only continue as long as it was viable to, but I could see no future in it. I was doing it to bridge the gap until I became a real product designer.</p>
<p>Having asked about our future prospects as newly-minted industrial designers, a lecturer once explained to a group of us that after we graduated, we could expect to spend the first couple of years designing toilet seats. After a few years we could become the senior designer, then maybe when we got to around 30, we might have a shot at managing the studio. </p>
<p>Hearing these words was like having a bucket of cold water thrown over me; this was not what I’d signed up for. I wanted to design exciting things (the next iPod perhaps?), and maybe run my own business. I certainly didn’t want to run someone else’s studio, or spend a decade working creating bathroom fittings in endless shades of apricot and avocado.</p>
<p>I remember the first LCD screen iPods arriving on campus in 2004; so my time studying coincided exactly with the start of that early boom in high-end consumer tech. On reflection, the software experience always felt somewhat prosaic when compared to the incredible sensation of touching the beautifully machined, highly polished hardware - but I don’t think at the time I ever really thought about it like that. The ‘software design’ was just not something we ever talked about in class, but despite this, everyone was very aware about this newly emerging raft of beautiful tech-filled objects.</p>
<p>Our industrial design course was a mixture of physical prototyping, design thinking, mechanics, electronics, artwork rendering, environmental studies, accessibility, ergonomics, materials science, engineering drawing and CAD work.</p>
<p>It only really involved designing objects to exist in the physical world, bar a single optional module where you could learn basic HTML and Flash, but that was only about online portfolio creation, not about the software experience inside the products themselves.</p>
<p>In my second year, I had the opportunity to do some work experience; a placement year. I asked if I could spend it developing my skills running a web studio, but my request was rejected; it was simply was too tangential to Industrial Design. In the end I chose to skip the placement year and finish my degree a year early.</p>
<p>I carried on with my course and eventually completed my studies, but by the end it was apparent my real passion was in the freedom of my freelance web design projects, a great creative outlet which had broken the monotony of the coursework and the skill-sharpening exercises in the prototyping workshops. </p>
<p>It’s been a decade since I graduated, and I now spend every day working with a team of talented designers and engineers at the company I co-founded with some friends (former freelance clients) who I met back at that same university.</p>
<p>I’d estimate that 95% of our work is designing and making things that can only exist in a digital dimension.</p>
<p>Recently I started to reflect on the relationship between my studies and my work, and I’ve been starting to think about it a little differently. I realised that for now over ten years I’ve been saying to those who asked, “I really enjoyed university, but I didn’t really end up using my degree.” I’ve never felt comfortable saying I was a product designer; in fact, it seemed to me quite clear that I never became one.</p>
<p>My university course did ultimately make a positive impact on my thinking and approach to design problems generally. Skills I learned like ergonomics and human factors, the prototyping process, project management, environmental studies, critical design thinking - not to mention the work ethic they required of us - have translated into directly applicable skills in my present work. </p>
<p>However, I also now see I was experiencing my education at the very dawn of rich, embedded software experiences, and where the Industrial Design profession had concentrated on hardware for so long, it suddenly was faced with very new challenges and a change in the paradigms of product. It had no quality experience or advice to offer on the subject of “great software for great hardware”, and it’s now clearer to me that it wasn’t really sure how to respond to it. For context, the App Store didn’t exist until two years after I graduated, so there simply wasn’t much of an open ecosystem to explore the subject. When I wrote my dissertation on the adoption of web accessibility in UK SMEs, it was positively the only piece of academic writing I could find on anything to do with web design, and I felt my tutor was bemused and tolerated the topic rather than really understanding it. It’s to their credit they let me do it at all. </p>
<p>Back then, the teaching staff in my department and I were skeptical of any benefit or long-term impact of working with web technologies, which later would form the backbone of all my work. For ten years I’ve variously described this aspect of my work as “web design”, “working with web technologies” or “creative”, and rarely anything else.</p>
<p>It’s only through the passage of time and the maturing of the digital mediums that means I finally feel confident in acknowledging what I am doing really is product design today, albeit using a modern toolset. And finally it’s only now, sixteen years on, that I am able to reflect that the dream I had as a enthusiastic school kid really did become my reality.</p>
Seeing clearly without glasses2017-11-15T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/seeing-clearly-without-glasses/<p>Earlier this year in Lisbon I met with a couple of friends whilst we were out there for a speaking engagement, and to enjoy a little surfing.</p>
<p>During our stay, the topic of laser eye surgery came up. All three of us have had need of vision correction in some form or other over the years. I have worn glasses since I was very young (reluctantly at times, but more willingly in recent years), my friend Joel wears contacts, and Amir has had laser surgery to make the correction permanent.</p>
<p>I had once been told casually by the optician at an annual eye checkup that I’d never be able to have laser correction surgery; my prescription was simply too far out of range for it, so I had accepted that at face value and never really thought much about it since. However, this conversation with Amir and his positive experience stirred my curiosity again and I started to wonder if I should seek a second opinion.</p>
<p>When I returned to the UK I started to search online for information and was staggered by how popular vision correction surgery now is. I also located an incredibly highly recommended surgeon in London who had a glowingly long list of TrustPilot reviews.</p>
<p>There are a whole host of reasons why a person may or may not be eligible for laser vision correction surgery, and to be honest, I was pretty convinced I was going to be out of the acceptable bracket. Not only have I suffered with a number of eye issues in the past, I was also convinced that my strong prescription would be a barrier. I booked a consultation with Mr Ali Meerza with the view that I would probably return disappointed and my fears confirmed, but at least I would have a conclusive view on the matter. I was hopeful that I might be proven wrong, but I didn’t expect it.</p>
<p>I first visited the clinic in Marylebone during Wimbledon and remember watching a semi final match in the waiting room before my consultation. The reason I mention this detail is that I cannot tell you how much the customer experience dealing with the clinic has been exceptional throughout. I love to closely observe how well-regarded businesses treat their customers and I was clearly aware of the premium reputation of this place before I engaged them, but all I can say is my expectations were exceeded. At every touchpoint, from the website, communication, to the personalised service and on-site experience - it’s been a joy to be treated to - and very fun to dissect how I am being cared for along the whole length of my journey so far. So many positive things to absorb!</p>
<p>Of course, there is a cost to this kind of eye treatment, however I felt having done my research and made comparisons to similar products offered by others, and the seriousness of the work to be undertaken, making sure I invested in the services of someone so well regarded seemed to me to be a sensible consideration and worth some additional cost (which I felt was very reasonable, but that is a decision anyone else considering surgery has to judge for themselves).</p>
<p>I would probably not be writing this post had the result been difference, but following two short consultations including one with Mr Meerza, they confirmed there was no barrier to do the work. In fact, the prognosis based on the results of the scans and assessments was very much positive, rather than marginal. Naturally, I was elated.</p>
<p>Four months later, and yesterday I went in for the treatment. It’s a 15 minute operation, and I spent just an hour and a half in the clinic in total, but to be honest the time I spent in there is a little disorientated in my memory. The operation itself is an incredibly curious experience. I had both eyes treated, and of course there is a degree of squeamishness associated with anything to do with the eye, but I’m not able to say any of it was unpleasant. I felt a little nervous in advance, but the professional nature of the whole experience did a lot to reassure me. </p>
<p>The cold facts of the procedure was that it’s like experiencing a light show; reds, greens and whites on a field of darkness. It’s very hard to explain, but I found that absorbing myself in the beauty of what seemed to me to resemble a silent firework show comprised of pretty gauze-like fields of light and pulsing embers helped to keep me relaxed throughout. There’s even one bit that feels and looks like like you’re entering an airlock on a spaceship. Really.</p>
<p>The evening afterwards was a bit difficult. It was dark by the time I left but I was definitely more sensitive to light in the shop windows as I sat in the taxi on the way home, and the various drop routine started in earnest which is going to be a large aspect of my routine for the next week or so. I napped for an hour on the advice of the surgeon, and woke to find the mistiness and blur I’d been experiencing was starting to subside. </p>
<p>Over the next couple of hours before bed, I could sense an improvement in my vision, albeit relatively hard to truly gauge what had changed. Trying my glasses on made things blurry, so I could tell there was a significant difference. It was definitely clearer without them now.</p>
<p>When I woke the next morning, I had to remove the eye protection I’d been given, and after a few moments my eyes started to adjust. There was no pain or grittiness, but the moment the change really hit me when I focussed on the horizon and I realised I was able to make out the detail in the stonework of Westminster Abbey a kilometre away, and the clarity of the amber and red leaves in the autumnal trees of Victoria Gardens. Also I could see things crisply in my periphery - I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever been able to say I’ve experienced that before in my whole life.</p>
<p>I had a checkup at 9.30 this morning. The light sensitivity from the night before had faded and I had the joyous experience of walking down the Lambeth embankment towards Westminster, then around Oxford Street and absorbing detail everywhere. It’s not only the remarkable nature of the crispness - I have always been able to see that in photos or at certain focal lengths - it’s just the constant realisation it’s happening without an artificial lens, and in situ.</p>
<p>There appear to have been no complications with my surgery, and the recovery has started well, which means I’m already feeling vindicated in my decision to pursue this. My one eye already is showing greater than 20/20 vision, something I never assumed possible. I was keen to get this experience down in writing quickly as it’s unlikely I will recall it so clearly in the future, and I hope it might provide someone else with an insight to the procedure and experience if you also are considering laser corrected vision yourself. I know this particular part of the journey was the least clear to me in advance of the procedure.</p>
<p>One footnote; the effects of surgery, even if positive may fade over time, and by the time humans reach 40 years old there is a high chance of a need to use reading glasses regardless of any laser vision correction. I understood this but take the view that if that gives me roughly 10 years of freedom, especially if it means I can now see clearly in the swimming pool, when I get up in the morning, while I work, or when I’m outdoors, that’s well worth the investment now.</p>
The difference between a Customer Profile and a Customer Persona2017-10-27T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/difference-between-customer-profiles-and-customer-personas/<p>Until recently I hadn’t really considered that there was any significant difference between the term “<strong>Customer Profile</strong>” (in the context of an "Ideal Customer Profile") and a "<strong>Customer Persona</strong>”, however uncovering that they can represent very different ideas helped me to gather why there is a need to define separate our Customer Profiles and Customer Personas in our work at <a href="https://akkroo.com/">Akkroo</a>.</p>
<h2 id="whatisacustomerpersona">What is a Customer Persona?</h2>
<p>At Akkroo, a Customer Persona is used to identify a type of individual inside an organisation who has a specific job title or set of responsibilities that are common to other individuals in other organisations we work with. That might include things like job title, seniority, fiscal responsibility, geography or skill set.</p>
<p>We have a centralised working document for each Customer Persona which we maintain regularly, and there are plenty of <a href="https://www.usertesting.com/blog/2016/02/19/customer-personas/">articles</a> and <a href="http://www.makemypersona.com/">tools</a> online that'll assist in creating a set of personas for your business.</p>
<p>One word of caution here; the best reason for using a customer persona is it allows you to deliberately lasso a bunch of humans from your customer base to create efficiencies in your own work. The trade-off of this is you immediately lose the resolution of customer's individual needs and the subtlety of their differences. </p>
<p>At the opposite end of the spectrum, if you don't use personas at all, or create too few of them, you risk treating your customers so individually that you'll be paralysed by the number of routes you could pursue to please them all.</p>
<p>Therefore, carefully choosing a reasonable number of personas to segment your user base into is important (we have four core personas at Akkroo, and that seems manageable and representative for our business). </p>
<p>Understanding what percentage of your customer base a single persona represents is important to being able to avoid being too generic in your work, but also not being so vague as to fail to be able to identify and address related themes amongst the customer base.</p>
<p><em>Bonus tip: in my opinion the best Customer Persona documents are always built by and contain the views of product, marketing, customer success and sales (read as: everyone in your team!). As a consequence, there will be content inside the persona document which is useful to all of these people, and some information that is only useful to each independent group. I think this is a good thing as it encourages a shared responsibility for maintaining the document and a generates a richer, more rounded persona.</em></p>
<h2 id="whatisacustomerprofile">What is a Customer Profile</h2>
<p>By contrast, an ICP (Ideal Customer Profile) represents the attributes of a perfect customer organisation match for your business. And unless you have lots of products, you probably don’t want to have to many Customer Profiles, as each contains it’s own set of Customer Personas and therefore specific customer needs.</p>
<p>Paraphrasing <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/bmacaitis">Bill Maciatis</a>, former CMO at Slack and Zendesk, to create a Customer Profile you must, <em>find a single common thread that runs through all your customers</em>. This is a great cross-team activity that is often harder to do than it sounds!</p>
<p>An example of the ICP that might be used by <a href="https://mailchimp.com/">Mailchimp</a> might read like this “Small and medium sized businesses who want to more effectively market to their own customers” (there would be whole lot more attributes in a fully worked example, but for an example this gives you the gist).</p>
<p>In consumer products you may only have a single Customer Persona to work with. In those cases there might be a significant overlap with your Ideal Customer Profile. However in a B2B environment or where you have a longer sales cycle, it likely your ICP will contain (or even require) multiple Customer Personas, whose individual needs will need to be addressed separately. </p>
<p>Both Customer Personas and Customer Profiles develop over time, and can change, so this is the final thing to consider as the Ideal Customer Profile you match today may not be the exact profile you want to match in time. In fact, developing them in this manner can be a good strategic application for both personas and profiles.</p>
<p>I hope this brings a little clarity to the differences between these two similar sounding concepts that in reality can have quite different purposes and benefits.</p>
When a technical founder realises they need to hire a product manager2017-10-21T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/when-to-hire-a-product-manager/<p>For four years, for better or worse, I looked after Product at <a href="https://akkroo.com/">Akkroo</a> pretty much single handedly. I did this with assistance from engineers, commercial, marketing, design and customer success teams. This seemed to work relatively well, however in the last few weeks (and after months of research and deliberation) we’ve been joined by our first full time product manager and a change in how that works.</p>
<p>I wanted to share what I’ve learnt about this experience; what brought me to this point and what benefits and challenges have come through this change.</p>
<h2 id="myexperiencessofar">My experiences so far</h2>
<p>I ran all the projects as a freelancer then eventually my web design agency for the best part of a decade (where I both coded and designed), so I have plenty of experience in making the gears turn in product and development, usually straddling both technical and aesthetic aspects of the project - so very much responsible for managing the product, though probably never identifying as a formal Product Manager. </p>
<p>My entire approach was self-taught, highly influenced by the cadre of talented individuals I’ve been lucky enough to extract advice from over the years, so I don’t really know how close my experience is to other founders. I’m therefore really curious to understand how others experience maps to mine; maybe I’ve beaten a curious path of my own, or maybe I’ve been walking a well trodden route by accident and was just not very aware of it. </p>
<h2 id="whyididntwantaproductmanager">Why I didn’t want a product manager</h2>
<p>One of the most well known obstacles for individuals transitioning to a management role is learning to delegate. Over the years I’ve learned to pass on a whole host of duties to other team mates, and I don’t feel I’m too bad at identifying when something should be delegated. Usually it’s a simple calculation; if I gave this to someone else, would the leverage (speed, quality) of the result be better. If yes, delegate.</p>
<p>However, sometimes I find I just don’t have the right person to delegate to. Especially in a small team, where some roles are crisply defined, and others are still a bit of a primordial soup of unrelated tasks that soak into some roughly defined theme. Sometimes I just hit on something that seems like it should be possible to delegate, yet I have no idea to whom, and certainly hiring someone to adopt that singular task seems totally disproportionate.</p>
<p>As a consequence, the greatest challenge I’ve always had is understanding what person should pick up a given task when there isn’t an obvious candidate. This seems a striking weakness to me as it takes lots of effort and research before I feel confident to move (by which time a lot of time may have passed). I hope and assume some other people encounter this feeling of confusion too. As much as I know I should delegate a given task, sometimes I have absolutely no idea what the job role should be of the person who owns it. </p>
<p>For the four years Akkroo has existed, I had no idea what a product manager did. I don’t mean that flippantly. I assumed I was probably doing the role, and that I was doing it well enough, maybe even better than a PM could do because I had all the context of a founder - maybe I was a “super PM”! Members of my team occasionally suggested we might need a PM or a project manager; and after hearing it enough I started to try and identify tasks I thought that hypothetical individual might take over from me.</p>
<p>My response in the early days was this was not a necessary role, or certainly, not quite yet and “we’d know it when we hit it”. I just needed to get more organised. I could see roadmaps and project progress needed to be communicated more clearly, ordered more frequently, my reports in engineering and product design needed more of my time, that kind of thing. </p>
<p>But as time went on, and I stubbornly concluded that I didn’t need assistance, I only came to realise I just wasn’t able to make the progress on achieving these goals despite my best efforts. </p>
<h2 id="whyiwantedaproductmanager">Why I wanted a product manager</h2>
<p>In the end, I resolved to seek more complete advice on the subject. Towards the end of 2016 I attended <a href="http://canvasconference.co.uk/">Canvas in Birmingham</a> and <a href="https://www.jamlondon.io/conference">JAM in London</a> (conferences for product managers) and came away energised, but in the end it was my <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/chris-wickson-793260a/">co-founder Chris</a> who really forced the issue on me by taking me to a bar for a drink with <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/mark-harris-81b2b91a/">Mark</a>, a senior PM at WorldPay (a friend and customer of ours). He lifted the curtain on a developed product organisation, and that really helped.</p>
<p>Over the next few months I met more PMs for their advice (and explored many more London bars in the process), including <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/maximeberthelot">Max at Buffer</a> and <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/thomas-lake-65523b11/">Tom at InfoPro Digital</a>.</p>
<p>This is what I learnt in those meetings:</p>
<ul>
<li>Product Management is <em>not</em> the same as Project Management; although they overlap, they also have clear differences.</li>
<li>Product Management requires a broader range of skills including (of course) a great understanding of product, but project management is purely about the sequencing and cadence of project development. Project management is a skill in itself, but is more readily available in the market, and not valued as highly on it’s own.</li>
<li>The best product managers have both execution ability as well as strategic nouse, however...</li>
<li>...it’s very hard and expensive to find truly great product managers.</li>
<li>A Product Manager is really the same as a Product Owner, it’s just different nomenclature, however Product Owner may well have some special meaning inside a true scrum organisation.</li>
<li>The definition of a product manager is different at every organisation...</li>
<li>...and perhaps hence, a broadly held opinion I encountered is that the best product managers are often "home grown".</li>
<li>PMs at larger, better-established organisations than us, usually will closely with other roles we don’t yet have at Akkroo like Technical Architects and Business Analysts. I’d never understood these terms (or perhaps even heard of them) until I started speaking to PMs.</li>
</ul>
<p>All of this started a deluge of thoughts that made me realise I could extract myself from a bunch of responsibilities I viewed as admin work that by this point was an anchor around my waist. During the research phase, I’d become slower, if not an all out drag on others trying to move their own projects forward. Making product decisions had become something I looked forward to rather than making daily as I much prefer to and had in the past. Too many plates were spinning and I’d resolved in my OKRs to reduce the number of threads we should be pursuing at once.</p>
<p>This was when I had my “road to Damascus” moment and realised I quickly needed to find someone to assist me.</p>
<h2 id="whathappenedwhenihiredaproductmanager">What happened when I hired a product manager</h2>
<p>Through some good luck, I was delighted to find someone almost immediately who fitted our ideal PM candidate profile. Khadija has been with us only a few weeks now, and has spent a great deal of her time unpicking and re-weaving what only now is obvious to me as the messy web created by a fast moving early stage startup founder at work.</p>
<p>We have gained a great new perspective in the product team; which in itself is a new concept as we our designer Sandro is finally primarily able focus on product work. Previously we allocated creative across the organisation as a horizontally shared resource, what we fondly used to refer to as “Arts & Crafts” while it existed.</p>
<p>The rest of the team is finally getting the level communication I always owed them, and I feel I can truly focus on the important business of delivering and guiding the product vision, principles and mission - as well as my other responsibilities as a founder.</p>
<p>Evaluating the first few weeks alone, and without being able to view the returns in the coming quarter, I feel we’re now on the right path.</p>
<h2 id="whatithinkthefutureholds">What I think the future holds</h2>
<p>This is the early stage of our journey in a business with real product management, and I’m sure there is a whole host of learning ahead of us. I am optimistic that we’ll continue to become more effective as a product organisation as a whole, and in time the structure will grow and change again. However, I feel having made this change even after this short time, the future of product at Akkroo already looks very bright indeed.</p>
<p><em>If you’re looking to hire a product manager for the first time, I found <a href="https://www.kennorton.com/essays/productmanager.html">this article</a> incredibly helpful.</em></p>
Be Insanely Valuable: Join a small team, make a big impact2017-06-18T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/be-insanely-valuable-join-a-small-team-make-a-big-impact/<p><strong>Here are some of my thoughts on joining a small team, especially a startup, and some practical ideas on how I believe you can make yourself immensely valuable as an individual.</strong></p>
<p>The advice I’ll share is from personal experience of working in and leading small teams. Today, I look after the product and engineering teams at <a href="https://akkroo.com/">Akkroo</a>, a London based startup. </p>
<p>For context, I'd classify myself as a creative at heart. I studied Industrial Design (designing physical products) at university, whilst following a freelance career in web design and development. Over time my web design customer base grew, and I started to employ designers and developers, and eventually established a web development and branding studio for premium brands.</p>
<p>That business grew to four people, and then one day I realised that I’d been working in the web for nearly 10 years.</p>
<p>I felt I wanted a new challenge, so sold my agency and went into business with some friends. We co-founded Akkroo around four years ago. Right now, we are a team of 27 spread over the UK and USA.</p>
<p>The advice I want to share here is from my personal experience of seeing how people really add value inside small teams.</p>
<p>I believe when you are able to add an incredible amount of value to your own organisation or team, you will naturally increase your own value as an individual, which ultimately is beneficial to your own personal and career development.</p>
<p>What I share here should be useful for anyone who works inside a small team — or a startup - whether you are a designer, a developer, a manager of people, or perhaps even a future founder of your own company. This is a simple list of ideas that can help to make you into a more desirable and valuable member of any small team.</p>
<h2 id="dontbeajetbearocket">“Don’t be a jet, be a rocket”</h2>
<p>I’d love to tell who I heard say this first, but frustratingly I cannot recall. The gist is this: a jet is fast and powerful, but leaves little evidence of it's journey behind, whereas a rocket leaves a trail that clearly shows the path it made.</p>
<p>As an individual working in a team you add the greatest value when you leave a path behind you that others can follow. When you do this, much like the rocket, others will benefit from what you create. By contrast, a jet is also powerful and fast, but it does not leave any real long standing trace of itself which allow others to learn where it has already travelled. </p>
<h2 id="whathappenswhenyouarenotdeliberateabouthowyouaddvalue">What happens when you are not deliberate about how you add value</h2>
<p>When I was a kid, after school I used to go to my grandmother’s house with my two sisters, and we would prepare a dessert called apple crumble. This is one of my favourite things. It’s made of butter, apples, sugar, flour and magic. It's simply fantastic.</p>
<p>My grandmother had lived through the war and was loathed to throw things away or generate waste, however, she could cook a great apple crumble.</p>
<p>On one occasion, my sister and I were helping her to making our favourite dessert. I’d prepared the apples, my grandmother asked my sister to pass the sugar, which she did, and we mixed it with the flour and butter and made the crumble. Perfect.</p>
<p>We popped it in the oven, and twenty minutes later we sat down to tuck in. </p>
<p>I took a very big mouthful... </p>
<p>It was not good.</p>
<p>In fact, it was really awful. </p>
<p>It was <em>incredibly</em> salty.</p>
<p>It turns out my sister had passed my grandmother the salt, not the sugar. Urgh.</p>
<p>If that had been the end, it would have been bad enough. However, my grandmother being the lady she was and not the sort of person who ever let anything go to waste, made us eat every last spoonful of the salty apple dessert.</p>
<p>I still feel sick thinking about it today.</p>
<p>So what is the lesson here? </p>
<p>Well, when you’re in a small team or startup, like with our salty apple crumble, you pretty much always have to eat what you make - so you want to avoid that and make it taste good. </p>
<p>Much like with the salty apple crumble, if you don’t pay attention to getting the ingredients right, you will almost certainly come to regret the experience. </p>
<p>So the method that I share below is about making sure you take care to always include the right ingredients when making things to ensure you and others always enjoy the results of your work. This is how you can generate real value as an individual.</p>
<h2 id="applyingthisatakkroo">Applying this at Akkroo</h2>
<p>I’m going to share an an example of how I go about applying this idea at Akkroo. First, let me share a little more information about our business and team.</p>
<p>Akkroo helps businesses capture customer details (event qualified leads, or 'EQLs') when they exhibit at events. We’re a SaaS software company, growing quickly, and we work with brands including Aston Martin, IBM, Vogue and Sony.</p>
<p>Just over twelve months ago, I met for coffee with <a href="https://twitter.com/sunils34">Sunil</a> who was CTO of <a href="https://buffer.com/">Buffer</a> at the time. Buffer are a remote company famous for transparency. They were about 90 people at the time, and he explained to me some of the challenges they were facing as a growing team.</p>
<p>One challenge had been that when new team members started at Buffer, it had become harder and harder over time to ensure that they were able to consistently get up and running quickly, learn the intricacies of their role and absorb the cultural information which had once been easier to distribute. </p>
<p>He talked me through their new process which they were just starting to try out. It consisted of assigning every new starter at Buffer three on-boarding buddies - a Role Buddy to assist with the task of getting up and running and understand their work responsibilities, a Culture Buddy who would assist with understanding the business values and integrating into the team, and finally a Leader Buddy who would oversee the whole process and keep it orderly.</p>
<p>I loved this idea. We at Akkroo were only very small by comparison — a team of only 10 at the time — and we’re not a remote company either, but I could see how these techniques could provide a really great tight experience for our new starters.</p>
<p>What is most important is that <strong>I’d spotted an opportunity to add great value to the organisation</strong>, by introducing something new and filling a gap we hadn't really thought about before.</p>
<h2 id="spotthegapsfillthem">Spot the gaps, fill them!</h2>
<p>When you are a small startup, often there are significant gaps left between the traditional roles you’d find in a well developed organisation. It means it’s entirely up to you or your colleagues to take the initiative to fill the spaces which no one person owns yet. Being an individual who can identify and fill these gaps is a key part of you being able to add immense value, because it helps the organisation grow beyond the basic, dull, static structure it would be otherwise.</p>
<h2 id="threestepstoaddingimmensevalue">Three steps to adding immense value</h2>
<p>Here are three steps I believe anyone can take once you identify one of these gaps to address, and add a great deal of more value inside your team or organisation.</p>
<ul>
<li>Envision the best case result</li>
<li>Apply your team values</li>
<li>Involve others</li>
</ul>
<p>I’ll go through each of these steps one by one, then follow with practical examples after.</p>
<h3 id="1envisionthebestcaseresult">1. Envision the best case result</h3>
<p>When we write code, we generally start by writing a specification in order to know what we're aiming for. However, often when building out or adopting new processes, it's easy to dive right in without taking the time to complete this crucial step.</p>
<p>My suggestion is that it's always worth the time to pause, and think about what would be the best case version of what you could deliver as a solution. There are many, many techniques for coming with a good goals/specifications, but making sure you go through this planning step where you can think about what an awesome end-user experience is going to be the difference between coming up with a baseline, dull result, and something that is truly awesome. </p>
<p>To map out what success looks like, ask yourself "what would be the most incredible, easy experience I could have doing this?" and explore the options from here.</p>
<h3 id="2applyyourteamvalues">2. Apply your team values</h3>
<p>Team culture is the soft stuff that fills the gaps between the hard work done by everyone in your team. Organisation values are a great way of helping to distill that culture into something expressable, which allows you to communicate it to others quickly and easily.</p>
<p>We have five values at Akkroo: make an impact, use judgement, build trust, be curious & innovate, and embrace the journey. These are incredibly important to how we work. When values are a real reflection of culture, they can be an incredibly powerful lever; an style guide for approaching challenges.</p>
<p>Don't just pay lip service to your team's values, act on them. Here is my simple advice; write out and use your company values as acceptance criteria for the work you do.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Use your values as acceptance criteria.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It is possible that your company or team may not have formally defined values yet, or they feel disingenuous. I cannot recommend highly enough going through the process of resolving this. There is a huge amount of information out there on the web about how to go about generating a good list of shared team values, and this quote sums up why it is so important to be deliberate about recording values and trying to define the culture of your team:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Every company has a culture. The only question is whether or not you decide what it is.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p><em>— Jason Cohen, WP Engine</em></p>
<p>If you don't work on your culture, and identify shared team values, you are leaving a lot to chance, so it’s a great reason to think about developing values and incorporating them into your daily work.</p>
<h3 id="3involveothers">3. Involve others</h3>
<p>The final action is to involve your team. This step adds richness. You have this incredibly powerful and intelligent group of individuals around you, so don’t forget to draw on their collective experience, wisdom and ideas. It’s very easy to get your head down and not think to ask for your colleagues contributions - and forgetting to do this will make the difference between a very limited or very rich end result.</p>
<p>Also when you involve others, you get a greater sense of buy-in from the rest of your team. Those who contribute their own ideas will develop a sense of shared ownership, which will make it far easier to promote and encourage enthusiasm and adoption of your work amongst others.</p>
<h2 id="aworkedexampleatakkroo">A worked example at Akkroo</h2>
<p>So, how did we apply this in practice? I’m going to go through what I took from Buffer about team mate on on-boarding process that Sunil described, and then step through what we’ve introduced at Akkroo. I’m going to use the example of the on-boarding experience using one of our newest team mates, our designer Sandro, and show you how we used this framework to achieve a high-value result.</p>
<p>Firstly, let's look at my first principle of <strong>envision the best case result</strong>. The list in the slide below is what I came up with to define what success looks like. This version is not the exhaustive one I produced, however it covers the main desirable outcomes. There are many different frameworks you can use to come up with a great specification, and that choice is yours - the key is to come up with set of goals we are aiming to achieve.</p>
<p>Secondly, <strong>apply your team values</strong>. I’m going to step through a couple of examples of how we applied each of our five team values. </p>
<p>The on-boarding documents we produce for team mates are like check-lists that are created for every single new starter. These are for the on-boarding team, not the new starter themselves, and it means we cover off all the key stuff for someone with no knowledge of our internal workings very quickly - <strong>making an impact</strong>. These documents check we’ve setup any accounts they can’t, they know where things are like the toilets, and they have met all the right people. They cover a period of 6 months, but the most intense stuff is week one.</p>
<p>Also for the value of <strong>making an impact</strong>, we created our shared, centralised team manuals that provide new starters with our individual team principles. In Sandro’s case this is the Product & Engineering Manual, and covers things like how to commit code in the way we like, and our design principles, but from those early prototypes I made, each team now has their own manual.</p>
<p>Using <strong>good judgement</strong> - it made sense to ensure everything was super-repeatable, so I created a centralised handbook for the on boarding team members, so that new ones can learn the core processes without needing a huge amount of individualised training. Thinking like this from early on meant that bringing new Akkroomates in is really efficient.</p>
<p>This one I love - and it demonstrates our value of <strong>be curious & innovate</strong>. Using Zapier, Google Spreadsheets and Slack, we’ve setup automatic notifications for the onboarding team to ensure we have a good tight feedback loop. Every Friday each of the on boarding team get a message from the on boarding monkey prompting them for feedback.</p>
<p>We <strong>build trust</strong> from day one. I encourage every new Akkroomate to share a little about themselves, including a photo, in a 'hello' email to the whole team on their first day meaning that everyone has something to talk to them about. We also provide everyone with a bundle of small gifts and the hardware they need to get started on day one, so they feel well looked after from the get go.</p>
<p>Finally, to deliver <strong>embrace the journey</strong>, I felt we should organise a whole raft of team conversations really early in their tenure at Akkroo - including a culture and values chat with their culture buddy to ensure they understand how we operate and ask any questions. This provides them with a deeper understanding the mechanics of the business by building their knowledge of the whole company.</p>
<p>The last step is to <strong>involve others</strong>. These are some examples of things that others contributed to improve my original onboarding process when I explained what I was doing. For example, these welcome cards that everyone gets on day one. This gesture started happening one day because others could see the process I was building, and has been a great example of the rest of the team contributing to a richer experience for the new starter. Also, we seem to have developed a custom of seeing spontaneous bursts of welcome messages inside Slack when new people turn up in the team room for the first time.</p>
<p>To recap the steps I've walked through here, I've repeated my three ideas for adding immense value in a small team:</p>
<p>Envision the best case result, apply your team values, involve others</p>
<p>So in summary - Envisioning the best case result, Applying your team values, and Involving others - all applied in with the result being a richer, sweeter processes. This is all very well in principle, but why does this matter in the first place?</p>
<p>Well, here’s some of the results.</p>
<p>A year ago, we were only 10 people in size, but our retention for team mates overall was only around 50%. We also found 20% of people never made it through the first six months.</p>
<p>One year on, we’re now a much larger team of 25, and the last 15 people who joined us have all been through this onboarding process. The difference is stark, as it stands we now have a 100% retention rate in the last 12 months. I can’t attribute it all down to onboarding, but I do think it’s played a very large part.</p>
<p>And what about those who’ve been through it? Well, this is what Sandro said, </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Onboarding was super useful.</p>
<p>“I would say “friendly challenging”, because there were lots of thing to do and setup, but it was detailed like a friendly tutorial. </p>
<p>“Everyone seemed eager to help too, which was nice.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Naturally, there’s more work to be done to refine this process we've built, and things will change greatly as we grow, however hopefully you can see the immense new value we were able to add by applying this set of principles when introducing a new process.</p>
<p>As a co-founder and manager, I see this kind of activity happening across Akkroo the whole time, however I wanted to show you in a clear example how I applied these steps in my own work to demonstrate the sort of activity that will make your own manager or team see greater value in your own work.</p>
<h2 id="keytakeaways">Key takeaways</h2>
<p>There are many, many opportunities for any individual to add a great amount of value in a small team. From creating team manuals, to how you do customer development, to how you organise meetings. Everything you ever build, even outside of your core role, is a great opportunity to do so.</p>
<p>And when you add immense value, you personally become more valuable in the eyes of your peers.</p>
<p>When picking an opportunity to develop (and therefore add value to your organisation) take care to choose your ingredients wisely, because if you rush into your work, or are not being deliberate to include the right ingredients, it will very much affect the taste. Create richer results by engaging and leveraging others around you, and apply your team’s cultural values for greater, higher-value outcomes.</p>
<p>If there’s only one thing you take away from all of this, or you can’t remember my three steps, the key advice I would leave you on the subject of becoming insanely valuable, is to try and <strong>be deliberate</strong>.</p>
<p>Ultimately in a startup or small team, you are going to have to eat what you make, so by being deliberate, you have a much better chance of making sure what you eat will taste really good!</p>
<p><em>This post is a written version of a talk I first gave to job-hunting developers at the Landing Careers Festival in Lisbon, June 2017.</em></p>
<p><a href="https://www.slideshare.net/aajhiggs/join-a-small-team-make-a-big-impact">View all the slides for this deck on SlideShare</a>.
</p><p><em>Due to a faulty backup issue, sadly the images and slides accompanying this post are no longer available to display.</em></p>
Kauai2015-08-15T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/kauai/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/kauai.jpg" alt="Kauai" />
<p>Under spinning fan blades and wedged-in shoulder-to-shoulder, the four of us sat with day-glow spoons and plucked frozen chunks of pineapple out a of thick coconut ice cream. The sun beat down fiercely on the drop-tops and pickups through the window – but – with ice-in-hand, we didn’t really care about the heat out there. Inside that wooden shack, it was super cool.</p>
<p>This was Pink’s, Hanalei town’s small ice creamery. We found it after dinner the first evening we arrived on Kauai, and by the end of day two on this, the ‘garden island’ we had become their most frequent, loyal customers. We knew all the staff.</p>
<p>Between the sittings here, we pitched-up on a slim beach that glows behind the tufts of palms and ocean-view villas. Just a three or four minute lazy stroll from our own place. We rescued a clutch of body boards from beneath the stilts of the villa, and occasionally slunk in-and-out the water, catching the odd small wave here-or-there whenever the Pacific could be bothered to spin one up.</p>
<p>The surf wasn’t the vivid transparent turquoise of Oah’u’s southern coast. Instead teal and sand-laden wave crests would rear up and shed thousands of white-crystal needles, collapse onto the sand, and bubble into the big, pacific blue.</p>
<p>Our villa, like our neighbours’ houses, sat around a smooth pancake of tarmac at the end of a short road – called Papio. Opposite us, great white waterfalls rushed down rivulets in the volcanic face of the blackened mountains in the eye-line of our porch. Between here and there was little else than green, crumpled-velvet foothills, an occasional tin roof, and the grand billowing white, blue and red stripes of our neighbours’ Hawaiian jack. Bursts of white cotton cloud dabbed the uppermost peaks of the mountains; the rest of the sky a steady cobalt blue.</p>
<p>Clacking myna birds paused on the lanai balustrade from time to time. With their heads cocked to one side, they would let the sun soak into into their bright yellow chests, and with each skip or jump, flicked their black tail plumes upwards and let them fall back slowly into place in a single, graceful dip.</p>
<p>Expensive hotels nestled around the end of a golf course in the next bay, but if you carried on a little beyond that, and ventured down past the luxury apartments and down a leafy and red-earth path to the waters edge, you stepped out on top of a huge slab of glossy black lava called Queen’s Bath.</p>
<p>The wet, salty rock pools wriggled with fish and crabs, and you had to negotiate the rough edges with deft foot work. Cliffs lined huge foaming pools where the bravest divers flung themselves into screwball waters whilst their dogs bark excitedly and pace back and forth. The curious snout of a sea turtle occasionally bobbed up through the wash.</p>
<p>In the fading pinks and yellows lights of the evening, the larger rock pools reflected the subtle skies like huge black mirrors, upset by the odd thunderous wave that overspilt the rocky ocean piles. Staring directly down into the waters, the view was glassy, liquid and clear, and the whiteness of the giant pearly boulders that lined the base glowed just enough to give you a sense of the depth. You could plunge in head first and yet never get anywhere near to the bottom.</p>
Marrakech2014-09-24T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/marrakech/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/dia.jpg" alt="Marrakech" />
<p>The taxi driver rolled the tops of his ears between his thumbs and forefingers before returning both hands to the wheel of the car. We had given him an additional 50 dimah to expedite our departure (he had been waiting for a second passenger to ‘fill up’ the front passenger seat). I had to lean forward for the duration of the journey, since there isn’t room for four adult shoulders abreast in the back seat, even in a big Mercedes saloon. The Moroccan couple next to us chatted happily together for the whole two hours.</p>
<p>We drove through the red walls of Marrakech just as night was setting in. Clusters of orange street lanterns suspend from wrought iron spears and make the high city walls glow amber, while fluorescent neon tubes saturate the stacks of tins, clothing, cooking pots, wedding decorations, nuts and spices spilling out of the souks and market stalls.</p>
<p>The city was warm, and smelt of horses, rich stewing lamb and roasting hot spices.</p>
<p>Ben had already stayed here before and recommended a riad where we could be accommodated, as well as a place to go and eat something that night.</p>
<p>We crossed the busy main square and passed through the crowds; glowing stalls, performers, preachers, dancers and stall-owners vied for space and attention. Eventually the three of us slipped through to the back of a restaurant in a darker, less busy part of the square and scaled the steps at the back until we emerged on an open-air terrace with a clear view over the whole melee.</p>
<p>We ate bread, spiced olives, sweet salads, thinly sliced oiled peppers, and tried avocado juice (mixed with milk, and surprisingly sweet). The minarets started up before our main courses could arrive, and the sound temporarily overwhelmed the perpetual beat of the music and percussion from the swell of the crowds below.</p>
<p>We talked some local politics and about the language. Whereas James and I relied on pigeon French to get by until now, Ben had studied Arabic usefully both understood and spoke it, which was gleefully received by all the various locals we came into contact with. The food here was great.</p>
<p>Our riad was a curious traditional Moroccan structure, with central courtyard, which was completely impossible to locate and even harder to figure out from its bland, pink shell. It’s heavy timber door separated the world from the bright, colourful courtyard which contained a mosaiced pool, a veranda on the first floor, and a retractable canopy which floated high up above a collection of palms and lanterns. Small birds scavenged for crumbs in the rugs whilst thin cats slept in the plant pots. The building was topped off with a terrace, but James and my legs ached so much we decided to stick to the lower floors for the remainder of our remaining stay.</p>
<p>People lazed on the futons around the babbling pool, and others slept in the bunked dormitories in the rooms around it. It was full of a quiet chatter; Arabic, French, English – but we didn’t notice, as we were all soon very fast asleep.</p>
<p>The next morning was the start our final day. Apart from nipping out for some final lunch with Ben – and admiring a suitcase of footwear that one of our dorm mates had bought at a snip in the souk – we didn’t do too much of anything before our flight that evening. Morocco had been excellent, if not supremely exhausting. It had been a very good week.</p>
Mount Toukbal2014-09-23T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/mount-toukbal/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/toukbal.jpg" alt="Mount Toukbal" />
<p>The fear of being awoken at 5am by the boat’s over-zealous cleaning staff didn’t come to pass, and we comfortably snoozed through till eight. Tangier appeared through a sandy smudge over the water just as we passed Gibraltar, and we docked there an hour or so later.</p>
<p>Our plans for this town were threadbare, so we made our way to the American Legation, which TripAdvisor had advised us was the number one thing to do here.</p>
<p>This bizarrely old European style building nestles in amongst the cobbled hills overlooking the old port and is a small oasis of Georgian order surrounded by white and yellow plaster walls and under a terracotta roof. It was a good way to waste an hour, but a bit tricky to be too enthused by.</p>
<p>James and I stole a drink at one of the small beachside restaurants. It took three attempts for our waiter to suspend disbelief and that really did want to order a mint tea before food.</p>
<p>My first Moroccan tagine was excellent – chunky, fatty lamb cutlets swimming in spiced onions and prunes. James’ chicken and cous cous looked dry. We drank our Moroccan tea, the amberish mint infusion which comes loaded with a heart attack full of sugar.</p>
<p>Our transport that evening was a sleeper carriage on the overnight train from Tangier to Marrakech. Our “railway hotel” had a porter with a cap that gave him the look of the bellhop in Grand Budapest Hotel. We left at a minute to midnight, and immediately settled into the orange bunks of our couchette. The train stop-started its nighttime journey through the pitch black Moroccan countryside.</p>
<p>At around 8am the conductor tapped on the frames of the bunks to wake us, and sliding back the cabin door revealed the huge the dusty pastel pink landscape outside. We chugged into Marrakech, and jumped into the back of a local taxi.</p>
<p>We needed to get to Imlil, a small mountain village, two hours in a grand taxi (where you buy a seat and wait until all he other seats have been filled). The taxi rank contains row upon row of old beat-up Mercs painted in pale yellow, although the prevailing colour is – like everything else here – the soft coating of pink Moroccan dust. Shortly after we departed our driver exclaimed something then handed us a small cast metal bar with a hole in the end. We worked out we’d need to open and close the windows, the original handles long since gone.</p>
<p>The purpose of the trip was to get into the Atlas Mountains, and ultimately, to scale our way up the craggy peak of Mt. Toubkal (4,176m). This is the highest mountain in North Africa and the summit can be reached in two days.</p>
<p>We began our walk through the rocky orchards and shale-lined valley and started climbing up through the small villages and sandy pathways until the route reached the foot of the mountains and rose steadily over seven or so miles, gaining around a kilometre in altitude. We set off relatively late, and the sun was hot on our heads as we ascended the stony track, dodging the occasional dozy pack mule or local.</p>
<p>We stopped for food. Lunch was flat bread, and as I took the third bite into mine I noticed a familiar tang… I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but after a couple of more mouthfuls it became apparent that James had stuffed it in pretty close to his wash kit. Shaving foam, although spreadable, is my least favourite sandwich filling.</p>
<p>By early afternoon it became apparent that the passing mules and I were not getting on. A terribly apologetic Berber tried to console me when one of his decided to crush me against a rock.</p>
<p>We arrived at the refuge at 3700m in the early evening. This alpine-style ‘hut’ is palatial in dimensions, yet inside almost completely dark inside for the whole day. The electricity and lighting is turned on for three hours in the evening after the sun sets. We sat for a hearty evening meal with a bundle of French, German and Austrians and wolfed through bowls of hot soup and cascading piles of cheese and tomato spaghetti.</p>
<p>At 6am we rose. The hut was pitch black. We met an American called Ben at the breakfast table, and we agreed to climb the remainder of the mountain with him.</p>
<p>By 7am we were ready and wrapped up; we started the ascent. From the back of the refuge the valley rises in two main peaks, and we scaled the boulders to the left hand side of the pass – rapidly rising through mounds of rocky skree – and passing a number of groups who had set off a little before us.</p>
<p>The high altitude thins the air here, and with each step higher new energy is needed to take in enough oxygen. Only once before have I been to this height, in the Himalayas, and I suffered from the sickness: headaches, dizziness and shortness of breath. This time I fared much better, perhaps due to a better breathing technique, however I was really pleased to avoid my once troublesome asthma and avoided the need of an inhaler for the entire journey – there and back.</p>
<p>By this time of year the caps of the Atlas ranges have no snow, but the biting wind races across the skree in unpredictable, frozen bursts. Ice lays on the ground in places, and the overall temperature with windchill was around 2 degrees.</p>
<p>At midway, we started to pass some early starters already returning from the summit. Soon after we reached the middle of the two peaks at the top of the valley, and for the first time our view was expanded; the world fell away below our feet and spanned out like a pale blue sheet over the rippling earth below us.</p>
<p>We made a final push. The path wound back and forth, eventually flattening out and atop it a large triangular structure marked the spot; the top.</p>
<p>There were photos and hand shaking all round, and it was time to go back down.</p>
<p>The descent was less fun. The sharp drops between steps jarred at our legs, and the skree slipped away as you stood on it. By the time of our return to the refuge, my knees were like jelly and our progress had slowed the whole time. We slunk into the chairs of the hut’s dark hall and devoured another tagine.</p>
<p>The return journey was hard underfoot – but nourished by food, or initial pace was fast. James endured a knee injury and we slowed again as the path continued to descend harshly. We shared a mint tea at a settlement at the foot of the valley. Ben needed to return to Marrakesh, and so we agreed to share a grand taxi back from Imlil.</p>
On a boat to Tangier2014-09-22T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/on-a-boat-to-tangier/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/barca.jpg" alt="On a boat to Tangier" />
<p>We slunk into a couple of cheap plastic chairs flecked around the royal-blue deck of the M/V Ikarus Palace. I bit into a warm chocolate-stuffed croissant, and greased it down with the thick black ooze of a North African espresso. This is obviously the best kind of breakfast for an increasingly late and hot morning on the Mediterranean sea.</p>
<p>No trace remained of our tempestuous departure; the blankets of shattering white light and thunder claps beating our retreat from Barcelona faded out at some point in the small hours of Sunday night, and pools of mild rainwater that had slip-slopped across the deck had all now washed their way overboard.</p>
<p>The journey had begun two days earlier with a muggy dash to Waterbeach train station at 5am. Neither James or I had planned on starting the trip with a sprint, but we miscalculated our start time, and spent the journey into Kings Cross trying to recover from it.</p>
<p>This was my first time on the Eurostar. Having been a jet-setting pharmacist/politico for the past five years, this was all very normal for James, but I enjoyed the novelty of seeing the channel tunnel for myself, and enjoying the opportunity to award it my own, personal approval.</p>
<p>We shared our compartment with a pair of beautiful plummy Chelsea girls, swollen with style and sophistication, but who snoozed through most of the journey open-mouthed like flu-y pugs.</p>
<p>Paris arrived around noon, and we looped around Notre Dame at speed. It was Saturday afternoon and the crowds flocked over the squares and hot pavements between the booksellers and stalls packed full of cheap prints and ancient pornography.</p>
<p>It would have been ideal to see The Tower and some more of the city, but a strict timetable dictated a 2.05pm departure from Gare de Lyon, and so with this constraint, we dashed down our provençal baguettes under the analogue clack of the station departures board.</p>
<p>The train journey to Barcelona took six hours. We met Jenny and Paul who whisked us off to a small restaurant in the labyrinthine streets of Raval, and filled us with raw cod, steak, fried whole-fish, garlic pasta and vast plate of vanilla ice cream smothered in whipped cream.</p>
<p>Having exceeded ourselves on food, we nipped into the “fish shop”. This small, tiled bar packs it’s half dozen customers in like sardines, and then soaks them in a variety of flavoursome gin and tonics until they are fully steeped and decide to go home.</p>
<p>It was around 11am the next morning that we began to treat our hazy heads. I stuck my face though our sixth floor window and soaked up the breeze and pavement cafe chatter that filtered up through the autumn colours. Our hosts prepared breakfast, and fried up a slab of potato tortilla, scarlet chorizo and sliced mushrooms. We flushed this down with a pot of hot tea and left for the day’s activities.</p>
<p>Our first destination was Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s as yet unfinished masterpiece. I can’t think of another place with a more extraordinary interior, and use of light and space. The canopy of tree like columns, soaring voids and glowing windows are from science fiction, and to understand that any building in the modern age should need over a century to construct helps underscore the parallel with the bizarrely monumental achievements of medieval cathedral builders even by modern standards.</p>
<p>We found a small leafy courtyard for lunch, and spent the afternoon weaving the streets of Gothic, Born and Los Ramblas. In the evening, at the top of the hill that holds the Olympic Park, we drank olive-studded vermouth and watched the sun set over the port.</p>
<p>Jenny and Paul had suggested we try out a new type of tapas for our final meal that evening. These substantial, cocktail stick-mounted snacks from the Basque are laid out on slices of crusty bread, and have to be picked out like a buffet from between the shoulders of fellow dinners who sit along the long bar. Called “pinchos”, you might find your snack layered up with stuffed peppers, tuna, raw fish, olives, sausage, hams, cream cheese, beef patties, thickly sliced brie or other goodies. Each pincho costs a euro and the waitress simply counts the number of sticks you gorged through at the end of your meal before politely pushing out the door… there is no room for hangers-on and non-diners in a packed pincho bar.</p>
<p>We checked-in with our ferry just before the heavens opened. I had been responsible for the accommodation and was pleased to find our twin berth cabin with porthole was remarkably large and comfortable. We hung around on the deck until the orange glow of Barcelona faded away, and retired to bed.</p>
<p>Even with a thick espresso and thicker chocolate croissant, standing in line to complete the customs paperwork we were expected to complete on deck eight (the “Disco Deck”) that morning had proved an challenge in itself.</p>
<p>When we finally reached the front of the queue, it instantly became apparent that we had been waiting for an hour in the wrong line. The customs officer looked quite surprised that under ‘vehicle registration’ (admittedly requested in Arabic and French only) we had apparently attempted to register the whole boat. It was now quite obvious from his expression; this was incorrect.</p>
<p>Otherwise, the azure-wrapped day passed smoothly, and we found shelter from the sun under the steps of the upper deck. We ate a lunch and a supper in the canteen and arrived in Tangier at 11am the following day.</p>
<p>By early afternoon it became apparent that the passing mules and I were not getting on. A terribly apologetic Berber tried to console me when one of his decided to crush me against a rock.</p>
<p>We arrived at the refuge at 3700m in the early evening. This alpine-style ‘hut’ is palatial in dimensions, yet inside almost completely dark inside for the whole day. The electricity and lighting is turned on for three hours in the evening after the sun sets. We sat for a hearty evening meal with a bundle of French, German and Austrians and wolfed through bowls of hot soup and cascading piles of cheese and tomato spaghetti.</p>
<p>At 6am we rose. The hut was pitch black. We met an American called Ben at the breakfast table, and we agreed to climb the remainder of the mountain with him.</p>
<p>By 7am we were ready and wrapped up; we started the ascent. From the back of the refuge the valley rises in two main peaks, and we scaled the boulders to the left hand side of the pass – rapidly rising through mounds of rocky skree – and passing a number of groups who had set off a little before us.</p>
<p>The high altitude thins the air here, and with each step higher new energy is needed to take in enough oxygen. Only once before have I been to this height, in the Himalayas, and I suffered from the sickness: headaches, dizziness and shortness of breath. This time I fared much better, perhaps due to a better breathing technique, however I was really pleased to avoid my once troublesome asthma and avoided the need of an inhaler for the entire journey – there and back.</p>
<p>By this time of year the caps of the Atlas ranges have no snow, but the biting wind races across the skree in unpredictable, frozen bursts. Ice lays on the ground in places, and the overall temperature with windchill was around 2 degrees.</p>
<p>At midway, we started to pass some early starters already returning from the summit. Soon after we reached the middle of the two peaks at the top of the valley, and for the first time our view was expanded; the world fell away below our feet and spanned out like a pale blue sheet over the rippling earth below us.</p>
<p>We made a final push. The path wound back and forth, eventually flattening out and atop it a large triangular structure marked the spot; the top.</p>
<p>There were photos and hand shaking all round, and it was time to go back down.</p>
<p>The descent was less fun. The sharp drops between steps jarred at our legs, and the skree slipped away as you stood on it. By the time of our return to the refuge, my knees were like jelly and our progress had slowed the whole time. We slunk into the chairs of the hut’s dark hall and devoured another tagine.</p>
<p>The return journey was hard underfoot – but nourished by food, or initial pace was fast. James endured a knee injury and we slowed again as the path continued to descend harshly. We shared a mint tea at a settlement at the foot of the valley. Ben needed to return to Marrakesh, and so we agreed to share a grand taxi back from Imlil.</p>
Changing Tack2014-03-16T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/changing-tack/<p>If I've caught up with you in the past few weeks, you are already likely to be aware that I’ve just made a fairly significant change in my professional life.</p>
<p>For over ten years, I've provided web design services to other people. I've collaborated with some absolutely fantastic businesses, both as a freelancer and as the owner of my own agency. I never planned that <a href="http://www.higgsdesign.com/">The Higgs Design Co.</a> would ever grow to the size it did (there were four of us working on it together at it's largest), and I feel those late years of my teens and early years of my twenties have been pretty incredible really. I've always had a great time of it.</p>
<h4>San Francisco</h4>
<p>Last September I made a journey to San Francisco to try out something new. I've travelled before, but I've never combined international travel with a plan to dedicate some real work time. As both <a href="http://twitter.com/dnewns">Dan</a> and myself have friends at <a href="http://bufferapp.com/">Buffer</a>, and there is plenty of interesting stuff going on in The Valley of interest to anyone fascinated by tech, we were both really keen to experience it firsthand.</p>
<p>The trip was fantastic. Not only did I get to share Canadian Thanksgiving with my cousins in the warm auburn glow of 'fall' in Ontario, Dan and I spent two weeks in an <a href="http://airbnb.com/">Airbnb</a> in the Mission district with <a href="http://twitter.com/ay8s">Andy</a>, walking to Buffer's offices on Brannan Street each morning bathed in the warm Californian sunlight and sipping at the Bay’s best coffee.</p>
<p><a href="http://twitter.com/joelgascoigne">Joel</a> and I had collaborated a few years ago, and I've always been glad that we struck up a friendship as we did.</p>
<p>During the week we hung around together - hopping around coffee shops, restaurants, the office and beaches - we filled the rest of the time with conversations, one of which I can now see in retrospect was the spark that ignited these changes.</p>
<h4>Agency Life</h4>
<p>I have always said I have no interest in running a large agency. I love working as part of a team, but getting into big agency life is not what really motivates me. I've also always had an aversion to pitching for work. At The Higgs Design Co. we have been lucky enough to be able to attract great clients purely on merit. I am really proud we've always managed this, when it seems to be the unobtainable holy grail for so many other agencies.</p>
<p>However, in September last year it was becoming increasingly apparent that the balance was changing. One of our longest standing clients and closest partners (<a href="http://www.rmpenterprise.co.uk/">RMP Enterprise</a>, the company behind <a href="http://ratemyplacement.co.uk/">RateMyPlacement.co.uk</a>) was growing substantially each year, and it had been feeling more and more clear that our interests were aligning with theirs both productively and financially.</p>
<p>I also realised my heart was starting to lead me away from web agency work, and opportunities of fresh challenges were already drawing me in a new direction.</p>
<h4>OCP Mobile</h4>
<p>Back in the late summer of 2010, Joel had been working with me on a offline HTML web app that could be used on iPod Touches to conduct data capture at undergraduate careers fairs. This work was for On Campus Promotions, a division of <a href="http://ratemyplacement.co.uk/">RateMyPlacement.co.uk</a>’s business. The software was called OCP Mobile, and a year or so later, the directors at RMP and myself made a decision to spin-out the technology into a brand new company following early success in reselling it into enterprise companies.</p>
<p>This venture has since become known as <a href="https://akkroo.com/">Akkroo</a>, a suite of business tools and services for data capture and event guest list management.</p>
<p>Since then, I have been spending a quarter of my time on this business, working on the product side, but it never felt like I was spending quite enough time on it. Exciting new challenges began to mount up week on week and it started to become quite clear to me after my trip to San Francisco that the two situations could dovetail into each other, and in the first few weeks of 2014 a process of transition started.</p>
<h4>Akkroo</h4>
<p>On 1st March this year, The Higgs Design Co. studio stepped away from working on new client projects, and metamorphosed into the brand new internal design and development team at RMP.</p>
<p>At the same time I took up a permanent role at Akkroo, as COO. I’m working with another team of eight fantastic people on a product with great milage, and am now splitting my time between the Jewellery Quarter where I will continue to live, and for part of the week am working from our offices on London’s south bank.</p>
<p>My weekly pattern is still being refined, but this feels like a perfect arrangement for me at the moment. I hope to elaborate a little on what I mean by this exactly at some point soon, but spending three days a week in the office, and two days working remotely (along with our other developers) provides an extra freedom and coverts what otherwise could be a commute into real, enjoyable travel and a chance to enjoy the best of London’s vigour, and Birmingham’s retreat.</p>
<p>This change has of course had consequences for many of our clients, and I’m working with all of them to ensure they benefit from a smooth transition to the new agencies they have chosen. It’s been an absolute honour to see the inner workings of so many incredible businesses over the years, and so I’m delighted that I had the privilege of doing so.</p>
<p>Fantastically, I am still working alongside the team I built in Birmingham (the studio in St Pauls Square will remain open) and also get to spend more face time with the team in London. Personally, I am absolutely thrilled the way it has worked out, and I’m very much enjoying the energy of a new focus already.</p>
Journey into Africa: Zimbabwe, Briefly2013-06-16T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-zimbabwe-briefly/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-15.jpg" alt="Zimbabwe" />
<p>The next morning it really was departure day, but Ursula and I wanted to have one final look at the falls, this time from the Zimbabwean side. It would also be the fortieth country I’d visit, so it was a nice milestone too.</p>
<p>We joined Bongi and Marc for breakfast, back at the truck, and also a few of the others from our tour who were carrying on the next leg - Jeanette, Alex, Matthias, Alex and Dione. We hopped on board and crossed over the border with them.</p>
<p>I’m glad we made the journey. As a Brit, it’s pretty expensive to do as the Zimbabweans like to charge us a considerable amount for the visa, but for me the falls were the entire reason for coming to Livingstone, and from what we had heard, the most impressive view was from this side.</p>
<p>What we had heard was not wrong, and we got an absolutely stunning view of the falls. Not quite as wet, we were able to get some good photos and it was beautiful to see the whole length in one go (as much as you could through the spray).</p>
<p>And so that was that. We had to make it back to the hotel before 10.30am in order to reach the airport in time. Kim, Pia, Martin and Ingvild made our own way there and said our final goodbyes before boarding separate aircraft. I actually very briefly ran into the Norwegians again in Johannesburg, but really the trip was up by now and I was quite looking forward to my own bed.</p>
<p>Africa has been a really awesome experience. I knew it would take a lot out of me, and I did indeed come back quite exhausted (and with the addition of an epic spider bite on my wrist, which has yet to yield any additional superpowers). However I can’t express how much I enjoyed the experiences and the people, and for all the energy required to achieve it, the beauty and wildness of the place can’t be underestimated. It’ll be some time before I return I expect, but of all the places I’ve been so far, it’s given me some of my strongest memories.</p>
Journey into Africa: Walking With Lions2013-06-15T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-walking-with-lions/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-14.jpg" alt="Lion" />
<p>A ‘lion encounter’ had never been particularly high on my list of things to do in Africa, but once the detail of the experience had been shown to us I was keen to give it a go.</p>
<p>Essentially, a huge amount of parkland has been put aside to help conserve lion numbers in this area. Now the ethics of any programme working with wild animals is of course a point of discussion, but from what I saw the idea is admirable. They take a number of young lions who are raised with human contact and in time they learn to respect the human handlers as members of their own pride.</p>
<p>Over a period of months, they are introduced to larger and larger patches of land, and other lions, eventually forming their own pride (removing all contact with humans) and gaining independence within a huge reserve. These lions can never fully live in the wild due to their earlier exposure to humans, however the next generation can be reintroduced with careful planning and so the programme goes on.</p>
<p>Of course that paraphrases a more complex system but in essence it means that the opportunity is available to walk and interact with the young lions which are still effectively wild, but have been raised as part of the programme.</p>
<p>We were placed with two eleven month old lionesses. These incredible animals still had a leopard like pattern in their fur, something they lose as they get older, and were just starting to learn to hunt for themselves. They are not taught this skill, but rather their natural inclination to do so eventually develops, and after 18 months or so, it’s simply not safe for humans to spend time with them.</p>
<p>We were each given a stick that could be used as a distraction, and briefing on what acceptable behaviour is. No crouching, no placing items on the floor, and if you see a lion giving a ‘naughty look’ - effectively a playful look - sharply pointing the stick at their nose and forcefully saying, ‘No!’ subdues them. They don’t mean any harm, the reality is they view you as a pride member and simply wish to play as they do with each other, but of course the swipe of a lion claw or a bite is probably a souvenir you’d rather not have collected.</p>
<p>Confidence is key as they will pick on weaker members of a group, and actually I was amazed at how much like domestic cats they could be. Distraction comes so easy, and the scratching of a stick on the floor by their side captivates them enough to allow you to approach from behind and stroke their back... hands well clear of the back of their neck of course.</p>
<p>It’s a pretty incredible experience, and something I won’t easily forget. Touching one is incredible alone, but to get to watch them stalk birds, and walk from such close quarters is a privileged experience and one I’d recommend if you get the chance.</p>
Journey into Africa: Victoria Falls2013-06-15T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-victoria-falls/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-13.jpg" alt="Livingstone" />
<p>Livingstone was always going to be a highlight of the trip. The historical connotation with Dr Livingstone is interesting enough, but the main attraction is the spectacular Victoria Falls.</p>
<p>Before I departed, I had hoped that I would get the chance to try Devil’s Pool - the absolutely ridiculous point on the falls where you can actually sit in the water at the fall’s edge and hang over it. Unfortunately, it closes seasonally, and when we approached the “thundering smoke” as it is locally known, it was obvious why.</p>
<p>Bongi had warned us we were going to get wet. I remember how wet I got at Iguazu. But even with this knowledge I still massively underestimated how soaked I could become. In fact, we all did. It was torrential.</p>
<p>The day was beautiful and clear, but unlike Iguazu and Niagara, you only have to walk the footpaths to receive a comprehensive drenching. Again, this could be seasonal, for the flow of water was tremendous and actually quite disruptive to getting a decent view. It certainly proved tricky to get a camera out for even a few seconds.</p>
<p>That said, the incredible force of these things always astounds me, and it was absolutely beautiful. We sat for an hour on the bank of the Zambezi, watching it drop off the edge of the world and I was quite happy.</p>
<p>That evening was our last together as a group, and the campsite facilities were good, with a restaurant with a great view of the river. I ate a fillet of Zambezi bream which was washed down later over cards with quite a few Jagermisters and whisky cokes, before I eventually called it a night. The next morning a number of our group left, and I relocated from the tent to a room, sharing with the intrepid Norwegian couple Ingvild and Martin. That afternoon we arranged one final activity before our departure the next day, and I was very much intrigued as to what it was going to be like.</p>
Journey into Africa: Delta Exit2013-06-14T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-delta-exit/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-11.jpg" alt="Moroko" />
<p>That night I disturbed briefly by splashing noises just a few meters from our tent. It transpired in the morning that there were hippos nearby who had been in the water, a pretty incredible thing, but thankfully they hadn’t been too intrigued by our camp.</p>
<p>We were chauffeured back through the streams of the delta after breakfast and said goodbye to our pollers. One curious thing I picked up from my time in east Africa is the handshake that if you don’t come prepared for can catch you off guard. Ten days in Tanzania and Malawi had made me quite accustomed to it, but the effective difference is that once you have shaken ‘western style’, you then pivot your thumb upwards, shake again in this new clasp, then go back for a second western shake. I am terrible at executing this stuff normally, but after meeting with quite a few locals it became second nature and I could even do it whilst keeping eye contact (the sign of a pro). I’ve yet to confuse any Brummies with it however.</p>
<p>Another quirk of moving around in Africa is that I quickly came to understand that geographical boundaries rarely meant much for the ethnic makeup of the country. For example, most of Malawi is populated by two tribes - both of whom originate from the Congo. The semi-nomadic Massi who are cattle herding specialists and famously continue to wear their traditional clothing (it’s a bit of an anachronism in much of what I saw of urban Africa) are spread mainly between Kenya and Tanzania, and from what I am told, wearing full garb and a pair of Kayne style white slatted sunglasses on the dancefloors of the clubs of Lilongwe, absolutely clean up with the ladies.</p>
<p>It also means the languages change very quickly, and over the course of three weeks I had to pick up very basic bits of Swahili, Chichewa, Afrikaans and Setswana.</p>
<p>Although not exactly revelatory, it turns out all the characters in legendary Disney movie The Lion King are just called by their Swahilian names - for example Simba literally translates to lion, Pumba meaning warthog etc. I also realised that “Asante Sana! Squashed Banana!” means “Thanks for the squashed banana!”, but I’m still struggling to absorb the full cultural impact of this.</p>
<p>Unfortunately this day marked a bit of a low point in my trip. That evening we stayed at a campsite filled with Boabab trees - ancient specimens that can be up to 6,000 years old - but I had started to develop a neckache and I realised my balance was off. It was compounded after I accidentally kicked a rock and sliced open my big toe which left wonderfully rich pools of blood across the campsite.</p>
<p>It didn’t ruin my evening, but I wasn’t feeling well and for the next two or three days I felt like I was in some kind of bubble, and I had to resort to doing things at a snails pace. It wasn’t particularly pleasant.</p>
Journey into Africa: Chobe River2013-06-14T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-chobe-river/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-12.jpg" alt="Elephants" />
<p>The following day we arrived at the Chobe River. This waterway is the dividing line between Namibia and Botswana and that evening we took a river safari for the first time.</p>
<p>I don’t know what my expectations were, and the waterborne journey started slowly. There was quite a lot of urbanisation along the banks and the initial thirty minutes (plus a delay waiting for passengers) meant that I was not sure how successful it would turn out, however I am pleased to say it turned out to exceed all my expectations.</p>
<p>Of course being on the water at sunset on effectively an open platform sounds good to me anyway, and part of it is the luck of what animals you encounter, but as soon as we had cleared the more developed part of the riverbank we came across some really beautiful sights.</p>
<p>Hippos basked on the mudbanks just below the surface of the water, and this allowed us to get relatively close without being a danger to them. We also saw the largest number of crocodiles I’d seen anywhere, and some of the largest by far.</p>
<p>The greatest sight however was the elephants. A large group were making the crossing from the one country to the other, and being able to observe seven or eight elephants swimming the half a kilometre distance, then emerge occasionally to traverse the grassy mudbanks in the centre of the river was absolutely spectacular. At one stage the whole troupe lined up as they edged their way along one bank and allowed us to get a photograph of them all trunk to tail in the waxing sunlight. It was really magnificent, and made up massively for how ill I was actually feeling underneath it all!</p>
<p>We crossed into Zambia by the Kazungula ferry which sits at the intersection of Botswana, Namibia, Zimbabwe and Zambia, and made our way directly to Livingstone. I saw a sign here that I can only assume was mis-painted. It read, “Please do not give arms to the small children”. I’m pretty sure that meant “alms”, but either way, it’s irresponsible.</p>
Journey into Africa: Mokoros2013-06-13T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-mokoros/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-10.jpg" alt="Bush Walk" />
<p>The next morning we boarded a shallow bottomed boat from the edge our our camp ground and took a brisk high speed journey through the grasslands of the delta to a landing point where dozens of local ‘pollers’ were on the banks hurriedly loading gear into their small dug out canoes.</p>
<p>The waters here are home to crocodiles, and en-route we were lucky enough to spot a number of smaller ones peering up from the clear waters, and notably are remarkably cute bearing in mind they’ll take your arm off in an instant.</p>
<p>We were assigned in pairs to a ‘mokoro’ canoe and so began two hours of completely blissful rest, gliding silently through the lilies, birdlife and tall reeds of the Okavango. The log dug outs were thankfully waterproof, and we’d been propped up on pillows made out of our kit bags and lying on the sleeping mats we’d brought from the tents. It was a real highlight for me - being pushed along by the local boatsmen and women using a three yard stick in our narrow canoes and basking in the warmth of the early morning sun.</p>
<p>Our destination was an island in the middle of the delta - this was not a civilised location - it was for all intents and purposes a true bush camp and there was a real risk of large game wildlife around us.</p>
<p>The toilet was a spade and a short walk out of the camp, and due to the nature of our location, the firm instruction was that no one was to go unaccompanied - and that after dusk a head torch should be used to check for the reflections of the eyes of any curious beasts beforehand - which made it all the more exciting...</p>
<p>The early part of the day was spent erecting tents in what soon became baking heat, and then we were giving the opportunity to try out polling the boats for ourselves. This proved to be good fun - at least in the downstream direction - however I seemed to have some issues getting the thing turned around and back up towards camp. Eventually we abandoned the boats and just cooled off in the beautiful freshwater.</p>
<p>That evening we were lead on a bush walk out into the centre of the island by our guide, called Labour. As an aside there were some other absolutely fantastic names I came across over the three week trip, two of the best being Moonlight and Office.</p>
<p>The walk was proving to be a relative failure, and we didn’t manage to spot anything until, just as the sun really began to fall low in the sky and we spotted a heard of zebra and wildebeast. On it’s own this might have been less spectacular, but they were caught between us, the treeline behind them, and the setting sun behind that. Something triggered them to stampede, and we left with the stunning view of the sun’s red glowing bauble in amongst the silhouette of the tall bowing palms and dozens of charging animals flowing from billowing clouds of orange dust.</p>
<p>Back at camp and after nightfall, the pollers performed a number of traditional Chechewan songs for us - an absolutely haunting experience - the harmonies and vocal sounds are absolutely captivating and it was a fantastic piece of local culture that I will remember for a long time.</p>
Journey into Africa: Botswana2013-06-13T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-botswana/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-9.jpg" alt="Okavango" />
<p>Our progress into central Botswana took us into the Kalahari desert, a huge dry expanse that overlaps Namibia and South Africa (very much sandier than I had seen elsewhere in Africa), and we were able to spend a little time on the edge of the giant salt flats - pure white, dusty sheets that seem to glow like a giant light table directly below the blue skies - providing an incredible contrast. I’d seen photos of salt flats in Bolivia and they looked stunning, but I hadn’t expected to see them here, and so was pleasantly surprised to experience them first hand.</p>
<p>We arrived in Maun that evening - a town on the edge of one of the most highly anticipated locations of the trip - the incredibly wildlife rich Okavango Delta.</p>
<p>The delta is a tectonic trough in the basin of the Kalahari, and quite bizarrely is the natural end of a series of rivers, yet is completely isolated from the sea or any other large body of water. The rivers simply flow into the flat expanses of the delta and evaporate or drain away underground.</p>
<p>It’s an incredible place - huge flatlands populated by stunning wild animals and relatively unpopulated for it’s swampy nature. And the best way to see this all is by plane, which is what we did next.</p>
<p>The ‘international’ airport in Maun is a one-eyed place, and as far as I could tell we were the only people there actually wanting to catch a flight. In fact there was some confusion on the tarmac as to which plane we were meant to get into, but once that was all sorted out our little Cessna took off, my first time in such a small (six seater) propeller aircraft.</p>
<p>It was both enjoyable and beautiful. Flying low and straight, the lush green grasses and trees are punctuated with deep blue pools and shining rivulets for miles in all directions, and the evening sun cast long shadows across the delta. The yellow sandy scrublands provides the ideal contrast for spotting the large herds of elephants and wildebeest, and the pilot repeatedly dropped one wing or the other in order that we had a near perpendicular (and stomach lurching) view of the crowded banks of wildlife.</p>
<p>The flight was an hour in total and despite my worries that my camera was no longer up to the job of long distance photography, I was really pleased with the images I managed to collect.</p>
<p>That evening provided one welcome respite for me. For everything positive about my African journey so far, the one thing I hadn’t realised until this point was that I had had almost no time entirely to myself. When activities are always arranged in groups, you travel together, and you are sharing a tent, it actually can be quite draining - and that evening I finally found myself alone with an ice cold Coca-Cola at the bar and completely indulged in the solace. I realised it was the first time in probably a week that I’d had enjoyed isolation.</p>
<p>Later that evening the group convened in the bar together to play get to know each other better. Although we’d been travelling for a few days now, the nature of these things is that you tend not to get a chance to speak to absolutely everyone socially until a few days in, so it was a good evening to learn the remaining names of the group.</p>
Journey into Africa: The Second Leg2013-06-12T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-the-second-leg/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-8.jpg" alt="Wildlife" />
<p>I arrived at the Airport Game Lodge as it was getting dark, and was quickly spun into a group meeting. There were twenty or so of us, and I was quite surprised to be the only Brit. There were an Irish couple, a handful of Russians, a few Canadians, a Canadian resident American, two Danish, two Norwegians, a Belgian, two Germans, two Brazilians and a Swiss. And then the South African tour leaders, Bongi and Marc.</p>
<p>The age of the group was a little older than I’d expected - not that that was a bad thing - but my experience on a similar trip in South America in 2011 had been a group mostly younger than me.</p>
<p>We spent a short exchanging introductions over billtong and red wine (courtesy of Brendan and Graceanne) but otherwise it was a relatively short evening before bed.</p>
<p>It turned out there were some good characters on the trip, and over the next ten days or so, I was to make some good friends.</p>
<p>We woke early the next morning (it seemed to be a theme in Africa) and we started our travels north, through Limpopo and over the border into neighbouring Botswana. That evening we camped in Serowe, pitching our tents within the bounds of the wild game reserve and under an absolutely incredible blanket of stars offered up by the southern hemisphere. Before sunset we took a jeep safari into the park which was my first encounter with wild African rhinos; vast white-grey concrete slabs of creatures that appear much larger than I can remember of their single-horned Indian cousins.</p>
<p>Travelling overland in Africa is quite understandably a challenge. My transport proved to be relatively reliable for the duration, so it’s not that that’s the main concern these days, it’s mainly that you are seated for long periods of time travelling the vast distances between places. I have experienced sustained long distance road travel before on my Canadian road trip ten years ago, and had come prepared for the slog. There is much time confined to your seat (whether on the road or in a Mokoro canoe), so it’s good to be able to indulge in some interesting conversation, which didn’t seem to be problem here.</p>
<p>Our vehicle was a custom built box of a truck with comfortable seats, and the cabin was raised high above the normal height of a normal coach so as to ensure good clear views out of the windows. It also carried wholesale enough camping kit, personal equipment, food and water to sustain the whole group for the duration, so you can imagine that it isn’t the most dainty of creatures. The absolute highlight of it though were the power inverters and refrigerated boxes built in. A complete luxury, but being able to guarantee a charged camera battery at the right time is a real bonus.</p>
<p>Unfortunately one of the plights of travel is the gamble of which travel adapter you need in any particular country. I have one that until this year had done every single socket type I’ve ever encountered, but was absolutely scuppered to discover the South Africans (and so our truck) still use a very old British standard plug which is completely alien to my adapter, and so began the ritual of ‘stacking’ through a variety of convertors until finally the result looked like a Lego construction by satan himself.</p>
Journey into Africa: Johannesburg2013-06-12T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-johannesburg/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-7.jpg" alt="Mandela" />
<p>Departures at Malawi was tedious (I can see why Madonna got frustrated when she was downgraded here). The brand new biometric finger printing delayed us, and therefore the whole flight, being the only one due to depart that day. An hour and a bit later we eventually boarded the plane and made our way to Johannesburg.</p>
<p>On the plane, I ended up in a conversation with an interesting guy from the World Food Programme that meant I got no further into my still relatively neglected book, and we ended up swapping stories about Nepal all the way until we finally arrived at the carousels.</p>
<p>In Johannesburg, I had pre-booked two nights with Airbnb for a homestay in the Randberg suburb, and from the airport took the smart Gautrain (the G is pronounced as a gutteral ‘H’) across to Rosebank station where I was picked up by my two hosts. Symi, and her wife Ava made me incredibly welcome from the get go - and I was introduced to the menagerie of friendly dogs and cats in the house before being plied with South African food - teas, curry, ciders and wine. It was excellent.</p>
<p>They were incredibly accommodating and kindly arranged for me to be taken on a personal tour of the city the next day - a trip that I hoped could illuminate my incredibly poor understanding of South African history.</p>
<p>Before arriving I had no understanding of how the apartheid policies had arisen, or even how long it had been going on before it ended in the early 1990s. I was therefore incredibly grateful for the guide’s piquant choice of stopping off points, and I'd happily recommend any of them for anyone who wants a good and clear view of the past 150 years of SA history.</p>
<p>We stopped first in Sophiatown - the site of the first segregated 'removals' in the mid-1950s. Thousands were displaced, and their houses bulldozed before being forcibly transported to new government provided accommodation in the townships, such as the famous Soweto district (originally South West Township). Only two buildings in all of Sophiatown escaped the misery of the clearances, and one is the museum/gallery we visited - a house of a former President of the ANC in the 1940s.</p>
<p>Even more significantly the house was the site where a young Nelson Mandela and his ANC Youth League contemporaries visited in one occasion to try to persuade the then president to bless their campaign of governmental non-cooperation, but the young upstarts were eventually chased from the house, their plan rejected, and it would be sometime yet before they actively began their campaign of sabotage.</p>
<p>Sophiatown was eventually renamed 'Triompf' (Afrikaans, ironically meaning ‘Triumph’) and the old name has only recently been reintroduced to the area.</p>
<p>The next stop on my tour was Mandela's early family home. This style of traditional township house was initially a great improvement for many of the black and displaced populations who had come from slums, and they were all were built to very similar specifications, with running water and other modern amenities. However, over time the gloss wore off these simple buildings and these once practical houses began to show their age quickly.</p>
<p>The current incarnation of the building as a museum unfortunately is not really much of a worthwhile experience. Other than the four external walls, the interior has been completely removed and the contents are almost entirely banal awards and diplomas awarded by various institutions. I'm pretty sure Madiba (as he is colloquially and affectionately known here) wouldn't recognise the place as the house he'd once inhabited, and although worth a short visit simply for context, it would be the only place I'd have sacrificed in lieu of other, better sights in Johannesburg.</p>
<p>The next stop marked another poignant moment in apartheid history. Hector Pieterson was a thirteen year old schoolboy, shot in the midst of protests by predominantly black students in the mid-1970s over the introduction of an ill-considered policy of compulsory education in Afrikaans. The overnight introduction of this blanket policy was the start of much friction between the government and the student bodies who suddenly were adversely affected on account that the vast majority were not Afrikaans literate.</p>
<p>The policy was eventually overturned, but not before Pieterson and several other hundreds school children had died in widespread violence in the townships. Today a large museum and memorial stands on the site of the shooting and provides an excellent, modern insight into the various troubled relationships between the communities and government during that era.</p>
<p>Soweto today is a sprawling city that is bigger than Johannesburg itself. The bizarre world of the township is still incredibly self-evident here. Township houses vary in shape and size, but many I saw are grouped in barbed-wired topped concrete pens, split apart from each other by the intersection of major roadways or rivers. Some of the less affluent townships now overflow so that squat amongst the reeds, others under flyovers, and in Soweto, arranged in row after row after row.</p>
<p>Some townships are in relatively good repair - ownership rights were granted on the dissolution of apartheid - and so some are looked after well, but for those in squeezed areas and poorer districts, they are all but hovels and other rudimentary tin and timber structures have been built within the gaps.</p>
<p>I didn't see the worst of the townships - what was visible from the roads in the most part was fairly neat, but you do get the occasional glimpse through the razor wire or through a missing concrete slab in a graffiti-riddled wall. There is also danger here - not that I was exposed to any - but it was repeated to me a few times that you don't stop at red lights after dark in Johannesburg, nor do you drive with your windows fully up (it stiffens the glass which makes it an easier task to smash with a crowbar at an intersection). Security (like everywhere I've been in Africa) is a massive concern of daily life, and every brick built house squats in a concrete or iron-fenced compound, and comes with a big board showing which particular company will provide the armed response. It's quite a strange sight for European eyes.</p>
<p>That afternoon I found myself standing atop the Oppenheimer tower, a modest round rough yellow brick lookout, from where can see the Soweto township flow out in all directions. The local guide lives off the tips from the tourists he takes up here, and so I was incredibly surprised to discover in our conversation that he had once worked on a collaboration with the Birmingham Royal Ballet about fifteen years earlier. With some regret, he explained to me it had all come to an end when the various organisers moved on.</p>
<p>The tower we stood on had been built to commemorate the founder of townships, who had come up with the idea sometime in the C19th. Although any additional facts about it were scarce, it seemed the original purpose of the townships had simply been to provide better accommodation for the slum-living poor and expanding population of gold rush Johannesburg.</p>
<p>And if the tower was testament to an old vision of the city, the Soweto Theatre is testament to the new, vibrant (and even slick) side of the township’s development. Although not entirely convinced we had permission to visit, my guide was relentless (and I think she wanted to see it herself) and it was probably the most beautiful new performance space I've seen anywhere. Really.</p>
<p>It's quite quirky architecturally - a huge glass lobby with tiered walkways stretching between three giant, fused candy cubes that contain the variously sized performance spaces. One of the girls on the front desk was kind enough to agree to give us a quick tour. It wasn't a long stop, but it was fascinating to see some bold social architecture going up in the district.</p>
<p>My final stop of the day was the most important for me - the Apartheid Museum. This huge complex is set in beautiful grounds with views over the city and in a beautiful modern building. Cleverly, you are arbitrarily assigned a "white" or "non-white" ticket, which is a simple and brilliant way of instantly generating empathy before you even enter the turnstiles - and it does have a physical bearing on your journey through the museum.</p>
<p>The place is vast - I got there early afternoon and just about managed to get around the whole thing before it closed at 5pm, but I did have to rush the last part. I also skipped a couple of scene setting videos - however I can't express how much I would recommend this place if you are in Johannesburg - it's packed with easy to follow displays (cleverly designed so you can skim the head notes, or read in great detail if you choose) and some impressive exhibits.</p>
<p>The only thing that didn't work was for some reason they had slammed a temporary Mandela exhibition in the early part of the museum (this alone took me an hour or so) but I think was only there because they couldn't find space to locate it anywhere else, yet it really disrupted the flow and I had to walk 100m back on myself to rejoin the main exhibition which was still talking about the nineteenth century, so it didn't quite gel. It wasn't that it wasn't a good exhibit, it was just oddly organised.</p>
<p>We drove back through more townships as the sun set, and by the time is returned there was a vast "braii" (South African BBQ) on the go, stacked with ribs, sausage and chicken. It was a truly incredible experience.</p>
<p>Symi and Ava had also been kind enough to help me gather a series of South African delicacies that Sian had demanded I tried while I was in the country. I tried Koeksister, malva pudding, bean banana salad, wet billtong, some kind of lychee juice and Fanta grape. All enjoyable new experiences.</p>
<p>But that was about it for Johannesburg. That evening I left the girls and headed for my next meeting point - a hotel where I would meet the rest of the traveling party for the next leg of my journey through Botswana and into Zambia.</p>
Journey into Africa: The Rugby2013-06-11T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-the-rugby/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-5.jpg" alt="Rugby" />
<p>That Monday was the first real day on the core project. We were working with 300 kids from two primary schools, one of which the expedition had visited the previous year, and one new to the project; they were Mngwangwa and Mzumanzi.</p>
<p>The setup is as follows; the seven expedition coaches are split between the two schools, and the kids (an equal mix of boys and girls) and staff usually have no prior experience with the sport. The aim is that over the course of five days they are trained up on basic ball skills which eventually progresses to an understanding of touch rugby. On the final day of the week we fix up a tournament between the two schools.</p>
<p>Additionally, the team leaves behind balls, markers and teaching resources - with the hope that the newly trained staff enable the school to continue playing once the expedition has moved on. The bigger aim is to bring the game into communities in countries in Africa where there is limited or no existing access to the sport.</p>
<p>Football is by far the most popular sport in these countries, but excludes girls and is often the only option. The Rugby in Africa expedition programme helps the kids develop skills such as sportsmanship and teamwork, and collaborations with local and international businesses also allow them to deliver an effective general health and security awareness scheme at the same time.</p>
<p>The bumpy ride out on Monday morning started at 6am, and we had to pick up Wordsworth - our man on the ground - and Jean - one of the sports teachers - en route.</p>
<p>The cityscape fades away towards the outskirts of Lilongwe, and the roads quickly break down into pure dust tracks that divide the vast fields of maize and tobacco. It's a novelty for trucks to be seen out there, and whilst many of locals just stare, the kids would enthusiastically wave or chase the vehicles as we passed.</p>
<p>Around an hour of suspension-battering driving later, and we would reach the schools, separated from each other by 7km. The headmaster at Mzumanzi was a jolly, sixty year old fellow in green felt suit. He was called Axwell. We had to engage him for his help almost immediately when - against our express plea that we didn’t want to do anything to disrupt lessons - he accidentally dismissed the whole school for the day.</p>
<p>Curious visitors with colourful trucks and strange sports were clearly a huge distraction, and by 8am a tide of kids was washing over the school pitch. There should have been around 50 children with us, but by this stage there were well over 1000.</p>
<p>With a little persuasion from the teachers and some effective chasing away, the pitch was finally cleared, and the sessions could begin in earnest.</p>
<p>We spent the next three days at these schools, and I flitted between the two with Rich. Down at Mgongwe, things seemed to be less chaotic and this perhaps was in part down to the headmaster actively joining in the learning and teaching of the game. Teaching coaches how to coach a game they’ve never played before, while actively coaching the kids, is never going to be really simple task but progress seemed to be good regardless.</p>
<p>To give some idea of the environment we were in, each school comprised of a series of crude tin-roofed long houses; sometimes plastered, sometimes not. A sandy red grove filled with stupid goats filled the space between the various buildings; tufts of brush were growing here and there, and on the edges of the school grounds, bright green and yellow cassia trees bloom brightly.</p>
<p>Each school hut is divided so it forms two square rooms, and has a entrance at each end with steep double step to get up to the open doorway (I presume to keep the stupid goats out, and rainwater).</p>
<p>Inside the temperature is significantly cooler - surprisingly so - but the gloom inside was brightened by the reflection of sunlight that floods through the pierced brick 'windows' onto the yellowed plasterwork.</p>
<p>Blackboards were painted onto one wall of each classroom, and thirty or so bench desks packed as far back into the room as possible. Average class sizes here are around 120 kids, and the classroom no larger than any you'd find in the UK.</p>
<p>But for all the dilapidation, the places are dry, simple and quite beautiful in the morning sunlight. Some buildings are in greater need of attention than others, and the open grounds and incredible settings (the playing field had 360 views with no sign of civilisation at all) are an enviable asset.</p>
<p>That first afternoon Rich and I had a meeting with the local office of G4S, and this was my first chance to meet the key project contacts. Lilongwe's office is somewhat of an outpost, and we all shuffled around a single office desk in order to discuss progress and what would be expected in the week ahead.</p>
<p>Most of those in attendance were local staff, however we were also joined by an ex-pat director, and Maryka, our main contact from the head office in South Africa.</p>
<p>Wordsworth also arranged for us to meet the District Education Manager, who's office is reached by navigating a labyrinth of corridors in a bungalow office block, filled alternately by teetering piles of thin brown folders and administrators perched on school desks between towers of unfiled papers. He was happy to hear of our progress (he had been involved last year also) and made provision to come along and watch the festivities planned on the Friday.</p>
<p>Our final stop of the day was to meet Serge and Dave, two brothers who own the largest ISP in Malawi and supporters of the project. They are also thoroughly nice guys, and when Rich and I popped by just briefly for introductions, they insisted we joined them and their kids for a drink and a tour of their adjoining houses.</p>
Journey into Africa: The British High Commission2013-06-11T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-the-british-high-commission/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-6.jpg" alt="Malawi" />
<p>That evening we went out for team curry, but on our return journey our taxi driver (who had been playing a risky game with his petrol gauge on the outbound journey) predictably ran out of fuel halfway up a hill, in pitch black downtown Lilongwe.</p>
<p>Ryan, Mike, Jon and I were desperate to get the car to the garage at the summit of the hill as quickly as we could - pushing it onwards - but unfortunately the sound of laughter roared past from the second taxi as the rest of our party gloated past us before we could get the evidence off the road.</p>
<p>On the next evening, we had been invited to join the recently reformed Lilongwe Rugby Club for a game of touch rugby, followed by an invitation for later in the evening to attend the Tamarind Club BBQ at the British High Commission. In crumpled shirts and smart shoes, we found ourselves in the secure compound, standing poolside, drinking free (French?) beer and enjoying platters of grilled meat. Quite bizarre and a significant contrast to much of the rest of our experience in Lilongwe, but an interesting evening.</p>
<p>And so rolled around my final full day with the expedition. Wednesday.</p>
<p>The progress at the schools had been good, and the kids seemed to be still glowing with enthusiasm for the opportunity to play. Some of the coaches had started to earn their stripes (a tangerine coach’s t-shirt) and crowd control seemed to no longer an issue.</p>
<p>G4S had been supplying refreshments each day, but there was an almighty cheer of delight when, to the surprise of everyone, Maryke appeared with a waterbutt of squash balanced on her head in the traditional African manner.</p>
<p>Each child received a plastic cup of the drink and a pack of biscuits at the end of their session each day. They queued silently in line to wash their hands under a stream of water poured from the butt, then they would hold their empty cup in the bowl of their one hand, ready for it to be filled up. They’d then take their biscuits with their other hand, and without fail, place the packet in their pocket for later. I have no idea why this was the case, but they were all incredibly disciplined about it and I didn’t see any great rush to eat them there and then.</p>
<p>That final evening Serge arranged a special meal for us at a restaurant called Buchannan's where he kindly picked up the tab. It was the first time we had a chance to ask questions about the state of the country and discuss the place, and it proved to be especially interesting to hear about the recent Madonna debacle and the politics of the place.</p>
<p>The next morning, Rich and I enjoyed a late and lazy Thursday breakfast at Mabuya Camp before departing for the airport. Tanzania and Malawi had been enjoyable new experiences - and the latter of the two has made a significant impact on me. The long expanses of time on the road gave me time to forge a series of new friendships with the expedition team (JP, Ryan, Ben, Jon, Guilliame, Dave and Mike) as well as getting to encounter some absolutely incredible wildlife.</p>
<p>But the most significant impact was being able to be part of the Rugby in Africa project, which in turn allowed me to witness the bizarre mix of sheer beauty and absolute poverty of rural Malawi, whilst yet also witnessing the a bunch of incredibly joyous kids embracing a brand new sport.</p>
Journey into Africa: Lake Nyasa2013-06-10T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-lake-nyasa/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-4.jpg" alt="Baboon" />
<p>The journey had taken us up through a series of mountains, with incredible views over Lake Nyasa and the occasional roadside baboon that made for an excellent photo. Eventually we descended down to the edge of the lake, and found home in a cliff side cluster of wooden huts that nestled in amongst the trees and sewn together by a series of bricked paths and wooden walkways.</p>
<p>We arrived just as the sun was setting and the blue and yellow lake flickered under the wooden veranda of the camp's bar. Warm showers and cold beers made it an excellent location to break the journey, and we took the opportunity to enjoy a late night.</p>
<p>Rich produced three cartons of something labelled "Shake Shake, International Beer". Like nothing have ever tasted before, this alcoholic slush has all the charm of battery acid mixed with milk. The slurry texture it has is like someone added the end of a bag of Dorritos and left it to rot in the bottom. Apparently it is something of a local delicacy, but for why, I have no idea.</p>
<p>It turned into a late evening, with some injuries sustained (Mike spectacularly managed to cut his nose on the felt of a pool table in a manner that I never thought possible).</p>
<p>The next day we took our battered bodies out onto the lake with a local guide. There was cliff jumping, fish eagle watching, and best of all - the opportunity to assist local fishermen pull their haul of whitebait in. It's extraordinary how much net brings in a relatively small catch of fish, but the silver flickering tube-like bodies glimmer brilliantly metallic under the blue skies, and the local kids all come down to pull the stragglers out of the worn black mesh.</p>
<p>Once that task been completed, we played some beach games and finally a slightly more than five-aside beach football tournament with the local kids. Some epic demonstration of technique by Ben - using his head alone, but while completely lying on the sand - almost redefined the modern game as we know it.</p>
<p>Before the day was over Dave, JP, Jon and I commandeered the resort’s two canoes and we spent the final few minutes of sunlight playing about back on the lake.</p>
<p>One delightful aside to this is that most sub-Saharan African freshwater is plagued by parasitic snails - the cause of the rather nasty and dangerous bilharzia - and so now back in the UK, getting the right stuff to kill their eggs before they start hatching out of you is just one thing to do upon your return.</p>
<p>We moved on again the following morning and made tracks to the capital of Malawi, Lilongwe. Sunset here is at 5.30, and so we made another early start in order to make the most of the light. That afternoon we arrived in Mabuya Camp, a series of two-bed thatched cabins with the use of a bar and pool, and effectively home for the next week.</p>
<p>We met some girls at the bar and invited them to join us at the famous Lilongwean Friday night hotspot, Harry's Bar. We partied until the early hours.</p>
<p>Despite this, I was still needed up early the next day to accompany Rich to make a visit to the two local schools we would work with that week. It took an hour of incredibly bumpy track travel, and here we met the various staff who would be working with us in the subsequent days.</p>
<p>After that, I took the rest of Saturday and Sunday to recover, and made the most of the pool and the only physical book I’d bought with me. Jon and I were up for cooking duty on the one evening, and whipped up BBQ'd honey and ginger chicken, guacamole with pumpkin and sweet potato mash, and a dessert of sweet papaya rice. From what I could work out, it thankfully seemed to have be well received.</p>
Journey into Africa: Into Malawi2013-06-10T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-into-malawi/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-3.jpg" alt="Lion" />
<p>Mikumi National Park is split by a single lane main road that provides excellent easy game viewing for the observant. Unfortunately the fact that herds of wild animals freely roam from one side to the other doesn't deter the menace of the high speed trucks. The danger is for both driver and animal, as it isn't unheard of them running into elephants at a pace.</p>
<p>Thankfully we were able to make our journey at a more leisurely pace, and arrived close to sunset as the air was cooling and their was a greater likelihood of spotting game than under the beating heat of the midday sun.</p>
<p>We were lucky. Both that evening and the following morning on a the three hour sunrise game drive through the park, we spotted scores of spritely fawn-coloured impalas, warthogs, wildebeest, buffalo and then even more impressively, elephants, giraffes, hippos, zebras and then most fantastically of all - a pride of lions.</p>
<p>We'd had to make little effort to find any of them, but I'd been careful to lower my expectations that we might ever be lucky enough to spot a lion or leopard as I know others who have spent longer in Africa and never seen either. But as we moved through one of the grassy plains, we spotted the rising backs of four sandy cats.</p>
<p>It soon became clear what they were and as the lead truck we were in prime position to get the best view. They began to cross in front of the car, and Rich did his best to move the vehicle far enough forward to keep edging the lions ahead of us. It was utterly incredible as they were less than a meter from the right side of the truck, and after they made eye contact, we made a decision to wind up the windows...</p>
<p>Although glancing up occasionally to give an acid look, they had no intention of making way for our elephant sized truck, and continued to paw slowly across the road in before finally disappearing under the bushes to our left and out of sight.</p>
<p>Whilst we were camping, food was always prepared on a rota, and for accommodation, an option of ground or roof tents on the vehicles. Our starts were usually before sunrise in order to keep out of the worst of the heat, and to also to make as much a progress as possible bearing in mind that delays seemed to be par for the course.</p>
<p>Following the exceptional experience of the game drive, we hit the road once more and drove to our next destination in Tanzania - Kisalansa via Iringa . Ryan and I had been tasked with the evening meal which we prepared under the headlights of one of the trucks and to a refined soundtrack provided by Mike - a selection of Elgar and most likely the most civilised camping experience of all of time. Later that evening a few of us retreated indoors to a mud shack snug for a final Tangawizi (a local sweet ginger beer) before bed.</p>
<p>Next we travelled through Mbeya to our next camp, which also housed a rough school house. We were loaned the use of the school's projector for the evening, so threw on a film to dodge the occasional showers of rain.</p>
<p>The next morning brought an unwanted surprise - one of the Land Cruisers wouldn't start and it looked like we were going to have to tow it to the border. Thankfully it turned out we were able to jump the auxiliary battery and get underway.</p>
<p>Customs was the usual mix of form filling and photographs, but we sorted the carnets (an FiA document required for the transport of vehicles over borders), made it over the border and arrived at our first Malawian camp that evening - the stunning Nkhata Bay.</p>
Journey into Africa: Tanzania2013-06-09T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-tanzania/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-1.jpg" alt="Rugby in Africa Trucks" />
<p>Arriving in Africa is a cocktail of perplexing bureaucratic rituals, queues and vaguely defined payments required to procure visas. It's at this point it’s advisable to permanently drop into a gear usually reserved for lazy Sunday afternoons.</p>
<p>Eddie my taxi driver was, as Rich had put it, "a man of few words" and aside from managing to picking up a few Swahili phrases, my chauffeured drive was a quiet but sunny one.</p>
<p>It was Friday, and International School Tanginyka was playing host to a day-long rugby tournament, put on by <a href="http://www.rugbyinafrica.org/">Bhubesi Pride</a>, the expeditionary charity that was established by my university friend Rich three years ago, and to which I am attached as a trustee.</p>
<p>A core function of the charity is to conduct an annual trek working it’s way down 7,000Km from Ethiopia to South Africa, a journey which lasts six months. It is formed of a team of seven coaching staff who deliver a programme of education through sport, introducing mixed touch rugby to around thirty primary and secondary schools in ten countries. Combined with the provision of kit, enabling schools to foster their own coaching talent, and introducing life skills such as discipline and leadership the project has grown in size and credibility year on year, and it was great to finally get the chance to finally get involved in the most practical output of the organisation.</p>
<p>Even in the late Tanzanian evening the sun was still a dry, burning force through the windows of the taxi and again later as I paused pitch side to watch the final minutes of the last of the days matches in Dar es Salaam.</p>
<p>Having successfully sought out Rich, I met the trek team, as well as a number of guests from South African Rugby legends who had been flown up by South Africa Rugby for the event - including ex-players Dale Santon, and national selector Ian “Mac” McIntosh.</p>
<p>While the team finished up at the school, I spent some time with Swai, one of the G4S support staff who provide vehicular assistance during the expedition, and help to sustain the programme once the team have departed. It was my first time in an African city, and great to be able to get a first hand insight into Tanzanian life.</p>
<p>We spent the evening in the bar, but my memories of Dar es Salaam are some of the most bizarrely polar of the whole trip. My first night’s accommodation was in the vacant flat of a local British shipping agent, but before I could move in, we had to claim the keys from him at a big black tie event he was attending in the Kilimanjaro Hyatt hotel.</p>
<p>Rocking up in flip flops and a tee to a formal event might have raised a few eyebrows normally, but this English, ex-pat laden St George's Day ball was already more bizarre than my attire; as we discovered when the night's cabaret started. A man dressed in a gold leotard and a black handlebar moustache danced around the stage to in an freaky Freddy Mercury/Madonna tribute performance. It was surreal, but the crowd lapped it up.</p>
<p>When I finally got to the flat, it was a great plush place with a sweeping view over the Indian Ocean and a well stocked fridge, and provided a great first nights sleep and launch pad for the first big drive of the trip the next morning; travelling from Dar es Salaam down to Morogoro, and into Makumi National Park.</p>
Journey into Africa: First Taste of the Continent2013-06-09T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/journey-into-africa-first-taste-of-the-continent/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/africa-2.jpg" alt="Africa" />
<p>In the 10 days travelling with the Bhubesi Pride, we would be covering 1700 kilometres in the three Land Cruisers, taking us down from Tanzania into and through the narrow strip of country that borders the western side of Lake Nyasa, Malawi.</p>
<p>One assumption I had made about Africa for many years was that it is an incredibly barren, sandy place. This very general view was eventually upturned when a good friend of mine who worked in Uganda showed me photographs, and I was simply dumbfounded to discover how lush parts of the place actually are.</p>
<p>My personal experience of the continent was similar. Great rich earthy trails of red, amber and ochre form streaks across huge plains of deep green foliage and scrubland. Huge white outcrops soar up through groves of yellow-pocked acacia trees, chunky bare-trunked baobabs and the fluttering sprouts of the banana plants.</p>
<p>Blade-like roads slice directly through villages where bright white eyes peer out from under the leafy shade of communal trees, and terracotta coloured, tin-roofed houses are lined up like matchboxes to each side of the varying qualities of tarmac - which range from rough to barely present.</p>
<p>Massive sapphire blue skies roll out in every direction and form a huge canopy over endless miles of fields of yellow and green, full of towering sunflowers, maize and tobacco.</p>
<p>Occasionally the road opens up just enough to pack in a market; stuffed with roughly stacked palm baskets brimming with odd pairs of shoes, coloured fabrics and bric-a-brac. From amongst the metal stalls, squads of primary school children stare open mouthed (or while chewing languidly on leek-like sticks of sugar cane) calling out "wazungu" at us as we pass by in our convoy of 4x4s. (Note: the nickname wazungu or mzunga is not a particularly acceptable one, yet seemed to be widely used wherever we went. It literally translates as white skin.)</p>
<p>Roughly cut hot potato slices bubble in oily circular stoves, and are handed out like goldfish in translucent green polythene bags for just a few shillings (Tanzania) or qwatcha (Malawi).</p>
<p>In Malawi, each small village contains without fail a set of buildings daubed either red or white and lime; the stalls operated by the two main competing phone network brands.</p>
<p>Tanzania's roads are blighted by two major pests; the thundering trucks who bolt past with little regard for speed limits or any level of self maintenance (most crawl sideways as the wheel tracking is so horrendously far out) and secondly the 'hairdryer' (speed gun) equipped police who vigorously enforce speed restrictions and tax infractions on anyone who looks like they would be prepared to pay the fine.</p>
<p>There is quite a clear problem with corruption here. In the first three or four days of travel alone we were stopped over a dozen times by the fluorescent-coated police patrols that block the roads at regular intervals across all major routes, and who in various ways tried to levy all manner of spurious fines upon us. Rich prides himself in having never having to have paid a single one - most can be made to go away with a friendly handshake and a smile, begging forgiveness or simply arguing the point forcibly. Whether anyone has ever actually been fined for committing a genuine crime remains an enigma.</p>
<p>Other roadside decorations include piles of thick rubber belts that once were lorry tyres that have been abandoned where they exploded. Quite commonly the side or backend of a jackknifed truck juts up from a ditch or from the trees that line the roads.</p>
<p>Hoards of young traders flock at the intersections of large towns and cities, carrying crates of glass bottled soft drinks or corn cobs skewered on the end of long sticks so that truck drivers can pluck them up from within their cab, and drop their coins into the open palms below.</p>
<p>Between each village, bicycles and pedestrians border the thoroughfares and women stack huge loads upon their heads - fruits, foods, parcels and most extraordinarily of all, huge lengths of rough cut timber.</p>
Fiji, Hong Kong, Vietnam 2012: Part 42012-11-14T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/fiji-hong-kong-vietnam-2012-part-4/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/fhkv-3.jpg" alt="Vietnam" width="480" height="279" />
<h4>Vietnam (continued)</h4>
<p>I woke late to a breakfast of eggs, a swim and then we travelled back to Ho Chi Minh city, only stopping en route to meet another of George's friend's - Aileen, in yet another coffee shop.</p>
<p>The afternoon was spent working back through photos, then later that evening George and I grabbed the bike and took to Bui Vien (the equivalent of Thailand's Koh San road I guess) where we sat out and soaked up the hustle of the city at night with yet more new faces - Mac and Anh.</p>
<p>When beer is served in Vietnam, is it done over a thick slab of ice. The glasses are often like traditional glass tankards, but filled with the pale fizz of Saigon Red or Green, and floating in each, a huge crystal iceberg. Alongside, Bui Vien provides an astonish array of 'pub snacks' - the most common being dried jellyfish (which is about the only thing I didn't like) and slices of a hard Cambodian mango, dipped in chilli powder mix.</p>
<p>We'd booked Wednesday to do the first significantly cultural trip of my time in Vietnam - a coach trip to the Cu Chi tunnels, and site of a great organised resistance against American ground forces for around a decade during the war.</p>
<p>My knowledge of the conflict was woeful before I visited, but it was something I wanted to know more about.</p>
<p>Cu Chi is a labyrinth of underground tunnels that were constructed by six neighbouring villages in the early stages of the war, and were an elaborate display of extreme survival and often horrific ingenuity.</p>
<p>The safeguards put in place to protect the tunnels often relied on repurposing un-detonated American ordinance in booby traps, but at least many of those were quick ways "to go". The more 'traditional' traps were far less appealing, and in many cases if you accidentally stepped on the wrong patch of earth or entered the building you were going to be impaled on sharpened bamboo or 9-inch nails, before being lacerated by the secondary "features". Some pretty goring ways to go.</p>
<p>Bowling through the tunnels itself is good fun but not for the claustrophobic. The strong, clay-steeped earth requires no additional structure to create warrens, but in the most part they are less than 3 foot high, and 2 foot wide, in pitched blackness, stuffed with hot, wet air - and the inevitable consequence that you rub your back and arms up against the dampish walls means you pop out a breathless, red-dusted, sweaty mess.</p>
<p>Part of the Cu Chi experience that is intriguingly evocative is the constant, clear, sound of heavy gunfire. Anywhere else in the world this would be an unsettling distorted facsimile played over loudspeakers, but this is 'Nam, and for the price of a cinema ticket at the end of your visit you can load up an M-16 and let it rip into a big stack of churned up earth.</p>
<p>Naturally, they don't just hand these things over to the tourists. It's run by military personnel, and the guns are strapped to the wall to stop anyone getting a bit too gung ho, but having fired both shotguns and various rifles in the past, the impact of the recoil of these automatic weapons is an incredible sensation and in reality, pretty horrifying.</p>
<p>Once back in Ho Chi Minh I spent the next two days occupying myself with reading, sorting photos and resting in the hammock. I visited the War Remnants Museum, a fascinating collection of artefacts and stories, and although quite clearly visited by westerners, no Americans in sight.</p>
<p>This might sound obvious, but actually the Vietnamese don't seem to be embittered by the presence of the Americans, and if anything the US visitors we did encounter seemed somewhat humble in the most part. It's perhaps testament to the success of the reintroduction of full diplomatic relations in 1995 .</p>
<p>The museum is also surprisingly matter of fact. Whole truth or not, it is clear that incredible atrocities were levelled upon the Viet population during those years, but there is no sense of glorious victory presented here. Actually very little emphasis is dedicated to the final days of the war and how it ended with the American retreat.</p>
<p>The most potent part of the display though was on the top floor. A photographic exhibition following twenty or so photo-journalists through the war (from both sides) and a fascinating yet often poignant chart of events.</p>
<p>From the 'classic' LIFE images of US troops heading out, to the shocking images of the human consequence of war, it was often moving. You watch in shock as you go from a field photo of soldiers in action, to a photo of the same photographer taken in just seconds after; yet now she lies curled up under the crouched figure of an army chaplain administering the last rites. It's just one of handful of tragic personal stories presented alongside their images.</p>
<p>I would highly recommend it, but it's important to remember many places in Vietnam close for lunch at twelve, so unless you are willing to wait for an hour and a half, it's much better to get there before 10am if you intend to view the whole museum without being unceremoniously booted out!</p>
<p>And so my time in Vietnam was drawing to a close. Friday evening was to be my last experience, and George had suggested we go for food at the famous "Black Cat". This quirky little joint is tucked just on the edge of the city near the water and serves absolutely an excellent burger and A&W root beer. The perfect way to round off three weeks of sheer enjoyment.</p>
<p>Mac happened to be on the same flight as me back to Manchester, but despite our best efforts, we failed to secure the upgrade we'd bean teased that we would get by the check-in staff. So from there on in, it was just a 14 hour journey via Dubai back to the wonderful clear blue skies of the UK, and an astonishingly cold 0ºC temperature, for which I was most certainly not dressed or prepared.</p>
<p>And so the question pops into my head once more. Where next?</p>
Fiji, Hong Kong, Vietnam 2012: Part 32012-11-13T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/fiji-hong-kong-vietnam-2012-part-3/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/fhkv-4.jpg" alt="Vietnam" width="480" height="279" />
<h4>Hong Kong</h4>
<p>The night before I departed Nadi for the final time I dropped a quick Facebook message to an old school friend who lives in Kowloon and might be open to catching up for a couple of hours while I was in transit.</p>
<p>I checked my luggage right through to Ho Chi Minh and so was able to dive out of the airport at around 2pm just in time to grab a few hours here, and be treated to some of the finest food in the city.</p>
<p>Oli was a couple of years below me at school and we shared an interest in electronics and digital stuff, so although he now works in recruitment, conversation naturally gravitated back to tech over dinner.</p>
<p>Having suffered a diet of airline food for 10 hours, Oli was quite keen to ensure I try some seasonal local delicacies, and as I was quite happy to do it in style, so we managed to track down a place that was serving whole crab and roe, and had an enjoyable time breaking the delicious white meat out of the shells and making a general mess of the place.</p>
<p>It was a short and enjoyable diversion. It's definitely nice to know people in far flung places.</p>
<p>And so, back on a plane.</p>
<h4>Vietnam</h4>
<p>Having travelled to South East Asia a handful of times before, it still sometimes surprises me that I've never made it to Vietnam before, especially since it's often considered such an integral part of the circuit out there.</p>
<p>Just as I boarded the flight from Hong Kong, I happened to re-read a text message from George about pickup from the airport. He'd said Monday. But before I had time to digest this fully, I had been press-ganged through the boarding gate, and it wasn't until mid-flight that it occurred to me that I was actually due to land on Sunday.</p>
<p>Ah.</p>
<p>I walked out of the doors of the airport with a sense of trepidation, and deservedly so, as George was nowhere in sight. It was 1am now, and I quickly came to a decision that I was going to have to resort to a hotel for the evening. Unfortunately, with no way of reaching George, no guidebook and no idea what the currency exchange rates are, I had to 'trust' the ever-so-eager taxi drivers to let me know what an acceptable rate would be. I knew I was being fleeced, but there was so very little I could do about it.</p>
<p>Actually it worked out ok the end. The driver picked a good, comfortable hotel with free wi-fi, and I was able to quickly fire out a SOS message to George by email. What was frustrating though was in my exhaustion, I had paid little attention to the fact reception had retained my passport when I'd handed it over willingly, and only the next morning when I went to retrieve it, discovered someone had removed the £20 emergency note that I leave tucked into the cover. But if that's the worst thing that happened to me on the whole trip, then I won't complain wildly.</p>
<p>I was awoken by the shrill ring of my hotel telephone. It was about 6.30am, and it was George, who was incredibly apologetic and already standing in reception. Luckily for him, I forgave him (well, I needed somewhere to stay!), and we went off to grab breakfast. I also know he won't get to live this down :)</p>
<p>One of the best things about Asia is getting breakfast.</p>
<p>I love a good English fry up, or a continental spread, but to be honest the asian attempts at this are usually barbaric (not for want of trying, but carrots with a fry up? No, no, no.) and you are far better off going for something that the locals would eat, and this generally means something you would never get at home.</p>
<p>We slipped into the open-fronted cafe between the low trestle tables and the small polyprop stools, and perched up against a couple of Vietnamese strangers who were already slurping down their morning fix. A watery savoury soup, the noodles and beef add substance, a squeeze of lime for a little acidity, and a handful of torn-up deep-fried spongy croutons for texture. You grab a handful of leaves and bean-sprouts from the plate served with the meal, tear them up, sprinkle them in, then mix. Alongside this a whole raw egg, cracked into a smaller, saltier broth. To drink, a glass tumbler of weak iced-tea (served everywhere, with everything). Excellent, refreshing.</p>
<p>And then my first true experience of what is a staple of Vietnamese existence - cafe dá. A long coffee drink, served over crushed ice and if your teeth can take it, with a huge dollop of sweet, creamy, thick condensed milk stirred in.</p>
<p>The bitter Viet coffee needs extra sweetness to make it palatable. We whiled away an hour or so in the coffee shop; a dark shoebox of a room comprised of row upon row of plastic deck chairs, arranged in pairs to face out onto a busy scooter-laden thoroughfare.</p>
<p>Despite the rush of the traffic passing in front of us, the actual pace of life in Vietnam appears to be languid, and this was one happy oasis from the chaos outside.</p>
<p>But it wasn't long before we were sucked into the whirlwind motorcade as George and I jumped on the bike (a slightly worn, but beautiful black and chrome 1967 Honda with a deep tiger purr) and weaved our way through to the central Bentham Market where we were cajoled and pleaded with by plucky marketeers until it was time for another break.</p>
<p>At this new (slightly more upmarket) café we met Ian and Kevin, drank fresh coconuts and went for lunch in what was becoming oppressive humidity.</p>
<p>Jet-lag was now definitely kicking in, and it was clear I needed some downtime. We bartered with a handful of shop owners in light drizzle before whizzing home with with my new fold-out camp bed which lodged neatly between me and George on the bike and which completely obscured any view of the road ahead.</p>
<p>After a rest, and now dark, we sat under a bulb pocked canvas canopy surrounded by card players and beer swilling teenagers. Another cafe dá. We watched a man on the river bank unsuccessfully try to liberate his fishing rod from the tree he had just caught. A kitten played, well - cat and mouse - with a very large rat in the gutter in front of us. We were feeling hungry again.</p>
<p>The best dinner nearby, if you ask George, is the BBQ chicken place just down the way from his house, and so that's where we walked to.</p>
<p>Silver trestle tables stumble over the concrete pavement - wonky platforms for bowls of chicken parts and wobbly bottles of ice-soaked Saigon Red, the beer of choice around here. We were propped on a particularly wonky bit, and spent a good hour trying out the variety of delights on offer.</p>
<p>Duck tongue is a new one on me. A tough, shark-tooth of meat with what appears to be a wishbone inside, but which you can liberate by pinching the end between your teeth and stretching it away while holding the ends of the forked bone.</p>
<p>Chicken feet, better than I remember last time I had them, perhaps because these seemed to have a little more meat on them. Chicken hearts (you really should try them if you haven't - they are also a Brazilian delicacy) - fantastically muscly meat and very rich with flavour. And all of the above marinaded in a thick asian BBQ sauce.</p>
<p>The next day, George taught me just enough Vietnamese to order black iced coffees to go (which worked, but which the waitress found highly entertaining) and we jumped on the river hydrofoil to Vũng Tàu.</p>
<p>As the ferry approached the river delta and the South China Sea opens up in front of you, the influence of big money here is clear. Huge oil derricks and tankers are moored (or scuttled) off the coast, yet the town itself feels quite westernised, and caters for many of the Russian and European engineers who live here and work on the rigs.</p>
<p>Georges' parents have a house here, and we spent a one night here. Scooting up to the highest point on the island, then running back down in time for the first homemade western food in weeks (a fantastic lasagne) we headed out for drinks.</p>
<p>The first stop was a funny little bar, "The Black Pearl". We watched with some amusement as it took three waiters to pour each beer - one to open the can, one to pour, and one to hold the torch (well, it was quite dark). Did I mention all the staff are dressed as pirates? Well, it was very novel, but we didn't stay very long.</p>
<p>We left to meet with Hung, Alex and Alex's girlfriend (whose name I will not attempt to spell at risk of getting it very wrong). Alex is a repatriated American-Vietnamese, a result of the exodus of south-Vietnamese to the States, and also George's language teacher. Hung is a friend who studied in the same class.</p>
<p>Playing pool appeared to have become the social activity of choice for this group, and that is exactly how we went from sober to drunk that evening.</p>
<p>After a few beers, we were persuaded that we should stop for a late night street snack. "Sweet Soup" is a colourful milky drink packed with slithers of nut, jelly cubes, jackfruit, lychee and crushed ice that you sup from a handled beer glass. Once finished we headed back to Alex's and played an addictive and massively popular Vietnamese card game while wolfing down chunks of duck smothered in a sweet sauce into the very early hours.</p>
Fiji, Hong Kong, Vietnam 2012: Part 22012-11-12T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/fiji-hong-kong-vietnam-2012-part-2/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/fhkv-2.jpg" alt="The Islands" />
<h4>The Islands</h4>
<p>A large yellow catamaran know as the Yasawa Flyer snakes it's way between the various atolls and lagoons each day, making one full round trip that takes around 10 hours to complete.</p>
<p>As it goes it picks up and drops off travellers at the many Fijian resorts, but the sheer number of potential destinations means you never really leave the boat with more than a handful of other people - just enough to fill a single resort launch which all expectantly float just off their respective beaches, and draw up alongside the ferry at each stopping point like hungry pond fish waiting for a pensioner with a loaf to show up.</p>
<p>For my first stop I was alone. Two nights at the self-proclaimed 'party island', Beachcomber, which exists as a beautiful white beach that rings a rough clutch of lush green palms and a handful of of wooden bures (dorms) peeping through the foliage with deep black eyes.</p>
<p>The Rough Guide describes Beachcomber as having "lost some of the glitter from the disco ball" in recent years, and without wanting to be overly critical, it did feel more like Phoenix Nights than an experience at the Haçienda. The dorm is a massive affair, sleeping over 200 and actually very comfortable but there we no where near that number of occupants there when I arrived, and despite promises that it would get livelier at the weekend, that never actually came to pass.</p>
<p>With all the good weather, my pale British limbs were now on full show. In addition to board shorts and flip flops, I did keep my torso covered up in an attempt to ease myself into the searing 30ºC+heat, but after relaxing my own rules on the second afternoon I successfully managed to burn my back almost immediately, causing me to revert back to t-shirts post-haste. Dang.</p>
<p>The beauty of the place itself was unfaultable. Crystalline azure waters rush towards you from the horizon, and then seep into sheets of rippling cream under the glassy waters. The sand finally climbs from under the frothing sea as piping-hot slopes of fine ivory dust. Tall-masted sailing boats are occasionally set into this azure jelly - moored at arms length from the sprawling corals - and the only sound are from the regular rolling curls of breaking waves, or the occasional putt-putt of a small snorkelling launch. It's pretty incredible.</p>
<p>On Friday night I ended up getting drunk with some new friends; what started as a few beers soon descended into vodbulls and table-dancing. It was a very funny night.</p>
<p>Day two however was by comparison, dead, and I felt bad that Tini (who had just joined me from a night on an island that sounded incredible) was not going to have her first experiences matched here. We drank, played pool, went to bed.</p>
<p>The next day we left Beachcomber together, but our paths were diverging once more. I was off to Mantaray Island of which I knew very little.</p>
<p>I have to admit, at this point I was unsure whether these islands were going to be a success. My first encounter with the tropical island paradise, although beautiful, had disappointed me a little beyond the warmth of the sun and the swimming. The snorkelling had been relatively good, but not exceptional but this was clearly down to the endless poor policing of people standing on it, which I found was pretty dispiriting.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Mantaray Island is everything that Beachcomber is not.</p>
<p>In beautiful blue seas, the colourful launch pulled up onto the beach of this new island, and as is custom pretty much everywhere here, we were greeted by the staff band and customary yelp of Bula!</p>
<p>It quickly became apparent that I was also not going to be entirely alone on the island - it had completely escaped my memory that Michelle and Karen from the Viti Levu leg of my trip were already on this island and there was a full day's overlap in our stay.</p>
<p>This turned out to be a great asset, as we immediately went for lunch and I was introduced to a whole table of people with whom I quickly got to know, and this meant I now knew quite a lot of the present residents and the quirks of the place before my stay truly began.</p>
<p>Another major bonus was that within minutes of disembarking the boat, we were introduced to Joe, the dive shop owner who explained that should we want to learn to dive, that this was an excellent spot for it and that there was a considerable discount on the normal rate as an incentive to do so.</p>
<p>For those who know my ambitions, diving has been on my list of things to do for a very long while, however I have had somewhat bad luck attempting to get the opportunity to try it on at least two separate occasions.</p>
<p>This time I was determined however, and I am pleased that I grasped the opportunity with both hands. The only trade off was that the three days here at Mantaray would most likely be spent underwater and revising for the test at the end, but it was small price to pay for learning to dive at an utterly fantastic spot.</p>
<p>We got to dive six times in total. Where usually you need to first spend time in a pool, that stage is eschewed in favour of doing the early stage stuff directly in the sea, and if the thought of diving had scared any of the class beforehand, observing white-tipped sharks, eels and and plenty of other sea life on our first descent must have managed to knock the fear out of all of them. Unsurprisingly, I fell in love with it immediately.</p>
<p>During the few days I had on Mantaray, I got to watch the sunset from the summit of the island (the view was excellent...), and on day two I found myself playing the world's messiest drinking game. I cannot remember the last time I lost clothing permanently in a game of cards, but needless to say this was one funny evening.</p>
<p>Such is the life of a castaway that between the hours spent hooked up to a scuba tank, I was able to indulge in blissful beach life, and over my time on the islands managed to slide my way through three full books. After my failure to get through T.E. Lawrence's "Seven Pillars" last year, I set myself easier goals and instead polished off 37 Signal's 'Rework', Malcolm Gladwell's 'Tipping Point' and one more by the chap who did the one on coffee cup economics and whose name briefly escapes me.</p>
<p>Needless to say I found the whole experience on Mantaray wholly enjoyable, and so was somewhat sad to depart. I came to meet and know a whole host of good folk from both diving and otherwise - Ed, Claire, Katie, Helen, Claudia, Sal, Jay, Jenni, Darren, Hanna, Ruud, Jezte, Thomas etc etc. I also was extremely privileged to be treated to a special reading of extracts of "Fifty Shades" by the two Irish girls which was thoroughly entertaining.</p>
<p>Alas, the weather turned sour for the morning of our departure, and so the choir and guitarists performing the usual departure song stood huddled under the bar awning in pouring rain rather than stood out on the baking sands as they normally would prefer to do.</p>
<p>However, the rain was temporary and by the time the Yasawa Flyer had reached our destination the skies were once again azure, and the seas crystalline.</p>
<p>The island is known by visitors as The Blue Lagoon, taking it's name from the film of the same name which was shot nearby (and also to some degree probably because it is at the site of a blue lagoon…).</p>
<p>This was yet another idyllic slice of paradise. The huge curve of white sands bank around a glossy shallow pool of sand and beautiful corals. The seascape here provided the best snorkelling yet, but unfortunately also the best sunburn, and I ended up back in my t-shirt again.</p>
<p>Food at the Blue Lagoon had been bigged-up by pretty much every traveller we ran into before we arrived, and it didn't disappoint. Huge bowls of fish moray, freshly cooked shrimp, fish goujons, wahoo and garlicky mussels greeted us for our first night's dinner.</p>
<p>Tini had rejoined me for the final leg of my island stay, and we quickly made friends with Liz, Till, Kieron and Laura with whom we formed a team and unsuccessfully competed for the "Survivor" trophy organised by the resort. Throwing things through holes is a skill I have clearly neglected to nurture in recent years.</p>
<p>The final excursion we made was on the morning of departure, and we headed out by boat to the Sawa-i-Lau limestone caves on a neighbouring island.</p>
<p>The caves are flooded with seawater (when the tide is high) and freshwater (when low) and the first in the series is open to the skies, providing a cool pool of dark, clear water to wallow in.</p>
<p>The second cave takes a little bravery - a metre dive down, and two metre dive through an concealed underwater entrance and into the sulphuric air of a network of entirely sealed caves. This feels incredibly Indiana Jones, and even more so when you are shown the mysterious ancient wall markings, recorded in some long-lost language.</p>
<p>But this final excursion was the marker that my time in Fiji was drawing to a close. I'd thoroughly enjoyed island life, and none of the concerns about boredom had been realised (people before I went had indicated that might be a possibility). I was very content with the whole experience. Perhaps if I was to do it again I might have considered swapping my nights at Beachcomber with one other island, but all in all, that's not a real regret. I really recommend the Fijian experience.</p>
Fiji, Hong Kong, Vietnam 2012: Part 12012-11-11T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/fiji-hong-kong-vietnam-2012-part-1/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/fhkv-1.jpg" alt="Fiji" width="480" height="279" />
<p><em>(This is the first of four entries charting my recent time away. I broke it up to make them a bit more digestible…)</em></p>
<p>With October rolling around once more, I once again found myself caught up in the pursuit of exotic passport stamps, new flavours and bizarrely disorientating timezones.</p>
<p>This year I was determined to win back some of the sunshine that has so effectively continued to evade me in recent years and so this time bet on a dead cert. After mulling over the possibilities of South Africa, returning to South America et al, I eventually plumped for the sun-bleached coral shores of Fiji, followed by a short stint in Vietnam that would punctuate the return journey.</p>
<p>Both places are new dog-ears to my atlas, but as ever there was some more subtle logic to my choices beyond the chance of fine weather.</p>
<p>Fiji would be an opportunity to experience first hand some locations of historical importance to me, as well as a chance to wallow in warm seas.</p>
<p>As for Vietnam, seven months ago my friend George moved out to South East Asia, and so the second part of my journey was to provide a relaxing antidote to the machinations of island hopping; a time to catch up, remeniss, and see what Ho Chi Minh City has to offer.</p>
<p>And so I departed England in fair weather, early October, and made my way to Nadi on Fiji's largest island, Viti Levu.</p>
<h4>Viti Levu, Fiji</h4>
<p>The final few minutes of the flight gave us a clear view of the hazy mountains that fill out the centre of this large island. Stepping into the terminal, I was greeted with the first taste of the famous Fijian hospitality - a live band performing traditional welcome (Bula!) songs and the distribution cowrie shell garlands for all of us new arrivals.</p>
<p>As becomes quickly apparent to any traveller in Fiji, time spent in Nadi tends to be out of necessity rather than an undying passion. I spent my first night in the Nadi Bay Resort hotel but besides saying the food here was excellent, and that I had to reside here twice more during my time in Fiji, the place was not otherwise of huge significance.</p>
<p>I had once more elected to travel in the company of strangers, and the dawn of day two began with all the introductions. The trip was to be stewarded by Cam, our Fijian guide on Viti Levu, Asiri our driver, and the group itself comprised of just a handful of folk - Michelle, Tini, Esther, Julie and myself - a diverse spread of Europeans and antipodean types.</p>
<p>The first four days were spent on the road; hopping around the island, starting on the West, pausing each night in turn in the South, East and North before returning to Nadi on the final day.</p>
<p>Over the coming days, we were to try our hand at dune sand-boarding (great fun, quite exhausting), sunrise stalking (unsuccessful), mangrove-swamp boating (exhilarating) and kava drinking (more on this later).</p>
<p>Viti Levu is not a giant place, nor does it tend to garner the same flocks of sun-poached tourists that cluster on the Yasawas islands (a destination I reached later on the trip). It is home to lush vegetation, much sugar production, and as a consequence, gallons of a 60% proof sweet, dark rum called 'Bounty'.</p>
<p>One of the first activities we participated in while on Viti Levu was a trek along a thick, gluttonous mud trail. It led to the site of a waterfall in deep forest, where we all took it in turns to fling ourselves from a seven metre high outcrop of rocks above the swirling plunge-pool. I've previously been reticent to take part in throwing myself off things in the past, but there are times to conquer your demons, and this was one of them.</p>
<p>Accommodation in Fiji is pretty consistent - dormitories are the standard fare for most travellers and so each evening there was new bunk to negotiate as we slunk from resort to resort. All were very comfy, so I had no complaints and slept well. Even if you aren't a fan of that arrangement, waking up to a breakfast of fresh watermelon, pineapple, syrupy pancakes and hot tea is always an excellent compensation.</p>
<p>Talking of food, it was plentiful and fresh everywhere. Over the two weeks we became accustomed to 'wahoo', a meaty, almost chicken-like fish which is served in various ways, the abundant use of spinach, as well as a whole selection of other world foods served with their own Fijian twist.</p>
<p>Kokoda is one popular Fijian bowl served pretty much everywhere, but after seeing the many regretful expressions of fellow travellers mid-eat, I decided to stay away from this cold fish served in coconut and clung to the huge list of other far more appetising offers. An acquired taste, apparently.</p>
<p>However the most memorable culinary experience during my whole trip was on day three.</p>
<p>October 10th is Fiji Independence Day, and Cam was determined that we'd celebrate appropriately. Told to dress in blue clothing, we briefly called through Suva (Fiji's capital) that morning (catching the annual military tattoo), then donned a "sula" each (a traditional sarong) and headed for the hill village of Nasautoka.</p>
<p>Fijian custom dictates that when you intend to set foot upon land that is not your own that you must formally request permission, and as we were playing this by the book, it quickly became apparent that as the only male in the group that it would fall to me to act as 'chief' in this set piece.</p>
<p>Bound to accept my fate, not much later I found myself sat cross-legged at the front of a the village hall, side by side with the 86 year old Chief of this village, presiding over a ceremony mostly carried out in the native Fijian tongue and involving a whole panoply of subtle customs I no doubt infringed upon in the most revolting Western way. Thankfully, Chief was very forgiving of my amateurish ways, and we were very warmly welcomed in.</p>
<p>The room this all took place in was a big and airy single story building on stilts. The timber-slatted walls were blue-washed and glowed in dappled sunshine diffusing through the white cotton curtains.Bare floorboards were roughly swathed in large hemp and palm rugs that the assembled crowds sat upon, and in the middle sat a large, squat bowl primed for mixing the welcome 'kava' - a muddy, mildly anaesthetic drink created by crushing a locally-grown dried bush root into water stored in huge bamboo pipes.</p>
<p>Aside from our group, there must have been 30 or so people in the hut for the ceremony. The Chief of course, three traditionally dressed gents (sat behind the bowl opposite us and responsible for the practical bits of brewing kava), and then a large choir of women and children who sang for us. Like any raw vocal performance, there is something really stirring about the sound; one of those ones where you feel the bristling of the hair on the back of your neck.</p>
<p>There was however a slight issue for me to confront, and a direct consequence of having to sit cross-legged for so long.</p>
<p>Since the point where we had initially sat, introduced ourselves, donated gifts, participated in the ceremony (which involved clapping, drinking the muddy and sacred 'kava' water and shouting "Bula!" quite a lot), I had forgotten quite how bad the pins and needles in my legs had been in first 10 minutes I had sat on the floor. But they eventually had just faded out of my focus.</p>
<p>Invited by my counterpart chief to be the first to stand and shake the hands of each person in the room, I can only imagine the panic I managed to cause in the first person as they watched my tottering figure lurch towards them and then around the room on bandy legs as the blood surged back through my pegs for the first time in half an hour. I tried to disguise it, but I'm pretty sure most people thought that kava had gone to my head.</p>
<p>We were led shoeless down a mud track to the river that snakes it's way past the village, and invited by the local kids to engage in a spot of traditional bamboo river rafting.</p>
<p>The long, thin constructions are very simple, and comprise of six or seven thick bamboos, each three yards long and lashed together to create a flat floating platform just a foot and a half wide.</p>
<p>I was handed a further bamboo as means of propulsion, but it wasn't too long before my fellow (10 year old) rower decided to ditch the raft all together and went for a swim. At this point, I took his lead and within seconds pretty much everyone was left pratting about in the warm shallows until food was ready.</p>
<p>Back in the hut, spinach was order of the day. Cooked seven ways, we gorged ourselves on plates stacked high with food. It's the first time I've eaten a truly 'messy' meal (fingers only) since India, but there is something incredibly good fun about scooping up and moulding balls of soft, gluttonous pulps in your finger tips, peeling away the shells of fresh shrimp and chowing on fingertip-scoopfuls of boiled water ferns.</p>
<p>It was highly enjoyable, even if I couldn't manage it all. We finished up with a final bowl of kava and departed.</p>
<p>And that was that. The first stage of my Fijian adventure ended here, and after four days travelling together as a group we all went our separate ways - most of us heading away from Viti Levu and North through the the cluster of populated islands that spread through the South Pacific.</p>
The Future (A Speculation)2011-12-26T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/the-future-a-speculation/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/idt2003.jpg" alt="IDT 2003" />
<p>I am feverishly fascinated by the acceptance of technology and how humans choose to embrace it, and in recent months have found myself becoming more excited by dozens of discussions I have engaged in about the subject. I can’t help feel we have been approaching the foot of a mountain of that will fundamentally improve the way we think of how we use products and interfaces.</p>
<p>I think as an average consumer of a digital diet it is very difficult to ever bridge the gap between the short term understanding of what is achievable, and what remains as the world of The Jetsons.</p>
<h4>The Interaction Problem</h4>
<p>In Minority Report (2002), the protagonist John Anderton interacts with his devices using an array of super slick arm slinging gestures; probably one of the most widely recognisable and futuristic ideas in the film.</p>
<p>It was very easy to think how that would easily translate into a reality. In fact I was so inspired by the film, within a year the product had designed and prototyped for my A-Level Design & Technology project included my own attempts to bridge the human-digital divide.</p>
<p>This was my first real attempt to conceptualise a solution to these interaction inadequacies, and despite my youthful optimism eventually being dashed by <a href="http://www.linkedin.com/pub/dick-powell/20/499/745">Dick Powell</a> (who quite understandably understood the leaps needed to reach that point better than an 18 year old DT student) I still believed that somehow we still fundamentally were failing to address the gap.</p>
<p>But within a few years my dreams were starting to be realised and in 2006, new gesture based technologies were publicly demonstrated by Jeff Han in his infamous <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/jeff_han_demos_his_breakthrough_touchscreen.html">TED talk</a>. These concepts were not new. It was just a case of them being incorporated into products. And Jeff’s demonstration was by no means a full realising of the dream of Anderton’s world and digital immersion. A year later, much of what we’d seen in that demonstration suddenly was bought into focus by the first truly successful touchscreen product, the iPhone.</p>
<p>By this time I studying for my degree in Industrial Design and was aware of projects going on within my own university department that aimed to exploit physical interaction in the modelling of virtual products and environments by human gesticulation. It looked like momentum was building.</p>
<p>Touch screen kiosks been around for years, and were used on millions of Point of Sale (POS) units, but until this point designers and technologists had failed to deliver a pleasurable or easy experience (problems included lack of sensitivity and lack of accurate response). Once the fallacy that you had to use a stylus to interact with a screen was exposed, the sluices were opened and a torrent of consumer-acceptable touch based devices washed in. The technology had reached it’s teenage.</p>
<p>I think this taught me that until the point that somebody can demonstrate actively a simple, cost-effective, well resolved product, most people say it will <em>never</em> work.</p>
<p>And it’s the <em>never</em> short sightedness that always frustrates me.</p>
<p>The reality is that just because we as consumers cannot see how a new technology could ever be useful and not just a gimmick, we often tend to dismiss that technology as ever having any practical use. But thankfully there are plenty of intelligent, curious people out there who do spot the opportunities and deliver new configurations that turn the very crude carbon dust of ideas into glistening gemstones.</p>
<p>I can’t but help thinking that however big the jump appeared to be, the advent of the useful touchscreen is just the precursor to a far wider revolution, and in recent months, the first true signs of additional new and more important directions have been emerging and this is why.</p>
<p>Firstly, there always are fundamental misconceptions about the immediate future of technology interaction.</p>
<p>I base this on nothing other than anecdotal evidence, but I get the strong impression that most people haven’t got a clue that technologies like augmented reality (AR) are currently so utterly basic that they are practically useless or simple novelties and they will in the not too distant future have a much stronger impact when we broaden our minds.</p>
<p>At a demonstration I went to over a year ago, I was shown a range of ways that AR was being used today. One is the typical ‘reality overlay’ where we superimpose information on the world. This seems great in principle, until you actually try it. You end up with cluttered, jittery overlays that fail to actually filter any discernibly useful information, and in no way seamlessly integrate with any environment. You have to carry a device in front of your face and interact with the data via touch, which obscures your view further.</p>
<p>I think most people believe that AR will one day improve, and the way this will happen is that we will have contact lenses or retina-implants that overlay this information to us. Problem solved? I say no.</p>
<p>I recently came across a video talk where the speaker discussed how naive this long-held belief of what AR is (please can you tell me if you know who it was, and send a link!). To demonstrate, he gave the example of Terminator. In the movie, the Terminator sees various pieces of information presented in front of his eyes. He can read these pieces of information as he surveys his environment and his robotic mind uses this it to label his environment and condition.</p>
<p>But if you think about this, it’s absolutely crazily inefficient. Why on earth would a robot project information into one medium (effectively a transparent screen), only to have to read that back in and reinterpret it using visual sensors? That’s exactly like printing out every email to read it rather than ever using the computer’s display. That’s exactly what a QR code does - and that’s why they are currently a gimmicky half-resolved technology.</p>
<p>He then goes on to demonstrate how if you don’t restrict the AR to a purely visual process, a whole glut of improvements to the experience are available to you.</p>
<p>His is example is this. If you are using a GPS device while driving or walking, you fail to absorb your environment as quickly or as well as you might had you memorised a map-based route in your head, or followed road signs.</p>
<p>I know this myself because if I walk a route with GPS, often I can’t recall that route without double checking because I failed to survey the environment as well as I would have done if I’d navigated using more traditional methods. My visual senses prioritise the output of the GPS device.</p>
<p>The speaker proposes a device you hold in your hand down by your side, which physically leans in the direction you should be travelling rather than giving audible or visual instructions. In this way you can be fully alert to your surrounding and benefit from 100% availability of the senses that you would consider crucial to traditional navigation.</p>
<p>Now this is just an idea, and again demonstrates it’s own naivety. What happens if you need to carry something with both hands? What happens if you have a disability that affords you no feeling in your hands? What happens if your immediate route is incredibly complex?</p>
<p>But it does suddenly suggest we are incredibly blinkered. Revisiting our Minority Report example, many people still think this is way forward for interacting with computers. I think there is definite hints of usefulness, but I also think it will never be a primary method of interaction and we’ve simply stumbled upon an easily imaginable implementation.</p>
<p>It has been shown that this sort of interaction is incredibly tiring for humans and that anything more than short bursts become difficult for the user to sustain. The same applies to desktop based touchscreens. Clearly the success of the Kinect and Wii demonstrate that these full-body recognition technologies do have value, but I’m not convinced we’ll ever use them in isolation like Anderton does in the film.</p>
<h4>The Oven Clock Problem</h4>
<p>On Christmas day I watched stand up comedian Michael Macintyre lament the complexities of updating his oven clock. Who ever sets it, and for those that do, who ever tackles it first when daylight savings kick in?</p>
<p>This is a fundamental problem. Everyone owns an oven, and everyone has the same problem. For most of us the oven clock is hassle to update and despite the two-button setting mechanism which is used almost universally for setting clocks (chosen for it’s minimum number of mechanical parts) it remains a completely appalling system.</p>
<p>I’m going to suggest to you a far better approach to setting the clock, probably the closest-to-perfect solution, and then I’m going to shoot my suggestion down and give a much better solution.</p>
<p>I think a much better way for a human to set a digital oven clock is by voice. To have to option to control the whole oven by voice is also desirable, but here I shall just discuss this one function.</p>
<p>The reason setting it mechanically is odd is two fold. Firstly, this is a digital device, so why are we interacting with it mechanically at all? Surely this is at odds with the benefits of a digital clock - a device which removes all mechanics in order to demonstrate the full time in the single most easily read way, not limited by the laws of physics upon solid materials.</p>
<p>Secondly, it’s tricky. If you understand the process to setting the clock, it’s simple. You can apply the same logic to every clock you own. But it is nowhere near intuitive. Give a clock like this to a child with no experience of such a system and no instructions and you may as well give them a Rubic’s Cube to solve.</p>
<p>To approach your oven and say, “Oven, set the clock time to ten past eight” is almost infinitely more sensible, human and understandable.</p>
<p>In fact, this approach generally is far more sensible with a whole gamut of tasks we carry out daily.</p>
<p>I have found this out myself already with the use of Siri. Yes, a cliche I suppose, but I really think voice control is an interface that people can too easily dismiss as a gimmick, especially if you naively believe it should be the only interface to an object.</p>
<p>But I can’t tell you how useful it has become for me setting reminders, timers and how frustrating it is I can’t control other aspects of the device already.</p>
<h4>Convergence & Obsolescence</h4>
<p>The truth is, as Siri-like technology matures, it will become ever more invaluable, and we will see it and it’s kind spread into thousands more device types in the coming years.</p>
<p>Yes, it feels like a novelty right now, but that’s one absolute hallmark of a great technology waiting fulfil it’s potential. Think of the first time you saw a camera on a phone. The photos were so grainy and impossible to access, how possibly could that ever be useful? Who’s absolute first thought at seeing one of the devices was that with a few just years of development, we would be recording HD footage that rivals traditional compact cameras? I’m not sure too many consumers did.</p>
<p>And if you perhaps think we’re at the pinnacle with this particular example, you are probably once more underestimating the possibilities. I can’t see any reason why in a handful more years that the compact camera becomes entirely obsolete as the cellphone device converge with the camera device so much so that it puts some well known firms out of business.</p>
<p>If you think about it, why would you ever want to carry two or more devices? It’s bizarre. Many people will argue that it can’t work. You will never get the quality right in both devices enough for that idealistic convergence, but I argue differently. I think our desire to keep these two products apart is based on our traditional experiences. Of all the arguments Ithink for against convergence, I can easily dismiss each:</p>
<p><em>“If I lose my camera, I lose my phone and I couldn’t risk that”</em></p>
<p>The physical loss of a device is getting less and less important month by month. Already my own experiences have shown me that the separation of content from hardware means that you can almost instantly replace a device with no loss of data. I would argue the loss of a device will in future be even more distressing to a user, but not because of the loss of data, but entirely because of our greater product dependency. Content reacquisition will be much simpler and far less worrying.</p>
<p><em>“I won’t have all the functionality and quality of my compact”</em></p>
<p>I simply do not believe this. High quality lenses, adapters for lenses, cases, software - it all permits a single device to do all the things a traditional camera will do, plus incorporate all the luxuries a modern communications device like a smart phone does (GPS, meta data, graphics processing etc).</p>
<p>If you think of the arguments for using pretty much any non-digital medium is that the digital medium simply doesn’t reproduce the same way, then it is simply a matter of time before that void is admonished.</p>
<p>Anyone can argue that vinyl is better than digital music for a plethora of reasons, but actually the only current reason that stands is physicality. I guarantee every other aspect could be reproduced to perfection with digital techniques (if not now, in the near future). Even random idiosyncrasies (including limiting parameters that ensure an exact result) can be reproduced if enough care it taken. Maybe not right now, but I believe it can be achieved with such authenticity that a human cannot tell.</p>
<p>This is not an argument for doing away with these originals (which I love), but it is an argument against those who say digital cannot create an identical replacement.</p>
<p><em>“I like the separation”</em></p>
<p>When convergence is done properly, this is a non issue. Web browser plus cell phone? Until 2007 that was like someone had superglued Ceefax to a Nokia 3210. When you see the elegant solution, it will change your mind.</p>
<p>In fact, I’d present my opinion that Apple, the current king in converging technologies, will in the next few years kill off the iPod as a true standalone device completely. I also believe that they will also kill off DVD drives entirely within 12 months as web based distribution becomes universal, and that they launch a TV based system that will eventually provide convergence for every box you currently place under your TV set. Instead a range of multi-faceted devices will emerge.</p>
<p>And this convergence is why I believe they will never build a Apple branded standalone camera even though they incorporate that technology in most of their products. It is completely at odds with a converging approach.</p>
<p><em>“It’ll be too expensive to buy a unit that incorporates both”</em></p>
<p>It’s already possible to buy these phones quite readily, and traditional economics shows the standard model for costs means the price will drop as saturation occurs. The first DVD burner I saw in the UK cost £420 at PC World just a few years ago. Within twelve months the bottom had fallen out of the market. High end costing products cost that and will always exist because they contain the newest features and technologies. Over time they simply become absorbed into normality, just like electric windows in cars.</p>
<h4>The Oven Clock Revisited</h4>
<p>Coming back to my oven clock example though, I have yet to challenge my own suggestion of voice control to set the time. I still believe this a much better suggestion than our current mechanical system, but why is it not perfect?</p>
<p>Firstly, if you are mute, you cannot use this method. It is therefore no more universal.</p>
<p>Many consumers dismiss universality as an idealistic madness, but a perfect product should be universal. People think this means sacrifices and trade-offs, but it doesn’t. The web has shown you can build incredibly usable products when care is applied without sacrificing quality or endangering the 95th percentile’s experience.</p>
<p>To take the iPhone as the example once more, the most heavy duty of the accessibility controls are entirely hidden from the average user and yet could be considered exceptional in the field.</p>
<p>Why I believe touch screen technology it is still in it’s infancy is because haptic (touch) feedback is still so poor, even non-existent. The key reason for this is the physical limitation of materials being able to deliver localised physical responses, and this is why aural control is far more accessible and likely to be available more widely in the immediate future.</p>
<p>However to think such responses are impossible is again blinkered. The development of smart materials will I believe soon show us that creating surfaces with entirely amorphous, controllable physicality will occur in the coming years and this will again revolutionise and enhance the interface. It might take five years, it might take seventy, but it will occur.</p>
<p>So what do I propose as the ultimate solution for the oven clock? Well it’s simple really and you may have already worked it out. Voice control is likely overkill in the first instance; instead really, the clock should automatically be set. Using the Anthorn transmitter and some basic technology this would be so ridiculously simple to implement, and it’s bizarre that it isn’t done as standard when you really think about it.</p>
<p>For generations oven makers have been churning out ovens with clocks added as afterthoughts, but which fundamental parts of the product which when you think about it is a careless attitude. Why should a consumer be forced to learn how to set up this part of the machine, repeatedly? Surely in these cases, it would almost be better just leave the clock off, and save the parts cost. Or supply a cheap standalone mechanical clock if they really feel it too much effort to address it with the same care as the rest of the functional experience of the product as a whole.</p>
<h4>What It May Mean For Web Professionals</h4>
<p>What I’m saying is that I think we currently apply too many interfaces with big limitations and as technology is now maturing, we’re about to see a huge shift in the possibilities and the blurring of the line between the physical and digital environment.</p>
<p>As a professional web designer, I think the reason for my fascination in the immediate future of the interface is that I believe that as an industry we soon will need a far greater understanding of the physicality of what we build in our designs as it’s going to become important.</p>
<p>We already are going through a revolution in understanding the impact of a touch or gesture based control of our websites and applications, as well as their place on an ever fragmented range of screen sizes and resolutions.</p>
<p>This is just the start, and I believe that within a decade or so it is very likely that the fundamental level the web will integrate with all sorts of senses through all sorts of interfaces is going to generate yet a further explosion in the fragmentation of our discipline.</p>
<p>It’s a wide, umbrella like statement, and perhaps a little idealistic, but I really cannot see any other way the world will progress.</p>
<p>But despite all this, it’s all just speculation really, and as a consumer I am really just as blind as everyone else as to what the future really holds. It does excite me though.</p>
First Experiences of the South American Continent: Part 52011-10-27T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/first-experiences-of-the-south-american-continent-part-5/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/rio.jpg" style="border: 0;" alt="image" width="480" height="279" />
<h3>Rio de Janeiro</h3>
<p>We parted after breakfast and took a damp ferry back to the mainland. Rio was an hour and half away, and by this stage most of us were trying to calculate if we were likely to see any good weather before our flights home.</p>
<p>Most people hedged their bets on doing the sightseeing stuff as far in the future as they could, but for me, Yvonne and Katie, we knew our options were limited as our departure was much sooner than many of the others.</p>
<p>Rio was overcast and sadly as wet as we had expected, so Yvonne took the last opportunity to take a city tour, while the rest of us ate a buffet lunch and rested until the evening.</p>
<p>Whereas last night had been our last meal all together, this supper marked the end of the tour. Juan outdid himself taking us to a traditional Brazilian eatery; one where your plates are filled with cut after cut of beef, shaved in great quantities from skewered joints that swarms of waiters deliver as they whisk around the tables.</p>
<p>The only way to stop your plate from overflowing is to flip over the small coloured disc you are given at the beginning of the meal (it would be impossible to clear your plate at the rate the meat arrives). Red means stop, green means go. It’s straightforward and you have to get pretty good at it pretty quickly. Iguana, chicken’s hearts... I was too full for any of the exotic stuff by the time we’d eaten sixteen other types of beef, including the one stuffed with cheese. They might as well just hand you a form to sign to agree to a heart attack.</p>
<p>The next day marked mine and Katie’s last day on the continent, and we were just relieved it wasn’t raining as we took our final opportunity to see Rio before flying home.</p>
<p>In the morning a number of the remaining party joined us on a tour of the largest favela in the city. I can’t say I had previously understood what this entailed, or what the safety implications of such a venture is, but our tour leader (Marcos) ranks amongst one of the best guides I’ve ever encountered (for any tour), and we all thoroughly enjoyed the experience.</p>
<p>From the base of the favela right up to the horizon (or mountain top) are densely stacked clusters of mostly orange-red house-boxes which squeeze in and amongst grey vertical columns that kind-of glue them together; each single unit a jumble of brick and concrete parts, that ascends and ascends, and eventually is cherry-topped with a big blue water pot, piled perilously atop the highest surface wide enough to hold it.</p>
<p>In the spaces between boxes, squiggly black cables stretch out each way like thick matted hair, and trail above the thin wobbly streets that snake in and out, under and above each other; as though Escher and Pollock had equal hand in the town planning. Where the cables stop, greenery pokes through wherever it can get enough room to find light.</p>
<p>Little cheery faces appear at various heights from windows, doorways and shops along the street yelling comments, questions and greetings - their perceived physical height bearing no relation to how tall or old they are, but entirely dependent on where the floor they stand on happens to be below them.</p>
<p>An elderly gentleman waves at us. He has an automatic weapon lying across his lap.</p>
<p>Being Street Number 1, you would be surprised perhaps to know that at it’s widest, the space between the buildings is perhaps just a meter and a half wide, and at it’s narrowest, just small enough for a dog followed by a child to scurry between your legs. And as the road winds down and down between the shattered terracotta brickwork, little stinking rivulets that flow across it from time to time, which connect little piles of trash left out to be picked apart by the curious chickens and kittens that jump about.</p>
<p>From Marcos’ advice about spotting the drug lords (“they wear pink uniforms, with little yellow flags and have ‘drug dealer’ printed across their backs”) to the furious pillioned motorcycle race up through the shanty town streets; from the kindness and enthusiasm of the local residents and business owners to the poignant physical reminders of the daily violence, drug running and gun crime pock-marked into the walls of many of the buildings - this was an exceptionally enjoyable and eye opening journey.</p>
<p>A good idea is to understand perspective of the Brazilians working on voluntary projects with the children and ordinary residents here. They believe that favela is a cultural existence as much as anything else - a common way of life for millions of Brazil’s residents.</p>
<p>It might be squalid (or at least have it’s roots in squalor), but it is also the normal everyday life for millions of people across the country. They point out that it might be called favela in Brazil, but it’s called ‘The Projects’ in the US. That’s not flippant - the same problems of drug and gun crime, lawlessness and fear or hatred of the police are endemic in both.</p>
<p>The priority and focus is to improve the lot and condition of the locals, but emphasise that the solution is not clearance of these vast illegal estates because the cultural melting pot here is so important and unique, that it actually defines some of the key physical fabrics of Brazil.</p>
<p>Yes, crime is the dark shadow that lurks, but for the majority of people here it is just one unfortunate facet of an existence we struggle to understand in the West, and when relative to the entire world’s vast population, is actually far closer to a “normal existence” than our own lives.</p>
<p>The favela had a big impact on me, and if you go to Rio, I urge you to visit one to try and understand why tourists are actually encouraged (and with surprising levels of safety) to come and help admonish any preconceptions about it being “zoo-like”. I found it enlightening.</p>
<p>It was now past midday, and time to say goodbye to many of our fellow travellers before embarking on the final leg of our city exploration.</p>
<p>Low cloud doesn’t make for the best viewing at the city’s famed high spots; namely Christ the Redeemer (sheet white views) or Sugar Loaf mountain (we didn’t even bother trying), but everything else was more than accessible and we still got some excellent views of the city from St Theresa.</p>
<p>The tiled steps of Selarón and the brutalist cathedral were our final stops. With just a matter of hours left before departure, we made the decision to at least get to the beach and walk it, albeit briefly and in torrential rain.</p>
<p>Luckily our hotel was in Copacabana (just one street behind the sea front), and although we decided not to venture as far as Ipanema, we finally got to see the famous view along the sandy shore of the Rio coastline.</p>
<p>I’m not going to say it was impressive in the wet cloud. It was damp and grey and long and sandy, but not impressive.</p>
<p>What I will say is that I fully intend on returning to both Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Aires again to see them for longer and in warmer weather; to really explore them both more thoroughly and to build upon the small tastes I received on this brief trip. Even though our time in both places was limited, I couldn’t help but really like these towns.</p>
<p>Next time, I also intend to ensure I get to enjoy the beaches a little more away from grey clouds and drab rains. Again, my passport is a little more full this year, and I’m already looking forward to coming back one day.</p>
First Experiences of the South American Continent: Part 42011-10-26T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/first-experiences-of-the-south-american-continent-part-4/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/ilha-grande.jpg" style="border: 0;" alt="image" width="480" height="279" />
<h3>Ilha Grande</h3>
<p>An 8.30am start, and another bus. This time to a port where we would catch an early afternoon ferry to Ilha Grande (or Big Island for the non-versed).</p>
<p>A sunny boat journey made for a pleasant trip (for all bar Scott, who isn’t so keen on watery expeditions) and the girls spread themselves over the bows to try and absorb up some precious vitamin D.</p>
<p>The pier stretches out from the main beach, and small shops line the sea front. With no cars (it’s a natural reserve) all transport is on foot or by boat.</p>
<p>We settled into our log cabins (complete with hammocks that were comfy but almost certainly constituted a fire hazard) and those who wanted to went off to do a preliminary trek into the island’s rainforest.</p>
<p>Monkeys, snakes, big ants etc - we trod the pink and red sandstone in and amongst the lush vegetation for a couple of hours before eventually emerging onto a beach where most of the sand ran mustard yellow, and just occasionally striped with thick, glistening cobalt-black bands.</p>
<p>When we arrived back at the hotel, the German girls were tucking into one of the peculiar highlights of this establishment. Each afternoon, a large soft home-baked cake, along with a box of teas and canteens of coffee and boiling water were brought out onto the veranda for everyone to dig in to. I spent some time in the hammock.</p>
<p>That evening we experienced the most bizarre of all food services to date. The waitress and waiter took orders for separate dishes, but stopped half way through the order and disappeared, later reappearing behind the bar with no explanation. Juan took matters into his own hands to prevent a disaster; and well over an hour later, the last of the meals arrived just as everyone else finished up.</p>
<p>In the intervening time, we traded riddles, including one about three rabbits, a river and a lion. We’re all pretty sure that one doesn’t even work.</p>
<p>The next day was meant to be the first of two days of relaxation and our own time. Once again, dogged by limited sunshine, we opted to hike across through the rainforest and land ourselves on the best beach which was on the other side of the island.</p>
<p>The going was fairly straightforward, but it was muggy in amongst the occasional burst of warm sunshine. We came across more monkeys, snakes, big ants etc. before finally escaping out onto the first of three beaches on our route.</p>
<p>When we reached the final beach the first thing I did was devour an ice-cold Coke from one of the hesky-vendors. It came complete with little icy crystal chips glittering all over the misty aluminium lid, and popped open with a crisp clank and smokey whisp. Perfect.</p>
<p>The beach was maybe fifty yards deep, but lined by palms and swept roundly uninterrupted for around two kilometres.</p>
<p>Us boys headed straight for the water and spent sometime wrestling waves and diving around like proper children. The girls hadn’t been so enthused by the saltwater, and spent their time sunning themselves.</p>
<p>That was until the rain began, and a group vote ruled to abandon play, so it saw us slip-slapping back over the melting red rock of the rainforest until we were back at the previous beach and able to jump on the first available boat back around to our side of the island.</p>
<p>More cake, more tea.</p>
<p>The evening was another barbecue, to be shared with yet another Gap group who were heading in the other direction to us. We sat on the balcony sipping at our contraband vodka, and I did some reading for the first time this trip (Seven Pillars of Wisdom, T.E. Lawrence). Eventually we got into conversation with one or two of the other group, and then the cards came out, it soon bled into food time; we moved up to the covered area as the rain began to pour down.</p>
<p>It was snug under the covered area, with thirty hungry faces clamouring for hot dogs and steak.</p>
<p>The night went on.</p>
<p>When I awoke the next day, Scott wasn’t in the room. I’ll point out this wasn’t unusual being that he’s almost entirely a night time operator, so I wasn’t entirely surprised, but this was the first time he’d not arrived back before I’d actually got up. It wasn’t until I returned much later in the day that I found he’d spent the whole night on the beach drinking tequila, making friends with stray dogs, sleeping on canoes and ‘frolicking’ - of which the latter there is disturbing video evidence.</p>
<p>In the meanwhile me, and pretty much everyone else, had gone to take some time on a boat. The tour of the the islands best lagoons and beaches by sea really appealed and, it was really nice to finally dive into the azure waters and explore.</p>
<p>Anyone who knows me well knows that I can’t resist being out on the waves; and I don’t care how rough it gets. There is no greater pleasure than being on a boat, making slow progress, listening to Fat Freddy’s Drop or some other dub mix and soaking up the rays. Ok, so it could have been sunnier, but I was pretty much 95% of the way there.</p>
<p>So this was our last day in Ilha Grande, and also the final day with the German girls who were staying behind in hope of a few days of clear skies. The farewell dinner was punctuated with horrendously-coloured cocktails; partially a result of a game Caroline invented which bore two simple rules: 1. pick a cocktail 2. drink it. We eventually ended up at the local club, and the less said about it the better.</p>
First Experiences of the South American Continent: Part 32011-10-25T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/first-experiences-of-the-south-american-continent-part-3/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/iguassu.jpg" style="border: 0;" alt="image" width="480" height="279" />
<h3>Iguassu Falls & Paraguay</h3>
<p>Iguassu was hot with a capital H O T. If only this deceptively clear weather had stuck with us on the following days, I might eventually have tempted a tan. Sadly that wasn’t to be the case.</p>
<p>But for the time-being it was gloriously sunny, and a handful of us decided to partake in a little illegal trip over the border to neighbouring Paraguay. This was never going to be a particularly cultural affair; hundreds of thousands flock over the border to the markets daily from Brazil to take advantage of the lax tax laws and ambivalent customs and excise arrangements.</p>
<p>Due to the brevity of the trip, I cannot comment much on Paraguay much other than saying that if the whole country is like what we saw in our brief two hour trip, tasers and musical condoms are probably the staple national exports. Also, no where else have I seen a place where on a single stall you can purchase both women’s lingerie and a selection of domestic power tools.</p>
<p>Notably, the mall guards carry pump-action shotguns, and the price of premium spirits is astonishingly low, so we made the most of this latter perk and acquired a quantity that would fill a small paddling pool.</p>
<p>That evening, those who were not feeling horrendously ill partook in a grill session out by the hotel pool. Scott and Katie had been missing for number of hours, so I went to discover them, and found them languishing in my room.</p>
<p>Scott explained to me that they had so far taken it in turns to challenge each other to get, letter-by-letter, down the bottle to below the ‘E’ in Cuervo. This wasn’t a small bottle of tequila, and between the two of them had managed to get through three quarters of it in one sitting, with no mixer. It went some way to explain why Scott was talking to the salt pot.</p>
<p>It was decided the best remedial course of action was to go to a bar, so we headed to a place called Zeppelin. The strict age policy here is relatively straightforward. It involves the doorman asking for ID, then when you complain you haven’t brought any with you, you simply write your birthday down on a post it note and they let you in.</p>
<p>We stayed here for a bit, drank down a few caprinihas, actively avoided the other Gap tour who had turned down our offer of a party, and then squeezed way too many of us into a cab for the trip home.</p>
<p>We awoke the next morning to the disappointing sound of torrential rain. It had cleared the mugginess of the day before, but this was not ideal Iguassu Falls-viewing weather. I felt quite annoyed, but tried to remain optimistic.</p>
<p>Thankfully it doesn’t matter what the weather conditions are like at Iguassu. It really doesn’t.</p>
<p>With half the group dressed like a bunch of musical condoms (or like a visiting party of forensic scientists) our wet poncho-clad bodies were filled with hot coffee then laden into a 4x4 for a journey through the rainforest (living up to it’s name) and then onto a speed boat for the six kilometre race up to the base of The Falls.</p>
<p>It was spectacular, and all the more enjoyable for the drenching we received as they dipped the nose of the boat under a couple of the less torrential flows.</p>
<p>Afterwards, we walked the trail back up to grab lunch and catch the sit-on train to the top of the falls. From the station to the falls is a twenty minute boardwalk, and thankfully the rain was subsiding as we approached the most spectacular part.</p>
<p>Words cannot entirely describe the sight. I’ve seen Niagara twice and been thoroughly impressed each time with the Horseshoe, but I don’t remember as being quite so mesmerised by the sheer scale of the place, and how the seething foams unrelentingly burst out in ochre-tinted, battleship-grey and bright-white froths all around you. It really messes with your eyes, but is a stunning sight to behold.</p>
<p>Thousands of small birds dart around the thick misty clouds that bloom up from the pit the water falls into, and this means there is no chance of seeing anything much down below.</p>
<p>We stopped, did the obligatory tourist photo thing and then headed back. I was impressed. Very impressed.</p>
<p>That evening we let what we’d seen settle in. Juan took us to a favourite restaurant of his, where we were dished up guinea pig-sized steaks with minimal vegetable accompaniments. Mine came with two globs of dijon mustard; but there were a whole range of mouth watering accompaniments to choose from.</p>
<p>It was sensational stuff and I was very full.</p>
<p>The next day we departed. Locking our bags in a room for the morning, transport had been arranged to slip over to the Brazilian side once more to see it from the other side. The weather had marginally improved since yesterday and this made it good for a helicopter trip.</p>
<p>This was my fourth or fifth time doing such a thing, and once more I relished the initial sensation of rising above the treetops and taking in a fifteen minute exploration over the falls. The pilot threw in a few sneaky moves which went down well with me, but upon our return a very unwell looking Scott indicated he hadn’t been such a fan.</p>
<p>By this stage Sarah and Kristie were by now falling over themselves to get up close and see the spectacle, as neither had done the helicopter trip, and had both been afflicted by the messy illness the previous day, so they still hadn’t seen any of it.</p>
<p>Luckily they now got their chance. The Brazilian side is a much smaller affair, and consists of a long walkway that traces the edge of river then brings you up and over the two tiers of the falls, allowing you to walk out and amongst on the first level.</p>
<p>Equally impressive, if not more so than the previous day, the views were spectacular.</p>
<p>We retired to the bus and began the next night journey to Sao Paulo.</p>
<p>I had expected to spend some time in this city, but apparently our timetable didn’t permit it, so we only briefly skirted through. The night had been eventful. Firstly Juan had spotted someone loading contraband into the hold, so we were all praying that we wouldn’t get stopped at one of the police checkpoints.</p>
<p>In addition, a bunch of noisy Brazilian males seemed to be unnerving some of the girls, and in fear of being ‘snatched away‘, they all did their seatbelts up, much to our amusement. Luckily, and perhaps not surprisingly, no one was stolen in the end.</p>
<p>Heavy thunder and forked lightening provided a spectacular lightshow for the first part of the journey, and at the service station, the ritual of watching the girls going back to the toilet to root around in the cubicle bins to find the little yellow paper slips they had been handed when they entered the building was quite amusing. It turns out they wouldn’t let you back out without it (although this wasn’t explained at the time), so it was a case of rolling up sleeves and going back in.</p>
<p>At around five in the morning, I was awoken by a loud bang. I assumed my water had fallen down from the overhead storage, but it wasn’t until I got a tap on the shoulder and it was pointed out to me that the window behind had shattered spectacularly.</p>
<p>Being safety glass, it had crystallised, but with no spare seats on the bus, and the driver refusing to stop, we just played musical chairs until about forty minutes later the whole thing collapsed in on itself and over the people behind me.</p>
<p>Eventually the driver thought it worth having a look. He rocked up in his tired red jacket, rolling his moustache between the fingers of his left hand and with his right hand stuffed deeply into his pocket. He made a quick thoughtful assessment, laughed a little, proffered something in Portuguese, then went back into the cab and continued the journey regardless.</p>
<p>Thankfully the rain had stopped by now, so the next two hours weren’t so bad, if not a little windy. We hung around at Sao Paulo a little while until our transfer arrived and took us on the long and winding road through the hills to our next destination, Paraty.</p>
<h3>Paraty</h3>
<p>This was the second quaint colonial town we’d stopped at, this time a Portuguese settlement (this being Brazil; opposed to being Spanish like everywhere else in South America).</p>
<p>Boulder-sized cobbles here make road-travel through the streets like dustbin-lidding on a cattle grid, but the place was very pleasant and the surrounding hills bathed in a rich evening warmth.</p>
<p>Naturally, the weather wasn’t to last beyond the first day, but that balmy evening we walked into town for food at a quirky bar called Paraty 33, where we feasted on pasta and seafood. I got dragged up to dance a little here, and decided I’d have just one more drink. Inevitably the little street bar we chose was selling 5R$ caprinihas, so I later revised my night plans into a more long-term arrangement.</p>
<p>There was drinking and dancing, cocktail mixing, quite a few smashed glasses (I was covered in lime and sugar) and a good night had by all.</p>
<p>Also, never before have I watched a man with a plaster cast leg, backwards donkey kick his friend, then follow up the attack wielding a crutch like a sword. Spectacular and probably never to be seen again.</p>
<p>The next day was for us to do as we wished, and so a handful of us chose to jump on a local bus and make our way to something called the waterslide waterfall a few miles away.</p>
<p>Bearing in mind our previous experiences at South American water-based attractions, you might have assumed this could have been a little disappointing. In the event, it was nothing like what I expected at all. Rather than a carved channel in the stone, it was one huge flat slab of rock, polished by a sheet of constant running water, and made dangerously slippy by a liberal coating of green algae.</p>
<p>It was great fun to watch Caroline, Stephen, Matthew, Soren and Kasper glide down with such ease, but my arse is not the polished marble puck that the others seem to possess, and I constantly found myself blue-tak like, clinging to the rock like a limpit made of pure friction.</p>
<p>Anyway, despite these issues, I was eventually able to overcome my disabilities and build up enough momentum on the slide. For a while we all gracefully and repeatedly plunged into the murky pool at the end of the great granite sheet. Very good fun.</p>
<p>The spacious local bus which had bought us up to the waterfall had somewhere along the line been chop-shopped into a small rickety minibus in time for our return. At least we assumed it was our bus - there wasn’t a sign, but the bloke driving seemed quite happy to accept our money and cram us on top of other people on board, so we assumed it was right.</p>
<p>By the time we got to town all forty of the people on the minibus were quite relieved to get off (I may have exaggerated the number to stress a point) and go find some lunch.</p>
<p>After a sustained fight with a Portuguese hole in the wall, I located the others who were still waiting for their food to show up after about a hours waiting. I did ask whether they had actually placed their order. When they confirmed they had, I checked to see if they had done so in this particular restaurant, or somewhere else.</p>
<p>They were soon saved from my flippancy when the meals turned up. A couple of steaks, some pasta, chips, and like with everything edible in South America, four big bowls of rice.</p>
<p>After lunch we all went our different ways. Scott and I trekked around the harbour, beaches then up to the old fort and wasted the afternoon there.</p>
<p>That evening we arranged to go for pizza at a local hostel (a cute place far more appealing than that actually sounds). Perched up on the first floor with an open view out, it reminded me a little of the restaurants in Thamel, Nepal - and for the first time on the trip I found myself engaged in a thoroughly serious and cultural discussion, this one with Stefanie about British art history.</p>
<p>I decided to call it a night, and along with Katie and Sarah, arranged to take a lift back to the hotel with a friend of the barman.</p>
<p>It turns out the unexpected part of the arrangement was we hadn’t bargained for was the transport being a refrigerated van. Kristie made good of the shotgun rule, so the remaining three of us bolted into the ‘containment area’.</p>
<p>I think you will be most surprised to learn that just because a refrigerated van can be refrigerated, it doesn’t mean that it actually is.</p>
<p>After about five minutes things were getting pretty warm, and after ten, ‘sweaty’. So it’s probably just as well that the driver pulled over. We thought we had arrived, but a muffled shout from the front cab by Kristie indicated he was just running an errand. No problem Mr. Driver - after all we weren’t paying for this lift. Open-popped the back door, and in-thrown was a bag of ice. I positioned it on top of the wheelbarrow we were squatting around, and on we went again.</p>
<p>Just in case we were concerned about our own safety, or what the authorities might think if they caught a fifty year old man with three non portuguese-speaking adults locked in the back of his van with a bag of ice and gardening equipment, he drove really slowly, but needless to say the cobbled bit was the most uncomfortable leg. Having finally parked up right next to two full police cars, the look on the officers’ faces as we emerged was bemusement, but in the end they didn’t seem too fussed. Probably happens all the time.</p>
First Experiences of the South American Continent: Part 22011-10-24T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/first-experiences-of-the-south-american-continent-part-2/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/colonia.jpg" style="border: 0;" alt="image" width="480" height="279" />
<h3>Colonia</h3>
<p>Our first destination in Uruguay was the pretty and historical port of Colonia. Once a smuggler’s haven, it’s quaint cobbled streets are now more suited to tourists bombing it around in half-broken beach buggies and golf carts, or at least that’s how things panned out when we turned up. The market was somewhat disappointing (if it was big enough to write Uruguay on it, it’s sold in that market), and so we found a bar and made that our base for a little while during the afternoon. The town and hotel itself was very nice.</p>
<p>That evening food was at a local restaurant, and it became quite a merry affair. Lubricated with alcohol, fussball, throwing games, dares and late night salsa dancing - it went down well. It also was the day that the wheels of the rumour mill began to turn.</p>
<h3>Montevideo</h3>
<p>The next and slightly hungover destination was Montevideo, the luxuriant capital of the famously cosmopolitan Uruguay.</p>
<p>It might be sensible to highlight that this last statement maybe include both flippancy and sarcasm. Although personally I enjoyed this bit of the trip, I would concede I found the grey buildings and drab beaches a little disappointing compared to some of the other locations we were lucky enough to visit. For some it was too much, and not ever since has Jade been able to reconcile her loathing of the place. But for all the negativity of the location, the highlights together as a group were excellent.</p>
<p>Stephen had become somewhat obsessed with balancing the zen of the hotel lobby, and the group took great pleasure rearranging the two stick-mounted fish ornaments in whatever way would cause the most discomfort for him at any given opportunity.</p>
<p>Lunch on the first day was traditional Uruguayan fayre - McDonalds - which might go someway to indicating the lack of interestingness in this aspect of their culture. The evening was spent at the cinema watching Bridesmaids. It’s the sort of town Montevideo is.</p>
<p>To be perfectly fair, by the next day when we rode on bikes around the city, the lunch offering had far improved - a Chivito - a traditional sandwich which is made by stuffing anything that is both edible and sandwich-sized between the hulking loaves. The bike tour was extensive; so much so that Matthew broke his saddle. Other than this, the highlight of the day by far was a visit to the grey monolithic bowl of the original football World Cup stadium.</p>
<p>Quite unbelievably, in the 1930s Uruguay had fielded the best football players in the world, and in two consecutive Olympics had sailed to magnificent gold medals (as the eight-minute video explained). As a consequence, they were the ideal choice as hosts, and Montevideo’s new stadium was the envy of the world. They even went on to crown their previous glories by being the first to win this new World Cup.</p>
<p>Now it’s a slightly faded relic, and feels much like all of the rest of the city; a reflection of a perhaps once interesting and vibrant time. It has has had seven or so decades to let the past glories fade away; and apparently has quite successfully achieved that feat.</p>
<p>The final evening here was in a cosy restaurant down by the old markets. We’d had a few primer drinks in Juan’s accommodation, and by the time food had arrived, Stephen had already committed to doing 100 shots in a 100 minutes. Now, Centurions were nothing new to most of the party, but even the most hardened drinkers don’t usually take on this task lightly, at dinner, or alone.</p>
<p>My meal was delicious; two slab-like pork steaks, swimming in a rich plum sauce and shoved up against a huge foil-wrapped portion of sweet potato mash. One of the first of the really great meals I was lucky enough to enjoy on the trip.</p>
<p>However, things weren’t looking so hot for Stephen by now. Unassumingly pole-axed by the task, he actually seemed quite happy and blissfully unaware of his own state. After declaring his love for most of us, making some fairly profound observations, then walking into a telephone box, it was decided he should return to the hotel.</p>
<p>Those who remained took to a local bar. There were cocktails, long measures, some shots and ultimately Scott, Katie and myself remained. The end of the night came when we were escorted from the premises; something to do with Scott rolling around on the floor in pain. Good times.</p>
<p>Adios Montevideo.</p>
<h3>Salto</h3>
<p>The following morning a new bus transferred us to our next destination, Salto.</p>
<p>Improved weather made the place pleasantly enjoyable. At evening time we were stuffed into a local restaurant “El Rancho” (I believe it means “The Ranch”) to fill ourselves with mountain-loads of grilled meat. This became a reoccurring theme as our travels progressed, and South America can be very enjoyable if you are a fan of eating animals.</p>
<p>The evening concluded with the world’s longest sustained game of ‘I Have Never’. As most of us had not played this since we were teenagers, it was a bit of a thrill, and incredibly revealing. I won’t ever manage to forget Jade, Scott’s and Sarah’s contributions. Never. Never ever.</p>
<p>The ‘waterpark or spa’ choice the next day was clearcut for most of us. The girls wanting pampering and paid to receive their (apparently) pervy massages, while us lads made the most of the four or so water slides and the “lazy river” at Salto’s best (only) aquatic attraction.</p>
<p>Incoming lightening storms closed some of the high-rides for a while, and the crazy golf had been shut down for still undisclosed reasons, but despite the limited options, good times were still possible. The red and black slide was definitely the best. The frog that joined us in the pool for a while might not have agreed.</p>
<p>We’d been warned that strikes on the Uruguayan/Argentinean border are not infrequent, and there was a good chance that if one occurred, we might be stranded for a few days until the dispute was resolved. Frustratingly news of such a strike had come that morning. We didn’t know until the end of the day that luck was on our side, and a long crisis had been averted. We were only delayed by an hour in the end.</p>
<p>On the way to the bus station, Jade had wrestled a CD from the taxi driver as a memento of the trip. She genuinely had enjoyed the music, so it was amusing when Juan later explained that the tunes in question were hot-favourites of the Uruguayan mafia, and pretty much unacceptably-awful to the ears of the rest of the population.</p>
<p>Now began our fast flip-flop like exploration of the border lands as we neared Iguassu Falls. Splitting Argentina from Brazil, there is no direct access from Uruguay, so the night bus would take us north on the Argentinian side. It would be a long slog, and although in comfortable conditions, it also proved to be the downfall of a number of members of our party.</p>
<p>The absolute cause is unknown, but over the coming days several people fell ill and it seemed the rather unsanitary onboard toilet facilities might have been a factor.</p>
<p>As we crossed into Brazil, we now moved into our third currency of the journey, and my pockets were awash with a mixture of peso shrapnel that no one would take or exchange. I still hadn’t managed to figure out the conversion rates, so it was all inconsequential to me anyway.</p>
First Experiences of the South American Continent: Part 12011-10-23T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/first-experiences-of-the-south-american-continent-part-1/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/la-boca.jpg" style="border: 0;" alt="image" width="480" height="279" />
<p>Inevitably, my summer travels this year became somewhat a last minute affair. Originally I’d planned to make a beeline for Cuba (the thought of sitting on a veranda, with a thick-rolled cigar in one hand and an ice-stacked rum glass in the other appealed greatly) but apparently this time of year can be a bit “typhoon-y” and I’d had my fill of cold and dull weather on my adventures abroad in the past two years.</p>
<p>I was lusting for some sunshine. Despite my acquiring of a tan generally follows a period of burning then peels away like snake skin before I’ve stepped off the plane home, I do enjoy sun drenched countries, and apart from the odd wedding in Spain I’ve not been anywhere really hot since 2007.</p>
<p>So it was decided. South America.</p>
<p>This is quite a big deal for me as it was and is the ‘Elderado’ continent that got me interested in visiting far flung parts of the world in the first place, and a location I had never seriously planned to go to until I had enough time to tackle it properly.</p>
<p>My limited trip this year hasn’t shattered those ambitions. In fact, having just three weeks there, I’m still bound to return to see the parts that really intrigue me (the countries I’ve visited this year were only ever going to be side-notes to my child-borne dreams of seeing the Inca ruins in Peru).</p>
<p>Also this year was the first time I had done the whole trip solo. For at least part of all my previous trips, I have always travelled or met with at least one other person I know. Some people like the complete solace, but I’m not like that. If I’m ill or tired, I like that someone else can read the map or figure out what’s coming next. It’s teamwork and it’s enjoyable. For short bursts I can cope like that, but for three weeks, I’d have been pining for a break from it.</p>
<p>So it was all but inevitable that I would seek out others to travel with, and with the absence of any of my usual Grand Tour companions, I decided to travel with a group organised by Gap. It’s basically just transport, accommodation and a group of likeminded people thrown together (so it’s up to you what you actually do during the trip), and having experienced one before when I travelled in California, I knew and looked forward to what I was getting into.</p>
<p>And so with just ten days to go, the nurse stabbed me with the obligatory set of needles and I was ready to go. A stack of unread paperbacks were stuffed into my trusty rucksack (ten years old, and bound together with 35lb fish wire, but still reliable), a freshly bound moleskiene notebook and quite a lot of clothes that I really should get around to replacing also joined me.</p>
<p>To Buenos Aires I flew.</p>
<h3>Argentina</h3>
<p>I’d already sampled a little Argentinean culture before. A few years ago I’d been lucky enough to drink maté and join in at a number of asados when a friend of mine was playing host to a couple of Argentinian visitors, but that had been the limit of my experience.</p>
<p>It was probably just as well I’d tried these things before, because we didn’t have much time in Buenos Aires (or ‘BA’ for short; a city I quickly came to like) and so I didn’t get a second chance to sample them again here.</p>
<p>I’d been collected from the airport by the immaculately dressed driver called Eduardo. In his seventies he wore a thin black suit, sported a thin grey moustache and flicked tobacco ash from the end of his thinly rolled cigarettes through the half-open car window. As he couldn’t speak a word of English, and my Spanish is limited to asking for beer, I just sat back and enjoyed the journey and his dangerous driving. Ah, at last, truly abroad once more.</p>
<p>BA itself was basking in sunshine when I arrived. I soon met my roommate Scott (or Reed if you believed his passport). Belfast-bred, tequila-infused and (as became quickly apparent) almost entirely nocturnal. The sort of person who is good to spend time in a bar with. We got on well, even if he did manage to out-drink me every night from this point on.</p>
<p>We meandered around the city until it was time to meet the rest of our travel companions. In total we were two Danish, a Dutch, a Kiwi, three Aussies, one Swede, three Germans, two English, a Welsh, an Irish, and our Argentinian tour leader, Juan. Everyone spoke English; no one spoke Spanish.</p>
<p>The first night was a quiet one. Scott needed to rest from prolonged exposure to ‘party hostels’, and I needed to rest from my wonderful (ahem) experiences with American Airlines.</p>
<p>The next day a number of the girls and myself decided to explore the city (the other lads had already spent some time here). With just a day in this European-esque town, we opted to take a bus around to see the major sites.</p>
<p>Lunch had been at a Parisian-style street cafe, and being surrounded by six or so beautiful girls, it was quickly apparent that I looked like some kind of accidental pimp daddy; the group attracting a fair bit of attention from the passing traffic.</p>
<p>We boarded the tourist bus and ambled it’s way around the main sights like a lazy old dog. Once we disembarked at the vibrant La Boca district, we were pretty sure we weren’t going to be able to get back on again.</p>
<p>Juan had already warned us that patience in South America is not just a virtue, it’s an absolute necessity, and we quickly became acquainted with the concept.</p>
<p>Tango dancing, artwork, painted houses and the apparently dangerous neighbourhood around the Boca Juniors stadium entertained us for an hour or two until coldness set in and the group split up into bits. I remained with Jade and Katie to go and explore Recoletto (near the affluent Palermo district) to find where Eva Peron is buried, a cemetery that is apparently quite spectacularly crammed with ornate memorials.</p>
<p>Unfortunately we arrived too late to get inside, but the park right by was already awash with the Saturday evening crowd, who sat sipping at their matés accompanied by their dogs and friends, soaking in the live music and what was left of the setting sunshine.</p>
<p>Food that evening was our first chance to all get around a table together. Downstairs in a hostel basement we ate well and watched a couple of world cup rugby matches over beers and introductions.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a late night particularly, but an early start after drinks is only enjoyed by fools, and so the minibus journey to the ferry gave little time to sober up and recover.</p>
<p>Jade amused us all by routing around in another passenger’s bag (it was accidental) but once she’d finished, we hopped onto the ferry across the Rio de la Plata and into Uruguay for the first time.</p>
Taiwan Once More: Weddings & Beaches2010-11-04T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/taiwan-once-more-weddings-beaches/<p>Leaving from Heathrow always means more hassle than you actually ever imagine there possibly could be. Where you say things like "I'll travel down and catch the plane," what you actually mean is "I'll prepare to leave a full day early, carry unwieldy luggage across London and back, kip on someone's sofa, take public transport an ungodly hour to ensure being at the airport in time, and then hang around aimlessly looking at expensive goods and lamenting the lack of wi-fi until boarding time"</p>
<p>It sort of takes the magic out of flying.</p>
<p>Thankfully the destination nearly always makes up for this.</p>
<p>I arrived at Taipei despite the incoming monsoon, and quickly bumped into two Canadian friends of my cousin who were on the same flight. It turns out they were the people in front of me at the ATM cursing at it blindly in the same way that I was soon to do also.</p>
<p>Nick's wedding was to be the following day, and I'd furiously tried to avoid jet lag, but any idea of catching up on sleep was quickly scuppered by the first activity after lunch - golf.</p>
<p>It's been a while since I last picked up a club, but I played surprisingly well considering. That said, you do reach a point where you can't tell if the alcohol is making your game better, or if you have simply lost the ability to correctly judge your own performance.</p>
<p>The whole experience was made even more bizarre by our caddies; a squad of bright pink tracksuit-clad ladies, all of pensionable age, and not a word of English between them. What they lacked in communication, they made up in eyesight, and could seemingly spot balls that seemed like they had been irrevocably lost. Hawkeye style.</p>
<p>These pink beekeepers (on account of their huge sunshade hats) kept us chauffeured around the course at high speed until all the beer had gone.</p>
<p>The next day was the wedding, and as we were staying at the golf club hotel, it was a pretty laid back morning. A key thing to understand about this event was that it was a case of east meets west - Maxine is half Chinese, half Taiwanese, and Nick is Cannuk. There were likely to be some interesting twists.</p>
<p>This resulted in a colourful mix of clothing and styles, as well as what may well have been the briefest marriage ceremony in the history of weddings (conducted by my aunt, as far as I could work out). I kid you not, the whole thing was over in about one minute thirty seconds, just before the combined paparazzi descended upon the newly weds for the best part of half an hour.</p>
<p>It quickly became apparent that main focus of oriental weddings is the meal. A twelve course affair, we were plied with a huge range of cuisines, that in some cases managed to bemuse both westerners and asians at exactly the same time.</p>
<p>Of note, jellyfish - much like the tentacle of an octopus in shape, but with a gelatinous translucent brown colour, and a delightful crunch inside - it was probably was my favourite new experience. Less so what became known on our table as "burnt bird soup", but on the whole it was a great feast.</p>
<p>The whole event was well-lubricated with the local Taiwan Beer (aka Taiwaneken, due to certain brand similarities to a well known European beer). It wasn't until significantly far into the meal that it was noted that some of the girls might like a drink too, and a small quota of wine appeared, but by this stage most of them had resorted to the hoppy stuff anyway.</p>
<p>The after-party was in a room upstairs, and this is something of a novelty for Taiwanese weddings as the meal usually marks the end of the affair. The bar was very well stocked, however for a period when fellow English-expat Marcus got behind it, I found that with alarming regularity that the drinks I were ordering were being consumed by him before they got anywhere near my hands. After six attempts I finally got my order, but Marcus was a little worse for wear, as were a few others once all the tequila had gone.</p>
<p>I met many of my cousin's friends on visits across The Pond when I was younger, but this was the opportunity to get to know the entire contingent of Canadians who had made it over, as well as one or two of the locals. During the evening there was music, and dancing, and one stage even some golf lessons - all in all a very enjoyable night.</p>
<p>Once the shattered glass had been swept away from the pool area in the morning, and the hangovers had been sedated to a bearable level, we boarded the karaoke bus for a six hour exodus.</p>
<p>This luxurious coach was oddly devoid of karaoke (on account of the PA being broken I think) and took us directly downwards to the resort town of Kenting, which resides very closely to the most southerly point of Taiwan.</p>
<p>This was my first trip to this part of the island, and I was once again thoroughly impressed. This isn't some over developed westerners' haven (like the rest of of Taiwan also, there is practically zero western tourism), but instead an unspoilt beachside view on to the Pacific.</p>
<p>The highlight of this place is the night market, a shining example of one even by Chinese and Korean standards apparently. On several of the evenings we ended up here trying out the local delicacies: "cho doe-fu", accurately translated as stinky tofu; "frying milk" - cubes of milk (don't ask me how) on a spike and fried in milk and batter that taste like marshmallow fritters, and "Ni Hao on a stick", a phrase which means nothing to anyone else, but essentially a whole squid, BBQ'd until the tentacles are crisp and mounted like a lollipop on a wooden skewer. Remarkably tasty if not a little strange to look at.</p>
<p>The string village is packed with trinket shops, neon lights and little seafood eateries. Aside from spending time here, we also took a while at the beach bars soaking up the 30 degree sun, riding scooters and exploring the area.</p>
<p>One trip we made was out to the hot springs not too far up the road. The sulphur-infused waters are kept in pools of varying temperatures from bloody boiling to fricking freezing. However, the star attraction split opinion down the middle; why spend your time with your feet dipped in a pool of ordinary water when you can fill that pond with goldfish-sized, skin-eating fish that swarm at your extremities and chew off any detritus they can get their mouths onto? It's a bit of a funny feeling at first, and one that freaked out a few people initially, but after a while you become quite accustomed to their nibbling, and its actually oddly pleasant.</p>
<p>On one day we took some time to snorkel around the large space-odyssey style rock directly opposite our sea-facing hotel. The water was a bit choppy, but there was some colourful sealife around, and it was really quite pleasant to get a chance to swim in mild waters, albeit in fairly close proximity to the nuclear plant round the corner (a seaside tradition in Taiwan, I have discovered - Feng Shuei or something?).</p>
<p>We also had the opportunity to swim at a sandy beach; one that hurled up huge waves that could upend even the sturdiest of American football players. There is nothing more amusing than watching a six foot Canadian being flipped head-over-heals in a spectacular bicycle kick, then being dragged 10 metres out to sea against his will. We all emerged scraped and bruised (turns out these big waves throw up quite a bit of rock too), but I haven't laughed harder all holiday.</p>
<p>If exposing ourselves to waterborne hazards wasn't enough, the trip to the "breezy coast" was a way to ensure that any open wounds would pale to insignificance to the almighty sand-blasting we endured at this popular cliff top spot.</p>
<p>Driving scooters in the wind was interesting enough, but it became apparent quite quickly that the "breezy" bit in the area name had been thought up by some marketing department and a more apt word they might have appropriated would have be "typhonic".</p>
<p>For some bizarre reason, a TV company had decided to film an advert up here, and I watched with much glee as they attempted to lash down a tarpaulin roof to their set in the force twelve gale.</p>
<p>Less windy was the southern-most tip of the island, where Jeff spotted a giant millipede but which I unfortunately missed. If you are not aware, these beasts can kill a small child with their bite, which is something to bear in mind before you pick one up.</p>
<p>After a week of beer, whisky and beach life, we finally made our way back up to Taipei. There had been significant deliberation on where we would spend our final night, but we were eventually dropped at the door of a rather downbeat looking brick building in the middle of a rather downbeat looking street.</p>
<p>It turns out that looks are deceptive. The rooms here cost a mere £30 a night, but take heed Travelodge, they were nothing short of palatial. My room was probably 5 metres square, with a stone-clad bathroom two thirds that size again. In here was a hot tub, a wall that turned into a waterfall, a second TV, a full-on wooden sauna and a wet room style shower. And that included breakfast too.</p>
<p>Between us we had hired out at least six rooms, and each was individually designed and styled. Dutch, next door to me, had a full on swimming pool of a tub resplendent with disco lighting, and the whole place left me smiling from ear to ear.</p>
<p>By 8am everyone had departed except me, my uncle and aunt (we were to head on to Shanghai together) and unfortunately in the mad scramble to wake up, try and locate both the light switch and some clothing, I managed to miss saying farewell to the other travellers. Needless to say though, the whole week was thoroughly enjoyable and great respite. Taiwan fails to disappoint once more.</p>
<p>Next up, Shanghai.</p>
Shanghai2010-11-04T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/shanghai/<p>Quite unbelievably, what strikes you most about Shanghai simply didn't exist in any form 30 years ago.</p>
<p>The incredible skyline that has gone up here in the past couple of decades is pure eye candy if you have any interest in architecture, and by night, it must rank as one of the most beautiful city views there are,</p>
<p>I was spending this leg of the journey with my aunt and uncle who had also come over from the UK for Nick and Maxine's wedding. They had already booked flights and a tour by the time that I signed up for the trip, so the itinerary was already pretty much set, and of all the parts of this trip, this was always going to be the most expensive pro rata.</p>
<p>We were staying at the four star Courtyard Marriot in Pu-Dong, the financial district of the city. My arrival in the city was my first visit to mainland China properly, as although in the past I have spent time in Taiwan, Hong Kong and Tibet - each one of these regions has some degree of claim to autonomy (or at least individuality). Anyway, what i am trying to say is that this was the first time I needed an proper visa to visit.</p>
<p>It was evening by the time we had settled in, and we took a cab into the heart of the new part of the city which sits to the east of the river. The lights were spectacular, although I'm unsure how much was a consequence of the World Expo (which finished after six months on the day that we left), but it really demonstrates how a city can show off their streets and urban furniture when the town planners put their mind to it.</p>
<p>We'd come to the Super Brand Mall - a colossal food hall on the main traffic roundabout in the city. Sensibly they have ditched pedestrian crossings and light signals in favour of a overhead pedestrian walkway that hovers above the whole island, and you get on and off it via a series of escalators.</p>
<p>Our first stop here was coincidental, but the taxi dropped us off outside a huge cylindrical glass tube, with a glowing white Apple floating in the middle.</p>
<p>This made life very easy for me, as I already had planned to purchase a camera connection kit while I was here (I'd run out of space on my memory cards and wanted to get my photos onto my iPad). This store is fairly new if I recall correctly, and very impressive inside (below ground level), as is the exclusive mall next door, which contains a Selfridges-esque food hall that was far too expensive, but great to browse.</p>
<p>The next day was our city tour of the old town on the other side of the river. Mr Yin, our nominated guide, led us around the various temples, often giving us some history and often little insights into the life of his son as a surgeon in Australia. It was very thorough, and I came away feeling fully educated on both topics.</p>
<p>The tea sampling was particularly interesting. Lodged high up above most of the old town, a girl dressed in scarlet poured out six or seven different drinks to try, then after all the formalities - tried to sell us a load of Chinese speciality tea (as you might expect would happen). The same sort of thing went for the silk manufacturing tour too, but I resisted the pressures until we finally ended up with three tickets to see a performance that Mr Yin personally recommended.</p>
<p>He was very good at his job, Mr Yin was.</p>
<p>By evening we had spent a good time exploring the shops on Nanjing Road (the main shopping district) and after G&Ts at the hotel bar, we went to see our show.</p>
<p>It was a ramshackle mix of acrobatics, dance, magic and performance - some bits better than others, but overall enjoyable. The highlight by far was the motorcyclists riding around the inside of a steel ball. The name of this act escapes me, but they managed to get six bikers in there and it was genuinely awe inspiring. It made up for one or two of the earlier weaker acts.</p>
<p>The final act of the day was to get food. Mr Yin couldn't turn down the offer of a free meal once he'd found us a suitable restaurant (a very trendy mock-communist joint serving good food and beer, called Kommune) but it was a really good place to dine and we were grateful for his assistance during the day.</p>
<p>Our final full day was taken at a leisurely pace, exploring the Bund - a series of colonial style buildings that line the west bank of the river and looking up at their modern cousins on the eastern shore. A river cruise later and some lunch at the quirky signalling tower overlooking the water.</p>
<p>In the afternoon we retraced our steps back to the place where we had eaten the night before, and discovered that the area was far more of a rabbit warren of boutiques, art galleries, trinket shops, cafes and eateries than we had first realised. It was quite easy to get lost in these packed streets, but we eventually escaped as the city turned dark, and made our way over to the observatory on the umpteenth floor of the glittering Hyatt hotel.</p>
<p>This building pitches in near the top when it comes to height on the Shanghai skyline, but is not the tallest, and probably not the most beautiful of all the megaliths here.</p>
<p>My thinking was however that from this building we should get the best view of the city as a whole - being able to view both the extremely famous Pearl TV Tower (that orb like structure they always use as the backdrop during news reports) and the new soaring Shanghai Financial Centre, which looks like the result of something from Tron mating with a bottle opener.</p>
<p>The view was predictably spectacular, and not only over the city. One major feature of the Hyatt is that the hotel lobby ceiling rises 157m from the ground upwards to the viewing platform. With each floor of the building on a ring-like floorplan, it means that you can see directly down the heart of the building to where the guests are checking in several hundred feet below you. It's understandably impressive.</p>
<p>To wrap it all up, we finished the trip with a meal at the Shangri-la on the recommendation of a friend of my aunt and uncle. Budget-friendly it was not (however I wasn't footing the bill on this occasion) but the food was excellent.</p>
<p>Overall, Shanghai has a fantastic energy, and a totally different feel to Hong Kong, which I wasn't expecting. I could probably do with more time here, as I certainly didn't feel like I'd experienced everything this place could offer (how can you in three days?), but I think I could feasibly end up back here in the future.</p>
Korea in the Autumn2010-11-04T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/korea-in-the-autumn/<p>When I realised Taiwan was again on the cards for 2010, I quickly had to make my mind up on any other destinations I would like to tag onto the trip.</p>
<p>Korea was my wildcard choice, just two hours flying time from Shanghai and wonderfully packed with mystery; being both a country I know precious little about, and somewhere I have never been before.</p>
<p>Once concession I must admit is that I had originally planned to split my accommodation between hotels and a traditional Hanook guesthouse experience (tea, sleeping on futons etc) but last minute panic to organise some accommodation meant that I've ended up in a rather glorious boutique hotel for all four nights. Substitute culture and history for modern art and ubiquitous wi-fi (not that that matters in Seoul, the most connected up city on earth, and bleeding with signal, even on the subway).</p>
<p>I arrived on Monday afternoon, but it barely left me time to explore the area in the evening after a long wait at customs and the bus ride from the station. Perhaps I am more out of my depth here than any other place I've been before, mainly on the grounds that I'm travelling alone and have no understanding of the language at all. For the life of me, I still can't recall "annyeong hasayo" when I need it - much harder than the bi-sybalic Manderin "ni hao" or the simple Japanese "konichiwa". And then of course, they use their own bespoke character set too, just to make things awkward.</p>
<p>I'm staying in the Itaewon district of Seoul (through chance rather than by planning) and it becomes instantly apparent when you arrive here that this place caters largely for the 30,000 US troops stationed just a stones throw away.</p>
<p>If until now, you are not at all familiar with Seoul; it's geography, it's history or it's knife edge existence, you should probably know two key things. Firstly, that is that it is so close to the North Korean border that it's within shelling distance; and secondly, for all intents and purposes, it is the key and gateway to the whole of South Korea.</p>
<p>This is probably why there are glass cabinets full of gas masks on the subways. Mercifully the usage instructions spare the usual anime cartoon style that is used wholesale to communicate any visual message across metropolitan Asia (I refer you to such gems as "The Ecstasy Family" - a Simpsons-esque group of cheerfully illustrated crack-addicts who hazily promote a trendy design shop in Taiwan, as just one example).</p>
<p>This titbit should not mislead you however. Inside this massive city, there is little noticeable paranoia - the situation has been roughly stable for some time now, and in fact Seoul has a considerable amount going for it. Impressive boulevards slice across sprawling market streets, and the various ends of the city centre are pinned down by the ancient palaces of the Josean-era kings - and this city feels every bit the modern Asian tiger that I was hoping it would be.</p>
<p>On my first full day, I wandered around this central area for a while before stumbling into a music video being shot on the main drag, then hooked right onto a side street for some lunch. It took about five minutes for me to establish how the restaurant worked, and similarly for the waitress to work out how to best deal with me, but I was eventually fed, and I had my first experience of gimchi - spicy fermented vegetables (cabbage or radish) which are a staple side dish to every meal here.</p>
<p>The architecture is distinctly less Chinese in style than I had expected (reading up on it, there is little reason for it to have much connection) and often more handsome. I took my first full day to explore the UNESCO protected Changdeokgung temple in the super-clear but chilly four degree sunshine. This was a slight variation on my initial plan, to explore the larger and arguably more significant Gyeongbokgung temple complex, but I soon discovered it was closed on Tuesdays, much to my chagrin. But no regrets; the temple I replaced it with was thoroughly different to the others I've seen on this trip so far, and enhanced tenfold by the stunning autumn setting.</p>
<p>Everywhere here is now gold and amber in colour, as the trees are in full autumn attire. This made my trip up the slopes to Namsam even more spectacular; a glowing canopy of woodland spread out below the cable car gondola.</p>
<p>Standing to the south of the jumble of the city centre, this mountain and National Park rises steeply out of the neon and concrete. Atop it is the key modern attraction, the N Seoul Tower, but also the more ancient five-beacons that sit like stone beehives to the one side of the summit.</p>
<p>Up here is a fence covered in locked padlocks littered with lovers' messages, and a pleasant open space, but I was really there to watch the sun go down over the city.</p>
<p>I took my time, then headed to the top of the tower where I got into a great spot for taking photographs, and was able to capture the quivering red disc as it dropped out of view behind the mountains. I hadn't appreciated how quickly the city below would react. Within seconds the spread of the city below transformed from a silver-pink acropolis into a labyrinth of snaking fluorescent traffic streams and neon matchbox-buildings.</p>
<p>Once darked-out, I headed back to Itaewon. I've mentioned the subway already, but for the sake of slightly more detail, it's very simple to use and navigate. Most fares are around £0.75, of which £0.25 is refundable on the basis that you return your travel card at the end of your journey. I've been flitting around on it with no problem, and like most other transport systems in the world, I'm inclined to compare it to the Tube, which is tiny and less-phone riddled by comparison.</p>
<p>However, I didn't need it this morning.</p>
<p>I was called at 7:43am by the front desk of the hotel. "Good morning Mr Higgs, your guide is waiting in reception."</p>
<p>Setting aside that I had been called a full seven minutes before the planned meeting time, I was pleased to discover that I wasn't late, and Kelly (our tour guide) was running a little early (lest I remind you last time I was called by hotel reception in Asia to tell me that if I wasn't checked-out in 15 minutes, I'd be charged for another night).</p>
<p>Today was to be the highlight of my trip to Korea so far, and all likelihood, in totality. Today I got right up-close to North Korea.</p>
<p>Another confession to make here is that this wasn't the trip I had wanted. There are two parts to a visit to the De-militarised Zone (DMZ), and unfortunately, the best of the two had sold out by the time I was able to book.</p>
<p>This second, more-exciting part actually involves stepping inside the blue UN building right in the middle of the no man's land and taking a step over into the chilly communist half of the Korean Peninsular. For those able to do it, you must dress smartly, keep a straight face, forgo photographs, and sign a waiver to agree that you won't get angry in the event that you get shot if things turn sour. Apart from these minor caveats, it's a opportunity that should be seized with both hands if you are presented with the option.</p>
<p>Ultimately however, I was left only with the first part of the tour, which turned out to be really good anyway. The rules are a lot less strict, and not being from a country on a list of banned citizens, we were loaded onto a coach for the great schlep to the world's frostiest border.</p>
<p>As you might expect, the decor is mostly barbed wire, fortifications and landmine warning tags along the edge of the great Han river which separates North from South in places. In 1953, when an armistice was signed after three years of almost forgotten bloodshed (a shame because the UK lost the second most troops out of the supporting nations) and a rough line was drawn across the 38th parallel, along which the two countries still remain divided.</p>
<p>Not that this suited either side particularly. Both still long for re-unification, but when the ideologies differ so greatly, 60 years on it still seems a distant possibility. North Korea had a plan to speed it all up though, and between the mid-1970s and 1990, South Korea discovered four manmade tunnels below the DMZ, stretching out in the direction of Seoul.</p>
<p>North Korea decried them as something the South had fabricated to sully their good name, but also claimed some were coal mines. This was all well and good, except for the distinct lack of coal, something which became apparent when the black paint began to peel off the walls. Nice try though.</p>
<p>We got to descend the Third Tunnel (as it known); the whole experience is quite eerie, from the exploratory bore-holes right up to the CCTV-watched "final blockage" (they installed three between this point and the border). Everything you are told is of course very South-centric, especially the wonderful seven minute video you get treated to, but the highlight is definitely getting the opportunity to observe Kim Jong-il's realm first hand.</p>
<p>They are quite strict about photography here, but the observatory has been built sufficiently high to get a good view over the border, and the young South Korean conscripts are far more willing to pose for a photo with the tourists than perhaps you might expect.</p>
<p>If you want to understand how absurd the whole standoff is, there are a number of great examples of the level of one-up-manship these two nations practice.</p>
<p>A good one is the size of the flag poles in the two closest villages to the respective borders, which lie just 1800m apart. For a protracted period, each flag pole and flag was replaced with an alarming regularity and with ever increasing size until the South realised it was all getting a bit silly and just gave up. For the record, the two flag poles are now mounted on top of what could now only reasonably be compared in size and structure to super-sized electricity pylons.</p>
<p>One of the reasons you are required to dress up for access to the Joint Security Area (alas the bit I missed out on) is so that the North is not fed any material to use as propaganda. Not that they needed to wait for a western tourist to turn up in a mini-skirt - Koreans aren't allowed on the tours anyway - but when those north of the border realised the closest Southern village was a model of respectability, they setup their own 'propaganda village' and so we were told every morning before the tourists arrive at the observatory, they bus in a load of fresh-faced comrade kiddywinks to play outside for the duration, then bus them all back out at the end of the day once the last of the coaches have departed.</p>
<p>It's all quite surreal.</p>
<p>As you might guess, I've become somewhat fascinated by it all. Another interesting thing indelibly marked into my memory today will be the relieved expressions of the three stranded Americans who were reunited with our tour party after the coach left without them. Only after the military policeman pointed out there were less passports shown to him than the manifest indicated did the tour guide have a quick panic attack, turn the bus around, and make a hasty and highly apologetic beeline back to the compound to pick them up.</p>
<p>In someways this was a bit of a shame, as some of the comments these 'strandees' decided to share later in the day would have been better kept to themselves.</p>
<p>The final stop of the day was Dorasan train station. A bizarrely empty terminus branded "the first stop towards the North", it was opened by President Bush in 2002 with much fanfare and the expectation that it might aggravate regular train travel into the mysterious North, into the continent and beyond. However, the plug was pulled almost immediately after it opened, and to date, only one passenger train has ever departed it.</p>
<p>As a consequence, it may now well represent the largest ratio of empty public space to gift shop in the country.</p>
<p>And for the moment, that is all. I have another day here, but unless the DPRK (Democratic Peoples Republic of Korea) decides to popup another tunnel surprise in the next 24 hours, I think the best of my Korea trip has passed. It's been really good though, and I certainly will be doing some more reading up on it all when I get back.</p>
<p>Update:</p>
<p>I didn't manage to post the above yesterday, so have tacked on this addendum. This morning I took it easy, but headed out at 11am to explore the markets and sunken river that flows through the city centre.</p>
<p>A few years ago this was just a dirty stream, but a clean up operation saw it sunken a few metres below street level, lined with cream stone to create a walkway, and planted with rushes and grasses.</p>
<p>It was great, much better than I had expected, and is remarkably quiet considering two major roads flank it at building level. Cleverly, they have installed a number of stones and artworks to the centre of this flowing body of water, and the sound of it rushing into these obstacles breaks up the city noise much further still.</p>
<p>On a number of occasions people have engaged me in conversations as I've walked through the city since I've been here. One guy stopped me to point out two large fish he had spotted in the stream (he walks along it every day during his lunch break), and an immaculately dressed elderly gentlemen started a conversation with me on the subway, amongst various other encounters I've had. People are very friendly and obliging here on the whole, something which the guidebook had already stressed would be an impression that I would struggle to evade.</p>
<p>I was also glad to dive out of the path of the stream at one point. It had been an effort to see what was going on in the streets I was passing, and by sheer coincidence I ended up at one of the markets I had been hoping to explore.</p>
<p>I've previously done markets in Malaysia, Singapore, Taiwan, China and Nepal, but nowhere have I had so much fun browsing as here. I only wish I had had more time and a budget to burn on clothes, as the choice here is both refreshing and of a really good quality. I'm also glad I checked this place out because the much hyped Insadong-gil part of the city was somewhat of a letdown for me.</p>
<p>I can't really convey what makes the shopping here better than elsewhere - perhaps the stall owners give you more room to breathe than at other markets I have experienced, whilst the quality remains extremely high and the selection unimaginably vast. My only concern was the lack of changing rooms, as I've already discovered that my UK size here fits my collar, but practically nothing else - Asians seem to be somewhat more slightly built than me!</p>
<p>Tomorrow I start my return home. I will have fond memories of this trip, and most definitely Korea which has really warmed on me in the past couple of days, apart from the food, of which I still can't say I'm a great fan of. One brief rule of thumb; if it smells sweet and looks sweet, it probably isn't sweet. I've tried enough street food to understand it probably has fish in it. Likewise, with one "western" dish, I was served olive oil, balsamic vinegar and bread, but the latter was so sugary it could have been a cake. Tip: expect anything.</p>
<p>I wonder where I will end up next year.</p>
So Long, Fuhlong2009-10-13T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/so-long-fuhlong/<p>Late on Friday evening I was waiting in the beach house for Nick and Maxine to return, and after a week in pretty much pure isolation, was surprised to see someone appear in the doorway of the house.</p>
<p>On the weekends, most of the english teachers from Jungli travel out to the coast for weekend BBQs, surfing and beach time, and with them come a total of 10 dogs. So in addition to Nick and Maxine's<br />
'Coffee', there was Chris' 'Lunar', two golden retrievers, two more daschunds, a tugo (native Taiwanese breed) puppy 'Tequila', a husky called 'Geisha', a black and white border collie and another one I couldn't identify called 'Caesar'. It was pretty crowded in the beach house living room.</p>
<p>Needless to say there was beer, sand, hats and a late night.</p>
<p>Despite this, we had to be up early in the morning and had been feverishly hoping for good weather. Alas no. Nick, Maxine and I took a four hour road trip down to Taroko Gorge - a massive mountainous region further south east. It's a national park, and usually packed, but we ended up with the place to ourselves - the rain was torrential and the closer we got the the park, less and less of coastal road was left standing.</p>
<p>Trying to describe the toll typhoon rains take on roads is hard, but if you can imagine a single lane road that winds it's way around the headland, directly above the Pacific Ocean - that was our route. The rain swells the existing waterfalls that naturally form in the steep gullies at each bend in the road, and these often overshoot their normal path under the strain of the flow, so that pretty much a fifth of the time you are on the road, you are driving under pounding water from the streams above falling onto the road itself. The water then runs down the road, and as it flows off into the ocean below, it wears away at the edges of the tarmac and takes off great chunks of the surface with it - including crash barriers, houses and trees.</p>
<p>As the remainder of the water passes down the road like a river, it erodes the soft earth from under the surface, and the pressure of the flow underneath punches holes up through it, through which hundreds of gushing springs appear across the entire width of the thoroughfare.</p>
<p>It's pretty spectacular, and that's even before you contemplate the landslides which pepper the road every few kilometres - piles of rock washed down the steep faces of the mountains that litter the road and often limit passage to a single lane. Rock sizes vary from the size of your fist, the the size of three or four cars - thankfully we were on the receiving end of none of these dangerous hailstones.</p>
<p>By the time we made it to the hostel where we were staying, visibility was very low, and the road immediately past our stopping point was closed. We heard there had been a massive landslide around the corner and it had been sealed off completely. The inclement weather didn't stop it still being a pretty spectacular spot - perched high up in valley that rises higher than the Grand Canyon in places, our accommodation was a simple hostel with a roofed but open eating area that doubled up as a car park overlooking the surrounding mountains.</p>
<p>We'd planned a BBQ, and Maxine prepared traditional Taiwanese skewers - bundles of spring onion wrapped in pork which we had alongside torn chicken breast and a healthy three bottles of red. Next door to our building, a large hotel was being renovated, and the only other people staying at our hostel were a group of Taiwanese plumbers who plied us with fruit (like a grapefruit, but less sour), beer, horsenuts, unshelled peanuts and a type of local and sweet Red Bull and coke (though it includes neither) that they knock back as though it wasn't incredibly alcoholic.</p>
<p>As I speak no Mandarin (or for that matter, native Taiwanese) we decided cards would be a good option and played out until the early hours. We finished the evening solving matchstick riddles (like the ones you get in crackers at Christmas) but of course this is a general pastime in China, not some novelty plastic trick.</p>
<p>The next morning was no better weather wise, and Nick and I couldn't find anywhere open serving breakfast, so we took a wander up past the sealed road block to have a look at the landslide. You could hear and see it still going even though it had started two or three days earlier - and we stood and watched from about 200 yards as huge chunks of rock cracked and smashed their way down the rock face into a shale pile that ran into the river below. It was incredible. All the trees around were stacked high and drooping under the weight of the rock dust which looked like thick ash - and on the road the rain water had congealed it into a thick clay-like paste several centimetres thick. You could taste the minerals in the air; it did choke and cloud up at each new rush of the rock fall, despite the persistent rain.</p>
<p>The road had been completely cut off by the rock pile - it had consumed the one end of a tunnel that started not very far ahead of us, and the failing rock face above was several hundred feet high - about half of which was unstable and still breaking away sporadically. With each audible 'crack' came a flurry of more large rocks which thudded down the cliff face then into the shale pile below with a puff of dust - then this was followed by a stream of loose grit and gravel for fifteen seconds to a minute after. This in turn would set off another rock fall and so it would continue.</p>
<p>We quickly discovered we were trapped in the valley as the road on which we had come was also now closed some miles behind us - so we drove to the train station in the nearest town, abandoned the car and took to the tracks. They are a bit funny about animals on public transport, so Coffee was consigned to a shoulder bag for the journey.</p>
<p>By the time we had arrived back in Jungli the rain had subsided, but it remained overcast. Being Sunday, Nick had Kung Fu in Taipei again, so until he returned for another jamming session with the band, I had a few beers with Rick who lives in the house opposite and had arrived here just a matter of weeks after I first visited Taiwan just over five years ago.</p>
<p>The practice room this week was much bigger, and there was a bigger audience this week too. Rob and Bear's girlfriends came by, and Maxine also stayed. Afterwards we headed back to the same 'breakfast shop' we had been to last week for more hot sauce and savoury pastries. It really is fantastic food there.</p>
<p>Monday morning usually means work for all, but after breakfast (we have the same thing every day - a thin egg pastry cooked with onions and pork, washed down with orange juice and green tea - pretty goddamn tasty) Rick and Marcus came over and suggested as I had nothing better to do (which I didn't) that we should take the motorbikes out to the next city to watch some baseball at TGI Fridays. So perhaps not the most cultural thing, but after persuading the barman to make happy hour start a couple of hours early and getting in a platter lunch; it turned out that didn't matter too much anyway!</p>
<p>We got back to Jungli and met Nick at a bar not too far from home, and deciding to leave Marcus and Rick to their own fate there, Nick and I went and got teppanyaki. If you were wondering - yes, it was great.</p>
<p>And that brings us to today - my penultimate day in Taiwan on this trip. Finally the clouds parted and Nick, Coffee and I took the motorbike up into the mountains to a secluded watering hole tucked away and off the main routes. If you've ever seen The Beach, it's a bit like that - a circular pool of clear water with a waterfall that plunges down ten meters on the one side. You can then float down a small outlet into the lower pool where the water is much more still and lagoon like. The water wasn't too cold, but the river had clearly been swelled by the rain and trying to swim against the flow of the waterfall ahead was almost impossible. Even Coffee couldn't resist joining us in the water, but it completely tired him out after a few minutes and he just sat on Nick's back while we swam to shore.</p>
<p>One of the things I remember vividly about my first visit here was bin lan, or betal nut. It's a type of nut the size of a grape, wrapped in it's own leaf and chewed like a chewing tobacco. It quickly bleeds to produce a fiborous husk which you chew, and a bright red liquid which you have to graciously spit out at fairly regular intervals. This can be amusing when done badly - or from the back of a bike - but the net effect of chewing this stuff is a warming like natural high - and the locals can't get enough of the stuff - partially because it's quite addictive. You pick up the small bags from scantily clad bin lan girls, who sit in small glass and neon kiosks every few hundred metres down all major roads. It's surreal and the whole experience is very much one that defines Taiwan to me. Anyway, getting back on the bikes allowed for more than my fair share of betal nut chewing.</p>
<p>So tomorrow evening I fly - another 16 hour adventure or so. I think we go for food again tonight. Looking forward to it already...</p>
Beaches, Leeches and Books2009-10-09T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/beaches-leeches-and-books/<p>Taiwan isn't really a place where you can afford to allow things like natures bad side stop you. Case in point, since I got to Fuhlong - a beach on the east coast of the island I've had to deal with some pretty big spiders, some pretty enormous cockroaches, and a very small leech.</p>
<p>I won't tell you I'm brave about this stuff - cockroaches especially are a bit freaky (especially when they decide to make a beeline for the inside of the fridge when you open the door) but when you combine it with the remnants of a typhoon, leaky beach houses, hungry bedbugs, stray dogs and completely unusual food, you realise it's all just part of the experience. I quite like it actually.</p>
<p>This is the first time I've been near a computer since I got here four days ago (Chris, who lives next door and speaks fluent mandarin, has been kind enough to let me use his mac) and quite happily I've discovered the world is not falling apart. This time up here alone in the beach house has allowed me time to read a couple of books (J.D. Salinger's <em>The Catcher in the Rye</em> and Michael Crichton's <em>Sphere</em>), take it easy, do some hiking, do some mountain biking and explore the coast line.</p>
<p>No one here really speaks any English, so getting by can be pretty funny. My manderin is limited to saying hello, asking for chicken or pork meat and thanking people (or thanking them a lot). I've also learnt about five chinese characters, but it's not particularly useful unless I something is big, in the middle and I want to go in to it or exit it.</p>
<p>This doesn't stop people trying to talk to you. Usually the westerners who are here during the summer weekends do speak some (it's a necessity if you are here for any period of time) but I think the locals expect that. One lady appeared at the back door of the house and spoke to me for a least five minutes after collecting the contents of my bin. I have no idea what she was going on about.</p>
<p>Nick stayed the first night we arrived here but as he had to work he headed back to Jungli on Tuesday, but not until we'd taken out a tandem bike. It wasn't exactly the most masculine thing to do - two lads, riding a tandem, carrying a small sausage dog in the front basket while riding through the countryside. Thankfully, I've seen much stranger things here, so I can't say I was that bothered. Chris thought it was funny though.</p>
<p>The weather has been steady - we've had a couple of bursts of rain overnight, but on the whole the days have been clear, and the last bits of the typhoon have fizzled out. It's not exactly clear skies, but it gave me an opportunity yesterday to hike up to a monastery in the mountains behind the beach.</p>
<p>The place was pretty deserted, and the final ascent demanded some pretty 'rural' travel - through quite a lot of overgrown greenery. Flip flops were never the explorer's footwear of choice, so it wasn't entirely a surprise that I discovered that a leech had attached itself to my ankle.</p>
<p>From my experience in Nepal (where I had seen a guide remove one by ripping it from between his toes) I decided against that bloody course of action. With a bit of boy scout ingenuity, I headed into the Buddhist monastery and lit an incense stick and tried to burn the thing off (pretty much the only option unless you're prepared to wait for it to get its fill and drop off naturally). Thankfully no one was around to witness the thing - it doesn't hurt - that is the leech bite doesn't. But what does hurt is if you manage to burn yourself with the end of the incense. Turns out it works like a dream, but it took three separate attempts to get the bastard, who initially recoiled, but then bit again. Twice. Eventually it worked though and I went on my way, burn marks, leech marks and all.</p>
<p>I've drunk more beer and played more chess than I've had in a longwhile, and it's quite refreshing being in a place so deserted and empty. The Chinese who do live here don't really venture outside at this time of year, and with no westerners around (because it's not the weekend) I've pretty much had the place to myself.</p>
<p>Nick's back tonight and we're going to make a decision about what we will do over the weekend - either stay or head south to Taroko Gorge. Anyway, time to take the bike out...</p>
Hong Kong & Typhoons in Taiwan2009-10-05T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/hong-kong-typhoons-in-taiwan/<p>It's a long flight to the other side of the world. About 16 hours in total to get to Taipei airport including a transfer in Hong Kong and a fifteen minute delay at Heathrow.</p>
<p>It's my second time here; the first visit just over five years ago, and although most of the people I met have moved on, not much else has. My cousin, Nick, is still living in the same building, a big and airy house near Jungli (pronounced Djong - Lee) which is in the north of the country and south west of the capital, Taipei.</p>
<p>Since my last visit he has taken in his fiancé - Maxine, and a excitable daschund - Coffee, who follows you around as though his life depended on it.</p>
<p>I arrived late on Thursday evening and after a few beers took a good long sleep which seems to have prevented any jetlag outright. With Nick and Maxine working on Friday I spent most of the day taking it easy in preparation to get back on a plane - a trip to Hong Kong organised at the last minute. Nick has to get a visa renewal every 30 days or so, and it's a regular journey, although not generally anything more than getting a passport stamp then heading back into Taiwan. This time however we were staying for two nights and being as I'd never been before, a bit of a general exploration.</p>
<p>A few more beers later, it was Saturday and Nick and I headed into the centre of the city - a packed metropolis that rises up out of the edge of the water and one of the most densely populated places on the planet. It's pretty hard to take in the size of the buildings - we were on the 18th floor of our hotel and yet we couldn't see over any other building out of our window. Most were double to three times the height, and every one adorned with some glowing neon advertisement or video board.</p>
<p>We took a cab to the Peak Tram - a steep train ride to a vantage point that sits upon the mountain directly behind the main business and residential district which gives a panoramic view of the whole harbour, and Kowloon, which sits directly opposite. The clarity was fair, but despite being overcast, the clouds diffused the sunlight so brightly that it was with regret I realised I hadn't brought my shades with me. We walked the path that circumnavigates the top of the mountain - peering through the fences that protect the opulent mansions that sit right up here, well away and above the crammed apartment blocks and skyscraping offices below.</p>
<p>We ate well here - and in true Hong Kong fashion - an almost entirely western experience at Bubba Shrimps. OK, so not particularly cultural, but they do make bloody good cajun shrimp with fried bread...</p>
<p>We got a cab to the town of Stanley in the afternoon - a trip that took us to the other side of island and past several busy beaches but deserted waters (it appears people don't swim here, for whatever reason) and after briefly skipping through the packed market made our way to the ferry pier.</p>
<p>We sat and waited under the pontoon watching the locals mussel-picking and line-fishing until our trip back to Hong Kong arrived - a traditional sailing junk (powered entirely by a very noisy engine) but on which we managed to get the best seats and enough beer to take us right around the island again and then onto Kowloon.</p>
<p>This busy shopping district heaves with people pouring in and out exclusive shops and malls - Boss, Cartier, Prada, D&G etc but with a little extra searching, yields some truly hidden gems. Little local markets and malls which are practically unvisited by tourists or Chinese - they swarm with Hong Kong's African and Indian communities.</p>
<p>We stopped harbourside to watch sunlight disappear only to be replaced by the garish glow of a thousand neon billboards and a million office and apartment lights flicker on across the city. If there is ever a place to try and gauge the size of a city population in one eyeful, this is it.</p>
<p>We stayed for the daily light show (and as Nick pointed out, disappointingly not accompanied by live music) then fell back into the hustling market halls to find a small Indian restaurant somewhere in the heart of a building which served a fantastic meal of poppadums, lamb on the bone, saag (spinach) chicken and naan amongst others. It's the best Indian food I've had since Delhi, and cost us next to nothing.</p>
<p>The next morning was much clearer, a symptom of an approaching or nearby typhoon, but we had to catch a flight back to Taipei and so took ourselves back to the airport for the 90 minute jaunt back across the channel.</p>
<p>By the time we got back, the wind had really picked up and although we didn't get any rain, it was pretty clear from the cloud that Typhoon Parma was getting close. It's not hard to see the menace in the skies - the clouds split into layers and move rapidly. As the weather system revolves, the tail brings the rain, and so the further out you are from the centre, the less frequent the downpours. We remained pretty dry until late afternoon when Nick needed to get into Taipei city for a Kung Fu class - and so while he got on with that, Maxine and I braved the weather on the streets of the city - getting to Memorial Hall to watch changing of the guard, and trying a few local delicacies.</p>
<p>I'm pretty good with most food, and tried 'stinky tofu' at one of the night markets on my last visit, but there was a real mix of stuff this time - some good, some I wasn't that so bothered about. The small fried 'snack fish' and shrimp(which you eat, shell and all) were nice, but I wasn't so keen on the the peanut-powdered pigs blood lolly (too spicy) or the deep fried tofu (I don't really care for tofu anyway, whatever you do to it). The nicest thing was definitely the white rice sausage and the luminous green sugar cane juice.</p>
<p>We made our way to Taipei 101 - the largest building in the world since 2004, and though we didn't go up to the observatory (visibility was pretty much negligible at this point) the structure itself looks incredible amongst the swirling clouds and inside is every bit as huge as you might expect.</p>
<p>In the end we had to rush back for the final event of what had otherwise been a pretty packed day anyway. Nick plays in a band and there was the weekly jam session back in Jungli. Squeezed into a tiny little padded room on the fourth floor, it was great to get to hear some live music and meet some more long-term Taiwan-resident westerners. Following a pattern fast emerging on this trip, after a few more Taiwan Beers, we found food at a small, family run, late-night patisserie.</p>
<p>And so today is Monday and I have another chilled out day. The typhoon hasn't truly struck (much to the chagrin of everyone, who it turns out were all looking forward to a day off work) but the rain is persistent and so this evening I'm heading to Fulong - a beach on the east of the island where I will be staying alone for the next few days to get some respite, read a few books and hopefully see so whatever of the typhoon remains.</p>
<p>Oh, and I'd forgotten how much I liked this place and how strangely crazy it all is.</p>
Multipack Presented2009-02-25T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/multipack-presented/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/tequila-feb-09.jpg" />
<p>I've been thoroughly booked up the past few days. What with having a bit of a large night out on Friday with George, Will and Gwyz I was on surprisingly good form for Saturday's Multipack, although I did avoid revisiting the beer.</p>
<p>Hosted entirely in Digbeth (just below Brum city proper) we had a really good turn out and I met a good number of new faces. Kudos to <a href="http://mostlyhuman.co.uk/that-was-multipack-presents-1">Mr Oxton</a> who made a nice comment about me on his blog for the price of a Guinness.</p>
<p><a href="http://eclecticdreams.com/blog/slides-from-multipack-presents-wai-aria-intro">Matt's talk on ARIA</a> was a nice little intro to a wider subject that I had previously known little about, whereas <a href="http://www.brucelawson.co.uk/">Bruce</a> very neatly illustrated some of the finer points of HTML 5 as it stands and the political wrangling that always threatens with web-specs. <a href="http://www.kryogenix.org/days/2009/02/22/a-wai-aria-stylesheet">Stuart</a> rounded off everything with the most technical part - outlining the best bits of 'new' JavaScript and what we can look forward to from browser support in the future. I suppose it therefore was only fitting that he had co-ordinated with Apple to release the upcoming beta of Safari so soon afterwards... (I also quite surprised myself when I realised I had understood pretty much all of it).</p>
<p>Other things I took away from the day was a brief and sandwich-punctuated discussion about Microformats and Birmingham Social Media with <a href="http://pigsonthewing.org.uk/">Andy Mabbett</a>; a chance to examine the new and neatly put together studios of <a href="http://oneblackbear.com/">One Black Bear</a>; discuss wacky Japanese architecture with Jon Dennis and discover why exactly Tess was brandishing a thick PHP textbook at the last meeting. And of course it was great to see all the usual suspects as well. <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/igtastical/sets/72157614191240801/">Photos here</a>.</p>
<p>The only disappointment was that the sun didn't last until Sunday but since then I've seen Raj, Tom and George, caught up on Lost and Flight of The Conchords (of which episode 5 is a cracker) organised go-karting for the weekend and been pleased by what the accountant had to say about the business helping to pay the rent.</p>
<p>Tomorrow I'm doing my annual attendance at the old school, answering questions on web design for kids about to pick their A-Level subjects. The buffet is usually excellent.</p>
<p>I'm also looking forward to the next couple of months. I've organised a trip down to Southampton on business, have a great piece of work coming up which almost makes me envious of myself (if that's possible) and am eagerly awaiting delivery of rare book purchase (for me anyway) - the <a href="http://typedeskref.com/">Typographic Desk Reference</a>. It will nicely prop up the one other proper design book I own.</p>
<p>I think this photo most adequately sums up last Friday.</p>
Switzerland2008-12-01T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/switzerland/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/swiss08.jpg" alt="Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland" />
<p>I've wanted to visit Switzerland for a long time. Of all the western European nations, it's one of the most interesting politically, historically and scenically and so I was really pleased when James (who I tend to do photography trips with) decided he'd like to try it too.</p>
<p>I gave myself the week off and we flew from Luton on a bitter Sunday morning, and were more than relieved that despite the temperature in Geneva, the weather was crisper; less sleety and less wet.</p>
<p>We spent the next few days as the only residents of a hotel in Interlaken (quite literally, even the staff weren't on-site most of the time) and took time to explore Murren, Thun, Wengen and number of other mountainside/lakeside villages. Ski season hasn't yet commenced, but the first snow is falling, which made for ideal photography conditions - unspoilt slopes, no overcrowding and complete isolation in some cases. On a couple of occasions we ended up in normally buzzing villages only to find that most of the transportation wasn't running, let alone anyone else in sight. It was highlighted by the fact in the five or so days I was away I didn't have a single opportunity to speak to anyone who wasn't Swiss.</p>
<p>Limited German and French didn't matter much as most people speak English, but I actually enjoy the challenge and being the only other two languages I have any knowledge of, meant I got to try both.</p>
<p>The highlight of Interlaken was definitely heading up to the Jungfraujoch - 3471 metres. Stupidly, despite my own interest in the mountain and it's conquest, it had completely escaped me that the Eiger (especially the White Spider, or famous North Face) was actually in the immediate group of three mountains ahead of us. It really was stunning. The weather had been snowy and cloudy below about 2000m, but from the railway station at Kleine Scheidegg, looking up at the three mountains, we had exceptionally good visibility.</p>
<p>It's expensive in Switzerland, but Swiss Pass railway passes halved the price on the few lines that aren't 'all inclusive'. You could feel the altitude, although it wasn't anything like Tibet (where dizziness turned into a splitting headache), and instead made the whole experience even more surreal. Outside on the plateau the temperature was a chilling -18.8°C but it made a great platform for taking photographs. The only downside of these pre-prepared spaces is that everyone gets the same image - but unfortunately there is little other option at that sort of height without a helicopter and money to burn.</p>
<p>On Wednesday we returned to Geneva and had a chance to have a look around the Old Town, not before James took the hotel's rooms to pieces (critically, not literally). As someone who designs them for a living he was able to point out some pretty clever cost saving techniques that you wouldn't necessarily have considered before.</p>
<p>Historically of course, Geneva has an important role to play in both the League of Nations and the UN, and it was interesting to step in the same footsteps as some of the greatest world leaders. Inter-war European relations was one of my pet topics until A-Level and it really puts things into perspective when you see the rooms from where Haile Selassie made his impassioned plea and where the Geneva Convention was first signed in the Alabama Room at the Hotel de Ville. All good history stuff.</p>
<p>After getting back in time for Saturday's rugby, I caught the train to meet with Sean before the match. I don't think we expected too much from England's performance, but after a fairly stale first half against the All Blacks (6-12), the second half could have provided a surprise result. It did, and we lost spectacularly.</p>
<p>Actually it wasn't all bad, but some pretty awful discipline left us playing with 14 men for most of the game, and some lazy play and lazy kicking meant we we're pretty stuffed.</p>
<p>When I got back at around 11pm I was surprised to find myself in the car heading over to Kidderminster to meet up with George, Tom and Gaz for a celebratory drink (George getting back from Canada). We ended up in a lock-in I think because the beer was still flowing until the early hours, but I had the benefit of a fantastically comfy spare bed and didn't wake up until midday.</p>
<p>A good week off, all-in-all. <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/igtastical/sets/72157610531491948/">Photos are here</a>.</p>
Spain2008-08-31T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/spain/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/poo.jpg" alt="Poo, Spain." />
<p>A week away in Spain last week was very much deserved; a chance for some respite and to catch some rays after our miserably wet summer. I went about this with gusto and torched my chest on the first day. Result.</p>
<p>Despite the pain, Sean, Ryan and myself set about the Asturian town of Gijon (North West Spain) and found ourselves wallowing in seafood and the local cider, which is poured from a height and swilled down quickly. We even managed to fit in some beach prowling, tapas chewing and an eventful Iberian musical experience (which included beer, The Go! Team, a bull fighting ring and some early morning violence).</p>
<p>In the second half of the week we stayed with Ryan's girlfriend Aihnoa at her family's holiday home further along the coast in Llanes (neighbouring the town of Poo). More seafood, more cider, drinking games with the locals, a failure to grasp the language and some swimming in the sea later, and the holiday was over very quickly and I spent a further four hours in the car driving back from Essex.</p>
<p>It was all suitably fantastic.</p>
Foo Fighters and Led Zeppelin At Wembley & Then Silverstone2008-06-08T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/foo-fighters-and-led-zeppelin-at-wembley-then-silverstone/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/foos-silverstone.jpg" alt="Foo Fighters, Wembley and Adam Christodoulou with the Pit Babes, Silverstone." width="480" height="720" />
<p>The first thing I would like to do is thank Red Bull and Double Decker for their continued support this weekend. Had it not been for these two items, this post would most certainly not have been written tonight.</p>
<p>On Friday lunchtime I drove down to Banbury (my first 'real' outing in the new car - it's like driving a eiderdown when compared to the old beast) and met Dan and Dave at Wembley in mid-afternoon. Rumour had it there would be some 'special guests' (I thought the support act, Supergrass, would be good enough) but most people were thinking Paul McCartney. Dave suggested he'd heard Led Zeppelin might appear, but it was hard to believe, although I did mention as we passed through Gate M that the Foos do specify on <a href="http://www.thesmokinggun.com/backstagetour/foo/foo3.html">their rider that there are only three bands they would ever be prepared to share a dressing room with</a>, one of those bands is the aforementioned Supergrass, secondly Oasis and finally Led Zep. I didn't really expect it to happen.</p>
<p>Anyway, the gig was superb. Currin had never been to a proper rock gig before, and neither me or Dave had ever been to one in Wembley Stadium, so there was something new for all of us. It was insanely packed in front of the stage and as the two and a half hour set drew on, we all ended up closer and closer to the front. Eventually we all got separated. Dave told me after he got right on the barrier, whereas I was four rows back where the only way to keep upright was to jump as high as everyone else and the sweat was so thick it was like glue. Yes a lovely image, but it's hard to express how god damn brilliant it was. And then they announced Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones were coming on and the crowd went even more wild. Of course, the presence of Robert Plant might have been nice too, but I'm not complaining; that's two for the price of one as far as I'm concerned.</p>
<p>I caught a train back to Banbury, then drove the remainder of the way, arriving in Lower Brailes at about half one. A long day. I stayed with relatives, then woke at seven to get back on the road and over to Silverstone for the Renault World Series.</p>
<p>It took me a little while to figure out that the Renault World Series is not just one super race, it's the name of the event, and all the various classes of Renault motorsport compete on the same day. Will managed to acquire the team buggy for long parts of the day and we spent a lot of time dishing out promotional material (well, our 'pit babes' did, but it's hard work watching, taking photos for the website and then restocking the girls with more flyers).</p>
<p>Being as <a href="http://www.adamchristodoulou.com/">Adam's Formula Renault races</a> were at opposite ends of the day, there was a lot of time to kill between 9am and 5pm, but after qualifying third in both rounds, he snatched second place in both the morning and afternoon session keeping him firmly at the top of the championship.</p>
<p>I managed to acquire my first sunburn of the year, and was quite relieved to make it home at 8pm - a long, long day. Not much relaxing at all this weekend, but really extra special for all of the above. All I need now is roughly 16 hours of sleep.</p>
Brands Hatch & Wales etc2008-04-01T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/brands-hatch-wales-etc/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/redkite.jpg" alt="Red Kite in the Elan Valley." width="480" height="300" />
It's been a long weekend.
<p>I took Friday as day at the motors (mixing business with pleasure) and with a bit early morning travel managed to get down to Brands Hatch for 9ish. I had been hoping to get to see more than just practice day, but as things happened, the weekend was already booked up (I will explain later) and so I was only able to stay for the one day before having to head back home.</p>
<p>In simple terms, a client's son (Adam) competes in Formula Renault (think next is Formula 3, then GP2, then Formula 1) and he invited me to come down to watch the opening race of the season. It's been a couple of years since the last time I got to watch (at Donington) and it's something I really enjoy so was more than happy to get down there, especially as last weekend didn't prove to be much of a break in the end.</p>
<p>Will also came down and we had the full day slinking around the pits, paddock and stands. It's great to get full access to these places, and to get really up close with the kit, especially as I'd taken the SLR down. The weather conspired against us however, and most of the day it bucketed it down so I spent a lot of time collecting puddles in my camera bag. Despite this it was still bloody great, and although not an official race day, Adam's results were good and looked promising for qualifying on the next day.</p>
<p>After making an epic journey back home, the next morning Deako turned up at 10am ready to get over to Wales. After the success of our photo trip to the lakes six months ago we'd decided to plan another, this time to the Elan Valley.</p>
<p>We were staying in Rhayader (a place which I've visited/walked/camped around several times before) and made it our base to get out into the valleys. Unfortunately the weather followed, and we spent a good few hours at the top of the incredibly full and impressive dams contending with pretty heavy conditions. It wasn't good photography weather, but we managed to get a few locations in before the evening.</p>
<p>Thankfully Sunday was brighter and we traced the second, longer chain of dams and reservoirs. If you don't really know about Elan and these structures, essentially if you live in or around Birmingham, the water you drink came from here. Most of the five or so dams were built between the last decade of the 19th century and the early 1950s, and they are really impressive bits of architecture. Several valleys were flooded to make way for the new reservoirs and one lake alone contains enough water at any one time to supply Brum for up to 15 days. Eerily, several villages and substantial large houses were submerged in the process, and they still sit at the bottom of these vast pools in which you cannot sail or swim. The scenery is stunning, and after the heavy rainfall, all of these structures were overflowing with run off. It's a very impressive sight, especially from the base.</p>
<p>In the afternoon we had reached Devil's Bridge, but as the weather had started to deteriorate again we took a trip to Aberystwyth where it cheered up and we met up with Damith (one of James' old housemates from Loughborough). We took an unplanned trip to the beach and my first ever experience of home-cooked Sri-Lanken food (which was delicious and despite containing copious amounts of chilli, I managed without a problem).</p>
<p>This morning required some coordination as both mine and Deako's phones were out of battery (mine unfortunately wasn't just out of battery it transpires) but we eventually managed to organise getting to breakfast at the right time (our hotel rooms were in different buildings on different streets) and get all the way back out to Devil's Bridge before we realised neither of us had handed our keys in at checkout.</p>
<p>Thankfully we had planned to return at lunchtime for one final photo opportunity in Rhayader, so after tackling the waterfalls and Jacob's Ladder, we returned the hotel, handed in the keys and spent the last hour filling up our final memory cards with photos of red kites - a bird of prey that thrives in the Elan Valley and can be relied upon to arrive at the right time every day to feed in a field left with carcass scraps. The hardest thing to do is convert 200 shots made in quick succession into just three or four prize photos.</p>
<p>And so I'm back, with a <em>really</em> broken phone and a very long list of to-dos.</p>
<p>I was finally able to find out that Adam Christodoulou finished first and smashed the Brands Hatch lap record on Sunday in the opening race which is a great way to start the season.</p>
<p>This week is going to be full on.</p>
The Lakes2007-10-01T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/the-lakes/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/313.jpg" alt="In the Lakes." />
<p>On Thursday morning I made my way to Lichfield to meet up with <a href="http://www.jamesdeakinphotography.com/">Deako</a> and started on our way up to the Lake District. My first venture up there in four or so years (since the days of Duke of Edinburgh walks), this was a photography trip. I haven’t had a proper break since mid May so it was a chance to grab a few days of semi-rest too.</p>
<p>We covered a lot of distance in the three days we were there, picking up a good number of shots (which I’ve yet to Flickrise). On the first night we spent time over at Rydal Water, Grasmere and then Langdale where we ate at The Sticklebarn (a place I stayed during the residential part of the aforementioned <abbr title="Duke of Edinburgh's">DofE</abbr> award).</p>
<p>The roads are hilly and the weather cold at times, but really we couldn’t complain – it was decent walking weather and the light seemed to hold. We didn’t even get rained on. On the second day we went out on the Kirkdale pass to the coast over the mountains out to Wast Water then onto Scafell Pike and walked the nearby Great Gable.</p>
<p>While we were at the top of this last mountain we were overflown by what looked like four Spitfires/Hurricanes at about 60ft, but I’m now fairly convinced these were just training planes. Still, we didn’t get our cameras out in time, but I did managed to catch one good shot of one of them heading out of the other end of the valley.</p>
<p>On the Saturday (and after a better night’s sleep for the lack of snoring we had had to endure on the Thursday night in the hostel) we went out to Derwent Water, Keswick, Thurlmere, Buttermere, Borrowdale and Ullswater, doing a couple of shorter walks up near Honiston Pass.</p>
<p>Deako shoots a <span class="caps">EOS</span> 10D which is a couple of levels up from the 350D I use, and it was good to compare the results. I probably will upgrade the camera body at some point (even though I’ve been very pleased with it so far), but as things only get exponentially more expensive from this point on, it probably won’t be that soon.</p>
<p>We got back down to the Midlands on Sunday morning and only in a couple of hours (which is pretty good going) and despite a late night in Penrith with Bev (a friend of James’) and her fiance, Kev. I have to say I was more than impressed with Penrith (considering it isn’t really somewhere I would have considered going out), but it wasn’t bad at all.</p>
<p>So after all that I have a large stack of images to sift through, tag and upload, not to mention responding to the backlog of voicemails that are filling up my phone.</p>
Returning To Tibet2007-08-20T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/returning-to-tibet/<p>I’ve finished <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Return-Tibet-Heinrich-Harrer/dp/0753808048/ref=sr_1_1/026-5558416-7399659?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1187650821&sr=1-1"><em>Return To Tibet</em></a> , Heinrich Harrer’s second book on his time in Tibet. Written in the early eighties, soon after the border was reopened for the first time since the Cultural Revolution (1960s), this book is a completely different animal to his first volume, <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Seven-Years-Tibet-Paladin-Books/dp/0586087079"><em>Seven Years in Tibet</em></a> .</p>
<p>For a start this not a story – more of an account – and it only spans but a couple of weeks. By far the most significant change though is how much more political this is than <em>Seven Years</em>.</p>
<p>Harrer clearly was disgusted by many of the changes since the time he spent there, and although the physical destruction of the country’s heritage clearly appals him, I also found his negative attitude towards the Tibetans who collaborated with the Chinese revealing. In the first book there is little in the way of a personal revelation – much of what he says is very matter of fact – but here we learn his opinions on the Tibetans in general. If you can believe anything of the film in relation to his personal behaviour, it is clear why he now expresses his admiration for the <em>Khampas</em> (out-of-city warrior tribes) and belittles those who co-operated with the Chinese invaders in order to save themselves.</p>
<p>I wasn’t so sure of the book format this time – many of the chapters are of unequal length and at times Harrer repeats himself, but by the final sections I definitely was reaping the benefit of his insights. The more I have read, the more I have found his story ingratiating. With it being nearly 25 years since this second book was written, it is interesting to now compare my own experiences with his.</p>
<p>This book is not to be tackled without first reading <em>Seven Years</em>, and doesn’t quite grip you in the same way, at least initially and certainly if you are more interested in a good story than reminiscing on the past, the airing of personal regrets (if circumstances had been different) and conversations with Buddhist lamas on the level of oppression suffered by their countryfolk.</p>
<p>Overall I enjoyed it, although not as much as the first book. It had that same appeal of the ‘Seven Up’ television series – with a genuinely worthwhile gap left between instalments (unlike the distance between Charlotte Church’s two autobiographies). </p>
<p>Harrer died in January last year, which is a shame as there are many questions that seem unanswered and especially in relation to the differences between the books and the 1997 film portrayal. I don’t have anything concrete to back this up with, but after reading this second book I get the impression Harrer probably wasn’t too dissimilar from his portrayal on the screen.</p>
<p>His full autobiography is due out this year, so I’m hoping to get my hands on a copy. In the meanwhile, I’m going to have to locate some other reading material…</p>
Seven Years In Tibet2007-06-29T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/seven-years-in-tibet/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/293.jpg" alt="A monk at a monastery near Lhasa (taken earlier this year)." />
<p>I’ve mentioned this book before, but I was half way through it then, so now I’m at the end I thought I’d pen a review.</p>
<p>I suppose I could have written about the two other books I have read that have a vague connection to the topic/geographics — Palin’s <em>Himalaya</em> and Craig’s <em>Tear’s of Blood</em>. Both are very different reads (one is a travel log and the other is a freedom campaigner’s account of historical events), but neither was really a page-turner.</p>
<p>By the end of both I was finding it a chore to get through another chapter, and maybe with <em>Tears of Blood</em> it was more to do with me trying to enjoy actually being there rather than spending the whole time feeling obliged to read. But the difference between these two books and Heinrich Harrer’s insight into the Shangri-la of 1940s Tibet (but really it could have been set at any time before the Chinese occupation) is that I finally found a book that drew me in.</p>
<p>Harrer does not mince his words. At times I felt that if I had not ‘been there, done that’, that a lot of his reference points would be lost on me. He doesn’t go out of his way to explain unnecessary detail, and his descriptions are not packed with metaphors and flamboyant language. Well it might have been in the original German script, but if so, it’s all been lost in translation.</p>
<p>But despite only having a brief encounter with Tibetan life, this book gave me enough to rekindle my memories and reabsorb myself in what seems like a mythical way of life. It’s hard to believe that for the most part is still very much a real existence in most parts of Tibet.</p>
<p>Harrer’s chequered past is not really addressed at all, and until I looked him up after completing the book I had not been aware his previous involvement with the Nazis. Apparently he never was involved in any thing particularly questionable, and his merits as an Olympic athlete and mountaineer probably should bear more mention, but it was an interesting discovery none the less.</p>
<p>Maybe not knowing so much about the author from the book or before I started was a good thing. The brief context-setting in the first chapter is adequate to set the scene and (like the rest of Harrer’s text) is in complete contrast to the overblown introduction (at least in the 1983 edition I’ve read).</p>
<p>Harrer recounts all events with brevity and plain language that tells the story with clarity and not necessarily beauty. Without accompanying photographs the book lacks somewhat. Not only did photography and videography become a key part of his time with in Lhasa and with the Dalai Lama, it also is needed to really illustrate what Tibet looks like. We have nothing in the West that even compares slightly and although most people know what The Himalaya looks like, Tibetan culture is still a mystery to most.</p>
<p>I hadn’t visited many places that Harrer did on his journey, and the places where our paths did match, he doesn’t give enough away to really explain the place (as I would have). This book is far more event-centric rather than concerned with the details of the towns and vistas, but I don’t think it suffers too much because of this and it makes the whole text an easy read. Even by the end we are none the wiser to the personality of his seven-year travelling companion of Peter Aufschneiter.</p>
<p>I think <em>Seven Years</em> is worth a read, but I think you need to tackle it in context. A map of the Himalayan region to hand and a brief insight into the history of the Dalai Lama & Panchen Lama before you start will help. Don’t worry about being versed on the complications of China’s occupation – before that the history of Tibet was pretty straightforward and quick to pick up on.</p>
<p>For anyone who has been to Tibet or is thinking of going, it’s an essential.</p>
Fattepur Sikri, Agra, Delhi, Then Home2007-05-14T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/fattepur-sikri-agra-delhi-then-home/<p>The final two days in India were pretty spectacular. After departing Jaipur for Agra (tourist trap hell according to the guide book) we stopped off for a couple of hours at another of India’s previous capital cities, Fattepur Sikri. Eventually abandoned due to a scarcity of water, we weren’t overly impressed with much here.</p>
<p>Thankfully Agra was not too far away, and so we met our next guide, Bilal, who took us to the city fort and spent most of the time asking us trick questions. By the time we got our first glimpse of the world famous Taj Mahal (from a distance) we were far more enthusiastic than we had been looking around at the comparatively plain FS.</p>
<p>Despite the praises I sang of the hotel in Jaipur, Agra managed to turn it up one last notch. This old colonial building, now the Grand Imperial, was built by the ‘Britishers’ as a hotel and has since been refurbished into it’s former glory, if not a little better. Although the restaurant service was a little slow, the expansive rooms and palatial feel made up for it – even the rooms are named after notable Mughal emperors.</p>
<p>The next morning was a 5am start to catch sunrise at the Taj. Unfortunately the grounds are locked until 6am, which meant the sun was well and truly risen by the time we made our way to the top of the famous reflective pools that surround the main building.</p>
<p>It really is impossible to put into words how stunning this building is. There is nothing vaguely similar in either western architecture or even colours that competes with the shear planes of Indian marble and the hundreds of thousands of individual precious and semiprecious stones that make up the Taj.</p>
<p>Immaculate, the building shows some signs of discolouration, but this has become less of a problem since all polluting vehicles have been banned from the immediate vicinity of the garden walls in recent years.</p>
<p>Built as a mausoleum to his dead wife, the Mughal emperor who built this entirely symmetrical building fully intended to build a matching ‘inverted-colour’ version on the other side of the river that runs alongside. This all-black construction would have cost considerably more (black marble not being a local rock) and probably taking another 22 years to complete. His son (killjoy) decided this was just too much, and so locked his spendaholic father up in a specially built prison until his death 8 years later.</p>
<p>It is quite clear how this is one of the more famous wonders of the world.</p>
<p>After Taj Mahal it was a case of breakfast, then a brief stop at a marble factory to watch inlay work being done before taking the long ride back to Delhi.</p>
<p>We spent the afternoon walking around the city-central ‘circus’ of shops and boutiques known as Connaught Place. At one point we even played host to four random Indian English students who just wanted a bit of a chat, which was nice. Unfortunately we ran short of time on trying to catch another Bollywood film though.</p>
<p>Having spent a week in India eating curry every mealtime, it was only appropriate that our final dining out should be at a Chinese. Oh well.</p>
<p>A few hours later and I was on a plane back to the UK via Milan. Sam remains in Delhi for another day until her flight to Malaysia, while I spent the majority of today arranging my transport home from London.</p>
<p>I’ve enjoyed the whole four week break. I’m hoping to get some photos up sooner rather than later and also get some fresh clothes on the go.</p>
<p>It’s going to take couple of days to work through my in-tray.</p>
In The Pink City2007-05-11T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-the-pink-city/<p>The old part of Jaipur was painted pink (more a terracotta colour) over 100 years ago for the visit of a prince, and ever since it’s remained that way. We arrived here yesterday from Pushkar where we had an early morning start for a desert camel trek at sunrise.</p>
<p>I’ve never sat on a camel before and it’s not quite like sitting on a horse (getting on and off is a gyroscopic experience too), but Tony (my camel) and Johnny (Sam’s camel) didn’t seem to bothered that we were novices.</p>
<p>It was the second time we have had to break out of a hotel in the early hours before any staff had awoken (due to us forgetting to tell anyone of our plans) but it was worth it and we took three hours to venture out into the surrounding areas and up and down sand dunes before returning to meet Mr Singh and get on our way to Jaipur,</p>
<p>Our hotel in Jaipur took us a little by surprise. After doing a few passes of the road we eventually found the place, set back and quiet compared to the noise outside. We had requested our tour agent try and get us into the nicest hotels he could for our money, and despite not being a five star we’ve got marble, arches, a three piece suite and matching four poster bed so we’re not complaining too much.</p>
<p>After dumping our stuff we met our next guide who took us to the City Palace, the residence of the royal family and king of Rajastan. A personal friend of the current Windsors & Co., the collections and parallels are interesting.</p>
<p>Included in the museums and grounds are two vast pure silver urns (used to carry water from the Ganges to Britain for the coronation of Edward <span class="caps">VII</span>) that are as high as me and huge carpets the size of houses (so big they no longer can be displayed on the floor).</p>
<p>After a good exploration of the palace, we visited the royal astronomical instruments. The initial reaction to these megaliths is that they were probably built in the 1980’s as some kind of modern art park, but in reality they are over 250 years old and are an incredibly accurate and sophisticated set of marble devices, including the largest (and therefore most accurate sundial in the world) which stands about seven or eight elephants high.</p>
<p>In the evening we came back via a hand-carpet factory before going out for a traditional Rajastani evening. There were all the awkward hallmarks of being a British tourist abroad including having to wear a turban (badly) and struggle to eat while sitting on the floor (pins and needles). Sam got henna-ed up on both hands and feet which meant she was walking around like a zombie until this morning when the whole lot could be peeled off.</p>
<p>This morning was a trip over to the Amber Fort (the previous residence of the kings, but abandoned for 250 years) where we took a swift elephant ride (this time in a proper padded saddle box) up to the top of the hill and had a couple of hours of exploration.</p>
<p>This afternoon has been quieter. With another nice pool at the hotel, we’ve taken time to recover from the heat and early starts. Tomorrow, Agra.</p>
Pushkar2007-05-09T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/pushkar/<p>So things are going much better than we expected. Delhi usually starts travellers off on a torrent of horror stories, but we’ve found a guide and we’re very happy.</p>
<p>We stayed for the last two nights near Connaught Place, central New Delhi and had the great luxury of an air con room (Lucy!). In the morning we were met by our driver (Mr Singh) and our (opinionated) guide.</p>
<p>First stop was Lakshminarayan Temple, a modern Hindu shrine, painted in traditional yellows and oranges and beautifully decorated in marbles. We found this was a recurring theme around the city. The next stop was India’s largest mosque which again was sandstone and marble construction. It’s hard to express how impressive this building is but in the 37 degree heat of Delhi in the morning and with a pale yellow sky the whole thing is stunning.</p>
<p>Next up was a drive past the Red Fort and bustling Chadni Chowk (like Delhi’s Oxford Street) before heading to Humyans Tomb. This incredibly impressive (awesome in the true sense of the word) was the inspiration for the later built Taj Mahal. Being ‘off-season’, we have had most of these attractions to ourselves. Next were the cremation sites of the major players in India’s history, starting with Ghandi and Nerhu in a beautiful green park. After a drive up to the very colonial presidential palace (past all the shining white ‘Ambassador’ cars which are still diplomatic vehicles) and quick view of India Gate and the administrative district we took lunch before getting back on with the tour.</p>
<p>In the afternoon we visited Qutub Minar, a massive Hindu-Muslim co-operation in the form of a huge tower that is nearly 1000 years old and set in amongst various other ruins from the time of the Afghan occupation. Finally we were taken around the obligatory Indian export bazaar, but after taking the free drinks and deciding there was nothing we wanted, we ended back at the hotel.</p>
<p>This morning was an early start for the six hour drive out to Pushkar. This holy town is home to the largest camel fair in the world (5000 camels descend upon the town in November to be traded) as well as the only Hindu temple in the world dedicated to Lord Brahma. Our hotel has more than exceeded expectations we have a pool, and what's more, it’s a pool with a bar in it (shame the town is dry and vegetarian due to the religious significance).</p>
<p>We took an afternoon walk around the holy lake edge and received a ritual (expensive) blessing from a holy man. We were warned about this in Lonely Planet, but they really don’t give you much option to refuse. After a little bit of shopping we’re now back at the hotel and contending with power blackouts every five minutes.</p>
<p>This is not a bother to me as the food here (in India) is exquisite and it’s dinner time. I really am loving it all.</p>
Back In Delhi2007-05-07T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/back-in-delhi/<p>It’s taken the best part of two days including another 6 hour journey on the top of a bus, a (wet) border crossing, another four hour bus journey to Gorukpur and then a 20 hour ‘sleeper’ train journey to New Delhi getting here at 5pm today.</p>
<p>We start a tour of ‘the golden triangle’ tomorrow – Delhi, Pushka, Jaipur and Agra before coming back to Delhi. This time around looks like it will be a little more settled than my first visit three weeks ago, although we had some problems with the train tickets yesterday; things seem to be going a little smoother now.</p>
<p>Onwards…</p>
Paragliding and the rest...2007-05-05T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/paragliding-and-the-rest/<p>Because Sam was not feeling up to scratch yesterday, I went off around noon to visit the Peace Pagoda (1100m) and Damside on foot. The walk is a few km, and I accidentally acquired a guide very quickly who took me to the top and back down, fending off cows, leeches and snakes en route. By the time I got back down to the bottom I chose the more relaxing boat trip across Phewa Tal to Lakeside where we are staying. By this time Sam had recovered so we went to watch “Into Thin Air” while food was served.</p>
<p>This morning was our last proper one in Pokhara, so we spent it in style, paragliding over Sarangkot and the town. An absolutely fantastic experience, I managed to get some very decent photos (which will be uploaded soon, hopefully).</p>
<p>Following in the same “extreme sports” vein, we took a taxi to the local bat caves and after hiring another guide, found that the whole thing was unlit, uneven, and untouched. The Rough Guide says you can climb out through a small opening if you feel adventurous enough, and so we did. Covered in dust and bat droppings, we moved onto the next destination – the Gourkha (Gurkha) museum. An impressive collection of uniforms and stories kept us busy for another couple of hours before heading back to lakeside via a Tibetan monastery and Devi’s Falls.</p>
<p>Named after a tourist who fell to her death there in 1992, Devi’s falls drops 100m underground and all you can see from the surface is a thin canyon carved in the soft rock. While trying to retrieve the body a large number of caves were found underneath and a shrine has been established. The whole thing floods during monsoon which is about 2 weeks away, so we were here at the right time.</p>
<p>Because of a technical problem with Royal Nepal Airlines we have had to take the bus then train to Delhi where we are taking a brief tour of North India. With temperatures around 47/48 degrees celsius, this may be an interesting week…</p>
Pokhara2007-05-04T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/pokhara/<p>Yesterday was a lazy day. Pokhara is laid back, clean and quiet and we had planned to have a late start then go off for a row around Phewa Tal, Nepal’s second largest lake; but we ended up spending most of the day trying to arrange the week we have in India, so the lake has been put on hold.</p>
<p>This morning we got up at 4am to watch sunrise in Sangakot, but when we got up we discovered firstly that our taxi driver hadn’t turned up, and secondly that the weather was bad so there wouldn’t be much view of the Annapurnas anyway. We went back to sleep for a few hours. Unfortunately in another bad twist of fate, Sam appears to have acquired some bug overnight (it happens from time to time due to westerner’s non-resistances) and so we’re waiting to see whether our original plans for today go ahead.</p>
<p>Today can only get better…</p>
Pokhara via Chitwan2007-05-02T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/pokhara-via-chitwan/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/287.jpg" alt="Sunset over the jungle in Chitwan." width="480" height="320" />
<p>After a six hour roof-rack drive (on the top of a bus with the luggage – it’s the only way to travel) we arrived in Pokhara this morning. The past four days have been spent at Hotel Parkside at the Royal Chitwan National Park after a final farewell to the other VSNers (the orphange folks Sam works with including a slap up pizza meal at Roadhouse in Kathmandu).</p>
<p>A total change of scene from Thamel, Chitwan is safari land and several degrees hotter. Tropical rainforest, elephants, rhinos, bengal tigers etc etc</p>
<p>We (Jen, Sam and myself) met up with Kiwis: Kiri, Dave and Sharon for the six hour bus journey through the mountains. The schedule was pretty jam-packed for a four day trip and in the afternoon we immediately went off on a tour of the local village and elephant patrol houses. After substantial amounts of food in the thatched restaurant platform of the hotel were jeeped to a ‘cultural evening’ put on by the locals. Despite my initial reservations about these types of events it was very impressive and the compere certainly made the “presentation of the presentation” very presentable.</p>
<p>The next day was an early rise for an early morning dugout canoe trip down river and a jungle safari on foot. Unfortunately we didn’t spot much apart from small or stationary things like bugs and beehives, but it gave us an opportunity to dazzle the guides with a mid-safari human pyramid display.</p>
<p>After more food (and of course, with seconds) we all got onboard elephants for a higher and more unstable safari where we finally managed to spot some larger wildlife including our first rhino. We got back just in time to order some cocktails and watch the sun go down over the river.</p>
<p>The next morning was a slightly later start, but we made our way over to the elephant breeding centre and spent an hour or so trying to feed cookies to the baby elephants. We were then jeeped over the river to sit on the bank for a couple of hours until the highlight of the four days for me, elephant washing and bathing. These huge animals are incredibly gentle and are more than happy to wash you too. Really good fun. In the evening we took a jeep safari to the 20,000 lakes for sunset where we saw deer, rhinos and macaque monkeys, but alas no tigers or leopards. </p>
<p>Despite not being lucky enough to spot one of the rarer animnals, the whole time was really entertaining and the staff at Parkside were particularly good making the whole thing very relaxing and smooth and we (very) attentive.</p>
<p>We’ve now arrived in Pokhara, another popular destination and starting point for trekking in the Annapurnas. The views are spectacular. We also ran into a few more <span class="caps">VSN</span> guys who spotted Sam, Jen and myself on the front page of a Nepali language paper this morning, bathing the elephants in Chitwan. Apparently the story is to do with tourism being on the up. We have already demanded a reduced celebrity rate at the hotel and are trying to sell signed copies.</p>
Back In Nepal2007-04-28T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/back-in-nepal/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/286.jpg" alt="Mount Everest from the Sky." width="480" height="320" />
<p>Last night was the finishing party in Lhasa. Guy, our resident Buddhist Israeli and all around character had booked out the top floor of somerestaurant in the old town. The afternoon before was spent walking around the Jokhang and exploring the markets stalls of the eager vendors before taking a long sit and reminisce in the little coffee shop until 8.30pm.</p>
<p>About thirty five of the forty five on the tour turned up and there was drinking and dancing and cards (playing some ridiculous rules) which went on until the early hours of the morning. There was plenty of fun.</p>
<p>Unfortunately there were two upsets on the last day – one being that Sonya lost her entire travel documents and monies in the back of a cab and Nicholas was mugged (although not hurt) near the Potala.</p>
<p>This morning was a 5.30 start again, this time a trip to the airport. The flight takes you back to Kathmandu over the lofty peaks of the Himalaya and very close to Everest so you can have a good look.</p>
<p>Despite asking the lady at check-in for a seat on the right hand side of the plane with a window, she put me on bog-duty and so sat on the last seat of the plane in the aisle. Brilliant.</p>
<p>It didn’t matter in the end as no one else sat next to me so I shifted over to the window seat and as Matt had the same setup the other side I was able to get a good view of the mountains as we passed.</p>
<p>I also managed to get a Chinese (Tibetan) stamp in my passport (they don’t usually do this).</p>
<p>At the far end, I was able to whistle through customs, but everyone else got held up due to the visa regulations and it took about an hour and a half to get sorted fully before catching a (free) taxi back to the Potala Guesthouse in Thamel.</p>
<p>Tomorrow we go to Chitwan national park for safaris and the like.</p>
<p>I am so fed up of Yak with everything.</p>
Seven Days In Tibet2007-04-27T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/seven-days-in-tibet/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/285.jpg" alt="Outside the Potala, Lhasa." width="480" height="320" />
<p>I’m in a cafe that resembles a Starbucks – an unusual find in Tibet which is mostly full of noodle houses and yak butter tea cafes.</p>
<p>Lhasa is very Chinese in look and feel, and after writing the last entry we headed over the road for some noodles. We were starving, and so went into the first place we found which was an unusually posh and large Chinese restaurant. The four of us herded ourselves over to a table in the vast eating room and quickly noticed we were the only people in there, except for the staff. And there were a hell of a lot of staff.</p>
<p>The far wall was a glass construction allowing us to view directly what the 15 chefs were up to. 15 chefs all washing down the huge panes and stainless steel surfaces until they all stopped to watch the strange group of foreigners sit down and ask for the menu.</p>
<p>It soon became apparent that none of the 10 waiting staff could speak any english, and even when they wheeled out a reluctant girl from the back, the best we could get was a string of apologies, “Sorry, so sorry.”</p>
<p>It became even more difficult when we started to try to explain what we wanted. The number of staff had now increased further, all wanting a look at their new patrons, but as equally as confused as to what was meant to be going on. Our food descriptions (four chow mein) didn’t seem to work, and we nearly resorted to drawing things before they whisked the menus away, claiming they now knew what we wanted.</p>
<p>Three minutes later a waiter re-appeared and summoned me into the glass-fronted kitchen. Clearly the kitchen staff were even more amazed when I entered, where I discovered another pocket of four or five waiters who were just sitting and talking. I was shown a washed and peeled potato, and although my knowledge of Chinese cuisine is not the greatest, I assumed they hadn’t understood the noodle request. I said “chips”, they said “yes”, I said “no; four chow mein”, they said “ah, ok, sorry, sorry”, and back I went.</p>
<p>And amongst a whole lot of laughter and misunderstanding, the 14 chefs produced four small bowls of noodles.</p>
<p>The next day we visited the Potala. Despite forgetting our passports, they let us in for a 1 hour express tour of the Dalai Lama’s former residence. Poor weather made it a bit drab, but after visiting the Sera monastery (the monks who discovered the Dalai Lama) we went back to take photos in the square when the clouds had cleared and there was a clear view of the mountains.</p>
<p>This morning was a similar start, this time off to the Dreupang Monastary, one of largest in Tibet. Once home to 7,700 monks, it now has just 700. After some sightseeing, photos and souvenir shopping we were taken back to the old town.</p>
<p>This afternoon is the last here in Tibet. There is loads to write up in full at a later time, but that will have to wait until I am back in Kathmandu tomorrow.</p>
Tibet, Day 42007-04-24T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/tibet-day-4/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/282.jpg" alt="The asian squirrel in our room." />
<p>Surprisingly, internet cafes don’t appear that hard to some by in the larger towns in Tibet so it has been easier to type up than I expected, although they don’t seem to be able to, or won’t allow, the upload of photos here.</p>
<p>Last night we stayed in relative luxury in beds with mattresses and lighting. Matt and I shared a room – and we were both woken with a start at 4am when something very loud fell to the floor.</p>
<p>After not being able to establish what it was, we went back to bed. In the morning I found some nasty yellow muck on the desk in the room and outside the bathroom door. Five minutes later and we were investigating the top of the twitching curtains. A quick peek revealed a very frightened ferret-looking creature who shot down the window, across the floor and let out a deafening squeal before going back again.</p>
<p>Matt soon discovered that it had made it’s way through a large part of the huge carrier bag full of unshelled peanuts he had left on the desk. Eventually we coaxed it out of the window.</p>
<p>After a basic breakfast (egg, bread and jam as always) we took the trucks to Gyantse via a small water-powered tsampa mill (tsampa being a barley dough, edible with any liquid, but mostly drunk with yak butter tea).</p>
<p>Another hotel tonight, the hot water is turned on at 6pm, so we’re all waiting for the first warm shower this week.</p>
<p>The weather turned this afternoon, but it cleared quickly. We walked around the local monastery and stuupa before taking a taxi-trike up to the old fort for the highest view for miles around.</p>
<p>Tomorrow we go to Lhasa, the capital.</p>
<p>(Also, happy belated birthday for yesterday Dad. I had problems posting the message yesterday and I didn’t actually realise it was showing up.)</p>
In Lhasa2007-04-24T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-lhasa/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/284.jpg" alt="In the Tibetan mountains." width="480" height="320" />
<p>Tibet’s capital city, Lhasa is actually one of the lowest points we have been for the past few days.</p>
<p>Like everywhere in Tibet, there is a strong Chinese influence in the architecture, but more-so here than out in the country and up on the plateau from where we have come from.</p>
<p>Last night we found a great place for Yak burgers before turning in early at our nice, but very cold hotel. This morning we had to be leaving by 7am to get on the road up to the lakes and after our driver finally turned up (half an hour late) the convoy of 11 land cruisers moved off.</p>
<p>It was more beautiful snow-capped mountain scenery, and after some initial cloud and snow, the skies cleared and we stopped at several lakes and viewpoints along the eight-hour journey to the capital.</p>
<p>The driver was passing out tsampa barley the whole journey (to eat like popcorn), and making the most of his newest toy. Our driver has pretty much pimped out the jeep to look like a police car – we have blue and red flashing lights on the bull-bars and his newest addition – a siren and PA through the horn to make announcements to fellow drivers. We probably have the coolest driver.</p>
<p>The hotel tonight has <del>warm</del> <ins>hot</ins> water and so I managed to get a bath in – the first wash in three days. Some of the girls have been going spare (not from our group though – we don’t grumble as much as some people). Each move makes the group anticipate the next set of a facilities, as so far standards have been very basic. Getting out of bed at 2am in sub-5-degree temperatures, treading on icy floors and to go and relieve yourself outside makes you learn how to hold it in for a few hours longer.</p>
<p>Headaches from altitude are all but gone and we’re going to the Potala tomorrow.</p>
In Tibet2007-04-23T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-tibet/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/280.jpg" alt="In Tibet." width="480" height="320" />
<p>So here I am, about 5000m above sea level and on the ‘rooftop of the world’.</p>
<p>We set of early Saturday morning at 5.30am, taking the long drive back out towards Last Resort where we had rafted the day before.</p>
<p>After a brief stop when the other bus managed to get a puncture, we made it to the Tibetan border, the ‘friendship bridge’ and got our passports checked and temperatures measured (<span class="caps">SARS</span> is still a concern) before being herded into Toyota Land Crusiers to take the hazardous mountain pass and start gaining real altitude (ours houses Jen, Matt, Sam and myself with a driver who speaks no English and only has one cassette which happens to be particularly awful Chinese techno music).</p>
<p>By this time the clear weather had faded and it was really bucketing it down. In one of the breaks at customs we made our way into a small kitchen and all ordered large bowls of noodles until the convoy was ready to move off.</p>
<p>Immediately the change of country is noticeable. The first thing is the language – no one out of the fifty of us here speaks any Manderin, and certainly not any Tibetan, so meal times are often complicated as simple gesturing seems to confuse more than compound.</p>
<p>We arrived in Nagalam late evening, by which time it was freezing cold. Tibet really is basic; the charpies (asian toilets) are no more than a hole over a pit, and there is no warm water or heating. Thick Yak blankets are very effective though, but didn’t do much to calm the <span class="caps">AMS</span> (acute mountain sickness), which gives you a bad headache, make your drowsy or dizzy and affect breathing.</p>
<p>Paracetamol is staple of our diet at the moment.</p>
<p>Still, the views are stunning. We rose early yesterday to see the huge snow-capped mountains and a clear blue sky above us, perfect weather for seeing the Himalaya. We bundled back into the 4×4s and made our way several hundred km across the vast plateaus and over the passes stopping for photographs and food.</p>
<p>Our final travel stop was at a small restaurant (in the most basic sense of the word) overlooking Mt Everest. It’s hard to put across how spectacular the views are generally, and as soon as I get to a place where they allow you to plug in your camera, I’ll put some photos up.</p>
<p>Last night we stayed in dormitories again – primitive once more, but we got to hustle some street-pool with the local kids which was enjoyable.</p>
<p>Today we have arrived in Xingtze (?) where we are now have showers and western toilets. One of the vehicles rolled off the road this morning; thankfully no one was hurt, but it did bring about how desolate this place is and it was good we were all still close together as the distance between seeing people and their Yaks is vast.</p>
<p>We have picked up a few Tibetan phrases. Hello is ‘Tashi Delli’ while our driver told us dog is ‘key’, goat is ‘ra’, cat is ‘shimmi’ and yak is ‘ya’. We are becoming pros.</p>
<p>This afternoon we explored the local monastery, the traditional seat of the Panchen Lama. We then browsed the local area, shared some card tricks and generally did non-energetic things to avoid bringing on the <span class="caps">AMS</span> any heavier.</p>
<p>More to follow…</p>
Rafting At Last Resort2007-04-20T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/rafting-at-last-resort/<p>An early start this morning wasn’t complimented by a bumpy ride up to Last Resort, a point 12 miles from the Tibetan border. Unfortunately we have to repeat the journey first thing tomorrow.</p>
<p>That said, Sam, Iwan, Anna, other Sam and myself had a fantastic time whitewater rafting down the rapids for three hours. More exciting than my first and only other attempt at this sport in the Rockies, I know feel utterly exhausted.</p>
<p>No help that we have to be outside the travel agents at 5.30am in the morning for the bus to Tibet.</p>
Orphanages, Birthdays and The Country2007-04-19T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/orphanages-birthdays-and-the-country/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/279.jpg" alt="At the orphanage in Nepaltaar." width="480" height="517" />
<p>Last night I discovered I had a cut on my head. That can be explained by walking into that low doorframe in Bhaktapur yesterday.</p>
<p>This morning we got up at 8am to catch the local bus to the orphanage outside of Kathmandu. The area is a lot more rural than where we are staying in the city (although more developed than some of the area around Nagakot).</p>
<p>First stop was Sam’s old host family. Their youngest, Krris, turned three today so we had picked up a cake en route and stashed it in the fridge before heading over to Jen’s host family for my first experience at true Nepalese home cooking.</p>
<p>Dahl Baht is eaten from a metal plate and using your right hand as a shovel and your thumb as a push-to-mouth. The dahl is a yellow curry mix, which you pour over the baht (the rice and a selection of curried vegetables and nuts). Despite struggling to each much the past few days, I managed the whole portion (just as well; leaving food is considered very disrespectful).</p>
<p>After breakfast we went to the orphanage, a short walk away. Most of the kids were at school, so Jen, Sam and myself went for a walk up into the hills for views of the villages and fields from above.</p>
<p>When we arrived back we met the kids up on the field ready for a short talent show organised by one of the other volunteers. There was singing, dancing, display of paintwork (one kid, Albin was particularly good and we are planning on taking him to visit the artist we met yesterday), acting and other entertainments before it descended into general playtime for the rest of the afternoon.</p>
<p>Dealing with 45 kids is a challenging job, and as their supplies are strictly limited and their expectations must not be raised for various reasons, we have to strict rules regarding handing out presents/sweets and what we can say to them – although they are more than willing to play, fight and take photos on your camera.</p>
<p>I could talk at length about these children who were all very curious, raucous, playful and funny, but I can hardly remember any of their names (they all look alike apart from their t-shirts) and the conditions they live in. Although good by Nepali standards, the state of the building is nowhere near what you might expect in a western children’s home, and health and safety is not even heard of. I plan on writing something a bit more comprehensive about this at a later date as it was a very cool experience.</p>
<p>We went back to Sam’s host family for an evening meal (this time with spoons and everything!), and being a birthday they had laid on a special selection of chicken, pickles and pilau rice (as opposed to the usual twice-a-day, mono-thematic dahl baht).</p>
<p>We danced for an hour in the living room to some of the latest Hindi dance tracks (twin girls, two older sisters, the hyperactive Krris, a older brother, another couple of visiting boys, Rob, Jen, Sam and myself made the whole place a little packed) before sharing out the cake (which had a strong taste of nail polish remover for some reason).</p>
<p>Sam had to make her goodbyes before we left to catch a taxi back to Themal. There was one final issue of taking out the huge cockroach crawling around the bathroom, but once that was sorted we went back to the art shop at 9pm to pick up the work that had been done overnight.</p>
<p>A busy day. Tomorrow we go rafting, then on Saturday, Tibet. I’m unsure what internet access will be like for the next 8 days.</p>
Back In Thamel2007-04-18T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/back-in-thamel/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/278.jpg" alt="Holy man and lady after the festival." width="480" height="433" />
<p>After food last night Sam went back to the hotel while I prowled around central Bhaktapur taking some night shots around the city. It gave me a chance to climb the tallest temple (not just in Kathmandu Valley, but in the whole of Nepal).</p>
<p>This morning we went for breakfast at the same cafe overlooking the square before making our way over to the national galleries. For the small charge of 20 Rupees (small even by Nepali standards) we were able to view the woodworking, brass and art galleries. The first two were pretty insignificant – most things were labelled 20th century with no description in very dimly lit alcoves and glass cases on the top floor of an old Newari-style building. The art gallery was considerably better, but was lacking in power, so with just a mini-maglite torch for light the guards let us wander around the darkened corridors and rooms of mostly religious paintings.</p>
<p>We came back to the hotel to checkout, but were distracted by an art shop and then the final stages of the chariot pulling which has been going on for five days now. After an almighty tug, something came loose and the whole monster vehicle overwhelmed the people trying to pull it along and it shot out of view in the opposite direction. </p>
<p>We decided we really had to make a move, and we didn’t particularly fancy staying around for the final part of the festival which involves hurling rocks. There were no fatalities last year, but the year before three people were eliminated by this rather dangerous tradition.</p>
<p>We caught a local bus back to Thamel and spent the afternoon shopping for bargains and sorting out the next few days activities. We also made a visit to the artist who painted some of the work which we saw earlier in Bhaktapur. He was incredibly friendly and we stayed for chia until heading back to the markets to sort out the last of the pre-Tibet purchases.</p>
<p>Tomorrow we head out to Nepaltaar and Gabisar to visit Sam’s host family and then the orphanage.</p>
Still In Bhaktapur2007-04-16T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/still-in-bhaktapur/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/277.jpg" alt="Looking over Bhaktapur." />
<p>This morning we were awoken by the bells of the temple next door to our hotel at 3am. I managed to sleep ok, but Sam had been feeling ill since yesterday (I’ve already been through that once) and so we had a light breakfast overlooking one of the city squares.</p>
<p>We made our way through the streets; similarly packed to Thamel, but just with people as the use of cars and motorbikes is either not permitted, or just not a regular occurrence.</p>
<p>Visits included a paper factory, a wood carving shop, a famous carving of a peacock, a number of temples, palaces and important gateways and a Thanka art school. Thanka is the name of the Nepalese art form which reproduces with incredible detail, illustrations of Buddhist importance. This includes Buddah’s life story and the mandalas. Each piece can take up to 14 months to complete and the highest quality pieces are completed by Lamas themselves.</p>
<p>We were able to see a number of the painters at work, who recreate each scene with a single haired brush to build up perfect gradients and apply fine lines of molten gold leaf using the same type of brush.</p>
<p>In the afternoon Sam went back to rest and I stayed up in the cafe where we had had breakfast just watching the markets and processions of drum and pipe bands pass through (happening all today as part of the festival). Afterwards I went to explore some more of the streets with my camera before the rain brought me back to the hotel where I watched the celebrations from the balcony of our room.</p>
<p>I’m currently working my way through “Tears of Blood” which I have been leant and tells the struggle of the Tibetan people over the past fifty years. Unfortunately it is incredibly biased and in it’s own words “makes no apology for it,” but it is giving me some insight before I get there.</p>
<p>Tomorrow we head back to Kathmandu.</p>
In Bhaktapur2007-04-16T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-bhaktapur/<p>Day five finds me and Sam in Bhaktapur, a small ancient town outside of Kathmandu city but still in the Katmandu valley.</p>
<p>The past couple of days have been pretty fantastic. After my last entry we went to explore Durbar Square (Durbar means Palace in Nepalese) which involved exploring the overcrowded back streets of Kathmandu.</p>
<p>The thoroughfares through the city are fairly narrow and extremely packed with both people and traffic. The horn system works here too, and it’s common for bikes and taxis to brush you/each other as they pass, where back home they would grind to a halt.</p>
<p>En route to the square we stopped at several temples and other points of interest, including a tailors shop where some of the girls picked up their orders. As ever, we were provided with Chia (tea) while we waited.</p>
<p>At the square itself we took a tour guide who was able to shed light on a lot of the symbolism and history of the religions and buildings. Religion here is Nepalese Buddhism/Hinduism which is strangely entwined and their history is still in the making, with the murder of the royal family just a few years ago which has left the monarchy suspended and the government an ‘interim’ power.</p>
<p>One of the main attractions of the square is the Kumari, a young girl who is revered as a god-descendant of Buddah and has to posses a number of particular qualities before she is chosen over the other candidates every eight or so years (in a similar process to the selection of the Dalai Lama in Tibet). She makes appearances once a day at 4pm, but we were unfortunate to discover that she will only appear if you make a donation, which we were a bit disappointed about.</p>
<p>One of the other important things about this area is nearby Freak Street. In the sixties, Nepal became infested by a western hippy population who came over “in suits, tried the marajuana, went back to their hotels, took off their suits and never went back,” in the words of the guide. The hindu holy men who wear dreads, bright orange clothes and face paints became to be worshipped as gods by the new hippies, and as a result many fake holy men now wander the temples handing out flowers and trying to get money for having a photo with them. </p>
<p>In the evening Sam, Jen and myself went to watch a Hindi movie. Shackalackaboomboom is mostly spoken in Hindi, bar a few lines, which made the plot somewhat thicker, but it was very entertaining, even if using your phone in the cinema is compulsory (and not minded at all by the locals).</p>
<p>On the way back (in the dark), Jen mistook a sewage filled drain on the side of the road for hard paving and ended up knee deep in excrement. Not particularly pleasant, but apparently not a too-rare an experience. We also had to pass massive New Year celebrations in the street which involved large numbers of excited Nepalese jumping up and down in front of a stage erected on the road leading to the palace.</p>
<p>In the evening we went for food at local restaurant OR2A (?) with a few of the other volunteers and ended the night drinking chia with Andi at Organic, a fantastic upstairs cafe overlooking the streets in Thamel.</p>
<p>The next morning Sam, Anna, Jen and myself all went off to the 6.30am mediation and yoga session at a local Buddhist guesthouse. My first attempt at both left my legs dead, but it was a worthwhile experience at improving my state of mind. Afterwards we watched a video on the exile of the Dalai Lama (who’s laugh reminds me of Doctor Hibbert’s from The Simpsons).</p>
<p>We got back to the hotel and met our taxi driver for the day who drove us to Nagakot (via a number of temples and Thimmi, where a famous New Years celebration occurs). We also had the strange and somewhat eye-opening visit to the main Kathmandu cremation site (Pashupatinath) and watched a number of cremations along the river as well as visiting a home for the elderly that had been setup by Mother Teresa.</p>
<p>After visiting Bodhnath Stupa, we finally arrived at the Hotel At The End of The Universe and I managed to get a first full nights sleep after dealing with a large number of flies and a huge spider. We had hoped to make sunrise the net morning, but unfortunately it was overcast so just settled by going back to bed.</p>
<p>After waking again we walked the mountain paths down to Bhaktapur. We were accompanied by a stray dog for the whole three hour walk who we named Nips and then caught the local bus down the town itself.</p>
<p>We got just to the edge of the city when it started to rain. An old man invited us in from under shelter we were in, but we refused only being minutes away from our accommodation, but after a minute the rainfall became so heavy it poured through the structure we were under and he insisted – guiding through what had almost instantly become 5 inches worth of water flowing down the street.</p>
<p>We sheltered on the top floor in not much more than a dark room with a potters wheel and the rest of his family who (like all Nepalese) were more than willing to talk and entertain us until the rain passed.</p>
<p>I’d like to have written more about all this, but the internet cafe is about close. Since we arrived tonight we have also watched a torchlit parade and the huge chariot being heaved through the streets, both to do with the Bisket Jatra festival which goes on for another two days.</p>
Happy 20642007-04-14T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/happy-2064/<p>By shear coincidence, it appears I arrived in Nepal on New Year’s Eve, which is 57 years ahead of western dates. Sammi met me at the airport after some lengthly customs-form filling in, and we took a taxi to Tamal where out hotel is located.</p>
<p>First thing to sort out was what we’re doing for the next few days. Sam has nailed down a fairly comprehensive itinerary already which is really good as it brings together all the good and bad stories of the other people out here and means we should get to pass on the not so good and make sure we get to see the better stuff. The travel agents here are really friendly and offered us tea (not exactly Going Places) and we sat for an hour talking about where we’ll end up and the Gurhkas (San, one of the travel agents had tried for the regiments).</p>
<p>Most of the volunteers who work in the orphanages surrounding Kathmandu meet up once a week on a Friday at the place we are staying (which is fairly touristy district). It meant that last night we all met up on the roof terrace where I got to meet all the other guys before we went off for food, live music and then finally, and totally unexpectedly – a new years mini-rave in the back of some little bar called Funky Buddah.</p>
<p>There was a powercut (as always) but they soon got the sound system back up and running.</p>
<p>This morning we had breakfast at a little cafe called Organic and it was interesting to check out ‘morning cuisine’ (buckwheat toast). The language here is pretty straight forward for basic phrases and most people have got a enough of a grip to make talking to the locals a little easier – especially when it comes to bargaining.</p>
<p>There have been one or two ‘horror’ stories shared about experiences out here, but it’s more to do with the plight of the locals at the hands of the different factions. Everyone here in Kathmandu seem very friendly and the street kids have a good temperament are also quite amusing and willing to walk with us down the streets. </p>
<p>Apparently last night was particularly busy, in the past two weeks things have got crowded (compared to in Fenruary apparently, when it was dead) so we’re off to explore some of the areas outside of the city.</p>
<p>It’s a bit of a welcome relief from the hectic and non-relenting Delhi. Obdul, a guy I met just before I left the hotel in India was not very complementary about the local area but said that if I found my back there he would make sure I get a better deal on a hotel and see that everything is taken care of. Even if I didn’t care for Delhi particularly, the people are at least fairly friendly although the level of poverty appears much higher than here in central Nepal.</p>
<p>Today we’re going on a walk to the city square to see the New Year celebrations. It’s really very nice here.</p>
In Delhi2007-04-13T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-delhi/<p>So the last time I tried to write something was at about 1am last night. I got to the end of the first sentence and ‘pop’ – no more lights. It wasn’t entirely a surprise – Delhi appears to have been wired following a map made by a spider with inky feet.</p>
<p>The flights were fine, in fact good. Despite a rush at Heathrow due to the airline employees not turning up at work early enough, we managed to make our plane and got going with only a minor delay.</p> <p>Big thanks must be sent to John who managed to co-ordinate my whole evening before I left and also has lent me his Peter Cook book for the duration.</p> <p>Once in Delhi we took a ride in the back of a taxi to the hotel. I met a guy called Rich who is planning on spending 6 months out here and as he already had accommodation and I was planning on kipping in the airport but he allowed me to get in on his pre-booked hotel.</p> <p>The room is very clean and after leaving the air con on, quite cool. That is, cool compared to the 32 celcius outside at 11pm last night.</p>
<p>Driving here is another ‘knowledge’ system. Everyone has the knowledge that you can drive on any part of the road, or anywhere around the road. Signalling is is for wusses and the horn is the best method to let you know no one is going quick enough. Expect overtaking on both sides, and make sure all passengers are out of the car before attempting to refuel. I am still not sure which side of the road the Indians drive on. Thrilling to say the least.</p>
<p>The hotel have booked me a cab back to the airport in half an hour and then I fly to meet Sammi in Kathmandu (Nepal). It’s going well if not particularly predictable so far…</p>
Getting A Visa2007-02-20T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/getting-a-visa/<div class="vcard"><p class="adr">If you are looking for a little slice of India in <span class="region">Birmingham</span>, I can tell you when to look. <span class="extended-address">1st Floor</span>, <span class="street-address">20 Augusta <abbr title="">St.</abbr></span>, <span class="locality">Jewellery <abbr title="Quarter">Qtr.</abbr></span>.</p><p>The place I am referring to is the <span class="fn org">Consulate General of India</span>, a building that provides a gulf of a dichotomy; between what it sounds like it should be, and what it actually is.</p>
</div>
<p>Being that I’m travelling in just over six weeks, I decided that getting my visa sorted is a pretty high priority. The Consulate website is fairly thorough, but you can’t ask those little niggling questions, and all my attempts on the phone have failed to yield a answer, I mean, no one ever picks up. It gave the impression of being a one-person show, not too dissimilar to the Thai Embassy near New Street.</p>
<p>How wrong I was. I arrived at about 11am, and quickly located the rather sparse ground floor of the Consulate. From the outside it’s a small, ex-industrial office and the large empty ground floor gave the impression that even this was too big for the task. I was directed up a small stairwell and at this point was surprised to find myself pushing my way up an ever-thicker channel of people. At the top of the stairs is a short corridor leading up to an airport-style body scanner (which was making a lot of noise as people passed in and out, but no one seems to be bothered). On the other side of the scanner must have been 200 to 300 people bunched outside the four tiny post office windows, and the one man who appeared to be directing the crowds wasn’t having much success in forming the hordes into an orderly queue.</p>
<p>Had he not have been making a beeline for the door as I came in, I wouldn’t have heard him tell me that there were no more visas to be issued today. They’d met their daily quota. I’m quite glad I didn’t have to queue for two hours to find that out.</p>
<p>The closest thing it equates to from memory was a coach station in Malaysia. Chaotic, and exciting. If my departure was less than four weeks away, I would be seriously worried by now, especially at the prospect of having to secure my visa queue number by arriving <em>“between 6.30 and 7.30am”</em> and not mid-morning as I have discovered. Thankfully they run a 4-week postal application. I think I’ll be taking that option.</p>
Nepal, Tibet & India2007-01-20T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/nepal-tibet-and-india/<p>And I’ve booked it. I’m going to be flying from here to Milan, Milan to Delhi, Delhi to Kathmandu, and then return from Delhi a month later. Cracking, although I think my bank might be wondering what hit them. Actually the price wasn’t too bad, probably between £100 and £150 cheaper than I might have guessed so I’m quite pleased.</p>
<p>Despite clearing this up, my list of things to do is not shrinking and despite my best attempt to fall asleep last night, I didn’t actually nod off until about 4am, so it’s likely that I will be feeling rubbish by sometime mid afternoon.</p>
<p>This week holds all the excitement of being that time of year when my contract expires and I have the intense pleasure of looking at all the sparkly new handsets. This isn’t going to be an expensive exercise though, not if I can help it. I’m quite prepared to dodge networks in order to get the best deal and I don’t particularly want to be spending more than I already am already; I’m saving any extra pennies for my trip to patch up some of the damage Jade Goody has done to international relations.</p>
Poor Old Skip2006-07-10T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/poor-old-skip/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/188.jpg" alt="" />
<p>Unfortunately, somewhere in Australia, there is a small boy trapped down a old mine shaft that will never get rescued. That is because I ate Skippy for dinner last night. Kangaroo tastes a bit like beef; we ate out at some place that was billed as authentic outback Australia, but in fact was upmarket resort-ville where the <em>nouveau riche</em> spend their pennies. Still fantastic though.</p>
<p>We stayed in a fairly expensive campsite last night; the first warm shower in a tiled bathroom in nearly a week made a welcome relief from the usual cold water outhouses, and we rounded off the night drinking the beer that James had originally claimed was 'really good' when we had bought it. It had sat untouched in the back of Eric for three days after we initially tried it.</p>
<p>So this morning was the move to the airport. We stumbled across it by accident, one hour earlier than anticipated, so there was just enough time for photos before saying farewells and me climbing on a plane, leaving the other two to their own devices. Heather heads over here (to Singapore) tomorrow, but despite the initial plan, I will already have departed. I have been making the most of the airport pool as apparently no one else knows about it. There were 25 lockers in the changing room, and I was the only one in there. My top tip for Singapore connections; ask where the pool is... it's tucked so well away you'll have it and the bar to yourself.</p>
<p>I arrive back at Heathrow at 5.30am tomorrow. I can see jet lag will be much fun to contend with, and so am planning on making the most of flying BA/Qantas, using up the free alcohol they are so willing to provide you with. Much nicer than flying EasyJet, although I can't understand why the films on planes are either ones I've seen, or one I don't want to see. The in-flight guides always promise so much more, but I end up watching Ice Age 2 (again) or a story about some bloke and his huskies. Nice one.</p>
<p>I've got 5 CDs worth of photos. The gallery is going to be a bit huge.</p>
In Cairns2006-07-09T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-cairns/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/100.jpg" alt="" />
<p>So, this is it. The final full day of life in Australia for the time being. I'm sure I will be back here soon; there is far too much surfing to be done, and I still want to dive the GBR, so they haven't seen the last of me here.</p>
<p>Yesterday we took another early bus over to the cruise terminal and caught the boat to Hamilton Island. This large island resort is the biggest in the Pacific, and the only way to get around is by the golf buggies. The island has some stunning beaches and there was plenty of time to check out most of the island roads in the two hours we had before having a <acronym title="Barbecue">BBQ</acronym> back on the boat and heading over to Whitehaven Beach. Whitehaven was voted Australia's best beach this year, and it's 6km of pure white silica sand squeaks underfoot. It's pretty impressive. We bathed, played ball and got buried before taking a sunset ride back to the mainland. A quick shower and we were back on the road in Eric, starting the final push to Cairns.</p>
<p>We stopped around 2am this morning to sleep in a free campsite (my usual night-time story provided), and woke at 9am to finish the journey into the town. We're currently doing a big CD swap of the five million photos we've taken between us. Tomorrow I fly; it's flown like no holiday I have ever taken before, and has (despite my preconceptions) left me with a really big thirst for more.</p>
Not Scuba Diving2006-07-07T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/not-scuba-diving/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/91.jpg" alt="" />
<p>Today was spent visiting one of the great natural wonders of this world, the Great Barrier Reef. An early start (warmer) took us to a bus which, in turn, took us to a boat for the two hour crossing to the reef. I'd booked in with James and Heather to do a scuba intro, something which I've been wanting to do for years, but was disappointed to discover that due to my asthma, they wouldn't let me dive. Apparently it doesn't mean I can't dive, just company policy doesn't permit it without a full medical, and as I hadn't had mine, it meant no dive. I was understandably irritated. Instead I booked myself onto a snorkelling tour, and then later a helicopter ride to see the reef from above, and the see reef's most photographed icon, The Heart.</p>
<p>Thankfully I wasn't disappointed. The boat moors up at a large platform which everyone disembarks onto and can get changed into the appropriate equipment for whatever they are doing. Activities included the three mentioned above, plus an underwater viewing gallery, sunbathing on an upper deck, and going for a trip in a semi-submersible (the posh way of saying a boat with a glass bottom, but we knew what they meant).</p>
<p>The weather was hot; clear skies for the most part and the boat journeys there and back were vomit-filled for many of the passengers. Thankfully this is the sea I like the best (the movable type) and while most people were reaching for the sickbags, I was soaking in the sun and salt air.</p>
<p>The snorkelling allowed fantastic access to the reef walls. Hundreds of fish and corals line the steep banks where we swam, and most of the fish are fairly friendly. You could drift through large shoals of brightly coloured things, some very inquisitive, some very small, some very large. There was a chance to hold starfish, coral and to watch clown fish amongst the reef. Although a bit cold in the water, it was worth every penny. I decided to compensate my lack of scuba with a helicopter ride, and after chatting with the pilot for a while, was able to get a reduced rate. The view was spectacular, and if I hadn't forgotten to bring my camera to the internet cafe, you'd be able to see for yourself.</p>
<p>The ride back was even more tempestuous, but I lapped it up. We arrived back at 5ish, went shopping and cooked bolognase on the fire. A good day, despite spilling coffee on myself, forgetting my sunglasses and the initial disappointment.</p>
Just Off The Whitsundays2006-07-06T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/just-off-the-whitsundays/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/86.jpg" alt="" />
<p>After arriving back from Fraser Island last night it was drivetime. Unfortunately one of the major downfalls of Eric (our van) is that he is not well powered and also struggles with radio stations. Heather's iPod is now dead, and ten hours of country music is too much for even the most strong willed traveller. We have spent the past 24hrs stoked on iced coffee; punctuated with cans of 'V' and energy foods. The drives have been pretty intensive; last night we clocked a good 700km before retiring in a petrol car park at 2am. We might have carried on if we hadn't been so short on fuel.</p>
<p>After waking (cold) again this morning, we were straight back on the road, heading up the Gold Coast over the Tropic of Capricorn and into barrier reef country. Fields and fields of sugar cane line the lone-laned highway that hems the coast, and good weather made the next 700km of driving easy. We arrived in Airlie Beach at around two this afternoon, and the over-helpful tourist office equipped us with an itinerary for the next two days. Tomorrow is our crash course scuba trip over the reef, and the next day will be spent at Australia's best beach (winner this year). Finally some 'chill with the still' time.</p>
Just off Fraser Island2006-07-05T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/just-off-fraser-island/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/75.jpg" alt="" />
<p>Just after we were thinking that we might have to pay for another night's accommodation in Brisbane, Andrew turned up on the scene and we spent the evening wallowing in his apartment with a few bottles of red wine. The next morning we were up and off to pick up our van, Eric. Eric has an interesting paint-job, not everyone in Brisbane drives around with the Beatles, Mick Jagger & Keith Richardson, Jimmy Hendrix, GW Bush, Dick Cheney, Osama Bin Laden, Ozzy Osbourne and some other bloke we can't work out plastered over their vehicle exterior. Photos will follow.</p>
<p>We headed out of town and up the coast to Hervey Bay, where we ate firstly in an Aldi car park, then in a car park by the beach, then after being moved by security, in a campsite this morning. A fast dash around the coastal regions this morning (chasing ferries, all departing for Fraser Island) finally meant we got onto a boat and made it onto a fast-track tour for the afternoon. The island is beautiful, made entirely of sand, the 90km+ beach plays host to a range of natural attractions, as well as serving as a highway for the island's traffic. After a swim in a rainwater lake we headed back to the mainland and are now getting ready for the second night's heavy driving up towards the Whitsundays. Time is now of the essence.</p>
In Brisbane2006-07-03T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-brisbane/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/124.jpg" alt="" />
<p>So the past few days have been spent searching for the best breaks on the Gold Coast. Okay, well maybe we're not that pro at surfing yet, but the day after the skydive/surf lesson we booked in for a second session of tuition, this time on Tallow(s) Beach, and it proved a little more successful than my first day. This was despite the hangover we managed to acquire while experiencing the bars of Byron Bay the night before. </p>
<p>After some really good Italian food at a place called Sea'n'Earth we took the advice of the people running the surf school and went for drinks at the Beach Hotel, where there was rugby league, Wimbledon and live music. </p>
<p>After a while we moved on to Cheeky Monkey's, the local club. Despite being warned that you needed to be very drunk upon arrival to find the place enjoyable, we had a great time getting drunk while inside, and spent the next morning vainly trying polish the stamp off the inside of our wrists before our second surf lesson. </p>
<p>We dried off and took the second bus (we missed the first) to Surfer's Paradise, where we booked into a hostel, grabbed some pizza and caught up with the sleep lost from the days before. The next morning it was checkout at 10am, so Heather and I went and hired out boards to practise our technique on the main beach (92km long) while James went to meet with Cassy (Oli's ex). Despite the initial promise to meet at 10am, she didn't actually arrive until 2.30pm, by which time Heather and myself were already out of the water and eating lunch. After a stroll down the beach we went back to the bus station where we met up with James, Cassy and Larnie, before boarding the next coach to Brisbane. </p>
<p>Some confusion regarding where and when Andrew would be meeting us in Brisbane occurred, and after arriving at his flat and trying to get his housemate's attention for over two hours, we eventually checked into the hotel next door. Not unlike in Whistler, upon opening the room door we found that the place had not been vacated by the previous occupants and so got a free upgrade. No worries. </p>
<p>This morning we packed up shop and headed to the city to catch the number 445 to Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary. After some issues with the public transport we eventually made it there, and the result is this wonderful picture of me and a very smelly koala. </p>
<p>We are now back in Brisbane, on the final attempt to reunite with Andrew (who may well still be in Fiji) before heading off in our hired campervan tomorrow. Looking forward to it, although we're now on a pretty tight schedule...</p>
Skydiving and Surfing2006-06-30T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/skydiving-and-surfing/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/189.jpg" alt="" />
<p>I think it was Mother Teresa who once said, "<em>If your going to take a 14 hour overnight coach, you should definitely try skydiving and surfing the next day</em>". Okay, so I'm not sure she said that, but if she had, it would have perfectly matched today's turn of events.</p>
<p>After leaving Sydney late last night, and a coach journey that was peppered with coughing fits (not me I might add) and the guy behind me muttering to himself intermittently, we arrived in Byron Bay at 8am this morning.</p>
<p>We needed food, so went for a bacon and egg butty. It was very quickly I noticed the guy in the shop next door putting out his sign. Skydive special offer. Usually when you encounter an extreme sport, taking 'Special Offers' might indicate that it could be an interesting experience, however I was assured that this was not the case, "<em>It's just off season</em>". So I did it. And it was fantastic. Quite possibly the most mind blowing experience. The DVD makes it look like I was terrified, but in reality I really did feel quite calm. This would be as opposed to bungee, which scares the crap out of me.</p>
<p>We went up in a little 10 seater, up to 14,000 ft and dropped for 70 seconds of free-fall. The sky had been a little cloudy, but the guy who jumped with me (Albi) said that only added to the thrill. Apparently it shows you just how fast you are travelling, but I didn't really see much of the cloud as we shot through it at 200kph. Brilliant.</p>
<p>We were now on a tight schedule. Not content with one extreme sport, next stop was a crash course in surfing. Heather and James turned out to be semi-pros, and we're getting another lesson in tomorrow. All salty and sandy, but it was good weather all the way, and the surfing was quality.</p>
<p>Tomorrow we move on to Surfer's Paradise (which we are assured, it isn't) and will meet with Cassy. I think we're going out tonight...</p>
Back In Sydney (again, again)2006-06-29T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/back-in-sydney-again-again/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/206.jpg" alt="" />
<p>This time is the last time. We set off early this morning from our hostel at Katoomba in the Blue Mountains in order to return the hire car before 11am. The journey was fairly smooth until we got into the centre of the city and did some more car pinball until we found the place we needed.</p>
<p>After leaving the car behind we went back down to the waterfront to take the harbour cruise we never managed before, and while we waited for departure, ended up playing cards again.</p>
<p>This evening we catch the Greyhound to Byron Bay; a mere 14 hours by coach, so we're doing it overnight. Currently we are wasting away the afternoon as we've seen as much as we need to here.</p><p>I've uploaded a couple more photos; check down the page to see the filled in gaps.</p>
In The Blue Mountains2006-06-28T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-the-blue-mountains/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/35.jpg" alt="" />
<p>The jump into the car yesterday morning had to be speedy. After waiting in the reception of Sydney Central YHA for two hours, James and Heather parked the car opposite, crammed the bags into the back and we set off on a scenic tour of Sydney Airport. Not that we were meant to be anywhere near Sydney Airport.</p>
<p>James' navigation skills still need some polishing, and after arriving at the International Terminal, we turned around and went in the right direction; towards the Blue Mountains. We inadvertently also ended up at the Sydney Olympic Park, and after a brief exploration, we got back into the two-door and travelled the last leg of the journey into the hills.</p>
<p>Two days ago I mentioned I was feeling ill, and yesterday was the peak of my discomfort. I was streaming, ears were blocked and eyes were watering. Thankfully I've been feeling better today, but it's still not totally gone. Thankfully in the evening yesterday I was feeling good enough to go on a brief walk to the end of our road to view the major local landmark, The Three Sisters. Blue Mountains sits on the edge of what the Australians call the Grand Canyon, and The Three Sisters are a rock formation on the edge. Admittedly not as big as <em>the </em>Grand Canyon, the views were still spectacular and a large number of photos were taken.</p>
<p>Once back at the hostel, we dropped in a wash, watched Neighbours (been there!) and cooked ourselves a chicken tikka masala, complete with a bottle of wine worth forty quid (Heather couldn't be bothered to carry it any more). After cards, we crashed.</p>
<p>This morning was an early start, and we went on another visit to the three sisters, this time going further and descending the 500 or steps into the canyon itself. After a two hour stroll we took the inclined railway (the steepest in the world) back to the top and made our way to the car for the afternoon's excursion.</p>
<p>Despite the sunshine, when you move into the shade it becomes ridiculously cold. We arrived at our destination (the Jenolan Caves) and after a quick scout about and inspection of the stalactites/mites, we decided it was too cold to stand around in the shadow of the hills and took refuge with hot chocolates in the tourist shop.</p>
<p>The drive home was three hours long, with an elongated break while we tried to sort out burning photos to CD (a digital nightmare). Once back in the Blue Mountains it was fish and chips and planning tomorrow...</p>
Frappacinos and Roadtrips2006-06-27T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/frappacinos-and-roadtrips/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/208.jpg" alt="" />
<p>Yesterday morning started with toast and coffee and a train to the Opera House. We decided that walking around the outside was just not good enough, and so decided to satisfy our urge to see inside by taking an hour long tour around the building (which is in fact three separate structures). We had hoped to book tickets to see Romeo and Juliet, but unfortunately it had been sold out, so we took the recommendation of the woman in the box office and purchased three seats for 'an acclaimed American Jazz Band' that evening in the main hall.</p>
<p>We came back up from the quayside and back inside the Sydney Tower to buy tickets for the lifts. James opted to stay inside, but Heather and I decided to don what only can be equated to Bananaman's idea of pyjamas (a bold yellow and blue jumpsuit), hook ourselves onto a rail on a rubber band and walk around the top edge of the building. It was cool, and the weather was good, although the hype would have you believe there might be an element of fear in standing 250m above Sydney. This was not the case. I've encountered fluffy toys that are more scary than the Skywalk, and to make things worse they parade to the front of the lifts queues through the starring crowds who say things like "<em>Look at the banana people over there.</em>". Captain Planet would have been proud.</p>
<p>After our epic journey (spent mostly in the ever-slow lifts) we came back to the hostel, whipped on some smart stuff, picked up Peel (one of Heather's new Danish friends) and went back over to the Opera House for the performance. Not quite what we were expecting, the jazz band turned out to be a symphony orchestra who played two jazz numbers at the end (The St. Louis Oboubia???). The opening band had been the most impressive; a Singaporean primary school band (ages 8-12) who managed to make my one school appearance playing <em>The Toreador </em>on a recorder sound pathetic.</p>
<p>We went for a beer (or two) and crashed. Australia lost last night I assume, but the papers are all but vague about it. They aren't mentioning the score anywhere.</p>
<p>Today we're off on a mystery road trip to the Blue Mountains (a 'Heatha-adventure'), as the tour bus failed to show this morning, so we're hiring a car.</p>
In Sydney (Again)2006-06-26T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-sydney-again/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/207.jpg" alt="" />
<p>Last time I was in Sydney, I didn't even get to go outdoors, so this visit has been a little better from the outset.</p>
<p>Yesterday we woke up to a full cooked breakfast by Corrine, which was a soak for the night before spent watching the Ireland/Australia match at the local Irish Pub. Bitterly defeated, but surprisingly happy (esp. Heather) we spent the night drinking with an Irishman (John) and his Australian girlfriend (Sarah).</p>
<p>The night's sleep had been somewhat punctuated by the house cat. Called Bailey, I will refer to him as Captain Insane, because, as the name suggests, the cat was not normal. He spent the night jumping from bed to bed, fishing balls out of the pockets of the pool table, jumping at walls and trying to open cupboards. He also tried to eat my leg, scratch James and knock over Heather's last vial of contact lens solution. I think he also set off my allergies. I am feeling a little fragile right now; mostly a sore throat and runny nose, and I'm crossing my fingers it is nothing else. I do however, feel like I am the safest tourist in Eastern Australia, travelling with two pharmacists.</p>
<p>Once up, we took a look at some local markets and the war memorial before boarding the coach and moving on to here (Sydney). We booked into a hostel, got ourselves a steak and went for a walkabout on the harbour front. All the obligatory photos (it's fantastic) and ended up walking across the harbour bridge before taking a couple of pots at the Opera House bar.</p>
<p>This morning we're looking into things to do. I think we've got a few ideas knocking around...</p>
Kangaroos2006-06-24T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/kangaroos/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/207.jpg" alt="" />
<p>If there is one quintessential moment in a trip to Australia, it is probably the one when you see your first kangaroo. And today was mine.</p>
<p>We had spent yesterday going slow; most of the time had been spent in between the hostel and the mall where we had food. There had also been a walk up to the new parliament buildings and a tour of the chambers, but wet weather had left us a bit soggy around the edges. Our dorm in the hostel was a ten-man job, despite the early promise of a four man room. It was still a nice setup, and after slowly easing our way through the day and making the most of the accidental but unlimited web-access we had a quick drink at the hostel bar and a Mexican dinner before bed at 9pm. Not the most exhilaratingly of days, but we were still feeling shoddy from the coach journey.</p>
<p>This morning we were up and out by ten. Corrine, James' cousin once removed (we think) picked us up and we dumped our bags over at her house before going on a road trip around Canberra. Firstly we took a trip up the Telstar tower (for free; Corrine's daughter Tess works there) and absorbed the fantastic vantage over the city. We then drove further out, visiting the sites of the burnt out space centre and the remaining working site (following the bush fires three years ago). Afterwards we visited a local reservation (again fire damaged) but were able to get a close up look at the kangaroos and wallabies. Unfortunately the koalas were a bit thin on the ground (in the trees) but no disappointment as we have the wonders of Steve Irwin's Australia Zoo in Brisbane for that extra privilege.</p>
<p>Tonight we are going to watch the Ireland/Australia match (Heather is pining) and then have food when we get back. It's been pretty cool, as it's the first day where we have really felt like this is 'true' Aus, and hopefully as we move up to Sydney we'll continue getting the good weather.</p>
In Canberra2006-06-23T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-canberra/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/123.jpg" alt="" />
<p>After being joined by Andrew the day before last, we spent the evening wondering the city for some food and drink, ending up in an English-themed pub in a large mall where the they had enclosed an entire building (some Victorian factory) under a huge domed glass roof. Impressive. We then moved on to find some bar or nightspot, and ended up in a small jazz bar under a restaurant. Impressive decor and some quality cocktails took us up to bedtime when we wandered home to catch some sleep before the drive the next day.</p>
<p>Andrew hired out a car and after sorting out our Greyhound tickets for the evening we took off for the Great Ocean Road. The world's biggest war memorial, it goes on for miles and miles, but in the eight hours we had we managed to get as far as the 12 Apostles, a coastal rock formation with a spectacular view at sunset. I've got some really nice photos, but once again, can't get them online here. On the way out we stopped for fish and chips, and on the way back (which was speedy) we had to grab incredibly fast Subs and rush over to catch our eight hour coach (saying bye to Andrew who we will be trying to meet up with again in Brisbane). It wasn't comfortable or warm, but it leaves us here in Canberra at 9am. We can't check in yet, but James has been planning our itinerary and I think it looks like we're not going to get much of a chance to sit down today...</p>
Neighbours2006-06-21T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/neighbours/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/170.jpg" alt="" />
<p>There is nothing quite as touristy as driving through the suburbs of Melbourne in a bus with Harold Bishop painted on the side in the search of all things Ramsay St. James, Heather and myself got ourselves up early this morning (despite a slightly drunken evening) in order to catch the official Neighbours tour and do a bit of celebrity stalking. Despite the early promise of a sighting of one of the stars, sitting outside the studios for half an hour failed to yield any results, so we were driven to Erinsbrugh (Sp?) High School for the obligatory photos before moving onto the famous but surprisingly short street. Plenty of photos, plenty of plot spoilers. All good fun, although a little disappointed we didn't get a photo with Steph.</p>
<p>The afternoon brought the arrival of Andrew who flew in from Brisbane. We took lunch at some street cafe that reminded me of Italy more than eastern Australia before jumping on a free shuttle and browsing around the town. Heather headed back to send some critical emails and do some shopping, while James, Andrew and I took a long (long, long) walk to a beach on the far side of the city. After working up a considerable thirst, we thought it was only appropriate to have a few refreshments and to sample some of the local cuisine (at a very nice restaurant) before heading back via tram.</p>
<p>Tonight we're back in the bar under the hostel. It's impressive considering the usual state of hostel bars, although we have become somewhat sceptical of anything that is advertised as 'free' here, finding that all the offers in the bar, hostel and in fact most of Melbourne are a little misleading. Tomorrow we take the great coastal drive, but for now it's another night sampling the local brews...</p>
In Melbourne2006-06-20T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-melbourne/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/133.jpg" alt="" />
<p>So after being asked on several occasions yesterday "<em>Do you need a youth hostel mate?"</em> (apparently falling asleep on the chairs in an airport arrivals terminal for more than six hours makes you look like you are one of the homeless), James and Heather arrived with copious amounts of luggage.</p>
<p>We grabbed a fast drink and decided that we needed to get from Sydney to Melbourne that night. The original plan had been to catch the 12hr coach, but this was less than appealing, so instead we booked ourselves onto an internal flight, and after stuffing ourselves with noodles we boarded and cut the travel time down by ten hours. It was the third time I had landed in Australia in a day, and I still hadn't been outside.</p>
<p>We booked into a hostel downtown (where we are now) and are awaiting the arrival of Andrew (a friend/fellow placementeer of James and Heather). Looks like there might be an impromptu visit to the Neighbours set during the delay, as despite James' initial estimations, he might not be here until tomorrow.</p>
<p>Got to dash, but we need food and to explore Melbourne...</p>
In Cairns/Sydney2006-06-19T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-cairns-sydney/<p>So, I'm in Sydney. I'm not entirely convinced when yesterday ended and today started; even though I didn't have to cross any date lines or move more than an hour out of a timezone, the two flights still took nine hours combined, and despite it being ten o'clock in the morning, it feels like mid afternoon. I have a nasty feeling the jetlag is really likely to bite today.</p>
<p>James, apparently, is somewhere in New Zealand and will be boarding his flight in the next few hours to meet me here at 2.30pm. That leaves me doing some waiting. I mean, a lot of waiting. In fact, the past 24hrs have been mostly waiting. After I got back from the war memorial yesterday, I have spent most of my existence wandering around subway stations, 'skyliner' stations and in airports. For example, five hours of last night was spent reading, then re-reading The Weekly Telegraph. Unfortunately as someone with daily access to BBC News, the content is somewhat dated already.</p>
<p>Arriving in Sydney, I was a little surprised at the extent of the building works outside of international arrivals. On closer inspection (as I tucked into what I would consider half a baguette for the reasonable extortion of six quid) it is not works at all, instead a series of large arty, rusty iron meshes that act like screens, but have the unfortunate appearance of a crumbling construction site.</p>
<p>Not all is bad though. In fact you might get the wrong impression. Sydney is nice and cool, I can blow my nose in public, don't have to remember how to say thank you in Japanese and am enjoying comfortable surroundings on the sofas. With free internet access. Why are they still charging for it in the UK; every other airport seems to be offering it <em>gratis</em> apart from in the ones back home.</p>
<p>There was mediocre excitement on the flight in between the film and finishing of Clarkson's book. I was dosing in the middle of the night, when one of the passengers waiting for the toilet next to my seat did a full on stunt-passout and landed flat on his back. This has happened before, and it might be advisable that anyone considering flying doesn't sit near me, except unlike when it happened last time and the air hostess screamed like a baby, this time the very casual Aussie air hostess waved a magazine in the guy's general direction and told him to get on his way. It's this type of ruthless efficiency that drives this nation.</p>
<p>I am guessing we are going to be hearing some dose of moanage today. Apparently Australia are waking up to the news that Brazil won yesterday night. Well, that's another 10p on the free accumulative bet I got with Skybet... I'm going to have millions by the end of the World Cup.</p>
<p>[Apparently comments aren't working (I have heard). If you need to get a message to me it's going to have to be via email...]</p>
Last Day In Japan2006-06-18T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/last-day-in-japan/<p>Today started a bit disastrously. Despite my setting of my alarm clock, I was woken at 11.15am by reception saying that I had 15 minutes to leave my room before I was charged an extra fee. Turns out that in my tiredness last night, I didn't check that the setting was AM or PM; turns out it was PM. This isn't really a problem, except that I missed breakfast and I couldn't grab a morning shower (sorry Davies, I'm going to stink when I get to Sydney). I hurried out of bed, three hours after I was meant to, pushed my kit into my bags and headed down to reception. Thankfully they store backpacks for free, and so that's where I left my stuff as I trundled next door to the cafe. After glancing at myself in a mirror, I realised that a coffee was essential, so I had two. And a pastry thing.</p>
<p>After that caffeine kick-start I felt a lot more awake and decided to make one last tourist-visit before making my way to the airport. Apparently the National War Shrine at Yasukuni was only three or four stops away on the subway, so I made my way there. This morning I needed an umbrella. When I arrived I noticed every single person appears to carry one at all time, and after making my purchase (
</p>A Full Day In Tokyo2006-06-17T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/a-full-day-in-tokyo/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/105.jpg" alt="" />
<p>Due to the nature of jetlag, it has felt like 6pm all day, although it is still only 5.30pm now. Soon I will be in sync. I thought I'd be adventurous, so I tried the full on Japanese breakfast this morning, and I did it with chopsticks too. I was a little disappointed to see all the natives using knife and fork, but I showed them how. I tried pretty much everything in the pots. Maybe a little too adventurous, and I will be staying away from anything blue and slimy tomorrow morning, because although it 'slipped down' it wasn't exactly a wonderful experience.</p>
<p>I thought I'd share this piece of information now, as if I tell you where I ate last night you will think that I am totally bland. I had a Subway. I will argue that Japanese Subs do taste different and you can have chips as well if you like (I didn't). I did however have a drink that was the colour of Kryptonite, which was nice.</p>
<p>So far there haven't been any major problems. Mostly things have been lost in translation, but once you get the hang of the subway system (I now realise the prices refer to zones as in London, not per trip costs) its fairly smooth going. I feel like a local. Well, a local who doesn't really know what he's doing, and forgets to use the money trays, and forgets how to say thanks. Apart from that, a real local.</p>
<p>The Hotel Universe is a stones throw from a subway station, so getting out of bed, through food and onto the underground by 9am this morning wasn't a problem. First stop was Aoyama and the Meiji Shrine, which sport the largest torii in Japan apparently. It used to be the personal gardens of the Emperor and the iris garden was a favourite of his. Luckily I have arrived in the two week gap every year when the irises flower, and it is spectacular, if not rammed from beginning to end with a stream of (Japanese) tourists who all are trying to outdo each other with camera kit. It makes my SLR kit look quite pathetic. That said, I have taken approximately 70 photos in the past two days, so doing quite well.</p>
<p>I ate lunch after a comprehensive walkabout and ordered the Beef Curry Rice when the woman behind the counter couldn't tell me what the 'special toppings' on the buckwheat noodles was. After a stroll back through the busy streets (past all the designer shops; Harajuku and Aoyama have a reputation as the place where, as my guidebook states, the 'Teenage Hipsters' hang out). On from here I took the subway to the crammed riverside markets of Asakusa where I wondered for an hour or so in the heavy heat, pursuing the narrow streets and winding stalls that are woven tight with an unhealthy number of overhead cables. I also investigated the Senso-ji Temple, the oldest temple in Tokyo and impressively lavish. By midday the place was brim-full of tourists and so I moved on again.</p>
<p>For the next stop I came right back across town to Marunouchi, the oldest quarter of Tokyo and possibly the most barren. Like Washington DC, it was very sparse bar the important buildings, and it took quite a walk from the station to the Imperial Palace. After taking some photos of what I thought was the Imperial Palace, I walked a little further only to discover I had been a little mistaken and I had to take all my photos again.</p>
<p>On the walk back I used the vending machines again. A different experience to the ones in the UK, you don't always know what you are getting, mostly due to the language issue. I most recently bought an ice tea, although I didn't know that until I opened it.</p>
<p>Tonight there are two final districts I want to explore (rather than stay inside and watch the interesting, colourful and somewhat bizarre television programmes). I can't remember what time my flight is, but I will need to check that out. I haven't yet decided what I have for food tonight either. Oh, by the way, the girls here are stunning.</p>
<p>I managed to lynch another Mac today and have been abusing the free internet. Notice came through of my dissertation mark (finally) and I managed to hit 70. I'm happy, very happy to have a First, although I do think I would have appreciated a mark one or two points higher... Can't complain though; I did manage to acquire international notoriety after all. Swanny did the calculations the other day and worked out (even though he was drunken) that I was on for a definite 2:1. I'm more than happy at this as there are many friends of mine back at home sweating that they are sitting on the borderline. I'd much rather know than have to wait until grades day.</p>
<p>I was hoping to upload a photo, but I haven't got my USB cable with me.</p>
In Tokyo2006-06-16T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-tokyo/<p>Well I made it. Its a bit hard doing punctuation on a Japanese keyboard, and also a bit tricky avoiding eye contact with the staff in this Apple store, who no doubt will be trying to sell me this Macbook Pro when they realise how long I've spent on it, so you'll have to excuse the lack of apostrophes. The flight was easy, I got down to Heathrow in plenty of time, and after 11 hours and a bit we touched down in Narita. The last hour of the flight was spent conversing with the lady on my right, and the girl on my left, who had given me enough instruction to get to the vicinity of my hotel.</p>
<p>It was partially a mission - the Japanese do not have a street name/number system, and so it is down to the individual local to tell you whether you are in the right place or not. Most of my locals did not know where it was.</p>
<p>I finally checked into the Hotel Universe and kipped for an hour. Although I knew the result of the England game, it was good fun watching it in Japanese, so I tried that.</p>
<p>I'm about a ten minute subway ride from Ginza (where I am now) which appears to be a main shopping district (Prada, Burberry etc). I have yet to try any of the cuisine as it all looks a little intimidating considering nothing is translatable, and when I told the girl on the plane that I didn't even have a general knowledge of Katakana, she looked like I night not survive. The guide I bought says I will be fine however, and as its subway map seems to be reliable, I am putting my faith in it.</p>
<p>Tomorrow I will try and find the temple district as it is my only full day, and if I can get up early enough apparently the fish market is worth a visit. Currently its humid but bearable, getting dark, and the neon lights are all on. This is what I expected of Tokyo.</p>
Back In Blighty2005-09-17T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/back-in-blighty/<img src="https://andyhiggs.uk/img/posts/10.jpg" alt="" />
<p>Our final day in NYC was spent frantically scouring the shops and touristy boutiques of Times Square and China Town around Canal St. Due to travel capacity it had been hard to pick up souvenirs beforehand, so we had to rush-buy all the presents - even if we knew exactly what we had wanted to get for a long time before.</p>
<p>A tip off from the guidebook suggested a store called Century 21, which happens to be directly opposite Ground Zero. James and I explored the shoe department first and I picked up a much needed pair of 'sneakers' (whatever they are). We then went into the main store and did the rest of our department store fishing.</p>
<p>I was keen on one particular visit while we were in the city. On the day we had travelled from D.C. I found a Apple Newsletter in my Bulk inbox advertising the new iPod nano. At first glance at the subject line I thought it was a wind up, a promotional thing, but on closer inspection (and a visit to the Apple site) I discovered that this was indeed the replacement to the iPod mini. At first I was <em>very</em> sceptical. Posters appeared on the subway and my first impressions were of a flimsy credit-cardesque design with a pathetically small screen. We went to Apple Store NYC (on the corner of Prince St. & Greene St.). I changed my mind.</p>
<p>This is a truly beautiful piece of design. Once again Apple excel and I find myself strangely drawn to this fantastically tactile object. The screen maybe small, but fits so cleanly into the layout; the <em>ultra-thin </em>layout, that I was overwhelmed.</p>
<p>Another great discovery by total chance was that The Doves were playing a live set upstairs by the Genius Bar at 3pm. Unfortunately this was not compatible with our flightplan/schedule, so I had to just settle for watching them go through pre-show checks. Still cool though.</p>
<p>China town and some late lunch was next. We then had a final stroll through Little Italy before jumping on the subway back to the Malibu Hostel and picking up our bags. We had to walk five blocks to the next 'blue' station, which made for sweaty backs and wasn't pleasant. It was then a straightforward metro ride to JFK.</p>
<p>Straightforward that is except that when the 1 week unlimited metrocard says it will get you to the airport you need to know better, as in fact it gets you to the perimeter of the airport, dumps you, then demands a further five bucks each to take you to the correct terminal (not walking distance). This was a point of annoyance for us as both of us had thought we had been safe to spend our last dollar; even extracting a last twenty to pay for a final souvenir (so incurring the ridiculous ATM charge once more). We put it on card.</p>
<p>And so we flew home. A hour long delay on the runway was illustrated and lightened by the pilot allowing the cabin to listen to the ATC radio on one of the earphone channels. I had always assumed the responsibility of controlling the world's airports fell to serious individuals, but all these illusions were shattered after five minutes of comedy eavesdropping. Something had held the whole runway up and there were planes stacking up everywhere. The controller was issuing messages as different pilots joked (totally dead pan delivery by some - some had to explain that they were only joking) and one participant even started singing about his love for New York. It was all a bit surreal really, but made the wait more bearable. We also had the gift of a fainting passenger, a over melodramatic air steward, and were kindly upgraded to the back row of economy for no extra cost (great).</p>
<p>We got in at about 9am, and I 've spent most of the day just chillaxing as flights mess with your head and your timescales. I've met the new cat (Alice) - seems nice enough, and also seen the final Tours4 prints with which I am very pleased. All in all, very good day so far, but I've got a list as long as my arm of things to complete/buy/set up/make contact with in the next couple of days. I'm going to need everything caffeinated.</p>
Odd2005-09-15T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/odd/<p>Today didn't quite go as planned. Although we had great plans absolutely nothing we had expected occurred and everything we did, didn't; if you know what I mean.</p>
<p>We had thought that an early rise might have taken us back to Time Sq. for some tickets to go and see Spamalot (the Monty Python Musical) but upon arrival discovered that the queue earlier in the day is much longer than in the evenings and the tickets for the main Broadway shows as extortionate as we thought they would be before we went to STOMP.</p>
<p>Instead we rounded on a few touristy shops along the street and was approached by a woman to join up with the Scientologists. We kindly refused her attempts to lure us in to watch the video, and I have Tom Roberts to thank for the information regarding ignoring these people; after all, who wants to end up like John Travolta or Tom Cruise..?</p>
<p>We then made our way to several other big NY attractions on our list and our plans had to be changed at every stop. We grabbed lunch from Grand Central station, and although we had then thought we would stop off at the UN building for a tour, we soon found most of 42nd-47th St. cordoned off with massive security. It turns out that we hadn't been the only people to pick today to make a visit - there was a full blown meeting of the General Assembly starting (a three day event) and with a full scale protest outside to match. In our adventurous spirited nature, we moved through the ranks of anti-Iranian Presidency protesters and the police to see what exactly was going on, but soon decided eventually that penetrating the assembled throng wasn't actually that easy and so headed back.</p>
<p>We were overwhelmed with vast numbers of black, blacked-out limos heading in all directions, many with police escorts and it was all amusing to watch. A heavy police presence allowed us to poke fun at the 'Secret Service' who clearly haven't come to terms with the first part of their division name. Maybe more appropriate would be the 'Slightly Obvious Service' or 'Quite Easy to Spot Service' with their big black flak jackets, branded in the boldest typefont 'Secret Service'.</p>
<p>We headed back in the direction we had come from and ended up at the NY Public Library. As we had nothing else to do we took an hour long tour of the library (with the epitome of the perfect 60 year old librarian stereotype) and got a rare glimpse at a Guttenberg bible (if that means anything to anyone else - its rare and significant in the story of print).</p>
<p>This cut another chunk out of the day and so we made a beeline to our next proposed stop - a renowned photography exhibit. Turns out that was closed for renovation of the exhibit, so we sat in Starbucks and watched the world go by until James suggested a round trip on the Staten Island Ferry.</p>
<p>We returned later to a very humid Manhattan - apparently hurricanes in North Carolina are giving us some poor (very sticky) and misty views. It's very good luck that we did all the sight seeing we wanted to do in the past two days.</p>
<p>And so we spent our last remaining money on a big meal out just down the road. Our last night in NYC and we have decided to relax as its been busy all this week. Need to take a breather before the big flight.</p>
<p>DDS has finally sent me a photo of our first production run. Looking good. Dandy is nearly set for launch...</p>
STOMP2005-09-14T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/stomp/<p>Well James and I got cultured today. We got up early morning (ish), partially due to poor sleeping. Our room at hostel last night was sparse to say the least, even if it was private. We headed into downtown Manhattan again and went through the streets to find the NYPD museum which the guidebook recommends as a stop. A couple of hours later we emerged back into the heat and took the subway to Canal Street (cheers for the tip Oli) and ate fried rice/noodles for lunch before trawling the rows of tacky electrical and tourist shops.</p>
<p>DDS might be interested to know that The Trump Building on Wall Street was one of our many stops along the way for suitably posey photo opportunities.</p>
<p>We decided to walk back through Central Park, arriving at the hotel/hostel mid afternoon in time to book back into our room and get ready for our evening 'on Broadway'. Although not strictly budgeted for, we splashed out on 'TKTS' for STOMP, the acclaimed dustbinlid-banging, brush-sweeping and lighter-flicking theatre show (Good tip off Devito; knew you couldn't have been put on earth for <em>no </em>reason). Highly impressed, we watched the whole show on very little resources, and decided once everything was over to go and get some proper food. This roundabout trip extended until the early hours of the morning with stops being made at the Brooklyn Bridge (part 2, by night), Times Square and the highly impressive Empire State Building observatory. This is <em>definitely</em> the best time to view the spectacular skylines from above.</p>
<p>Overall another jam-packed day, and it looks like if we are mad enough (not sure where the money is coming from) we may end up on Broadway tomorrow night for another show... (not that our hotel isn't on Broadway either, but you know what I mean).</p>
So Good They Named It Twice2005-09-13T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/so-good-they-named-it-twice/<p>First thing's first, I need to apologise for spelling and grammar etc etc in all of these blog entries. before any more sticklers get annoyed at these garbled scripts, the reason mostly is due to the time limits and I need to let you know it frustrates me as much as you - especially as I don't get a chance to read it back until I get your comments :)</p>
<p>Well James and I are in the Big Apple. We moved out of the sober Washington DC pretty quickly after we had seen all the major sights - the Whitehouse was (typically) surrounded by a police cordon which meant we couldn't get very close until later in the day when it had been moved back. We were also denied the opportunity to take any photos by a cop-on-a-bike, who was unsuccessfully trying to marshal all the tourists. Most people realised if they walked back out of pedalling distance he couldn't stop them.</p>
<p>We then got hold of our tickets for the Washington Monument. It's a huge structure, and so is the queue usually, but we darted in due to reduced sales (Sept 11th?), but had to wait until our time came up so spent the next hour and a bit exploring one of the other wings of the mall. We walked towards the Capitol, and popped into the National Museum for the only bit of culture that DC can provide before heading back to the Washington Monument for our viewing. There is surprisingly little in the way of viewing space, but after out peer in all four directions we headed back down and out. The rest of the day was spent looking at the (huge) Lincoln Memorial and then taking a four hour Greyhound to New York.</p>
<p>After all the administrative and frankly boring austerity of DC (not worth another visit but for the three or four monuments and the Whitehouse) it was refreshing to reach a city with some life. James had been feeling pretty ropey all day, and Washington wasn't doing us any favours as the heat was stifling and there was little in the way of shade.</p>
<p>New York on the other hand interested me from the moment we arrived, but I think I was/still am expecting a lot from this place, so it may just be childish excitement. We booked into what seems to be an oversubscribed youth hostel, grabbed some subs for dinner and chowed down to Oceans 11 (one channel only) and an early night.</p>
<p>This morning we awoke of our own accord and headed down to South Ferry at the bottom of Manhattan to explore the area (Battery Park, Wall St), find a Starbucks for coffee (living the American dream) and then get a trip over to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. A few hot hours later we arrived back. It had been a really good chance to explore some of the offshore attractions and see the skyline from the water. Plenty of photos too. Back on land, we made a beeline for downtown (more food needed) and ended up at the vast expanse that is ground zero. Although we knew we were heading for it, it eerily arises as you approach, as one of the major features of NYC seems to be an overcrowding of towering buildings, then suddenly, in the middle of this metropolis, there is nothing. Even before you see the signs and the displays you know where you are.</p>
<p>After some more subs (James is sick of them) we took the subway back to the hostel and checked back in. (room change). I also did some haphazard sewing repairs to my backpack which has started to break at the top, a new type of stitch called Limping Stitch was used.</p>
<p>And so we have just got back from some wholesome American food (pizza) and will be having an early night to see the further delights of the city tomorrow.</p>
Who the **** is Alice?2005-09-11T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/who-the-is-alice/<p>We arrived in Washington last night after a one and a half hour flight. The place is clearly what I expected and we won't be spending more time here than we have to. Just a quick round of the sights and then off on the Greyhound. Our next destination is not set yet - we are aiming for NYC but may delay depending on time.</p>
<p>Before we departed yesterday, Alex showed us his new house (or the start of it) and we called around to see Krissy and Matt's child-infested house (there were four kids over, including Joel). Once we had finished we upped and offed to the airport, and once in DC contended with the most surreal and complicated arrivals system we have ever encountered.</p>
<p>Apparently we have a cat called Alice, but nobody told me until today. Nice.</p>
IMAX II2005-09-10T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/imax-ii/<p>Betty and Rusty's smells of the old-style USA. From the beat up caravans to the long, thin and sharp cacti, the whole thing is genuine John Wayne (without the Hollywood factor). Betty married Rusty a long while back, and she was a third of his age and most certainly not his first wife when it happened. They have an interesting collection of stories and a very forward attitude to talking about 'personal things' considering they are surrounded by 20-something year olds and are both (well) over 50 (Rusty is nearer 80). </p>
<p>We arrived and were quickly assigned to horses for a late evening horse trek through the desert. I have never had any desire to ride horses, however if there had been any opportunity in my life where I would have wanted to have started it was here. And so I was acquainted with Mitsy. I don't know what you can say about a horse, but Mitsy was a good horse and tended to life to walk of her (?) own accord. Apart from this tendency to wander, I enjoyed the ride a great deal and will definitely try it again sometime in the future. </p>
<p>Half way through the ride we stopped for a bathe in a nearby lake. Extremely warm it was very refreshing but also bearable and after our short break, dried off and headed back to the camp where Betty, Rusty and nephew Joel sang cowboy songs while we scoffed down a shoulder of beef, cowboy style. </p>
<p>Rusty certainly had some funny stories and funny opinions. We were all enlightened to hear how he defended himself in one court by explaining that he had stolen a rope and the horse had been attached to it. The laughter and commotion that this had caused meant the judge had to adjourn the hearing an it was never recommenced. Also his views that he could get a new <em>doll</em> in the blink of an eye if he wanted, his games of body-shots with previous trek groups and his one liners on how the grand canyon was formed (Betty dropped a nickel) or how he'd had running water all his life - '<em>she just had to run and get it</em>'. </p>
<p>We drank the night away until we ran out of alcohol, except for Kristie and James who polished off a bottle of vodka between themselves and clearly had much to show for it. I had the honour of sleeping next to them and the conversation was more than interesting. Pete managed to scare the crap out of the two drunkards with his cow skull/wild donkey routine, and all in all we had a fantastic night finding out about each other. James and my drinking game compendium certainly was appreciated and led to many a revelation. </p>
<p>The next morning a number of us went off in search of the showers (at a local campsite) and James received the final instalment of his haircut which had been started in the pitch black of the night before. After all this was done we set off on the final leg of the tour - the road to LA. A number of hours later (in the evening) we arrived in Beverley Hills, CA. All the major 'drives' had to be experienced and so Joe took us on a roadtrip including Rodeo Drive, Bel Air, the walk of fame, the Chinese Theatre, the Kodak Theatre and finally the Hollywood hills/sign. This was the end of the tour officially. We drove to our hotel and then went our own ways. James and I stayed in the end hotel (the Haceyenda) along with Joe, John and Laura, so we met up for a bot to eat at a nearby cafe with Ellie and Kerry for a final time before properly parting. </p>
<p>The next morning James and I decided to see what available routes were obtainable using free hotel shuttle connections, but after reaching the airport (LAX baby) decided we had been outwitted. Instead we went to the Air Canada desk and asked if we could have our flights brought a day forward as LA really was rapidly losing all sense of appeal. They obliged, and at no extra cost we arranged for our Toronto flight to be moved, much to our pleasure. Afterwards we headed back to the hotel and got in touch with Pete and Kristie who were still in the area and whom had hired a car. The text we received was to pack our beach stuff and met them outside the hotel at 2.30pm, which we did and took the long cruise to Santa Monica. Considering LA is one city it is absolutely sprawling, and it took a good 45 minutes to cross to the coast (in very easy traffic). </p>
<p>Santa Monica is not a beach with highly sung praises (apart from by Sheryl Crow) as Venice is the preferred tourist destination, but us pasty white Brits love nothing more than a bit of cold water and sand to indulge our wildest passions of being somewhere vaguely tepid and polluted with just a pair of swim shorts on. So while the Aussies moaned about the lack of good waves and the coolness of the sea, James and I indulged in the lukewarm millpond. A couple of hours forward and we decided it was probably advisable to inform my Canadian relatives of the change of flight plans, so dried off, took a short walk up and down the beach, went to the Apple store, browsed the farmers market, then phoned to to tell them of the 24hr change in plan. See you in 12 hours type of thing. </p>
<p>Pete dropped us off back at the hotel and we said our goodbyes. We really hope to meet with out Australian friends again in the next few months, and so we said farewell and left them to go off to discover the delights of Disneyland. The next morning required a breakfast then speedy departure to the airport where we finally caught our flight to Toronto. Disappointingly I didn't strike up a conversation with the woman sitting net to me, that is until she offered me a SpongeBob Squarepants carrot, when I discovered that although on the first day of her new job, she was in fact the personal assistant to the Vice President of Promotions at Disney and there to promote their three new films at the Toronto film festival - ShopGirl (Steve Martin, Clare Danes), Flightplan (Jodie Foster) and The Greatest Game In The World (which neither of us had any idea about what it was about, except she had to read up on it as she was meant to be selling it to the critics). Too late to ask for a ticket. </p>
<p>At the airport we were greeted by my Auntie Kiki and Uncle Garry. We were whisked back to the house where we soon bedded down for the night. Next morning we got up and went for a swim. Today was to be our 'chillax' day and so we strolled down to the local mall for a Timmy's and to get our photos burnt onto CD. On arriving back a couple of hours later we met up with my cousin Matthew, wife Krissy and newest addition to the family Joel, age nearly two years. Unfortunately Joel was a little shy (apparently something which only started in the past couple of weeks) but at least it gave me my first chance to see my cousin-once-removed. After more swimming, Alex and Matthew took us to the Kings Arms (authentic British pub, cough cough) for some food and a drink. It was here I rediscovered Keith's, which is a drink we haven't had in over two years, but still remains a favourite of mine. A large portion of food later and we headed back to Lakeshore. </p>
<p>Another morning and this time we had a day in Toronto. Auntie Kiki dropped us at the GO station and we caught the slow moving train into Union Station. We had planned to meet with Alex for lunch, but despite out contact attempts this never happened, and instead James and I grabbed Subway for lunch then headed to the cinema for some post-dinner entertainment. </p>
<p>Despite some initial confusion (James had forgot to adjust his watch and we turned up to watch the 40 Year Old Virgin three hours ahead of schedule) we swapped our tickets and got to see Batman Begins on the IMAX screen. For me the best movies on IMAX are the action ones, and despite not being a comic fan in the slightest, this really was a good film and best watched this way. Little did we know that 24hrs after the end of that one we would be back in another IMAX thatre watching another film, this time Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. </p>
<p>Back home we had a pork roast (rudely interrupting my dosage of Season 3, the OC) before showing off our vast photo collection and heading to bed. And that <em>finally </em>brings me up-to-date, or at least, up to today. </p>
<p>Today was another late-ish rise and was spent down at Woodbine, the famous racetrack about 40 minutes from Oakville. The last time I was there was probably 6 or 7 years ago, but I remember it clearly as it is the first and last racetrack I have ever been too, let alone the first or last I Have ever made a bet at. I came away about fifteen bucks down, but Uncle Garry made a killing on the slots, taking 700 at his best, and walking away with 500 bucks at the end. I was amused by our attempt to order food at the track when Uncle Garry asked for 'three meals' to be presented with a bill for about five bucks. All was soon revealed when the oriental cashier presented us with three cartons of milk and we had to explain that 'meal' and 'milk' are not the same thing, and although we appreciated the calcium, we'd rather have three hamburgers and fries. </p>
<p>We arrived home in time to meet Sue, Alex's new girlfriend, and then headed out to catch the second film of the holiday. After this entertainment we called at a house to meet up for a sly beer with some of Alex's friends (Stacey, Dutch, Chad - not present, Laura (?)) before going to Shoeless Joe's to pick up a evening meal and the rules of NFL/CFL. All in all a good night, and a couple more Canadian beers sampled. </p>
<p>Wow. That took a while. Hopefully next entry I won't have to catch up on so much - considering that these last three instalments have only just scratched the surface of what went on in the USA this summer... Will speak soon.</p>
Toronto: Story Attempt Two...2005-09-09T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/toronto-story-attempt-two/<p>Although I left the last entry hanging at 8pm (Canadian Time), it wasn't until 10pm that James, Alex, Matthew and myself actually left for food. However this left a significant gap in the adventures of me and my sidekick James, so here is the next part of the chronicle:</p>
<p>We spent the night cruising the Strip, and after our investigations, we headed back to the Golden Palm. By this time the heat was nice, although the walk home was fairly long - part of me wished the pool was still open (we had had a social gathering there earlier before we went out) but being closed we simply got back and went to sleep.</p>
<p>The next day we were allowed to 'lie in' although we made an appearance down pool-side at about 11am where we met with some of the others and made arrangements to meet for a shopping trip to a nearby mall. At the mall we grabbed a sub and then visited as many surf clothing shops a possible (a number of purchases were made) before making moves to go back the hotel. James, Pete & Charley (who by now were getting pretty friendly) and myself walked back onto the strip checking some more venues before eventually meeting everyone in the eyeing outside the fountains at Bellagio and watching two fantastic water shows.</p>
<p>As we all were hungry now we decided to go and get a buffet dinner as recommended by Joe. Despite what we initially thought, this type of dining isn't that cheap - no matter how far you walk, and we settled for some exclusive but overflowing meal at the Flamingo in true Vegas pomp. Was mightily impressed/filled.</p>
<p>After the last of the dessert was polished off we split again and spent the next few hours mopping up the sights and attractions, including the free shows down the unexplored part of the strip. We got up as far as Treasure Island, but were so bitterly disappointed that the 'Sirens of TI' show had been cancelled due to 'high winds' (a mere Zephyr) we headed back along the strip and saw the last of the big casinos with plenty of photo opportunities. Major attractions of the night included</p>
<ul><li>Caesar's Palace (why a dog that small needs such a big palace I don't know)</li><li>The Mirage and the volcano</li><li>The Luxor and it's 'inclinator'</li><li>The Excalibur</li><li>The Hard Rock Cafe &amp; Hotel</li><li>The Bellagio Fountains by night</li></ul>
<p>The next morning we moved on once more (yet another early start) and I was able to reflect on my time in Vegas. Although initially unsure of what I would make of the place I was pleasantly surprised and will one day visit again (this time when I can bet myself). The place is not tacky. Tacky is when you attempt to do something pretty grand or glitzy on a budget and screw it up, Vegas may well be bright, neon and glitter-coated, but it has been done at expense. This sort of grandeur is open to the masses and I cannot think of another example since Roman times, where so much money has been spent on impressing the general population who can freely roam as they like.</p>
<p>Our next stop was the Grand Canyon. As predicted by Joe, we ended up getting caught in the micro-climate that surrounds this great natural monument, and were drenched on occasion. Our first stop after setting up camp was the heliport where we took 35 minute flights over the area, and it was truly stunning. The canyon has to be seen to be believed, and even then it was hard to grasp the size of the thing. Later that night Joe took us to a viewing point for photos, and after we had food at camp (utilising the cabbage I bought in the coleslaw; turns out that I can't tell the difference between a lettuce and a cabbage) before retiring.</p>
<p>The next day would be our earliest rise - 4.30am for sunrise over the canyon and a 2 hour hike. There is a rule of thumb that it takes twice as long to come up as go down, so when we darted back up faster than we had descended Joe was more than surprised, but I think the motivation had mainly been in the thick red mud and puddles that had occurred we got caught in a rain storm at the bottom of our descent which prompted our fast return.</p>
<p>We dried out in the canyon shop and warmed ourselves with soup. More travelling today meant it was back in the bus to travel to our next Arizona-based destination, Betty and Rusty's out in the desert, about 70 miles outside Phoenix.</p>
<p>Once again, I am going to terminate this blog entry for a while as something more important has arisen - season 3 of the OC starts here in about 5 minutes and I'm not missing it for the world... (how sad).</p>
Toronto2005-09-08T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/toronto/<p>Summing up the events of this past week in one blog entry is going to be quite a challenge.I have managed to get near computers during this time, but it was either inconvenient, ridiculously expensive or slightly cheeky to access the internet, so hence the delay in blog entries.</p>
<p>I will tackle as much as I can remember in chronological order, but then will probably will throw in nuggets of things that I forgot and since came to mind as I work my way through this text as otherwise I'm going to be back tracking and editing for hours.</p>
<p>On our last night in San Francisco we moved back into The Commodore hotel on Sutter. Our trek was to leave from there the next morning, so to minimise on early morning transportation we decided to relocate from the hostel (which we had enjoyed a lot).</p>
<p>Food was once again Subway (Aren't we predictable) while watching The Transporter on the room TV. The next day was an early rise, a meet-up in the lobby and some introductions s we filled out paperwork for our tour in the lobby.</p><p>Our tour guide was a guy called Joe - Californian born and bred and clearly a big fan of his job. There were mostly Brits (11) and two Aussies, who we ended up becoming really good friends with. On the initial van ride (we were heading out to Yosemite) I sat next to two Welsh girls, Ellie and Kerry. It later transpired that Ellie worked for BHFNC (My client) and therefore knows Broomy, while also being the girlfriend of James' ex-housemate's brother. Small world.</p>
<p>We stopped for shopping, then lunch (staple sandwiches which were to become lunch every day) at a covered bridge. By this stagewe were getting to know people a bit better and by the time we had set up camp on the outskirts of the National Park we all knew each other at least by sight. Joe took us to explore the giant Secoya trees (the biggest living organisms on the planet) which provided time to get to know each other, including walking under and scrambling through some particularly old logs. The latter experience was very funny, and nobody escaped without a good thick layer of dust and dirt. Some great photos were taken.</p>
<p>At camp we played card games while food was cooked by the designated team. Toothpaste was evacuated from the tents as apparently bear attacks are regular and they have a particular penchant for Colgate.</p>
<p>The next day was yet another early rise and was the first indication that a pattern was emerging here. I slept really well (considering it was camping) and we made tracks up through the park. En route we saw elk, some very fats squirrels and some odd blue headed birds too.The vistas were stunning - truly beautiful almost untouched scenery. James and I concur that we would never have seen all this had we chosen to visit the park ourselves, and is one of the many reasons we have changed our preconceptions about travelling the world by tour.</p>
<p>After a good number of hours trekking up and back down, Joe took us to a secluded part of the park river where we <del>screamed</del> bathed in icy cold water. There is some good video footage of this but I haven't got the ability to attach it to the blog until I get home. Unfortunately I managed to damage my toe, and later I discovered the entire side of my foot had been shredded apart by the sharp shale I had heavily landed on in my first cannonball, but it's all clearing up now, and thankfully I escaped any pain.</p>
<p>That evening we ate philly steak at a park restaurant before heading back to camp via some impressive rocks including the famed El Captain rockface. Once again I slept well.</p>
<p>Another early rise and packing up tents meant we were back on the road. This time we were heading to a different type of destination; Las Vegas. The place really is as hot as it is made out to be, but all the same one of the most fantastic places I have ever visited. The glitz, neon lined streets and strange desert existence makes for a place that has to be experienced to be believed. Joe had totally talked down the rooms and the experience, and we stayed at the Golden Palm just off the strip. Undersell would be an exaggeration, as the rooms were the biggest we had been since since we had arrived in the states, and the location was prime, although we were only paying ten bucks per twin queen-size per night. I've never seen that kind of deal before.</p>
<p>We stuffed ourselves with pizza before, which unfortunately led to me bing sick (there may have been other factors like the water/atmosphere, but I am unsure and so have blamed it on over-indulgence), but it didn't stop me enjoying our first night out in the place, and we headed out to the hotel car park to be greeted by our 'ride'.</p>
<p>We had been promised a limo drive down the strip, but once again under-sold we arrived to find a gleaming black stretched Hummer and champagne. Awesome. I will never forget the ride. The driver had some bad-boy tunes on the system and we watched music videos on the monitors while we waited for the lights to change. It took one hour to travel the length of the Strip and back, and gave a really good opportunity to get our bearings. The drive was punctuated by stops at various points including a display the longest screen in the world, a 200 metre overhead video display to some classic Vegas music.</p>
<p>Many photos later we say in a bar at the MGM Grand, which is the worlds largest hotel casino. Joe had chosen the place as he knew we were less likely to get 'Carded' (ID'd) and we sat and drank some very expensive drinks. It was at this point we split and headed into the Casino.</p>
<p>Our Australian buddy Pete managed to do quite well for himself and actually came away with more money that he went with. Joe didn't carry such luck, but we all had a superb night, strolling down past and into the casinos including NewYork, New York, The Bellagio and The Monte Carlo.</p>
<p>I've realised we're going out for food. This story is to be continued...</p>
Viva Las Vegas2005-09-02T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/viva-las-vegas/<p>Just to let you know we are living it up Vegas style! Its only something bloody ridiculous like 43 degrees but its fantastic and Vegas is as glitzy as it's made out to be.</p><p>I will write more thoroughly about what we've been up to when I find a cheaper internet cafe, but a quick roundup of events include hiking in Yosemite National Park and going on a stretched Hummer down the strip, bubbly and all. Awesome.</p><p>Stand by for more....</p>
The Rock2005-08-29T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/the-rock/<p>This morning was difficult. James and I woke almost simultaneously this morning after a very good night's sleep, most definitely helped by the alcohol consumption of last night. The alcohol also assisted one other thing which was our hangovers. Basically Caz and Caroline (our 'roomies') offered to get us our beers (due to certain silly restrictions here we can't get a drink) and despite only buying three to start with (a chilled Saturday night) we all ended up getting hammered.</p>
<p>We headed over to the other USA hostel on Sutter and met up with a load of people in the basement including Ben & Neil (Doncaster), Debbie (High Wycombe), Neil (only bloody Carricktoole - just up the road from Ballycotton in Cork), Paul (Edgbaston) and Tim (Australia). Despite being in San Fran, we havn't actually done any socialising with Americans.</p>
<p>It was a good laugh, the 'Hawaiian Punch' was flowing and there was some drinking games and fussball going on too until the early hours. A good night.</p>
<p>So this morning we gathered up our stuff, left a note for the girls and headed back over to the Commodore (where we are staying for a second night) after some breakfast. James once again managed to make his pancake look like roadkill, but it filled a gap and the coffee helped clear our head. We bumped into a scouse couple as we washed up who were friendly and gave some advice about Vegas and the Strip. There had been a large amount of destination-info swapping last night, although that is fairly hard to recall.</p>
<p>Another cable car ride from the main terminal and we arrived at Pier 41 just in time to catch the ferry to Alcatraz. I was having trouble focusing (not entirely sure why) so we got a hotdog and some liquids inside and by the time we got to the island I was fine.</p>
<p>Alcatraz is a fantastically brooding monstrosity and the audio tour is very comprehensive. The main highlights included Al Capone's cell although one of my personal favourites was the exhibition called Prisoners of Age exhibit which consisted of about 30 or so large (well designed) banners with some stunning portrait photos of convicted murderers, traffickers and kidnappers with personal accounts of the incidents.</p>
<p>The island was fascinating and I took quite a good number of photos. When we finished we headed back to the dock and picked up shrimp and chips for food. On the way back there was a visit to the cable car museum which had the added surprise of being the cable house as well so we watched endless loops of cable being recycled around the city.</p>
<p>Tomorrow we are off to Yosemite and the likes. Organised travelling here we come...</p>
Day Two2005-08-28T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/day-two/<p>We got two new room mates last night - two girls from south London. We don't know too much about them as we had already gone to bed before they arrived. James slept badly, but I was ok. By the time we got up everyone else had gone, but it was still only 8am (ish).</p><p>We decided to do a foot tour today through Chinatown. Lack of take-up had meant there was no guided tour, but we set off and managed a good few miles more on yesterday. That isn't to say my legs weren't killing me after the shock to my muscles yesterday, but it gave us to get a better idea of the city. We dad as the Americans do and took coffee on the payment in little Italy - James became part of some passing tour making conversation with the thirty or so tourists peering through the window of our coffee shop. After we headed up the hill to the Coit Tower which is a white by Lord of the Rings-esque structure at the highest point in the city. Good views was followed by a scenic descent back down the steep face of the rock through some fantastically well groomed gardens and into the North Beach area.</p>
<p>Absolutely craving food by this point we went to Pier 39 and grabbed burgers at a little cafe. By this time we were feeling fairly well-exercised but carried on along the sea front via some old maritime sights - steam boats/ferries/WW2 Submarines and the like, finalised with a visit to the free maritime museum.</p>
<p>After all this we just sat overlooking the bay and sunned ourselves until we'd had enough and headed back to the tram stop. Despite thinking an early get-away would be beneficial by avoiding the queue we had encountered yesterday we were bitterly disappointed to find the queue was twice as long. I was even more bitterly disappointed to be heckled by what happened to be a friendly stall keeper as I walked past "<em>Hey, young lady, young lady... young man!</em>" . Turns out that my bag was open and he was just being nice (we were ignoring him to start with as we thought he was trying to flog something). Anyway, being compared to a girl amused James a lot, but I found rather annoying.</p><p>As we waited in the queue today we listened in part to a blues sax player and in part to a group of US girls exchanging in a traditional American "<em>Oh my God!</em>" conversation.</p>
<p>About two hours later we finally got aboard a tram and even this journey was disturbed by filming of something or other and the cameramen got the tram to go back and forth for a few minutes to get the right of of us all waving and pulling faces through the windows.</p>
<p>Once past Union Square we got off, and took a little walk along one of the bigger streets. America is a vibrant country and we were pleased to find some traditional violence kick off right next to us as we walked the street. Aluminium fold away chairs flew, trestle tables were hurled through the air and blows were exchanged in a plume of chess pieces as two old guys who had previously been engaged in a roadside chess game engaged themselves in full scale pavement war. Awesome. It provided much entertainment for the passers by and I never expected to see such a full on confrontation over a game of chess. As we walked back past the scene five minutes later they (and their possies) were clearing up the debris of the fallout.</p>
<p>Back in the hostel now we are going to grab some food in a minute. Think it's going to be a themed 50s diner around the corner. We are both dying for an elusive beer.</p>
In Frisco2005-08-27T00:00:00Zhttps://andyhiggs.uk/posts/in-frisco/<p>Probably using a nickname which the locals totally disapprove of, James and I have arrived in San Francisco. It's been pretty cool so far, jet lag hasn't quite set in and our flight was OK as they didn't decide to plant any screaming kids near us.</p>
<p>Our taxi from the airport was driving by Ray, who reminded me of Ray Charles, which really as comparisons go, he shouldn't be driving anything. We arrived late afternoon at the Commodore where our tour will leave on Monday. They couldn't supply us with a room on Sunday so we stayed our first night and will be staying Sunday night there but we are now residing in a hostel around the corner. We are sharing with two Germans whom we haven't met yet, but that adds to the excitement.</p>
<p>We thought an early start would be good and got ourselves down to Union Square by about 8am. We caught one of those famous street trams down to Fisherman's Wharf and booked our boat trip to Alcatraz for Sunday as all the tickets for today had gone (we were told if we got there early enough we could get one of the unreserved tickets). Once this was done we grabbed breakfast at some cheap cafe - a heavily grease impregnated burrito) before hiring bikes to go on a day trip around the coast. 16 miles later and we had gone over the golden gate bridge (spectacular), visited a civil war fort (think Fort Boyard without the breasts) and seen some pretty impressive houses.</p>
<p>People seem to be friendlier than I remember from Seattle a couple of years ago, however there was a bit of a push to get on the less-than-hourly ferry with it's bike limit of 25 and a queue of well over 50.</p>
<p>After getting back we wondered about the wharf a while longer before getting into a queue for a tram home. Unfortunately there was some delay and we ended up hanging around for ages. There was some entertainment provided, but most of the amusement provided since we got here has been the sound/look of other English people making themselves obvious tourists. James and I have both become paranoid about using the words "Cheers", "Mate" and "Ta".</p>
<p>Some other things of interest were that we have found that they are phasing out SubClub tickets over here, so using the standard law of physics - "Everything they get in the US we get sooner or later" means that you need to start cashing in on your free subs when you can. This is a public service announcement.</p>
<p>Also there was a fantastic excuse for a street performer working by the docks today. All his was doing was crouching on the pavement clutching a load of branches and posing as a bush, then jumping out on unsuspecting passers by. Amusing, but really just an excuse to scare the crap out of tourists.</p>
<p>James found a store which I was immediately wary of. Anywhere that uses that genuine old-style version of the word
<em>Shoppe </em>is clearly worth avoiding and indeed it was. We left fairly quickly and found ourselves watching the resident sea lions on the other side of the pier. All good.</p>
<p>Apart from the fact that today has marked the most exercise I have probably done since I left school it has also been quite entertaining. I think there is some national obligation for everyone around here to jog (there are bloody millions of them) and federal law that they own an iPod.</p>
<p>Looking forward to a tour of the city tomorrow, assuming it goes ahead - we need another three people to sign up.</p>
<p>For anyone interested we are 9 hours behind and the movie on the plane Monster in Law was mediocre.</p>