# Traveller's Tales — full content for LLM consumption # 24,228 photographs · 60 countries · 161 journal entries · 245 banknotes · 1991–2026 # Photographs & words © Bradley P. Robinson ## Galleries - Botswana 1992 — 1992: 10 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/botswana/1992/) - Botswana 2003 — 2003: 228 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/botswana/2003/) - Burundi 1992 — 1992: 27 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/burundi/1992/) - Malawi 1992 — 1992: 25 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/malawi/1992/) - Malaysia 1993 — 1993: 29 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/malaysia/1993/) - New Zealand 1993 — 1993: 123 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/newzealand/1993/) - Russia 1997 — 1997: 92 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/russia/1997/) - Singapore 2005 — 2005: 103 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/singapore/2005/) - South Africa 2003 — 2003: 141 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/southafrica/2003/) - Tanzania 1992 — 1992: 13 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/tanzania/1992/) - Thailand 1993 — 1993: 99 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/thailand/1993/) - Türkiye 1995 — 1995: 110 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/turkey/1995/) - Uganda 1992 — 1992: 6 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/uganda/1992/) - Uruguay 1997 — 1997: 37 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/uruguay/1997/) - Zaire 1992 — 1992: 69 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/zaire/1992/) - Zimbabwe 1992 — 1992: 32 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/zimbabwe/1992/) - Hong Kong 1993 — 1993: 18 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/hongkong/1993/) - Luxembourg 1998 — 1998: 23 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/luxembourg/1998/) - Zambia 1992 — 1992: 4 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/zambia/1992/) - Vietnam 2009 — Halong Bay: 511 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/vietnam/2009/halong-bay/) - Vietnam 2009 — Saigon: 146 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/vietnam/2009/saigon/) - Vietnam 2009 — Hanoi: 209 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/vietnam/2009/hanoi/) - Australia 2005 — Sydney: 66 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/australia/2005/sydney/) - Australia 2024 — Sydney: 28 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/australia/2024/sydney/) - Belgium 1996 — Brugges: 25 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/belgium/1996/brugges/) - Argentina 1997 — Buenos Aires: 45 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/argentina/1997/buenos-aires/) - Bangladesh 1993 — Prime Minister of Nepal: 3 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/bangladesh/1993/) - Brazil 2005 — 2005: 151 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/brazil/2005/rio/) - Brazil 2005 — Salvador: 124 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/brazil/2005/salvador/) - Burma 2001 — Found Along the Way: 15 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/burma/2001/cool-stuff/) - Argentina 1997 — Iguazu Falls: 60 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/argentina/1997/iguazu-falls/) - Brazil 2005 — Island of Morro de Sao Paulo: 75 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/brazil/2005/morro-de-sao-paulo/) - Burma 2001 — Bagan: 388 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/burma/2001/bagan/) - Burma 2001 — Rangoon: 100 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/burma/2001/rangoon/) - Burma 2001 — Inle Lake: 45 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/burma/2001/inle-lake/) - North Korea 2008 — Kaesong: 50 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/northkorea/2008/kaesong/) - Burma 2001 — Mount Popa: 38 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/burma/2001/popa/) - Cambodia 2009 — Sihanoukville: 231 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cambodia/2009/sihanoukville/) - China 2005 — Beijing: 58 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2005/beijing/) - Cambodia 2009 — Siem Reap: 684 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cambodia/2009/siem-reap/) - China 2005 — Great Wall: 60 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2005/great-wall/) - China 2006 — Beijing Summer Palace: 66 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2006/summer-palace/) - China 2006 — Great Wall: 96 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2006/great-wall/) - China 2006 — Beijing Forbidden City: 147 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2006/forbidden-city/) - China 2006 — Lama Temple: 130 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2006/lama-temple/) - China 2006 — Beijing: 327 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2006/beijing/) - China 2006 — Shanghai: 126 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/china/2006/shanghai/) - Cuba 2001 — Havana: 35 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2001/havana/) - Cuba 2009 — 2009: 489 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2009/reynald/) - Cuba 2001 — Trinidad: 271 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2001/trinidad/) - Cuba 2009 — Havana: 135 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2009/havana/) - Cuba 2009 — Trinidad: 254 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2009/trinidad/) - Cuba 1996 — Varadero: 52 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/1996/varadero/) - Cuba 1996 — Havana: 43 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/1996/havana/) - Cuba 2009 — Found Along the Way: 16 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2009/cool-stuff/) - Egypt 1992 — 1992: 98 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/egypt/1992/) - France 1991 — Paris Catacombs: 23 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/1991/) - Guatemala 2003 — Tikal: 130 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/guatemala/2003/tikal/) - Guatemala 2003 — Flores: 89 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/guatemala/2003/flores/) - Greece 1998 — Mykonos: 121 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/greece/1998/mykonos/) - Guatemala 2003 — Antigua: 47 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/guatemala/2003/antigua/) - Hungary 1991 — Budapest: 49 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/hungary/1991/budapest/) - Italy 2001 — Venice: 99 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/italy/2001/venice/) - Italy 2002 — Venice: 54 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/italy/2002/venice/) - Nepal 1993 — Found Along the Way: 4 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/nepal/1993/cool-stuff/) - Nepal 1993 — Kathmandu Valley: 96 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/nepal/1993/kathmandu-valley/) - Nepal 1993 — Himalayas: 66 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/nepal/1993/mountains/) - Portugal 1998 — Tavira: 60 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/portugal/1998/tavira/) - Portugal 1998 — Lisbon: 50 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/portugal/1998/lisbon/) - Peru 2010 — Cuzco: 144 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/peru/2010/cuzco/) - Singapore 1993 — Singapore: 18 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/singapore/1993/) - South Korea 2005 — Seoul: 35 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/southkorea/2005/) - Sri Lanka 2005 — Colombo: 186 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/srilanka/2005/colombo/) - South Korea 2008 — Busan: 80 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/southkorea/2008/busan/) - Sri Lanka 2005 — Elephant Sanctuary: 206 photographs — places: colombo (https://www.traveller.org/countries/srilanka/2005/) - Sri Lanka 2005 — Sri Lanka: 138 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/srilanka/2005/overview/) - United Kingdom 1991 — London: 106 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedkingdom/1991/) - Peru 2010 — Inca Trail: 1162 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/peru/2010/inca-trail/) - South Korea 2008 — Seoul: 29 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/southkorea/2008/seoul/) - United Kingdom 1992 — Kilburn, London: 19 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedkingdom/1992/london/) - United Kingdom 1993 — York: 31 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedkingdom/1993/york/) - United Kingdom 1992 — N.Ireland & Stonehenge: 34 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedkingdom/1992/nireland/) - Uruguay 1997 — Colonia de Sacramento: 42 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/uruguay/1997/colonia/) - Uruguay 1997 — Maldonado: 98 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/uruguay/1997/maldonado/) - United Kingdom 1993 — Edinburgh & London: 63 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedkingdom/1993/christmas/) - Uruguay 1997 — Punta Ballena: 21 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/uruguay/1997/puntaballenna/) - Zambia 1993 — Bungy Jumping: 9 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/zambia/1993/bungy/) - Zambia 1993 — Victoria Falls: 26 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/zambia/1993/) - India 1998 — Jodhpur: 38 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1998/jodhpur/) - India 1998 — New Delhi: 67 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1998/delhi/) - India 1998 — Gokarna, Karnataka: 165 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1998/gokarna/) - India 1998 — Jaisalmer, Rajasthan: 209 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1998/jaisalmer/) - India 1998 — Indian Cities: 19 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1998/general/) - India 2005 — New Delhi: 82 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2005/new-delhi/) - India 2005 — Qutub Minar, Delhi: 32 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2005/qutub-minar-delhi/) - India 2005 — Gurgaon: 38 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2005/gurgaon/) - India 1993 — Agra: 53 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/agra/) - India 1993 — Udaipur, Rajasthan: 9 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/udaipur-rajasthan/) - India 1993 — Jaisalmer, Rajasthan: 36 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/jaisalmer-rajasthan/) - India 1993 — Mysore, Karnataka: 36 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/mysore-karnataka/) - India 1993 — Views From the Train: 17 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/views-from-the-train/) - India 1993 — Ranakpur Temple, Rajahstan: 22 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/ranakpur-temple-rajahstan/) - India 1993 — Gokarn, Karnataka: 32 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/gokarn-karnataka/) - India 1993 — Kerala: 29 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/kerala/) - India 1993 — Goa: 15 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/goa/) - India 1993 — Bhuj, Gujurat: 21 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/bhuj-gujurat/) - India 1993 — Varanasi: 9 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/varanasi/) - India 1993 — New Delhi: 5 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/new-delhi/) - India 1993 — Cochin: 17 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/cochin/) - India 1993 — Ajanta & Elorra Caves: 24 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/ajanta-elorra-caves/) - India 2007 — Kovalam Beach: 42 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/kovalam/) - India 2007 — Kerala: 323 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/kerala/) - India 2007 — Udaipur: 254 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/udaipur/) - India 2007 — Agra: 187 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/agra/) - India 2007 — Goa (older roll): 61 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/goa-old/) - India 2007 — Goa: 88 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/goa/) - India 2007 — Bombay: 69 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/bombay/) - India 2007 — New Delhi: 72 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/delhi/) - India 2007 — Ranakpur Temple & Kumbalgarh Fort: 140 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/ranakpur/) - India 1993 — Found Along the Way: 71 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/1993/cool-stuff/) - Indonesia 1993 — Nias Island, Sumatra: 73 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/nias-island-sumatra/) - Indonesia 1993 — Komodo Island: 54 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/komodo-island/) - India 2007 — Kanyakumari: 168 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2007/kanyakumari/) - Indonesia 1993 — Kelimutu: 32 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/kelimutu/) - Indonesia 1993 — Moni & Flores Islands: 24 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/moni-flores-islands/) - Indonesia 1993 — Bukittinggi Market & Buffalo Fights: 26 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/bukittinggi-market-buffalo-fights/) - Indonesia 1993 — Bora Budor & Flight to Flores: 24 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/bora-budor-flight-to-flores/) - Indonesia 1993 — Yogyakarta, Java: 11 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/yogyakarta-java/) - Indonesia 1993 — Ferry to Sumbawa: 11 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/ferry-to-sumbawa/) - Indonesia 1993 — Lombok Island: 2 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/1993/lombok-island/) - Thailand 1997 — Bangkok: 25 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/thailand/1997/) - Czech Republic 2006 — Prague: 51 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/czech/2006/) - Thailand 2010 — 2010: 292 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/thailand/2010/) - Spain 2019 — 2019: 312 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/spain/2019/) - France 2011 — Vitry le Francois & Villotte: 88 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2011/vitry/) - Greece 2012 — Mykonos: 71 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/greece/2012/mykonos/) - Canada 2011 — Montreal: 60 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/canada/2011/) - United States 2012 — Oahu, Hawaii: 16 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedstates/2012/) - United States 2012 — Puerto Rico: 120 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedstates/2012/puertorico/) - United States 2014 — Aspen, CO: 41 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedstates/2014/aspen/) - United States 2013 — Joshua Tree: 15 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedstates/2013/joshuatree/) - Indonesia 2011 — Bali & the Gili Islands: 533 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/indonesia/2011/) - France 2014 — Queen Elizabeth in Paris: 11 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2014/queen/) - France 2014 — Villotte & Vitry le Francois: 70 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2014/villotte/) - France 2014 — Paris: 114 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2014/paris/) - France 2014 — Basque Photos from Friends: 284 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2014/tony/) - France 2014 — Basque Region: 87 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2014/basque/) - United States 2014 — Lake Tahoe: 12 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedstates/2014/laketahoe/) - Nepal 2014 — Kathmandu: 769 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/nepal/2014/kathmandu/) - Nepal 2014 — Pokhara: 95 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/nepal/2014/pokhara/) - Thailand 2014 — Bangkok: 85 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/thailand/2014/bangkok/) - Nepal 2014 — Himalaya Flight: 70 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/nepal/2014/himalaya-flight/) - Martinique 2015 — 2015: 153 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/martinique/2015/) - Cuba 2015 — Trinidad: 213 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2015/trinidad/) - Cuba 2015 — Havana: 235 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cuba/2015/havana/) - Belgium 2016 — 2016: 53 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/belgium/2016/) - Mexico 2015 — Chichén Itzá: 75 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2015/chichen-itza/) - France 2016 — Paris: 89 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2016/paris/) - France 2016 — Etang Mal Tournee: 50 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2016/etang-mal-tournee/) - France 2016 — Vitry le Francois: 67 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2016/vitry-le-francois/) - India 2016 — Agra: 295 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2016/agra/) - India 2016 — Agra Train Station: 55 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2016/agra-train-station/) - India 2016 — Indian Wedding: 38 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2016/indian-wedding/) - Italy 2016 — Rome: 912 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/italy/2016/rome/) - Italy 2016 — Capri Island: 79 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/italy/2016/capri-island/) - India 2016 — New Delhi: 424 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2016/new-delhi/) - United States 2016 — New Orleans: 247 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedstates/2016/new-orleans/) - United Kingdom 2016 — London: 93 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/unitedkingdom/2016/london/) - Philippines 2016 — El Nido Pangulasian: 576 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/philippines/2016/el-nido-pangulasian/) - Japan 2017 — 2017: 212 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/japan/2017/) - Philippines 2016 — Boracay: 99 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/philippines/2016/boracay/) - Türkiye 2018 — 2018: 129 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/turkey/2018/) - India 2018 — Varanasi: 436 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2018/varanasi/) - India 2018 — Jaisalmer: 255 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2018/jaisalmer/) - India 2018 — Thar Desert: 136 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2018/thar-desert/) - India 2018 — Mumbai: 197 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2018/mumbai/) - India 2018 — India Trains: 84 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2018/india-trains/) - India 2018 — Agra: 29 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2018/agra/) - Morocco 2021 — Desert Camp: 205 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/morocco/2021/desert-camp/) - Morocco 2021 — Atlas Mountains: 153 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/morocco/2021/atlas-mountains/) - Morocco 2021 — Marrakesh: 92 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/morocco/2021/marrakesh/) - India 2018 — Jodhpur: 239 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/india/2018/jodhpur/) - Cayman Islands 2022 — 2022: 51 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/cayman-islands/2022/) - Morocco 2021 — Fez: 147 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/morocco/2021/fez/) - Mexico 2024 — Extreme Ziplines: 227 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2024/vallartaadventures/) - Türkiye 2022 — 2022: 377 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/turkey/2022/) - Croatia 2018 — 2018: 171 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/croatia/2018/) - Mexico 2026 — Oaxaca Town: 126 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2026/oaxaca-town/) - Mexico 2026 — Oaxaca Cooking: 45 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2026/oaxaca-cooking/) - Mexico 2026 — Oaxaca Monte Alban: 62 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2026/oaxaca-monte-alban/) - Mexico 2026 — Oaxaca Puerto Escondido: 87 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2026/oaxaca-puerto-escondido/) - Germany 2026 — Munich: 40 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/germany/2026/munich/) - Australia 1993 — Melbourne: 25 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/australia/1993/melbourne/) - Brazil 2004 — 2004: 31 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/brazil/2004/) - Spain 2026 — Madrid: 98 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/spain/2026/madrid/) - Spain 2026 — Barcelona: 91 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/spain/2026/barcelona/) - Netherlands 2026 — Amsterdam: 84 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/netherlands/2026/amsterdam/) - Ireland 2019 — Galway: 3 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/ireland/2019/galway/) - Ireland 2019 — Dublin: 1 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/ireland/2019/dublin/) - Australia 2019 — Sydney: 1 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/australia/2019/sydney/) - France 2019 — Champagne: 11 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/france/2019/champagne/) - Japan 2017 — Tokyo teamLab: 43 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/japan/2017/tokyo-teamlab/) - Japan 2020 — Tokyo Sumo Wrestling: 20 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/japan/2020/tokyo-sumo-wrestling/) - Japan 2020 — Tokyo: 93 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/japan/2020/tokyo/) - Japan 2024 — tokyo: 79 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/japan/2024/tokyo/) - Japan 2024 — Tokyo IdeaLab: 54 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/japan/2024/tokyo-idealab/) - Japan 2019 — Kyoto: 129 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/japan/2019/kyoto/) - Mexico 2026 — Tequila: 68 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2026/tequila/) - Mexico 2025 — Mexico City: 141 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/mexico/2025/mexico-city/) - Spain 2026 — Basílica de la Sagrada Família, Barcelona: 133 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/spain/2026/basilica-de-la-sagrada-familia-barcelona/) - Netherlands 2026 — Dordrecht: 21 photographs (https://www.traveller.org/countries/netherlands/2026/dordrecht/) ## Journal — Letters Home (full text) ### Earthquake in Egypt – The Beginnings Date: October 12th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/earthquake-in-egypt-the-beginnings/ 12th October 1992, London, 3:00 p.m. GMT British Announcer for Capital FM radio station: “For Capital FM, this is the three o’clock news. One of the most powerful earthquakes in Egypt’s history rocked the city of Cairo today. The medium-strength quake, 5.9 on the Richter scale, leveled thousands of homes throughout the region. The epicenter of the twenty second tremor was ten miles south of Cairo near the ancient capital of Memphis.” 21 Kingsley Road, Kilburn, London, 5:00 p.m. GMT As soon as word of the earthquake had broken, both Sarah and I would listen to the radio reports each hour and watch the news reports on the BBC for more information. Both of us were flying into Cairo the following day, but with this natural disaster we didn’t know what to do. The BBC reporters we saw always seemed to be standing outside a building which had been reduced to rubble. I’d arranged to meet my college friend, Rich in Cairo, so if I didn’t leave for Cairo I might miss him. After a call to Egypt Air, who said that the flights were still leaving, there wasn’t much more we could do than listen to the radio for updates. The Egypt Air agent said to me there weren’t many deaths; just five or six – mainly babies. About two hours after the quake had struck the news agencies were reporting figures like 500 dead and over 4,000 injured; people stampeding over each other in the streets due to fear, etc. After experiencing the Great California earthquake of 1989 and seeing how much work it took to restore San Francisco, I didn’t know what to expect heading to Cairo, a definite Third World country. 21 Kingsley Road, Kilburn, London, 9:00 p.m. GMT My parents rang to find out if I was still leaving, followed by a call from Melinda telling me to get in and get out of Cairo, Sarah’s parents and even Rich’s mother! 21 Kingsley Road, Kilburn, London, 2:00 a.m. GMT The radio broadcasts were announcing that President Mubarak was considering appealing for international aid to assist Egypt’s problems due to the disaster – that worried me. I finally made it to bed, a little concerned, and excited I was leaving, but I managed to get to sleep. Sarah and I were about to head into a situation we really didn’t know anything about – the unknown. But that’s what traveling is all about; it’s having the courage to venture into the unknown, and learn what you can while you’re there. Here I was leaving the next morning to go explore our planet, into what (at the time) was The Unknown. Here’s the full news story as reported by the London Times. Indian newspaper quote: “Bombay, 2 Jan 93 – A killer earthquake struck near Cairo, Egypt on October 12, leaving at least 557 dead and over 6,600 injured. The quake damaged hundreds of ancient Egyptian monuments. Stones fell from the Giza Pyramids but the Sphinx appeared unscathed. Damage was estimated at $600 million.” ### Arriving in Cairo Date: October 13th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/arriving-in-cairo/ Cairo, Egypt – Finally! It’s begun! I flew into Cairo on October 12th and met Rich, who’s been traveling on the Continent for the last six weeks, at the Nile Hilton at midnight. Sat there and caught up with Rich until 3:45 A.M. when Sarah, our flatmate from New Zealand, arrived. I booked her her ticket, but didn’t get a chance to fully investigate her ticket as much as I should have. It turns out her flight left London and flew to Bucharest (Romania) then after a layover she boarded a second flight Bucharest to Cairo – Whoops! Sarah’s been a good sport about my mix up – we have been flatting in London together for the last year so we’ve grown close enough to overlook things like my not really knowing what I was talking about when I told her to pay for her Air Romania flight before I had my ticket. Caption — type it here Sarah had evidently had a few bottles of rum to drink with a couple of Australians during the two hour lay over in Romania and she was definitely showing the effects of a binge. She sat and chatted with us in the Hilton for a few minutes before excusing herself to go to the women’s loo to be sick. Once she was finished we got a cab outside, complete with a driver who didn’t speak much English and absolutely refused to take us to the hotel we’d requested. We ended up driving all over Cairo with our driver depositing us at various hotels that belonged to his brother or cousin or someone. They all wanted insane prices like US$30 per night, so we weren’t going to have anything to do with them whatsoever. He finally dropped us off at a hotel we’d requested only after all three of us were screaming as loudly as possible at our driver. (Welcome to the Third World.) He dropped us off outside this backpacker’s place where we were met by yet another Egyptian dude. He led us into the elevator, sans door, and complete with skull and crossbones over the door stating that it would be detrimental to one’s health if more than three people got into the elevator at one time. I guess the Egyptian guy couldn’t decipher the 1 X 1 foot death symbol because he climbed into the elevator with us and tried to grope Sarah the entire ride up to the Fourth floor of the building. We got our room and laid down to sleep just as the first set of Islamic mosques was firing up their loud speakers to chant the day’s first prayer. Our room wasn’t bad – three beds, a fan and a balcony overlooking the street. Of course it was 5:00 o’clock in the morning so all I could spot was the rooster in the next building over. He looked as though he was ready to start a crowing. ### Spice Markets of Cairo Date: October 14th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/spice-markets-of-cairo/ Cairo, Egypt – Our first day in Cairo we headed over to the grand bazaar for the day, and the first thing that I noticed was that it exemplified everything I’d ever imagined about Egypt; the hustle and bustle, small back alleys full of spices and materials, the people selling their wares, and the tea boys making their way through the crowd delivering the merchant’s their afternoon tea. I’d heard about the main market from Melinda, and now that I was there I was seeing the images she’d described to me during the months previous. We wandered through the throngs of people – gawking at the women dressed in their robes (head to toe, showing only the eyes) while balancing a huge basket of vegetables or other items on their heads. We made our way into a small back alley which was solely full of spice sellers. The smell wafted down the narrow corridor and my nose couldn’t distinguish one smell out of the fifty or so that I was inhaling. The Egyptian sellers kept putting small amounts of the spices in our hands to smell. As Westerners here everyone knows we’re not locals (obviously, nor could we even pretend to pass for one) so they’d call out to us as we walked by their stalls. Buy this, try that – it was coming from every direction. I can’t say I was particularly disturbed by any of it, it was just so different from anything I’d ever experienced before. While we were walking around the city I noticed all the Egyptian men were staring at Sarah. Granted she’s a 6 foot tall, beautiful Western woman walking down the street, and she turned a lot of heads. She was rather content to know that Rich and I were usually on either side of her so no Egyptian men could alter their paths of walking and “accidentally” bump into her and rub her chest. We did meet other women who’d had that type of problem, but not Sarah – she was in good hands. The Egyptians were all generally very friendly. When we were looking for a monument or a certain street there’s always be some man who’d come up to us and help us with the directions. The funny thing was that they’d always give us the directions, then, after they’d helped us, ask us to come visit their perfume shop “just down the street”. It was always the same. The children there all wanted to practice their English, so sometimes when we would be walking down the street the kids nearby would scream “Hello!” at the top of their lungs. We’d just appease them and call Hi back to them. I know now as I write this that I was a bit nervous being there and wasn’t going to be holding any conversations with anyone without a reason. As I traveled more and more and got used to being stared at I would talk to whoever was nearby; they would always be delighted to be able to practice their English. ### Climbing the Pyramids – A Step-by-step Guide Date: October 15th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/climbing-the-pyramids-a-step-by-step-guide/ Cairo, Egypt – We were all exhausted from going to bed at 4: 00 a.m. yesterday morning and from walking miles all over the Market that we crashed out at 9:00 p.m. last night to the incessant honking of the traffic on the street. Egyptian drivers love their horns, and I finally figured out that they use their horns instead of a turning signal. You see, if they’re going to change lanes they’ll just hold down the horn to inform the drivers in the lane to be merged into to tell them he’s on the way and if you don’t want a dent in your car you should make way. We had planned to wake up rather early this morning – big plans – so when 4:30 a.m. rolled around Rich got up and tried to wake Sarah and I up. His nudging didn’t get us out of bed, although both Sarah and I were awake, so he walked over to our balcony doors and fully opened them up to the world. I looked outside and could see the stars above, and the one thing that struck me was that we could now hear the mellow chanting/singing of the morning prayer. Both Sarah and I were awe struck, for we’d been unable to hear the prayer before the doors were opened, but once they were opened we could hear the singing. It was so moving and so peaceful. It was really pleasant to hear this man singing, for they usually give the mic to the one who’s usually tone deaf. Sarah and I listened to the prayer for five minutes or so, then we rousted ourselves out of the bed, for we had a date with a pyramid that morning. Ever since I met Melinda, our Californian friend who has traveled the world over, I remember her telling me a story about her traveling with her family and actually getting the chance to climb the pyramids outside Cairo. I’d asked her to tell me the story a few times, so with that information files up in my brain, my group of three decided to go out there and see if we could climb the pyramids as well. Technically it’s forbidden to climb the pyramids, but if you pay the right guy you might get away with it – we were out to try our damnedest. Down to the street and got a cab out to Giza where the pyramids sit. As we approached the main gate these two young boys, about 10 and 12 years respectively, came out of an alley and flagged the taxi down and told us the pyramids were closed. Rich asked if they could guide us to the pyramids and the boys said it was possible. We got out and followed the boys down the alley into this courtyard where one of the boys ran to retrieve his father. The father appeared and explained to us that we had to rent his horses to ride over to the pyramids because they were too far to walk to on foot. He said he’d lead us there through the locals’ village – the back way – then he’d take care of the guards while we climbed to the top of Cheops, the largest pyramid of the three. We mounted his horses and started riding through the local village. The sun was just beginning to come up, so when we ascended this hill and started down the road behind the village I could see the Sphinx sitting mysteriously through the haze across the valley. We were almost to the base of the pyramid when Sarah’s horse lost its footing and fell down. I turned around to see Sarah picking herself up off the asphalt, rubbing her bum. She was a bit startled, and suffered a bruise on her thigh but lived through it. Luckily we were there, at the base of the largest pyramid, Cheops, so the rest of us dismounted and we haggled with the father regarding how much we’d pay him to bribe the guards. We agreed on E£50 (US$15), paid the dude then as we walked towards the pyramid’s base the father explained to us that we had to leave our small packs on a stone about a quarter of the way up. He said it was dangerous for us to climb up with our packs down because they might cause us to fall off when we were coming down. Good reason. Off we went, each climbing up the first base stone, each which was a little taller than my waist. Yes, we were really climbing one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Cheops Pyramid (notice the small people at its base) 122K We climbed up an eight of the way up and I could hear the guards screaming “Hello” “Hello”. I looked down and could see the guards running towards the corner of the pyramid where we’d started our climb. I watched the father figure we’d paid the money to run over to the guard and give him some cash then walk away. When the second guard started screaming I saw our man run over and slip him some cash to be quiet. Evidently it worked – they didn’t bother us again. Climbing to the top wasn’t particularly hard, just nerve racking because if you took one wrong step you were history. It was incredibly foggy that morning so I couldn’t see the ground after a point, but every once in a while the clouds would part and I could see the ground. having a mild fear of heights didn’t help, for once I could see how high up we really were I just made me more nervous. When we were a quarter of the way up we couldn’t see the ground. The sun was coming up as we were climbing to the top so I stopped and took photos of the sun while clinging to the side of the structure. Amazing experience – where I was, what I was doing, everything. Rich had climbed above and was soon out of sight. Sarah and I were climbing together and about three fourths of the way up we rested and as we were both a bit nervous about climbing we actually discussed whether or not we should climb the entire way to the top. We were nervous from the height and were beginning to wonder about our climb back down – more like whether or not we were going to make it at all. I assumes Rich was already at the top, the sun was coming up, it looked stunning, so Sarah and I persevered and climbed the last bit to the top. Plus if I didn’t go all the way I would never have heard the end of it from Rich – not for the rest of my life. (He did mention that later). Just as we arrived at the top the sun rose up above the cloud layer in the valley so all we could see was our pyramid, the sun & white clouds. It looked like Heaven itself. We sat at the top for a while, discussed whether we were going to die climbing back down, and took pictures with the other pyramid in the background. The clouds parted just enough so we could see the tip of the next pyramid over with a sea of clouds surrounding. Pyramid in the Clouds After a cigarette and more photos we started our descent down. Our guide, who didn’t seem to have it in him to guide us up the pyramid, had explained to us in intricate detail how to climb down without killing ourselves. He said we had to sit down on each stone and slide off it to the next stone below. The reason we couldn’t take our packs was because on the way down the pack would have rubbed on the stone as we lowered ourselves and knocked us off balance and down to our deaths. Fear of Climbing Down The climb back down was actually almost easier than the climb up. We found out later that we’d climbed the equivalent of a 48 story building (450 feet high) – on the outside. It was an incredible experience; a photo of the “Climbing is forbidden” sign was of course mandatory. We wandered around to the other pyramids and over to the Sphinx waiting for the morning haze to burn off so we could get some pictures of the monstrosity we’d just conquered. While waiting, and being the only tourists out there at 7:00 a.m., we had to beat off the camel jockeys with a stick. There was one jockey in particular who kept trying to convince us to go for a ride on “Daisy & Moses”, Mrs. camel and Mr. mule. Daisy & Moses The haze finally lifted enough for us to take photos, then we walked to the main gates to get a cab back to Cairo. We’d been at the pyramids since 5:30 that morning and all had had enough of them for one day. The main gates were crawling with Western tourists, a majority who appeared to be Americans – each mounted atop one of those camels. The place was crawling with tourists and touts – utter chaos. it was a definite change from the serenity we’d experienced all morning when we had the pyramids all to ourselves. We made it back to our hotel for a sleep then wandered around the city for a while, eventually making it to the top of Cairo tower for a birds eye view of the city. Boring. It was getting hot so we headed beck to the hotel to sit out of the heat of the day and that’s when we had our next adventure in Third World accommodation. Our hotel was on the fifth floor and we had to use this elevator that technically shouldn’t have been operational in the first place. Posted outside the elevator door is a big sign with a skull and crossbones painted on it stating “Danger. No more than 3 persons max”. O.K. so we were taking our lives in to our own hands every time we entered this elevator, but when your legs are aching from climbing a pyramid and it’s hotter than hell you aren’t going to concern yourself with a rickety elevator. There was already someone waiting for the elevator so Rich said he’d stay behind while Sarah, I and the German, who’d been waiting went up first. We climbed in and hit the ‘5’ button and the elevator creaked and groaned before beginning its descent. Due to the non-existent standards of Egyptian building safety codes the elevator had no internal door so as we were going up we’d look out this open space onto each floor. If I’d so chosen I could have touched each of the floors as they went past the open door. The only time there was any sort of safety feature to keep the passengers in the ascending box was right when we’d come upon each floor. There was a free standing door (not attached to anything mounted on the floor) that the elevator would line up with once one had reached their destination. I gathered the door was more for keeping people waiting on the floors out of the elevator shaft than keeping the passengers in the elevator. These doors on each floor were self locking and only unlocked when the elevator lined up perfectly so the passengers could exit. These elevator doors are only about 6 feet high, and above that there’s just open space where the elevator shaft is, leaving about 8 feet open space up to the ceiling. On our way up the elevator grunted once again then got stuck on the 4th floor just above one of those locked elevator doors. Wonderful. We pushed all the buttons on the panel (including the alarm button which didn’t work) trying to get the thing started again, but no dice. There were two switches on the panel, but we didn’t rush to try them – we’d talked about them earlier and came to a conclusion like if we switched that the cable in the ceiling holding the elevator up would disengage and we’d go plummeting down to our deaths. I suppose it was kind of ironic that now I needed to use the switch. Both switches didn’t work so now Sarah, the German and I stood there trying to figure out what to do. Of course the elevator had to stop behind one of the protective doors (locked because we were about three feet to high to engage the unlock mechanism) but not high enough to make it easy for us to climb out (easy being the operative word). Virtually anywhere else on the way up there would have been no problem getting out but now we were boxed in behind the bloody door. We ended up climbing through the three foot space above the elevator door, touching things that haven’t been cleaned since the building was built – about the time the Koran was written. I boosted Sarah up, the German boosted me up, then he boosted his guitar up – more important than himself. The adept little kraut climbed over the top of the door just as Rich came running up the stairs to see what was taking so long. Rich had a good giggle when he figured out what we’d had to endure with this Egyptian elevator. ### Egyptian Museum Date: October 16th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/egyptian-museum/ Cairo, Egypt – Today we bummed around Cairo and finally made it to the Egyptian Museum to see Tutankhamen’s treasures. Going to the Egyptian Museum certainly sounds like something innocuous, but there in Egypt it was still a mission of sorts. First of all it sits on the opposite side of Tahir Square, the largest traffic congested section in all of Cairo; ten lanes of traffic (with about two dividers) constantly whizzing past you at suicidal speeds. The traffic lights don’t help, because even if there’s a red light the Egyptians don’t bother to stop, let alone slow down. So, the only way to get across this mess is to pick the narrowest section where the traffic was slowing down a bit and go for it – rather a real life version of that old ‘Frogger’ video game. It took us a while to get used to it, but eventually we caught on. The Egyptians seem to walk out into the middle of the traffic, taking no notice of who’s coming or going. I watched a woman with a four foot long cabinet balanced on her head walk straight off the sidewalk and into the moving traffic, then waltz through the lead foots to the other side of the street unharmed. We, as tourists would start walking then run back to the curb if there was a car coming too close. Finally an Egyptian man came over and told us to just walk out into the street – the traffic would go around us. With that he stepped off into the traffic, but this time we followed him. Well, not really followed him, rather used him as a shield, keeping him on the side of the oncoming traffic. I figured if he got hit the car would be slowing down by the time it took me out. We made it! Every day since then while traveling in the Third World I’d always try to use human shields of locals against the traffic – just in case. Made it to the Egyptian Museum, bought the ‘Foreigners’ tickets then paid an extortive amount for my ‘Camera Ticket’ so I’d be able to take photos. Rich and Sarah made it through the entrance with their day packs but the doorman grabbed me and told me to check it in with the coat room – no bags allowed. I’d seen Egyptians and other people already go through with their bags and there was a huge queue at the baggage check, so I tried a different door, but the doorman caught me again and told me to ditch my bag. At this point a huge French tour group arrived and I was surrounded by a sea of geriatrics, all wearing neon yellow Gilligan type sailors caps (so they’d be identifiable to their tour leader when lost – which was pretty much all the time). The doorman came away from the door and began speaking to the group in broken French. As I was immersed in this group I ducked and headed through the elderlies and through the door into the museum. Let the French people deal with the bag check, not me. The only item that really struck me was the huge gold mask that King Tut was found wearing when he was unearthed. The thing is large, and solid gold; more than I’ve ever seen in one place in my entire life – it was truly stunning. We walked around Cairo a bit that day, then Sarah went to the room while Rich and I went out that evening to get some dinner. We headed to this shop that sells these small buns full of gyros meat, then covered with humus. Plus, they were so cheap we walked in there and, to the cashier’s amazement ordered twelve of them to satisfy our hunger. While we were walking through Cairo that evening I notices that the Egyptians would always look at our shoes. In Cairo there aren’t a lot of clothing boutiques, rather because the women have to cover most of their body from public view the only way for them to accessorize and express themselves is by their shoes. I have never seen as many shoe shops in a row in my entire life than there are in Egypt. The shoes are the way people make snap judgments of each other – the same way we might do it about someone’s car – so the bigger and shinier the shoes the more impressive. We were both wearing our clumpy hiking boots and they definitely caught the eyes of many a passer-by. Rich’s boots had all these shiny silver eyeholes which really caught the locals’ eyes. As we were waiting for our food this Egyptian man jokingly offered Rich two chickens and a camel for his shoes. Many people had asked if he was selling his shoes, but this last offer took the cake. ### Train from Cairo to Aswan Date: October 17th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/train-from-cairo-to-aswan/ Our train ride from Cairo to Aswan was a very interesting experience. We’d booked reserved seats, but when we boarded our carriage there was someone sitting in one of our seats. There was this Egyptian who asked the dude in our seat to move, and when he wouldn’t, all of a sudden, like ten different people were involved in this discussion – plus they were all standing up for us; the foreigners. After much Arabic yapping the seats finally got sorted out. Once we’d all sat down and were beginning to get comfortable Sarah turned to the window and said, “Don’t look now, but there’s a big cockroach that just crawled up the wall and under the window frame.” We asked her if it was necessary to share that information with us. [Hence the birth of the “Things you don’t want to Know” list] The train pulled away and a few stops later heaps of people got on and started putting all their crap in the overhead bins in our carriage. Sarah’s pack was across the aisle up above and one Egyptian slid it farther down the rack to make room for his 15 boxes he was about to put up there. When he’d moved Sarah’s pack he accidentally squashed another local’s bag. I don’t know what was in the smashed bag, but Wow! All hell broke loose. The man whose bag got smashed stood up and started screaming at the top of his lungs at the first dude. Plus, with Egyptians being the busy bodies that they are, at least twenty people in the surrounding area stood up and began screaming at the two men in Arabic. Rather amusing to those of us who didn’t understand a word of the language – seeing these “eyes” dressed in black head to foot yapping away at the two Egyptians. It turns out the dude who did the bag smashing just came into our carriage to store his 15 huge boxes even though he was sitting elsewhere. The Egyptians were seriously getting majorly physical and it took a few locals to pry the original troublemakers apart. We were on and overnight train and at all the major stops (more than 30 seconds) street peddlers would walk down the aisle selling their fruit, plastic combs, etc. Plus, if you got more than one salesman in the carriage at the same time it was utter chaos. Egyptian sellers believe that the volume level of their voices sells more goods. The louder the voice the more stuff he might sell. Wrong. More than one salesman in the carriage at once? They’d have a competition to see who could scream the loudest; each trying to outdo the other. This is all well and good when you’re awake, in fact it offers a twisted type of entertainment for those of us who weren’t used to Third World travel yet. The only problem is at three or four in the morning it’s less than amusing and one begins to wish horrible things, like an acute case of laryngitis, might attack someone nearby. Our train to Aswan took 16 hours and for the last four hours or so the carriage was completely empty except for these two younger Egyptian guys. We were sitting there and these kids asked the tall Egyptian (for the fourth time) if he wanted to buy nuts and the dude pulled out a knife and said in Arabic something to the effect of “Get the hell out of here – I don’t want any nuts.” The kids hightailed it out of there, never to bother us again. We all had a good laugh after that. The two dudes were about our age, one really tall the other shorter, smartly dressed. They weren’t friends; they’d met on the train down. The smaller guy’s name was Tarek (who’d been sitting next to me for the duration of the ride). and the taller one’s name was something like Havall (we’ll call him Keshava for short). Tarek worked for a hotel and was in the water business while Keshava was a student at Cairo University. Neither spoke much English, so it took a lot of pantomime and patience to communicate. We sat with them for a while and by the time we got to Aswan they wanted to help us to make sure we’d get to our hotel. (This is where it gets weird.) Tarek was way mellow, but Keshava wanted to hang around us, etc., which made us put up our guard. We all got a cab into town and after looking at one hotel that was too expensive I went scouting around for a cheaper place with Tarek. I’d handed Rich my day pack when we’d gotten out of the cab so I could put my big pack on, but I forgot to get it back from him. I went off with Tarek and found a hotel while Rich and Sarah waited with Keshava a few blocks away. I went and got them and we all checked into this hotel in the center of the main market. When I returned to lead them to the hotel Keshava was no where to be found (not that I was really looking for him anyway). When we’d gotten all our stuff up into the room I realized that my day pack (containing my plane tickets, camera, and glasses) was missing. Rich said he hadn’t seen it since getting out of the cab. With the realization of having to get all this shit replaced Rich and I ran back through the market to the spot where we’d been dropped off, and we’d left in such a hurry that Rich hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. The pack wasn’t where we’d been dropped off, so Rich and I tried to piece together what had happened when out of nowhere Keshava appeared telling us to go back to the hotel with him – he said he knew where the pack was. He also said to get back to the hotel because Rich was out in public without a shirt on – I guess that’s a no-no in Egypt.. Weird – he’d disappeared before, then when we’re out in the market looking for my pack he appears and says he knows where it is. We went back to the hotel and once we were in the lobby Keshava went running off into the market. He returned a minute later carrying my pack, which looked like it had been dragged through the scum of the market. My pack had been locked shut, so all the thief could manage to pull out of it was the strap to my camera, which was hanging out of the pack when I received it. Keshava handed me my pack and asked me to open it to make sure all my stuff was still in it. It was. I thanked Keshava (even though he may have been the one to steal the pack in the first place) and tried to give him E£10 (US$3.25) for returning my pack, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with that. We talked for a minute and as I was going into the hotel Keshava called me outside and said if I gave him the E£10 he’d show us around the bazaar in a few hours’ time. Since I’d tried to give him the money earlier I willingly handed him a tenner and told him we’d meet him later. After talking with Rich and Sarah (immediately after the incident) we still don’t know if Keshava took the pack to try to get money out of us, or if he really did rescue my pack from some other thief. To say the least it made us all a little nervous going out with Keshava later, so we went to the bazaar early with some other people we’d met and left him to his own devices. Keshava was a nice dude, and I still can’t tell if he took the pack or not, but the fact that he refused the money I tried to give him immediately after the pack was returned sways my opinion towards the honesty side. We shall never know his true intentions, but I wish I could – maybe then I wouldn’t be so suspicious so much of the time while traveling. (Written at the end of the second week of travel. The view changed dramatically after India). Immediately outside the entrance to our hotel was the outer fringe of the market, the street teeming with vegetable sales people, along with a few turkey salesmen down on the corner. Wandered around the bazaar which was jam packed with fruit and vegetable sellers, animals, and various other vendors. A short way down the road was the main bazaar where the fabric, spice, and curio salesmen did their business. We came across a tailor so I paid her E£10 to tailor me a pair of thin cotton pants which would leave me cool yet keep the never ending supplies of flies off my legs. The sun was beginning to go down so we headed down to the Nile and watched the sun set over the water – magnificent. Ate at one of the many floating restaurants on the water then headed back up to our hotel. Here are a few of the things you could order at Emy’s restaurant on the Nile: CAPATCHINO (Cappuccino) for E£1.00 or AXPRESSO (Espresso) for E£2.00. On the way home we stopped and booked ourselves onto a minivan, leaving the next morning for the world famous Abu Simbel temple, four hours south through the desert near the Sudanese border. ### Abu Simbel Date: October 18th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/abu-simbel/ Abu Simbel, Egypt – We had to wake up at 3:45 this morning to make the 4:00 departure time down to the temple. We drove what seemed like forever through the desert, and I can honestly say there is absolutely nothing between Aswan and the temple. When you think of the remotest, most desolate wasteland, desert-type environment with nothing for miles around, that’s what this drive was like. Made it to Abu Simbel by 7:30 a.m. (to miss the oppressive heat of the day) and began our walk around the monument. This thing is massive, plus it was carved into the side of a mountain about 210 meters away from where it sits today. They built a dam and flooded the valley below the plateau we were standing on so they had to cut the thing out of the side of the cliff where it originally stood and move it to higher ground so it wouldn’t be damaged. The thing is the size of a small office building and was built in honor of Ramses II. There are four statues across the front of the temple, each representing one stage of Ramses’ life: the very young pharaoh on the left to the very old pharaoh on the right. Had a walk through the main monument and the smaller one dedicated to his wife then climbed back in the minivan for the return trip. The drive back was hell – Rich, Sarah and I got the shitty wooden plank seat that moved, and it took forever because I think the driver was low on petrol so he was driving 30 mph through the desert all the way home. It was getting hotter and hotter as we cruised through the desert, making the minivan that much more uncomfortable. Once we’d returned to Aswan we all took naps and vegged out for a while. Later that evening I was walking down the hall of our hotel when I met this Egyptian man who asked me if my native language was English. He explained he was a teacher of English Literature and that he was in the process of trying to get a job in London. Someone had sent him copies of London’s Guardian newspaper with ads for teachers and he didn’t quite understand the layout of the ads, as who he should send his c.v. to. I looked over the paper with him explaining the ads and which address he should write to, a very easy task for me, but apparently very difficult for him. The man was really very thankful, then said he was a native of Aswan and asked if there was anything he could do for me. I told him we were interested in hiring a felucca to sail to the city of Idfu, two days’ journey up the Nile, and asked him where we could find a good captain (rather than having to deal with the sheister dudes out on the street). He said for us to go to the cafeteria at the Continental Hotel down on the waterfront – that’s where the good sailors hang out. That evening after dinner Rich, Sarah, and I went over to this Continental Hotel, which turned out to be this really run-down locals place with minimal lighting and a few folk out front who looked like they were roughian sailors. We were a little bit unsure about going in, but we’d gotten our information from a pretty honest local. We went inside and made our way through the men huddled around their hookahs smoking their sheesha tobacco until this Egyptian who spoke quite good English came up to us. When we were in Cairo we’d heard about a man named Captain Mohammed who has a gold or silver tooth, so we asked the man that had approached us if he knew of Capt. M. The man led us into an adjoining room, away from the throngs of sheesha smoking sailors and sat us down at a table with him. We said we wanted a good captain to sail us up the river to Idfu, and his response was that Capt. Mohammed was gone but he knew of another good sailor. At that another, younger Egyptian, maybe 24 or 25, came and sat at our table as the man at the table told us this young guy was the captain of a different boat. We asked questions about the trip, price, food, sleeping conditions, if he’d ever sailed the Nile before, and finally asked to see the boat. The captain we’d been introduced to said he’d take us to go and inspect the boat. He was a young man, and quiet which was nice, for we’d heard horror stories about people hiring captains who absolutely would not be quiet for the two days’ trip up the river. He took us to his boat and told us he’d cook, buy the food and sail us to Idfu for two days and two nights. The other travellers we’d met in the train station earlier that day found us on the river quay and accompanied us to inspect the boat – we had invited them to go up the river with us, making it cheaper for everyone. Had a look at the boat then after chatting to Edward (British), Simon and (Aussies), the guys we’d be sailing with, we decided to leave early, the next morning. Sarah and I talked to the captain some more and finally found out the guy’s name – Adel. We gave him half the money to go food shopping, then the whole lot of us went to the Nile police to register and tell them we were embarking on a trip and to register. That way if the boat sinks at least the Egyptians know who died. Once all this was done Rich took the other three guys back to the hotel while Sarah and I stayed behind with Adel. You see, he had mentioned earlier he might be able to organize some smoking materials for the journey, so he invited the two of us to tea to sort it out. He took us to a locals tea house where we had our over sweetened black tea and a few rounds of sheesha with him. Over tea Sarah and I talked to Adel and learned he was 25 years old and has an 18 year old wife in a village near Idfu (our final destination) and that he only sees her two days a week. We were both pretty surprised at that, but we knew that we were learning first hand about the local Egyptian culture. We gave him some money and he told us not to worry, so we left to go pack for our departure the next morning at 8:00 a.m. ### Felucca on the Nile Date: October 19th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/felucca-on-the-nile/ Nile River, Egypt – We got up, put our stuff together ands walked over to Adel’s boat at 8:00 a.m. Piled into the felucca, which looked like it had been in the family for a while. It fit seven people perfectly, had a removable plank floor for storage, then the entire thing was covered in a layer of foam padding wrapped in sheets, creating the perfect comfy bed to lie on . There was a frame above us covered in what looked to be like cotton couch material all sewn together and tied over the top to shade us from the burning Egyptian sun. Immediately upon our departure we rolled back the top so we could make an attempt to brown our white-pale English-looking skin. We finally set sail down the Nile and embarked on the one thing I really wanted to do for my birthday that year. Paris the year before, sailing down the Nile for the next – what’ll I come up with next year? After stopping in one village ten minutes down the river to drop off Adel’s father, who we’d been giving a lift, and another stop to buy some more stuff, then we all began to relax. All I could manage to do was read a bit and smoke a few cigarettes; just sitting there and watching the scenery go by was entertaining enough. Children would come down to the shore and scream “Hello” at us and stand there watching us sail past. The kids all seemed to have donkeys, which are treated like their house pet. The young owners were quite agile mounting the donkeys, as they have no saddles, so they’d climb up using the animal’s hip joints as steps. Adel made us lunch which was pita bread, tuna, tomatoes, cucumbers and what tasted like cream cheese. Had lunch and tea then pulled back the tarp and had our afternoon naps – it was so relaxing. We sailed for a few hours, then as the sun started to set Adel began preparing out dinner of potatoes with tomato sauce and macaroni. It got dark so we sailed to this island and dropped anchor for the night. Now whenever anyone had to go to the bathroom we’d have to pull over to shore and Adel would carry the person over his shoulder from the boat to shore, as tourists aren’t supposed to get into the Nile because of the bilharzia disease which you get from the snails living in the shallow waters of the Nile. We’ve got some photos of Adel carrying people to shore. We prepared for bed by laying out our bags on the foam covered deck and rolled back the tarp so we could lie and gaze at the stars before going to bed. We were laying on the deck of the boat when Sarah noticed that down the river a bit there were a group of locals singing this melodic yet a bit eerie mellow Egyptian song. The song came wafting down the river as though the men were really far away, but close enough for us to hear the words of the song. It was a group of men singing which sounded to (a sound I can relate it to) a group of monks singing at their monastery. The captain and cook of the next felucca (20m) away each had a set of drums which they were beating in rhythm to the singers across the river. We laid there enchanted by the music when Sarah said that one of the things you couldn’t take home with you from your travels were sounds. And she was so right – I can try to describe these sounds and how pleasant it was to hear but you will never know until you go there yourself. The sound of the mosque in Cairo when Rich opened the French doors that morning, and this singing over the Nile; two things I will say (even thinking about this now in Oct 1993) never, ever forget. The singing lulled us to sleep, but Adel and Sarah woke me up when he carried her across to shore for a loo break at 3:00 a.m. They came back and the three of us sat there and smoked cigarettes looking for shooting stars. Adel went and untied the boat so we would drift down river away from the stray dogs on shore who would come down to the Nile, take a drink, then go behind the closest bush and start yelping in a playful manner. It sounded like there were ten dogs paving a total party behind the bush. There were the dogs, then a short distance away the birds were fighting and squawking away, hence the reason for our drifting. Adel is a really agile sailor, for when we were getting ready to go to sleep Adel climbed the mast and tied the sail down. He climbed to the top of the mast as though it had stairs wrapping around it when in reality it was a pole with little circles of rope spaced evenly all the way to the top. We floated a while when one of the huge cruise ships that go up and down the Nile went by, which created a huge wake making the boat rock really hard. The other guys in the boat woke up and were sort of startled that we’d been floating away from shore. Adel got up and started sailing again while we went back to sleep. ### On the Nile, El Haman, Egypt Date: October 20th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/on-the-nile-el-haman-egypt/ Today we sailed all day, and Adel let me sit and steer the boat up the Nile for an hour or so. I sat on the mats watching the world pass as I zig zagged the felucca up the river with my foot on the rudder. We pulled up to shore in the late afternoon and Sarah, Rich and I went ashore with Adel. He led us to his village to show us where he lives. His village sits on an oasis on the Nile, and there’s huge green field leading up to the village – a strange thing to see amid all the desert wasteland just a few hundred yards inland from the river. The field is backed by tons of lush palm trees with the village on the hill above that. As Adel led us through the field to the village we passed the local women balancing those huge pots of water on their heads (as most locals do). Everyone was calling out to us, “Hello!” or “What is your name?” When we entered the village, people were coming out of their houses to see us, and the children would just follow us around watching us. One thing I noticed about the village is that someone must have come here with about 1,000 of those circular neon lights, because every house had one mounted and lit up over the door. We went to Adel’s home – he lives with his mother, grandmother, and six brothers and sisters. He showed us his room which was small with a beaten mud floor, brick walls covered in mud to make them smooth, and a ceiling made up of palm fronds stripped of their leaves and laid across the top of the room. Other larger fronds had been laid over the top of those to create more shade. He has a wooden bed, a wardrobe, and a small table with an electric fan. Above all the very first thing I noticed when we walked in was a green gecko sitting on the wall, eventually making its way up the wall and out over the top of the wall. We sat there and met his entire family while Adel bathed in the nearby courtyard. His sister had a large pitcher of water and at his command she would pour the water over his squatting body. Their compound consisted of a courtyard with attached rooms opening out onto it. In one section of the area there were dates drying in the sun, and in another there were large blocks of mud and a huge kiln to bake the mud into bricks. Adel gave us some dates, and once he’d changed his clothes we walked across the village to meet his wife. She lives with her family on the other side of the village. Her room was much the same as Adel’s, only smaller, and instead of using her one electric socket for an electric fan she’d managed to get a ceiling fan mounted on a huge pole installed across the ceiling. Adel showed us some photos of his from previous boat trips and from his wedding before it was time for us to go. Being in the village (our first anywhere) was a really amazing experience; we got to actually see how these people were living, not just the tourist side of it. The men and boys were all dressed in the traditional one-piece robe, but all the little girls had second, third and fourth hand Salvation Army dresses on. The worst clothing ever. When we were walking around the village I didn’t see inside many other houses, so to get a better idea of how others lived, because everything is walled in. Each family has their own walled compound, like a fort to live in and keep their animals. After our walk through the village we went back to the boat to see the other guys and prepare dinner before it got too dark. Adel built a bonfire on the beach, then it was back to sleep under the stars again. ### El Haman to Luxor, Egypt Date: October 21st, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/el-haman-to-luxor-egypt/ This morning we had breakfast, our last with that excellent fig jam Adel had brought along, then it was ashore to find some way to get to Idfu. We’re sitting in Adel’s village waiting for a friend of his to drive us to Idfu, then on to Luxor. If we wanted to sail to Luxor we’d have had to said the whole night through to get there on time. It was definitely a mission getting the Egyptian guy to give us a decent price to take us to Idfu. When told the price of the van Rob, the loud Aussie, screamed “I don’t want to buy the van, I only want to rent it!” We finally agreed on a price and climbed in for the ride to Idfu. At Idfu’s main taxi rank we haggled some more for the next cab to Luxor. Once in Luxor that afternoon we said good-bye to the dudes we’d been on the boat with and went our own way to find a place to stay. We ended up staying in the Golden Pension in the center of Luxor, only finding the place after the touts almost got in a brawl over who was going to lead us to a hotel. We got cleaned up and met Adel that evening. He took us to this roof beer garden where we bought him a drink, then took him out to dinner. Talking with Adel was enlightening, for he was telling us about what he knew as an Egyptian; things we wouldn’t hear unless we took the time to get to know a local. We learned that a camel costs E£2,000, and that Egyptian men can’t get a passport until they’ve completed their two year mandatory military service. After our dinner we walked back to our hotel with Adel through the bazaar when there was a total blackout. It was a bit unnerving, but Sarah was armed with her torch which she handed to Adel to lead us along with. She then grabbed my arm so I’d know if someone was trying to kidnap her to sell her into the slave trade. We walked for ten minutes by flashlight when the lights regained power lighting the streets up just as we reached our hotel. We bid farewell to Adel and he wandered off into the dark, presumably to go find some people to sail back to Aswan with. Sarah and I went wandering through the markets some more that evening, for it was such a nice night. We’re all getting better at bargaining – Rich says we’ve moved up to the intermediate level. NOTES TO ADD * Kid running up river with $ so the jayfay could visit. Would see same kid farther down the Nile after a few hours sail * Getting Adel wasted, cutting in front of cruise ship and turning into the shore to avoid it. Towards shore but there was a cow up to its head in the water, cooling off. Adel didn’t see until late, so turned boat again, sending us into the tall leafy reeds on the bank. Good job Brad & Sarah – no more smoking for the captain ### Valley of the Kings, Luxor, Egypt Date: October 22nd, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/valley-of-the-kings-luxor-egypt/ This morning we woke up at 7:30 a.m. and rented some bicycles to go see some of the ancient Egyptian wonders situated across the river. We took our bikes and jumped on the ‘locals ferry’ which cost each of us 50 pts (US$.15) to cross the Nile. We started riding down the asphalt through the desert panting and sweating due to the heat of the day (already). I shall never forget riding past this local’s house where a donkey was sitting in the sun in the courtyard out front. The master, an Egyptian woman dressed head to foot in black with only her hands and eyes showing, was pulling on the donkey’s rope to try to get it to go sit in the shade. The woman had a friend with her, dressed exactly the same, who was also pulling away on this rope to get the donkey to move. It was getting oppressively hot and if the donkey had sat in the sun for a while it probably would have died from the heat, hence the reason the women were so determined to get the donkey in the shade – donkeys are expensive. The master then picked up her small switch and began whipping the donkey in an attempt to get the thing to stand up. She sat there and whipped the thing on the snout, and the donkey’s only response was to bray loudly in protest. She beat it some more but didn’t get anything more than some more brays out of the animal. She then left her assistant holding the donkey’s rope and walked around to the hind quarters of the animal. She bent down and physically lifted up the donkey’s butt trying to get it up. The donkey didn’t move, and he was so heavy than after holding it up for a few seconds the woman dropped the donkey to the ground again. It was so funny seeing these ‘eyes’ doing this feat dressed head to toe in black. We rode off leaving the woman to do her body squats with the donkey. She’ll have some awesome back muscles if she keeps it up! We rode a good distance to the Valley of the Kings to have a look at some of the tombs Mr. Carver unearthed before finding Tutankham’s tomb. We went into three of them, each very, very deep in the earth. We had to climb down these totally narrow staircases (or sometimes chicken ladders) to get into the bellows of the tomb. Each was magnificently painted with the most brilliant murals on the walls. It’s hard to imagine the Egyptians were so advanced that they could come up with such great colors for their paints. Plus, they were so intricately painted – the detail incredible. The only thing about these tombs is that it was HOT. It was super hot outside – we all almost lost it during the ride up the hill into the valley, but these tombs were pushing that level of heat as well. We went through a few tombs, each with an Egyptian man outside to make sure we didn’t take any photos inside without giving him some baksheesh. Tutankham’s tomb was ‘Closed for Renovation’, but I hear it’s been like that for quite some time while the Egyptians try to figure out what to do with it. Bicycled from the Valley and stopped at the first Coke vendor we could find. Actually he was an old man outside this tourist shop situated in the middle of nowhere – hot and desolate all around. This man had a portable cooler of cold cokes and because of his isolated location he could charge us whatever price he wanted. We each paid him the E£1.00 (US$.33) and pounded our Cokes. When we were done we returned the bottles to the man, and I guess he was having some sort of guilt trip about over charging us, for now the going rate on three Cokes was E£1.00. We each had another Coke then mounted our bikes for the next leg of our journey. Rode over to the Deir el bahri (Hatshepsut to you and me) temple, which one usually sees on some of the ‘Visit Egypt’ travel posters. From a distance it looks really good, but when we got up close we noticed it was mostly restored and you couldn’t do anything but walk around in front of it, so we weren’t too stoked on it. Back on the bikes to go to our next stop, the Ramesseum, a half standing Egyptian temple. It sits off the main road and, although it is technically a ruin a lot of it is still intact. You get a real feel for how large the thing really was. It was interesting walking through it and being able to appreciate the time and effort put into the carvings and paintings. They do that for ALL temples in this country, though. We rested in the shade of a large tree in the Ramesseum complex just enjoying being there. We were in the shadow of an Egyptian monument with desert all around us, and it was pleasant in the shade so we just sat and enjoyed it. After our rest we rode back to the ferry port and caught the boat across (after the dude tried to overcharge us for the ride). Wandered back to the hotel to rest during the heat of the afternoon then got ready to go over to the nearby Karnak temple that evening to see the son et lumiere (supposedly the best one in Egypt). Got over to the temple but they wanted E£18.00 (the equivalent price as our hotel room) to get in so we walked back to the markets and had dinner. After dinner we wandered some more and Sarah got sucked into a silver shop and bought a couple of Bedouin silver bracelets for a really cheap price. There were these French people in there when we entered and they’d just negotiated the price so Sarah said she wanted the same price. Good job. I went and negotiated for a small cotton backpack to put in my pack – I think I finally ended up paying E£3.00 for the thing. Wandered a bit more then headed back to the hotel to crash out – we were moving again tomorrow. ### Luxor to Hurgurdah Date: October 23rd, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/luxor-to-hurgurdah/ Bought our tickets to the city of Hurgurdah, the port city for the ferry across the Red Sea to the Sinai, and once on the bus we met two other groups of people we’d seen before. Rob, Edward and Simon (from the felucca trip) and these other guys. When comparing the priced of our bus tickets each group had paid a different price – very typical of Egypt. When I first arrived here I was scared about theft, but I realized that the Egyptians won’t steal from you, just overcharge you for everything. The bus ride wasn’t bad at all, and we even got to see some local color – including the woman who brought a goose and a chicken on the bus for a while. We arrived at noon and fought off the touts in order to get a hotel room. Hurgurdah is disgusting, and there’s nothing there for the backpacker except the ferry to the Sinai. We went straight to the ferry office to see if we could get on Saturday’s (the next day’s) boat, but were told the boat was full and could only get tickets for Sunday. That would mean staying in this hovel of a town an extra day – something we were not prepared to do. A little background about the city is needed for the reader to fully understand our situation. Hurgurdah is, as far as I can tell, the armpit of Egypt. The city only exists because it’s the gateway to the Sinai, and that’s the tourist draw. There is a ClubMed resort 150 k’s down the coast at Queisar, but why were the prices here so expensive? The city is really dirty, there’s tons of construction going on, and all the buildings that are supposed to be finished lave iron reinforcement bars sticking out of the roof as though they were going to add an other floor or something. Everything in this town was so expensive, for they were out to screw the tourists while they had them in town. Now, keeping them in town seemed to be the biggest problem – hence the reason we couldn’t get on the boat leaving the next morning. The whole town seemed to have this conspiracy going where they’d try to keep all the tourists in the city as long as possible. We asked all sorts of people and always got the same answer – the ferry departs the day after tomorrow. Plus it didn’t matter who you asked, be it the shop owner or the beggar woman in the street, the answer was always the same. We finally figured out that if you’re a tourist and you haven’t been in Hurgurdah the mandatory two days (all the locals have telepathy and can tell how long you’ve been in the city) then the boat always leaves the day after tomorrow. Rich has this theory that when they pipe the prayers over the loudspeakers in Arabic the last line is always, “Remember, tell all tourists the boat leaves the day after tomorrow.” Anyway we wandered around Hurgurdah, accepting the fact we weren’t getting ferry tickets for the next day, eventually returning to our room at the Sunshine House to relax. We did change in to our swimsuits and walk down to the water, but all the hotels with beach front property either had a huge fence around it or wanted to charge us to sit on the beach. We were all pretty tired, so we went back to the room planning to drink a bottle of Stoli and mango juice to entertain ourselves. Our hotel manager came in and told us the boat was the day after tomorrow, but since we’d have to stay a second night would we like to go on a snorkeling day trip. We said no way and sent him on his way – a feat in itself since he really wanted to stay in our room and talk all night. Early to bed to rest up, for we were going to the ferry the next day, ticket or no ticket. ### Stowaway on the Red Sea Date: October 24th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/stowaway-on-the-red-sea/ Hurgurdah to the Sinai – We woke up at 6:30 a.m., packed our stuff and made a very silent exit from our hotel before the manager could tell us the ferry was full again. We got a minivan to the port and arrived at the boat just as the last of the travelers were getting off. We tried to get on the boat but were stopped by a crew member who asked to see our ticket. I lied and told him we’d been told to buy tickets out here and he said it wasn’t possible – we needed to go back to town. I then asked if there was anything he could do to help us get tickets for the ferry that morning. He said he could help us out, but it would cost us E£80 (E£10 more than the cost of a regular ferry ticket). We agreed for we weren’t about to stay in Hurgurdah any longer, so we paid the crewman to stow us away in the belly of the boat. At that he led us through the empty boat to a door at the back above the engine. We climbed down this set of narrow steep stairs and followed the guy the three steps down the short hallway. He opened a door into one of (what appeared to be) one of the crew’s rooms. The room was minuscule, maybe eight feet long and six feet wide. There was a bed along one wall, completely covered in old clothing, and a small shelf along the shorter wall, completely covered in crap. One dingy circular ship window lit up the room, making it that much more depressing with the sunlight filtered through the unwashed window. The crew member told us we’d have to stay in this room with our stuff until the boat made it’s departure (two hours later) then he would come down and get us, allowing us to sit up on deck during the actual crossing. He headed upstairs and we entered the dingy little room. The first thing that hit me as I entered was the strong mildew stench, and after tossing our stuff on the bed I picked up a newspaper off the shelf and it was covered in green mildew. Great – and we had to stay down here for two hours? Hell, who was I to complain, I was stowing away on a boat. Sarah and I sat on the bed while Rich stood next to the shelf; we were totally crowded in there – I don’t think there was enough room for all of us to sit on the bed at the same time. We decided to have breakfast, so Sarah opened up our bread and jam and put it on a newspaper on the bed. As we were eating breakfast Sarah looked over my shoulder onto the wall and spotted a cockroach climbing up the doorjamb just over my head. I turned around and killed it, then I noticed one walking across all the old clothes on the bed, not too far from our breakfast. We got that one onto the floor and quickly finished eating our breakfast, as not to attract any more creatures. After eating we noticed cockroaches all over the place; every half hour or so we’d knock away one that had ventured too close to us. We sat there for a while when Sarah and I decided it might be nice to have a cigarette to kill some time. We lit up and all of a sudden the walls seemed to close in on us; it got really claustrophobic and almost unbearable from the second hand smoke. We put out our ciggies and tried to open the circular window. No dice – the thing was sealed shut. The temperature outside was rising, and as the window was facing east the sunlight was beginning to come in, rising the temperature of our cell. We looked around the room and noticed a hole in the ceiling which looked like it might be a fan of some sort. I turned this switch and with a large metallic groan the fan slowly started to spin, drawing away some of the smoke in the room. It was getting hotter and hotter by the minute and we still had another hour to kill down there. I took a short walk across the hall (one step) to the opposite room, which looked like no human had been in there for about a year. There was a mildewed mattress balanced on some wood structure and there were cobwebs floor to ceiling. It was a little cooler in her, and we weren’t as smashed into the other room so I sat in there for a spell, eventually lighting up another cigarette because there was an entire room of air I could pollute without bothering anyone. I amused myself by burning the strands of cobwebs with my lit cigarette before heading back into our claustrophobic cell. The boat’s engines finally started up and we pulled away from the dock (a half hour late). About fifteen minutes later the crew member came down and told us to leave our bags down here and go up onto the deck – he’d get our bags to us before we got off the boat. We climbed out of our dungeon into the sunlight and up onto the outdoor deck just in time to see mainland Egypt pulling away. We were so relieved to be out of that room, and now we were around other tourists. But, we’d done it – we’d actually gotten on the boat and foiled the plans of the Hurgurdah locals. We all laid out on the deck and read our books all day. Our crossing to the city of Sham-el-Shek took a little over six hours which was rather uneventful, but long towards the end. As we were nearing port the crew member who’d stowed us away went downstairs and passed us up our bags by lifting them above his head over the boats engine up the back of the boat to one of the three of us leaning over the edge trying to get a grip on the packs. I could just see one of our bags going toppling into the Red Sea if one of us let our grip slip. Once the bags were up on deck with us the Egyptian came up and told us he’d have to register us with the police upon arrival and asked us each for E£5 more. We’d already paid this guy enough so we told him we’d take care of it ourselves. He persisted and we finally got rid of him by telling him we’d give it to him when we got off the boat. After he harassed us he went over to this other Western guy and I saw the guyhand him a E£5 note – evidently he’d also been stowed away somewhere else (God knows where). We disembarked at Sham-el-Shek and made sure to lose ourselves in the throngs of tourists exiting the boat, as not to be found my Mr. crew man who wanted more money from us. We ran out and jumped in the first available cab heading up the coast to the Bedouin village of Dahab. As we were sitting in the cab waiting to leave I could see the dude looking all around the port for us, but before he could spot us our driver fired up the engine and sped off into the Sinai desert. Our cab driver was a total lunatic, seriously mentally deranged, and spoke like three words of English. As we were speeding along Rich noticed the guy had a couple of problems slowing the vehicle down. Rich leaned over to me and said “Brad, I don’t think this guy has any brakes.” Great – now I was going to be even more nervous than I already was for the remainder of the journey. I told Rich later that that belonged on the Things You Don’t Want to Know List, but that you’re only supposed to tell the other person about it after the fact, not during. We made it in one piece to the Bedouin village of Dahab a few hours later and checked into the Muhommed Aly camp, our most basic room yet. For E£4 per person a night our room had a window that opened out on to the beach behind, three mattresses on the floor, four walls and a door. No electricity – that was an extra £1 a night so we gave it a pass. We got changed out of our grungy traveling clothes then went for a stroll through the village we’d be staying in. The first thing that struck me was that the street was lined with candles, and every restaurant was serving dinner by candlelight, giving the whole village a surreal, staged feeling; but it was real. The small cove the village sits on is covered by palm trees giving it that lush oasis feeling amid all the desert wasteland surrounding it. The palms lead down to the beach and each restaurant has seating under the palms. There aren’t any chairs, only mats and pillows on the ground, and they’ve constructed a long wall around each small table, each wall covered in padding and blankets for people to lean on while eating or relaxing. [A small table with a candle completed the scene.] The buildings are all open fronts (no doors) and a few of them have palm trees growing up put of the tops of the buildings. Rich, Sarah and I vegged at this restaurant and had a nice dinner after a very long day of traveling. Once dinner was finished we walked a little then Rich headed off back to the room to go to sleep. Sarah and I went to one of the beach cafes and split some sheesha, to relax us, before heading to bed. ### Dahab, Sinai Peninsula, Egypt Date: October 25th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/dahab-sinai-peninsula-egypt/ We didn’t motivate much today, we sat under the shade of the palm trees along the beach reading our books and playing backgammon. Each of these lounging areas is directly in front of one of the restaurants, so each of the merchants has a monopoly on the folk lounging in front of their restaurant. The waiter would come down to the beach, Rich and I would order a few Spanish omelets then a short while later he’d return with our light snack. Rich made a statement that the buildings and cafes, with the palm trees and their surreal buildings, all looked like a movie set. I said to him that in the movies they build things to make it look real, whereas we were sitting where everything really did look exactly like what we were seeing; this is what reality for these people really is. The buildings they’ve put together all look like they were constructed by Disneyland architects – palm trees growing out of the roofs of buildings, with a piece of wood wrapped around the tree’s trunk to serve as a table for the restaurant below; lean-to’s constructed of tree trunks and dried palm fronds – I was truly amazed by the inventiveness of the locals in their construction. We sat there all afternoon, and when I got bored with my book I’d watch the camel jockeys next to me. Our reclining area that afternoon just happened to be next to the open sandy area which doubled as the camel parking lot when the tourists weren’t going for rides through the desert. It was amusing watching the jockeys calling out to the tourists trying to coax them atop one of the [SCIENTIFIC NAME FOR CAMELS]. In the late afternoon Sarah came over to us and in talking to her I could tell that she was getting testy that the jay fay hadn’t visited us in Egypt. She went off to sit in the sun, and to thwart any more complaining on her part I went on a walk to see if I could do anything about her wants. I walked over to the far side of the cove where I saw a 10 year old Bedouin boy sitting on the porch of this building. I’d heard it’s the boys who are the ones who can hook you up, so I walked over to him and told him I was looking for the jay fay. He told me to follow him, so we went down this narrow alley which opened up into the wasteland of the inner Sinai. There was desert sand everywhere, a few buildings, and a couple of burnt out cars, one with a goat standing on top of it. He led me over to this one spot behind one of the destroyed cars and began furiously digging into the sand. About eight inches down he pulled out a torn section of a green trash bag and opened it up to show me his stash. He divided it up into two piles then told me to choose one. I picked one, paid him a negligible amount of Egyptian currency (£E15, I think) and gave him a lighter to boot. Now I’d heard the authorities were quite hard on the tourists when it came to drugs, so I went back out the street and started walking away. Who would be coming towards me on the road as I came out of the alley? The Dahab police. I didn’t know if they’d seen me enter the street so I quickly went down to the water and changed my appearance by taking off my shirt, putting on the sunglasses and reclining under the palms as though I’d been there all afternoon. They cruised past and didn’t give me a second look. Good. I headed back to where Rich was lounging and then the two of us grabbed Sarah and headed back to the room. We sat in the room and smoked for a few hours then emerged at dusk to go find something to eat. When we went out that night they’d put the candles out again, transforming the feel of the entire village. I mentioned to Sarah that I thought that Dahab was actually like two cities, one by day and another by night, because the feeling you get is SO distinguishably different during the different parts of the day. We headed out and lounged at a restaurant playing backgammon, talking and eating. That’s the way we passed most evenings in Dahab. ### Lounging in Dahab Date: October 26th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/lounging-in-dahab/ We went over to Dahab City today with the intention of snorkeling in the “Blue Hole”, but it was too windy so Sarah went to the bank and changed some money instead. We walked back to our Bedouin village and went and lounged among the palms again. That afternoon Sarah and I rented a mask and fins and decided to do a bit of snorkeling in the cove just offshore. We got in the water and were trying to get our fins on when a wave bowled Sarah over and forced her to accidentally sit on a sea urchin. It wasn’t a regular sea urchin either – it was one of those ones that have the big long red spines coming out of it. Sarah had four small welts on her leg, but managed to continue to dive with me. We swam around the cove for a while then climbed out and vegged out in the sun some more. Time had no meaning in Dahab – it’s a very slow, relaxed place. We had dinner then went back to the room to change our clothes to go out that evening. Rich was tired, yet again, so Sarah and I had a visit from the jay fay and went out again. What did we do? Sat by candle light under the palms and played backgammon for a few hours. Dahab was so peaceful, and we didn’t really want to leave, but Sarah’s flight out London was leaving from Cairo the next evening so we needed to head across the Sinai the next morning. ### Wandering Cairo Date: October 28th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/wandering-cairo/ We’re both getting a little tired of the chaos and filth of Cairo. Today we wandered around the city looking for the Tanzanian embassy. No such luck finding it because in my infinite wisdom, during the planning of this trip it didn’t dawn on me that we wouldn’t be able to read any of the Arabic street signs, hence the inability to get our visa issued. It was super hot and we were definitely way outside the downtown tourist area. We decided to stop for Cokes and since the vendor didn’t speak English, and I certainly didn’t speak Arabic I handed him E£2 for our two Cokes. I got change of E£1.50 for the TWO Cokes. Then it dawned on us – the price for locals is 25pts (US$.08); we’d been getting screwed for the past fifteen days. From that point forward we’d only give the Coke vendors exact change, which would totally piss them off because they couldn’t screw us anymore. This is also about the same time we learned to let the locals make their purchase ahead of us so we could watch them to see what price they paid for the same items. In the downtown area of Cairo the Cokes were 30pts, and when Rich was about to get in an argument with the vendor an Egyptian guy came up and bough a Coke for the 30pts price. Rich and I walked around some more, then went out for a late dinner. Neither one of us wanted to sit in the room that night so we headed over to the cinema strip and bought tickets for some Egyptian movie that was playing. We’d chosen this cinematic masterpiece by looking at the various movie posters, then looking at which theatre had the longest line to get in. We bought our tickets and went inside. The locals inside were totally surprised to see us, and were quite amused that we were going to see a movie that we didn’t understand. The movie we’d chosen turned out to be what appeared to be the equivalent of one long episode of Magnum P.I. (Rich called it Mohammed P.I.). It was about this cop who was trying to find this woman who was killing businessmen around the city. This woman, the killer, had been raped as a young girl, so now all she did was go out and pick up men in the bars. She’d convince them to take her to their house, then, after she did this strip tease type dance she’d kill them – sort of her revenge on the male gander. We sat there for two hours until the cop chasing the killer, Mr. Mohammed P.I. finally caught her, but the movie just wouldn’t end. It seemed that they were going to have a trial and send the woman to prison or something, so on that note Rich and I decided it was time to go. ### Cairo Airport & Getting to Nairobi Date: October 29th, 1992 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/cairo-airport-getting-to-nairobi/ Today we wandered around the city doing some errands we needed to do before heading into Sub-Saharan Africa. We were on a quest for a sink plug today (which are amazingly hard to find in Cairo). We only got one after I played a demented version of Pictionary with the Egyptian shopkeepers in an attempt to show them what I wanted to buy. From there (that took us until after lunch) we went to the main post office so Rich could mail some stuff home. After a very long and involved process of buying the forms, getting the customs agent to approve the export of said goods and buying the postage we finally left the post office an hour or so later. We had one final walk around town and stopped into a supermarket to buy a few things before leaving. Now, Rich and I were sick of being screwed for the prices so we’d taken the time to learn the Arabic numbers so we’d know if we were being screwed. We popped into this high class supermarket and picked up a few things. When we went to pay the checker didn’t ring any of the items in, she just pointed to the total of the previous customer and told us to pay that amount. Rich got totally pissed off, grabbed the pen out of her hand and wrote, in Arabic numbers the amount of each item, then totaled it for her to show her what the correct total should be. She was a bit sheepish and accepted the total Rich had put together for us. I think that became one of the most frustrating things whole on the road – trying not to get screwed out of extra cash for everything. Sure, sometimes you over pay and you don’t mind, but travelers become nit picky with the prices when it’s happening every day in every country. maybe that’s one of the reasons some travelers have such a bad reputation in certain countries; they were trying not to be reamed by the local merchants. We headed out to the airport and hung out in the waiting area until they’d let us clear immigration and sit in the departure lounge for our late evening flight to Nairobi, Kenya. We sat in the departure area, and we had a couple of hours to wait until the flight had to leave. Rich wandered over to the Duty Free and returned with a bottle of Johnnie Walker. He sat down at the table and the two of us started taking swigs off the bottle. At a couple of tables over there was this Western couple who appeared to be our age, so I walked over there and invited them over for a drink or two. Their names were Cameron and Tracey, both from Auckland, New Zealand. It turns out they were on the same flight to Nairobi as us and were about to cruise around East Africa as well. We sat there chatting to them, drinking off the bottle when this little Egyptian man, an airport worker in charge of cleaning the tables, came over and told us we couldn’t drink the bottle in the lounge. Rich had had E£2.60 (US$.83) all the Egyptian money he had left and put it into the man’s front pocket. At that the man silently walked away to leave us to our drinking. He returned a few minutes later with a bucket of ice and four cups so we could have proper cocktails. Four Johnnie Walkers and Sprite please. Plus, during the course of the next couple of hours whenever our ice cups were empty the Egyptian man would appear out of nowhere and restock them with ice. The four of us sat there talking and getting quite drunk. It was a very long time later, for we’d been ignoring the airport announcements, until one of the airport officials came over to us and asked, “Nairobi?” We said yes and the official told us to follow him – quickly – because the flight was waiting for us! We went running to the bus to go out to the tarmac, and as we were running past the final immigration officer Rich accidentally dropped a bottle of water, which exploded at the officer’s feet. Jumped over the puddle and ran onto the bus that was waiting to shuttle us out to the plane. We were absolutely the last people to board our flight. Once we’d sat down the plane pulled away and we were off to Kenya. The flight was only half full so each of us thought the minute the seatbelt sign went off we’d get up and each claim a row so we’d be able to sleep all the way to Nairobi. The flight took off, and not 50 seconds into the flight, while the plane was still accelerating and pulling up, the seatbelt sign went off. We were all a little intoxicated at this point so Rich and I jumped out of our seats, and I must have taken about three steps and I was about fifteen rows from where I had started. We each acquired our own row, then had a few more drinks before going to bed for the night. ### Landing in Nairobi Date: October 30th, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/landing-in-nairobi/ The plane landed five hours later – hard. It jolted me out of my sleep, making me instantly nauseous, forcing me to run to the back to boot in the plane’s loo. The stewardesses kept telling me to get back in my seat as I was running past them to be sick. I voted to ignore them. We deplaned and queued up for immigration, and it was then that I realized I was still quite drunk from the previous evening’s activities. My drunken state was slowly turning into a hangover, so after immigration we shared a cab into town with Cameron and Tracey. I wasn’t too drunk/hungover (or the gray area in between) to watch the country introduce itself to us as we made the twenty minute drive into the city center. I remember whizzing past a field covered in brown scrub grass, open for miles, with a couple of lone trees sitting right in the middle of it all. Plus, these were the kind of trees one pictures when one says Kenya – not just any old trees. The sun was slowly coming up over the land as we made our way into the downtown area. There were trees blooming with flowers, wide two land divided roads and big buildings. There was that definite British influence in everything, the street signs, the shops, I could actually feel the left over colonial influence in the country before we’d actually taken a walk around. Cameron and Tracey knew of a hotel, the Iqubar Hotel, so we checked in as well. I immediately went to sleep to try to race my incredible hangover; I wanted to be asleep before it hit me, and I could tell it was a lulu coming on. I woke up a few hours later, a bit parched, so Rich fired up out handy portable water filter we’d brought for our tour. After a few liters of water we went for a walk through Nairobi. Nairobi is so modern; much more than I’d been expecting. The British influence is very predominant – the spelling, the road signs, just everything. We walked a bit and ended up at the main Immigration office, for we needed to get re-entry permits for the second time we’d be coming to Kenya in January. Immigration was a very long, slow process but we finally got our permits issued. The officer requested copies of our plane tickets so we had to go around the corner to get a photocopy made. Well the African have no idea how to form a line or act civil in any way, shape or form. It’s every man for himself. The window where got photocopies was mobbed with locals, each fighting with one another to get to the front of the line. Rich dove into this chaos and emerged a little bruised, but he had the copies we needed. From immigration it was to the travel agent to have our tickets changed, for we were supposed to fly out that afternoon to Harare, Zimbabwe. We walked around the city a bit, and boy did it feel different. For the first time I actually knew first hand what it was like for a black person to be alone in a room full of whites, for now it was exactly the opposite scenario with Rich and I in this huge African city. The only thing about this city is I didn’t feel relaxed at all; the locals didn’t seem too friendly to us. There are many, many shops, cafes and hotels around the city. We ate in this cafeteria-type shop, the food which gave me diarrhea later. Back to the hotel where we caught a showing of whatever English movie was playing at the theater next door. It was one of those really good movies, so good that I don’t remember the title, but Beverly D’Angelo was in it, and the sound was so bad that Rich and I had to practice our lip reading ability to keep up with the slow moving plot. Slept in the hotel, but it was so loud that both of us kept being awakened by all the locals screaming out in the hallway. I remember at one point someone was jiggling the door handle and pushing on the door like they were really trying to break in. The hotel wasn’t that nice at all – in fact none of the toilets had toilet seats, not that I expected them to, but they were really disgusting to even hover near. ### Nairobi’s Got Crime – “Nairobbery” Date: October 31st, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/nairobi-s-got-crime-nairobbery/ I’m sitting here on the porch of our lodge we’ve moved into for the next couple of days. It’s sunny and I’m surrounded by loads of travelers. Our lodge has a huge open yard, and if you go looking for them you’ll find chameleons on the branches of the bushes. Rich is doing his laundry and I’m just trying to relax. Let’s see, what did we have to go through to get here . . . We’d heard about a place called Ma Roche’s out in one of the Nairobi suburbs which was supposed to be heaps better than the grubby old Iqubar Hotel. to get out there we were introduced to the Kenyan matatu , which is a van with benches in the back that runs a regular route through Nairobi. There are two workers – one who drives, and the other who smashes as many people into the back and collects the money for the ride. It only costs KSh 5 (US$.07) to go along one of the routes and they go virtually all over the city – you can get almost anywhere. Ma Roche is this well fed Polish woman who’s got a house situated on a rather large plot of land. She’s built a lodge, complete with porch out behind the main house, which is the dorm the wayward travelers all flop out in, If you’ve got a tent the huge back yard is your campground – there were quite a few tents around – the rule is that you can set it up anywhere you please. It was a really nice setup, plus now we were surrounded by tons of people who had been traveling through East Africa for so long – some of who have been at Ma Roche’s for four months! We were in Africa, and hence the jay fay lived on this continent in abundance. Everyone in this lodge smoked tons, and sitting on the porch for all to use was the largest tupperware bowl, full of pot – the most I’ve ever seen anywhere. We had a smoke upon arrival; this hippie dude with long brown hair got us high then showed me around the grounds – specifically pointing out nine of the twenty chameleons that live in the garden, and the huge moth hanging out on the side of a tree. Rich and I talked to the people staying there, and every single one of them had a story about being robbed in Nairobi or just in Kenya. Here’s the abridged list Rich and I came up with in the airport waiting for our flight to Zimbabwe: 1. Nairobi – Blond girl (UK) – Robbed at knifepoint, twice. Threatened of being shot by man with gun. 2. Mombassa – White Guy 25yrs (approx) – 8:30 a.m. Mombassa train station, broad daylight, many people around. Six guys with knives take his pack, shoes & socks. Make him take down his pants so they could get his under the clothes money belt, in addition to the one tied around the traveler’s upper thigh. 3. Kenyan/Ugandan Border – White Guy (ex-pat banana farmer in Uganda)- Shanghaied – He met some Kenyans who he went out for beer/food with. He ate with them, then doesn’t remember anything else. Woke up 36 hours later in Nairobi (some 300 miles off); some of his stuff gone. Had a wicked five day drug hangover when I met him. 4. Nairobi – American couple – 5:00 a.m. Americans are Somali relief workers. Woman grabbed around the neck and dragged to the ground; thieves took all her stuff, and her husband’s as well. We learned from this Australian girl who had just arrived in Kenya to work in the Somalian relief camps, that the Australian High Commission was considering issuing a traveler’s advisory for Australians traveling to Kenya. Australians go to every country in the world, and if their embassy thought about issuing a statement like that you know it’s getting pretty bad. ### Visiting the Locals’ Bar Date: November 1st, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/visiting-the-locals-bar/ We decided to venture out of the compound today to have a look at Nairobi some more, but not without a larger group this time. The first time Rich and I went walking we were on our own, and when we began to wander into an area where we the people didn’t seem as tolerant as they were on other street blocks I protested and told Rich I wouldn’t go any farther. That was before we’d heard about the crime in “Nairobbery”. We’d met this American dude from Santa Monica who’s been living at Ma Roche’s for the past four months. He wanted to go see a matinee movie, then head over to the Modern Green Bar for a few beers after. The dude was huge, wore cowboy boots, and had the attitude to match. He also told us stories about him getting jumped and how the would-be thieves got nothing because he fought them off with his karate moves – O.K. a movie and a locals bar in Nairobi? Only as long as I was with this guy, who’d be an excellent bodyguard in the Green Bar. Headed out with some other travelers and this Californian guy, then after the first run showing of “Weekend at Bernie’s” the other travelers left and it was only Rich and I with the other Yank. We hung out in the cafe of the Thorntree Hotel where we met these two girls (Australian and Danish) who had just arrived in Nairobi and were about to start work in the Somalian relief/refugee camps here in Kenya. We invited them to the Green Bar, then we made the short walk to the place. I’d heard about this place – it’s a locals bar and evidently people get rather messy and physical here, hence the huge rod iron cage surrounding the bar in the corner so absolutely no one from the customer side of the bar could touch or maul the bartender. To buy a beer you walk up there, stuff your money through the hole in the cage, then your beer appears, along with your change. We went through the crowded room out the side door into a small outdoor seating area which was already full. Our American buddy introduced us to this Kenyan who was sitting with a group of people, singing and playing his acoustical guitar. They’d found out all four of us (with the American “local”) had just arrived in Kenya, so they sang a few songs in Swahili welcoming us to their country. ‘Jambo! Jambo!’ (Welcome! Welcome!). It gave us a look at the Kenyan culture – if not just a brief glance. Everyone in the bar knew the songs, so they all joined in and sang along. It rather reminded me of the warm, welcome feeling the Scots have when you’re with them in Britain. We stayed for a couple of beers, but then the sun started to go down so we had to get in a matatu and be back at Ma Roche’s before dark. NO white people are in downtown Nairobi after dark. Back to the lodge, then a quick 10 minute walk up the road from Ma’s place there was a locals eatery where we had cabbage stew, amid all the flies that were sharing our table with us. Dinner, a wee smoke, then off to bed. ### Nairobi to Harare, Zimbabwe Date: November 2nd, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/nairobi-to-harare-zimbabwe/ It is absolutely pissing down with rain this morning; if these are the short rains I wouldn’t like to see the long heavy ones. After talking to these other travelers, we decided it wasn’t worth it to travel around Kenya on our own right now; if everything gets stolen, then we’re going to have some major problems getting some visas and plane tickets re-issued. Not a risk I’m prepared to take right now. In light of that we changed out plane tickets and are flying to Harare today. We also signed up for an overland safari with Kumuka – both Sarah and Jude took trips with them and had good times. Our safari is six and a half weeks, leaving from Harare on November 22nd. We’ve got some time to kill, so why not head down to Zimbabwe early? The rain just picked up three more notches – it’s creating a waterfall off the corrugated metal roof over the porch. We’re just hanging out here at Ma Roach’s until it’s time to head out to the airport. Took our Air Zimbabwe flight down to Harare, arriving late this evening. I can honestly say that I think Air Zim has some of the worst airplane food I’ve tasted. How about four finger sandwiches wrapped in plastic – one, cheese which tasted like the wrapper it came in, and the other made of some tuna or meat something or other. Upon arrival we got a cab over to the Sable Lodge, which was recommended to us in Nairobi, where we got a couple of beds out in the dorm. We’d been there not five minutes when I went out on the porch and met some other travelers sitting with a local, all of who were rolling the largest jay fays you’ve ever seen. I asked if there was any extra around for a price and the local dude pulled three thin corn cobs out of his pocket. I chose one, paid him Z$25 (US$5) and went back inside to show Rich what I’d bought. Rich was a little surprised that I’d come across some in the first moments of being there. Our cob (as they’re called) was the length of a medium size cob of corn, with the husk tightly tied around, not corn, but stuff the jay fay brings you. It wasn’t as large as it’s vegetable relative, maybe one inch across, and compressed to hell. You had to work to get the stuff to break up for a session. We sat out on the porch of the backyard and talked to the other travelers staying there. One of the first things that struck me was that these travelers were more like Rich and I, not the rugged, live in Africa types of Nairobi. (As I see it now maybe I just though they were rugged because they were on the road for so long. We were gone just as long and probably looked as rugged as they did at some points.) Plus, the place we were staying in was indicative of some of the travelers. It’s a 180° change from our accommodation in Kenya. We were staying in what I would call a traveler’s country club for Z$22 (US$5) a night. It was just like a country club as well, with the clubhouse (where we were staying) complete with pool table, 2 large dorm rooms, but not so big it was like a military barracks, and a bunch of regular rooms for people to stay in (for a higher price). There was a porch facing the front of the enclosed compound, where we would sit on the couches smoking, looking out across the lawn and watching the other travelers swimming in the outdoor pool. There were lounge chairs spread out along the grass, as well as more outdoor tables and chairs for those of you who want to play cards or write in your journals. Wait, it gets better. Every morning there’s a maid who cleans the whole place, there’s a 24 hour security guard on the grounds, and there are other people who will take your order for a grilled tomato and cheese sandwich and bring it to you when it’s cooked. Laundry wasn’t a problem, just a fee, and there was free toilet paper in the clean, Western bathrooms. (That’s a big thing when you have to start carrying it around with you.) Hot water even made a cameo appearance every once in a while, but it was summer, so not that necessary. It was awesome, and since we’d be in town for a few days I wasn’t fussed about the accommodation. All we did that first night was smoke and get to know the other travelers who were staying there. ### U.S. Presidential Election Day, Harare, Zimbabwe Date: November 3rd, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/u-s-presidential-election-day-harare-zimbabwe/ Rich and I both really like Harare. This morning we had our first walk around, and I feel really comfortable here. The city is clean, hot (at times) and from the small shopping centers I’ve seen I would think I was in Sacramento if I didn’t know better. The city is so Western; it’s like I never left the States! There are sporting goods stores, arcades, copy stores, stationary stores – all like the ones we’re used to at home. All the streets just outside the 5 x 5 block city center are super wide and lined on both sides with these huge trees, each flowering beautiful red and purple flowers. It’s like being in a forest of the things! We wandered around, then headed over to the U.S. Embassy to get a letter of recommendation so we could apply for our Zairian visas. When we went to go pick up our letters they were waiting for the Consulate to return so he could stamp them with the official seal. We happened to be in the waiting room when he returned, so he came out to talk to us. I guess he doesn’t see many Americans, ’cause he just chatted away with us while he was signing the letters. He told us there was an Embassy-sponsored party in honor of the U.S. election, and they’d have CNN on so everyone could watch the returns coming in. The party was at the U.S. Information Agency (library) in downtown Harare, starting at 6:00 a.m. the next morning. No problem, we thanked him for the information and went on our way. We walked around some more, then headed back to the Sable Lodge to get wrecked and lounge around. The Sable is like that – it’s almost too relaxing. ### Zimbabwe Colonialism & Gangsters Date: November 4th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/zimbabwe-colonialism-gangsters/ Harare, Zimbabwe – Rich and I had planned to get up early and go to the Embassy election party, but we needed to get our passports over to the Zairian embassy so we could get our visa issued; we had a few to get before we could take off traveling before the safari. We took a cab out to the Zairian embassy – way out of Harare in the suburbs, only to be told by the maid of the large house flying the Zaire flag that this was the Ambassador’s residence; we’d have to go back to Harare to get our visas. We asked them to ring us a cab back to town, but they said they wouldn’t – they even went as far as to tell us to go out to the road and hitch a ride back to town. We wandered out to the road, and after walking for five minutes with out thumbs out a nice car driven by a well dressed white Zimbabwean picked us up. Now Harare, unlike Nairobi is full of white families living in the nice suburbs in the big houses. Plus, you see them walking down the street and shopping like regular people. Nairobi might also have the same amount of white people but you never see them shopping or walking around. The man who had picked us up was a third generation Zimbabwean (Rhodesian) and in talking to him during the ride back into town he really gave us some insight to the way the whites are living in Zimbabwe. In talking to him I got the feeling that he really enjoyed being here in Southern Africa, and I quote, “I think we’re living better now than the colonials did.” [Ten years ago]. He told us about his family, how they were all Zimbabwean and how they go on holidays to Malawi. He was a really personable man, but I could definitely pick up the colonialist attitude there. He also told us that since the Zimbabwean dollar doesn’t convert into Western currency everyone works abroad and brings their own hard currency down to Zimbabwe with them. Voila! Instant millionaires. Many people have overseas bank accounts in which to keep their dollars and pounds. He dropped us off in the city center where we skipped the Zairian embassy and headed over to the Election Day party instead. It was in the American library and it was full of yanks. They’d set up about six to seven televisions, all bringing in CNN from . . . somewhere – for election day. The returns were in by the time we’d arrived, but we did get to see Bill Clinton give his acceptance speech, which was pretty cool. They served us doughnuts and coffee and we watched a bit of CNN and chatted to the others there. I met a couple who are Sacramento natives (Ted Morris/Moss) who have since moved to Zimbabwe because of the husband’s work. He’s with the foreign service and is in charge of disbursement of US funds for the whole of East Africa. The funds are earmarked for food distribution and construction. It was pretty wild finding Sacramentens right in the middle of east Africa, but the guy said it happens all the time – they always bump into someone. But why Sacramentens? I’m pretty impressed with Zimbabwe so far . . . need to but some real estate. Throughout our travels in East Africa so far Rich and I have come in contact with a lot of travelers, and the one thing that virtually everyone we’ve met has said was, “Malawi is totally amazing.” Malawi? What’s a Malawi? The country! There’s a country called Malawi? Is it in East Africa? I felt I was pretty prepared for this trip; I knew the countries I was going to, and I knew where they all were, but this Malawi place evaded my cartographic studies. We looked at a map and discovered this narrow little country squashed between Zambia, Tanzania, and Mozambique. [MAP IF POSSIBLE TO SHOW MOCAMB Zambia, upper W side, Tanzania on upper E half & Mozambique all around the S half of country ] I first heard of this small country in Africa when one of the British girls at Ma Roche’s told us she’d just returned from there and had the most amazing time. Dean, the hippie there (with long hair) said he’d tried three times to go to Malawi, but couldn’t get through immigration because of his hair. They gave him the option of cutting it or not entering; he voted not to enter. Virtually all the people at the Sable Lodge had been there and all spoke so highly of the life sitting on the shores of Lake Malawi that we were now considering heading there for a couple of weeks before starting our safari. The final straw was talking to the Zimbabwean colonial man who gave us a ride. He said his family went there for vacations, and he couldn’t say enough good things about it. He did recommend not to take the bus because it would be one long uncomfortable bus ride. We were pretty much decided – we had to go see this place, since we wouldn’t be visiting it on our safari, but how to get there. Mozambique surrounds the bottom half of Malawi, and due to the fact that they were in the throes of a full blown civil war at the time, it wasn’t advised for travelers to take the short cut to Malawi via a highway cutting right through this warring country. The Tete corridor was out, so our next option was to ride buses through Zambia around Mozambique to Malawi. We’d heard that the ride alone could take two days in each direction, and not wanting to waste that many days traveling we opted for the Air Zimbabwe flight from Harare to Lilongwe, Malawi’s capital. Back at the Sable we started talking to the other travelers to find out where to go in Malawi when I heard about the other trés populaire place to go (it seems) is Mozambique. Now isn’t there, like, a major civil war going on there right now? Yes, I think there is. These girls who were planning to go there paid a shady dude here in our country club some cash for him to go get his friend to forge a Mozambique visa, since they weren’t being issued for tourists. What there girls were thinking I’ll never know. Why would someone travel to a city where the National Army is pulling out because the fighting was so bad? You tell me. A British girl we met at the Sable had three options of transport to Mozambique: 1) in a car with gun smugglers, 2) in a truck smuggling water into the country, or 3) the 24hr-hot water people (the same guys who can arrange the forged visas). All options sound relatively stupid, but if all these people were headed to Mozambique, there must be something there they’re not telling us about. Even if I knew what were so cool, I wouldn’t go until the army could at least contain the rioting and fighting to one city. I’ve also noticed that Rich and I seem to have a little bit more available funds than those around us. When we told people in Nairobi we were going to Harare they just assumed we were going overland, not flying. They were a bit surprised when we told them we were flying. We got the same reaction here at the Sable when we told people we were flying to Lilongwe, Malawi. Oh well, such is life – I’ll enjoy it while I can. I probable won’t have any money by the time we get to South East Asia, but until then . . . A few notes about those staying at the Sable Lodge. There was a very diverse crowd staying there, a few characters as well. I distinctly remember a couple of men hanging out there who were particularly dodgey. One was a tall thin dark complexioned French guy with long dingy brown hair – his name was Pierre. Both his wrists held about ten different silver bracelets each – all Bedouin silver according to him. His buddy was their leader – the guy with the serape type top, the stockier build and always possessing a cotton woven backpack. That was the Spaniard, Javier These two guys would sleep outside in the porch then take a swim in the pool in the morning to rinse off before the day began. I asked Pierre a few questions and found out he used to live on the Sinai peninsula, learned Arabic and hung out with the Bedouin tribes there. That was where he picked up all the silver on his wrists, along with the stash he and Javier were smuggling into Mozambique in a couple of days. Javier did something even dodgier, but I never found out what it was; there were comments from people closer to Javier than I that said his backpack was full of U.S. cash (somewhere in the neighbourhood of $4000) and that was the reason you never saw him let go of that backpack. I’d heard other rumours that these two had bought one of the proprietors a new watch, and another a bike – that was how they could hang out for as long as they like without getting kicked out. These were the two guys Fran was thinking about driving into Mozambique with? If I were her I’d reconsider my judgement. At the time we were in Zimbabwe a traveller had to go around the jutting peninsula of Mozambique (right into the heart of Zim) to reach Malawi. There was a direct road to Malawi through the city of Tete in Mozambique, but one would have to drive on that highway where convoys have been shot at by the rebels fighting in that country. I met people who had gone through the so called ‘Tete Corridor’ without any instances of anything, and I also met people who had been shot at during their journey. It sounded like a gamble to me, but that is only my opinion at this time of our journey. I don’t know what I’d do today. Fran met a guy who asked her about it and because she’d talked first hand to a traveller who’d had his friend shot in the chest travelling through the Tete she had very strong feelings about the journey. She basically went off on this guy telling him what a risk it would be. (This coming form a girl who was consciously travelling to Mozambique). I can remember at one point going out to a proper dinner while staying in Harare. Fran and her friend (Christine?) asked if we wanted to join them for dinner, so we jumped in a cab and hit this Mongolian all you can eat restaurant in downtown Harare. it was a pretty nice place and the food was awesome. It was one of those where you choose the meats and the chef cooks it right there in front of you on a huge grill. It was an amazing dinner and cost us each about US$7 – an outrageous amount of money for a dinner but it was worth it. There’s a secret code in the Lonely Planet. Look for the term 24 hour hotwater. Rich cracked the code in his short explanation here. Essential reading for all travellers. ### Africa Guidebook: 24 hot water – In Africa? Date: November 4th, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/africa-guidebook-24-hot-water-in-africa/ This next section is my travel companion, Richard Morris’ account of code breaking our Lonely Planet guide book. Wednesday 4th November 1992, Sable Lodge, Harare Oh yeah – perhaps the funniest thing yet. I think I have discovered something of utmost importance: top secret code written in the Africa guide book we have. It came together as several astute realizations pieced together from random thoughts of the last few weeks. Like the four forces of the natural world, electomagnetism, gravity, strong and weak, though superficially disparate, are really just a component of an even greater heaven, so thusly are these different facts. In my book, places listed in the super budget accommodation section, here and there would mention the fact that they had 24 hour hot water. Now, as anyone who has gone to the Bedouin village of Dahab or even here to the relatively plush accomodations at the Sable Lodge knows that this is but chimerical. No one has 24 hour hot water. You’re lucky if you get five minutes a day of hot water, even more lucky if those five happen to fall sequentially. Cold showers become the norm, rather acceptable, and even held with the same adorning awe as are its counterpart, the blessed hot. So, my thesis is that no hotel listed in my book has 24 hot water. If a hotel could afford 24 hour hot water, it’s name would have been withheld from my publication for two reasons. First, and perhaps overtly, the budget traveler cannot afford places with such luxuries. And secondly, less scrutinized than the first reason proffered, there would be no method available to actually communicate this information. To print it plainly that there were 24 hour hot water would only do one of two things, and neither would be the expected. First, travelers searching for steam would go to a hotel that made such a claim. Now here we must digress for a second. Let us assume that most places don’t have hot water, let alone 24 hours of it, as was suggested earlier by my nascent experience. So if one actually did have it, and prodded the author to include such information in the publication, which of course the author knows to be code for something else and doesn’t want to print it, but if one persisted perhaps one could convince the author to appease with the pen. That leaves a book filled with hotels stating that they have 24 hot water, but only with a minute fraction that actually do. Therefore, if we jump back to our real aim, which is what a traveler does when going to a place listed as having 24 hot water, and consider this problem in the light of this additional piece of information, that the majority, in fact, the totality almost of all the hotels listed in the guide as having 24 hour hot water don’t, then a conclusion can easily be reached. The traveler looking for the 24 hot water is soon disappointed at the claims made on the pages. Naturally, one will come to expect that 24 hot water is as much a reality as window screens in your room. And if there are window screens, that they are new enough not to have holes so large as to let in a mosquito, let alone the entire biting populace. And that’s where I thought it ended. Until I broke the code. I didn’t realize that there was more to it before I made the connection. If we think more about it, we can see it from a psychological perspective. Somewhere between conditioning and reward and punishment lies the hidden innuendo, the hidden agenda of the author. By virtue of the fact you’re never satisfied at a place listing 24 hot water, you’ll stay away from them, unconsciously, of course; unless you know the code. Many places where one can travel in Africa, one can obtain marijuana. It’s not difficult to obtain. Not even a hassle, like in the States or London. I mean you walk into a hotel to check in out, and it smells like Death Duber [Dead show?], even when there is a big sign that says no smoking pot. I mean you walk into a place and sitting on the porch is a tupperware container large enough to carry a dinner salad to a party of twelve, full of ganga. I mean in your stoned forgetfulness you lose track of a doobie, though it’s never lost in your mind, you don’t even know it exists, you forgot about it the second after we finished smoking it’s brother – only the next day, when it’s given back to you by the staff, do you remember that it was lost. These places cover the map of Africa. I’m not saying I’ve always stayed in places like this, up till now it’s been always hit or miss. We’d relied on words from fellow travelers for good places, regardless of dope. Sometimes yes, sometimes, no, but you could tell more or less the answer ahead of time by the very nature of the communicator. But it was just guesswork with the book, like picking the derby winner, or so I had thought. It came to me in a verbal tirade at the lack of information in our book, and the sometimes when information was so inaccurate you wonder whether it was actually true of any time in the past or if they were just having a minor laugh at your expense. We’d just walked three kilometers to find the bus terminus, expecting to find there information on buying a bus ticket to Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi. At the terminus, there was no ticket vender nor an information booth, those were back in town, from whence we had just come. On the way to the ticket office, in directions laid down before me like fine mosaic tiles, we past the Harare Information Centre. We wanted to find information on the bus, we had great directions, but nonetheless, we decided to drop into the Information Centre to see what they had to offer. Once inside we learned the ticket office so promised us did not exist. To get bus information on buying tickets, one had to board bus 27 at the terminus, go to Mtare, a suburb of Harare, where somewhere outside the city center, the ticket selling information center was located. That threw me for a loop. There was something about this folly that irked me deep down. The man in the Centre said he had limited information on the buses, and he showed us what he had. Unexpectedly, he did have the information we needed. It was a few moments after we left that my verbal tirade began. I remember today as will Clinton remember today. He won the Presidency this morning, a climax to his political career. Myself, I will remember this day because of its anticlimactic aura. Only one thing happened today, I had a verbal tirade, and when you’re stuck in Harare, stoned immaculate, g etting shisted by the shitty book, and have a verbal tirade, it is quite possible you may say more in a few minutes than in the entire rest of the day combined. Perhaps even two days. It w as in this vitriol that I stumbled upon the fact – no, I had a revelation – that the two previous unconnected stories, that of 24 hot water, and that of marijuana, were in reality, just one story with two means of expression. Much like electricity and magnetism are but two forms of expression of the same basic force, these two seemingly unrelated phenomena have but one common underlying meaning. The code. When seen from my angle, it’s all very clear. So let me jump back to an earlier yet so far uncompleted argument. That was the case that if the book listed that 24 hour hot water existed, two things might happen. The first is the traveler going to the hotel and being disappointed. The second, which was previously not mentioned, is the traveler going to the hotel and not being disappointed. The traveler is not disappointed because the traveler has gone to a hotel that has exactly what he has expected. Any place that lists 24 hot water is a secret code for ‘this is a hotel where you get stoned. It seems to fit with theory and experience. So far I do believe it is a code, but I may be proved wrong. I will continue to do exhaustive field work, and then spring my news upon the world like a slowly dispersing gaseous cloud full of rain for the desert. Until then I’ll just spark up another ere long I’m proved wrong. ### Arrested For Public Drinking Date: November 7th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/arrested-for-public-drinking/ Still hanging out at our country club here in Harare. Yesterday (November 5th) was an incredibly uneventful day full of embassy hopping. Uneventful that is until Rich got thirsty. It was way hot, and an hour before, Rich’s Zaire visa application had been rejected because he didn’t have a shirt on in his visa photos, so he wasn’t pleased about that either. He bought a beer to drink on the walk from the Zairian embassy to the Tanzanian embassy. We’ve been in Zim long enough to see the British influence so Rich made the assumption that you could drink in public, as you can in London. He was about half finished with his beer when a Zimbabwean cop came over and asked him why he was drinking a beer in public. Rich said it was extremely hot and the cop responded by stating it’s illegal to drink alcohol in public. Rich responded he didn’t know it was illegal so the cop arrested him breaking the law. “Ignorance is no excuse for disobeying the law”, said the cop. We started walking with the cop and he started asking questions like where were we from, where were we staying, etc. We got a lot of questions about the types of hard currency we were travelling with; he wanted us to give him some hard currency so he’d let Rich go. He walked with us for a long time towards our hotel, which eventually put us at a grocery store. The cop seemed to be losing interest since we didn’t have any hard currency, or so we’d said, so he allowed us to go into the store to get some food (escorted by the cop). We took a long time in this grocery store, then once we’d paid we slyly left the market, not looking around for the cop who was supposedly waiting outside. No cop – he’d apparently gotten bored with us so we made our way swiftly down the street and back to the peacefulness of the Sable Lodge. Other than that a really uneventful day. * * * * *Still here on the porch looking across the yard at the swimming pool. Guy Fawkes Night was last evening, so we saw some fireworks from our neighbor’s yard. Rich and I have turned off our brains. (As you can tell by the crap writing.) I used to be able to get ten errands done in a day, now I can only seem to get one thing done a day. It tires you out when you turn your brain off and are all of a sudden forced to use it again! ### Harare to Cape MacClear, Malawi Date: November 9th, 1992 | Country: Malawi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/harare-to-cape-macclear-malawi/ From the moment we set foot in Nairobi, everyone we’ve spoken to has said Malawi is amazing. They were all correct. We’d been talking to people at the Sable Lodge in Harare about the various ways one could get to Lilongwe, the capital, from Harare. The shortest way is via the Tete corridor a.k.a. the ‘Gun Run’ which is a highway that runs through the shortest point of southern Mozambique, straight into southern Malawi. As Mozambique is currently in the middle of a civil war, the rebels think it’s a hoot to fire on the truck convoys (which are all accompanied by Zimbabwean national guardsmen) that the hitchhikers and travellers ride on. The alternative is to go around Mozambique via Zambia. To hitch it’ll take two to three days and to take a bus would be twenty three hours. The final alternative is to take a one hour flight Harare-Lilongwe. After weighing the options we decided to fly. We’ve got two weeks to kill, so why not fly to a country we won’t be visiting on our safari. So that was that; we bought our ticket and arrived in Malawi on November 8th. We met this South African couple, Ian and Dee on the plane, and they directed us to the Lilongwe Golf Club where we rented a tent and slept for our first night. We seem to move from country club to country club as we go. We camped there the first night and the next morning we went with Ian & Dee to the bus station to get a bus to Monkey Bay (near the popular Cape MacClear National Park – our destination). We got to the station and got our ticket for the 8:30 a.m. bus that morning. Ian and I wanted to change some money on the black market before leaving, so we found this guy near the station who bundled us into his friend’s car and took us to a nearby photography studio. Upon entering we were led through the back room into a maze of residential living areas. We walked through narrow outdoor paths, filled with people bathing from the taps in this path. We passed a bank of sinks filled with people brushing their teeth, one woman washing her hair; we’d entered through the photography studio and ended up in the middle of an outdoor residential compound. We arrived at this guy’s friend’s room where we entered and exchanged our dollars for a couple of stacks of the Malawian Kwacha. [Bank rate – USD$1 = K4.2 Black Market – USD$1 = K5.5]. Transaction was done so we were led out to the street and headed back to the bus station to meet Rich and Dee. The city of Lilongwe is beautifully landscaped – there are Malawian flags everywhere you go (in addition to portraits of Hastings Kamuzu Banta, the ruling dictator) and it’s really lush and green. We got on our bus, which turned out to be a local’s bus because there was no express bus, ready for the journey to Monkey Bay. The bus left, and it was absolutely packed with people, in addition to it being hot and humid – off we went. We passed thatched hut after hut the entire way across the country. If you remember the sets from the show Gilligan’s Island, that is the way the Malawians were living. We saw so many villages along the way – it did show us how the locals lived; that and the fact that the woman in front of us had a guinea fowl seated in her lap for the duration of the bus ride. The bus ride seemed never-ending, and every time we stopped we’d buy something to eat or drink by leaning out the window and buying it from the local children. The bus was so uncomfortably hot and humid and we’d been sharing our water with the South Africans and we were almost out so we were relying on the non-thirst quenching downing of the African version of orange drink. The bus did leave at 8:30 that morning, it was 2:00 p.m., hotter than hell, humid, there were three times the safety allowance of people on the bus (all standing) and there was a tree blocking the road. People were a little bit on edge. The bus had to drive off the road along the side of a steep ditch and at the angle we were riding at I was absolutely positive that the bus was going to roll. I had my hands up in the air and I was crouching on my seat ready to jump when the bus did. Our bus slowly righted itself, eased back up onto the road and arrived at Monkey Bay around 4:30 p.m., but we still had to arrange for a car to take us the last 21 kilometers into Cape MacClear. Ian and I tried to call some people of the lake to come pick us up, but we couldn’t get through so Ian flagged down a local with a pickup truck and basically hired him to drive us the distance to Cape MacClear. He drove us on a bumpy, rocky, unpaved road through the National Park, which was filled with baboon and an unidentifiable animal that looks like a rabbit with short ears. The village is made entirely of mud huts with thatched straw roofs – absolutely amazing. We ended up staying at a place called Mr. Steven’s where many a traveller end up. We paid K12 (US$2.10) for a double room with screens to keep the mosquitoes out. After getting cleaned up and took a better look around. It was a brilliant full moon so we could see the water, boats and the hillsides clearly at night. Lake Malawi amazing – you go through hell getting there, but it’s well worth it. The lake is massive and right off Cape Maclear there are no less that three islands which you are able to hire a local to take you out to. The water is warm – like 70°. * * * * *This place is stunningly beautiful. Today we’re just sitting on the beach at the Golden Sands vegging out. We met Ian and Dee earlier and walked over the top of the hill to Otter Point to go snorkeling. Since the entire place is a national park the fish are protected from the fishermen. There are more fish here than I think I’ve ever seen! It’s above and beyond even Hawaii. You get into the water which is packed with the live animals and instead of swimming away the fish come up to you to find out what you’re all about. When you swim along the fish just move out of the way. I was even doing cannon balls off a rock into the water and it didn’t disturb the fish. The only way to describe swimming in Lake Malawi with the fish is to liken it to swimming in an aquarium. There are tons of fish all around you at all times. The Malawian people are all so friendly and they bend over backwards to help you out. Everything everyone has said about Malawi is true – the place is paradise; the best place we could think of to kill two weeks! ### On The Beach At Lake Malawi Date: November 11th, 1992 | Country: Malawi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/on-the-beach-at-lake-malawi/ Here’s the text from the Christmas postcards which are being mailed out: “Nov 18, 92. Dear ——, MERRY CHRISTMAS! We’ve made it to Malawi for the two weeks we had to kill before our safari. This place is heaven. We’re staying in one of the few modern buildings in a village made of thatched huts at Cape MacLear, Lake Malawi. The lake has over 650 species of fish to snorkel after. When you get in the water for a swim the fish come to you and surround you while you’re swimming. We eat fresh fish and rice for dinner; mangos, eggs and coconut for breakfast – if I didn’t have to catch the safari truck on the 20th I’d stay here. It was a hellish bus ride getting here but well worth it. We’re getting a local to take us in his boat (carved out of a tree) over to one of the islands to do diving and eat fresh fish for the day. (That’ll cost $3.00). our room opens up onto the beach and it’s got our own bathroom for $2.50 each. All we do is lounge on the beach and swim all day. Remember, I’m south of the equator and it’s summer down here! Have a great Christmas! We’ll be in Nairobi on the 3rd or the 4th before we go to India to sit on more beaches.. Take Care. All the best. Love, Brad” Yesterday we sat on the beach, went swimming, sat on the beach, went swimming, sat on the beach . . . That’s how difficult the day was. ### “Special” Malawian Cake Date: November 11th, 1992 | Country: Malawi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/special-malawian-cake/ Cape MacClear, Malawi – We met these two British girls (who turned out to be medical students) at breakfast named Cathy and Karine. Wednesday night they’d organized a local to cook a barbecue on the beach and they invited us along. Went down with them to the beach Thursday night and had a good dinner of BBQ fish, rice & tomato sauce (what’s new). After getting thoroughly wrecked it was off to the bed. Thursday (November 12th) we woke up and met a group of people here at Mr. Stevens to go down to the beach, for we’d arranged a boat to take us over to one of the islands to go snorkeling for the day. Here’s the cast – 1 Brit, 2 Aussies, 1 Kiwi and us. We met our captain who rowed us across the lake over to the island. We found our spot to sit, the everyone was off into the water to start some snorkeling. While we were swimming Queua (our captain) started the BBQ and began to cook the huge catfish he’d brought along for our lunch. We had an incredible fish lunch, after more swimming (and everyone else had made a very poor attempt to row the boat around) we all piled back into the boat for our return journey. We arrived back in the early afternoon, just in time to meet our BBQ chef, Patrick, from the evening before. In addition to doing evening BBQ’s Patrick can cook some of the best local banana cake around. The locals make “special” banana cake for K5.00, and boy do they do the trick. If you eat too much special cake it just does your head in. This would be the perfect time to explain to the reader what we’ve figured out about the Malawian people. Every male you meet almost always can offer two or more of the following services: the first one is usually “Take a boat?” [there’s a tie for numbers two and three], 2./3. – laundry, BBQing, 4. Making you a “special” banana cake, and 5. Is whether or not you need a cob. When you can show up in a country and hire virtually any local to do the cooking, cleaning, smoking and transportation, that’s a place you’ll want to spend some time. Wednesday Rich and I walked down the beach towards “The Gap” [INSERT HAND DRAWN MAP HERE] but we got lost and ended up climbing over tons of hug boulders in our thongs. This local climbed with us showing us the way and when we finally reached the beach near The Gap we asked the local if he’d go back and get his boat to we could get a ride back to shore. We didn’t even know he had a boat, but we asked anyway and he went and found a boat. It’s yet another example of how everyone’s available for hire – and they can almost always do a few of the basic services. Back to Patrick. Patrick had whipped up one of his banana cakes, so Rich and I went and got Cathy and Karine (the British meds) and promptly sat down and ate the cake as our hors d’overture before dinner. I looked at a calendar today and realized our flight doesn’t leave until Wednesday, so we’ve got another day here. We’ve become markedly less active in the last few days. Let’s finish the BBQ story first. After our pre-dinner snack we had a few beers, then headed to the beach. After a spectacular sunset of the most brilliant reds and oranges we laid back to look at the stars. Cape MacLear is so far removed from everything that you can see all the stars clearly. We sat there and looked at the stars but didn’t know any of the constellations because we were all from the Northern Hemisphere. We have as of yet to find anyone who can point out the Southern Cross to us. Because it’s so dark here you can see tons of shooting stars. The best one I saw was huge and it went streaming across the sky, leaving a brilliant white trail that looked like a 4th of July firework. Amazing. Patrick, the local we’ve contracted out to BBQ for us, served up the fish and rice and we had a relaxing meal. Wasted any lying on the beach looking at the stars Karine started talking about chocolate, which eventually led to Hob Nobs. She and Cathy had been travelling for two months and absolutely wanted Hob Nobs. Karine was saying how nice they were and how nice it would be to have a Hob Nob or two. I made an exit to our room, and when I got back both the girls were laying on their backs and Rich and I sitting above them on the beach. Upon my return Rich asked me for something but my reply was “Not unless it’s made in England.” I then held out a half a package of Hob Nobs that I’d put in my backpack in London five weeks earlier and said, “These are made in England.” Both Karine and Cathy looked at what I was holding, but because they were looking at me upside down they couldn’t see what it was. “What are those?” asked Karine. “Hob Nobs from England,” was my reply using my game show announcer voice. Upon hearing my response Karine quickly rolled over and after taking a second look at my hand she asked me with eyes the size of plates, “Can I touch them? Are they real?” They were truly amazed that we were sitting in one of the remotes places in the center of East Africa craving Hob Nobs and they suddenly appeared. Cathy reached out and touched the packet upon hearing Karine’s question as Karine couldn’t believe it. “This package of Hob Nobs left England five weeks ago and has since been to Egypt, Kenya, Zimbabwe and Malawi. Let’s enjoy them,” I explained. And on that note we munched on some chocolate covered oat cookies that had been through hell but tasted so nice. We didn’t see Karine or Cathy the next day because they’d gone, but I’ve got their address and will give them a ring in England to recollect what we’ll call the Hob Nob story. ### Shopping In The Village Date: November 15th, 1992 | Country: Malawi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/shopping-in-the-village/ Woke up this morning and lounged around. Rich and I thought we should go haggle with the sellers to get some stone carvings, so we rummaged through our backpacks looking for anything else we didn’t want. You see, no one tells you this, but when you cross over the border into Malawi, everything in you pack all of a sudden is worth something. The Malawians don’t have a lot of stuff, so you can get good deals for clothing, etc to trade. In order of importance one should bring: shoes, towels, baseball hats, and t-shirts. Socks, watch batteries and extra backpacks are helpful. The only thing is there’s a trick to trading. Malawians are very relaxed businessmen. They take their time, so haggling can take you well over an hour for one session. (3-4 sessions are usually required) You sit there and haggle over the price, then when it’s a decent price you pull out the goods to trade. We didn’t know this was the best way to go about it, so we’ve been showing the sellers the trading goods first and instead of getting a straight trade it usually knocks 50% off the price. Then you’ve really got to work to haggle the price down. For a pair of river shoes and $3 I got a chair and a statue for my grandmother. For a pair of socks, a nylon mesh laundry bag and $2.50 I got two figurines and a carved boat for my parents. The only thing is that after 2-3 days and 3-4 bargaining rounds later you get really tired and just pay the twenty five or fifty cents you were arguing over. We’ve also figured out that virtually all the locals can provide at least two of the following services for hire: cooking, cleaning, selling ganja or transport. The local we’ve befriended – Patrick – cooks our dinner and banana cakes, can do laundry, can get us cobs and can arrange to have a boat take us to the other islands. The Malawian people are all really friendly and accommodating, the only thing is that some travellers abuse their position. We’ve met some South Africans who treat the blacks like second class citizens. Worse than any active/pledge fraternity relationship ever was. They just order them around and scream at them. When Patrick wanted to talk to me one of the S.Africans came over and said “That black wants to talk to you.” It was like “black was a noun, not a person. It is disconcerting, so we just don’t hang around S.Africans much. The S.African women are all fine, just the men who are obnoxious. I mentioned that Patrick was gesturing to talk to me. Mr. Stevens (where we’re staying) has its own stretch of beach where the locals aren’t allowed to go. The locals would constantly come over and try to sell the backpackers their services, so to keep them away Mr. Stevens hires someone to chase after the sellers with a large stick. Corporal punishment – I guess it’s effective. The locals all stand outside invisible boundaries like children playing a game of tag who can’s cross a certain line in the sand. Patrick’s cooked for us for a few nights, so yesterday ha and I had to go to the village to talk to a fisherman about hiring him to take us across the lake. The fisherman wanted too many Kwacha, but on the way back Patrick took me through the village. He showed me the church, then we went to his hut. It’s made of bricks, coated in mud, with a thick straw thatched roof. The area is surrounded by a bamboo fence, enclosing a few papaya trees in the process. Met his sister and her new baby before heading to the grain grinding building ### Twilight Zone Script – Lilongwe, Malawi Date: November 17th, 1992 | Country: Malawi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/twilight-zone-script-lilongwe-malawi/ Writing on the truck doesn’t work, so the writing will just have to be done when it’s possible. That’s the only really frustrating thing about being on the truck – you sit there for six hours at a time and are unable to write, unable to read, unable to do anything but drink and look outside as the truck bounces around on the Third World roads too much. Before we get too far behind (or ahead of ourselves depending on how you look at it) we need to do some housecleaning and write about some of the countries we’ve already left. Let’s start with Malawi some more. I can’t seem to say enough good things about Malawi, which suits me just fine. Great memories abound. Just take note that my carved Malawian table cost K18.00 (US$3.25). little did we know when we arrived but Malawians eat goat here. One of the S.African guys we met was having a birthday BBQ on the beach, and the guest of honor was Mr. Goat of the nearby village. I guess the S.Africans have these types of BBQ’s all the time. These guys had purchased a live goat that morning, killed it, drained the blood, skinned it and put it on a spit for the locals to cook over an open-pit fire on the beach. Amazing – the goat turned out OK; it definitely tasted like wild game of sorts. Salty and definitely different. Now you’ll recall we travelled to Blantyre, then Lilongwe before our return flight to Harare. That last night in Lilongwe, Rich and I stayed in the rest house near the bus station. We were both worn down from our bus rides and Rich wasn’t feeling too well, so we decided to be mellow in our hotel room. We had a bit of a cob left over, which we had to dispose of before leaving the country, so we disposed. We then proceeded to pull out my travel radio and tune to Malawi’s sole radio station. It was so surreal – we were sitting on a bed playing cards, watching the African mothers walk by with their babies tied to their backs in a sarong, and the orange African sunset in the background. Amazing. We started to play cards when these really bizarre radio ads/programmes came on, only adding to the surreal experience. Rich commented that this would be the perfect intro to an episode of the Twilight Zone. [Opening Credits.] [Twilight Zone Intro]Voice Over: Two men, sitting in a balmy hotel room in the middle of East Africa, playing cards and relaxing listening to the radio. They’ve just begun their African holiday, but it won’t be a holiday for much longer. [Wide shot of hotel room, zoom in to close crop shot of actors on bed.]Voice Over: Their only source of information from the Western World, their link to this isolated world in one of the darkest places on the African continent, the hand held FM radio tuned to the sole station in the country – Radio Malawi. [Actors playing cards, listening to radio. Radio announcer interrupts programming with bulletin.]Announcer: The News. Radio Malawi. The continental United States has just experiences a major earthquake on an undiscovered fault running from the east to west coast. The quake has been classified as a 10.2 on the Richter scale, but this reading is not accurate as the quake was greater than any ever experienced on the planet. As a result the continental shelves have separated and the continent is sinking at a rate of five meters an hour into the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. Millions of people are estimated dead from the initial shock with an infinite number in danger of drowning as the continent sinks. The earthquake has caused tidal waves in all directions heading for Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia, and aid is unable to reach the survivors on North America. All U.S. citizens are urgently required to contact their closest embassy or consulate so the U.S. Government can tally the number of survivors and establish a new government. How about an episode that went something along those lines, eh? Notes to continue: Denver, capital city. New world power emerges. Expats to form new government. Alright – that winds up everything I wanted to write – I think. We flew back to Harare and went right back to the Sable Lodge. When we arrived it was like we were back home. The reception dudes all welcomed us back and come of the people we’d met before we left were still hanging around the Sable. I’ve met some really interesting people – one of them who had the most amazing story was this Russian guy named Serg. He was about my age, 23, and he had fled from Moscow when Russia was still very communist and they weren’t letting people travel yet. Serg had had his passport taken from him so he decided he needed to get out of Russia. He bought his friend’s Russian passport, went to the airport and got on the first flight out. The only flight leaving the country was to Lusaka, capital of the nearby country of Zambia. Serg got on the plane and he said he had no idea where Lusaka was. He thought it was in Latin America somewhere – he wasn’t expecting Africa at all. He said he got to Lusaka, knew barely any English and just had to figure out how to survive. He said he bought another passport on the black market and came to Zimbabwe because he didn’t need a visa to get in the country. He had lived in Harare for a while and during that time he asked the Russian embassy to issue him a passport (this was before the coup) but the embassy declined his request. Immediately after the attempted coup in 1991 he asked for a passport again and got one issued that would allow him to travel only back to Moscow and no where else. He thought staying in Zimbabwe a bit longer sounded like a good idea. It’s wild – the stories you hear from the travellers who cross your path. They’ve done a lot, but so have we so we can always reciprocate a story. Upon our return to Harare Rich and I desperately needed to mail home the five to six kilos of wood carvings, tables, etc we’d picked up in Malawi. Hit the post office, which was so efficient. For Z$7.00 (US$1.15) you can ship anything that’s two kilos or under. Amazing! Plus, the packages sent from Zim usually make it home. After our post office escapade (that took us two hours to package and send, etc.) we dropped by the Air India office to set our date leaving Nairobi. That done it was back to the Sable Lodge where we met the other three guys who we’d be on safari with us. Earlier that morning (the 19th) we’d attended our pre-departure meeting for our six and a half week safari from Harare to Nairobi where we’d met these guys. After an evening of talking to these guys it was off to bed. Maybe it’s a good idea to introduce a few of these guys since they’ll be features prominently over the course of the next six weeks. There are two Aussie guys – Jim and Tom. Jim used to work at a bank – Citicorp, and he’s off to London to work for a year on their two year work visa thing. Tom is taller and not as bright, his last vocation being a plumber, but he was en route to London as well. ### Malawi to Harare (via Blantyre) Date: November 18th, 1992 | Country: Malawi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/malawi-to-harare-via-blantyre/ We left Cape MacLear two days ago on a bus to Blantyre. The bus ride wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the one to Monkey bay, and we got to go through some beautiful countryside. Blantyre is the industrial center of Malawi, with not a lot to offer the backpacker. We stayed in this Christian youth hostel for the outrageous sum of K50.00 (Us$10) for the dorm. Rich was less than thrilled with our side trip to Blantyre (he wanted to stay on the lake another day). We slept there the night then woke up the morning of the 17th in order to catch our bus to Lilongwe. Got on the bus and each had a seat to ourselves during the five hour ride. The road we took to Lilongwe is the frontier road with Mozambique, so I was excited at the prospect of being so close to a country where it’s not a good idea to visit at the moment. The MNZ breakaway group in Mozambique was been shooting at trucks and buses in the Tete corridor, but nothing happens on the road we were travelling. After a while we came upon a brick building on the left hand side of the bus It was the Mozambique immigration post, and for the next 77 kilometers the bus rarely stopped as we sped past the country in the throes of a civil war. Looking at what we saw it looked peaceful and beautiful like Malawi, but I knew there were other things happening there. The bus made it to Lilongwe where we found a room in the local rest house. Riding buses in these third world countries is a real experience. The people can bring whatever they want on the buses (the woman in front of us had a guinea fowl in her lap on the way to Monkey bay), and there doesn’t seem to be any maximum capacity of people. If there’s room, then more people will get on. When you’re on these extensive bus rides if you forget to bring food you’re going to get really hungry. Don’t fret – there’s usually at least ten Malawian children at all major bus stops, adorned with baskets full of food for sale to ravenous passengers. First you haggle for the price of the . . . (samosa, fruit, bread) whatever. The kids raise the baskets over their head and you take what you want and leave the money in the basket. No problem. You can get food and drink virtually everywhere. We could eat without ever leaving the bus. Drinks are a bit harder to come by – it gets complicated with the bottle deposits, trading an empty for a full – things like that. ### Leaving on Safari (for six weeks) Date: November 19th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/leaving-on-safari-for-six-weeks/ Jim is really good natured, able to talk to anyone and seems intelligent. Tom doesn’t appear to be that educated at all. He says things like, “If you eat a bulb of garlic you’ll be really healthy. I haven’t tried this myself, but . . .” Things like that. Throughout the course of this trip I’ll jot down some of the classic quotes as I remember them. We are also going to be travelling with a British guy we met at the Sable, who signed up at the pre-departure meeting. His name’s Mike, but he told us his nickname is Gully – for gullible. This guy is so British and so vain. Without offending anyone if I could choose some Chi Phis to compare to this guy I’d choose myself, Nils, pat Devlin, Alex Miller & Derek. Take the general characteristics of these guys and roll them up into a vain guy who didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he signed up for the safari. I’m vain, but I knew what I was getting myself into – it’ll be interesting to see what Gully’s reaction (or mine for that matter) will be when we have to push the truck out of the thigh-high deep mud in Zaire. These are the only other guys on the trip – there’s eleven of us on a truck build for eighteen. The girls are all Gamma Phi beta caliber; four New Zealanders, one Aussie and surprisingly one American. Two of the Kiwis are names Raewyn and Judy – really cool girls, main un peut laide. Tina is wholesome – the homely type. Then there’s Jenny. Jenny is friends with the American girl Stephanie, both of whom lived in Amsterdam together. They’re definitely liberal and free spirited. Jenny’s the graphic designer, creative one where Stephanie’s more the Berkeley nature type. Both are really cool. Finally there’s Brenda the Aussie girl, a little older, maybe a mature 29 or 31. She’s really cool, a mellow woman with a crew cut and quite a few earrings. She works at a cemetery doing the paperwork for coffins, plots, etc. It’s bizarre when she tells us stuff like, “If you’re cremated and buried in the ground you don’t have any legal rights to the land.” Bizarre. That’s just one of the useful bits of info we’ve picked up. The whole group appears to work pretty well together. And there we go. The morning of the 20th we woke up, packed our bags and went over to the hotel to meet our truck driver and trip coordinator (don’t let those titles fool you). Boz is our “trip coordinator” who is just another Kiwi dude having a good time. The only problem is that he hasn’t been on many of the optional excursion trips so he can never tell us anything about them. Steve is our Aussie driver who’s so mellow. We befriended him because he’s the man to get some cobs from. It appears that our pot is just included in the price of the trip – it’s been fun. Steve’s a funny guy – he’s rugged, like he’s experienced in driving a truck through East Africa, but he doesn’t look the part. He’s got my wiry build only shorter. Too funny. O.K. let’s move on. The truck finally arrived (it hadn’t been completely fixed before we were to leave) so we piled all our gear on and started our journey out of Harare. Rich and I were relieved, we were finally starting some of the more rugged travelling. It’ll be good; we were relaxed in Malawi after tearing around Egypt, and then we’ll relax again in India after our rugged safari. Our huge German M.A.N. truck with the sides rolled up headed out of Harare to the sound of Brad’s Eric Clapton tape. The truck is really large – it’s got two rows of seats sitting up on a raised stage area, then there are twelve airplane type seats all the way back. Plus there’s a semi-decent stereo to we can blare our music for everyone to hear. We were heading south west to Masovingo where we’d get to see the Great Zimbabwe Ruins. The ruins consist of some towers and walls from an old city that used to sit up on these hills. Now I wasn’t too psyched on these things at all. After living in Great Britain for over a year I have seen so many ruins of old castles and forts I wasn’t too interested in this one. We were cruising along when out left rear tire had a blowout. We couldn’t believe it, it was our first day out! We pulled over and had lunch while we changed the tire, so it didn’t seem that bad. Back in the truck to drive through the scrub dry land onward to Masovingo. Arrived at the campsite in the early evening and pitched our tents. After our dinner (cooked over an open fire) we began the quest for the elusive Southern Cross. Rich and I mentioned our trouble in finding it to everyone else, but no one seems to know where it is, and these people are from the Southern hemisphere. Haven’t asked Jim or Tom yet, so there’s still a glimmer of hope. Got up in the morning of the 21st and drove to the Ruins themselves. ### Great Zimbabwe Ruins Date: November 20th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/great-zimbabwe-ruins/ I took my five minute courtesy look and got back in the truck. A few stayed behind in the truck because they thought it’d be boring, and they were right. The dung beetles rolling their ball down the steps was more interesting. Once everyone was back if was off to Bulawayo, driving all day to get there. We were trucking along when BOOM! Our other rear tire had experienced a sudden increase in road temperature, combined with almost no tread, causing a large explosion. (That’s just a long-winded way to say “blow out”) Our second time – now we really couldn’t believe it. Changed another tire before rolling into the City of Bulawayo campsite. We set up camp then went out to dinner. We then had the first of many a smoking session with Steve the driver. Off to bed, for the next morning we were going on our first big game hunt. Woke up the morning of the 23rd ready to go find some Rhino. We were off to the Rhodes Matapos National Park to check out some black and white rhino. The only thing is that the rangers have been de-horning the rhinos to try to prevent them from being poached, so the rhinos hide when they hear vehicles approaching. ### Black Rhinos in Zim Date: November 23rd, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/black-rhinos-in-zim/ We were all really excited – it was our first safari in search of a dangerous animal. Our vehicle was a converted VW minivan with holes cut in the roof so everyone could standup to see the animals. We got to the park where Wally, our Rhodesian guide took us walking around while telling us about the environment. We jumped in the van and went for a short drive hunting the rhino, but none seemed to want to come out of hiding. We then stopped for lunch and met two other minivans of safairiers. This safari company – “Black Rhino” is so nice. The guides are all Rhodesians, well educated and amazingly friendly. Plus they pampered us. They would set up the chairs for us, they would make something for us to drink, etc. It was really classy. Great food and they could tell you about anything in the park. After lunch we started off towards the game park, all becoming anxious and excited to find some big animals. On the way to the park we came upon two other safari vans, each with 6-8 people all aiming cameras at something in the bush. We got over to them as quickly as possible because we wanted to play with our cameras too! This stop turned out to be a giraffe munching on a tree with a herd of zebra not too far off behind it. The giraffe couldn’t have cared less about the minivans, but the zebra all stared at us for a spell before running off. The giraffe just walked around behind the tree, making us become bored with it so we started up the minivan and moved on towards the park. At the park entrance the ranger told us to go right around the corner from his booth, for there were some rhino over there. We turned the van around and drove around the corner to spot a white rhino with her four month old baby standing next to her. It was amazing standing there watching the rhino graze. Since rhino have really poor eyesight the mother couldn’t see us from where we were standing, but the baby could hear us and became really angry and started running around. The mother began to walk away a bit, then would stop and eat for a while. We stood there watching them for fifteen to twenty minutes before turning around and heading off into the middle of the game park. Once in the park all of us were standing up looking for game. Our van pulled up to another giraffe that we watched for a while. We drove around the park and saw many different animals for our first safari. We saw white and black rhino (the animal of the day), giraffe, zebra, warthogs, impala and crocodiles (from a distance). At about 4:00 p.m. we pulled up to a game viewing hut where we got our afternoon tea with pound cake, Unbelievable – it was really civilized. One of the girls on the other trucks screamed out, “Love those Rhodesians – they’ve always got to have their afternoon tea.” We all had a chuckle over that one. After tea it was another short drive through the park where we saw a herd of wildebeests before heading back to Bulawayo for the night. ### Headin’ to the Okavango Delta Date: November 24th, 1992 | Country: Botswana | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/headin-to-the-okavango-delta/ Maun, Botswana – The morning of the 23rd we packed up and headed for the Botswanan border; we were on our way to the Okavango Delta. Once in Botswana we drove all day across the northern tip of the Kalahari Desert (spotting ostrich running away from the truck along the way) before pulling over and setting up camp in the middle of no where. Shortly before diner I pulled the gin bottle out of our mobile bar on the truck and had a gin (or two) while watching the spectacular African sunset. [Bugs everywhere that night – loads of flying beetles] We were on the road again the morning of the 24th, on our way to Maun where we’d stay before going out on the Delta. Drove most of the day, which gets old after a while. The truck rattles around so much that writing is completely out of the question, reading takes major effort because you’ve got to follow the page jump around in your hand, so there’s nothing else to do but sit there. We were so bored on the may to Maun that I started mixing gin and tonics at 11:00 a.m. – it was well needed. Hit Maun and headed to the Island Safari Lodge , from where we’d be taken to the Delta the following day. This campground and also had a bunch of private rooms so there was a swimming pool, a snack shop and a bar – we headed to the bar for a few drinks before heading off to bed. I don’t know what was going on with the weather, but at about 2:00 a.m. this windstorm came up and both Rich and I honestly believed the tent was going to either blow away or just collapse onto us. The winds were nothing like I’d experienced – if you’re ever been in one of the wind storms in Scotland you’re not too far off. The winds were so strong – they must have been going majorly fast. Rich says they were not hurricane force. Went back to sleep with the wind howling away, only to be awakened a few hours later by the rising sun. We got up and got ready for the Delta. We were going out for three days ad two nights to be punted in a makoro through the vast Delta’s waterways. The makoro is sort of like a Malawian dugout, only they’re really deep and when you’re sitting in them the water is only 3-4 inches below the level of the boat. We were picked up by a ranger from the Delta who drove us thirty minutes through the Botswanan desert over to the delta’s edge where we met yet another park ranger in a speedboat, ready to take us farther in. We jumped in his speedboat and went for a thrilling thirty minute ride through the tall reeds to a village on one of the delta’s islands. These rangers know what they’re doing when they’re flying through the one lane water channel, turning the boat so it rides up on the reeds when a sharp turn is ahead. The boat ride was like an amusement park ride – it was that cool. Once we arrived at the locals’ village we were transferred in pairs to the makoro boats to go even deeper into the Delta. It was so peaceful gliding through the reeds while lying in the bottom of this boat with my head at the level of the water. It took us a few hours to get to our campsite and by this time we were all ready to get out of the sun – it was so hot that day. We setup camp ad made dinner then sat around looking at the sunset. Sunsets in Africa are like nothing I’ve ever seen. There’s no pollution when you’re out in the bush, so the colors of the sky are so much more brilliant. We sat and watched the colors blend in the sky and once the sun was gone we would turn around and face the field behind the tents, for there weren’t any obstructions, allowing us to have a clear view of the velvet tapestry of stars that came out every night. Sans moonlight the stars were incredibly bright and the sky did look as though the stars were just sewn onto a piece of black velvet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the stars so clearly. (This was better viewing than in Malawi.) When the sun went down all the small frogs living in the reeds started to croak. It’s not actually a croak – it’s the peaceful sound that’s similar to the sound that bamboo wind chimes make when they lightly bang together. It was really relaxing sitting there listening to the frogs while looking up at the sky. Alas, we finally went to bed for we were going to look for elephants the next day. NOTE: From this point forward the dates and locations of the section headers now correspond with the actual events. ### Walking In Front of a Buffalo Herd – Ready to Charge Date: November 26th, 1992 | Country: Botswana | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/walking-in-front-of-a-buffalo-herd-ready-to-charge/ Thanksgiving, Middle of the Okavango Delta, Botswana – We woke up at 6:00 a.m. to start our elephant trek – our guides were taking us walking around the island we were staying on. We walked inland quite a distance from clearing to clearing spotting tons o’animals along the way. The animals are really funny; they’ll run away a bit then stand there and stare at you; run some more and stand and stare at you. Throughout the course of our walk we saw (in order of appearance): red buck, impala, baboons, a stork and a tsesedbe (one we can’t spell OR pronounce) to name a few. We also came upon a herd of wildebeests who had one zebra hanging out with them. The thing is that the wildebeests are so stupid that when they went to go run away from us they ended up running around in a circle in the clearing. The poor zebra started running in a different direction and since the wildebeests didn’t know any better they started following the zebra. As we were walking off it appeared that the zebra no longer wanted to hang out with a bunch of animals with brains smaller than its own, but every time it went anywhere the plebe wildebeests would follow. We started walking back to our camp when we came across a herd of buffalo standing in a clearing. Now buffalo are a totally dangerous African animal with a bad attitude. The locals are way scared of them and make every attempt not to piss them off. The buffalo have this reputation for always being in a bad mood, even though they don’t look that menacing with their 1950’s boufontic looking hair-dos (that would be their curved horns). When we saw the herd the guides told us to be really quiet while we watched and waited for then to run away. After a while the buffalo got bored and headed off to the next clearing in a cloud of dust with the thundering of hooves. We started back towards our camp again, but after another twenty minutes of walking we found yet another herd of buffalo grazing in a huge field. We sat there behind the trees and bushed watching them for a while, but the buffalo knew we were there and wouldn’t move – they just stared back. Our guide shook a sapling and clapped, which effectively sent the buffalo to the far side of the clearing so we could pass. We started walking out into the open field towards our camp – each of us eyeing the buffalo as we went. The buffalo were too curious and really wanted to know more about these people walking through the field, so the entire herd (about 150 of them started slowly making their way towards us as we meandered by. This was really disconcerting to us humans, so we took a few quick steps towards the trees (which we were going to use as viewing towers should the buffalo get any closer). We stood there and stared the buffalo down until they moved back a bit so we could continue to cross this field. We left the safety of the trees and actually crossed in front of the herd. This was really groovy for the herd as now they could get an up close and personal look at a human. Slowly but surely the buffalo began to walk across the field trying to get a better look at us. When the buffalo got a little too close one of the guides began to jog a bit towards the trees (which were 30 meters away). When a local begins to take quick steps, normal white people run. We all ran a few yards away then stopped to see where the buffalo were – just in case they’d decided to follow. We rather looked like the animals that had been pulling the same method of viewing us as we entered each clearing. We were now the smaller animal on the food chain and apparently, instinctively, used the same technique. The buffalo were far enough away for us to continue to cross the field, but we all still had a certain amount of adrenaline running through our veins until we got to the next set of trees – where we know we could easily escape. It was walking across the field where it hit me that I have come this far to see these animals in their own environment. This is their turf, and when a herd of buffalo decide they’re going to eat some Europeans for dinner there’s nothing anyone can do about it. It’s exciting seeing this stuff first hand – especially like the buffalo – but it makes you realize that this is the true, wild Africa – the one we came here to see. We finally made it back to camp after our three hour nature hike and immediately made a bee-line for our drinking water as we were all parched. We’d brilliantly forgotten to bring our large jerry can of drinking water so we were forced to boil pot after pot of Delta water for drinking. Not the best tasting stuff, but it did the trick and none of us managed to get sick. Later that afternoon there was an optional ride in the boats which I opted out of because I was beat. We made dinner a short while later and when we looked across the field from our row of tents we spotted a giraffe munching on a tree, followed by a herd of wildebeests who thought a jog across the field might be good fun. It’s amazing to see these animals just wandering around in the wild. We had the most surreal sunset that evening. So beautiful – you’d never believe the colors nature can come up with, plus we had the perfect crescent moon hanging in the sky with Venus just below it. A photograph wouldn’t have done this scene justice – it was too beautiful. After another night of gazing at the stars (while trying to track down the Southern Cross – as usual) it was time to turn in – we were going back to Maun the next day. ### Canoe Ride at Midnight? Date: November 27th, 1992 | Country: Botswana | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/canoe-ride-at-midnight/ Okavango Delta, Botswana – We were all tired from camping out on the Delta so we packed up our camp and got back in the makoros to work our way back to civilization. One relaxing makoro ride, one exhilarating speed boat ride and one very long, hot and dusty safari vehicle ride across the desert later we were back at our campsite. The truck was in town doing errands so we headed to the bar where I wad what tasted like the most refreshing vodka tonic I can ever recall. We stayed in the bar for a while until the truck returned so we could get cleaned up enough to go back to the bar to party. We got pretty wrecked, entertained by the Botswanans playing their favorite bar game (next to darts). Most bars have a huge twenty foot pole in the center of the room – it’s wooden, polished and might possibly be lacquered, but it’s slick. The locals all try to climb to the pole and if you reach the top you get a bottle of booze. (Unverified info.) It was a really cool watching various people make their attempts at climbing the pole – it kept us entertained for a very long time. When I got bored with that I went back to my tent to go to bed. Everyone staggered back to their tents, but an hour or so later Steve, our driver and Mike, the Brit, came around to rally everyone back to the bar for round two. I’d run out of Botswanan pula (the local currency) so I was just sitting around the bar when Steve and Mike said they’d “found” a canoe on the shore and had been paddling out onto the delta. We went down to the water and all climbed into the canoe. With Steve as or driver he paddled us out into the middle of the Delta where we proceeded to have a smoke under the stars. It was brilliant. We had some minor navigational problems going back to shore for the current was pushing us against the opposite side of the waterway. After very little perseverance we made it back to shore just in time to follow everyone back to camp to go to bed. Quick Delta side note: On Thanksgiving Rich and I didn’t ever know it was a holiday. It started when I asked Rich the day of the week because I couldn’t remember. I knew what the date was because I’d been writing in the journal, but the day of the week didn’t seem to matter. “Thursday,” he responded. Thursday! It was the third Thursday in November – Thanksgiving! We had our a Thanksgiving dinner of canned spaghetti mixed with baked beans cooked over an open fire – yum, yum. ### Breakdown in the Kalahari – Race to the Zim Border Date: November 28th, 1992 | Country: Botswana | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/breakdown-in-the-kalahari-race-to-the-zim-border/ Maun, Botswana to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe – We woke up and packed up camp, for we had one and a half days of straight driving to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. Had a quick pick me up smoke before getting on the truck then just vegged out for about ninety minutes. Once the truck had entered the Kalahari Desert we pulled over and sat there for about fifteen minutes while Steve tinkered around under the hod. Shortly thereafter Boz came on the truck and told us we’d lost all the oil pressure and that the truck wouldn’t be going to Vic Falls, or anywhere else for that matter for at least a week – it was dead. This didn’t shock us too much – two tires and one engine later we were standing in the Kalahari Desert with nothing to do. Luckily some dudes driving a pickup truck stopped to help us out, and what do ya know, they were about to drive straight through to Vic Falls – approximately 600 kilometers (375 miles). We talked about it and decided to pile in the back of the pickup to drive the 300 odd miles to the Falls so we’d be in Zim that evening. The pickup was way windy and not that comfortable with all of us smashed in there, but five and a half hours later we arrived at the Botswana/Zimbabwe border. We arrived at 3:45 p.m. and the Zim border closed at 4:00 p.m. so we were going to have to be bloody quick to get fourteen people and a pickup through the border before it closed. We all cleared Botswanan immigration with no problems – it wasn’t until we got to the customs people that the fun began. They said that the dudes who owned the truck didn’t have the correct paperwork to let the truck out of the country and that they’d have to go back to Maun to get a letter from some official. The guys with the pickup told us to walk across the border and keep the immigration people busy until they could get the truck through. We walked across the gravely no mans land part of the border and cleared Zim immigration, keeping both the immigration and customs people busy just by the sheer number of people we had in our party. The guys in the truck arrived a few minutes later and we got the truck through no problem. (I never did find out how they appeased the Botswanan customs officer.) back in the truck for the next two hour leg of the journey to Victoria Falls. We had to drive through a section of the Hwange National Park on the way and the driver was forced to keep slamming on his brakes as not to hit the water buck and various other animals that kept running out into the road. Hit Vic falls and Boz got us a six bed chalet to stay in until our truck arrived. We were all beat, so after a few vodka tonics in the campground bar it was off to bed. ### First View of Victoria Falls Date: November 29th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/first-view-of-victoria-falls/ Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe – We all awoke at around 8:00 a.m. the next morning – mainly because we were so hungry, so Mike (the Brit), Rich and I went out to get some food. We started walking to the Vic Falls Hotel to get breaky, but we could see white mist rising up into the air over the tree line so we headed directly towards the falls instead. We got to the National Park, paid the fee and headed straight to the viewing areas. Victoria Falls are 90 meters high and are one of the seven natural wonders of the world. They are spectacular – so majestic & so big! We were absolutely mesmerized by the falls themselves. The falls are larger than Niagra Falls and absolutely amazing. We were there are the perfect time of the morning where one is able to see two rainbows created by the mist being sent up into the sky by the thundering falls. We wandered through the park, stopping at every view point along the way. It was so amazing – every time we got to a new lookout the falls looked more and more spectacular. The mist from the falls rains down on once certain part of the park and there’s a definite climactic change in that area. The mist has created a true rain forest in the middle of a very dry national park. Amazing. Plus, there are tone of monkeys and baboons playing in the trees and walking around all over the place. We wandered through the park for a couple of hours looking at the falls and watching the monkeys, but eventually we felt like we were participants in a hunger strike and our brains were beginning to deteriorate so we left the park in search of food. We headed over to the Victoria Falls Hotel – the one place in the city which just exuded with colonialism. This hotel is so colonial. It is reminiscent of the Hotel Del Coronado, in atmosphere and architecture, and one could tell that this was once a true colonial hangout for the British expatriates. It’s elegantly decorated and their terrace looks out directly over the gorge where the Zambezi river runs. It is truly beautiful. We got there too late for breakfast so the three of us sat on the terrace and had tea and scones instead. We were definitely in our element. After enjoying the colonialism of the hotel, we wandered through the local crafts market before heading back to the chalet at the campground to relax. Rich and I went back to the falls a second tie later that afternoon – they are truly mesmerizing – they draw you back again and again. After standing and looking at the falls for a few more hours we walked back to the chalet, stopping off at the post office to place a collect call to Sacramento to get the latest news flash from the family in California. We wandered around the city some more before heading to the chalet for some rest. ### Sunset Booze Cruise on the Zambezi Date: November 30th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/sunset-booze-cruise-on-the-zambezi/ Vic Falls sits on the Zambezi river, which doubles as the border between Zimbabwe and Zambia. Rich and I got up, had our all you can eat buffet breakfast (which was quickly becoming the norm) and decided to go across the bridge to the Zambian side of the falls for a look. We cleared immigration and immediately I could tell I was in a different country. Zimbabwe is so modern and with it, but once you cross the border one can tell that Zambia is a true Third World country. The buildings are a bit more run down, the roads in poor condition – it was a totally different feeling and all we’d done was take a twenty five minute walk across the river. After looking at the crafts market just after Zambian immigration we wandered over to the falls where I laid down on the rocks and hung my head right over the edge so I could look right into the falls. You could almost feel nature’s true power when looking over the edge; the falls are so spectacular. Too bad the falls are only fifty percent the size that they used to be. There’s been a major drought going on and the falls have been progressively getting smaller and smaller. We were forced to walk across 150 yards of rock that used to be covered with rushing water form the Zambezi – no longer. After sitting for a while at the falls we headed back towards the Zimbabwean border, but not before going back to the crafts market to see if there was anything I might need to send home before leaving Vic Falls. Since we didn’t know when the truck was going to be arriving we just bargained the dealers down a bit on certain items so they’d be cheaper when we returned to really buy them. Couldn’t stay in the market too long – we were due back in Zimbabwe, for we were booked on a sunset booze cruise on the Zambezi river. We got back just in time to catch the shuttle to the boat. Since the Zambezi is chock full of crocodiles and hippos, why not go for an evening game-viewing cruise and get pissed in the process? The boat pulled away from the dock just as the first beer was opened and wine bottle uncorked. Our mobile cocktail party cruised down the river under a brilliant sunset while we watched the hippos pop their heads out of the water to see what the human folk were up to. We did see quite a few of them, floating in the water with their mouths agape before they submerged to go looking for dinner. An hour or so and quite a few glasses of wine later we pulled back up to shore where we poured ourselves into the shuttle which would take us back into town. We went straight to one of the local hotels for more booze (just what we needed) and I ended up having a crocodile filet with cheese sauce. It was out of this worked – super tasty. Croc has the consistency of an overcooked fish stick, but doesn’t have a strong fish taste at all – it’s really nice. After a few more drinks I left with Jenny and Stephanie because we were too drunk to cope. Hitched a ride with a Zim dude who graciously dropped us off at our chalet. Head hit the pillow and I was out like a light. ### Another Day of Drinking at Vic Falls Date: December 1st, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/another-day-of-drinking-at-vic-falls/ Woke up, sans hangover (unlike a few others in our group) and headed to the Vic Falls Hotel for breakfast. After our tea and scones experience Rich and I wanted to see what a buffet breakfast there might be like. Remember I mentioned the “travel river” – the route that most travellers follow, gathering the information on where to go as they talk to others? Well that theory id 100% true. You do continue to see the same people over and over when you’re travelling around like this. On our way to the hotel for breakfast we ran into this Aussie guy and Danish girl who we’d met in Lilongwe, Malawi and then again at Cape MacLear. Had a word with them and went to breakfast tripping off the fact that we’d seen them again. On our way back to the campsite we stopped off at the post office for a minute where we met two more people we’d travelled on one of the Malawian hell buses with down to Blantyre. Had a chat with them and continued on to the campsite where we met yet two more people from Malawi – Jessica and Lucy – two very British girls from London. Since we were both lusting after these girls we immediately began to organize to do thins with them – it was nice breaking away from the people on the truck. We ended up taking the girls to show them Vic Falls (again) and I arranged for them to come white water rafting on the Zambezi with us the following day. It was getting too hot so we all too naps and arranged to meet for dinner later. After our naps and dinner we headed over to Vic Falls newest nightclub – Explorers. This place was the S.Africans version of a college drinking club, only in Africa. Tin y bar – loud music and lots of drunk people in their mid twenties. It was good fun but we were stuffed from walking all day so we headed back and went to sleep. ### White Water Rafting on the Zambezi Date: December 2nd, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/white-water-rafting-on-the-zambezi/ Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe – We went white water rafting today, which was one of the most exhilarating things I’ve done so far. We had our pre-rafting meeting where we signed the “if you die we’re not liable” form and heard our safety talk before heading down the cliff below the Vic Falls hotel to get our lifejackets and get in the boats. We had to climb down this sheer, cliff-like path through the rocks and mud before we actually for to the river and into our boats. After another safety talk we were finally on our way. The Zambezi river is a class five white water river on the one to six rapids scale, with most of the rapids we were going to be going through ranging from a three to a five. They won’t let normal people go down class six rapids because they’re just a little too dangerous. We managed our first few rapids with no problem – we were throwing our bodies to either side of the boat (as the oarsman called out which side) in am attempt to keep the boat from flipping. When we got to rapid number six (they’re all numbered) that’s where the fun began. When we were going into the rapid our boat hit a rock and spun around backwards before going in. With none of us prepared for that turn when we hit the first rapid the girls at the back of the boat (now the front) didn’t know which way to throw their weight. Once we hit the rapid Rich went flying out of the boat, along with Judy, sot the two of them did the rapid in freestyle, freeform manner. Rich went whizzing by the boat and I missed grabbing him, but I did get a hold of Judy’s arm and tried to pull her into the boat. The only problem was that the current had a hold of her and pulled her under the boat. So there I was, holding onto Judy’s arm while her head was pinned under the water under the boat. After a couple of seconds in that position my lifeguarding sense told me that holding on to Judy while she was forcibly submerged probably wasn’t the smartest thing to be doing. I let go of her, she got pulled under the boat and popped out on the surface a few yards down where someone else grabbed her and pulled her into the boat. After everyone was accounted for we continued rafting through the white water (save rapid number nine which was too dangerous for us to go down so we had to carry the boat around it.) Had a lunch break up in this oasis on the side of the gorge. We had small pools of water to relax in, shaded by the lush canopy of the surrounding woods – it was such a change from the excitement of the Zambezi. After lunch we had only rapids eleven through twenty one to conquer, and conquer then we did, save rapid eighteen. We were well practiced in keeping most everyone in the boat. (Rich decided the ropes had been greased before we started, for he was the one who kept flying out of the boat.) I fell out on rapid eleven but managed to maintain my hold on the rope so Rich just hoisted me back in without much hassle. We had a few people fall out here and there – that was until we hit rapid number eighteen. Rapid eighteen is called “Oblivion” and is the wildest rapid you go on during the trip. It consists of three waves, the first two manageable, but the third . . . don’t even think about it. We eased our way towards the top of the rapid and slowly started gaining speed as the water rushed over the rocks to form the top of the rapid. Hit the first wave and dove to the front of the boat to keep the nose down. No problem with the second wave either. Hit the third wave and the boat swung vertically straight up in the air. White water came pouring over the top of the boat making it impossible to see or do anything. Brenda and Raewyn were sucked out of the bot on my left, then all of a sudden the boat just wasn’t there any longer. I realized I was in the river so I took a deep breath, ready to go under. The current had a hold of me and pulled me under the water, but as I was going down I felt this hand grab my lifejacket and pull me back up to the surface. It was Rich, and once I’d surfaced he asked me where the boat was. He knew he didn’t have a hold of the boat, but he thought I did so he pulled me up to find out about it. We floated down the river until we caught up with the boat which had only three people in it – the oarsman, Luck & Jessica. It was so strange flying out of the boat – we really didn’t know what had happened so we had to go to the Ilala Lodge that evening to see the videotaped account of that thirty second part of our lives. After everyone was accounted for we paddled down the river for our last three rapids. The rapids we so weak (especially after number eighteen) that our oarsman even let me, then Brenda and Judy row the boat for a while. We hit the shore after the twenty first rapid only to be faced with a climb that even the most fit person would have problems with. It was another sheer cliff face, and after rafting all day, climbing the equivalent of forty stories didn’t appeal to me. Everyone was dying when they finally made it up, but at least everyone did make it! We got the shuttle back to Vic Falls and after dinner and viewing the video of the day’s events it was off to bed. ### Hwange Safari in Luxury Date: December 3rd, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/hwange-safari-in-luxury/ Hwange National Park, Zimbabwe – Because we still had a few days to kill before the truck arrived, Boz arranged for us to go on a full day safari at Hwange National Park, known for its high concentration of elephant and lion. Our safari company was Kalambezi and our two trucks arrived at 6:00 a.m. to pick us up. Tom and Mike were too tired to go, but the rest of us literally crawled out of our tents and got into the trucks. We drove about two hours to Hwange, passing the Botswanan border road on the way. Our truck was sort of like a large metal box with benches. We drove through the dirt roads of Hwange, with our driver going four wheeling around the barricades that said “No Entry”. In keeping with the theme of the safari we managed to get a flat tire on the way into the park, which took us a bit of time to change. Score: Tires – 3, Engines – 1. Our driver was this white Zimbabwean man in his mid 40’s who also happened to own the Kalambezi company. He was so knowledgeable about all the animals and surrounding area. During our morning drive we saw some giraffe up close, accompanied by a few zebra who were hanging out with them. Ian, our guide, explained that zebra are very social animals and that they usually hang out with other animals for protection. We drove around the park for a few more hours, but we didn’t see any elephants – only hoofed animals like water buck and impala – lion fodder. It was so hot in this park – it was at least 106 degrees fahrenheit and we were sitting in the back of an uncovered safari truck. When noon rolled around we headed to this campground situated inside the park to take a break for lunch. It wasn’t just hot, it was oppressively hot as we were told we were going to stay in our bungalow at the campsite for a few hours. This safari was another of those luxurious ones where we were served barbecued steak and sausages for lunch with a full spread of salads, bead, etc. We al gorged ourselves then lounged around playing cards and drinking soda during the heat of the day. I turned to Rich at one point and said “This is something our parents might do,” meaning the cushiness of the whole thing, but then it sank in that this was something I had planned for myself. Fabulous. It was really relaxing doing this totally high class safari for the day. When 3:00 p.m. rolled around we headed back into the park in search of elephants. We didn’t see that many animals for the first hour or so (it was just too hot for them as well), but then I spotted an elephant off in the distance making its way through the trees. We kept going, as Ian was taking us to a watering hole where the elephants usually hang out. On our way over we spotted the elephants, about fifteen to eighteen of them, all walking in a line across the road towards the watering hole. We came driving up towards them in our vehicle and one of the younger males saw us approaching at quite a fast pace, so in an effort to protect his herd he began charging our safari vehicle. Ian threw the truck into reverse as Rich and I jumped down off the seats we’d been standing on. I did manage to snap a photo of the charging beast, but before the elephant got close enough to the car to be truly dangerous it stopped and snorted at us. Ian explained it’s just a scare tactic – when they’re really coming for you they’ll put their ears back and roll their trunk up. We sat and watched these elephants for quite a while – it was so amazing being this close to these wild animals. At one point one of the elephants wasn’t fifteen feet (if not closer) to our truck, just checking us out. The elephants headed off into the trees and Ian started the vehicle up and we went towards the watering holes where the pachyderms were headed. There’s an actual viewing bungalow situated right next to the water, but by the time wed arrived there the elephants were right behind us, and a few more in the area in front of the viewing bungalow so we had to sit in our open air truck while the herd passed around us. The second the last elephant passed we all ran to the viewing bungalow to watch them water themselves. We watched them drink and spray water everywhere – this experience was so different from anything else I’d seek. This was so natural – so real to watch. We were watching a herd of females when on the opposite side of the water a huge bull elephant with huge curled tusks came lumbering over for a drink. He went down and saw the females, but he was very suspicious of the bungalow we were situated in; he couldn’t decide if there were humans in it or not. Eventually he decided not and came to the water directly across from where we were standing. I got some amazing photos of the bull drinking with his reflection in the water below. It was getting late and beginning to get dark so Ian said it was time for us to leave. We’d lost the other truck throughout the course of the day and Ian was concerned they might be lost in the park, so we went for a thirty minute drive through at dusk looking for them. We couldn’t find them, and now it was completely dark so it was time for us to make the two and a half hour drive back to Vic Falls. We’d been driving through the park for a while and were nearing the Botswanan border road when we saw this thing in the bushed that sided up to the road. This thing had gone down on its haunches and was just watching our truck approach. When we got in sight or it (about 15 feet away from the headlights) we realized it was a large male lion just staring down the vehicle. He was a big male with a full mane and absolutely no fear of our truck. After deciding that staring into the headlights wasn’t too fun he began to walk off into the bush, Ian turned the truck so we could see the beast walking away into the night. We’d already has the most spectacular game viewing day, but this just topped it all off. ### Waiting for the Money Date: December 4th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/waiting-for-the-money/ Our truck finally arrived, new truck, as the old one was truly dead, and a new driver so we’d lost Steve. The new driver is a thirty year old British guy names Mick. He’s one of the most negative people I’ve met so we won’t be writing much about him. Because the truck was now there it was almost time for us to leave so I went over to Zambia to go shopping one last time before we left Vic Falls. I went over and picked up a carved shield that had been painted with different colors. Posted those home straight away as the post office was one minute from the campground. That evening Boz had a meeting with us and explained that because the truck had broken down and we had to spend money on the chalets we were short on cash but Kumuka London was wiring us more money. The problem was that no one knew when it was going to land, so we were hoping for Friday. If not Friday then we were spending the weekend and leaving on Monday. Rich and I went out with Jessica and Lucy again that evening and even tried to be colonial and go to the casino, but we were told that virtually every article of clothing we were wearing was inappropriate. Nixed the casino for the evening and went drinking instead. ### Sitting Atop Victoria Falls Date: December 5th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/sitting-atop-victoria-falls/ No money landed yesterday, so guess who’s still lounging around Vic Falls. We were! Lounging around was exactly what we did that day – Rich, Jessica, Lucy, jenny, Brenda & I all headed to the Sprayview Hotel (where they don’t make you pay to swim) to sit by the pool for the day. After many hours of sunbathing we went back to the truck for dinner and drinks. There had been a major storm brewing and from the campsite I could see bolts of lightening shooting down near where the falls were. Stephanie and Jenny had been to the falls the night before, so Tom and I joined them as we walked over to see the lightening storm over Vic Falls. We walked down the rocks in the dark and actually sat with our legs over the edge where the water was falling seventy meters below us into the gorge that makes up the Zambezi river. Mother Nature sure can put on some shows – she supplied us with one hell of a lightening storm over the top of the falls (one of the seven wonders of the natural world). Tom, jenny and I left Steph at the falls, for it was beginning to rain. When I say rain it’s African rain. It doesn’t just rain in Africa – it’s a downpour or nothing and we got a downpour. I haven’t played in the rain like that for years but we were already soaking wet, so why not? It must have been about midnight when we got back so I crawled into the tent sopping wet to bother Rich a bit before going to sleep. ### Still Lounging Around the Falls Date: December 6th, 1992 | Country: Zimbabwe | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/still-lounging-around-the-falls/ Today we took Lucy and Jessica across the border to the crafts market to go shopping one last time (I said that before) prior to our departure the following morning, provided the money came through. We got to the market ad started bargaining away. I bought a malachite chess et for Z$80.00 (US$18) and traded a pair of shoelaces and a pen for a carving of a man’s head and a necklace. Lucy and Jessica had a good time bartering, but only Jessica ended up buying anything – three chess sets. Rich went wind and exited Zambia with a backpack full of malachite jewelry and a chess set. It was only after we’d returned to Zimbabwe that e told me malachite is a semi-precious stone in the U.S. – and I’d been to that market four times and only bought one piece of it! We’d arranged to meet the girls at the Vic Falls Hotel for their elegant all you can eat buffet dinner, so we cleaned ourselves up and headed over there for our “last supper” before being banished back onto our Parkinson’s disease inducing mode of transport. We had a great dinner with wine and more that two visits to their dessert bar – it was a nice way to end our time at Vic Falls. The girls went to a nightclub, but we didn’t have enough dosh (we were leaving the country) so we went back to the truck and drank part of a bottle of Afri-Coco to top off the evening. It was a clear night and the moon was out so Rich and I headed to Vic Falls to see the water under the moonlight. Upon our arrival at the top of the ‘Devil’s Cataract’ we found Stephanie and Jim already sitting there on the rocks admiring a lunar rainbow that was formed from the mist. Little did I know that the moonlight could also cause a rainbow effect off the mist from the falls. When you first look at it, it just looks like a white arc, but once your eyes adjust to it you can actually see the colors coming out of it. After much admiration and gawking over the edge of the falls we all headed back to go to sleep – we were finally leaving for Zambia the next day, and it wasn’t just the market over the bridge. ### Ranakpur Temple, Rajasthan Date: December 6th, 1992 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/ranakpur-temple-rajasthan/ Ranakpur, Rajasthan, India – Woke up early this a.m. in Udiapur and I grabbed a rickshaw over to the post office to get rid of my swords. On the way over to the post office I noticed most shops and businesses were closed and when I queried this fact, my driver told me that everyone was on strike due to the BJP rally to be held in Delhi in two days’ time. To give the reader a little background, on December 6th, 1992 the BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) political party [hard-core Hindus] held a rally at Ayodah where there stood a Muslim mosque on a site where the Hindus believe is sacred to their god Ram (they think it is his birth place). In the frenzy of the rally the crowd of Hindus went out of control and tore down the mosque in a mass riot, with many casualties and injuries. This was the catalyst which caused the destructive riots in Bombay in early January. The Hindus have since erected a makeshift temple honouring Ram, and at present the Indian Supreme Court is to rule what is to happen with the disputed site – whether the mosque will be rebuilt or a Hindu temple erected, or both. The BJP is so popular all of a sudden because the Indian central government removed the BJP ruling governments from the following states immediately after the Ayodah incident: Utar Praedesh, Haryana, Maharashtra, Rajasthstan The national press is attempting to organise a grass-roots movement to make the site a memorial for both religions. The BJP had scheduled to hold a political rally in Delhi on February 25th, but about a week ago the central government banned the rally fearing more riots reminiscent of those in Bombay. The BJP is a legitimate political party, and they voiced some very strong opinions about the government banning their rally. To draw a parallel, that would be like the U.S. government banning the Democratic or G.O.P. from having an open rally somewhere. After the ban on the rally was announced the BJP declared that the rally would be held anyway with supporters (one million expected) traveling to Delhi from all over the country. The Central government then stated (about three days ago) that the borders with the neighbouring states, Utar Praedsh and Haryana) would be closed to prevent supporters from going to the capital city. We talked to a woman yesterday who said no trains or buses were going up there at present. This leads us to the strike in Udiapur. I saw a lot of military men walking around the city, and based on our observations driving around the city in a rickshaw and by bus, the ratio of businesses open to businesses closed was close to 1:25. It was very eerie, and seeing that we were leaving Udiapur that morning, both of us hoped the buses weren’t on strike. We arrived at the station just in time to catch the bus to Ranakpur where there is supposed to be a large temple honouring the Jain gods. Four hours later the bus dropped us off in the middle of nowhere in the Rajasthan countryside. We passed through the gates into the temple complex and secured a room not 50 metres from the steps to the temple’s entrance. We dropped our stuff off and removed all articles made of leather (as they’re banned inside the temple) before heading over. We climbed the two flights of steps up to the temple’s entrance, which reminded me of entering our own U.S. Capitol building. The Jain temple wasn’t just big – it was enormous, and both Rich & I drew in our breath in awe as we ascended the steps into the centre of this all marble pious structure. The steps place you at the centre of the temple directly in front of the largest deity. The hall itself must have a minimum of two hundred intricately carved columns, each the size of an ornamental column outside a building, and no two which are identical. The beauty of the carvings and the obvious effort it took for the Jains to construct such a temple made me that much more appreciative that we’d gone out of our way to see it. Of all the things I’ve seen in India I believe this is the most beautiful place we’ve visited. As you are required to leave you shoes at the door upon entry we got to roam around this marble behemoth barefooted, which only made the visit that much more pleasurable, as it was possible to relax. The temple is huge inside with three different levels for you to walk around on – checking out the carvings. Due to its enormous size it took us about thirty minutes to wander through the entire complex (1,444 carved columns total with two smaller temples inside). I shot off almost an entire roll of film and after wandering around a bit I’d lost Rich – that’s how big it is. – so I headed back to the room to dump my camera and day pack off before returning to the temple for another wander. The jayfay had visited and I eventually found Rich walking around the temple a short while later. We walked all over the temple when we noticed one slab of marble missing from floor, with stairs descending below. Rich sat down to write Nate a letter and I went walking around. One of the things that struck me was that there were virtually no other people in the temple. For the first time in a long time there weren’t half a dozen people everywhere you went – it was deserted. This only added to the relaxed environment in this white temple of peace. As I walked around I passed the stairs in the floor again, only this time I leaned over and swung my torso down into the hole to have a look: three steps down, ninety degree turn to the left then only darkness. The opening to the stairs was only about two and a half feet wide so I thought it might just be a tiny storage area and moved on. Went back and got Rich, then the two of us returned to the room to retrieve our cameras for yet more photos of this architectural masterpiece. Upon returning we were sitting in the same hall as the hole with the mystery stairs when Rich saw a couple of men walk behind the pillar nearest the mystery stairs, squat down, then disappear. They could only have gone down into the bowels of the temple via the stairs we’d been eyeing for the past hour. Five to ten minutes later the men reappeared, led by one of the temple assistants. We asked the assistant to take us down and he referred us to the priest of the temple. I asked the priest if he could take us to the underground temple (I’d found that much out) and he replied he’d do it for twenty rupees. Not knowing if it was blasphemy in the Jain religion for haggling with a priest I naively made the counter offer of ten rupees. He consented and led us back over to the staircase in the floor. He went and procured a candle, then nimbly made his way down into the hole. The entrance was really narrow, to the point where you have to twist your body around the marble floor piece to get down there, and once we were past the three initial steps the staircase turned and made a rapid descent to the lower level of the temple fifteen feet down. The air had all of a sudden became ten degrees warmer and so humid. The stone steps had that clammy feeling of condensation and the air felt heavy in your lungs as we breathed. The priest led us down the steps with his candle into a room lined with pillars – yet another, smaller underground temple. We walked down a hallway where the priest pointed out where stone incarnations of Jain deities had once stood, since destroyed, then he crouched down and made his way through a small opening to the left, taking our only source of illumination, the candle, with him. Wee followed the priest’s candle light through the hole and when se stood up we found ourselves in the centre of another circular chamber. The sounds of our voices were echoing off the walls when the priest demonstrated the acoustics of the room. He held one note with his voice and the sound resonated so perfectly around the room, actually vibrating my organs in my chest. The room was used for meditating with perfect acoustical reverberation for the chants; those clever Jains! The priest held another note for us for the longest time then he led us out through the hole in the wall. through another dark passage to the second underground temple, surrounded again by columns all around. Just as we were about to ascend the steps out we were stopped by a group of Jains climbing down in. One of the men was so surprised to see a sahib down in the bellows of one of their most religious mecca points he made more than a few exclamations in Hindi. Judging from his reaction he was saying things like “I can’t believe it! They (we tourists) even got down here!” We climbed out, thanked the priest, gave him his ten rupees then headed over to one of the other buildings in the complex for some dinner. Figuring the cuisine we were about to have was going to be as Jain as could be (this was a mecca point) we had no idea what to expect. The meal began – it was a thali consisting of puri, rice and some sort of sauce, along with this potato dish and another cheese dish of some sort. The puri, rice, papadams, and endless portions of all the items on my plate kept coming as though there were some never ending supply. I had this feeling this must be what Henry VIII felt like – the instant one of the main courses on your plate was empty one of the servers would appear to replenish your helping. We gorged and just shoveled the food down; I think it was the best meal I’d had in the past month, if not the entire time we’d been in India – all for Rs9 (US$0.27) We went for a walk around the temple complex after dinner, thinking we should look at the smaller temples, not just the most beautiful, most amazing, massive one. It was dusk and we made it just in time to the three smaller temples to see the insides lit by candle light and to make a Rs1 offering. We walked by the big temple again on the way back to the room, but got sidetracked and sucked back into the big temple. I couldn’t walk by without seeing it lit by candlelight. When I entered there was some sort of ceremony going on with some worshippers in the main hall who seemed to be praying for a person or group of people The worshipper would say a name to the temple assistant who would scream it very loudly to another assistant on the second balcony. The second assistant would then, in turn, scream the name across the whole of the complex. We left during the name screaming to return to our room and view the temple from our porch. Just as the stars began to appear over the silhouette of the temple, all of a sudden all these bells began to ring inside the temple. The bells were loud from where I was sitting, so they must have been deafening inside, accompanied by a bass drum being beaten in time. It was a surreal effect – having all of these sounds emanate from this temple at dusk. These were the sounds you would expect to hear come out of a temple in 1600, not 1993. but the temple is still functioning and is still a pilgrimage point for the Jains. Both of us were really relaxed after our day of exploring the temple; I’ll probably go out in the morning and take some more photos before our bus to Jodhpur arrives. ### Finally Leaving Zimbabwe for Zambia Date: December 7th, 1992 | Country: Zambia | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/finally-leaving-zimbabwe-for-zambia/ Today I shipped home my tenth two kilo box out of Zimbabwe. My parents are going to wonder what I didn’t buy in southern Africa. When Rich and I were at the post office in line, who should come find us but Simon, – the Aussie doctor we’d sailed down the Nile with the Egypt! After seeing all those people from Malawi we were getting used to the idea tat you see people again, but we last saw Simon in Luxor many months ago. We caught up with him and after sending our chess sets off we all loaded ourselves back into the truck to finally leave Zimbabwe. We all knew we were leaving Zim, but we also knew we were leaving any sort of Westernization behind us as well. As we were doing a northbound trip we were heading into the true Third World countries – we hadn’t been able to appreciate Zimbabwe’s modernization because we hadn’t been anywhere hard yet. I said it to a few people, “The safari starts now.” We were all going to get to know each other a lot better because the harder bits are still on their way. The truck left the Vic Falls campground, crossed over into Zambia and stopped at the market I’ve been frequenting for the past week so everyone else could “have a go” at buying some malachite animals. After our brief stop we headed north transiting our way through Zambia. Zambia’s not known for much, other than Lusaka, the capital city which is supposed to have more crime than Nairobi. (Hard to believe.) We drove endless hours with piss stops where I’d go running off into the jungle, not because I had to pee, but just because I was off the truck. After at least ten hours of driving the truck pulled off the road and drove over a barbed wire fence into this field. This is where we were to camp for the night. ### Transit through Lusaka Date: December 8th, 1992 | Country: Zambia | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/transit-through-lusaka/ Camping there wasn’t that bad except for the torrential rain which leaked into the tent a bit and threatened to collapse it all together. We got up extra early, for we needed to get to Mpulungu, the port town on Lake Tanganyika (the deepest lake in the world) by Friday to catch the ferry to Kigoma. The ferry only goes once a week and if you miss it it’s a thirty six hour hell drive overland on the truck. We drove all day and finally arrived in Lusaka at about 4:00 p.m. Boz told us to go out into the city in groups of four or more because it’s so dangerous, but the truck made the miraculous move of parking not fifty yards from the door of the United States Information Agency. You know what that means – NEWSPAPERS! CURRENT EVENTS! Rich, Tom and I all headed over there and once we were inside it was an information frenzy. Rich grabbed the entire stack of International Herald Tribunes, the most recent being from 26th November (Thanksgiving) and started reading away. The three of us sat there for thirty minutes just sucking up as much information about the world as possible. We moved from the newspapers to the news magazines, but they were all a bit ‘vielle’, so we thought we’d go back to the truck to see if the others were back from food shopping yet. We turned out to be the last people to arrive back from our “field trip” to the U.S. Embassy extension. We exited downtown Lusaka and ended up camping at this dude’s house in one of the suburbs – nice house but not too much to do but drink and prepare yourself mentally for the next day’s hell-drive. We weren’t sure if we were actually going to make it to Mpulungu in time to catch the boat. ### Kenyan Elections May Be A Problem Date: December 9th, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/kenyan-elections-may-be-a-problem/ We drove all day long. I resorted to drinking beer all day to keep myself entertained (which created a few more piss stops than needed) but we finally pulled into this Zambian village right off the main road to camp for the night. We played a few camp fire (Camp Noel Porter-type) games after dinner and demolished more than one rum bottle in the process, but everyone was having a good time. STOP PRESS – KENYAN UPDATE The day Rich and I arrived in Nairobi was the same day the Kenyan Parliament had been dissolved. President Moi – dictator for the last twenty six years – was calling a free election to elect the new parliament. This was a landmark decision in Kenyan politics, for now the opposition, who’d been suppressed for so long, had a chance to get into the government. By the time we left on November 2nd the election date had been set for December 7th, but the opposition sued Moi stating they needed more time to her a candidate put together. The courts upheld the case so the new election date is December 29th – a few days after we’re due to enter Kenya. The election results aren’t due to be released until January first or second, and if they’re not what the people (or the government, who has control of the military) want then who knows what could happen in a volatile environment like that. Rich made the perfect statement – remember all the strife in Central America in the 80’s and you would hear about these Americans getting abducted by terrorist groups and you’d wonder to yourself, “What were those people doing there anyway?” This is what these people are doing there – it’s Africa of the early 90’s! Here’s a news clipping I found in the Times of Zambia dated 9th December 1992. “President Daniel Arap Moi said he would close Kenya’s border with Uganda until after Kenya’s first multi-party elections on December 29. Moi told a rally in Siaya, western Kenya, that the border would be sealed on Tuesday (Dec 15) on security grounds. — Zana/Reuters.” We were supposed to be staying in Kumuka’s compound outside Nairobi for New Year, but it looks like we won’t e getting into the country at all. Kenya seems to have an incredibly volatile political environment right now anyway, so no matter who wins this election there might be trouble. The opposition wins and the Moi-ruled military might move it. Moi wins and the people riot over a fixed election result. Here’s another quote from the Times of Zambia from 3rd December 1992: “Washington – Kenya’s plans for its first multi-party elections are seriously flawed and may be tilted in favor of President Daniel arap Moi, according to a report issued by the international human rights Law Group.” It’s not looking good and we might have to fly from Kampala, Uganda to Nairobi in order to catch our flight to Bombay. We’re talking about going to Zanzibar for a few weeks (the other reported paradise place – next to Malawi) to kill time and let the Kenyan people mellow out after the elections. At this point we’re playing it by ear – I’ll call the Embassy from Bujumbura and my parents to get a better idea of what’s going on. ### Almost to Mpulungu Date: December 10th, 1992 | Country: Zambia | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/almost-to-mpulungu/ We needed to be in Mpulungu tonight, or we might not make the ferry, but we had a lot of k’s to cover so who knows if we’d make it or not. We left at 6:20 a.m. and drove all day long. It was definitely a long day – about twelve hours later it was pouring torrential rain and Jim and I were wrapped up in a blanket drinking Afri-Coco and vodka to try and kill off both time and the cold. We were nearing Mpulungu and you could tell. The terrain as so green and the canopy was getting higher and higher. We were descending from the plateau down to Lake Tanganyika and it was getting warmer. At half past seven we arrived at our campsite – all of us tired from the day’s transit but happy that we’d made the boat. After dinner we had a smoke Boz had sorted out for us which floored everyone and sent us into a deep sleep to prepare for our two day two night ferry ride up the lake. ### Boarding the Ferry on Lake Tanganyika Date: December 11th, 1992 | Country: Zambia | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/boarding-the-ferry-on-lake-tanganyika/ Mplungu, Zambia – We got up and after packing our day packs for our ferry journey we took a walk around this port town. Not a lot in town but the port itself so we went and vegged our at our nicely landscaped campsite. While we were sitting there killing time waiting for the ferry I ran into a British dude, Thomas, who I recognized but couldn’t place. He told me we’d met at the Sable Lodge – chalk up one for the travel river again! One o’clock rolled around and it was time for us to head to the ferry. Our truck was supposed to make the three day drive around the lake in time to pick us up at the port in Kigoma, Tanzania, but since the radiator was laying on the grass ten feet from the truck when we left I’m not counting on it being there. For some unknown reason Jim, Tom and Mike all wanted to make the hell drive around the lake so they were staying behind with Boz and Mick. The rest of us headed over to the port, and since it was a few days travel by boat were carrying a ton of food and two jerry cans with treated water for us to drink. The girls got to carry the food and Rich and I ended up carrying the water – which weighed a ton. We had a fair walk ahead of us so after exhausting both of our arms we ended up following the old saying “when in Rome . . .” and put the jerry cans on our heads. The things were so damn heavy and using your head (excuse the pun) definitely was easier, but after a while your neck and back begin to hurt from the pressure. After actually carrying something on our heads both Rich and I earned a new found respect for those African women who can balance the weight we were carrying on our heads and have a new born infant strapped on their backs. I was the first to arrive at the port and since I was so close to being able to drop my load on the ferry I was practically running through the gate towards the boat. As I went through the gate this dude sitting near what looked like a guard’s post called out for me to come to him. He didn’t have any uniform on so I thought we just wanted to sell me something so I waved him off and kept on truckin’ towards the boat. Little did I know that there was a Zambian police officer sitting next to him due to a tree blocking my view. I then heard two voices screaming at me sternly – one of them being the police official. The only thing they tell you about Zambia is not to piss off the government officials because they’ll get on a power trip and really make your life difficult. I’d just broken that golden rule and when I realized what I’d done I had a major adrenaline rush to assist with my already scrambled thinking. I went over and talked to the police officer in the politest cocktail party manner I’ve ever mustered – the last thing I needed was to miss the boat due to some power hungry official causing me problems. He was visibly pissed off, but after some of my charming (in addition to my acting like the dumbest person he’d ever met) the beast mellowed out and told me to wait over on the grass until the immigration and customs office opened. The whole experience really unnerved me, especially since they’re not too keen on issuing U.S. citizens with visas (how we got ours in one day I’ll never know.) The others arrived and after waiting a bit we all managed to clear customs and immigration without a hitch. We got on the boat and it turned out to be pretty nice – personally I was expecting a cross between an Egyptian train and a Malawian bus. We’d been booked into two second class cabins over the engine room which weren’t too bad except for the thirty eight degree C constant temperature. The boat pulled away from port and we were off! Met this Zambian dude in the second class cattle car section who had a bow board so after a few games of bow I grabbed Rich and Brenda and we went up to the bar to try this Primus beer we’d been hearing so much about. The owner of the bar took us into his office to change our dollars into Tanzanian shillings (illegal) so we could go spend our newly acquired currency in his bar. The Tanzanian immigration officer tracked us down after a while and gave us landing cards, but since he was holding a Primus in his hand at the time he said he’d deal with the papers after supper. We never did see him again. This Primus beer is definitely the strongest beer I have ever had anywhere in the world. You’re definitely drunk after one bottle and after two it’s about nap time. Three and you’ll be stupid and stumbling. Haven’t made it to the three bottle mark yet; I always end up taking the nap after bottle number two. After dinner and finishing my second Primus I went down to our second class sweat box to get some sleep. ### Fascinating Days On the Ferry Date: December 12th, 1992 | Country: Tanzania | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/fascinating-days-on-the-ferry/ Lake Tanganyika, Between Zambia and Tanzania – Woke up at 2:00 a.m. because it was so damn hot so I grabbed my sleeping bag and moved up to the first class outdoor deck where a bunch of other people from the truck had been sleeping. I awoke in time to see the sunrise, and the best part about it was that I could admire the scenery and sunrise while laying on my bench, warm in my sleeping bag. We didn’t do much today but drink Primus and play cards – the type of things you’re supposed to do on holiday. It might sound like the boat was boring, but that’s so far from the truth it’s unbelievable. You see, the boat doesn’t go straight through to Kigoma, it makes various stops along the way to let the locals on and off. The boat has three classes and all the locals who ride in third class are physically locked into the third class section by the crew members so they can’t mingle with anyone else on the boat. As a white person you can go down there and the crew will unlock the door and let you in, but why would you want to? Every time the boat would pull up to a port it would sit a mile off shore and sound its horn informing the villages of its arrival. Now the excitement begins. As Westerners, every time we’d hear the horn sound, like Pavlov’s dogs we’d run to the side of the boat and look over to watch the imminent chaos. Then the ferry arrived no less that nine boat loads of locals would come rowing out to the ferry, each overloaded with people, fruits, vegetables, and he sacks of corn and fish to be loaded into the boat. As these were the locals’ boats they’d be loading in and out of the third class section of the boat so there was utter confusion at every stop. The boats would all race each other to get to the landing bay first to unload their stuff and pick up passengers to take back to shore. We saw on more than one occasion the locals have major arguments about whose boat was to sit directly in front of the loading doors, and even watched them try to push each others’ boats out of the way to get a little bit closer. As soon as one boat was unloaded the next one would move in as quickly as possible. Plus, if there were too many boats near the landing bay he locals would climb over each boat (and each other) to fight their way onto the ferry. Children, sacks of grain, furniture and roosters were all treated as cargo and lifted and thrown about without any problems. The children in the boats would always call out to us up on the first and second class decks and at one stage I threw a blue ballpoint pen to one boy who had the most amazing smile that went from ear to ear. As soon as he’s caught the pen his face lit up even more – it was exhilarating seeing his expression after receiving something that holds very little significance in our culture. There must have been at least eight stops during our two day cruise, and I don’t think I missed the show at but one of our ports of call during the entire trip. Later on in the evening we had your standard dinner of chicken curry and rice before starting in to the Primus again. Two bottles later we were all crashed out on the first class deck again , ready to go to sleep. I watched yet another lightening storm over the land before actually closing my eyes that evening. ### Landing in Kigoma, Tanzania Date: December 13th, 1992 | Country: Tanzania | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/landing-in-kigoma-tanzania/ I awoke at 7:00 a.m. to the sound of the captain blowing the horn at our newest port of call. After making a few inquiries I found out that we’d made it to Kigoma over three hours early. That must be a new African world record – arriving early! We were so early that even the customs and immigration dudes weren’t around yet, so we had our breakfast and cleaned the teeth while we waited. Finally got off the boat in the mad rush with all the other locals and queued up for immigration. The mental titans at the desk took ages to sort out the passports and when I finally looked at the entry stamp, I’d been admitted to Tanzania on “13 Dec 1982” Typical African efficiency. We had a local we’d met, Mohammed, walk us over to the Railway Hotel where we’d be meeting the truck that evening. Mohammed is this twenty two year old guy from Dar es Salaam, the capital city, who was exporting teak wood to Dubai. That was, until the Tanzanian government shut down his business. He said that for each tree they cut down they’re supposed to plant two in its place – evidentially that clause had slipped Mohammed’s mind so only after the teak forest had been completely razed did the Tanzanian government step in and shut him down. We all checked into rooms at the Railway Hotel, for none of us were really expecting the truck to arrive that evening. The courier, Boz had pretty much told us it wasn’t going to be there. Rich and I then went for a three hour walk around Kigoma. It’s a very basic town – dirt roads, dilapidated buildings, your basic Third World type of place. We went to the market and got a pineapple for the local equivalent of fifteen cents, and a mango at least half the size of the pineapple for the same price. After wasting away the afternoon sitting by the lake drinking Primus (inclusive of an afternoon “power” nap) we went out to dinner. Upon our return we discovered the hotel sponsored a disco and they were playing all the music I’d been listening to in London, but had been deprived of for the past five (?) weeks while travelling. We sat by the lake listening to the music while watching yet another lightening storm, as usual, before going to bed. ### Finding Livingstone (again) Date: December 14th, 1992 | Country: Tanzania | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/finding-livingstone-again/ The truck didn’t arrive last night so today Rich and I are taking everyone to Ujiji, a city near here where Stanley finally found Livingstone and met for the first time. The girls had never been on a packed matatu, so Rich and I showed then the ropes re: riding one. First you must push and shove everyone out of your way to get on, including the little old African ladies, then hold on for dear life because these guys speed and are horrible drivers. We ended up in the middle of Ujiji twenty minutes later when we extracted ourselves from the sardine can which doubles as public transport. We walked around the whole city (concentrating on the market) and after being accosted by the town loon (crazy man) one of the locals befriended us and said he’s take us to the Livingstone memorial. We walked through all the back alleys of the village until we came upon this little museum hidden way in the back of the village. Needless to say we would never have found it had we not met the dude. At the monument there were actual museum employees, and our man gave us the perfect textbook rendition of the historic meeting (in very broken English). David Livingstone was a Scottish missionary who had come down to Africa, and no one had heard from him in such a long time that everyone assumed he was dead. An American newspaper reporter by the name of Stanley left New York in search of Livingstone – determined to find him dead or alive. It was on the shores of Lake Tanganyika under a large mango tree that Stanley came across the Scotsman and uttered the infamous words, “Dr. Livingstone, I presume.” All that sits on that spot today is a huge marble monument, but when you’re there and the guide is telling the story in his broken English you really do feel like you’re standing someplace incredibly historical. After another wander around Ujiji and down to the lakeside we jumped back into the matatu and returned to our hotel to sit down by the lake for the remainder of the afternoon. As darkness fell, curiously the lights never came on. After a few inquiries we learned that the power company had run out of fuel to run the generators so Kigoma had no power. On that note we decided to retire early instead of doing anything else. ### Killing Time in Kigoma Date: December 15th, 1992 | Country: Tanzania | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/killing-time-in-kigoma/ When we woke up this morning it was pissing down rain, so we just sat in bed reading until noon when it was time to get food. We went into town for lunch, then since the rain had subsided we sat by the lake drinking beer all afternoon. I ended up going to bed at 4:00 p.m. as I had food poisoning from eating a bad samosa for lunch. Totally ill, but just another one of those trials and tribulations of travelling in a Third World country. I do remember hearing that the truck had finally arrived at about eight o’clock that evening, but I was way too sick to go out and see what was going on. It turned out that the road around the lake was rained out and so muddy that the truck continued to get bogged down in the mud. If Jim, Tom and Mike hadn’t decided to skip the boat the truck would probably still be down there somewhere! They’d been bogged in the deep mud for over seven hours before they could get the truck free. 16th December 1992, Kigoma, Tanzania – With the truck’s arrival our tour began to take shape again. Today was a bit slow as everyone (save the ones who’d arrived the evening before) was sick of Kigoma. We applied for our Burundi visas and ended up just hanging around the hotel bar drinking and killing time. We were supposed to be heading to Burundi the next morning and we were all well more than ready to leave. ### Searching for Immigration Officers Date: December 17th, 1992 | Country: Burundi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/searching-for-immigration-officers/ We left at noon today headed towards Bujumbura, the capital of Burundi, but not before stopping off at the candy store to spend al our remaining Tanzanian shillings on Cadbury’s chocolate. We headed out of Kigoma on the worst road we’d driven on so are. It can’t even be called a road – it’s more like a large dirt path that people walk on and it was just a coincidence that it was just wide enough for our truck. No road maintenance (pipe dream) so everyone in the back of the truck was forced to take a firm grip onto something stable as not to get thrown out of their seats. It got really deep and muddy at one point and when Mick attacked each mud slide with some accelerator the truck would fishtail and rock and roll more than ever. At times the truck was at a very jaunted angle and we didn’t know if it was going to do an imitation of the inside of a tumble driver or not. It was definitely one of our hell rides on the entire safari We made it to the Tanzania/Burundi border a few hours later but the immigration and customs guys were both back in town drinking so we were forced to turn the truck around and go find the two officers so we could get out of Tanzania. We entered Burundi with no problems and drove for a few hours before stopping near a small village to free-camp for the night. As usual the locals gathered to watch the “mzungu” circus put up their tents and cook diner. I’d had a few (two) Primus en route to Burundi and as both Burundi and Zaire were Belgian colonies (and are solely French speaking) I thought I’d go over and practice my French. I had a chat with a few of the locals who told me that they don’t start learning English in school until they’re sixteen or seventeen years old. I chatted some more for practice before crashing in our tent – remember I’d hit the two Primus mark! ### Bujumbura, Burundi & If We Should Enter Kenya At All Date: December 18th, 1992 | Country: Burundi | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/bujumbura-burundi-if-we-should-enter-kenya-at-all/ The next morning we woke up at dawn, and our viewing gallery of locals was standing on the outskirts of our camp watching us – right on time. I kept trying to take pictures of the locals, but Africans are afraid of cameras – we think it’s because they think it takes away a little bit of their souls, so every time I pulled out my camera to take a picture the locals would run away. That’s when Rich and I figured out how to go about getting some great photos of the locals. Rich took is juggling balls and walked away to start tossing them around. The locals’ attention was diverted to Rich’s juggling, so I got out my zoom lens and started taking photos of the locals while they were distracted. It worked like a charm – we’ll have to remember that trick for India. After breakfast we headed through the mountains down towards the north point of Lake Tanganyika to the city of Bujumbura, Burundi’s capital. Burundi’s rather modern, with the greatest paved roads going up and down their mountains – a nice change form our hell Tanzanian road. We had nothing better to do than drink Primus all day. We made a stop in this huge market to take a look and it was so cool. The women here dress in such bright colors – just looking around the market was a spectacle. Hundreds of Burundi women going about their business, but the colors – it was everywhere and brilliant. We left the market and arrived in Bujumbura’s Cercle Nautique campground on the lake shortly after lunch. Since we were still a little concerned about Kenya Rich, Stefanie and I (the three token Americans) headed over to the embassy to find out what our government was saying about the situation there. We met with a consular officer who told us that U.S. officials have been advised not to go to Kenya, but tourists could still go – for now. The Kenya/Uganda border which is technically closed is letting tourists through, but that’s all. When we asked about Nairobi the officer told us our embassy there was replacing about three passports a day – nice crime rate! He also told us that six people were killed in demonstrations in western Kenya, so their political problems were not getting any better in the lead-up to the election. We left and wandered around Bujumbura for the day – we still had to hear the result of a call our courier was placing to Kumuka’s head office in Nairobi to see if we would be entering the country. When we got back to the campsite we were told we were going into Kenya and that we’d be leaving the next morning for Zaire. Not too pleased with that decision Rich and I proceeded to make a spirits punch for everyone to partake of before heading to Zaire where no goods or services are available. Our campsite sat on the northern end of Lake Tanganyika and there are a lot of hippos living in the lake so we were warned to watch out for them coming into the campground at night. After a few glasses of punch Tom, Jim, Stef and I went hippo hunting down near the water. Sure enough, the huge beasts were no farther than one meter from the edge of the campsite climbing out onto the rocks and swimming around just below the barrier. The hippos got bored of us watching them so they slipped into the water and swam off, leaving us to drink more punch and go to bed. ### Entering Zaire – A Real Dictatorship Date: December 19th, 1992 | Country: Zaire | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/entering-zaire-a-real-dictatorship/ We headed out early and hit the Zairian border in the mid-morning. Zaire is a total dictatorship – as bad as one can get – so the bureaucracy is massive. We’d read a few weeks earlier that the Prime Minister wanted to have some governmental body directly elected, but the ruling dictator – Mbutu – didn’t like that idea so he told the Prime Minister to dismiss his cabinet and reappoint the dictator’s men to those posts. The Prime Minister refused so Mbutu moved in the military and basically ousted most of the cabinet members. It was a very low-key coup d’etat, and here we were at Zaire’s border waiting to get in. We cleared immigration without any problems, but the customs guy was just being a dick and told everyone to get off the truck so he could inspect it. He opened our food stores and after discussing the merits of which country the milk powder was manufactured in with our driver he let us through. Had the milk powder been made in Kenya he would have kept it, as Zairians have great respect for Kenyan-made products. We stopped for lunch near Uvira where a little old Zairian woman with a cane wandered right into the middle of our group. Now when the locals watch us they’re usually far enough away as not to get in the way. This little old lady was near blind and wandered right into the middle to see what was going on. I spoke to her in French for a little while, then Mike gave her a tomato, a bread roll and a cigarette. She was so funny – I’ve got a photo of myself looking and chatting with her, a very fond memory – hope it turns out. We sent her on her way and started the truck – needed to start heading to Goma so we could book our trip to see the gorillas, but Goma was at least a two day drive and Zaire has virtually no paved roads at all. The only way to get to Kinshasa, the capital, from the eastern side of the country is by the river – there aren’t any roads! I climbed into the front with Stefanie and Boz (who was driving) for this next leg of the journey. We drove a few hours but then we came upon a customs and immigration post. We sat there for a second thinking, “Why would Zaire have two customs posts?” The reason was that it wasn’t Zaire at all – it was the border post with Rwanda! Rwanda’s currently in the throes of their own civil was, so no tour companies are transiting through there any longer. One of the Rwandan police told us we didn’t want to go into Rwanda because the bandits have been robbing safari trucks as they transit through. Evidentially we’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. We thanked the police officer (who then asked us for five dollars and got nothing), did a U-turn and headed up the muddy roads higher and higher into the Zairian mountains. It rained a bit making the road muddier and the truck harder to control, plus the temperature was dropping. We persevered by drinking Primus and eating the pineapple which had been soaking in the rum from our punch the night before. We finally hit the summit and descended (more slid) through the mud to this quarry at the base of the mountains. It was dark by this time so setting up camp was on our agenda. As usual a few locals came and watched us, so I approached them to practice my French some more. I found out from them that there was a natural hot spring not twenty meters from our campsite – we’d just missed it because it was dark. I thanked them for the information and told them they could show us in the morning. ### Learning to Watch Our Language Date: December 20th, 1992 | Country: Zaire | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/learning-to-watch-our-language/ Outside Bukavu, Zaire – We went down to the springs the next morning and the boys weren’t kidding – it was a large stream flowing through the jungle, only it was warm and the air was filled with steam from the river. Stef, Mike and Tina splashed around the water a bit before we went back to the truck to leave. We pulled into the city of Bukavu around noon, just in time to change money on the black market and do the food shopping for the next few days. Couldn’t stop for more than an hour or so because we were flying like bats out of hell to get to Goma to see the gorillas. Our courier kept the tour going at a break-neck speed just so we could keep up with the itinerary. We went to Kahuzi-Buega National Park before leaving for Goma, and that was so we could pay five dollars to go see what our courier thought was a pygmy village. Since we had an incompetent courier who couldn’t lead a group of people out of a paper bag this pygmy village turned out to be a bunch of tea plantation workers who happened to grow dope as well. Dope trees abound, more than I’ve ever seen in my life, but not worth any money to see, let alone five dollars. It sucked and was a total rip off – all thanks to an incompetent courier. We headed out of Kahuzi-Buega, slowly on the unpaved roads through many a village towards Goma. Zairian children think it’s great fun to pick up rocks or other items and pretend to throw them at the truck. It got to the point where Jim has a few rocks on his lap to throw back if need be. The only other thing Zairian children know how to do is stick their hands out like beggars and scream, “Donnez moi une Bic.” (meaning Bic pen.) Everyone on the truck was so sick of hearing these kids scream “donnez-moi” that when entering a new village, before the barrage of donnez-mois could be screamed by the kids, we’d all lean out of the truck and scream it at them first. That confused the locals a little bit, but not enough to keep them quite. Speaking of thing we used to do on the truck – there’s Raewyn, one of the Kiwi girls. Raewyn would always sit on one of the outside seats and would proceed to wave like crazy at any and all locals within her range of peripheral vision. I sat there and watched her for a while and figured out that she thought she was the Queen of England spreading goodwill and homeliness and that every local she waved at should wave back. If the locals didn’t wave back she’d lean out of the truck wildly waving her hands harder while screaming “Jambo” – welcome in Swahili in an attempt to get a response. Amusing to watch her, but even more amusing to see the expressions on the locals’ faces. The way the locals looked at Raewyn made me think that they were thinking, “Who’s the silly bitch hanging out of a blue mzungu truck screamin ‘Welcome’?” Remember I mentioned the Zairian boys throwing rocks? If I were a native and I saw Raewyn acting the way she was I’d throw rocks too – I don’t blame them. We drove all day, finally reaching the shores of Lake Kivu where we camped in a school yard for the night. That evening Brenda, Rich Tom (the plumber) and I were standing around the fire talking to one of the teachers when tom made a major faux pas. Tom wasn’t that clued in as to the ramifications which can occur if you bag on the ruling dictator while talking to the locals (who could always be the police). He and the school teacher were talking away when the teacher asked Tom if he knew about Zaire’s president. Tom’s response was, “What, that he sucks?” Rich, Brenda and I all heard that and immediately all of us started screaming NO! NO! NO! NO! The school teacher saw our reaction and said he didn’t like the president either. It was only after Tom saw our reaction to his comment that he watched what he said to the locals. Tom is a dim bulb, but he is amusing to be around – just to hear what the next outrageous statement to come out of his mouth is going to be. ### Somewhere on Lake Kivu, Zaire Date: December 21st, 1992 | Country: Zaire | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/somewhere-on-lake-kivu-zaire/ We got up, took down camp and started driving. We had to be in Goma today, no matter what, and the roads were flatter than usual so it was pretty smooth riding. We were told we were going to drive until we got to Goma – we needed to book the gorillas – be it midnight if that’s what it took. We drove all day around Lake Kivu, stopping for an hour for lunch, then continuing to drive forever. It got dark and we kept driving. I sat next to Tom and amused myself simply by having a conversation with him – he’s a bit dim as you know. Finally got to Goma at 9:30 p.m. and everyone was starving. Dinner began, but I started immediately into the rum and cokes. Jenni joined me after my first drink, so the two of us proceeded to finish off the bottle of rum then move into another half bottle of vodka. We were both stumbling drunk by 3:30 a.m. so we staggered to bed. ### A Painful Day of Driving Date: December 22nd, 1992 | Country: Zaire | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/a-painful-day-of-driving/ En route to Jumba, Zaire – Woke up this morning still very drunk from the night before so I just crawled onto the truck to rest up for the day’s activities. We headed into Goma where everyone got out and wandered around for a few hours. I stayed behind and guarded the truck because I was incapable of doing anything else. Mick came back and I went for a five minute walk over to the meat and cheese store to see if there was any food at all. Zaire is totally Third World, so when you walk into the shops there usually would only be one item in the entire store. I walked into this deli and all the display cases were empty except for one huge round of gouda cheese. Cheese! I couldn’t even find cheese in countries that were way more modern than this one, and there I was needing it more than ever to help take the edge off my hangover. I paid the price of two million zaires and walked away with about two pounds of the most amazing tasting cheese (or so I thought at the time.) Back to the truck, for we were due to leave for Jumba in a few minutes and it was going to take us a long time because the roads weren’t roads. We started off and Mick was trying to avoid the largest potholes, but it didn’t really matter – you still needed to have a firm hold on the truck because it was rockin’ and rollin’ like the Shakey Shack in a funhouse. With my hangover (which was now tuning into my brain full force) it was a living hell. After a few hours I just leaned out of the truck and booted – boy was I miserable. I finally went to sleep under two of the aircraft style seats and woke up a few hours later when the truck had stopped at this bridge. Mick was out inspecting the bridge to see if it could support the truck’s fifteen ton weight. The bridge was made of about thirty horizontal strips of metal, spaced about eight to ten inched apart so you could see the water from the river flowing below your feet. After a brief inspection Mick told everyone to get off the truck, so if it were to go right through the bridge Kumuka wouldn’t be liable for our deaths. Mick backed up the truck but instead of going over the bridge he maneuvered the behemoth down the riverbank, gunned the engine, then eased the truck in to the river and drove right through it. So muck for Zairian engineering works! We continued on this bumpy hell road, going approximately six kilometers an hour, slow enough so every Zairian child within a ten kilometer radius could jump on the spare tires and ride along with us for a while. The kids ended up stealing the charcoal out of our sack tied onto the back of the truck, so we stopped and Rich got out and got a big stick and proceeded to follow the truck on foot – scaring the locals away with his stick so they couldn’t steal anymore. We finally got to the Parc National des Virungas and set up camp for we were to go and see the silverback gorillas the next morning. ### Gorillas, Guerillas & A Truck Hijacking Date: December 23rd, 1992 | Country: Zaire | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/gorillas-guerillas-a-truck-hijacking/ National Parc de Virunga, Zaïre – Today was the day we were to see the Silverback gorillas – one of the main reasons we came on this safari in the first place. We hiked up to the rangers station in the hills at 7:30 a.m., only to be told that they couldn’t take our whole group that day because another group of people had already headed off to see the gorillas – that thanks to our courier’s management. After talking to the ranger he agreed to get a guide to take Rich and I to meet the others who’d gone ahead, while the rest of our group went and saw a different set of gorillas. We set off with our guide (who spoke no English and no French) and hiked through the Zairean hills for about an hour, then the guide led us through the dense jungle in search of the gorillas. When the jungle was too dense the guide would use his razor sharp machete to chop through the thick overgrowth – the bushes, small trees, you name it, so we could get through. It was really cool listening to the metallic ring of the blade as it cut through the overgrowth. We passed a few gorilla nests made of flattened tree branches before catching our first sight of “Oscar” the 35 year old Silverback sitting atop a tree looking around. It was an amazing sight seeing this massive animal sitting on top of the tree – the tree almost unable to hold the gorilla’s weight. He really looked as though he were on the lookout for us. After Rich and I had found the rest of the group, Oscar decided to climb down and walk off into the jungle, so we followed him into a small clearing where he sat down and let us sit near him on the ground. Oscar’s daughter and small son came out of the bushes and graced us with their presence. I was sitting about two yards from this massive wild animal which could have killed me without any effort whatsoever in an instant if he had held such an inclination. His daughter and smaller son (which looked exactly like a small stuffed animal) sat in front of the large male playing in the leaves, making the two youngsters less than three feet from where I was squatting. I was taking photos like mad, and ended up using the macro feature on my wide angle lens because I was so close to the creatures. That was a little unnerving – macro lenses are only used when you’re really close to the subject you’re photographing – things like bugs and flowers, not Silverback gorillas. There really isn’t any reason to be that close to them, but we were and it was amazing. After sitting with the three gorillas for an hour Oscar decided it was time for us to leave so he got up and walked right through the middle of our group to head off into the jungle. One of the American girls we were with happened to be standing right in the huge beast’s path, but she couldn’t get out of the way because there was dense jungle on one side and one of our African guides on the other. The guide kept telling her to take a photo of Oscar as he approached closer and closer towards her, but all she could do was scream, “I don’t want to take a photo! I just want to get out of the way!” Oscar passed within a foot of where I was sitting and I didn’t miss seeing one inch of his huge body mass as he passed by. Since our hour with the gorillas was finished we hiked two hours back to the ranger’s station where we said good-bye to the others in our group. During our hike back we saw another gorilla, a younger male who didn’t have his own family group yet, follow us up the path for a spell before diving off into the jungle. Rich and I headed back to the truck, getting lost along the way and paying a local boy 1,000,000 zaires to show us the way. Everyone else had already returned and were just waiting for our return so we could head out of the country into Uganda before dark. We jumped into the truck and headed off towards the Ugandan border. We weren’t far, but the roads were shit – our truck bumping and sliding around through the mud and when we were about one kilometer (half a mile) from the border we had our first major encounter with the Zaïrean government. We were driving up a small hill (which caused the truck to go slower) when Mick, our British driver, spotted a lone Zairean soldier, in military uniform and holding a large AK-47 waving at the truck to stop. Mick had been driving through Africa for the past seven years, so he’d had a bit of experience in this, and his instinct told him to just wave at the lone guard and keep driving, while making motions that he couldn’t stop the truck because we were going up a hill. I was sitting on the raised area at the front of the truck on an area called the stage, I had Stefanie (an American) next to me on the bench and across from us, sitting on the facing bench were Jenni (from NZ) and Rich. The stage is at the front of the truck behind the driver’s cab, and is an elevated area with two benches running horizontally along the front third of the interior of the truck. When you’re sitting in these seats you can see out the sides of the truck rather well, but those outside also have a very good view of you too. As soon as Mick had passed the soldier waving us down the next thing I saw was a second soldier jump out from behind a tree, aiming his gun at the truck screaming “Descendez!”, which is French for ‘Get out of the truck’. This soldier wasn’t acting passive about his command either – he seemed more than serious. Three other soldiers jumped out of the bushes at the same time – all with AK-47s leveled at the truck. Mick brought the truck to an abrupt halt, just as the adrenaline in my body shot up into my brain. Before we’d entered any of the French speaking African countries I’d been instructed by our courier not to let on that I knew French when we were dealing with any official-types. That way we could act like ignorant tourists who didn’t understand the language if there were any problems. This was one of those times, but being able to understand most of what was being said and having a better idea than the others in the truck of what was going on didn’t help either. Boz, the courier, and Mick got out of the cab to talk to the soldiers while the rest of us sat in the back. We’d been instructed not to get out of the truck no matter what the guards said. The guards kept looking into the truck (mostly at the four of us sitting up on the stage) screaming “Descendez!” At one point the craziest guard of the lot, who I’d originally spotted jumping out from behind the tree, walked to the opposite side of the truck, stared at Rich, leveled his gun at him then screamed “Descendez!” once again. Rich was a little frazzled having this guard pointing a gun at him and screaming so he turned to me and asked me what he was saying. I told him I didn’t know French. The first reaction animals have when truly scared is to form a group – strength in numbers being the idea. Well immediately after the crazy guard jumped out from behind that tree both Stefanie and I instinctively moved towards the middle of our bench until we were touching so we’d have each other for comfort. I don’t know why it felt better, but just sliding myself closer to someone else felt like the right thing to do. I can’t remember consciously thinking I was going to do it, it just occurred. I can remember thinking that that action truly felt like one of the latent animal instincts humans have. While the crazy guard was screaming at Rich to get down out of the truck, two other guards had climbed up onto the hood of the cab, not four feet to my right, and proceeded to load their clips with bullets – very slowly – one by one. The crazy man was still screaming “Descendez!” at the top of his lungs when our courier came over again and told us not to get out of the truck under any circumstances. The crazy man then walked down the small hill he was standing on to go find something else to do. The guards on the hood had a massive pile of bullets on the folded down windshield and continued to load their clips. They’d occasionally drop a bullet onto the windshield or drop one into the small drawstringed bag, also on the windshield, so we could heal the metallic ‘clink’ and judge how many more bullets they had left in the bag. I could hear our driver speaking in broken French to the soldiers’ leader saying we were tourists and were causing no problems. Well when the one standing on the hood loading his gun heard that he started screaming “Passeports!” Our driver, in an attempt to distract them from having us hand our passports over, turned to the guards on the hood and asked if they would please get down – they were scaring the women in the truck. After many pleas from our driver the guards got down, but the ‘lively’ one on the opposite side of the truck switched his call from “Descendez” to “Passeports!” I could hear him calling that out every once in a while. I heard another guard saying “argent” and “cadeaux”, indicating that they wanted gifts and money. He screamed it a few times over and over, so when Tom, who was nearby, asked what it meant I translated for him. Mick, Boz and four of the five soldiers were all standing out in front of the truck so I could more or less see what was going on. They’d stopped a local and were trying to get him to help translate what the soldiers were saying. Involve as many outsiders as possible was the plan. A majority of the time we were all looking at the floor, each other, anything not to make eye contact with the soldiers. I kept my brain busy by analyzing the way the staples in the bench across from me had been applied with a factory precision. I didn’t think thoughts like “Am I in danger” or “What happens if someone gets shot” because my brain had begun to slow down and get mushy; I was becoming drowsy. I did have a fleeting thought of, “As a lifeguard I’ve been trained to deliver a baby, but I’ve not been trained in first aid for gunshot wounds.” That amused me at the time, strange things go through your mind when you’re in these situations. I looked out the front of the truck at our courier, and saw that the guard was pointing his AK-47 at Boz. Boz said something then the guard quickly pointed his gun away from our courier towards the forest and let off one shot. When he did that the crazy man, who was just opposite the truck’s door let off two more shots into the air. This jolted those of us in the truck, and the first thing I can remember doing was looking outside to see if anyone I knew had been shot. Nope, not as far as I could see. After this display of firepower our courier came and climbed into the truck saying he needed a $100 bill quick. One of the girls pulled one out and gave it to him, which in turn passed it on to the soldier’s leader. Once they’d been paid the guards said they wanted to “escort” us to the Ugandan border 1k away to protect us from Rwandan bandits. On that note two of the guards climbed into the cab with Mick, one held onto the outside of the passenger door and the fourth perched himself so he could see into the rear of the truck as we were driving. Of course he had to be closest to me and our courier, who’d joined Stef and I on the bench. The fifth guard (the crazy one) climbed into the back of the truck with everyone and balanced himself on the door with his loaded gun on his lap between him and us. He sat there for about ten seconds then decided it was too uncomfortable and moved someplace else on the outside of the truck. So then we started off towards the border with all these Zairean soldiers hanging off the side of the truck. The road ahead of us, which ten minutes before had been full of locals walking along going about their business was completely deserted at this point. We didn’t see a soul until we pulled up to the immigration check point where all the guards jumped off and walked down the road to their military post down the road from the border. Our courier went into the office and noticed the immigration officer was visibly shaken, for he knew what had transpired down the road. He came out to the truck and in very clear English vehemently apologized for what had happened. He said his country had no government and that these things happened from time to time. He seemed truly sorry, and definitely scared. He then said we should give him our passports to process, drive the truck over the border to Uganda, then he’d bring us our passports over on the other side; he didn’t want a truckload of Westerners who’d had a run-in with the military waiting outside his immigration check post. It was still Africa and we told him we’d wait for him to stamp our papers out. The officer grabbed his assistant and the two of them furiously began stamping our passports an quickly as they could; he wanted to help us and get us out of Zaire as quickly as possible. While we were waiting for our passports Boz told me what had prompted the gunshots. Boz had learned from the immigration guy that these soldiers were members of a rebel faction of the Zairean army. Zaire had had so many governmental problems (including a coup d’etat two weeks earlier), and as a result the military men, along with other government people weren’t being paid their wages on time, if at all. The soldiers’ leader asked for money so Boz told then we didn’t have a lot of money and offered them US$20 (36 million zaires). The guard responded by pointing his AK-47 at Boz, so Boz quickly offered US$50. Still unsatisfied the guard quickly pointed his gun away from Boz into the forest and let off one shot. When he did that the other guard joined in with his two extra gunshots. After this display of firepower the leader told Boz he wanted US$100 (180 million zaires); an unprecedented amount of money for these Africans in their economically ravaged country. The $100 they extorted from us would pay all five men’s wages for over a month. The passports were finished, the truck’s customs clearance stamped and we were all accounted for so we could finally get the hell out of the country. Mick went to start the engine but we only heard a dry “click” when he turned the key. He tried again. . . “Click”. This was the last thing we needed, especially since we’d finally gotten clearance to leave. It turns out that one of the soldiers had accidentally kicked the switch which disengaged the battery from the rest of the engine. Mick figured this out, flipped the switch, then the engine roared away and we drove on through the customs barrier into Uganda – we were out of Zaire (each paying a $10 departure tax to the military). So much for dictatorships. Twenty yards down the road we met three women who’d been with us during our gorilla trek earlier that morning. Erin, this tall, blonde, Canadian girl told me what the locals’ reaction to the incident was. She said she and her friends had been walking towards the border when some of the locals went running by (after the shots had been fired) saying that the military truck was coming down the road; in actuality it was our truck with all the guards hanging off the outside of the cab. She and her friends started running to the immigration post so they could escape Zaire before any trouble began. She said the immigration officer met them at the entrance, snatched their passports out of their hands, stamped them and told the women to go across the border – “Quickly!” This entire incident showed me, up close and personal, how corrupt a dictatorship can be, and how scared the people living under that sort of governmental system really are. The whole stop plus the “escort” to the border must have taken about twenty minutes, but it felt like it was a hell of a lot longer. The Ugandan border took us about an hour to sort out all the bureaucracy and red tape, but we made it through and drove another hour into the frontier before stopping. We wanted to get as far away as possible before setting up camp, just to make sure the Zairean guards couldn’t sneak across the border and hassle us some more. Everyone on the truck had a few stiff rum and cokes (no I wasn’t pouring) in an attempt to relax before retiring to sleep. Later that evening when we were talking about it, Stefanie had a great quote – something like “We saw the passive gorillas this morning and the active guerrillas this afternoon.” We parked our truck and began to set up camp when Rich called me over and began walking away from camp. He said, “You know that list of “Things You Don’t Want to Know”?. “Yeah”, was my tentative response. “Well I sort of brought something through the border that I probably shouldn’t have.” It dawned on me and my eyes turned big as plates. “You mean the jay fay’s in Uganda?” I then was sitting there incredulous to the fact that Rich had had that stuff, especially with what had just transpired not a couple of hours before. Jenni came over and laid down on the grass next to me when Rich grabbed one of her feet and acted like he was going to take off her shoe. “You don’t want to do that” was her facetious tone. She said that the jay fay was inside her shoe. I was totally surprised, again, for she’d pulled the same trick that Rich had. No wonder she looked so nervous when we’d been stopped by the military men. Later that evening we all got together and had a wee relaxation session in our tent to relieve the stress of the day’s activities. The Nation (Newspaper), Nairobi, Kenya, 30th Dec 1992 – Troops Loot Kinshasa: Zairean soldiers angry over low pay resumed looting in two eastern towns as President Mobutu Sese Seko prepared to hear army grievances yesterday. Residents in north Kivu provence on the border with Rwanda and Uganda, said by radio that troops began looting in Butemo early yesterday, a day after men from the Kasindi base went on a rampage in Oicha. That is exactly where our truck was when we were hijacked! ~~~~~~~ 27th March 1993 – Pokhara, Nepal – Zaire Update – I met up with Cameron, a Kiwi we’d met in Egypt, who told me the situation in Zaire has gotten worse since we were there and that overland trucks are no longer going into the country. He said one of the trucks apparently went missing. They also had passed through Nairobi after us and said the situation in Kenya didn’t get any better – every day at Ma Roache’s some traveler had a new horror story about being robbed. ### Christmas Eve, Mbarara, Uganda Date: December 24th, 1992 | Country: Uganda | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/christmas-eve-mbarara-uganda/ We drove all day through Uganda, admiring the beautiful countryside. I got a photo of four dormant volcanoes in a row – beautiful. Everyone was getting a bit delirious from riding in the truck, plus it was Christmas Eve, so when we pulled into the hotel at Mbarara where we were to camp that night, everyone but Jim and Tom screamed out that they’d pay a supplement and get a room. It was Christmas and we were going to splurge. Rich and I had to cook Christmas Eve dinner, so when we’d stopped at Kabale earlier that afternoon we were in charge of doing the shopping. At the market we got all the veggies and I found a corral at the back where they were taking live cows and slitting their throats for butchering. The locals were all taking turns holding the bucket that the blood was flowing into. I showed Rich this place and he got up really close to the dying animals while I stood a good thirty feet away. It was only after one of the locals asked him if he wanted to hold the bucket that he’d decided he’s had enough. He came back and got me and we headed back into the market to try and find a main course for dinner. We already had all the veggies and after watching the cows we didn’t want any meat – that was about the time we passed the chicken section of the market. You can’t get a dead chicken in Africa – there’s no refrigeration, and you’ve got to pay someone to kill it for you. We figured it couldn’t be that hard to find someone to do it so we wandered over to the chicken peddlers, and the second we mentioned we wanted two live chickens there were about four locals surrounding us, each with a live chicken in each hand. The locals didn’t treat the chickens like an animal – they were more a physical item. When we were bargaining over the price the locals would wave the chickens around over their heads of our price was too low, thereby upsetting our possible main course causing them to cluck loudly. After much negotiating and explaining that when we returned to pick up the birds we expected them plucked, no head, no feet, no guts – all for the exorbitant rate of Sh5,000 (US$2.25 each). With the negotiating done they asked me which ones we wanted. I guessed the only way to test a live chicken was to reach over and feel their chests to see how fat they were. I wasn’t that practiced in squeezing live chickens but I choose a couple that seemed pretty well fed. We headed back to the truck to wait the forty five minutes for the cleaning to be done. After everyone had gotten checked into their rooms at Mbarara Rich and I began cooking Christmas dinner. We had fresh chicken, two hours old, peas, carrots, fresh mashed potatoes and banana custard. After two hours of work (sans shower and shave, for everyone else was already cleaned up) we served our Christmas masterpiece dinner. Rich and I served ourselves and sat down, ready to eat this magnificent dinner we’d worked so hard to prepare. I took my knife and tried to cut into my chicken but . . . the knife just slipped off the meat. I held the bird down and tried to get the knife to take hold but my cutting device just bounced off the meat and landed in the mashed potatoes. No one had told us that you’re supposed to let a freshly killed chicken drain for two to three days before cooking it. The peas were crunchy, the chicken rubbery, the custard on a borderline O.K. basis, the gravy ended up being dumped in the grass, but the mashed potatoes were all right. Rich and I made our exit to go get cleaned up as the rest of our group fought with the rubber chicken and crunchy peas. After showers it was time to shave – two weeks not shaving does give you that mountain man look. Rich hadn’t shaven in something like nine weeks (since we left Egypt) and he had a full beard. After wrestling over my electric razor with the beard trimming attachment I shaved then passed it on over to Rich. When we started our safari Rich had his beard, so all the people we’d met since had never seen him without one. Rich shaved, but it was hurting him too much so he left the moustache, which made him look Italian. The change was remarkable – he looked so different with only a moustache. I was following him to through the hotel bar, just to see the expressions on our friends’ faces when they saw him. Everyone was pretty shocked at the change and started to give Rich a bit of a hard time. We ordered drinks and started chatting to Jim for a while when Jim called Rich “Guiseppe” because of his moustache. Shortly thereafter Rich excused himself to go to the bathroom while Jim and I moved into our next gin and tonic. During Rich’s absence the rest of the people from the truck arrived in the bar, but no Rich. About ten minutes later Rich appeared – sans moustache – and boy did he shock a few people – even me. Every time I looked at him I would start giggling – it was such a change. I’ve known him for five and a half years and even I had a really hard time controlling my laughter; actually I didn’t try to control it at all. Everyone was totally tripping off the fact that Rich had made two separate appearances and looked entirely different at each visit. It was strange, but people began to get used to Rich’s new look and the atmosphere just became more festive as the evening wore on. Everyone was hanging out in the bar, so Erin (our Canadian hitch hiker) started getting us to sing different Christmas carols with her. It was when they started singing the Twelve Days of Christmas that I really got into the Christmas singing. I’d planned to sing the “Twelve Days AFTER Christmas” with Brenda the next morning (incorporating the new verses I’d written while on transit in Zambia) but I couldn’t resist so I stopped everyone from singing the twelve days and said, “We’ve all heard the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’, but do you know what happened on the twelve days after Christmas?” I then started singing the song solo since Brenda didn’t know the words yet, to a bar full of our friends we’d made over the course of the past five weeks. Here’s a full draft of the song which I’d learned at least twelve years before. Verses one through seven are the original song while verses eight through twelve are the new and improved verses written as a result of boredom while in transit on a safari truck. The Twelve Days After Christmas On the first day after Christmas, my true love and I had a fight. I chopped that blasted pear tree down and burned it just for spite. And with a single car-ar-artidge I shot that blasted par-ar-tridge, My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. The second day after Christmas I slipped on me old rubber gloves, And very gently wrung the necks of both those turtle doves. My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. The third day after Christmas, my mother she caught the croup (cough-cough) And so I used the three French hens to make some Chicken soup. The four calling birds were a big mistake for their language was obscene. And the five golden rings were completely fake and they turned my fingers green. (Ech!) The sixth day after Christmas the six laying geese wouldn’t lay. So I sent the whole darn gaggle to the A.S.P.C.A. On the seventh day what a mess I found, all seven of the swimming swans had drown, My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. The eighth day after Christmas I went to the milkmaid’s chalet. I’d planned to video them dressing for their work that day. But to my despair I let out a cry, as each of the girls munched another’s hair pie, My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. The ninth day after Christmas I went to a Shriner’s soirée. The whores were late, the men irate, so I gave the dancing ladies away. On the tenth day past but to my chagrin, for the ten leaping lords had been getting stuck in, My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me. Eleven days after Christmas the pipers had all gone astray. I rang the local drunk tank to find that they had been at play. The twelve drummer boys were completely gay; they’d joined a ballet troupe and were on their way, My true love, we are through love, and said in so many words, Frankly dear your Christmas gifts are for the birds —- (four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree). Everyone was in rally good moods, so we all sang nor Christmas carols and had a few more drinks before closing down the bar. We were ready to keep partying so Rich and I took everyone to our chalet to let the festivities begin. It was so perfect – we’d been given a free-standing chalet, large enough for you to set up three tents in the bedroom/sitting room alone, plus it had a huge bathroom and all the floors were concrete so they were spill, burn and boot proof. The perfect stomping ground for a bunch of Christmas revelers from our safari truck. Thanks to Rick and Jenny doing their stuff at the Zairian border – no wonder Jenni looked so worried – the jay fay arrived and we had a smoke. Everyone from the truck was there (except for Jim and Mike who’d passed out earlier) and everyone partook in the passing making the evening just flow along. Tom had brought his air mattress (which doubles as a swimming pool raft) to our room and was vegged out on it on the floor. I went and sat next to him and Brenda sat across from the two of us on the bed. We were all wasted – everyone in the room was wasted – and we were all really relaxed around each other so anything could happen. Brenda, Tom and I were talking about Christmas carols and singing when all of a sudden Brenda, who’d been a little reserved up until now, broke out into song singing some popular song from Australia. The thing is that her voice was amazing – it was a really good singing voice, and she’d been hiding it from us the whole time. It turns out that her grandmother was an opera singer. After Brenda’s performance Tom, who’s also got a really good singing voice, sang a bit while lying on his mat. Everyone had the spotlight for a while and it was really positive. Stefanie, who’s wild when she’s sober was jumping around and even put on our own personal rave environment with flashing and spinning lights and bee bop music (provided by herself) for thirty seconds. Of course she had to improvise for the lighting by flicking the lights on and off and waving an illuminated flashlight over her head. Tina, the New Zealand police woman, was doing summersaults across the room, head stands, and giving Stefanie and Jenny drink driving tests – by the book. Too bad everyone was too wasted to know who was “winning”. At about 2;30 a.m. everyone filed out, or more we poured everyone out the door onto the grass, with Jenni being the last one behind. After a few minutes of chatting she announced she was gong to be sick and promptly opened the door and went and got sick on the grass. She came back and said “Merry Christmas” to us and went to her room to bed. And a merry Christmas it was – a group of people who didn’t know each other that well four weeks earlier had managed to become really good friends and celebrate the holidays in Africa together in the merriest way possible. Everyone said that they’d had a very merry Christmas Eve. ### Crossing the Equator on Christmas Day Date: December 25th, 1992 | Country: Uganda | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/crossing-the-equator-on-christmas-day/ So much for leaving at 8:00 a.m.. We woke up at 9:00 a.m. feeling very slow, but not hung over. We all piled into the truck by 10:00 a.m. and had, I think, the most relaxing day of driving we’d ever had because everyone was so out of it from our Christmas Eve party. We drove all day, stopping at the equator, where there’s this large monument to take pictures and wander around, arriving that evening in Entebbe, a resort town that sits on the edge of Lake Victoria – the largest lake in the world. We handed out our Christmas gifts (we’d all drawn a name out of a hat a week earlier) and I received a shell on a piece of string from Raewyn. I made Jenni a portable backgammon set made out of some cotton material I’d sewn into a drawstring type bag to keep the pieces in. After gifts we went to the resort and had our Christmas diner of fresh BBQ’d fish and chips – just like what you’d get in Malawi – it was great. We sat there talking after dinner until the largest spider I have ever seen outside the Smithsonian descended down from the roof of the hut we were eating in. The thing was big, black and white spotted and must have been about two inched long (it’s torso). If it had lowered itself into the ashtray there might have been a space problem keeping its legs inside the tray. The girls all got up and moved away as the waiter grabbed the arachnid’s web it was hanging from and tossed it into the bushes. We left the diner table and headed over to the outdoor disco which was absolutely blaring all sorts of different music (none of which I’d heard before), We hung out there briefly but we were still knackered from the night before. We headed over to the truck to hang out and use the phone – the jay fay was still with us from Christmas Eve – before crashing out. ### On the Shores of Lake Victoria, Entebbe, Uganda Date: December 26th, 1992 | Country: Uganda | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/on-the-shores-of-lake-victoria-entebbe-uganda/ When we woke up today the music from the disco was still blaring away. Don’t know what the management was thinking because I certainly didn’t see anyone dancing at 6:00 a.m! We jumped in the truck and made the thirty minute drive to Kampala and made a bee line to the Sheraton Hotel for breakfast. After all of us had been not eating that well through Zaire, an all you could eat breakfast at the Sheraton on Boxing Day was something like a God-send. For a mere Sh10,500 (US$9.70) you got everything your heart desired – including a chef to cook you as many omelets as you could eat. Plus you even got things you hadn’t seen in weeks: cheese, bacon, fresh fruit that wasn’t bruised, milk and even apple juice! Every single person on our safari truck pulled out the plastic and charged breakfast as a special Christmas treat. In addition, we were all ravenous from our week prior in Zaire. After breaky I headed to the Telecom Center and picked up the special AT&T phone they’d come to personally install in this office. Pick up the phone and twenty seconds later you’re talking to an AT&T operator. Nice touch – thanks guys! Talked to the family at 1:00 a.m. California still technically Christmas and told them a bit about what we were up to. The next call was to the U.S. Embassy to see what the Kenyan situation was all about. The dude at the embassy said there was an official travellers advisory out stating that U.S. citizens should not go to Kenya due to possible political unrest as a result of the upcoming election. Good to know, but I didn’t want to spend any more money flying to Nairobi when our truck would be there in a few days. Back to the truck where we travelled through western Uganda to Jinja, famous because it’s the source of the Nile, at Lake Victoria. The hotel was just down the road, and in keeping with our theme of “the colonial tour of Africa” our truck pulled into the driveway of the hotel, we drove the truck around the landscaped traffic circle as though we were inspecting the place before we’d actually show our faces. After the “inspection” we piled out of the truck and immediately set up our tents right in the middle of the landscaped traffic circle, with the best grass we’d seen in weeks – perfect for camping. We all were ready to party a bit more since we’d all been so tired on Christmas Day proper, so we headed into the hotel bar and started drinking once again. Dinner time rolled around and our safari truck signed up for the all you can eat BBQ out on the patio. After eating them out of house and home (we ate all the food they’d brought out to cook) we watched some traditional dancing and had more drinks before crawling into the tent to go to sleep. We are to leave for Kenya tomorrow so I’ll do some journal housecleaning here. UGANDA NOTES: When we first entered Uganda from Zaire we were all stressed from our experience with the soldiers so we didn’t notice the locals’ change in attitudes once we’d crossed the border. Uganda has suffered some horrible war atrocities under Idi Amin. Since the war ended in 1986 the people have become so happy. Just knowing that most people we came in contact with had lived through the atrocities of the was an interesting feeling, but the demeanor of the locals is what struck me the most. The Ugandans are the happiest people – even six years after their war ended. Every person you’d smile at would return the same smile back to you tenfold. You could actually feel the relief of the people – feel how happy they were to be able to have normal lives again. It was actually a real pleasure to wave and smile at the people from the truck because you’d get more than you gave in return and you could actually feel the sense of relief these people had. Now they could move forward again and get Uganda moving again. The Railway Motel in Kigoma, Tanzania – In true African form, at breakfast over the course of a few days we’d keep noticing these white bits floating in our tea. I would just skim them out with my spoon because I really enjoy my cups of tea – when I could get them. One morning I actually looked at what I thought had been the skin from the bottled milk that had been poured into the tea – it wasn’t milk skin, I’ll tell you that. I’d gotten rather a large clump this particular morning and after examining it I passed it over to Rich. We figured out that the cooks had been making our poached eggs for breakfast, but due to the lack of power, or whatever, they’d just use the hot water the eggs had been cooked in to make our morning tea. The ‘milk skin’ I’d been fishing out of my tea was actually egg white from everyone else’s breakfast. Gross – but remember, it’s Africa and I’d rather have a cup of tea in the morning than no cup of tea at all. ### Crossing the Closed Kenyan Border Date: December 27th, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/crossing-the-closed-kenyan-border/ Today was the day. Today, against my better judgment, the truck left Jinja and headed for the Kenyan border. The Kenya/Uganda border is technically closed for security reasons, but we’d heard that they were letting tourists through. Upon our arrival at the border we could look over the customs gates into Kenya to see a political rally supporting Moi (the current dictator) going on. Wonderful. We cleared Ugandan immigration and waited at Kenyan immigration and customs while their immigration dudes sorted through everything. He finally cleared the truck and we eased forward into a country deep in the throes of a political learning process. They were learning that democracy is (in my opinion) one of the better systems, but accountability in the process is always necessary. The rally going on was supporting the status quo and these people seemed to be getting into it – possibly because Moi’s government was the only one they’d known since most of their births. When the life expectancy of a population isn’t over fifty years and a majority of them is in the twenty six year age bracket, then of course they’d support the current dictator and keep the status quo. Our truck was stuck behind the Moi vehicle (complete with loudspeakers extolling the virtues of the KANU party) and as a result, all the people dancing and screaming Moi support slogans were screaming them at the truck full of mzungus as well. Jenni waved at someone and made the peace sign with her hand, but that person who wasn’t a Moi supporter became visible angry and screamed at her. Moi’s sign during the election was the peace symbol and making that sign to the locals showed your support for the KANU party. After we drove for a bit Mike turned to me and said that the people weren’t happy – they seemed concerned. No doubt – there were four major political parties in their first democratic election in twenty six years: the ruling KANU party, the DP (Democratic Progressivista), the FORD-KANU party, and the FORD-something (the FORD party had experienced an internal rivalry earlier in the campaign and split into two separate parties.) We were heading to Kisumu to camp for the night, but I was beat so I went to take a nap on one of the back seats. I kept getting awakened by the screaming groups of three hundred people all having a political rally of one kind or another. It just made me more and more nervous because when this many people become involved and they don’t agree with the election results then there could be political strife. We drove towards Kisumu when this bus came barreling down the road, ready to pass us. Africa buses aren’t known for their safety standards ad this one certainly hadn’t passed any safety tests, for the chassis was messed up and the bus was cruising down the highway at a very jaunted angle. It looked as though it was almost cruising down the highway sideways – it’s tail was definitely not in line with the front tires. As the bus passed us its rear slid a bit and hit our side view mirror, shattering it, before heading off down thee motorway in a cloud of black smoke. We finally arrived at our campground literally on Lake Victoria, where we took everything off the truck. We had another Kenyan registered truck coming to meet us so we wouldn’t look as conspicuous travelling around Kenya. I heard Mick was driving “Bush Pig” straight through to Nairobi the next day so I asked him if we could tag along so we could get our flight out of the country ASAP. No problems. It was our last night with all the people from our safari so we tried to spend some time with them. Boz had arranged for some smoking materials for KSh100, and when it came all of us – Rich, Jenni & I were amazed. It was larger then a pint glass and dense – all for US$3.00. We had our last session together, along with a majority of the truck before retiring to bed. ### Transiting to Nairobi Date: December 28th, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/transiting-to-nairobi/ Kisumu, Kenya – One day to go until the election and we were headed to Nairobi to try to get out of a country which no longer the stablest in East Africa. We packed up our stuff and jumped in the truck with Mike, Tom and Jim who were also going to Nairobi to help Mick sort out the truck for his next trip – they were going to meet our group in Nairobi in a few days. We drove all the way through the beautiful Kenyan countryside, drinking beer and sitting inside our sleeping bags to keep warm. It was a really good day – we had a great time and the scenery was fantastic. We passed Lake Nakuru and could see a pink ring around the edge of the lake where the flamingos were hanging out. We arrived at the Kumuka compound at about ten o’clock that night and ended up just watching the Kenyan news. They were reporting that the police force in Nairobi would be doubled on election day with air surveillance to watch out for any hot spots in the city. The Kumuka guys were telling us that there’s been some riots in Nairobi a week before and that the opposition parties had already announced that they wouldn’t accept the election results if Moi wins. On that note Rich and I weren’t going to be hanging around Kenya to find out who wins the election – we were going to try to get a flight to Bombay the next day. ### Election Day – Nairobi, Kenya Date: December 29th, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/election-day-nairobi-kenya/ Moi declared today a public holiday so there aren’t any Air India flights leaving today, let alone the fact that no one at the airport was answering the phone anyway. We ended up just hanging around the Kumuka compound watching the only Kenyan television station for any election information. We knew we weren’t going to see a map of the country light up red and blue as the results came in, but we wanted any information. No dice. Election results would begin to be announced in the morning. Let’s take a moment to tell you about the Kenyan television station (singular). Kenyan Broadcasting Corp only goes on the air for a few hours in the evening, so for the rest of the twenty four hour period they pipe in CNN International to fill the gap. It was on there that the CNN reporter in Nairobi said, “. . . if President Moi were reelected there are the makings for a civil war.” Wonderful – I went off and tried to call Air India again. The Kumuka guys told us about an Acacia (another safari company) truck coming up to Nairobi from Mombassa a week before the election. It was cruising along when both the driver and courier noticed this large disk shaped thing in the middle of the highway. The driver swerved around it and after a few moments reassessing the situation he asked the courier, who’d been in the British army, if the thing they’d just avoided was a land mine. The courier affirmed the comment and they continued through a police check (where nothing was said) on to Nairobi. Chalk one up for Kenyan politics. ### Leaving Africa Date: December 30th, 1992 | Country: Kenya | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/leaving-africa/ Quote from today’s The Nation “Nairobi – UK awaits election monitors’ reports The Foreign Office said yesterday that it would not make a statement on the outcome of the General Election until it had reports from the British High Commissioner in Nairobi and the Commonwealth observer team. The British High Commission is said to have made plans to evacuate 47,000 UK expatriates in the event of post-election violence.” When I woke up this morning the KBC was giving us the results (very slowly I might add) that Moi was leading so far with some other guy not far behind him. I rang up Air India at 9:30 a.m. and got us placed on the Nairobi to Bombay flight leaving at 1:30 p.m. that afternoon. We would be in Bombay for New Year! Rich and I packed our bags and said goodbye to Jim, Tom and Mike before heading out to catch the matatu into town. I was sort of bummed we wouldn’t get to have our New Year’s party with the people form our safari truck – we had a great group, but there was no reason for us to stay in a country that was as unstable as it was, along with our own government advising us not to enter Kenya. We said our good-byes and caught the minivan into Nairobi city center and with one swift motion we were in a cab headed to the airport no less that two minutes after getting off the matatu. We boarded our plane an hour or so later to find a total of 20 people on an aircraft that was almost as large as a 747! We flew six and a half hours and at 9:30 p.m. local time we’d landed on the next continent (or sub-continent) of our world tour. India. We’d clocked almost 7,200 kilometers on our trip with Kumuka in our big blue 1961 German M.A.N. truck named “Bush Pig” ### Snake Farm Addendum Date: January 9th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/snake-farm-addendum/ Pune, Karnataka, India – At the snake farm, there was the most amazing array of animals, huge Bengal tigers, lions, cougars, and while tigers, plus you could get really close to the cages and get a good look at the animals. There was even this man riding an Indian elephant down the path where everyone was walking. We just walked passed him and watched the reactions of other people. The locals were taking coins and holding them out to the elephant. The highly trained elephant then took the coin from the Indian and handed it up to the man on its back. By tapping the elephant to a certain way, the man could tell the pachyderm to pick up the coin off the ground as well. This was one obedient elephant. Rich and I went walking around the zoo, but as we were making our way to the exit, we passed this elephant again. We did not give the man any money the first time and we certainly would not give him any now. So, the two of us just walked passed the beast. I do not know if the man told the elephant to do this, but as I walked passed, the elephant swung his tail nailing me in the shoulder. This was not elephant and even a swat from the beast tail physically knocked me out of the way, punishment for not paying to the elephant’s keeper. ### Last Night in Colva Date: January 15th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/last-night-in-colva/ Colva Beach, Goa, India – Woke up at 3:30 a.m. because my arms felt like they were being chewed up by bed bugs or scabies. It turned out to be neither, but that is certainly what it felt like. Could not get back to sleep, so when the sun started coming up, I wandered down to the beach to see the fishermen coming in with their catches. I got down there and there was a frenzy of activity. There were huge piles of prawns, fish, crabs, and what looked like crawdads all mixed together, and groups of Indian women were busily sorting each fish group into different baskets. I walked over to see how the prawns were when one of the boys held up a 6 to 7-inch king prawn and told me he sell it to me for 3 rupees or 9 cents each, amazing. Too bad, we had no means to cook them. We had not even seen a barbeque on this beach. It is too much like a tourist resort with tons of restaurants. We found out that there are no package tours with flights from Gatwick to Goa, specifically Colva. Again that accounts for the high prices for everything. At about 10 o’clock, I went and got Rich and Kate and the three of us walked about an hour down the beach back to this secluded spot I had written the day before. It was so peaceful. No fruit girls, no bed sheets for sale, no nothing. Bathed in the sun all day, napping, and watched the sunset before heading back. Due to our reservation for both of the dorm rooms we were staying at in the tourist complex, all eight of us were getting kicked out the next morning. So the lot of us went out to dinner together that evening. Had an amazing dinner of prawns and lively conversation wherein the Jeff, an AIDS counselor from New York City. After our rad dinner, we headed to Tequilas where I had my last beer before leaving. Colva is nice, but a little too touristy for my taste. So, leaving was not that hard. ### Discovering the Magical Village of Gokarna Date: January 16th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/discovering-the-magical-village-of-gokarna/ Colva to Gokarna, Karnataka, India – Woke up at 7 a.m. to pack our bags and get out to the road to catch the bus to Margao where we could get a bus to Gokarn, Gokarna to the Indians, the next beach town we have to visit. We met a couple from Edinburgh out on the curb who are also heading the same way, so we sat there with their island of stuff waiting for the bus. The bus came barreling down the road, turned around the traffic circle we were waiting, and raced back down the street the way it had come, not bothering to stop for the group of people and all of their stuff. We then had to hire a mini van to take us to Margao for the next leg of our journey. There were not any buses to Gokarn until later in the day, so we got the bus to Karwar, the biggest town near Gokarn. Jumped on the bus and took another one of those tropical Indian bus rides where the driver just floors the gas pedal and all of the passengers bounce around on the minimally padded seats. I took a seat next to the emergency door thinking that I would make a quick exit in the event of a crash, but the Karnataka bus company foiled my plan by forgetting to install a door handle on the emergency door, typical. Arrived in Karwar, a town not known for anything, save the 60 cows always in the middle of the street blocking traffic. We were told the bus to Gokarn was not leaving for four hours, so we just sat under an awning on the street watching life go by. I will say that at this point we had not been to a town that had so many cows as this place. I entertained myself by walking around, taking photos of city life while Rich and Kate fought off the ubiquitous beggars. The bus finally came and we were off to Gokarn on our local’s bus packed with people. This bus ride was rather like one of the ones in Malawi where the bus stops every 50 meters to let another local off right outside their respective houses. After a few hours of that, we finally arrived in Gokarn at 5 p.m. This town was amazing, not a lot of modernism, and not spoiled by too many tourists. This was the India I traveled so far to see. We got off the bus and were suddenly immersed in the craziness of this village. Men dressed only in their white dhotis with the white lines painted across their foreheads, would walk by and stare at us. Some of the shopkeepers screamed welcome while others just stood around watching us. We gathered our stuff and started walking down the street towards the beach. This city had the most amazing feeling to it. The city consists of one long narrow street with absolutely no side streets jetting off of it. The only other time I felt like this is at Disneyland or the Warner Brothers’ movie, backlot where you do not feel as the witcher walking past is real. The narrow street, the people everywhere, do not forget the cows, the 25 feet high tower ______ 329% in the street ready to be pulled through town during the festival honoring Ganesh. None of it felt real. It looked and felt like a movie set. We followed the street to the beach where one of the local lads led us to a place on the beach where we could stay. This Indian man has built a small complex similar to Mrs. Roches in Nairobi where people can stay. Rich stayed with the packs while Kate and I went and checked out the room they were offering. The owner met us and explained he would not have a free room until the next morning, but we could stay in a different room tonight. At that, he led us over to a long rectangle jetting off the side of the house made out of dry woven palm fronds, which looked like a life-size picnic basket. He pulled open the first panel. We looked inside and saw a 7 feet x 10 feet room complete with beaten earth and floor and walls made out of the same material as the door. I managed to just open it. I stepped into the room and got the same feeling, I imagine, Bob Denver had the first time he walked on to the Gilligan’s Island set. This was real life Gilligan’s Island. The ceiling was held up by a single pole holding up a large mat of the fronds and there was a 3-feet high mud wall along the back of the hut. There were tons of normal balanced vertically on top of the wall blocking out the light from the ceiling up to the top of the wall. It was really wild. The room was going to cost us the exorbitant amount of 10 rupees or 30 cents for the night for all three of us, mattresses 15 cents extra. Then, when we moved to one of the rooms with the mud and brick walls, the rent would go up to 20 rupees bonus bargain. Kate and I both accepted and went to go and get Rich and put our stuff in our “room.” The room really was more like a life-size basket with the door being just one panel tied with a string to a pole. It was a way too cool. We changed, then found the path leading into town. The great thing about the city planning of Gokarn or lack thereof is that there is only one road, you cannot get lost, not even if you tried because there are not any side streets. We made our way through the various turns in the road, passing temples, curio shops, and chai (tea) stores in search of a restaurant for dinner. We had been visited by the jay fay earlier, so when we hit the main drag where the street was really narrow with the strings of dried flowers hung over the road, it really felt like a Warner movie set. We had our awesome 8 rupee, 24-cent thalis for dinner before getting really tired from our journey and heading back to the room for some sleep. Little did we know, but Gokarn is a total hippie colony on the beach. The flower children of the 60s all made it here when they were booted out of San Francisco and London. As we were walking around, I heard one tenant ask another dude, “Have you started your painting yet?” “Yea! but it is not going too well” was the response. I did not laugh out loud. I found Rich talking to this woman 35 years old approximately who is telling him the story about how she joined a Hare Krishna Colony for two years when she was 18. People like that. Too funny that would stumble into this place. ### No Prescriptions Needed & the “Tata Tea Cow” Date: January 17th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/no-prescriptions-needed-the-tata-tea-cow/ Gokarna, Karnataka, India – This morning, we woke up inside our basket, gathered our things, and upgraded to a room with solid walls. This was your basic room, a little smaller than our basket with walls made of homemade bricks and mortar. I touched the mortar with my finger and a huge chunk of it fell out of the wall, so I assumed it was not real mortar. Headed to town for breakfast, but we got side tracked and went to the pharmacy instead. Now, Kate is a medical student, probably one of the best people to have around a dispensing chemist that will give you anything. After consulting her, about 20 tablets of diazepam, also known as Valium that cost 60 cents, got to love those Indian chemists. Found a restaurant, but since no one has any menus in English and very few waiters speak English as well, it is kind of a free for all breakfast. When we entered the restaurant, Kate went over and looked at what they were serving to get an idea of what to order. We ended up getting parathas and a bowl of this yellowed stuff called sheerah, which tasted like cream of wheat with tons of sugar in it. We filled the parathas with this stuff and washed it back with chai. As I exited, just outside the door to the restaurant there was this beautiful green Tata Tea ad painted on the building and right in front of it a good looking cow so I snapped a shot. [2009 Note: The Tata Tea cow was one of the most popular photos in all if the Traveller’s Tales collection, and in 1998 I returned to the same spot to see if the tea ad still existed. It had been painted over. In the photos at right the top photo is the cow, the bottom what it looked like five years later.] We wandered through town back to our room for we needed to get our stuff and go to the beach to the left of the place we were staying with a large rock headland complete with Hindu temple that we were told we needed to go over to get to the nice beach. We walked over to the temple at the base of the hill, but instead of taking the steps up to the side of the cliff, we thought we would walk around and see how it went. After 5 minutes of walking and crossing one rather large canyon, we hit a rock face that did not look that hard to climb, but in thongs it may have been a major project. Kate and Rich started scaling the thing and I went back to the temple and used the steps to the top. At the top, there was yet one more temple with a little old man asking for money, which I bypassed and started walking over the top towards the other side. Along the way, I spotted a guru sitting cross-legged at the next cliff over. So I hid in the bushes and took a photo of him sitting at the edge of his shoe rock face. I finally found Rich and Kate walking through a cow field just as three of us spotted the beach we have been looking for. We made it down the other side of the hill and ended up on this secluded beach with about 30 other people on it, all westerners and most of them hippies. Long hair abound on most of the people with the topless or no-cloth option definitely in play here. The beach was really uncrowded and so relaxing. We assisted our bodies in contracting melanoma for a few hours, then we moved up on to the deck of one of the local chai shops with remainder of the afternoon. Had our tea and snacks and all of a sudden, it was 5 o’clock. We did not know where the time had gone. We gathered our things and made the hike back over the hill to our room. Upon our return, we got so wasted that we literally could not move, so we just lounged around until we could deal with going into town to get dinner, made it to dinner, but we were still out of it hours later. We crashed in our room shortly thereafter, but I could not sleep. So, I went and laid on the beach and watch the stars. ### Uninvited Guests (or Pests) Date: January 18th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/uninvited-guests-or-pests/ Gokarn, India – A very lazy day, none of us got up until 11:15 a.m. and only left the room at 1:30 p.m. in search of food. After our snack we took a very leisurely walk through the city back to our place, where Rich and Kate sat on the beach and I sat under the shade of the porch reading and looking at the ocean; it was too hot to do anything else. The sun finally went down and we started our nightly walk in search of nourishment. I noticed it was darker than usual as we stumbled through the narrow street, and only when we arrived in the center of the village did I figure out there wasn’t any power. It was Tuesday so we just assumed there wasn’t any power on Tuesday. It’s funny how you just accept answers like that when you’re traveling in a Third World country. We ate dinner by candlelight and as we were walking down the street the power came on. Popped in to a little shop for some ice cream and the power went off again – typical. After our snack we didn’t have anything better to do than walk back to the room, for everyone else in the village had deserted the streets after the second power outage; they couldn’t be bothered re-lighting all the lanterns. The power came back on again just as we returned to our room so we could at least [see what we were doing]. All was well until I spotted what would cause us much excitement that evening. Up on the back wall above Rich and Kate was a large black cockroach just taking a look around. Now, ever since Rich & I had cockroaches in our apartment in Washington D.C., I’ve never been too fond of them and as long as they’re not near me I’m O.K. Kate loathes the things, so as soon as I’d pointed it out to the two of them, she immediately jumped up and was sitting next to me on the opposite side of the room from the roach. Rich dealt with the insect, using his thong to flatten it out – leaving a black stain on the wall. The roach was gone, so we all began to relax again, that is, until roach number two made his appearance. I picked up a T-shirt next to my sleeping bag and out from behind it crawled a huge red roach. I jumped up and immediately grabbed my lighter thinking I’d burn the thing to death. I chased it up the wall with my portable fire (insuring it wasn’t going to get back down into my sleeping bag) but it crawled into a hole in the mortar, escaping the flame. Kate was jumping around saying she couldn’t sleep until we’d killed the roach, so we sat there trying to figure out how to coax it out of its hiding place. Kate took a lit incense stick and jammed it into the hole thinking if she burned it a little the roach would come out. No dice. I moved over and peered in the hole with my lighter flame turned up as high as it would go. I guess watching me with the flame made a light bulb go off in Rich’s head because he immediately rummaged through his rucksack and pulled out a can of aerosol Old Spice deodorant. He took my lighter and fashioned one of those home made blow torches you get when you hold a flame in front of an aerosol nozzle as you spray it. I jumped across the room to where Kate was, and the two of us stood there screaming to Rich where to direct his six inch flame. He torched the hole and the roach re-appeared and made a break up the wall. Rich followed it with the flame, trying to flambe it, scaring the creature over the top of the wall into the next room. With the second roach gone we all relaxed – a little, so we just laid in our bed with the light on. This was when the next actor in our comedy of errors appeared. Right above Kate’s head on the wall closest to her was another roach. Rich spotted it and once Kate had figured out why Rich was poised over her, thong in hand, she made her usual flying jump across the room, landing next to me. Rich took a swing at the roach but ended up just knocking it off the wall so a game of hide and seek ensued with Rich throwing everything out of his way until the roach crawled up the wall again. This time its number was up and was tossed out the door on his deathbed of one Made in Taiwan thong. Hopefully that’s all the excitement we were going to get that evening, so we turned off the light and tried to get some rest. About twenty minutes later I heard Kate thrashing her legs around, and then her and Rich saying something. That’s when I felt something crawl off the backpack next to me onto my knee. I jumped up and started shaking out my sleeping bag to scare away the creature. When Kate heard my quick movements she sat up in bed and screamed, “Brad! Brad! Did you feel something crawl on you?” “Yeah.” When she heard that she lost it and shrieked, “OH MY GOD THERE’S SOMETHING IN HERE!” Kate was still screaming as she bounded out of bed, hitting the light switch on before climbing atop one of the backpacks. We had a look around for the creature to no avail, so we just turned out the light and hoped for the best. It’s not that bad sleeping in a room with cockroaches if you can’t hear them, the problem with our room was that the mortar between the bricks was not that good so when the roaches walked on the walls you could feel the bits of mortar fall off the wall onto your head as the roach moved along. ### Lounging and Smoking Date: January 19th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/lounging-and-smoking/ Gokarna, Karnataka, India – Woke up at 7:15 a.m., not fully rested after our cockroach ordeal, so we all had a smoke at 8 o’clock to relax us. We went to the town early for our usual breakfast of chai and sheerah before making our way back to the room to get ready for the beach. When we returned to our place, we thought we would sit on this wooden bed out under the shade of the palm trees for a spell before going to the beach. Just next to the bed, was a hammock tied up where I thought I would relax well. Four hours two jay fay’s, five candy bars, two packages of cookies, and three teas later, we were still sitting on the bed and in the hammock. Just the day before, we had mentioned we could not understand how people could sit on that wooden bed and piss away the day. We managed with no problem. We did make it to town about 3:30 for a late lunch, then it was back to the hammock for a nap before sunset and dinner. Hence, the habits you get into when you have no responsibilities. ### Cows, cows, everywhere Date: January 20th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/cows-cows-everywhere/ Gokarna, Karnataka, India – Three weeks ago, today, Rich and I arrived on the Indian subcontinent. I never would have thought we would be spending this much time here. This country really has a lot to offer. We have not traveled that far and we have got a long way to go but it has been too fun so far. This morning, the man that owned our little beach complex we are staying in told us that we got to upgrade our room to one of the beach front ones. We gathered our stuff and moved to the front building with the view facing the ocean. It is much better than our cockroach infested room, only you have got to watch out for the cows. Very huge number of cows that walk around on the beach in front of the room and if you do not keep the door closed, they will come up on the porch and have a peep in your room if you are not careful. Could not muster much energy, so sitting on the beach 10 yards from our new room, reading was the only thing we could manage. We all liked our new room because we could just hang on the porch in the evening before going to bed. No cockroaches in this room, just ants. At about 4 a.m., I awoke to the sounds of Rich taking our India guide and bringing it down repeatedly on the trail of ants making the way across his mattress. At least, it was not cockroaches. ### To Jog Falls, Karnataka Date: January 21st, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/to-jog-falls-karnataka/ Gokarna to Jog Falls, Karnataka, India – It was time for Kate, Rich and I to put ourselves together and move on. We have been sitting on the beach for almost 12 days solid. We packed our bags, took our last walk through the movie set town of Gokarn and jumped on the bus to Jog Falls. We did the tie your pack to the roof of the bus bit and had a rather boring, bumpy six-hour bus ride up and down the Karnataka mountains to the falls. I do not know what the deal was but the girl sitting behind me got car sick all over her mother and another older woman leaned out the window and booted everywhere. It seems that the only one who do not get car sick are the westerners. Once we arrived at the Falls, I climbed up on the roof of the bus and was in the process of untying our bags when the bus started to pull away bound for its next stop. Kate and Rich started screaming and hitting the side of the bus just as I got a firm grip on the luggage rack ready for the ride of my life. They managed to get the driver’s attention and he stopped long enough for me to throw the packs down on to the ground and climb off the back of the bus, typical third world event. We arrived at 5 p.m. So, we got a room and then wandered over to take a look at the Falls. These are the tallest in India measuring in at 253 meters, but they are nowhere near as impressive as Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. For lack of something better to do, the three of us hiked down to the base of the Falls and nearly died of over-exhaustion after completing the bloody climb out of the gorge. It was not that exciting to begin with. We went to sleep, more passed out from fatigue shortly thereafter, but before we could turn the light out, a cockroach had to make his cameo appearance by walking across my mattress. Kate happened to be closest to him, so she knocked him on the floor and killed him, followed by all three of us simultaneously pulling our beds away from the walls. ### Delirious Singing to Mysore Date: January 22nd, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/delirious-singing-to-mysore/ We were heading to Hassan today to check out what is supposed to be two really cool temples. Little did we know that getting there would be such a herculean task. No buses to Hassan, so we jumped on a local’s bus to the nearby town of Sagar, thinking we could get a train there. No trains or buses to Hassan there, but we could take the express bus to Shimoga where we could catch to get a third bus to Hassan. We took bus #2 to Shimoga and decided we needed a lunch break before any of us could face boarding another Indian bus ride. After lunch, it was to the bus station and when I inquired if the bus leaving at 3:45 under the Hassan sign was actually going to Hassan. I was told that that particular bus was leaving at 3:45 for Mysore, another 120 kilometers farther south from Hassan. The bus was about to leave and we were sick of waiting, so the three of us just boarded the bus and headed off to Mysore. We have been on so many buses that day that we were a bit delirious. So, about the sixth hour into our third bus ride, Kate, Rich, and I just started singing anything and everything that came to mind, children’s rhymes, musicals, Christmas carols. We were bored silly and upon our arrival in Mysore at 10:30 p.m. that night, we figured out we have been riding buses for something like 10 to 11 hours that day. No wonder we were deserving of those nice white jackets with the funny sleeves that tie in the back. We checked into the first hotel we could find, called the Ritz and had a real colonial time. We all really relaxed in our nice room with a shower that had real hot water. I did note that I had not had a hot shower since Christmas Eve. After a nice dinner and a few rums, we all retired to bed exhausted from the day’s travel. ### Rich Went Missing – I Found Him in the Hospital! Date: January 23rd, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/rich-went-missing-i-found-him-in-the-hospital/ Mysore, Karnataka, India – At 5 a.m. this morning, I awoke to the sounds of Rich getting sick in our loo. This happened at Colva beach, so I was not too concerned but then he told us his back hurt on the left side. You could tell the pain was really bad because Rich was trying to walk around the room but could not stand up due to the pain. Rich sat on a chair for a while, while Kate and I hypothesized as to what his ailment could be. After about an hour, the pain got too bad for Rich, so he and Kate left to go to the hospital. By 10 a.m. neither of them had returned and we were being kicked out of our hotel room in two hours. So, I went to go find us another room. I wandered around Mysore looking at the town and finally got us a decent room in the city center, only there were no locks on the windows. I went back to the Ritz, packed Rich’s, Kate’s and my bags and as I was leaving, I got this brilliant idea of how to lock the windows in our new room. I took out my Swiss Army Knife and cut a 2-inch strip off the full length of the bed sheet. I then quickly grabbed all our bags, locked the door and exited, jumping into the first available rickshaw I could find. When I arrived in our new room, I took my strip of fabric and promptly tied the window shut making our room burglarproof. After dumping our stuff on the beds, I decided it was time for my walking tour of Mysore. Still no word from Rich and Kate but I had left them a note at the Ritz telling them where our new room was. I went walking around the city and at about 12:30, I found the hospital, so I popped in to see if Rich had been admitted that morning. I walked in and noticed a crowd of about 20 people standing around something in the middle of the hallway. I walked to the crowd to find out what was so interesting and was shocked to find them gawking at a man in a wheelchair who looked like he just been in a car accident. His leg was wrapped up in gauze and he appeared to be in a great amount of pain, but everyone just seemed to be looking at him. No one with any medical type training appeared to be helping him at all. I passed this crowd of rubberneckers and made my way to the admission’s desk. The desk was swarming with short Indian men all gabbing away at the clerk, but seemed that I towered over all of the local men by at least 4 inches. He asked me what I wanted. I asked if an American man and a British woman had come to be admitted to the hospital early that morning. The guy said no and when I asked him to look through the records for the day to check, he told me no Americans had been admitted that day. I left the hospital and went back to the Ritz to see if the note had been picked up by either one of them. The man at the desk said a girl had picked up the note, which really confused me because they were not at the hospital. The note said for Kate to meet me at 4 o’ clock for tea at a specific café. So, when 4 o’ clock rolled around and Kate did not show up after an hour of waiting, I really began to get worried. I was thinking things like, Rich was anesthetized and Kate could not leave the hospital because they were going to perform surgery on him and she was not going to let them. I was trying to figure out how I was going to get Rich to Bombay or possibly to Hong Kong to get proper medical attention. All sorts of wild thoughts went racing through my mind, so I went back to the hotel room, grabbed all the rupees I had left, a brick of about Rs1200, and decided I was going to go to every hospital and clinic until I could find them. I went back to the main hospital but instead of going to admissions, I stopped two nurses in the hallway and asked where to go if an American man had been admitted that morning. “Stone building” was the response I received. Since every single building in the complex was painted bright yellow, I was confused as to what the hell stone building was. I walked in the direction the nurses pointed and after seeing nothing resembling a place we put sick people, I stopped another nurse and asked my question. Stone building was her answer and it was not until two nurses later that stone building translated into ‘”Hospital ward No. 1″. I finally found the gray stone building, entered and began wandering around. All the signs were in Tamil, so I was just poking my head into some of the different rooms. I found Rich in a ward with twenty seven other beds all occupied by locals with various ailments. Twenty seven beds in one room, it reminded me of one of the world war I field hospitals rather than a regular hospital. There were two nurses wandering around, looking rather nurse-like in their white saris. Kate was there with Rich and she explained that they had had a sonogram of Rich’s kidney done three hours earlier and they were waiting for a doctor to look at the results. Kate is a medical student at the University of Edinburgh, three years done with two to go and she had figured out from the sonogram that Rich had a kidney stone. I thought kidney stones were only for old people, evidently not. We sat around talking for a few hours and after Rich and Kate had been waiting five hours to see a doctor, Rich had a nurse give him a shot of painkiller and the three of us got up and left the government hospital. When Rich requested his painkiller, the nurse came at him with a clean needle, which we had given to her and she tried to put it in his ass and he kept telling her I want you to put it in my arm and she kept gesturing to his bottom and he said, no I want it in my arm, so the nurse kind of shrugged her shoulders, administered the shot and Rich screamed in pain because apparently the painkiller was a thick serum. While Rich was sitting in the government hospital waiting, I sat on the bed with them showing them pictures I had taken around Mysore and from Gokarn. When I heard this horrible banging on the outside of the building, I looked up over Rich’s head and there was a window cut in the wall that had no glass. It had a few bars going across horizontally and it was then covered with a bit of burlap sack. The banging on the outside of the building was heavy construction going on at the hospital with no regard to the sick patients inside. As I was talking to Rich, I noticed it was getting dusty and smoky and I could not understand why. I finally worked out that they were banging on the building outside and bits of stone and rubble were falling on the windows and then bouncing on to the floor next to Rich’s hospital bed. I could only imagine what else could happen in that room. Once we had left the government hospital, Rich’s pain had subsided and we had drugs to kill the pain for a few days until we could get better medical care. Right after leaving the hospital, we got a rickshaw out, out to a private hospital for their help, but were told by the doctor out there that the urologist was not in until 4:30 Monday. This was a Saturday and to just take drugs until then. After this ordeal, we went back to our new room and all had our first full night sleep in eight days. ### Another Indian Movie Date: January 24th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/another-indian-movie/ Mysore, Karnataka, India – We woke up in the late morning and had tea and the newspaper delivered to the room. It was Sunday, so we skipped visiting the doctors and just went walking around the city instead. We decided to have an easy day, so we went to an Indian movie called Pandian . This was a movie in the Tamil language, starring two of India’s famous actors. Insert script from guide and some other woman. When the macho hero appeared on the screen, everyone in the theater started screaming their approval. The plot reminded me of Greece and that it is about this macho dude who beats up boys and also does song and dance routines every once in a while. He and his buddies go to this nice hotel and start partying when this bitchy woman complete with her 20-chick entourage comes in and challenges the hero to a song and dance competition. The do a couple of numbers, which really reminded me of “summer loving” from the movie Grease, and she loses the dance contest more due to bad acting than bad dancing. The hero and the bitch play practical jokes on each other for two hours or so, complete with intermittent song and dance routines before the bitch finally breaks down and falls in love with the hero. Another musical number ensued in which everyone was dancing on no less than nine sailboats cruising around the Madras harbor. I have no idea how that related to the rest of the story line, but everyone except us seemed to like it. Finally, it was intermission and time for the three westerners to make their exit. I do not know how long Indian movies run but I would consider it some kind of cruel and unusual punishment if someone made me sit through an entire Tamil movie. It was dark or dusk rather when we left. So we headed over to the Maharaja’s Palace in the city center to check it out. The palace is only lit from like 7 to 8 on Saturday nights. So, we figured we’d have a look. No one told us it would look exactly like London’s Harrods. Hundred’s of little white light bulbs all over the palace – tacky. ### Maharaja’s Palace Date: January 25th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/maharaja-s-palace/ Mysore, Karnataka, India – Tea in bed once again. Then after breakfast, we headed to change money at the bank, which was supposed to be a major project, but it turned out to be painless. It was on the way to the bank that I found for the first time, the official India Indian red dots for sale. So, I splurged and spent the two cents and bought a pack of them. Since, we had time to kill waiting at the bank and the central telegraph office was next door, I wrote my parents a fax telling them we are still alive. From the bank, we headed across a street to take a wander through the Maharaja’s Palace. His palace is huge and you are only allowed entry once you have checked in your shoes and your camera at the respective checking desks. The palace is amazing on par with France’s Louis XXIV’s Versailles. It is so opulent and being in a country where you see the horrors of poverty on a daily basis makes the palace seem that much more grand. The walls, doors, and ceiling are all made of the most intricately carved mahogany, but you would get the odd door, which was silver plated with various scenes of the Ramayana on it. Some of the ceilings in the larger rooms were made entirely of stained glass giving the room a warm glow under the sun shown through. A few of the rooms had ceilings that made you think you were in cathedral and virtually all of the rooms were painted in brilliantly bright Disneyland type colors. Even with these brightly colored paints, it was not tacky like you to expect. It was still classy. The floors vary between regular marble slabs and marble inlaid with various designs, plus walking through this place barefooted made you feel more relaxed and free. It was definitely amazing sight and we were told that we were only allowed into a small number of the rooms. I wonder what the rest of rooms contain. After our palace tour, Rich and Kate went to go to the doctor, so I lounged around our room having tea brought to me for the duration of the day. We were definitely living the colonial life, tea and newspapers in the morning, our washing done on a daily basis, and that evening before going to bed, Kate, Rich, and I figured out that there was a button over the bed that would summon our tea boy when pressed. Now, we would not even have to move out of the bed and get tea. We could ring for the servant. In preparation for our use of the bell the next morning, we taped a note to the door saying we would like three teas. So the tea could be ordered without our having to get out of the bed to open the door and tell the man what we wanted. ### Indian Hospitals: Giving a Sample Date: January 26th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/indian-hospitals-giving-a-sample/ Republic Day, Mysore, India – I guess the tea man can only speak, not read English because after hearing our summons to the room he ignored the note and still knocked to find out what we wanted. Oh well, tea and newspapers in bed still worked – even if we had to get up to unlock the door. Rich wasn’t feeling too well so Kate and I got up early and told Rich we’d be back to get him for lunch. The two of us headed to the base of Chamundi Hill and started to climb the 1,000 odd steps to the temple at the top. About half way up the hill we found Nandi – the stone statue of the Sacred Bull, which was big, surrounded by Indians and very boring. We hiked the rest of the way to the top and up[on reaching the summit we found the Chamundi hill Temple – one of the few where non-Hindus are allowed inside. We sat there and watched the people and priests give offerings of coconuts and flowers to the gods. After watching this for a while we sat outside eating our snack of fresh green coconuts when one of the ubiquitous holy cows came over and began accosting me for some food. The only was to get rid of it was to lead it away with a piece of coconut husk for it to lick clean. Kate and I headed back down into Mysore and went straight to the street corner where the locals sell their materials. Plus at Rs 16 (US$.64) a meter we couldn’t pass up buying a ton of it. You see, not ten meters from the door to our hotel are no less than fifteen tailors – all for hire. Boy did Kate and I have plans for them. We went to the tailors and got prices for the stuff we wanted made. Here’s the list: shorts – Rs 30, Pants – Rs 30, Boxers – 15, button down shirt – 30. We dropped off our material to be transferred into various chemises, then headed to the sandalwood stores to see if we wanted to buy anything to send home. Sandalwood is incredibly expensive, so instead of that I broke down and bought a large smiling Buddha made of rosewood for Rs 150 (US$5). After our shopping spree we headed back to the hotel to get Rich for lunch. We’d done all that before noon! We went to lunch, but Rich wasn’t feeling well at all so we decided to take him back to the hospital to see the doctor again. Rich and I left Kate and headed over to the private hospital, but even though it was private it’s still the third world. It took us a while to get the receptionist’s attention and even then she told us to just sit down. We’d waited a while and then Rich laid out across the length of the bench in the waiting room because he really wasn’t feeling well. We were getting impatient with the attitude of the staff, and when the security guard told me to get Rich to sit up I screamed at him. “He’s sick! He needs to see a doctor!” I screamed this loudly across the waiting room in a very snide tone, but we’d learned that to get certain thing done in India that tone is needed. Rich was finally admitted to the hospital and put in his own room. They were going to check him out for kidney problems. Now even though Rich was in a “hospital” (quotes needed) I suppose the building was technically a hospital, but not what you’d expect a hospital to offer in way of services. This was a total do-it-yourself (D.I.Y.) hospital. Rich was issued a prescription for his IV fluids, drugs, etc., but the nurses aren’t required to get you any of the stuff. I had to go downstairs to the hospital pharmacy (which doubles as a closet) any buy al the stuff – needles, tubes and drugs, in order for the doctors to begin his course of treatment. The DIY clause also includes all food, drinks, etc., Third world hospitals! So frustrating sometimes – they’d try the patience of a Saint! Rich was due to have some X-rays done, so when they took him down for them I left to go get him some food and tell Kate what was going on. Kate and I returned to his room a few hours later to be told a story about him having to give the nurses a stool sample to test for Giardia. I was going to go to the loo, but was strongly advised not to go in there because of a mishap with the sample. The sample proper was in a specimen dish – it was getting it into the test vial the nurses had given Rich that seemed to be the problem. The vial was a small glass bottle with an opening not more than twice the diameter of the pen I’m using to write this sentence with. Rich was also hooked up to an IV so he was only able to use one hand, and the nurses had failed to give him any sort of instrument to scoop the sample into the jar. When one is in a situation like that you may as well make an attempt to help the nurses our and get some of the specimen into the jar. Rich thought the same thing and at that he scooped the jar across the specimen much the way you’d scoop a cup into a bucket of water thinking he’d get at least some of it into the jar. I never saw it, but I guess there was more on the outside of the test vial than actually made it inside. Rich just left it for the nurses thinking he shouldn’t have to deal with this, his quote to me being something to the effect of, “I hope the nurses are wearing rubber gloves when they come and collect that sample.” Rich buzzed the nurses (they always appeared in twos) and when they arrived, sans rubber gloves, he told them the stool sample was ready in the bathroom. I was poised in my chair near the bathroom door so I could get a good view of the comedy about to begin. Nurse number one (who I named Sid) entered the bathroom and after surveying the carnage Rich had left behind – one second in there on her own – she immediately popped her head out the door and began yapping away in Hindi, very quickly, at nurse #2 (named Nancy). Sid had this semi-troubled look on her face and then Nancy went into the bathroom to help her out. Out in the room I could hear the two of them yapping away at each other about what they were going to do with this specimen jar all covered in specimen. A few minutes later the two nurses came out of the bathroom, both with glazed looks in their eyes. Nancy was carrying the specimen dish, but I never saw the test vial make a separate exit. I can only imagine it was still with the specimen – exactly where Rich had left it. When they came out of the bathroom they found Rich, Kate and I doubled over with laughter, each beginning to tear up at the eye. How did they expect Rich to get the sample in the jar with an IV in his arm? As I said, sometimes you have to do dramatic things to get attention and get things done. Again, this was one of those times. I sat with Rich until 8:00 p.m. that evening, then I headed out for I needed to send a fax to the insurance company in London to sort out who was going to pay the hospital bill. Back to the room and the insurance company rang me from London to sort out the details and get a better idea of what was going on out here. As far as we knew Rich was going to be in the hospital until the doctors figured out what was wrong with him. Who knows how long that could take. ### Another Day At The Hospital Date: January 27th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/another-day-at-the-hospital/ Woke up, rang the bell, and had our usual tea and newspaper in bed. Kate and I dropped off more material at the tailors, then headed out to the hospital to see what was going on. When we arrived it was outside visiting hours, but because we’re white we were just let through the security gate and up into Rich’s air conditioned room. no word on exactly what Rich’s condition was – they were doing a few tests and still giving him flush therapy for his possible kidney stone. Kate and I sat with Rich in his drab, undecorated room all afternoon. Rich was given an air conditioned room that consisted of a bed pushed against the wall, one neon tube on the opposite wall, an air conditioner that sat in the window, and two white translucent windows that I had to tie shut with a piece of a stolen bedsheet so the mosquitoes couldn’t get in. The doctor came in and refused to show us Rich’s medical chart; he said to just ask him and he’d tell us what we wanted to know. Rather a pompous attitude for us, so we asked him question after question until he broke down and took Kate (who was a British medical student) to go look at Rich’s chart. Left the hospital in the afternoon and dropped off some more fabric at the tailors, then lounged around our room for a while. Met Kate at the room then went to the people who sell fabric and bought a whole bunch more. Back to the tailor, yet again to drop off the newest bits of fabric then finally made it to the hospital to give Rich dinner. He reported nothing had been done since we’d left earlier that afternoon. I went and had a meeting with the hospital administrator to get the billing sorted out and bitch that nothing had been done. After my whinge session with the administrator I headed back to our room to wait for the insurance company to call from London again. ### Arts & Crafts In The Hospital Date: January 28th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/arts-crafts-in-the-hospital/ Mysore, India – Woke up and Kate hit the bell so we could have our tea. We headed out and over to the tailors, as usual, then went to the outdoor market to pick up the supplies we’d need for this afternoon’s activities at the hospital. We headed to the hospital, gave Rich his lunch and showed him what we’d bought at the market. In addition to selling fruits and vegetables the vendors also sell water based paints in every color you can imagine. There are bowls full of the powered paints all over the market, so Kate and I picked up a bunch along with some potatoes and coconuts. We’d also brought with us a bedsheet stolen from the hotel and some string to tie it up onto the lone light fixture. After re-arranging the furniture in Rich’s hospital room I tied the sheet to the neon tube on the wall while Kate began mixing paint in each half of the coconuts I’d cracked open. Rich was sitting on the bed using his Swiss army knife to carve the potatoes into those potato ink stamps you used to make in pre-school. We were going to paint a mural on the stolen bedsheet to give Rich’s room some decor, and Rich something to do because he was so bored from sitting in there. Kate was busy mixing paint in any container she could find – specimen dish, water jug, you name it, it had paint in it. We had all the paints mixed and were about to start when Nancy (nurse #2) came in and saw what we were doing. She had this really perturbed look on her face until Kate thrust one of the potato stamps into her hand and told her to dip it into the paint. At that, Rich’s nurse was happily imprinting purple stars on our virgin bedsheet canvas. The nurse left and Kate and I used the stamps (and our hands) and went at it. When word got out about what the sahibs were doing in Rich’s room there was a never ending flow of nurses and doctors popping their heads in the room to see what was going on. One old hag head nurse came in with an entourage of like eight people and said in broken English, “Not on the walls. Not on the walls.” We nodded our heads yes, oblivious to the fact that the paint was seeping through the sheet onto the wall behind; we’d find out about that later. We finished our mural, getting a fair amount of paint on the floor, then took turns taking pictures standing next to our masterpiece. Rich was really depressed being locked up in a hospital room with a translucent frosted window, an air conditioner and a fluorescent tube to look at. He had the looks and demeanor of a P.O.W. refugee, and the doctors weren’t giving him the best medical care on top of it. I was going to call our Consulate in Madras to get a medical reference to someone who could give Rich adequate medical care. ### Escaping the Hospital Date: January 29th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/escaping-the-hospital/ No tea in bed this morning, for I had food poisoning from dinner the night before. The toilet was my friend for the first half of the day because I didn’t want to venture too far without having a toilet nearby. The tailor was just down the road so I paid him a visit to pick up all the stuff I’d had made. For Rs 265 (US$9.80) I’d had four pairs of shorts made, two sets of boxers and a super nice button down shirt personally tailored for me. Bonus plan buy – I should have had more shirts made while I was at it. From the tailors I went and called the US Consulate and was put directly through to the Consul – Hugh Williams – who gave me a medical reference for an American doctor in Bangalore, the capital city of Karnataka. It was only about two hours away by bus. It was about two in the afternoon and I was feeling better so I left Kate and went out to the hospital to get Rich out; we were going to Bangalore to a real doctor. I went and told Rich about the reference and he told me he hadn’t been given any medication that day because I’d arrived to late to administer any. At that we left his room and headed downstairs to the main reception to check him out. The nurses saw him out of his room and kept screaming for him to get back in his bed, but Rich just waved them off and told them he was leaving. The doctors wouldn’t give us Rich’s medical records so Rich refused to sign any forms, meaning the hospital would get no money from the insurance company. I went back upstairs and lurked around the nurses station in the corridor trying to figure out which set of charts I’d have to knick so we could get Rich out of the hospital. Couldn’t find anything so we left the hospital sans records and climbed into a rickshaw waiting outside. Just as the rickshaw was about to pull away the hospital security guards came running out and stopped the driver from going anywhere. We went back towards the hospital and one of the doctors met us in the parking lot saying “Take the records.” We went back inside and had a look at the records, but a sonogram Rich had given them when he checked in wasn’t in the file. Rich screamed at them some more and ended up telling one of his nurses to go upstairs and get his sonogram. “I know you can understand me, now go get the rest of my charts.” From the length of time he’d spent with them Rich had figured out how much English the nurses actually understood. The doctors were going “What sonogram?” and Rich said he wouldn’t sign any release forms. “Oh, that sonogram, just a minute.” The sonogram appeared, Rich signed the forms, got his chart and we were outta there. it took us over two and a half hours of screaming, talking, and walking from nurse to nurse to get him out of that place but when you say “I’m not paying” it tends to get their attention. Especially if you’re in one of the expensive air conditioned rooms. Rich’s total hospital bill for 3 and a half days was like US$50 – not even the deductible on the insurance policy, but at least he was out. ### Almost Running Over the School Boys Date: January 30th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/almost-running-over-the-school-boys/ Mysore to Bangalore, Karnataka, India – We got on our express bus to Bangalore, the capital city of Karnataka, but as usual, the “express” part was optional. Today’s choice of interruption was a strike by the school bus drivers whose routes happen to be on the same road we were traveling on. The school kids who had no transport home were blocking the highway and making the empty trucks and buses take them to the outlying villages. Our bus driver just slowly drove through the crowd of children. There were literally hundreds of them stopping all the traffic and we headed on our way. It was not until we were going through a one-lane road through a village that our driver finally had to acquest to the children’s calls for a ride home. There was a row of schoolgirls all holding hands blocking the only route through town. The driver stopped and all the girls filed into the isle of the bus. The driver took off like hell on wheels. For now, we had to take these kids to a village out in the middle of nowhere. Our bus was barreling along the highway when I spotted two rows of schoolboys all holding hands spread across the road and our driver did not seem to have any intention of stopping or slowing down for that matter. It was a game of chicken. Our bus going 65 miles an hour and two rows of 10 to 12 year old schoolboys all dressed in their white button-down shirts. The boys did not seem to face that the bus was not slowing down. In fact, our driver gave it a little gas to make our bus look more menacing as it picked up speed. The kids still did not move, so when we were about 15 feet away, the driver pushed in the clutch and rave the engine so loud effectively scaring the kids out of the way. Kate screamed when she saw how close we were to hitting the kids while I just grabbed on to the seat in front of me expecting to feel a soft bump under the front wheels of the bus. We finally arrived in Bangalore, found a room near the flower market, and then went out to a really nice Chinese dinner at a restaurant that played the first western music we had heard in a long time. After dinner, we were walking past the move theaters when we spotted that new American horror film, Poltergeist making its first run appearance in India. Poltergeist , was not that released like 10 years ago in 1983? Does not matter – we went in. ### Intro to Bangalore Date: January 31st, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/intro-to-bangalore/ Bangalore, Karnataka, India – Bangalore is the total yuppie capital of India with everyone here just like they were in the 80s at home. Everyone is dressed really nice and this city just exudes new money and wealth. The first thing we did was upgrade from our cockroach-infested closet (that three of us had to sleep in the bed together because none of us wanted to be on the floor with the bags) to a nicer hotel with a bathroom, ceiling fanned, and color TV with MTV Asia and BBC Asia. We were so stoked when we found a room with a TV. We were splurging at 6 dollars a night for that luxury. We went walking around the flower market. You have never seen this many flowers in your life. From there was the racetrack to bet on some horses. It sounded like a good idea at that time. We placed our bets, got our snacks, and headed out to the track. We sat in the stands, but were suddenly confused because there were not any horses in sight and the race was due to start any minute. We could hear the announcer listing of the horses over the loudspeaker, but where the hell were they. The man next to us explained that the race was up north in Hyderabad and the announcer from the track up there was piped into us. None of our horses won the race, so we got bored and went back to the hotel to get Kate’s stuff. Kate who had been our traveling companion for two weeks was leaving to go north. She had a plane to London she needed to catch. We said our good byes and Rich took her to the train station while I sat mesmerized by MTV Asia. Now, the room did not actually come with MTV Asia when we checked in. So, I called downstairs and I asked the hotel clerk if it was possible for him to get MTV Asia on the satellite. So what they were required to do was actually reposition the satellite dish to pick up MTV Asia and they wiped off one of the Hindi speaking languages off of the entire hotel closed circuit system. ### Trying for a Visa Extension at the State Legislature Date: February 1st, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/trying-for-a-visa-extension-at-the-state-legislature/ Bangalore, Karnataka, India – We got up and Rich headed to the hospital. He is on a tour of the hospitals of the third world while I took a rickshaw out to the commissioner of police’s headquarters to try and get our visas extended because they would expire before we could get to Nepal. I had to talk to three different people before being told they could not extend the visas because the embassy had given us the maximum period allowed. I was told to visit the home secretary at the Vidhana Soudha, the Karnataka State legislature building to see if I could get a special extension. We needed this extension and I was determined to get it. So, I went to the legislature and spoke to a government worker about the extensions, telling him that Rich was dying while I waived his passport in one of the medical admittance certificates from the Mysore Hospital. Dude gave me the forms and said he needed two copies of this, four copies of that, etc. I went across a street, copied all the stuff on the xerox, and began to fill out the paperwork. Seeing how it would take 48 hours to process and they needed Rich’s signature and he was not with me, I had to use his passport as my guide and forged his signature on the forms for the home secretary. It was back to the state house to drop off our appeals. Then, I got the chance to wander around a little bit. The legislature is a huge ornate building on par with California’s Capital Building, but the interior decorator must have been smoking a lot of crack when he picked the colors to be used inside the building. All of the ceiling facades and if you are really lucky, some of the wall facades are painted in one of five colors, bright lime green, neon yellow, neon pink, bright purple, or neon blue. These were all the colors that were compared to some of the rides at Disneyland. Once I had had my look around, it was back to the room for more MTV/BBC to wait for Rich. Doc said Rich was okay now. So we went shopping in the nicer part of the city for the rest of the day. We did manage to grab a pitcher of beer at a “English” style pub followed by a screening of When Harry Met Sally on the big screen. From there, it was back to the hotel for more MTV, neither of us had had a TV in our room for so long. We were ODing on MTV. ### Special Services for Sahibs Date: February 2nd, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/special-services-for-sahibs/ Bangalore, Karnataka, India – Out to a local’s joint for breakfast. Then, we went out to the Lalbagh Botanical Gardens to sit and read during the afternoon. I sat on a bench aways away from Rich, but situated so I could see him at his bench. After beating off like the fourth kid selling bags of popcorn, one of those light bulbs went off inside my head. When we were in Goa, Rich told one of the vendors that I wanted to buy some of whatever he was selling. The vendor then walked over to me and kept trying to sell me his stuff. I told him I did not want any and he said “that guy on the beach said you did, so buy some.” It is a known fact that you cannot get rid of these guys when they have been given a referral. Remembering Goa, I called one of the kids over and told him Rich was really hungry and had been looking for someone selling food. The kid went over to Rich and I could see Rich shaking his head no. The kid then started making these motions pointing at me, then pointing to Rich, telling him to buy some. I can tell this “use the vendor to harass your friend”. Game might be one that would be played for the duration of our trip. It was getting warm and we were getting hungry, so we headed back into town for a thali. Only this time, it was served on a large banana leaf, no fuss, no muss, and no dishes to wash. When we walked into the restaurant, I sat down in front of my banana leaf and the Indian waiter removed the banana leaf and put a plate in front of me. I then took the banana leaf from across the table, put my plate across the table, placed the banana leaf in front of me, and then he stole a banana leaf again. It took three tries of this game for me to get the banana leaf I wanted. It was back to the room to watch MTV, to dinner, then back for more MTV. ### “Temporary Permanent Resident Permit” Date: February 3rd, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/temporary-permanent-resident-permit/ Bangalore, Karnataka, India – Woke up and started watching MTV, sounds like a theme by this point. We had absolutely nothing to do and Bangalore being a government city, had nothing to offer us. We finally got lunch at 2 o’clock. Then headed to the state house to see if our extension appeals have been approved. Of course, they had not even been typed up yet, so we sat in the park until I could go and find out about them. In the office, they handed me an envelope and without looking at whom it was addressed to, I opened it in the hallway, but it was all written in Tamil. I went back into the office to ask them how long the extension was for and they were appalled that I had opened government correspondence addressed to the police commissioner. They were seriously upset, but just sealed the envelope shut and told me to go to the police station. I grabbed Rich and we headed over to get the visas extended. I had to meet with the assistant commissioner of police intelligence and tell him why I needed the visas extended. Medical reasons, but Rich was sitting outside on the sidewalk. Then it was to the deputy commissioner to tell him directly why I needed the special extension. I was sent to another man who gave me all other forms to fill out in quadruplicate, no carbon paper here, plus Rich had to fill out his own forms. I went out to get Rich. Then the two of us returned 20 minutes later and with cramped hands handed the officer our passports, four forms, and four photos. They said to take a seat. We would have our passports back in 10 minutes. Amazing, how we always managed to get the official papers we need, cutting through all the red tape I will never know, but I will never complain again. I got my passport back along with a large piece of paper with my picture stapled to it. The paper read “Karnataka State police residential permit under paragraph 7 of the foreigners, order 1984, Mr. B. P. Robinson not departing from India before 15/07/1993” July 15th, residential permit. Do not know how we manage to swing either one of those, but yee ha! We went to dinner from the police station, then bought a “Knockout” beer, which was so strong in alcohol, not taste. It did just that, knocked me out at 8 p.m. ### Cops and Taxis Date: February 4th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/cops-and-taxis/ Bangalore, Karnataka, India – We checked out of the hotel leaving our bags behind and headed over to the British Library, the twin to the USIA to catch up on world events. We had taken a rickshaw over there, but he took us in these out of the way loops to make the meter run longer. Upon our arrival, we flat out refused to pay the amount on the meter and offered what it should have cost, 8 rupees. The driver would have nothing to do with that. So, Rich got the map out and outlined to the cop, the roundabout route we had taken and then the cop started cutting into the driver for trying to screw the tourists. We ended up giving the driver what we had originally offered, only he gotten a verbal spanking from the cop on top of it. One small victory for the foreigners. We made it to the library where we sat all day long, reading everything. I read every economist printed since I had left London in October while Rich found some philosophy book to read. Four and a half hours later, we left and went back to the hotel to gather our belongings and headed over to the train station. We were off to Cochin in a few hours. We left the hotel for the station, but I managed to lose Rich during the 10-minute walk over to the station. I looked everywhere for him, even going all the way back to the hotel, but I eventually just went to the station. 10 minutes before the train was to depart, I found our carriage with Rich standing outside of it, imagine that. We boarded the train and went to sleep hoping that journey would be uneventful. ### Made it to Cochin & The Strongest Ever Date: February 5th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/made-it-to-cochin-the-strongest-ever/ Cochin, Kerala, India – We arrived in Cochin, actually its sister city called Ernakulam and booked ourselves into the Biju tourist home, great hotel. Now the Cochin area is almost exactly like San Francisco bay area. We were in Ernakulam, which is like staying in Berkley relative to San Francisco or Cochin. There is even a “treasure island” complete with naval base, right in the middle of the bay, plus the “bay bridge”, goes right through the middle of it. Insert graphic from journal. After dumping our stuff in the room, we headed over to the Indian Coffee House, which is a cooperative, run by the coffee workers. They serve the best cold coffee I have ever tasted along with some snacks for you to munch one. Little did I know that the India Coffee House would have satellite cafes all over Kerala. After our snack, we jumped on the public bus across Cochin’s version of the bay bridge to Cochin city proper. The first thing that struck me about the bus was the fact that it had no windows and it was about 87 degrees outside. It is hot and a fresh breeze flowing through the bus would be a perfect solution, right. Open the window, right. In Malawi, when it was 98 degrees, they were closing the windows, Egypt too. All of a sudden in India, the anti-logic capital of the world, someone had enough good sense to design a public transport vehicle without windows, designed for a 98-degree climate. It is too logical and too easy, that is why I was so taken aback by the simplicity of the whole thing, plus if the sun is shining on you through the open space where the window usually is, you got the option of pulling down the green canvas shade which blocks the sun off your own but still lets a little air through, amazing. Our bus arrived in Cochin a short while later and we began to walk around this quaint ex-Portuguese port city. The streets were all really narrow with palm trees bowing out over them and all the walls and doors are painted with a different color. The Keralans are so friendly. We had tons of people saying hello and talking to us as we made our way through the back streets of Cochin. We wandered into a section of the city called Jew Town, know for its Jewish population in addition to the abundance of spices being packaged for shipment. The smells of the ginger and the other spices waves through the air adding that perfect extra touch to your senses, which are already preoccupied from taking in quaintness and beauty of Cochin. We walked through Jew Town until we found the Jewish synagogue at the northern end of the town. The synagogue is the oldest one in the commonwealth with the Jewish community who uses it dating back to 52 AD. The synagogue itself was built in 1568, making it 425 years old and it is still in excellent condition. After having a look through the temple, we walked through more of the city until we hit the water on the northern side. This was the side where all of the Chinese fishing nets are placed and seeing as it was late in the afternoon, the fishermen were just beginning their work again. The Chinese fishing nets consist of a huge square net suspended on the end of a large lever out over the water. Imagine a pier out over the water and set into the length of the pier at the center with a huge lever capable of lowering large objects down into the water. The fishermen all live together and throw the huge lever up sending the net down into the water, but if the net is in the water, it is not the end of the lever 8 feet up above the men’s head at a 45 degree angle, yes you are correct and how do they pull the net out of the water when it is full of fish. Tied to the end of the elevated lever are no less than six pieces of rope. In addition to another six pieces, all with large rocks tied onto them to counterbalance the weight of the net. At the head fisherman’s word, the men all grab a rope and pull on it as quickly as possible, thereby trapping as many fishes as possible when the net is lifted back out of the water. Another fishermen empties the net. Then the net is dropped once again and the whole process repeated over and over. Rich and I sat there watching the fishermen when one of the local boys started talking to Rich and explained that the jay fay was in the bushes near us, meaning Rich could buy some marijuana. Rich went off with the kid and upon their return the boy told us we could get fresh seafood just down the shore there. Curious, we followed him down to a shack where the fishermen have all of their catches on display, lobsters, fish, and shrimp. You name it and it was here. Fish was 40 rupees, a lobster would run you 70 rupees, and half a kilo of shrimp was 70 rupees or $2 and 80 cents. We purchased a half kilo of some rather large prawns, then headed across the grass over to the man with the sign saying “you buy it, I cook it.” We gave him a shrimp and for another 20 rupees or 80 cents, he cleaned, spiced, and cooked up our shrimp for us, nice, cheap, and elegant snack. After the snack, we hung out taking pictures of the nets at sunset. It was rather a spectacular site. Back to the room that evening to see what the jay fay brought us, we had smoked a little more than half of one joint and both of us were floored to the point we could not move plus it was not like we were sleepy, total headrush city. Both of us thought we were on something much stronger than the jay fay could provide. Rich couldn’t deal so I pulled it together enough to go down the street to the Portuguese bakery to get a cookie or something but in my altered state after ordering six cookies, and everything looked so good, I asked the shop owner to just give me two of everything in the store.I arrived back in the room with this huge box of western cookies and pastries and Rich literally could not believe it. First, I’d gone out to deal with India in our condition, and second, I found some of the most delicious sweets we’d had in a while. After having had tons, this was definitely the strongest pot I had ever had and I could not stay awake past 8 o’clock. ### Kathakali Dancing Date: February 6th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/kathakali-dancing/ Cochin, Kerala, Karnataka – Woke up at 11 o’clock and the first words out of my mouth were “too many drugs.” My brain was mush from the night before and we had learned that you could take one hit and then put it out anymore in your history. We left our room in time for lunch and just wandered around Ernakulam. We did see an absolutely horrible 1979 film called . . . something . . . starring Art Garfunkle of Simon & Garfunkle. Art you should have just stucked to playing the guitar because you are a horrible actor. We went to dinner, then went into one of the residential sections of town to this man’s house. Mr. Devan is an Indian man who puts on a Keralan Kathakali dance exhibition on every night upon his roof terrace. Kathakali dancing is the acting out of various scenes from the Hindu religious epics. The dancing is rich in tradition, as is every facet of the event itself. There is great care put into the face makeup of the dancers and watching them being made up reminded me of seeing the actors from cats being made up. It is that intricate. We arrived on the roof at 6:30 p.m. after handing over 50 rupees in time to see one of the dancers being made up. Once it got dark, Mr. Devan, the director and instructor gave us a lecture about Hinduism and the Kathakali dancing. Shortly thereafter, the dancing began. The only instruments being a large drum and a pair of mini cymbals. The costumes were so intricate and colorful and the dancing not half bad. Rich leaned over to me half way through, and asked if the entire thing was improvised. Good question because sometimes it certainly looks like it. After a round of speech, we shook Mr. D’s hand and headed back to our hotel. ### Our first dose of ‘fame’ at an Indian festival Date: February 7th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/our-first-dose-of-fame-at-an-indian-festival/ Cochin / Ernakulam, Kerala, India – Got up and went to our usual breakfast at the Indian Coffee House. After walking around for a spell we decided it was too damn hot to be outside so we headed back to the room to play the new game we’d invented two nights before. It’s called 999 (because that’s the number you have to play to) and it uses two decks of cards shuffled together so you have no clue as to what cards are going to be coming up. It’s sort of like Rummy 500 with a few twists to the rules – too many to put in print here. We played 999 until 4:00 p.m., for we had to get some food and catch the boat across the bay to Vypeen – Cochin’s version of Marin. 18k’s north of Vypeen in a city called Cherai it was the final night of the Pooram Festival at the Sree Goureeswara Temple. Who were we to miss a festival – no way. We caught the car ferry across the water, and it just so happened that a wedding party’s cars and bus were also on the boat across. I spotted the bride and groom in one of the cars and all I can say is that the bride looked very, very young, and as the Indians have arranged weddings she looked terrified. She was sitting next to the groom and all she could do was pull her shawl up under her nose and look away from him in fear – not once did I see her look him in the face. Our boat arrived at Vypeen and we jumped on the bus with the crazyman driver at the wheel – as usual. You see, in order to get a bus driver’s certificate you absolutely must have a lead foot for the gas pedal – it’s a standard Indian requirement. Our bus literally flew down our one and a half lane road with villages and houses whizzing by (some not more than 10 inches from the side of the bus)! We arrives at the festival at Cherai a short while later; we knew we were at the festival by the sea of people walking down the street towards the temple. We walked and found the temple with little problem – it was the 21 live elephants decorated with silver and gold standing in a row outside the temple that gave it away. There was a large courtyard outside the temple and when we walked up there it was like being at a concert in Wembly Arena – people everywhere. Plus as we were at least half a head taller than everyone else we had a great view over the crowd and could see how far this sea of people stretched. As there didn’t appear to be much going on yet, the fireworks were much later, so Rich and I took a walk through the town to see what was up. It was a real carnival atmosphere with people everywhere. As we were walking down the street every single person walking the opposite direction was STARING at us. You’d have thought we were zoo animals that’d escaped the way these people were watching us. Of course to the locals we do double as zoo animals on a very regular basis while traveling around. This was different though, out of a crowd of more than 100,000 people we were the only Westerners , and from the looks you could tell some of those people had never seen a sahib before. We just walked along returning the “Hellos” called to us, shaking a few hands, before we decided to head back towards the temple to see if anything was happening yet. During our walk, on the way back a group of guys about our age walked up and started talking to us. I was walking behind Rich when one of these five guys walked up to him and held his hand, as is accepted in Indian culture for men to walk along holding hands. They don’t do it with any sexual connotation attached, the males just hold hands with their friends – it’s a socially accepted thing in India. Before I knew it another Indian dude was holding my hand and talking with me. Rich tried to get his hand free, but couldn’t, so he just talked to the dude some more, whereas whenever I let got of the hand holding mine it would just re-attach itself. In talking with this guy I did find out that NO Westerners come to their festivals. We walked along and talked with these guys en route to the temple. When we arrives there they let go of our hands and said they’d meet us later. Rich and I walked through the crowd, which was swelling even more than before by this time – all eyes on us, and every once in a while one of our friends that we’d met on the way over would come over and chat to us. I guess if you knew the sahibs you may as well flaunt it, especially in this environment where everyone in the village would see them talking to us. We walked to a point where we could see the elephant procession when I spotted a little girl about nine years old looking in our direction, but hadn’t actually spotted us yet. She spotted us moments later and her mouth dropped open in awe. After five seconds of shock, staring at us (mouth still open), she reached up and without taking her eyes off us fumbled to grab her older sister’s arm to tell her there were two white dudes at the festival. She got her sister’s attention then blatantly pointed at us as she said something to her sibling. I smiled at her which scared the hell out of her, causing her to hide on the opposite side of her sister, occasionally poking her head out to take a peek at us. From the expression on her face you’d have thought she was seeing extra-terrestrials or something! Shortly after the little girl’s sighting we met this nice man who worked at some university in Kerala. He took us to tea and asked us questions about America. He was really well educated and didn’t seem spooked about our presence like a majority of the population there seemed to be. He asked if we had elephants in America, I guess we didn’t realize that elephants are pretty commonplace to an Indian, like dogs to us. I told him we didn’t have elephants, only dogs. “You eat dogs?” he asked. “No, we eat c–” and cut myself off before saying “cows”; we were at a Hindu festival, as Rich finished my sentence with “We eat other things.” After tea we walked back into the crowd to see what was going on, for now there were large cannons going off at 10 minute intervals, and there was a red flare of some sort being held above one of the elephants. Every time we stepped into the crowd people would gather around to talk to and look at us. There was always a row of people walking past to have a look at us. At one point I felt like a royal dignitary greeting the guests at a social gathering. With all these people constantly around you it was (as we decided later) a dose of movie star fame. It wasn’t popularity, because that’s when everyone likes you. This was fame – when you’re just all around known to the people and a spectacle. “fame – n. state of being widely known or recognized.” With both of us a minimum of two to three inches taller than everyone else we were easily identifiable and people were definitely going out of their way to have a look. Some of the people in the crowd surrounding us (a certain few who we’d been speaking to) must have been wasted, because at one point they dragged over an Indian albino and told him he was another Westerner at their festival. They though it was funny and I was rather appalled. This was all going on in an atmosphere of ear-shattering cannon blasts, Indian men talking to us constantly from every direction, and the crowd surrounding us getting bigger by the minute. I decided it was time to break this up so we moved to a slightly more secluded area where our friends from the street found us again. We stood there and watched the elephant procession move forward, then eventually disperse in every direction with elephants going everywhere through the crowd. The viewing line of Indians soon appeared to our right and our crowd around us was beginning to form again, so shortly after the elephants made their exit we decided to make ours as well; there are only so many hands you can shake and people you can talk to at one time. Being that the elephants were exiting in all directions you couldn’t leave the area without walking past one. We were almost out of the crowd, with the street in sight, when one of the three elephants blocking the way decided to take a few steps closer to the crowd. Well the pachyderm’s actions almost caused a riot because everyone kept smashing up against one another and screaming to get out of the way as the elephant got closer and closer. The animal finally sorted itself out enough so Rich and I could make our way out of the crowd, passing between two of the elephants, and out onto the street. We were still famous as ever; people were touching and pinching me, screaming “Hello” and staring away as Rich and I made our way through the masses down the street. We jumped on one of the sardine can packed buses (where we met some more of our Indian friends from the festival) and headed back to the port at Vypeen. It was the day after the full moon and by the time we were on our ferry across the bay the moon was up and its light glistened off the water like diamonds dancing on the waves. We arrived back in Ernakulam a while later – both of us physically and mentally drained from our experience with fame. We passed an Indian wedding, just getting started, on our walk home, and when I asked Rich if he wanted me to see if I could get us invited I got a hearty “No!” from him. I think we’d both had enough fame for one day. Not that it was bad in any respect – just different and we weren’t really prepared for that large a reaction on the locals’ part. It was incredible to actually learn what it feels like to be famous; yet another thing I’d learned while on this trip. I had a fabulous time and now I know what a movie star or a politician feels like being famous. It was our lesson in fame. I guess it’s another facet of the world / life which I hadn’t fully understood until placed in a first hand situation where I got to experience it. Now I’ve learned about it and am better prepared for my next dose – there’s got to be another one coming up somewhere soon! Tuesday 16th February 1993, Indian Express (Newspaper) – Desert Festival BHUJ (TOINS): Large scale preparations are on for the second ‘Kutch Utsau’ festival which will begin on Wednesday at Gangaba middle school here. A “Sanskruti Yatra” consisting of decorated camels, bullock carts and the police band will be taken out after inaugural function of the four-day festival. ### Cochin to Alleppy Date: February 9th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/cochin-to-alleppy/ 8th February, 1993, Cochin, Ernakulam – Up late morning and back to the Indian Coffee House to create an entire table of dirty dishes. Walked around a bit but it was oppressively hot, so went back to the room to escape the heat “relaxed”. The only notable thing we did do was call our friend Mariita in Hong Kong to sort out our travel arrangements with her. Too hot a day to do anything. 9th February, 1993, Cochin to Alleppey – Caught a bus to Alleppey after breakfast at the Indian Coffee House, which is further south down the Peninsula. Alleppey is a quiet little town set on the bunch of canals rather like Amsterdam or Venice. The draw here is that is the embarkation point for the boat journey through the backwaters of Kerala. The state of Kerala became the first place in the world to freely elect a communist government of power. As a result, everywhere we went in Alleppey had signs of a communist regime. Cooperatives forms and hammer and sickle flags hung everywhere. There were even large hammer and sickle designs set into the tar of the roads. After a long walk all over Alleppey, we rested during the heat of the day. ### Kerala Backwater Ferry Date: February 10th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/kerala-backwater-ferry/ Alleppy, Kerala, India – We got up early this morning and boarded the boat for an our all day journey to Quillon via the delta backwaters. Our boat pulled away and Rich and I grabbed prime seats in the sun on the roof to take in the sites. The backwaters consist of series of canals, which create long strips of land where the people live with water on either side. The palm trees all lean out over the water and the narrower channels making a very pleasant green canopy for us to cruise under. We marveled at the fact that these people had built full houses complete with large families. In addition to having cows, goats, all animals on a strip of land somewhere between 25 to 20 yards across, it was amazing. We passed full cities constructed along the water complete with bus “boat” stops to shuttle the hoards of school kids to school. I have so many photos of this trip mainly because we were so impressed with what we had seen. After a few hours, Rich made a comment that it was sort of like visiting the zoo because we the sahibs were in our boat protected by water between us and the animals, the locals out on shore. We saw tons of locals both men and women up to their shoulders in the water picking clams up off the bottom of the canal. Men diving down and coming up and putting huge chunks of mud into their boats was another common site. We figured they would use it for building materials. Due to the fact that we were on a government-sponsored tourist boat, we had to see the stupider, lesser known sites like the largest snake racing boat in India along with the coir coconut fiber factory, where they make door mats and garbage like that. After our lunch stop, we met Reuben, who is an Australian and Nikki, a German up on the roof deck. Both were great fun to talk to and it helped pass the time when the novelty of the backwater life had worn off. Reuben is the ex-marketing manager for Polygram records, Australia. He had met tons of people and had a real career before he quit to go travelling just like the rest of us. He did tell us about his escapades with heavy metal band, Metallica, New York. Nikki is a travel agent from Germany and when we found that out, I pulled out our plane tickets to see if we could cash them in for we had heard about cheaper flights to the places where we are headed and we were looking at travelling for longer than the tickets are valid for. We arrived in Quillon shortly after dark and ended up going out to dinner with Nikki and Reuben after checking into a rather hot grotty hotel. Quillon is no where near as impressive as Alleppey, so after wandering around the city after dinner, we figured we had seen enough. ### “Did you see that?” Date: February 11th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/did-you-see-that/ We grabbed a bus to Trivandrum, the Kerala state capital, first thing in the morning after the India Coffee House breakfast. As our bus without windows was cruising along, Rich turned to me and said, “Did you see that?” “See what?” was my reply. “The sun just went behind a cloud,” he responded while pointing into the sky. When you do not see clouds for weeks at a time it is major event when one actually interferes with the sun. “The sun just went behind a cloud,” he responded while pointing into the sky. ” We arrived in Trivandrum, which did not give the impression of being a state capital at all. It had narrow streets lined with shops, all under a palm tree canopy. A real sleepy feel to the whole city. We found a hotel and immediately went to the train station to sort out a ticket to Northern India. We have been here six weeks and have not made it to the north yet. We are getting stuck again, but that was to end fairly quickly. Our train ride up to Ahmedabad, north of Bombay was going to take us around 50 hours, so we both immediately decided a first class berth was absolutely necessary for a hell ride like that. The first class ticket cost us Rs. 1083 or $35. We wandered through the streets of Trivandrum for the remainder of the day avoiding the heat of the days as the locals do. We are getting good at this. Since there are not a lot of noteworthy sites in Trivandrum, we just vegged in a movie theater that evening viewing that cinematic masterpiece, Miami Blues . The theaters in India are all pretty shoddy, so it can be rather difficult finding a seat comfortable enough to endure for 2 hours. We sat on a couple of seats and the second I sat down, my seat folded down farther than it should, making me end up sitting on the floor. Rich tried another seat, which seemed to be okay, but then almost cut his arm open on the exposed metal where the armrest was supposed to be. My next seat had a spring poking me in the butt and Rich’s next choice had a seat back that felt like you were sitting at a 45-degree angle forward. The two of us then split up and proceeded to give at least 25 seats each, comfort test drive, the locals all turned around and had a great time watching the two sahibs running around the theater trying out every available seat. We finally ended up seating in two separate rows, one seat from each other deciding that these were the only two unbroken seats in the theater. After watching the garbagy American film, we were exiting the theater and just as I was telling Rich what thrash the movie was, I heard this voice with an Australian accent pipe up from the back row. “Was not that a horrible movie”? Low-and-behold, who should be sitting in the theater, but Reuben and Nikki who had made it down to Trivandrum on their way to Sri Lanka. We chatted with them and went out for coffee until midnight, seeing that they were heading to Nepal after Sri Lanka, we arranged to meet them in Katmandu on March 15th outside the general post office at 2 o’ clock if we were there by then. Who knows, we saw Simon from Egypt two months later in Zimbabwe, so you never know what could happen again. ### Kovalam Beach Date: February 12th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/kovalam-beach/ Trivandrum, Kerala, India – Rich had to go to the post office, so I arranged to meet him on the beach later in the afternoon, went to the bank to restock the coffers for the northern half of the country. Then boarded an Indian version of an African matatu down to Kovalam beach. Looking out the window during the ride, I reflected on what we had seen so far and came to this conclusion, India is not just one country, each state is totally different from every other state. The peoples’ attitudes, the language, the food, and even some of the customs change each time you cross the border into a different state. India could actually be seen as a working model for the European Community, for each state has their own individual identity and their own regional state governments all under the umbrella of the central government of India. The Europeans are all concerned that they would lose their identity under the European Union, but the individual Indian states are living proof that such a union can, in fact exist. Our matatu arrived in Kovalam, which is a very large western tourist resort. It is nice, no doubt, but extremely touristy with prices to match. There are two coasts, each beach lined with row after row of restaurants and craft shops all over-priced. Great place for a two-week holiday, definitely better than Goa, but not for the budget traveler. I lounged around on the beach and swam a lot, for we were about to travel north and be land locked for at least two months. I went walking around in the afternoon and met Rich at 5 p.m. We sat and had tea while watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean. We headed back to Trivandrum for dinner and to buy food for our two-day train journey. Surely thereafter, we returned to the room to relax and read Alice in Wonderland, a great book to read when high. ### Boarding a 50 Hour Train Date: February 13th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/boarding-a-50-hour-train/ Trivandrum, Kerala, India – We woke up and judging by the temperature outside at 10:00 a.m. we declared a “Weather First No. 2” This was by far the hottest day we’d experienced in India. Our heat wave wasn’t going to last that long, for we were crossing out of the tropical zone for the first time since we’d entered it way back in October in Botswana & Zambia. Boo hoo. We headed over to the station, but of course a train had derailed somewhere up the line so our train was delayed. None of the station workers knew which trains were coming or going or whether our train would depart at all. Wonderfil – and I was about to willingly board a train for two entire days? What was I thinking? Our train finally pulled up at 4:00 p.m. and we found our first class coupe (pronounced coup-ay ) which was to serve as our cell for the next fifty hours. The coupe had two fold down beds, one of which doubled as the seat during the day, plus two small tables, one in each corner of the room. We had one window looking outside and one, with bars on it, which faced the train’s hallway – another glass windowon the opposite side of the corridor. We dumped our stuff down and to our surprise the train pulled away at 4:30 p.m., just as soon as everyone had boarded. Not a lot to do on a train, so the jayfay visited, and as the lights in our room were too dim to read by once the sun had gone down we retired early for the evening. ### Day 1 – The Train North Date: February 14th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/day-1-the-train-north/ En Route to Ahmedabad, Gujurat, India – We both awoke at 4:30 a.m. due to the clambouring, bumping and talking of the Indians in the compartments on either side of ours. Laid in bed for a few hours until the sun came up, then we got up when we heard the calls of “ chai ” echoing down the corridor of our carriage. We raised the window facing the corridor and passed our cups through the bars to the chai man. The bars on the window to the hallway not only kept us in our cell, but they served as a beautiful protective measure against the beggars and peddlers we didn’t want to deal with. The jayfay visited shortly after tea, so I resigned myself to reading Alice in Wonderland and standing in the doorway of our carriage watching the world go by. ### Train Culture & Arriving in Ahmedabad Date: February 15th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/train-culture-arriving-in-ahmedabad/ En Route to Ahmedabad, Gujurat – Both Rich and I were awakened at 5:00 a.m. again by the crashing and banging of the Indians in the adjoining compartments. God only knows what they do from 4:30-6:00 a.m. then then be completely silent for the rest of the day We stolled at a station about two hours later which gave me enough time to jump off and get some potato something or other server in, get this, a bown made out of a dried leaf. What will they think of next? During the course of our train ride today the only item of interest was the largest nuclear power plant I have ever seen. There were three cooling towers, all about the same size as those in the States, but then there was the grand daddy tower which was a minimum of twice the size of the smaller towers. I was mighty impressed with this feat of engineering, but why are there still so many problems with sanitation and poverty in the cities if they can manage to build something like that? Fifty two and one half hours and 2,470 km (1,535 miles) later we finally arrived in Ahmedabad, Gujuray at 9:15 that evening. We jumped in a rickshaw to our hotel, and as we were going along noticed that most, if not all the shops were closed, and there weren’t that many people out on the street (this is a country of 900m – there are people everywhere ). We checked into the hotel to find out there was a 10:00 p.m. curfew in effect due to the riots in Bombay. We ran around the corner and grabbed a bite to eat, returning to the hotel just as the clocks struck ten. ### Mosque Across the Street – Aaaaarghh! Date: February 16th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/mosque-across-the-street-aaaaarghh/ Ahmedabad, Gujurat, India – We had a good sleep, that was, until 4:30 a.m. when the mosque across the street (the one with the 500 amp loudspeaker 20 feet from our window) began morning prayer. It really did sounds as though the priest , or whoever it is that catterwalls into the mic, was standing in our hotel room screaming at the top of his voice. That’s right! This section of India is predominently Muslim! Back to sleep after prayer, but up once again for the 6:30 a.m. wake up call. We got up, ready to have a look at Ahmedabad. The first thing that struck me was the people in Northern India are more fair skinned than their coffee skinned bretheren to the south. There people up here were also much more forward, screaming their “Hellos” and coming up and chatting to us. We walked the streets of Ahmedabad, which had dirt and trash everywhere mixed along with the exhaust fumes from the seemingly never ending streams of cars in all directions. I was getting this Cairo flashback from the noise, cars, and dirt but that was until we found the market. As Ahmedabad is only known for making most of the fabric in India, it is the textile capital of the country that’s all they sell in the market, fabric. I didn’t go crazy as I did in Mysore. I just bought two sheets to make a sleeping sheet out of. One with the Gujarati print and the other your basic made in a factory print. There were fabric stores everywhere each with the pole hanging out over the street draped with every colored fabric imaginable. It gave the market a very festive feel to it. Everyone was really good-natured and were unfolding fabric for us to look at every time we turned around. More than once, I saw a rim of fabric roll away as though it had a mind of its own, leaving a long colored trail behind. We managed to find the Swami Narayan temple in the middle of the market, so we took off our shoes and wondered around this brightly painted monstrosity for a while. We had a really nice dinner. Then saw quite possibly the worst movie made in the early 80’s James Bond’s Never Say Never Again . ### Commuter Trains to Bhuj Date: February 17th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/commuter-trains-to-bhuj/ Ahmedabad to Bhuj, Gujurat, India – We had our usual prayers at 4:30 and 6:30 a.m. Then after we got up, we headed over to the GPO so I could post yet another parcel. Stitching, wrapping, riding, pasting the Indian Postal Service does love their arts and crafts. The easiest way to deal with the bugger is to just ask them how they want package label. Sometimes, the return address goes on the bottom on the side etc. so to make the entire process that much less painful, its easier just to wait and ask so the mail dude does not get flustered. Of course, every square inch of the parcel had to have something written, sown, or glued on to it. It is the Indian way. The Indian culture and logic section of my brain was still stunned from the common sense used to designing the Kerala buses without windows but when Rich came over to me with some stamps he purchased, my brain was put at ease. International post cards cost seven rupees and letters, eleven. I even written it on piece of paper so that the postmaster couldn’t mess it up, but he could of course instead of having stamps printed in denominations used frequently or set rates. They just have stamps in all denominations, plus have not figured out their thinking quite yet. But when Rich asked for two sets of seven rupee stamps, we wondered around after a post office ordeal trying to kill time for we were headed to Bhuj on that evening’s night train. There was some festival going on out in Bhuj, which is in Western Gujarat near the Pakistani border. We arrived in the station that evening and found a carriage with no problem. Well there was one problem, our bunks were above a set of two, four person benches facing each other and there were no less than 15 people crammed into the entire area. I mean there were people everywhere and were completely undaunted when a tall, blonde, Western man carrying a 15 kilo rucksack entered the carriage to deposit his luggage. No one moved an inch or gave any ground. So I ended up setting my pack on above kneecaps until the pain was too much too endure. The kneecaps moving and my sliding the pack under the seat, it was that easy. Neither of us could believe that we would have to endure this ride for the next 18 hours out to Bhuj. The carriage read second class, but this certainly seems like a third class carriage. The train started off. Rich and I in our bunks above the sea of people, but we did not know was that the train was also an Ahmedabad commuter train, so four stops later, the entire carriage was empty except for us. We sat down on the benches and had a good look around. Crappy wooden slat benches with the paint worn off, then dim light bulbs with wire protective mesh twisted and hanging from the ceiling like deformed Christmas ornament. The paint peeling of the wall over the window and absolutely no lights to be seen at the window. Another perfect setting for one of my twilight zone scripts, “Two men on the train in the deepest darkest India neither knowing their train would take them on a ride of terror”. Monsoon flood sweeping carriage away. Bhuj sits in the center of the Kutch district of the state and we learned that during the high rains of the monsoon this third of the state is physically separated from the main land by water, pretty trippy. The one good thing that did come out of our train ride was we got to meet Nikki, a blonde hair, blue-eyed British girl just winding up her travels in India. We always seem to find those. Once our carriage had emptied out, Rich went and found her in another empty carriage. We all finally got to sleep only to be woken up briefly at 2 a.m. by a group of red-turbaned sadhus. ### Bhuj Introduction Date: February 18th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/bhuj-introduction/ Bhuj, Gujurat, India – We woke up and got Nikki into our compartment, then after being accosted by a milkman and his pack of eight young, blue-vested assistants. We appeased them by letting them look at the maps and pictures in the India book. We arrived in Bhuj later that morning. Bhuj was amazing. It was way off the beaten paths, so it was not overrun with tourists. There were definitely a few Sahibs out there, but the town had the feel that the people were not so dependent on tourists. Every street in this small city was really narrow. No more than three cows wide or two mopeds and one cow, and this was all inside a walled city where until recently they used to lock the city gates at dusk. The streets gave you the feeling you are in a maze. It was the queerest feeling of walking around. There were cows everywhere, and the nice thing was that the shopkeepers did not scream at you as you walked passed. We got a room in the heart of the bazaar. The three of us, Rich, Nikki, and I sharing because there were no other rooms available. We went walking around and I noticed the people were so friendly. This place has not been spoiled by the tourists yet We went wondering around shopping, and we all noticed that how inexpensive things were way out here. There were some really cool tie-dye fabrics, each with intricate designs on them. The man explained that each dot that makes up the pattern is hand tied with thread. An intricate pattern on one of the pieces can take twenty days to tie before the dyeing process could begin. We made our way through the winding streets, but it began to get a little too hot so we retired to the room for a spell and kip. We went out that evening, when the shops had reopened when Nikki mentioned that silver was cheap out here. I stopped to get a price and was told it was 57 rupees for 10 grams. After calculating that was 18 cents a gram, all of us started shopping for silver. We found a narrow side street, and it was lined with silver shops. We went into frenzy, running from shop to shop checking out the stuff and constantly mentioning how cheap the silver was. Each of us found some things we liked, but we were going to save the actual buying for another day. From there, we headed over to the festival grounds to see what was going on, but as there was no visible entertainment, we made our way back to the hotel through the dark winding streets getting ourselves sufficiently lost enough that have to ask directions of every local we passed. ### Festivals, Dancing on Floats & Temples Date: February 19th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/festivals-dancing-on-floats-temples/ Bhuj, Gujurat, India – Up the next morning, when Nikki returned to our room to deliver the following news. Today was Shiva’s Birthday and all the locals would be drinking bhang lassis. We got up and left our hotel at 10:30 a.m. not really knowing what to expect on India’s national bhang lassi day. We exited our hotel, which sits on a quite side street adjacent to the main drag and walked down the street already crowded with the people. The procession honoring Shiva happened to be passing at the exact moment we hit the street. There were camels and oxen pulling carts and floats with the life banned on one and the man pretending to be Shiva on the other. There were crowds of people dancing in the street between the carts and each person held a set of sticks they would bang together while they were dancing. Yet at third cart had a man with an orange turban standing on it and holding a mic, dancing and singing in time with the band. As his cart passed, he spotted the three lone white faces in the mist of the sea of brown, me, Rich, and Nikki. Somehow, we ended up being the only white people at this festival. Once again, the second the man with the mic spotted us, he pointed at us to bring us to the attention of the people dancing in the street. They started yelling at us, inviting us to dance in the street with them. The man with the orange turban then pointed at Rich and gestured for him to get up on to the cart with him. The crowd helped move Rich away as Nikki and I duct into an alcove to see what was going to happen. They put Rich up there and thrust the mic into his hand telling him to sing. He was trying to hand the mic back to the orange turbaned man telling him he wasn’t going to sing. Nikki and I started following Rich’s cart down the street when they decided that I needed to be up on the cart with Rich. They had me get on the cart and handed me two sets of sticks for us to bang together as we danced atop this cart above the crowd. I looked back and could see Nikki perched in a doorway laughing at the two of us. After a while, we climbed down off the cart but I guess holding asset of banging sticks does not exempt you from joining in the celebration. They made us dance down the street with them banging away. I was moved in front of the cart and put in one of rows of people dancing. The object was to dance down the street banging your sticks together twice, then stopping and banging the stick of the person in the row opposite. I danced down the street until I noticed the procession turning with another alley just going straight. We danced along and as the procession turned, we continued straight on dancing our way down the quite alley, effectively removing ourselves from the festivities. Rich had lost his banging stick sometime earlier, but I was still holding mine as we made our way through the narrow streets away from the procession. Some Indian boys were running down the street towards the festival and stopped me jabbering away in Gujarati pointing at the sticks and then to the procession. I said, “You want the sticks, here you are”, handing them over, the boy running off banging the sticks together. We went to a restaurant and sat there having breakfast reflecting on our festival experience. Yes, it was that overwhelming feeling of fame again and as it takes a lot out of you, all of us decided a nice scotch would go down well, as Nikki put it. We took refuge in an chai house just stunned from our experience. After breakfast, we walked through a section of the city we had not seen yet. When we came across the Swami Viarayan Temple, hard to miss, as it is easily the most colorfully painted building I had seen in Bhuj, let alone all of India. The building was painted white but all the windows, doors, and facets all over the structure were painted with the most brilliant colors I had ever seen. The building was so pleasing to the eyes with using colors that I think even Disney could not come up with. The entire structure was covered in color, so we had to stop and take tons of photographs of everything. After sitting and staring at the building for a while, we made our way back to the festival area to look for some more things to buy when I spotted a stall run by those men who make knives. I walked over there and spotted two swords with a matching sheath glittering in the sun just screaming to be purchased. Of all the things I had seen so far, these items were the first ones that I decided I really could not live without plus there is this feeling of power you get when you pull a sword out of a sheath. I did not know what I was going to do with them at home. They are hanging them from the wall but I needed them. I had originally spotted them the night before, so I had come prepared with the lot of cash, ready to haggle away. I asked how much the set was but being that the craftsmen did not speak any English, one of the local military men came over and acted as my translator. Their opening price was 700 for the set, and after much discussion, the price was reduced to 600, final offer and not negotiable. Okay 600, 250 for each sword and 100 for the shield. I consented and walked away armed and ready to impale any uppity rickshaw drivers with my new purchase. It was getting really hot and most shops were closed in honor of Shiva’s birthday, so we retired to our room for a quick nap. We got up later and headed over to the festival grounds that evening for we had heard there was to be some dancing that evening. There was a crowd already forming, so we took a seat on the ground and watched. The program was to be bands and dancing from the state of Uttar Pradesh, Gujarat, and Rajasthan. It was great entertainment and we knew it was real Indian culture not just put on for tours because we were three of about five sahibs in the entire crowd, everyone else was native and enjoying it just as much as we were. The best dancing was from Uttar Pradesh. The costumes and masks were so ornate and very well made and with their dancing entourage of 25, they acted out a story about the hunting and caging of a lion. The imagery was stupendous. The way the men surrounded the lion, symbolizing bars and things like that. After the dancing, Nikki and I got sufficiently lost again in the dark streets of Bhuj while returning to our hotel. ### Indian Wealth: How to Cook on a Moving Traing Date: February 20th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/indian-wealth-how-to-cook-on-a-moving-traing/ Bhuj, Gujurat, India – Up at a reasonable hour and immediately took my swords to the tailor to have him sew me a bag so I could cart the damn things around with me (they were way too big for my pack). Once that was finished I met Rich and Nicky and we headed over to the ‘silver street’ to purchase some cheap precious metal. I ended up getting two silver boxes, one with the design of an Indian elephant colourfully enameled on the lid, for Rs500 (US$18) – this place was expensive, we were paying Rs58 (US$1.90) a gram. The silver shops closed during the heat of the day so we rested in the courtyard of our hotel for the afternoon until they re-opened. Rich and I went for a walk through the backstreets where no tourists ever went. Everyone we met was so friendly, I think because they didn’t see that many Westerners. The locals had painted the city in the most brilliant colours. The streets were amazing, sometimes entire streets painted in one shade of a pastel colour, a different one for each street. We stumbled upon a few brilliantly painted temples, each better than the last one we saw. We eventually made our way back to the hotel to find Nicky and head to the train station. We were headed to Udiapur, via Palanpur through the state of Rajasthan. The three of us bit the jovial hotelier farewell and he walked us to the door and waved us off as we packed ourselves, luggage and all into a rickshaw. Now three people sans baggage is a squeeze. Three people and their backpacks is almost overloading the petite little motorized vehicle. Our driver was insane and swerved so closely to a few cows that Rich was able to touch them as we passed. It was a hellacious drive to the station, coming within inches of hitting most cows and almost all pedestrians. Boarded our train, had a wee smoke then vegged out in the compartment. The train was packed and we ended up sharing our compartment with two Indian men who said they were escorting six older women to Mount Abu (an Indian honeymoon resort with an amazing marble Jain temple). The women were in the next compartment over and after taking a quick peek saw they were all over 50 years old, and judging by their excess body matter they were well fed – indicating wealth (because you’ve got enough money to eat that way to get fat). The train pulled away and shortly thereafter the smaller, skinny Indian man in our compartment began to rummage around under his seat, pulling out a couple of pots which he placed on the seat his butt had just been warming. The larger chubby man seemed to be telling the skinny man (dubbed Laurel) what to do. Rich, Nicky, and I watched in awe as Laurel opened up one of the pots and pulled out a few peeled potatoes. He proceeded to mash them up, then add other ingredients that had been pre-chopped and stored in a third pot. He made this potato dish with a yellow curry sauce. We couldn’t believe it – the man across from us was cooking on the train. And making koftas at that! He rummaged around under the seat some more and pulled out a stack of plates and a pot of cooked rice. He dished up two servings of his culinary creation then headed off sown the aisle towards the women I’d seen earlier. That’s when it hit me – this man was the women’s personal cook and the chubbier Indian man in our compartment (Hardy) was their porter, for he dealt with the luggage and showed the train conductor the women’s tickets. Unbelievable. Nicky just could not believe this was going on across from her – great expressions. After the women had been served and finished their meal the cook brought back the dirty plates and rushed off to the loo to wash them with a huge bottle of water he’d brought with them. After witnessing this pseudo-cooking show we were wondering, “Wouldn’t it be easier to eat before getting on the train?” In our Western minds, yes, it would be, but to them, we hypothesized, eating on the train like that – with the cook and all – would give them (the well-to-do) another opportunity to flaunt their wealth, Having a cook cook for you on the train (one commodity item – the servant) along with the fact you were being served good food (the food being commodity item number two) other people would see how much food you got to consume, thereby showing your status. Once the dinner was over we all climbed into our bunks, and watching Laurel and Hardy showed me some insight into their class system. The cook (the lowest class member in our control group) had to sleep on the lowest bunk with the porter above him (from a higher class). The cook had to sleep with a suitcase, taking up a quarter of the room on his bunk, but he could still recline his feet up on top of it. The porter has his own bag as well, but he’d decided his bunk wasn’t too comfortable with his suitcase taking up so much space – the bunk would be much more comfortable with the suitcase on the cook’s bunk. At that he passed it down to the cook and made him sleep with it. With this new object added to the already cramped personal space in his bunk the cook could no longer stretch his legs out so he resigned to curling himself up tight into a fetal position so his body would fit on the bunk with the luggage. Since he was the lowest member of the caste with the group he was traveling with he ended up with all the hardship. At least his way was being paid and he was employed, two things that are hard to come by in India for the locals. Laurel and Hardy were all snuggled up in their beds as were Nicky Rich and I, but there was still one empty bunk above me that needed to be filled before we could go to sleep. Otherwise we’d just be woken by the noise they’d make moving in. Our train made it’s first stop where the occupants of the empty bunk arrived. This man came in and laid out a long bedroll across the top bunk. (I was laying in my bunk watching things being passed up and down past my bunk by the man and his children.) The only thing about the bedroll it that it was so thick it took up almost half of the space from the bunk up to the ceiling. The man’s twelve year old daughter came in and climbed up there, then to my surprise the father (a very large man) followed her up. Out of curiosity to see how one contorts one’s body to fit two to a bunk I leaned out and looked up. All I could see was the bulk of the father’s torso precariously balanced on the edge of the bunk; almost ready to tip the wrong direction and send the man to the floor by way of a near fatal back dive. I couldn’t believe the two of them were going to actually sleep up there, but this was India, so anything’s possible. ### Journey to Udaipur & Those Curious White People Date: February 21st, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/journey-to-udaipur-those-curious-white-people/ Palanpur to Udaipur, India – We woke up the next morning stiff from the cold. We weren’t prepared for a cold night so all we slept under were our sleeping sheets and when we woke up we could see our breath inside the compartment. It was definitely the coldest weather we’d experienced since leaving Europe. Arrived at Palanpur and 9:30 a.m. and walked over to the bus station with Nicky and Neil another British dude we’d met on the train, also headed to Udiapur. Apparently not many Westerners make it to Palanpur because the minute we entered the bus station and had put down our stuff there was a crowd of people surrounding us – easily three people deep. People were standing on the neighbouring benches to get a better view of the white people and see what they were doing. The people just sat there and stared at us like zoo animals, so we began acting like animals. Rich juggled a bit (more for his entertainment than theirs I gather) and when Neil reached into his bag to get out his water bottle the crowd leaned closer, all trying to get a view of what magical Western item the sahib was pulling out. When Neil pulled out the bottle he held it up over his head like an orb and screamed, “Water! The elixir of life!” He then lowered the canteen piously, opened it, and took a sip as though its contents had been blessed by the Pope himself. The locals just watched in amazement not knowing what to think. We had an hour to kill so the four of us just sat around talking to each other while a crowd of 50 looked on . Our bus arrived and after securing a seat with my swords we said good-bye to Nicky (who was headed to Jaisalmer) by giving her a kiss on each cheek. As our bus pulled away I was just hoping the locals wouldn’t try to get a kiss from her as well – as she’d just kissed us in public. Our bus driver floored the gas pedal and we arrived in beautiful downtown Himetnagar around lunch time. At the Himetnagar bus station we were once again the center of attention with a small crowd following us everywhere we went. Absolutely no one in this bus station spoke any English (interesting because the Indians all know a little English since they use the language to communicate with each other from different states) so I got to play charades with the station attendant (using my map of India as a prop) to try to find out which platform the bus to Udiapur was leaving from. After a nice long game of charades it was sorted and time for us to eat some lunch. This was your basic bus station restaurant – big and absolutely packed to the brim with locals eating their own lunches. We ordered a bunch of vegetable dishes then waited around for our food. Once it arrived I noticed they’d forgotten to bring us yogurt (to kill the heat) but it shouldn’t matter too much. Rich and I have been traveling around India for quite some time now and are pretty used to all levels of spicy food. I took a bite of this Alu Gobi and the spices emanating from those potatoes were nothing like I’d ever eaten. I can honestly say that no where on the planet have I ever tasted such hot food. I’d learned that the initial heat eventually wears off (or numbs your mouth enough) so you can eat, but this dish just didn’t stop. I even took a sip of the Indian tap water on the table in an attempt to kill the pain. It got to the point where I got up and went over to the kitchen door to get some curd. Now after nine weeks you would have though I’d remember the Hindi word for curd since we asked for it all the time – not this time. I couldn’t remember it for the life of me so I made motions like my face was burning off and the waiter finally got the hint and brought some out for me which I devoured and rubbed on my burning lips. I took the curd back to the table and Rich and Neil each had their share of the salvation as well. We were pretty hungry, so we managed to take alternating bites of our meals and the yogurt to slowly make our way through lunch. After lunch we meandered out on the platform, the bus arrived, we strapped our bags onto the roof and we were off towards Udiapur. The only problem was there were roadworks for more than three quarters of the way to Udiapur, so instead of nice tar sealed roads we got gravel and dirt causing everyone inside the bus to be tossed around. The shaking got so bad that this became a Class 5 typical African bus ride – and those conditions are really hard to duplicate. Neil put a rip in his pants from being tossed around so much and Rich & I felt like our internal organs had been rearranged by the time we arrived in Udiapur at 7:00 p.m. that evening. We said good-bye to Neil and headed over to the Lake Star hotel just outside the main downtown section of town. We got a brilliant room facing the lake; one side faced the Lake Palace Hotel, lit up sitting on its island in the middle of the lake, and the other direction looking out over the water to the City Palace in the middle of the old fortress. As we were heading out to dinner we met this woman, Karen of the UK who had the room next to ours. She seemed like a nice person at first glance and before we could react she had invited herself to come to dinner with us. Little did we know she was one of the charter members of the space cadet club. We were walking along when she asked if we did opium during our longer train journeys. The conversation went something like this: “Do you take opium on a train Journey?” asked Karen. “No,” said Rich to which Karen responded “Oh! I never go anywhere without it.” Great, a junkie for dinner – wonderful. All she did was talk all through dinner, blather pouring all over the table. I don’t really remember saying much, not that there was much opportunity to speak anyway. Dinner finally ended and we walked back to the hotel where Karen finally left us. We vowed to try to avoid her as much as possible from now on. ### A Day in Udaipur Date: February 22nd, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/a-day-in-udaipur/ Udaipur, Rajasthan, India – We were up relatively early and as we were walking though town we were befriended by a ten year old boy. Now when I say befriended we didn’t befriend him – he latched onto us and followed us around all morning offering to take us to his art school. The kid had a great personality – good fun to talk to, plus he spoke about five different languages, including Japanese (most likely as a result of the high tourist visitation rate to Udiapur). We finally consented to go see the art school where they were painting the miniature paintings Udiapur is know for. After he showed us around the inevitable occurred; we were offered a few select paintings to purchase. No way – hence the lad’s motives. When we exited the school without buying anything we also exited sans young school boy. Udiapur is a city that thrives on tourism so everyone – shop keepers, hoteliers, etc. are all very forward – screaming at you to come into their shop and but their stuff. It got to the point where it was so obnoxious that I was screaming back at the shopkeepers if they bitched when I’d just look and not buy anything. I did manage to price the silver box I’d gotten in Bhuj for Rs250. Udiapur price – Rs600. Tie dyed fabric for Sarah, Bhuj price – Rs50. Udiapur price – Rs175. We made our way to the City Palace in the centre of town and after walking around this marginally impressive building Rich and I left the downtown area and walked to the Saheliyon ki Bari, which is a beautiful set of gardens with fountains interspersed throughout the grounds. It turns out this used to be the place the maharastra would entertain his maids of honour. The place did exude the feeling of the type of place you’d have a black tie Debutante party. En route back to the city we got to see one of the rickshaws dropping off little girls off at their homes after school. Now a rickshaw only holds three people in the back and maybe one up front in a pinch. Add any backpacks and you’ve reached max density. The rickshaw I spotted had no less than twenty five school shoulder bags strapped in a fan-like fashion to the outside rear of the vehicle. That means that the corresponding number of little Indian girls should be inside that rickshaw. Unbelievable – the kids were absolutely packed inside the thing and when it stopped to drop them off a small child would pop out of the rickshaw, partially of their own accord and partially by the release of pressure from the inside. The girl grabbed her bag off the back and headed inside as the rickshaw sped down the street. This could have something to do with the reason Indians have no concept of personal space – they experience the sardine can effect early on so it doesn’t bother them. We walked around the city some more and ended our walking tour at the boat jetty for our tour around the lake. Our boat pulled away and we got to view the city from the water (not much change). The boat banked to the port side and we were circling the opulent Lake Palace Hotel, which sits on its own at the centre of the lake. Boring. The boat continued its turn and after glancing at the Udiapur City Palace our tour ended. I think I’ve lost interest in Udiapur for the moment. ### A Day in Jodhpur Date: February 24th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/a-day-in-jodhpur/ Ranakpur to Jodhpur, Rajasthan, India – We woke up and walked outside to admire the temple and take yet more photographs before embarking on our journey to Jodhpur. We checked out of our room and when Rich asked the clerk how much the room was, his response was “As you please.” Rich noticed (from the open receipt book) that other Indians were paying Rs2, se he decided to give them Rs20 for the room. Bonus plan. We jumped on the first bus through, and of course there was no direct bus to Jodhpur, but one to Pali. ironically our driver hadn’t been smoking crack or using other hard drugs because he took the long winding mountain road at a measured, safe speed – unlike any other Indian bus ride we’d been on. Hit Pali and changed to bus No. 2 to Jodhpur, dropping us off at our destination in the early afternoon. Upon our arrival we headed straight to the train station to get a ticket for that evening’s night train to Jaisalmer, and to dump our packs for a while. Got the ticket and as we passed the main post office wen route to the main terminus I shipped off my swords and shield with absolutely no problem at all. We were both amazed that we had managed to buy a train ticket AND drop a package off at the post office in the same day. Usually each even takes an entire half day. We figured we’d set a new world record if we managed to get an international phone call to go through as well! Why go to Jodhpur for a total of five hours you ask? The draw here is the Fort Meherangarh, one of the largest in India. We grabbed a rickshaw to go up the huge hill to the fort, paid our thirty rupees and got our tour from 4:00 to 5:00 p.m., just in time before it closed. The fort is huge, but the tour was just so-so because they only show you like, 1% of the structure. After our tour we headed down to the main bazaar, admiring the latticework on a lot of the buildings in the city. We wandered for a bit until we came upon this huge cinema, and what do you know, the film was just about to start. The film was a Hindi film called Aee Hi Aee (a.k.a. Fire with Fire). The movie placard had a painting of three men with guns so it had to be a really violent movie with minimal bad acting. The movie wasn’t that bad – the plot (or rather the bit I figured out) too boring to print here, but to give you an idea, this was the first Hindi or Tamil epic we’d seen where we weren’t so bored with it by intermission that we actually sat through the entire thing! (This was like a major event for us.) After our movie we headed for the station to board our train. There were rows of military men outside, guarding the station due to the BJP rally in Delhi the next day. Should be interesting to see in anything happens out in Jaisalmer tomorrow. ### Jaisalmer: The Gem of Rajasthan Date: February 25th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/jaisalmer-the-gem-of-rajasthan/ Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India – Our train arrived this morning where we grabbed a free jeep-cab for a ride to the gates of the fort; we were headed for a hotel actually inside the fort at the centre of town. We entered the fort and all of a sudden this feeling of being taken back through time came over me as I passed through the first set of gates and viewed the palace atop the fortified wall. Our path curved and passed through the next set of gates and we entered the main square, headed across it and down one of the smaller side streets. These “streets” weren’t more than two people wide in some places, and each house had a balcony of some sort looking out over the street. I actually felt like I had stepped into a true to life fortress city right out of Tales of the Arabian Nights. We found a room in a hotel inside the fort, dumped our stuff, then exited the fort and walked through the outlying city looking for food. The city around the fort is just as quaint as the streets inside, but they’re all a bit wider and a bit more modern. Those houses with balconies also had the most intricately carved designs in them, just like most of the buildings inside the fort. After our breakfast we headed back into the fort to explore a bit. We found out that the buildings with the ornately carved sandstone balconies we’d been seeing everywhere are called havelis. The havelis are small ornately carved mansion houses built by the wealthy merchants of Jaisalmer. Jaisalmer used to be the centre of the trade route from India to Western Asia and Pakistan from China, but with the partitioning and the Pakistani border being closed the city has begun to turn towards tourism to boost its wealth. That said, Jaisalmer is definitely one of the more relaxed cities in India with none of the merchants acting as touts screaming at you to come in their shops. Everyone is very mellow. Rich and I made it into the fort, and as we made the second turn through the gates the sounds of a turbaned beggar playing a traditional stringed instrument wafted into my ears. the music made the moment and I felt once again like I’d been teleported back through time. Our current hotel was a bit too expensive so we were looking at various other hotels as we walked through the streets. [Mention how the proprietor got milk-tie cow’s back legs together to get milk] One thing we admired was that the inhabitants of the fort had devised a very ingenious and efficient sewage/drainage system which looked like a rain gutter on your house, only their was set into the ground next to the stone sidewalk. We came upon the Hotel Sujrat, just down the path from the Paradise Hotel and through the tunnel at the Jain temple, where we enquired about a room. The hotel is one of the old havelis and the proprietor told us he had only four rooms to rent, then he led us up to the first floor. He said the room overlooking the street (with one of those rad carved balconies) would be free the next day, but he had this other room until then. He pushed open the double wooden doors and we entered a long hallway that led to the main sitting room of this suite. Windows looked out onto the havelis small courtyard and since there was no electricity we’d be placing candles on specially constructed candle holders in the walls around the room. The sitting room had chairs and a table and your standard twelve foot cathedral ceilings. he led us to a door off the sitting room and showed us this enormous bedroom. Down yet another hallway was the bathroom and as I was running around the room looking at everything the proprietor was opening all the shutters, letting the light in so we could appreciate the enormity of the room. This room would cost us Rs400 a night, but the one across the hall was the gem of the place. The proprietor said it wouldn’t be free until the next day and it was Rs500 (US$18) a night. These rooms were borderline opulent, but we decided not to stay in any nice room until we’d returned from our desert camel trek. The front room in this hotel had a balcony to sit on, along with two other windows that jutted out over the street like a sitting box. The room was immense, but set up more like a studio with a mosquito net covered bed on one side of the room and a small row of columns running through the centre of the room. (The room was big enough to have decorative columns!) There was a hammock strung between two columns, and there were intricately painted designs over the arches and down each of the columns – it was so nice. But since this Rs500 room wasn’t available we told the proprietor we’d return in a few days to find out availability. We exited and resumed our explorations through the fort. As we were walking I heard this “Oi! Oi!” being screamed behind us and when we turned around who should be running down the footpath but Nicky (our British friend from Bhuj), he blonde hair waving wildly in her wind. After hugs and hellos we found out she’d been in Jaisalmer a couple of days and was booked on a four day camel safari leaving the next morning. We talked about it for a while and Rich decided he’d go on the four day safari the next morning with my joining them out in the desert later, making mine a two and a half day camel trek. Little did we know, but Jaisalmer is the equivalent of India’s version of Amsterdam, with government licensed bhang (ganga) stores selling everything from bhang lassies to bhang cookies. We each ate a cookie then sat at the outdoor chai shop in the main square just outside the fort gates watching the world go by. The thing about Jaisalmer is that the tourists don’t seem to have affected the local culture; the men still run around in their jodhpur pants and brightly coloured turbans. Did you know that it takes up to ten metres of material to make a decent turban? Neither did I. We ate at a local restaurant (which happened to have BBC Asia and MTV Asia beamed in by satellite) where I saw on the news that there were a couple of problems in Delhi with the BJP rally. There were just a few small riots with the police using water cannons and tear gas to disperse the crowds, while placing the leader of the BJP party under arrest as well. Nothing to worry about – move along. (Right!) Times Magazine, 8 th March 1993 TITLE: Defending Delhi The BJP distributed 500,000 leaflets urging demonstrators not to resist arrest or fight the government troops. The discipline of the BJP stood in sharp contrast to the chaos last December when fanatical Hindu kar sewaks holy workers defied to the Government Supreme Court injunctions and their own leaders in tearing apart the 16 th century Babri mosque in the North Indian town of Ayodhaya. That action on a site that Hindus believed to be the birthplace of their warrior God Rama unleashed a wave of religious rioting across the Indian subcontinent that left more than 2000 dead. It was on the basis of that violence that Indian home minister S. B. Chavan was able to declare the planned February 25 th protest inherently dangerous and ban it. ### Jaisalmer Music Man Date: February 26th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/jaisalmer-music-man/ Indian Express 26. February.93 — Headline: Lathis, gas, and water cannon foiled BJP rally. Article text: Scores were injured in pitched battles on the streets with security men firing rubber bullets, raining lathis, and repeatingly tear gasing people in different parts of the capital.” Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India – Rich got up at 6 o’clock this morning to call America and when he returned, I was told that the Delhi riots were front page news in the states. I got up and Rich packed for his imminent departure on the camel safari while I went and checked into another hotel for that evening. Rich left for his safari leaving me to wander the streets of Jaisalmer on my own for the day. I made it back to the fort to have a look at a 500-rupee room and tell them when we would be returning. Then I meandered over to one of the bastions and sat atop looking out over the city and writing. The view was fantastic. You got to look out across a sea of boxy sandstone buildings – the entire view giving you the feeling that no part of the city was planned. It was just built haphazardly. The view finally got the better of me and I exited the fort and went walking through the honeycombed mapped streets of Jaisalmer admiring each ornately carved balconies I passed. I wandered for about an hour until I hit the outskirts of town. The buildings were set farther apart and people were even parking their camels on the sidewalks outside their homes. I headed towards the tallest nearby hill assuming it to be the fort but when I climbed the steps to the summit, I was rewarded with the most amazing site. I could see the box-shaped sandstone buildings of city surrounding the base of a huge plateau. Above them, rising majestically out of the sea of disarray, set the fort atop its plateau. This was the first time, I stepped back and looked to the fort and it was amazing and incredibly imposing all at the same time. The fort towers over the city and is the one the most impressive sites I have seen in India. Amazing. I walked to the kilometer or so back to the base of the fort and sat in the chai shop resting from my sojurn . As I was sitting there this man came and sat near me playing the “ratta-ta”. This instrument sounds exactly like that you’d expect to here in the book A Tale of Arabian Nights – no joke. It’s small, like a violin, a coconut shell at one end with a full set of metal strings going up a stick in the middle – each perfectly tuned. The bow looks like an archer’s bow and attached to the top of the arc are a bunch of bells which are jangled in time with the song being played. The music is soothing, not high pitched and piercing like most traditional Indian music. The music man sat near me playing away and after a while I started chatting to him and buying him tea. After about 3 hours of our tea drinking, talking, and his playing, he asked me if, I would like to go to his house that evening to have dinner, meet his wife, and rehearsing what he played. As Rich was in the desert and I had nothing else to do, I agreed. I met Hari the music man’s name, at 6 p.m. and we walked through town to the outskirts to where he lived. We walked out the Fort gate to pass the markets through this wasteland to a rather deserted section of town where a mini city consisting of rudimentary made tents sat. Hari let me to one of the tents, pulled out a thin mattress for us to sit on and began to make a fire. This was his house, a quilt balanced on two poles opened at each end. He had three children, two daughters aged to 5 and 3 and one three-month-old son. Upon our arrival the two little girls came running out of the tent to greet their father; amazing, this was the way they lived. When we arrived at his house, he was surprised his wife was not there. But he explained that they were filming a movie out in the desert and his wife had been chosen to be an extra in the film. Hence, she wasn’t done with the days shooting yet. We had tea and Hari’s brother and another friend came over and joined us. Hari is the teacher who teaches the others how to play and actually construct these instruments. Both his brother and friend said Hari was the best player and after hearing all three of them play I agreed. Hari pulled out his file of photographs and letters that people had sent him many who had visited his home. As soon as the sun had set, I sat there listening to Hari and his brother play for quite some time chatting to them whole time. After spending a couple of hours with Hari and his family, I thanked them for the evening bid them farewell, heading back to my room to sleep. I was leaving on my camel safari the next morning. I did talk to Hari about his possibility playing in our 500 rupee room, provided we could get it when we return from our safari. ### Rendezvous on the Camel Safari Date: February 27th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/rendezvous-on-the-camel-safari/ Camel Safari, Jaisalmer Desert, India – I packed my bag pack and after buying the essentials for a desert camel safari: water, oranges, pot cookies and chocolate. I met the jeep driver and was off. I was in a jeep heading out through the desert to intercept and link up with the safari. Rich and Nikki were already on. The driver was this old man with turbaned head and my courier was much younger, about 35. As we were zipping along the courier slid his foot over and took control of the gas paddle followed by his sliding behind to the steering wheel, pushing the original driver who turned out to be his father almost out of the jeep. The father was balancing himself on the jeep’s platform on the outside of the vehicle while his son was zipping along the desert highway. The son told me he was learning to drive and my rendezvous was doubling as an opportunity for one of his driving license. I asked how long he been driving and when he responded 10 days, I calmly reached forward for the handgrip and took to a mighty hold. A passenger with an Indian student driver, God help me. He was not that bad. The road had about as many turns in it as the straight Interstate 5 in California and he only managed to run one rickshaw completely off the road into the sand before we came upon the road works necessitating the father to take over because it would have been too difficult avoiding the members of the chain gang paving the road. Indian chain gangs road workers are funny things. They are usually all women. The men get the hard jobs like driving rickshaws and the women get heavy-duty construction and road repair. These women were dressed to the nines in their brightly colored silk sarees, the ideal attire for repaving a road and each of them had a large bowl balanced on their heads, each shuttling these huge granite rocks from one side of the road to the other. I know I could not lift up one of those bowls and how they lift them up and down of their heads without messing up their silk sarees, I will never know. We played the live version of the old video game Frogger when we hit open road again, so the student driver got a second chance to practice. They stopped the jeep a short while later where I spotted alone camel with its dark-skinned turbaned camel driver leading it towards the road. They told me that that was my camel and that I would ride the rest of the way to meet Nikki and Rich. We were in the middle of the dessert wasteland and I must have asked my courier half a dozen times he was sure. Nikki and Rich were going to be out there to meet me. He agreed with me each time I asked and at that he jumped in the jeep and drove off towards Jaisalmer grinding the gears as he went. I went and met my camel driver who got me up on the camel and we rode one hour to the set of isolated sand dunes. I was the only person standing on them and I could see nothing in any direction, say if another camel safari. I sat on the dune and after 15 minut, my camel jockey pointed off into the distance and I spotted there camels making their wave to our dune. When they got close enough, Rich called to me, “Brad what are you doing here?” How they coordinated this one is beyond me was my response. Everyone arrived and as the sun was setting, the drivers began to prepare our dinner of the immortal words of my camel jockey, chapati , vegetable, chai . Little did I know the potato, cauliflower and chapatis would be all we would be eating for every meal. Rich, Nikki, and I grabbed some blankets. Once the sun had gone down, I got ready for bed. The one thing about the dessert is it is so cold like mountainous winter cold at night. Sleeping that evening was not easy as the blanket was too thin and you absolutely had to pull it over your head because it was too cold to have your head out from under the blanket. The three of us just slept sporadically, talking to each other every hour or so, because it was simply too cold. ### Camping in the Desert & Losing Rich Date: February 28th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/camping-in-the-desert-losing-rich/ Camel Safari, Jaisalmer Desert, India – We woke up as the sun rose not like we were not already up but it was too cold to come out from under the blanket, so we just sat there talking to each other while the driver started the fire to make chai . A half-hour later chai was served to us in our bed followed by a breakfast of toast and eggs. We were on another one of those colonial sahib tours of the dessert where we did not have to lift a finger. We finally got up, got on our camels and started a morning ride. Now camels do smell and yes they make your inner thighs hurt if you are not used to them. After two hours of riding, we came upon this deserted city that the camel jockeys or drivers told us to go and have a look at while they prepared lunch. We walked around this city, more village in the hot sun and after about 10 minutes, it was too hot to tolerate, so Nikki and I went back to our camp. In the process of walking around the city, we managed to lose Rich but we just figured, he will make his way back to the camp. 20 minutes or so passed when one of the jockeys asked where he was and I jokingly responded that we had lost him in the city. After another 10 minutes, the driver was a bit concerned, so he told me to go back to the city and try to find him. I grabbed the bottle of water in case he was parched and started walking back towards the city. Upon my arrival at the city, I just started singing every University of California song at the top of my voice thinking he would hear me and find me. After 10 minutes of walking around singing, I spotted him coming towards me from the other side of the city. It turns out no one had told him we would move camp after they dropped us off and we headed to the city. We walked back to camp and after a short nap in the shade during the heat of the day, we set off on our camels again to our next camp site. A few hours later, we set up a camp between two sand dunes to avoid the wind and after out chapati and vegetable dinner, we laid out under the stars again watching them pass above us slowly. Tonight was nowhere near as cold as the evening previous but we were still sleeping with our jeans and boots on. ### Back from Safari Date: March 1st, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/back-from-safari/ Camel Safari, Outside Jaisalmer, India – March, How did that happen! Have we really been traveling that long! A bit dawn and breakfast in bed again before getting ready for the morning ride to the next village. As we were getting up on our camels, Nikki has got a little upset and started making all of this noise and promptly turned its head around and threw up on her back pack which was strapped to the saddle. We wiped down the pack but needless to say, Nikki was less than pleased about the whole thing. During a ride to the next village, I was chatting to my camel jockey because he only knew about 10 words of English. We did not get very far with our discussion. He pointed ahead of us and said to village, rest, chapati , vegetables. He pointed to a house in a distance, house. Yes, that is a house. Is that your house I asked. Village, chapati, vegetables. I then asked him how many people lived in the village. Yes, village, rest, chapati , vegetables he responded with my timing in saying vegetable at the appropriate time. We reached a well to water the camels and my driver asked me what the well was called in English. Camel petrol station was my answer. May as well have him learn some complicated words. We rested and guess what, we had chapattis , vegetables, and tea for lunch before embarking on the last day of our safari. We were headed back to Jaisalmer. I guess we were running late or something, but we galloped most of the way back. Now it you not used to galloping on a camel and you do not know how to sit properly, you end up coming down on your gonads with each step of the camel. Let say, I quickly learned how to sit properly on the camel saddle during our return journey. Upon our return to the golden city, we got a cheap 30-rupee room at the Green Hotel and cleaned ourselves up. We were tired and smelled of camel. After getting cleaned up, I went to the fort with Nikki to see if a 500-rupee room was available. Unfortunately, it was not. My plans were spurlging on spending $18 shattered. We ended up just sitting in the main sitting square drinking ginger chai and chatting to Hari, the music man. All of us literally exhausted from our safari. Rich and I decided there was no reason for us to go to Delhi, so I ranged my parents that night for the latest California update. Evidently, the eight-year drought is over with a 30 foot snow pack up in the mountains, cool. ### DIY Restaurant – Indian Style Date: March 2nd, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/diy-restaurant-indian-style/ Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India – We met Nikki and headed into the city to get some breakfast. Our restaurant of choice was on the roof of this building overlooking once of the streets with a blank head balanced on two poles serving as our roof. So pleasant in the morning sun, so we sat up there and ate and read the papers for a while. Nikki and Rich went to the bank, so I sat in the chai shop talking to the men who makes tea who I had befriended a few days before. Rich found me and we went walking through the city and eventually found one of the larger havelis which was opened to the public, so we had to wander through this large mansion. When we exited the haveli, I looked across the street where I spotted this Indian man wearing yellow turban, a traditional coat, yellow in color to match and dark sunglasses. One close-up look at the man in the yellow turban confirmed my thoughts. So I turned to Rich and said, “There he is; who, the man with a longest moustache in the world.” The school teacher reconfirmed what I had just told Rich and explained to us that this man’s father was the world record holder but he had his throat slit by Pakistani terrorists, so this man now hold the record for the world’s longest moustache. He was a funny-looking Indian with his four feet long moustache all curled up in a huge circle, one on each side of his nose. We asked him if we could have a photo with his moustache unrolled and he said it would cost 25 rupees. We gave him 20 rupees and he grabbed each end of his moustache and stretched it out. Rich stood next to him and I snapped a photo but the second I had taken the photo, he let go off each end of moustache and sprung back into its rolled up position. He had put wire in his moustache for easier maintenance. We walked around some more and eventually met Nikki for some dinner. Little did we know that this would be a real third world restaurant. The restaurant was almost full when we arrived, but no one appeared to be eating. We ordered and began the standard one and half hours wait for dinner to come. After 90 minutes of waiting, no one in the restaurant had been served yet so when one couple who had been there for over two hours inquired about their order, the workers who did not speak more than 25 words of English could not even confirm this couple had ordered any food. Ten minutes later, they brought out this egg dish and tried to serve it to a different table, but Nikki screamed that it was her food so the waiter jumped and brought the plate to her. The whole serving turned out to be a fiasco. They had cooked the wrong orders and most people did not get any food. Chapatis were being passed from table to table, so Nikki intercepted one of them because her rice did not arrive. After it was all over, Nikki was the only person out of about 10 people to get any food, so everyone else got up and walked out as I grabbed the restaurant receipt book and wrote out our bill to ensure we were not charged for anything that we had not received. Your basic DIY (do it yourself) restaurant. ### Rules for a Fast Date: March 3rd, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/rules-for-a-fast/ Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India – Nikki and I went shopping today and we headed back towards the larger havelis to have another look. On this visit, we went up into the roof and noticed we could climb onto the next haveli over the rooftop. We decided it added a sense of adventure, so we went through three other havelis entering each via the roof. There was only one rooftop, which was semi-difficult to maneuver but clinging to the balcony solved that problem. These havelis were beautiful buildings but in such states of disrepair that the birds and bats had all taken up residence in the mansions. Nikki and I did a bit more shopping and I brought a camel leather hat for 155 rupees before returning to our room to pack my stuff for a bus ride to Pushkar that evening. I did stop at the chai shop and say goodbye to Hari and take a photo to send to him. Rich, Nikki, and I vegged in our room for a final smoke. Rich and I were giving it up for a while and did ourselves right for our final final. We set up a few rules during our fast from smoking. One, we cannot go and buy it ourselves. Two, we cannot approach anyone who looks like they definitely have some, hence dreadlocks and hippy clothing. Three, cannot approach anyone with a nose ring. Four, can have if it is offered by other people but not by men only by women. Five, we must fast until May 1 st , no smoking. After this final visit of the jayfay, Nikki escorted to our luxury coach where we bid her farewell. At 4:30m, our coach departed, both of us off our heads as we drove all night towards Pushkar. ### Finding a Hotel Before Dawn in Pushkar Date: March 4th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/finding-a-hotel-before-dawn-in-pushkar/ Pushkar, Rajasthan, India – Our bus pulled into Ajmer station, Pushkar’s sister city at 3:15 a.m., so we piled out and hung around the station until 4:30 a.m., the departure time for the first bus to Pushkar. They announced which bus was going to Pushkar and literally everyone on the station headed for it. Nothing like an early morning workout battling the Indians for a seat on the bus. Arrived in Pushkar at 5:15 a.m. and after walking through the dark streets, we got a room at the Sunrise Hotel just down the road from the chai shop in post office. We rested while the sun came up and I chatted to the guy who owns the hotel. The dude is 20 and he and his father and mother lived in the room below, a real family establishment and the nicest people. Pushkar is a Brahman village, which sits on this small lake. It is water, which is considered holy. Because it is Brahman, no brews, drugs, which are legal in parts of India or eggs are allowed in the city. Brews and drugs I can understand, but eggs. It makes the cakes they serve all over town, a touch dry. They use banana instead. Pushkar is also known for its shopping. Nikki showed us some amazing stuff she brought when she was there. Once the sun was up and we were not as delirious as we were when we arrived, we went for a walk through the main bazaar. There were cows and people on bicycles everywhere in addition to tons of embroidered bed spread bags etc to purchase. As we were walking, this man gave us some flowers to throw into the holy waters of the lake to help our Karma. Of course a Rs.10 donation was asked for which Rs. 1 was received. We wondered through the bazaar to the Brahmin temple, the only one in India, but were less than impressed with it as it was really run down in addition to the fact, I was still having Ranakpur flashbacks. We had walked through the city for a few hours and during our return walk to the hotel to escape the heat of the day, we bumped into Neil, the British man from our hell bus ride from Himatnagar to Udaipur. Funny, how you meet these people here and there as you are travelling. Made it back to the hotel, where I chatted with Jassa, the hotel owner’s 20-year-old son for a while. This family was so nice and they really went out of their way to make your stay as pleasant as possible. We rested in the afternoon and ventured out in the early evening for the first and only, all you can eat dinner we had found in India. The restaurant owners really know how to make some money. Met Neil at dinner and once we were all finished, went to a lakeside café to drink tea and watch the sunset over Pushkar. Pushkar is a total hippie city. Rich and I said numerous things to each other that we both felt like we were back in Berkeley. Only a degree or two stronger, the hippie parents with their children, Jasmine and Moonbeam were definitely all over the city and we even saw Karen, the drug addict, we had met in Udaipur walking down the street. When I spotted her, I went running to Rich telling him to try not to draw attention to himself as she passed. ### Drinking Cow Pee, Then Off to Agra Date: March 6th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/drinking-cow-pee-then-off-to-agra/ 5 th March 1993, Pushkar, India – As there is not a lot to do in Pushkar, but go shopping, that is exactly what I did all the day. When you go into the shops, the merchant requested to take off your shoes before entering. As I had my hiking boots on the day previous, I did not get a chance to go into any shops, so today was the day. Rich and I made our way through the bazaar with me entering every single shop to look at these really, nicely, embroidered bags to give away as gifts. After three hours of our shopping, I returned to the hotel with two embroidered back pack sized bags, Rs. 40 each, 3 embroidered passport-size purses, one at Rs. 10 and two at Rs. 15. We sat around the hotel during the heat and ventured out that evening for another buffet dinner and to shop for used books. 6 th March 1993 Pushkar – For lack of something better to today, we went shopping again, and I bought a waistcoat for Rs. 55. Now I could not wear it without a white button down shirt. So I bought material to have a shirt made as well. Now as the holy festival was in the two days’ time, the celebration where they throw paint everywhere and whatever clothes I wore that day, were going to be ruined. I decided to buy yet more white material and have a shirt made to wear on Holi. On route to the tailor, I saw this local walk up to a white cow, that happened to be urinating, cup his hands under the stream and then drank it. White cows are pure, clean and revered. I had never seen anything like that before and I had a hard time keeping the glass of tea, I just consumed at the chai stall down in my stomach. Later that evening, Rich and I packed our bags and where saying good bye to the family and their hotel when the son Sisha came up onto the sun deck we were standing on and handed his father some strings of flowers. The father then draped the flowers around the Rich and my neck thanking us and wishing us a good journey. They were the nicest people and deserved to have their hotel publicized to have some extra income. We left and went to the bus stop to wait for the overnight bus to Agra. Why we keep taking this hell overnight buses? I will never know, but we really do want to get out of India. ### Seeing the Taj Mahal For the First Time Date: March 7th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/seeing-the-taj-mahal-for-the-first-time/ Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India – Arrived in Agra at 8.15 a.m. and got a rickshaw over to the Shanti Lodge. This is a great hotel, not a two-minute walk from the Taj’s east gate, perfect. We arrived there and instead of running straight to the roof, they have got the most amazing, unobstructed view of the main gate and the Taj from the sun deck. I waited in the lobby. I had wanted to see the Taj ever since I was about 10 years old and now that I was really there, I did not want to see it until I was standing right in front of it. Rich went straight to the roof while I ordered breakfast for two of us. He returned and after looking at the menu, Rich noticed they served “special bhang lassies.” We had been in India long enough to know that special means bhang, so we each ordered one to go along with breakfast plus it would not hurt our first viewing of the Taj Mahal.8.45 a.m. done with breakfast and our bhang lassies, so we headed over to the Taj. I did not look up at the building and actually closed my eyes part of the way, until Rich had me standing directly in front of this most amazing building. I had seen hundreds of photos of this building but absolutely none of them, even the national geographic photographers do this place justice, so beautiful, and so perfect plus the morning we were there, there were not a lot of people, so it was people. Both Rich and I just sat down and stared in ooh! at the Taj. Amazed by the fact that such a beautiful building was built solely as a memorial for the Taj’s wife. We must have gazed at it for an hour then we walked up to it to take a look inside. The closer you got to the building, the more imposing and more beautiful it became. Every aspect of the building is perfect – the inlay work, the stones, and the minarets, everything. We took off our shoes and ascended the steps up onto the marble dais, the Taj sits on. It was so relaxing, walking around sans shoes so peaceful. We entered the building and were met by a self-appointed guide – his self-appointment, not ours – who showed us around the inside. The inside dome is similar to our US capitol building dome in sheer size and the acoustical effects are astounding. The Taj was constructed with perfect echo resonance a trade our guide was not shy to demonstrate to us. He took us to the center and showed us the marble tombs, one for the wife and one for the Taj and with his flashlight, he showed us how translucent the marble and inlay work was. The inlay work consists of precious and semi-precious stones brought in from all over the world, Malachite from Africa, Onyx this solid blue stone, diamonds, since been removed, red and orange stones. The guide placed his flashlight directly onto the inlay work as he moved it across the design, this one of flower. Each pedal of the flower lit up as light moved across, so amazing. Our guide had a stand behind the wife’s tomb and look out the main door – the structure was constructed so everything was perfectly symmetrical in every aspect. So from where I was standing, I could look over the tomb out the door over the fountains in front of the Taj and actually see through the doors of the main gaits, a 100 yards away, one again flawless. We walked around the building a few times, awed by its beauty. Then we moved back down to the fountains and sat admiring it for a few hours. We were definitely banged from our bhang lassie, so after a few hours, we decided to leave and go back to the hotel. Too bad, neither one of us had bothered to take note as to where the hotel was, so we missed the turn and ended up walking down the back streets of Agra. The roads were cobblestoned and as we walked pass residential houses, the children came running out saying hello to us. Past the houses and down the road to see the locals using man-sized scales to weigh out huge bags of rice. Pigs, goats, cows, children running passed us, everyone casting us, questioning and glances as to how we ended up this far into the back streets of Agra. Every preconceived notion I had about the third world was proven true during this enlightening walk. Of course, we were banged, so were getting more and more lost, so we found a rickshaw and paid Rs. 3 to get back to our hotel. The first agreed price was Rs. 5, but he drove us no less than 100 meters so I renegotiated him down to Rs. 3 upon arrival. Up to the hotel roof to admire the view of the Taj and sit in the sun. At about 2 p.m. the full effects of lassie overtook me and I had to go to sleep, slept until 9 p.m., up for dinner then back to sleep. The Holi festival was the next day, so I needed my rest for the celebration. ### Holi – The Colorful Indian Holiday Date: March 8th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/holi-the-colorful-indian-holiday/ Agra, the Holi festival, Uttar Pradesh, India – Woke up at 5 a.m. this morning due to the Holi festival music that has been playing at a deafening volume all night long. I got up at 7:30, put on my white shirt I had made for today’s Holi festival and headed out to check out the Taj by morning sunlight. The Holi festival is a festival held honoring the end of winter and everyone gets into it from about 8:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. everyone runs around splashing brightly colored paints all over everything and everyone and this blonde sahib wearing an unblemished white shirt is the best target around. I left Rich sleeping and headed down the stairs to go to the to the Taj but the doors to the hotel were locked. The hotelier said I should not go outside and when I questioned him, he said, he could not be responsible for anything that happens to me if I left the hotel before 2 o’ clock. I told him it was okay and at that I was let out of side door of the hotel on to the street. The doors to the hotel would stay locked until the festival was over. I walked down to the Taj but because it was so early, people were not celebrating quite yet. The Taj Mahal looked like an entirely different building in the morning sunshine, still as amazing and powerful as ever. I stayed there admiring the beauty of the building for an hour or so before heading back to the hotel to see if Rich was awake and Rich had just gotten up and I gave him the report that the kids outside were armed with spray guns, water bottles, and water balloons, full of paint already. At that we left all passports etc. behind and headed downstairs for a quick breakfast before joining the chaos downstairs. While we were getting ready, one of the guys who worked here in the hotel with a face painted bright purple already started talking to us and we he found that we wanted to go and join the Holi celebration, he took us back into our bathroom and doused us with a bottle of bright purple paint he already mixed. Cool. We were now marked as participants, so everyone could now attack us with paint now that they knew we wanted to play. We left the hotel at 9 a.m. with a Sardar and he let us with the back streets towards his house. These back streets were places we would not have seen without our friend, true local culture and the real Holi celebration. The entire city was celebrating. Most people with various shades of purple, some people would throw colors on you while others squirted us with water pistols filled with paint. What most people did though was take up pinch of colored paint powder out of their pocket and rub it on your forehead followed by three to four hugs, one on each side like a European kiss. This process also ensured any wet paint you had on yourself was smeared on the chest of the person you were hugging. Dhanyawad and a hand shake and then we would move on. I cannot tell you how many people put bright paint on my forehead but once again we were a showpiece. Other times, we would walk into a small crowd of people and an entire bucket of paint would be poured on the whole lot of us. All of these things going on amid music played all over the city over huge loudspeakers. We arrived at Sardar’s house where we sat and met his friends and family. We had to stand in the courtyard, so his mother could douse the three of us with blue paint from her porch up on the roof. We sat around and sardar brought a bottle of whisky out which only went around the small circle of people once. They were drinking the stuff like water. After a small snack, we moved outside his house and met some neighbors, then another bottle of whisky appeared. This one went down faster than the last one. While we were sitting, children and even super old ladies in their sarees came up to us and put paint on our foreheads. We started walking through the narrow streets again and there was paint everywhere. The gutters were all colored purple from the sheer amount of paint coating all the streets and all in them. We came across a group of people dancing, so we had our obligatory dance where the locals got so excited, we were dancing. They started clapping and dancing around us. After the dance, every single person wanted to give us the requisite three hugs but Sardar warded them off of us via his native tongue. It was definitely a good idea having someone who spoke Hindi with us. He went to another friend of Sardar’s house but this gathering looked more formal. It was held in the house’s courtyard and there were many elderly gentleman putting dry paint on each other’s forehead. We were brought in, sat down, and after the paint on the forehead, a tray of cigarettes and bidis were passed around. Chai and snacks offered and politely declined. It was wild. We left the formal party and went splashing colors on people and danced in the streets. Some people would take the paint powder, mix it with a little water in their hands, then run up to smearing their color of choice all over your face. The tricky players in Holi seem to be the wives, all dressed up in their sarees standing on the balconies over the street. They would stand there poised with a basket of paint, throwing it down on the people below. The only thing is you could not get them back due to their strategic position. After another hour of walking, visiting Sardar’s friends and dancing in the streets, Rich and I were getting really tired, so we left sardar and head it back to the hotel, covered head to foot in assorted colors. When we arrived back at the hotel around 11:30 and when we went to the roof, the other travelers in the hotel were pretty surprised we had gone out and braved the festival. Most of them just sat on the roof, being spectators. We also found out that no one went and saw the festival we had seen. The ones who did go out, did it without a local as a guide, so they did not get as much out of it. The clock struck two and poof just like Cinderella’s spell Holi ended. The streets calmed down and people went home to rest. I showered shortly after a return and when I was done, I no longer had purple hair and blue face. The color had been evenly spread all over the floors and walls of our bathroom. Not all of the paint came off as there paints are not totally water soluble but in time with multiple showers, I am sure it will all come off plus I have got a brightly colored button down courtesy of the Holi festival. We get the same festival again in Nepal on the 18 th . Now we know we are in for. ### Fatehpur Sikri & the Collect Phone Call Date: March 9th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/fatehpur-sikri-the-collect-phone-call/ Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India – 6 a.m. this morning, there was a knock at the door, it was Emmy, the girl from Santa Cruz, we have met the evening before, waking me up to see the Taj at sunrise. I got up, Rich could not make it and walked over to the Taj gait at 6.30 a.m. where I found Emmy and her buddy Tina from Santa Barbara waiting to go inside. We went in and saw the Taj surrounded in mist, more mysterious looking then ever. The best part about our early arrival is that we have beaten the tour buses there, so we could take pictures of ourselves in front of this beautiful building with no one around. Back to the hotel to get food and Rich, before the four of us headed to the bus station to go to Fatehpur Sikri, the abandoned city, not too far from Agra. An hour later, we arrived in this little town and made the hike up the hill to the city and listed a guide to take us around and he took us through the massive city gait, the largest one in the world, into the main courtyard. Not much to the city, everyone left there because there is not any water anywhere near here. There was a cemetery and a beautifully carved white tomb, I forget who is buried there, but not much more. The tomb definitely had the most intricate lattice work I have seen anywhere in India. We wandered around the city and the smaller one behind it before tiring of it and heading down to the town to have a look around. We walked about 200 yards down the main market street, but there were so many flies flying everywhere. It made a rather unpleasant experience. I was just waiting for one to fly up my nose or down my throat. 10 minutes later, we made a bee line for the bus station ready to endure the one-and –a half hour ride back to Agra on the local bus. Emmy and Tina were leaving that evening and as Emmy was flying back to San Francisco in 10 days, she came down to our room and offered to take a bag of our stuff back to California for us. It was like a God send, someone willing to take all the crap we had brought back home for us plus we knew it would get there. Rich took his camel leather bag and the two of us opened our packs and proceeded to fill the thing perfect, off load all our stuff. A short while later, Rich went downstairs to dial AT&T direct and make a collect call to the states, when he was done, the meter read Rs. 1 and the Indians thought he made a direct dial call, so they told him the bill was Rs. 1,700. They could not for the life of them understands the concept of a collect call and that they would not be charged for the call. Rich blew his top and when I came down, he was about ready to kill the Indians. I took over and started being the diplomat, but two hours later, we had resolved nothing. Rich had long gone to bed except we have managed to get across the concept of collect calls. I ended the negotiations, round I, by telling the Indians that Rich and I would get a letter from the head telecom office in Agra stating the hotel would not be charged. When I retired upstairs, Rich and I talked for a while and we figured out that the Indians absolutely do not have the same logical thinking process that every other country has. Western minds including Nepalese think of problem through from A to B. The Indian mind goes to A to B, but they come from a completely different direction, say C and no western mind can ever be enlightened enough to ever come close to understanding C. They have such a different logical thinking process and they do eventually reach B via C. It just takes them a lot longer. Their cognitive setup is not the same and even as I write this in Nepal, I am convinced it is an isolated problem in the Indian societies thinking. The Nepalese are all western-minded and I cannot understand how some of their logic cannot cross over the border. ### Solving the Phone Bill Date: March 10th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/solving-the-phone-bill/ Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India – Up in the morning and headed over to the central telegraph office via bike rickshaw to meet with someone to get the letter we needed. We worked our way up their hierarchical supervisorial system until about an hour later we were sitting in the higher-up’s office in a formal meeting with three of the subordinates we have been dealing with. Total conference and the dude spoke perfect English and he understood the concept of AT&T direct. No problems. He wrote us a letter saying things like “in your face” to the hotel dudes. Back to the hotel to read during the heat of the day, then over to the Taj for sunset. We wrote postcards and watched the Taj as the sun went down behind us. The Taj is definitely a totally different building at dawn in the daylight and at sunset truly spectacular. The sun went down and the stars were coming out when we decided to go and have another look inside. This time, we had brought our torches. We went inside and they told us it was closed, but we could go inside for 5 minutes anyway. It was so nice being inside the Taj grounds –alone – there was absolutely no one else in the entire complex save the guards and it was a real treat. We exited the Taj and were making our ways through the ground towards the main gate, when the Australian girl, we were with, spotted the fire flies. I had not seen them since living in Washington D.C. and she had never seen them, so we went running over to where they were and began playing with them. It was a nice touch being alone at the Taj and playing with the fire flies in the gardens before we left. We hung around the hotel and Rich went to bed early, while I hung out in the lounge with Sardar. I was talking with him and Sardar asked me if I wanted to go to an Indian dance party that was going on not far from the hotel. With nothing else on my agenda that evening, I said yes, and shortly thereafter we were walking through the backstreets of Agra at 11 p.m. at night. Sardar explained that the people were still celebrating Holi and that they would be going on all night. We turned down this brightly lit street strewn with silver and gold garland over the street. There was a large decorated gateway and a huge outdoor tent not too far behind to the gait. We entered. I got in free because of my sahib status and once again I was the lone white man at yet another Indian festival. People were dancing, music playing, food stalls everywhere, yes, these people were partying and yes all eyes were on me. We walked around for a while, then we headed back to the hotel due to the lack of women. Sardar and I sat on the roof talking and I found out he gets Rs. 500 a month plus food for working in the hotel. That is not a bad wage at all. He told me that the one habit the westerns have that Indian people find truly offensive is that of our blowing our nose into a piece of tissue and putting it into our pocket that is one the Indians cannot handle. ### Last Day at the Taj Mahal Date: March 11th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/last-day-at-the-taj-mahal/ Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India – We took pictures of each other, the Taj, the reflection of the Taj in my sunglasses, you name it, plus as an added attraction it was cleaning day at the Taj, so they drained the reflecting pool and there were 20 locals scrubbing the green scum at the bottom of the pool. They also had the most interesting type of lawn mower, an ox-powered grass cutter. The oxen were hooked up to a manual grass cuter and were wondering around the grounds, had to take photo of that. We sat there for most of the day and when I got tired of watching the oxen, I took a quick nap on the lawn. When it started to get really hot, we returned to the hotel, and I sat talking to the managers and Sardar during the heat of the day. Watched the sunset over the Taj from my final time from the roof of the hotel and justvegged on the steps of the hotel waiting to go to the bus station. I was entertained by a wedding procession marching by the hotel, groom mounted atop his white horse with a carnival looking electric-light decoration being carried on the shoulders of some men behind the groom. Since they were going down some side streets and hence needed to keep the carnival light thing juiced with electricity, there were another two blokes behind the fancy light set up, dragging their petrol-powered generator behind them. Shortly after the procession passed our hotel, I met Rich and we jumped in a rickshaw to the bus station to catch our bus to the train station. We were headed to Varanasi by train, but other travels have told us we could shave 7 hours of our train ride if we travel the one hour on the bus to another station outside of Agra. Sounded like a good idea to us, so we figured out which bus we needed and made it to the train station. The train journey was like any other night train we would have been, but it was the chai boys at the station that surprised me. We called over one of the chai boys to where we were siting and upon placing our order we were presented our. Rs. 1.50 teas in small earthenware pots rather similar to a potted plant pot. Finished our tea and I took the glasses back to the chai boy so he could use them again later. He looked at me pretty funny. When I tried to hand him the cups, he told me to throw them down to the train tracks. I was flabbergasted that he wanted me to throw the cups away, so just to be sure I made the motions of throwing the cups under the train. The chai boy nodded in the affirmative and as I tossed the cups down into the tracks, I was rewarded with the sound of shattering earthenware. Even after being in India for 10 weeks, it still was amazing me, disposable earthenware cups, what would they think of next. ### Burning Ghats of Varanasi Date: March 12th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/burning-ghats-of-varanasi/ Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India – Our train arrived Muglie at 9.a.m. and we jumped on the bus for one hour ride to Varanasi. We arrived no problem and Rich and I got a rickshaw to the outskirts of the old city. No autorickshaws allowed in there. We were wondering around the old city looking for this hotel when he went one way and I went another, so now I was on my own. I finally found him at the Shanti Lodge where he had booked us a room with doors opened up ontothe sundeck and the view of Varanasi. We rested a bit and then changed 20 US so we would have enough money to get out of the country since we were headed to Nepal the next morning. The Indian rupee became a free floating, fully convertible currency like two weeks before, so the foreign exchange rate had been steadily going up. US $1 was equal to 31 rupees 70 paise. Varanasi is known as the holy city on the Ganges and people from all over India bring their deceased relatives of Varanasi to have them burnt on the banks of the Ganges. It is really special prestigious thing to have this done to you. After a nap and a shower, Rich and I were relaxing on the roof when Barry and Kim Stone came over to our table and started talking to us. I had met the two of them on the roof admiring the Taj in Agra. We chatted for a while and I mentioned Rich and I were going to hire a boat and take a sunset cruise down the Ganges. Barry and Kim said they would join us but they would like to stop at the burning ghats on the way down because he was thinking of making a movie about dying. You see, Barry and Kim are Canadians and he is a movie producer/director. I did not think much about it when I first met them. I would not have known him from the post but I guess he is well-established director. He did like talking about his work too much but he did mention in passing that the film he has made might be going to the Cannes Film Festival and he might have to cut his trip to Nepal short because he would have to fly back and do some work on the film before it went to the next round of judging. He has filmed a pilot episode in Budapest for NBC and the way he was talking, he and Ryan are seem to be pretty good buddies. I think they liked being around us because we had no clues who the hell they were. No questions about the movie business from us, which kept them relaxed. Barry Stone, Oliver Stone, any relation. I will do the research and find out. The four of us headed down to the burning ghats and watched as the mourners brought the shrouded bodies down the steps, dunk the bodies in the holy waters of the Ganges, then place it at atop the pyre which is a wooden pyramid and settle it. We all stood there and watched, fascinated as these bodies burnt in the fires. We could actually see the skin bubbling and noticed the defined features of the bodies. Like seeing the slaughtering of cows in Uganda, this kept us in trance due to shear morbid curiosity. Rich and I were finishing our trip through the Indian subcontinent that day and here we were at the holiest finishing point in the country – very appropriate. We moved down the banks the river a bit and found a captain to take us down river in his boat. The boat took us slowly pass the bathing ghats and the marked down to the other end of the city. The Ganges river is so holy to the Indian population and there are certain traditions they have which would disturb Western minds. The Indians do not believe that babies, priests, and white cows should be burnt on the pyres when they die. They consider these things pure enough to just throw the corpses directly into the river. Along with this, all of the people come down to the ghats every morning to bath in the holy waters of the river. Bathing where these corpses are thrown, not my idea of sanitary. During our sunset cruise, we did see the body of a dead baby go floating by but it was no as gruesome as I expected it to be. The boat let us out near the markets and Barry, Kim, Rich, and I grabbed a bite to eat before wandering the narrow streets back towards our hotel. We came across the most amazing Indian treat, dried mango slice just like fruit roll up but the mango does not get stuck in our teeth. We went back to our room and chatted with Kim and Barry some more about Nepal before they left to go to their hotel. Really nice people and they are headed to Pokhara, Nepal as well to go tracking, so may be we will see them over there. ### Crossing the Nepalese Border Date: March 13th, 1993 | Country: India | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/crossing-the-nepalese-border/ Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India – Up at 6 a.m. and headed down the river for our sunrise boat cruise to see all of the people bathing in the river. We cruised down the river but I was surprised not to see like hundreds of people bathing. There were only about 50 spread out along the length of the river. We did pass a dead cow floating on the river complete with two crows standing on it and the Indians were bathing and putting the river water in their mouth not 50 yards from it. After our ride, we went and picked up our packs from the hotel, then we were led by a couple of locals through the Varanasi maze to a bicycle rickshaw. Bicycle rickshaw to auto rickshaw to bus station, what a transfer. Found our bus to Gorkahpur and it was leaving immediately for our destination. It was supposed to take five hours but eight hours later after a very bumpy ride due to non-padded seats, we arrived in Gorkahpur. We de-bused like a deplaning, Rich just a touch nauseous and inquired about a bus to Sunauli on the Indian and Nepalese border. We were directed to the bus, and magically, it was making an immediate departure for Nepal. Once we were on the bus, Rich and I commented on once again the fact that we have been so lucky with buses in India. Virtually, every bus we boarded in 10 weeks was making an eminent departure, had two seats free for us to sit in and space inside the bus for our large rucksacks just like clockwork every time. This was supposed to be a three-hour ride but there were road works the entire way of the border so of course it took us a lot longer. We arrived at Sunauli outskirts at 8:30 p.m. and hired a bicycle rickshaw to take us into town to the border. We found the immigration post, which looked like any other shop on the street and began exit formalities. The officials started the paperwork, then the head dude started talking to me saying that the office was technically closed and that we should help out the man stamping our passports, aka, given him money. These boys had already taken away our residence permits and I was annoyed enough as I was from hell bus rides, so I was not about to give anyone any bribes. I just played dumb tourist and to be honest when he first said help out the guy, I seriously thought he wanted me to help him, may be ink the exit stamp for him, what. The head guy told us the Nepal border was closed and they had done us a favor by stamping us out but we just put our packs on and started walking away. As we were leaving, this dude came over to us and asked if were going to Nepal. He said he knew of a hotel we could stay in on the Nepal side and that he would lead us over there. Being used to the Indian shafting the tourist, I was sort of rude to him as we are to the Indians but this guy was different. He was cordial, laid back, and really friendly. He also looked different from the Indians. His eyes were sloped more like an Asian then an Indian. He chatted to us and walked us under the immigration barricade on the Indian side. We crossed into no man’s land, then crossed under the Nepalese immigration barricade, even though the border was technically closed. As we crossed, a policeman came running out of the check post there but our Nepalese guide said something to him, which made the policeman just turn around and go back into his booth. Our guide told us immigration opened at 6 a.m. the next day and we could get our 30-day visa there the next morning. We got to the hotel and I was still suspicious because the guy had been so friendly, but at that time I did not know that all Nepalese people are so cordial and personable. We got a room ate and relaxd at our hotel while I drank my first beer in Nepal while listening to the Beatles – Western music. Even though we were only 500 yards beyond the Nepalese border, I could actually feel the difference. ### Small Buses to Pokhara Date: March 14th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/small-buses-to-pokhara/ Belahiya, Nepal – Sunauli in India, Belahiya on the Nepal side. We woke up at 6 a.m. and headed over to the immigration office to get our visas and get stamped into Nepal. We arrived at the immigration office and the dudes were standing outside watching us approach from the Nepal side not the Indian side. Evidently, it did not phase them because they issued our visas, no problem but one officer did mention sarcastically that there was not an extra $10 included with our visa payments for him. From immigration, it was to the bank to change money. US $1 equals 50 Nepalese rupees. The bank was also changing over Indian rupees, so it is technically illegal to take them out of India and the bank people were changing them over without any transaction record, imagine that. We had one more bus ride to endure to Pokhara before we could truly begin to enjoy Nepal. Our bus pulled up a little later and there was the mad dash to get a seat. When the bus pulled up, there was a swarm of Nepalese boys, each one trying to get your pack out of your hand to carry it to the bus’ roof for the extortionate amount of 10 rupees. We boarded the bus and after sitting in my seat for about two seconds, I came to the realization that all Nepalese people must be under 5 feet height because my feet were not touching the floor due to the fact that the seat in front of me was so close the my kneecaps prevented the soles of my shoes from moving any lower plus there was not enough room to put our daypacks under our feet, so we tossed them into the aisle along with everyone else’s packs. The bus was absolutely jam-packed and some of the women with children were given small stools so that they could sit in the aisle of the bus. Our bus finally departed. One thing India and Nepal do have in common is that nothing is ever on time. Into the Himalayan foothills on one of those narrow winding roads that you always read about in the paper when a Nepalese bus goes over the edge and kills 20. Not 15 minutes after we had began our ascent on this road with no guard rails and major cliff drops, we saw a large truck balanced on a boulder 20 to 30 feet below the level of the road. The truck was surrounded by people who seem to be trying to figure out how to go about getting the truck back up to the road, all this within the first hour of our first Nepalese bus ride. Our bus was supposed to be tourist bus but it was really half tourist express and half local, so I continued to stop for 20 minutes at a time in most small villages. This was only supposed to be a nine-hour bus ride but at this rate who knew how long it was going to take us. The bus climbed higher and higher, passed the terraced fields, the mountain farmers were tending. Our bus made a few more useless stops, then it began to rain. I thought the monsoon was not until May rain great. Now the bus had a fighting chance to really slide off the road into the river. We drove and drove and drove and more people got on and we drove some more. Our driver would be driving down into the valleys and it accelerated into a 25 km an hour hairpin turn, then slammed on the brakes just as we started turning plus it was not like all 75 people on the bus could not see the turn. We had all been staring at it for 10 minutes, why accelerate. Rich and I decided it was because the driver did not know which paddle was the brake and which paddle was the gas. So, he just pressed both of them at the same time in order to figure out which was the brake. We descended down into the Pokhara valley and stopped at the checkpoint a little bit out of town. After checking in with the police, the hotel touts started their swarm. This was different though because they were all really mellow, cordial, and no pressure on you whatsoever. Come to my hotel and if you do not like it, okay was the usual response, so mellow. It was going to take us a few days to get used to this lifestyle. The touts piled on to the bus with us and when the bus finally dropped us off, Rich and I decided to go to the Hotel Riz with a dude named Babu Ram. He was very mellow and after we had checked into our room, I had another well earned beer before crashing out. ### Shopping in Pokhara Date: March 15th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/shopping-in-pokhara/ Pokhara, Nepal – Up at 7:00 a.m. and walked out on to the deck of our hotel only to see the most breathtaking, stunning view of the snow-capped Himalayas. Those two days of bus riding were worth seeing the view from our hotel deck, it was stupendous. Sat in our hotel restaurant complete with bay windows facing the mountains all morning drinking tea. We headed over to the bank to change money but when they gave us the Nepalese rupees, they were all in 1000 rupee notes, no one in Pokhara would ever have change for that. So, we headed to the next counter to change down the notes. I told the guy I wanted all the notes in denominations of 50 rupees or less and that is when the fun began. He opened his steel container and began to pool out bale after bale of money. Yes, this happened to us in India but this was even more fun. He ran out of 50s, so he began to put bales of 10s and 5s upon the counter. I opened by bag pack and just began filling it up with out newest version of real monopoly money. One rupee is worth 2 cents. Rich saved a whole bunch of 1s, so he could wall paper part of his bathroom. We headed back to the hotel and took pictures of ourselves with our new found wealth stocked on the table. We had asked Babu Ram to organize some bikes for out so we could go cycling through the old city but 15 minutes after we left the hotel, I managed to run over a broken bottle and give myself a flat. We walked back to the hotel, dumped our bikes and decided to head the opposite direction towards the lake. Pokhara sits on a lake and the mountains go jetting down steeply into the water, very similarly to the landscape in Scotland. It is really beautiful that way. We headed towards the lake side but it took us almost three hours to get actually to the lake because we got stuck in the various Tibetan Craft and T-shirt embroidering shops. Stopped for lunch when we could just barely see the water of the lake and I had Enchiladas, real Mexican food for the first time in five months. Nepal is known for their food mainly because they cook Western dishes really well and everyone coming from India usually goes on a feeding frenzy when they arrive here. The food is also a nice break right between eating Indian for 2-1/2 months and starting Thai and Southeast Asian food. More shopping after lunch and before we knew it, it was getting dark. We stopped for a beer but skipped dinner for we had been eating our way through town. By the time we got to the hotel, it was pitch black outside and we were both pretty tired after out shopping spree. I ended up buying a silver bracelet for 80 rupees and a carved wooden mask for 200 rupees. ### Negotiating for My Guide Date: March 16th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/negotiating-for-my-guide/ Pokhara, Nepal – Up this morning and headed straight to the German Bakery down on the corner. We had discovered this place the previous morning and it was a God send. They served tea and coffee and served the best pastries, plus we could sit there admiring the mountains as we ate. After breakfast, it was off to the immigration office to sort out our trekking permits. One and a half hours and 500 rupees later, we left only to return at 4 p.m. to pick up our passports. Rich got a three-week permit while I only got a two week. He was going to do the 19-day Annapurna circuit all the way around, while I was going to do an 8-day trip up into the Himalayas and fly back. That way I could get into the Kathmandu Valley faster in order to see more of the country in our 30-day period. We cleaned up and finally headed into town at 1:30 checking out all the camping rental shops for we both needed to rent down jackets and backpacks for our respective treks. As we were walking along, I walked down to the lakeside where I met this Nepalese dude standing there. I started talking to him and he asked me if I was going trekking and whether I needed a guide. I had been towing with the idea of taking a guide/porter because I really did not feel like carrying my own pack up the tallest mountains in the world when I could afford to have someone do it for me. I asked for a price and told Ram, the Nepalese guy, I think about it and talked to him the next day. The price I negotiated was 280 rupees per day, $4 and 60 cents, plus another 300 rupees for him to climb down the mountain after I had flown home. Rich and I wandered through the shops all day again and Rich rented the pack and coat he needed for his departure the next day. Back to immigration at 4 o’clock to get the passports, then back into town again for dinner, I went and talked to Ram again to confirm we would be leaving on the 18 th , but then there was a power outage and I managed to lose Rich when it got dark. Grabbed the dinner at a lakeside restaurant, then headed back to the hotel to talk to Rich while he packed. ### Preparing to Trek Date: March 17th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/preparing-to-trek/ Pokhara, Nepal – Up at 5 a.m. to see Rich off on his journey. I told him that I would leave him a note at the hotel and another one in Kathmandu telling him where to find me. He got on his bus to start his trek and I wandered up to the restaurant to write and watched the sun come up and light up the mountains. I rented a bike and went to the lakeside to sort everything out with Ram regarding our departure the next morning. When that was done, I biked the 5 to 6 kilometers up to the opposite side of old Pokhara. This is what the town looked like before tourism and electricity arrived and there was a marked difference. It looks like a mountain village, Squaw Valley, California kept springing to mind. Narrow streets with your basic two-storey buildings. I really did get the feeling I was in Lake Tahoe with the mountains rising up behind the buildings, but this was not Tahoe. This was Nepal, the tiny mountain kingdom. After a long ride, I went back to the hotel and had a beer, which floored me. I slept away most of the day and woke up at dusk, just in time to ride into town and get the backpack I would be using on the trek from Ram. I picked up a pair of wool gloves for 70 rupees, figured I might need a pair of those at 3000 meters. ### First Day of Trekking Date: March 18th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/first-day-of-trekking/ Pokhara, Nepal – Battled the mosquitoes in the bedroom all night and had to fumble around in the dark at 3:30 a.m. looking for matches to light the mosquito coil because there was not any power. Left the hotel at 7 a.m., breakfast at the German Bakery, then I walked to the lakeside to meet Ram and give him the pack. We were doing an eight-day trek, Pokhara to Muktinath, which is a little more than a 110 kilometers, Pokhara to Jomsom a 110 kilometers. We boarded the local bus up to old Pokhara, ride bicycle the day before, and disembarked. Now the trek would begin. We could have taken the bus farther up into the mountains, but I wanted to start walking, so we headed up the side of the hill towards our first village, Sarangkot. The village sits high up on a ridge above Pokhara and it was a mighty climb on the way up. Once we were at the top of the ridge, it was no problem and it was just the hike up there. We passed the terraced wheat fields, each surrounded by a low wall made of stacked shale stones. Passed many a village house and had a really nice walk through Sarangkot to the next city of Naudanda at 1430 meters where we stopped for lunch. We rested there for a spell before moving on, finally stopping at Khare at 1710 meters for the evening. Ram knew the lodge owner and we turned out to be the only people staying there that evening. It was one of those rickety old lodges with spaces between the boards when it was built, rather like one of the old Tahoe cabins. Our room was just large enough for two beds and somehow a poster of the space shuttle had migrated to Nepal and ended up on the wall in our room. Ram and I headed downstairs for a beer and to watch the sun go down. Once it got dark, we got a deck of cards from the hotel (yeah!) but since Ram had never seen a pack of western cards, I had to teach him the names of the suits. I taught him Crazy Eights, a relatively easy game, but since you continually have to call out the suits all the time in addition to the fact that Ram could not remember the English names of the suits, he had to make himself a translation table to help him remember. It was really funny teaching him this game and he had a great time learning it as well. It got too cold to sit around any longer, so we headed upstairs and crashed for the night. ### Himalayan Foothills – Day 2 Date: March 19th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/himalayan-foothills-day-2/ Trekking, Day 2, Khare to Ulleri – Up at half seven, a quick tea, then we were off. For the first part of the morning, we followed the paved road. Evidently, the Chinese come down and build a new section of the road every year, so their trucks can bring Chinese goods over the border. Hence, all the locals refer to it as the Chinese road. We followed the road, then veared off towards Lumli at 1585 meters. Wandered through this village that clings to the side of the mountain and made our way to Chandrakot at 1550 meters for our next tea break. From there, it was a steep climb down into the valley where we followed the river along, finally arriving at Birenthani at 1065 meters. Birenthani is a cool little town with sidewalk cafes, but it touched too touristy for my taste. We sat there and had breakfast and while we were there, we found Som, one of Ram’s friends from Pokhara. Som was guiding an older British woman, Helen and a 32-year-old Swedish woman, Maurita. As Ram and Som chatted together, I started talking to Maurita and Helen. Since we were all going in the same direction, I ended up walking with the other two ladies. Maurita was a really cool hip girl, but Helen was a decrepit old typical English grandmother who complained all the time. The good thing was that she could not keep up with my pace and Maurita preferred walking with me, so the old mother as Ram and Som called her was always miles behind. We walked uphill all afternoon, rather steep at times before reaching Tirkhedungha at 1525 meters. Lunch and rest, then we started the hell climb up to Ulleri at the top of the hill, 500 meters, straight up climbing stairs. Two hours later, we reached Ulleri 2070 meters where we got a bed at another of those lodges with the creaky floors and the stairs like those in Holland. This place actually had a dining room for people to sit in with a row of windows facing the valley we just climbed out of. Ulleri has a lot of character and it stuck up on the side of the hill balanced precariously up there, plus the Nepalese Military can be seen walking up the mountain through Ulleri on route to the high-altitude military camp up in Jomsom. We ate dinner by candlelight and we drank peppercorn, yes pepper tea tasted like milk, pepper, and sugar and Ram and Som sang some Nepalese songs to us before we retired to bed. ### “I’m cunt” – Day 3 Date: March 20th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/i-m-cunt-day-3/ Trekking, Day 3, Ulleri to Ghorapani – Up and breakfast of Tibetan bread and honey. Ram and Som told me they were going to set me and them up with a Nepalese girl in Ghorapani. Left Ulleri and climbed up more stairs to Nayathanti at 2460 meters for a tea break. That took half the day. Then we moved on to Ghorapani at 2770 meters, meaning horse water, which was a really hard hike. We were exhausted when we reached the village and we continued on and climbed vertically a bit more up to side of Poon Hill to the Snow View Lodge. This hike did not take us that long. We arrived at 1:30, but everyone including the guides were exhausted. Our lodge in Ghorapani was cool, windows facing the mountains with a large wood burning stove in the middle of the common room. We were the only tourist when we arrived and as we were making our way up the hill to the lodge, it started snowing, so that wood stove certainly seem to be a godsend to us. We sat around the fire all afternoon and I got to meet the “sure thing” as Som put it, really cute 19-year-old Nepalese girl who spoke really good English and had a great personality. We sat in the common room writing all day and as the hours past, more trekkers continued to arrive dusting the snow off as they entered. It was really relaxing and so peaceful. By the time the sun had gone down, our lodge was full and we had acquired two Austrians, one Canadian, two Israelis, and two more British folks. It was so cool because everyone just sat around the fire chatting to each other. I learned some more Nepalese. Ram has been teaching me Nepalese since we left and I tried to talk to some of the other porters and guides. As we were making our way to Ghorapani, we were walking through some beautiful forests with the moss hanging off the trees. As we were going up, Ram and Som taught me that teak-cha meant okay, but cheecha meant cunt. So they then preceded to teach Maurita that cheecha meant okay and they giggled hysterically whenever she would say it. We passed one of the mule trains on the trail and one of the mule drivers asked us in Nepalese how we were doing. Maurita responded in Nepalese translated for you “I’m cunt”. The driver laughed. Ram and Som were hysterical and I giggled my fair share. We stopped and ate my dried mango slice while sitting at the base of this waterfall in the forest, so peaceful and so cool. The walk was most enjoyable. We sat around the fire and Ram called over the Nepalese girl. The three of us talked for a while and she agreed to sleep with both of us in my room that evening. She said she liked western spicy American men and she knocked on my door that evening bringing Ram with her. I retired to bed, but no one knocked on my door that evening. ### Freezing at Dawn on Pun Hill Date: March 21st, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/freezing-at-dawn-on-pun-hill/ Trekking, Day 4, Ghorapani to Tatopani – Up at 5:30 a.m. and it was absolutely numbingly cold, great and I was about to climb 300 meters straight up the hill behind the hotel named Pun Hill to watch the sunrise over the Himalayas. It was even colder outside and the hike was really taxing. Something I was not mentally prepared to do that early in the morning. We reached the top, both Ram and I winded only to be met by the chai men who were waiting up there with their thermoses of tea to sell. There were a lot of trekkers on top, everyone jumping around because it was so cold. The sun did come up, but it was cloudy, so we did not get a totally awesome sunrise, needless to say we had a great view of the Himalayas, even though it was overcast. Took a whole bunch of photos until my hands were numb and Ram was almost overcome by frostbite. Met Som, Maurita, and Helen up top and the minute I was done taking photos, Ram, Som, and I went sprinting down the 1000 or so steps in an attempt to get warm. Ran back to the lodge to huddle around the fire and drink tea. Met the Nepalese girl and she asked where we you last night. I asked her where she was and she just shrugged and went into the kitchen. Ram explained that when he went to go find her late last night, she was not in the bed she said she would be sleeping in, that is why there was not a knock at my door late last night. We gathered our belongings and left the lodge at 8:30 a.m. on route to Tatopani, translated hot water. There are some natural hot springs at our next destination and if it is not too cold, I might take a dip. We walked downhill all day with a couple of Brits we had met at the hotel and Maurita and after crossing a few huge suspension bridges over this massive chasm between the mountains, we arrived at Tatopani in the late afternoon. Tatopani at 1189 meters is a cutesy little village that totally reminded me of the English Cotswolds Villages. We got a room in this hotel absolutely crawling with tourists and ended up sitting in the hotel courtyard drinking tea for the remainder of the day. I did take a walk through the village for 10 minutes and managed to find the hot springs, but it was way too cold to take off any clothing and get in. The Nepalese women more like grandmothers had no problem stripping down to the waist and getting in, but they were used to this sub-zero weather. Maurita and I sat and talked to Ram that evening and learned a bit more about his life in Nepal. He is 23, married, and has two sons. He got married when he was 19 and had a baby about two weeks’ later. It was one of those kind of weddings. He said he has no money and not even a steady job, so trekking is the only way he makes any money. Now the first thing that happens to the reader’s mind would be that he was giving me a sob story, but after spending a few days with him, I learned that he was totally honest and really did just have a hard life. The only clothes he has are the ones he was wearing and after seeing him in Pokhara for the 4 days before we left and seeing how many clothes he brought on the trek, none, and noticing how cold he was at times what he said was true. I will probably buy him a $10 coat when we get back to Pokhara for him to use on other treks. ### Tatopani to Kalopani – Day 5 Date: March 22nd, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/tatopani-to-kalopani-day-5/ Trekking, Day 5, Tatopani to Kalopani – We got up and I bid Som and Maurita farewell as they were headed down the mountain while we were headed up. We walked all day and Ram kept saying that Kalopani was too far to go in one day, but I really wanted to get higher up so we would see more mountains all around us. We walked 5 hours through the village of Dana at 1400 meters until we reached Ghasa at 2000 meters at 3 p.m. Stopped for lunch of a dal bhat , the Nepalese equivalent of an Indian thali before moving on. We were tired when we stopped for lunch and Ram kept saying it was a hard climb to Kalopani meaning black water, but I decided to move on. We began the arduous task of climbing up this mountain to 2470 meters and it was absolutely exhausting. A hard climb through the forest and every time we had conquered one hill, there was always one more higher just behind it. We passed many an Indian sadhus walking barefooted up to Muktinath at 12,400 feet to pray at the temple there, but the sadhus did not look that happy about doing the climb either. We passed this one sadhu, who was busy boring a hole in the bottom of a live bamboo stock. Ram asked him what he was doing and the sadhu replied he was going to chop down the bamboo to make a chillum, so he could have a smoke. We hit the crest of the umpteenth hill and could see the suspension bridge going over the river to the village of Lete at 2470 meters. We were only about 40 minutes from Kalopani now, so we got our second wind, over the bridge and one more 100-meter climb before we were on the plateau that Kalopani sat on. We came out of the forest and there were mountains all around us. Just below us were the green terraced wheat fields of Kalopani at 2560 meters so picturesque, so we took quite a few pictures with Annapurna 2 in the background. We made our way through the village to See You Lodge where we got a room. When we entered, I noticed that everyone in the lounge was squashed around this large table with a floor-length tablecloth around it. I did not think much of it and just sat near the table and started talking to this Dutch girl. She asked if I wanted to sit at the big table and moved over to make room for me. Not arguing with her, I moved over and swung my legs under the table. Then I figured out why this table was so popular. Under the table was a large metal container full of red, hot coals thereby heating everyone’s legs, so that was the attraction. I did not realize it, but we had crossed out of Nepal’s Kagbeni district and entered Mustang. These coals under the table are only found in Mustang and judging by the outside temperature, no wonder they are found in all the lodges in Mustang. Our entire table was packed with trekkers and after talking to everyone for a while, I learned there were two Canadians, one Dutch girl, and something like twelve Israelis. The Canadians and Dutch were so stoked they had found another person, me, who did not speak Israeli as my first language. The deal with the Israelis traveling is that they never travel in groups of 2 or 3, it is always like 10 or 20 of them together. They are also just as gregarious, loud, and boisterous as Americans, a trait I did not know they had. We sat around to this warm table all night playing cards and mind games and no one got up from the table unless they were going to bed, it was just a bit nippy. Ram and I retired to bed and he told me he did not like Israelis because he had been knifed in the arm by one when he was a porter a few years back. ### Kalopani to Marpha – Day 6 Date: March 23rd, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/kalopani-to-marpha-day-6/ Trekking, Day 6, Kalopani to Marpha – We woke up late like 8 o’clock and sat around the lodge because it was rainy and windy outside and I did not particularly feel like walking to our next stop in the rain. After about an hour, the rain just turned to drizzle, so we decided to brave the element and start our walking. We were not going that far today, only about 5 hours to Marpha, our next stop. We walked through the drizzle and both Ram’s and mine down jackets rented were sopping wet by the time we had reached Tukche at 2590 meters for a tea break. The wind was picking up and making the walk at touch tres unpleasant but we still had not reached our final destination. We sat drinking chai until at least the rain stopped and then braved the wind for our final hour. We left the chai shop and made our way through the yaks carrying supplies of the mountains finally arriving in Marpha at 2665 meters later. Marpha is another quaint town and as we passed through the village gates, a huge herd of mountain goats came running through the tunnel, so we had to stand aside to let them pass. The higher and higher we got into the mountains, the more Tibetan influence there was. In Marpha, there were many curio shops with signs like Tibetan refugee craft shops and things like that. Our lodge in Marpha had a ubiquitous coals under the table and even had a glass solarium on the roof, so you could look at the mountains where you are eating. Too bad, it was overcast. I sat in the solarium, writing, warming my feet as more and more Trekkers arrived at the lodge. Ram and I had some apple brandy, which tasted like Everclear 100 proof and I guessed Ram was not used to hard liquor because two hours later, he went to bed complaining of a headache and stomachache. I thought it was nausea. I taught him the word hangover the next morning as he had a rather bad one. I sat around chatting to people and met these two girls from Monterey and another from Vancouver, so the four of us pissed the evening away playing hearts while the power kept going on and off. The power went off so frequently that we resigned ourselves to having a lit candle on the table even though there was electricity. You never knew when the lights were going to go off. ### Kagbeni & Mustang – End of the Line – Day 7 Date: March 24th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/kagbeni-mustang-end-of-the-line-day-7/ Trekking, Day 7 , Marpha to Kagbeni – Left our lodge in Marpha at 7 a.m. and headed for Kagbeni, a village up on the Tibetan plateau. We rounded the first ridge and were rewarded with the best views of the mountain we had had in seven days plus there were tons of blooming cherry blossoms, which made the views even better. I must have taken 10 photos of the different mountains. We had not been able to see the tops due to the low clouds. I do not even think I can describe the beauty. The photos will have to speak for themselves. We moved on and arrive in Jomsom at 2713 meters and went straight to the airport building shack to book a return flight back to Pokhara in two days’ time. Ram has been a great guide and since he has never been in an airplane and Nepalese people get 50% off, I pain for his place ticket as well. In addition, I think he got a stress fracture on his left foot back in Tatopani. He has been mentioning that it hurt to put pressure on his foot, more so when he was climbing down. So I decided to fly him back. Should be interesting to see his reaction to an airplane flight. Not much in Jomsom except the airport, so we pressed and started walking down this wide, dry riverbed towards Kagbeni. As we left Jomsom, a flight was arriving and we watched the place pull in incredibly tight circle over the riverbed when it was landing. Ram watched the plane, then looked at me incredulously and asked if there were shoulder and waist harnesses that people wore while in an airplane. I told him no. Then he asked if it was very dangerous to fly. I said no again but I am not quite sure if he really believed me. The terrain changed dramatically after Jomsom. In fact, there was no longer any vegetation on any of the hillsides, just huge, scraggly rock reaching down the riverbed we were walking in. Palm Springs without grass came to mind, but the wind is what the major different was. Every day about 11 a.m., the wind comes whistling down the valley and it is strong and extremely cold. Both of us were frozen to the bone by the time we arrived in Kagbeni at 2810 meters. Kagbeni is a village of Tibetan refugees and is the most northerly point foreigners are allowed to go in this region of Nepal. We entered the village and I could actually feel a difference. This was not Nepalese. The village had a stream flowing through it and it was landscaped a bit with green-leafed trees and cherry blossoms. There were three pillared Tibetan temples here and there were tons of prayer wheels all over the place. I was so entranced by this place that we wandered around the village checking it out and taking photos before we had even found a hotel. We walked to the very edge of the village and I found the sign saying “restricted area”. No foreigners passed to this point signifying the beginning of the Mustang Kingdom. Took more photos of the yaks, people, and landscape before getting a room at the new Annapurna Lodge. This lodge was run by the two liveliest Tibetan girls, and later on in the evening, they were singing and dancing for our benefit, too cool. Ram and I had quite a few beers before retiring up to bed. I had a coughing attack up in the room and Ram replied altitude sickness. Ever since the first day, I had been concerned about getting it. So every time either one of us had a coughing attack, we both chime in, altitude sickness. One thing I did notice was that virtually all the trekkers I had met had a cough and a cold, the cough being more predominant. I have since named it the Himalayan hack since everybody seems to get it when they go trekking. ### Try for Muktinath – Day 8 Date: March 25th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/try-for-muktinath-day-8/ Trekking, Day 8, Kagbeni, Muktinath, Jomsom – Up early at 6 a.m. because I wanted to hike up to the pilgrimage point of Muktinath at 3710 meters to see the village and temples up there before hiking down to Jomsom in the late afternoon in order to get our flight the next day. We left at 6:15 a.m. and started the very-very steep climb up the ridge towards Muktinath. It was overcast and cold when we started but tolerable. We reached the top of the first ridge and traversed the top of it to the base of the second one. We started climbing the second ridge and it began to snow lightly. Not letting the element stop me, we continued on but it began to snow harder and harder. We hit the crest of the second peak, walked across the field towards the third ridge. Ram kept telling me we had a lot more climbing to go but I wanted to see myself. The snow gave us zero visibility, but once we were close enough to the third ridge and I could see the trail going up at a 45-degree angle, I figured I had been beaten. The snow came down harder and harder and the wind picked up making it a full-on blizzard. I decided to go trekking through. We turned around and headed back down the mountain, and I took note that we could not even see the village because there was so much snow. We arrived back in Kagbeni at 8 a.m. for a tea break and to dry out before leaving for our final destination Jomsom. We walked back down the dry riverbed for three hours and finally arrived in Jomsom, just before the wind picked up. We got a room in a lodge near the airport and sat inside all afternoon because it was too windy and cold to go outside. It began to snow in the late afternoon and continued to snow all night. Ram taught me the game Carrom Board, which is just like American pool crossed with shuffleboard. You flick these poker chips across a powdered board attempting to knock the pieces of your color into the four-corner pockets. It was so cold and there was not any power, so Ram and I retired to our room at 7 p.m. for the night. ADDENDUM- While we were sitting around the table, I learned all the words to this Nepalese song that Ram and Som had started to teach me in Ulleri. All Nepalese people know this song, it is called Rassampieree. There is no direct translation for the title, but Ram told me people say it when they are celebrating and waving a scarf over their head. It is a celebration chant, the words not the song. They sing the song at the Donsai festival in April, but people generally sing it all the year around. This song is written phonetically so we can read it, then the translation follows. This song is also sung at Nepalese weddings. Insert text of Nepali song. ### The Yeti or “Bonne Manchie” Date: March 26th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/the-yeti-or-bonne-manchie/ Jomsom, Nepal, Interview with Ram Gurung – I was speaking with Ram and he explained that the Nepalese differentiate between the terms forest and jungle. The jungle to them would be forest in our vocabulary. The uncamped wilderness with very old trees, the basic mountainous lake Tahoe environment. The forest to the Nepalese is an area that has been planted by some agency in a reforestation scheme. Ram said it was illegal to cut down any trees in the forest but in the jungle one can cut down as many trees for fuel as you needed. I asked him about the yeti, the Nepalese version of big foot but he had no idea what I was talking about. He had never heard the term yeti before. I drew a picture of one and the light bulb went off in his head “not yeti, Bonne Manchie . “Bonne Manchie”is directly translated jungle man. The term the Nepalese use to describe the yeti. The Bonne Manchiewill now be referred to the yeti as I write. Ram told me he first heard of the yeti from the “old man” who tells everyone the history. He explained to all people, from young children to old woman go to the old man’s house to listen to him tell their history. Ram first heard the old man’s stories when he was 6 and here is the version of the legend of the yeti he was told. The old man said there was a jungle man in the Nepalese jungles and that it was larger than a normal man, much taller with longer arms and legs and big feet. The jungle man was covered in “slippery” black hair all over and was sort of like a monkey but more like a man. The old man said you could see the huge footprints in the jungle but (and this is interesting) the footprints would always be facing the opposite direction from the way the yeti was really heading. The old man said he had seen a yeti and his story was that: He was in the jungle, cutting down a tree with an axe. When he looked up, there was a jungle man standing there, watching him. The old man stared at the jungle man for a moment and then started running back to his home. The jungle man just as scared of the old man as the man was of him ran off deeper into the jungle. The old man continued his story by telling the Nepalese that the yeti kills men but not women. It just rapes the women. If a woman is walking through the forest and the jungle man sees her, it will grab her, have sex with her, then go off deeper into the woods. The man also told them that if the women are staying alone at their homes without their husband, there is a chance that the jungle man will come into the house and sleep with the woman, nice way of scaring the woman into submission. The only other thing Ram can remember the old man saying about the yeti was that you could not kill it with a knife, only a gun. The old man said if there is a yeti 5 to 10 yards away and this is Ram’s version of the story and you throw your knife at it, the knife will just bounce off leaving the jungle man unharmed. Ram lives in the “jungle” a few hours from Pokhara, so I asked him if he ever seen one himself. He said yes, he had seen one and to give his story credence, he was with a group of seven people all who spotted the jungle man. He said he was 12 or 13 and they were going up into the jungle to get wood when they looked up and saw the jungle man climbing a tree about 30 yards away. Ram described him and said the yeti was larger than any normal man, covered in black hair all over its body except its face. He said the face looked similar to a man’s but much longer. The yeti was up on a tree and one of the people he was with pointed to it and said, “there is the jungle man.” The seven boys looked at the yeti and the yeti stared back at them. Then the boys went running back home remembering the old man’s words that the jungle man killed people. I asked if he had seen any yeti footprints and he said when he does into the jungle near his home sometimes he sees them. He said he has seen different sized footprints, some a little bigger than his own foot. He thinks these are young Bonne Manchie s and others, which dwarfed his own footprint. His reckons these are old yetis. I was going to go up to his house over the next couple of days and we were going yeti footprint hunting but since it is a blizzard condition outside, Ram said there would not be any footprints for a while. Ram also mentioned that sometimes he sees the Bonne Manchiefeces in the forest and is always really-really black. He wondered what he ate to make it that color. Interviews with various Nepalese people 31 st March, 1993 – All interviews in Som’s village above Phedi. Som 17 years and his brother, 19 years old. They say the yeti or Bonne Manchie is short, 2-1/2 feet tall, has big feet facing backwards and is covered in black hair. They both said it has three eyes. One in each shoulder and only one on its facial region, in the middle of the forehead. Som explained that if the Bonne Manchie’s shadow passes over a man, the man will die, that is all that is needed. Som also said when the Bonne Manchie sees a woman, it will rape it, not kill it. Som’s sister, 25 years old. The yeti is 3 to 4 feet tall, big feet like mine, size 11 or 44, covered in hair, no color indicated. It has three eyes, two in its face and one in the right shoulder. She said that it kills people but did not say if it kills only man. Ram’s mother-in-law, 68 years old approximately. The Bonne Manchie is short, big feet, facing backwards. She said it has 12 eyes, all over its face, on the back of its head and in its shoulders. Ram’s brother-in-law, 28 years old approximately. He gave no description but said that you could only kill it with a gun. He also said that it would go into the houses and rape women if the men are not around. He said something about the Bonne Manchie’ shadow as well. If the Bonne Manchie’s shadow passes over you, it will make you very sick, not kill you like Som said. Som’s father, 33 years old. Som’s father said he has seen the Bonne Manchie for first hand and here is his account. He was hiking up the hill from Phedi about 1 a.m. going rather quickly because one of his daughters was sick and he was worried about her. As he was walking up the trail, he could hear footsteps in the leaves in the jungle near him. He stopped walking and the footsteps seized as well. When he started up the hill, he could hear the animal in the bushes again. He stopped again and once again the footsteps stopped. Som’s father began to get really worried thinking it was a tiger, so he climbed up the hill even faster. When he reached the top of the hill but was still in the jungle, he stopped again and once again the footstep stopped. Thinking he could out with the animal, he began stomping one foot to make the animal think he walking but to his dismay, the Bonne Manchie did not move forward, it was imitating the father’s actions. The father looked to his left and 5 feet away, he spotted the Bonne Manchie stomping one foot just as the father was. He described the Bonne Manchie as short, 3 feet high, covered in black hair except for the face and it had feet as large as the man’s forearm, about 13 inches long. He said the feet faced backwards and its arms were short, not as long as human’s with hands similar to a man’s, but long 3 to 4 inch nails. The Bonne Manchie had no neck whatsoever and its head is sunk down between the shoulders. He said its face was the same as a man’s, but the eyes are not in the same place. The eyes are positioned one on each side of the head where human’s temple would be. Later on in the discussion after telling the story, he said there was one eye in each shoulder and none on the head, but the original description is as above. Once the father spotted the Bonne Manchie , he said he became so scared that his breathing increased his chest capacity and popped one of the buttons of his shirt. He said he became almost crazy with fright and began screaming at the Bonne Manchie and throwing rocks at it. He said he was at very close range, but none of the rocks hit the Bonne Manchie . Every stone he threw would just go past it. The Bonne Manchie finally went off into the forest and the father ran home to his family. He continued and told me that the Bonne Manchie ‘s face was longer than a man’s and that when it went to the toilet, it was always in great quantities and was very very black. He said that if the Bonne Manchie were to kill a man with his claws, it would not scratch a man like a bear rather it would use its long nails and rip out a chunk of flesh leaving a divet in the arm or leg it had gone for. The father also described a female Bonne Manchie. It is the same, only he said its breasts were really really long, so long that the female needs to carry them in her hands when walking. He said when the female is going to run after something or walk uphill, it throws its breast over its shoulder, then walks or climbs wherever it was going. The males live in the jungle above Phedi while the females live in the jungle across the valley near Sarangkot. Girl at the Namastay Lodge, Pokhara 1 st of April, 1993 15 years old approximately. She was in the jungle with her friend and five other older women cutting wood when they saw the Bonne Manchie . This is about a year ago. She said they saw it walking through the jungle with a dead animal over its shoulder. Her description was half my height, making it 2½ feet tall, all black and hairy with a face like a monkey, but longer, two eyes, ears, nose, mouth like a monkey. They spotted it and it spotted the women and they ran two hours through the jungle back to Pokhara leaving their sandals and axe behind because they were so frightened. ### Snowed In – Day 9 Date: March 26th, 1993 | Country: on the road | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/snowed-in-day-9/ Trekking, Day 9, Jomsom, Nepal – Woke up this morning at 5:45 to get ready for our flight, but when I looked outside, it was blizzarding. The snowflakes were huge and the wind was making the move in a horizontal direction down the street. I was positive no flight was going to be flying down the valley, especially since the sky looked as if it were touching the top of the airport shack. There was 3 inches of snow on the ground and more was coming quicker than ever. I crawled back into bed and then I started to talk to Ram about what he knew about the yeti. We finally got up around 8 or 8:30 and sat around the warming table, drinking tea, and watching the snow blow down the street at high velocity. A couple of hours later, the dude who runs the airport came in the lodge out of the storm and told us that there might not be a chance that we would be leaving for 2 to 3 days. We lounged around the lodge all day and gave the youngest daughter of the hotelier, a lesson in writing cursive Cs as that was her lesson that day, but she would not be going to school. The snow finally stopped and the sun broke through warming everything up a little. We still had the hell wind whistling down the valley though. If the runways dry tomorrow morning, there is a chance we will be able to fly out. ### Down the Mountain to Pokhara – Day 10 Date: March 27th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/down-the-mountain-to-pokhara-day-10/ Trekking, Day 10, Jomsom, Nepal – Woke up this morning at 6 and climbed up the ladder out back up onto the roof to have a look at the runaway. An inch of new snow everywhere. Went back inside and climbed to back into bed, woke up about an hour later and sat outside our lodge in the sun. For the first day in a while it was really clear and the sun was blazing down. This only made the snow covered mountains that much more impressive, so Ram and I took yet more photos. We put the camera away and decided to take a walk down to the runaway to have a look at it and when we got there, we found a fair amount of people just hanging around the airport shack, in case a plane could make it up here. The sun had melted the snow and now the runaway was just a massive wet gravel in weeds rather like a deteriorating parking lodge. We were standing there talking to this other American guy when all of a sudden this air raid siren went off signifying that a plane was arriving. No way, no one was prepared for it and Ram and I went running out of the airport and back to the lodge to grab our packs. Back to the airport, checked our bags and walked out to the runway to wait. The twin-engined propeller plane landed and all 15 of us flying boarded completely filling the small plane. I sat by a window on one side and Ram sat across from me by the other window ready to try this flying thing out. When he first saw the plane, Ram said it was big. I then told him there are airplanes that hold up to 400 people. He just could not believe that one. Our bags were loaded, the door closed, and the engine started. While we were still sitting on the runway with the engines idling, the stewardess crawled up the isle offering each passenger one sweet and two cotton balls to plug your ears during the flight. Once every one had their cotton in place, the plane moved out to the end of the runway, really started those engines up and started our take off. The plane took off and pulled the tightest circle, not very far from the mountains themselves over the valley. Then we were off towards Pokhara. Ram handled the take off well and was content just looking out the window during our flight. We flew below the tops of the Himalayas so I was able to look straight across at them, amazing. I took a few photos out of the plane as well. Our plane landed in Pokhara and we deplaned into the 70-degree weather, still clad in our down jackets and 10 layers of clothing. After a short walk back to my hotel, I said good bye to Ram. Gave him my T-shirt and my gloves and told him I would meet him over at lakeside later. During the trek, I had actually broken my record for days not showering, which previously had been 8 days set in Africa. The record now stood at 10 days in Nepal. I cleaned up, rented a bike, and headed over to the lake where I met Som and Ram hanging out at Jomsom trekking. We chatted for a while and then Som, Ram, and I went to look at this hotel I was going to stay in. As we were heading over to the hotel, I heard this voice yell, “How is it going?” When I looked up, it was Cameron, this kiwi dude we had flown from Cairo to Nairobi with. I could not believe it. That was five months ago, and I remembered they were headed the same direction, but I thought they were miles ahead of us. Cam said, he and Tracy had gotten struck in Africa, specifically Malawi in Zimbabwe. About the same time, Rich and I got stuck in India. I arranged to meet them for dinner, then I went to this hotel to stay in. After looking at the room and leaving a deposit, Som, Ram, and I left to go have a beer, but my bike was gone. We did not notice anyone in the hotel grounds, but the bike definitely was not there. Som said that one of the boys of the hotel proprietor sometimes borrow the bikes left around and that is probably what happened. We went out on the street looking for the bike and after a cursory search, Som assured me the boy would bring my bike back a little later. On that note, we headed to this restaurant to have some beers to celebrate the end of my trek. Ram, Som, and I had two beers each and Som because he is smaller was getting pretty looped. Ram was not far behind and I was a little less than Ram. It was strong beer. We had a great time chatting and after I had paid our 360-rupee bill, $7 and 20 cents, we went looking for the bike again. Ram said he was going to the trekking shop and that he would see me at about 8 or 9 the next morning. Som and I went looking for the bike and I began describing it to him. As an example, I took him over to this bike parked on the side of the road and said, okay this aspect of the bike just like this bike here is the same. I described the bike more and more each time pointing to this bike on the street saying just like this one. It even had a lock and chain wrapped under the seat like the one we were looking at on the street. I guess the beer had really dulled my senses because after my describing the stolen bike and pointing out the similarities with this bike parked on the street, Som finally asked me if this bike was my stolen bike. I pulled out my keys, tried the lock and pop it opened. We had found the bike just parked outside the shop on the side of the road, too lucky. I took my newly acquired bike, said good-bye to Ram, and told him I would see him in the morning before heading back to my hotel to change clothes and meet Tracy and Cameron for dinner. Out to dinner with them and we caught up during the last five months while they were in Africa. They told us the situation in Zaire has gotten worse since we were there and that the overland trucks are not going into the country anymore. They said one of the trucks sort of went missing. Cam also said the situation in Nairobi did not get any better. Everyday at Ma Roches someone had a new horror story. I still have no reservations about leaving Kenya or the Kumuka Safari early. We left the restaurant and as we walked by a local’s place, Ram called out teak-cha to me and I called back “topai kek teak-cha?” “malai teak-cha” was his response. ### Befriending Som Date: March 28th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/befriending-som/ Pokhara, Nepal – I woke up, packed my bag and rode down to lakeside where I had gotten a room at the Namastay Lodge the same complex Som lives in. Met Som and he told me Ram had left early that morning to go home. I guessed his family had run out of rice and he needed to take some up to them. Told Som I would meet him later and after getting my new room sorted out I made the ride up to old Pokhara again to get my trekking photos developed. Dropped the film off, then went to some of the student book stores up there to see if I could get some basic reading books for Ram. He really wanted to learn to read and write English, I could see that whenever we would sit down for our reading lessons while trekking. I ended up getting him four English books for 125 rupees. Back to the photo place two hours later to get the pictures, then I coasted down the mountain to lakeside. Met Som, showed him the photos, then we played carrom board for a while. Som and I went shopping and I bought a whole bunch of the embroidered Nepalese eyes T-shirt. There are the nicest affordable gifts we found so far while traveling, so everyone gets one. They are averaging around 130 rupees each. Som told me he was going to cook a dal bhat that evening in his room, so I did not need to go out to dinner. I rode my bike back to dam side and made the 25-minute walk back to the lake. Managed by some more T-shirts on the return trip, bringing the T-shirt total up to 13 by the time I had retired to bed that evening. Som cooked us a pretty good dinner that evening and a I sort of probed and got more information about Ram from him. He said Ram really needed the money for his family because they were eating millet. Som said it was too gross for him to eat it himself. I gave Ram a total of 1500 rupees on top of the 2300 I paid him for being my guide. I also paid 1260 rupees for his plane ticket and gave him some books and stationery worth 150. Hopefully, it will help him out enough to get him back on his feet. We talked about a lot of things before I gave him the money. He is going to buy new shoes for trekking and we talked about buying two chickens, a hen and a cock, so his family would have eggs to eat when rice ran out. After spending 10 days with him, I could tell he was honest and would use the money in the ways we discussed. We also talked about his joining a trekking agency, so he has steady work as a guide, but he said the agencies take too much of a cut and that is why most people are independent. Som said he was really pleased with the plane ride and the extra help I had given him. So, I am thinking that was the best thing to do. ### Sleeping in a Nepalese Household – Chaitra Dasain Festival Date: March 29th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/sleeping-in-a-nepalese-household-chaitra-dasain-festival/ Pokhara, Nepal – I was going to head to Kathmandu today via mini bus, but there is a national bus strike, maybe tomorrow. I woke up late and lounged around. It was really warm today, so warm that for a minute I thought it was a Sacramento type spring day. Brought two more T-shirts and now I am finished buying clothing. Walked down towards dam side again, then back to the room to figure out which photos I was going to give to Ram. Labeled the photos, ate lunch, and saw Tracy and Cam to arrange our time for dinner again. I met Som later in the afternoon and we played carrom board for a while. In talking with him, I learned that Ram is married to Som’s cousin. I also learned that he and his brother paid two hundred and fifty rupees a month for the room at the hotel. When I told him that it was $5 in my money he started laughing. He could not believe how cheap it was for us to come and travel in Nepal. Met Cam and Tracy for dinner and we set up a few meeting points where we were going to leave each other notes. They are heading through Southeast Asia on their way home, so I am sure we will bump into them again along the way. Kathmandu Guesthouse and the New Mary V, Bangkok were the two stops so far. Said good-bye to them and crashed out for the night. Som woke me up at 6 o’clock this morning so I could catch my bus to Kathmandu. I went over to the bus station and asked if there was going to be a bus today. Som had said the drivers want strike again. The folk at the travel agency said there would not be a bus today and to come back tomorrow morning. The cause for all this chaos is that late last week the Nepalese Government lifted all price subsidies on major foodstuffs such as rice and sugar and on fuel. The government had to lift the subsides to become eligible for some IMF and World Bank funding, as both those organizations oppose any price subsidies at all. With the prices going up on all subsided items namely fuel, the bus companies said they were going to raise ticket prices to account for the jump in the fuel prices. The government transport secretary said they could not raise their prices and would have to just adjust their books to account for the increase. The Communist Party here thought this would be a great issue to cause public outcry upon, so they began a publicity campaign telling all truck and bus drivers to strike nationwide on March 29 th . So 29 th March, no buses or trucks went anywhere throughout the Nepalese Kingdom. They announced yesterday that this strike would continue today also including all taxies, motorbikes, and bicycles in an attempt to paralyze the country. I waited around for the bus for a short time and in talking to other people there as well, I heard there was a roadblock on the outskirts of Pokhara to ensure the prevention of any rebellious truck drivers from getting into the city. In talking to one of the travel agents here, he said the bus owners were waiting for a ruling from the transport minister allowing them to raise their prices. Another rumor I heard was that the transport secretary was out of the country and had to return to Nepal before a decision could be made. A short while later, a lone vehicle equipped with a loudspeaker attached to the roof went driving slowly down Pokhara’s main street. I found Som and asked him to translate and he explained that the man in the car was saying things like, “Give those who do not have jobs, jobs, too bad, Royal Air Nepal is still flying today.” The strike could go on for three days or three weeks, great. On that note, I am headed up to Som’s house for the Chaitra Dasain festival tomorrow, as it does not look like I will be leaving Pokhara anytime soon. Went and changed my bus ticket to April 2 nd , do not know if buses will be going by then, but I am getting a little bit tired of Pokhara, not much to do once you have been in the city for three or four days. Met Som about noon and we rented bikes, then headed off towards his house on the hills above Phedi. He said it was not far and I had no idea how far we were heading, but this seemed like something interesting to do while this strike was on. We rode out of Pokhara on the opposite side of the ridge from Sarangkot, so I was seeing an entirely different set of terrain in the Pokhara Valley. We rode uphill for about two hours, passing through the most amazing sections of outer Pokhara. True Nepalese villages with women cutting the wheat with scythes and the huge covered stacks of dried straw for the animals, great photographic material. Once we had reached the village of Phedi, we left the bikes in this chai stall and began the 30-minute hike to the top of the ridge overlooking the city. Little did I know, I was on another trek and this hike certainly rivaled anything I had done on route to Tatopani. It was all almost straight up, but through the most beautiful jungle, tall moss covered trees with a bed of furns covering the ground everywhere we walked. We hit the crest of the ridge, where Som’s house sits and had to rest for a few minutes before actually going up to his house. His house is one of those made almost entirely of mud with earth beaten floors and thatched roofs, plus it has got the most amazing view looking out over the valley down towards Pokhara. There are terraced wheat fields surrounding their home with about four other houses sitting up on this ridge. Inside Som’s house, there was a fire burning in a pit in the middle of the room and a little bit of smoke around the level of your forehead. Most of the smoke goes up into the thatched peak of the roof, but as smoke does when there is too much, it gets lower and lower to forehead level before pouring out the door. The ceiling had very very low cross beams and I could not stand up fully in any section of the house. Above the cross beams, they had placed some planks and Som told me that two of his sisters sleep up there at night. That explains the plank balanced against the beams in the corner that the girls climb up and down every day. We relaxed in his house resting after the ordeal of getting up there, drinking sugared tea with the added flavor of salt, many Nepalese people like salt and sugar in their tea, a very different tasting cup of tea to say at least. It reminded me of drinking sea water like when it goes gushing down your throat when you are bowled over by a wave. After our rest, we walked across a couple of terraced fields to a neighbor’s house where I was introduced to them. These people had another incredible view from a different angle and from their house we could see Naugdada over on the next ridge across the valley. The place had taken me the entire first day of my trek to walk to. I had no idea I was going so far. The front yard of this man’s house was covered with freshly cut wheat and a woman who appeared to be his mother decorated with ornamental nose rings like a bull was taking the wheat, beating it with this thing that looked like a short sledge hammer to get the husks loose. Then taking the whole lot and putting it in a basket to shake around and make the husks fly out. Cows, chickens, goats, all the houses up here seem to have one or all of the three tied up in their front yard. The man at this house started asking me questions with Som translating. The first one being what my caste or title was. I told him we did not have a caste system and then cleared Som about it. He explained that there were 13 castes in Nepal. His and Ram’s being Gurung, one of the larger ones with a group of people who did not specialize in one trade or profession. In their caste, there are a lot of people, both rich and poor and it is one of the ones in the middle, not a bad one at all. The lowest castes are those of tailors, shoemakers, and porters. I asked a bit more and confirmed that these people are born into their caste and there is no way to change castes, not even by marriage. People also use their caste as their surnames as well. Ram “Gurung”, Som, Kagi “Gurung” interesting. Som left me and went back down the hill to put the bikes in a safer place for the evening leaving me here sitting on the edge of a wheat field overlooking the valley to right. Som’s entire family is coming up here for the festival and Ram and his wife may be coming up here as well. Finally figured out how those two are related. Ram married Som’s cousin. Tomorrow is the festival and we are going to the market to see some goats and buffaloes sacrificed. It should be really interesting, gruesome but interesting. Of all the places I have visited so far, I am beginning to think Nepal is my favorite. Right below is Malawi, then Zimbabwe. The people are so friendly and it is pretty together with their politics and tourism. If I managed to find work in Hong Kong, this would be my first return destination. When we first arrived up here, we went to Som’s friend’s house and the woman there mentioned to Som that she remembered the time she brought a French couple up here, and I guess the man did not like his dal bhat because he literally tossed it aside. That couple was taken back to Pokhara the same evening. “Bola manchi”, crazy man was the woman’s response. Som is a lively 17 year old not too unlike myself at that age and I met him while trekking. It was great of him to invite me up here to experience this festival the Nepalese way. How I keep hitting these festivals at the right time and hooking up with locals who are willing to show me how they really celebrate is so amazing. I would love to show Ram and Som America for 10 days, some in Sacramento, some in San Francisco. Ram could not believe there were films shown on international flights, and I described how large an American supermarket was to Som and he had a hard time believing it. It would blow their minds and I would love to see their reactions. Give me five years and I will see if can afford it. Som returned and we sat in his house eating rice and vegetables and this really amazing pumpkin soup for dinner. Som has got three sisters, one 25 who was doing all the cooking and one 19-year-old brother. His family is more than cordial and even though I speak pidgin Nepalese, there was not really a language barrier because they are really patient and with Som’s help to get their point across. We were exhausted from our ride up here, so everyone bedded down to sleep shortly after dark. Sleeping at Som’s house was a real experience. His mother went outside and brought in the mother and baby goats and tied them to a post in one corner of the room. The hen, the cock, and five chickens were all under a basket not too far from the goats and Som’s mother laid down a mat in front of this mini farmyard to go to sleep. The girls climb to their plank up to their bunk rather smoke yard, imagine above the fire. Som’s other sisters laid down on another mat, Som and I in one bed, Som’s grandmother in another corner, and Som’s father and cousin in the other bed. It was a real treat being able to see how these people live. ### Chaitra Dasain on a Nepalese Homestead Date: March 31st, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/chaitra-dasain-on-a-nepalese-homestead/ Som’s house above Phedi, Nepal – God only knows what time it was when the rooster in Som’s house decided to start crowing, but the sun was nowhere neat being up. I really wanted to kill it as it was only about four feet away cock-a-doodle doing for half an hour or so. A short while later, Som’s family was all awake and when his grandmother opened the door from my bed, I could see the sky over the hill across the valley turning that pink-red color just as the sun was coming up. We got up at 5:45. The entire family was already awake and had our morning tea. About an hour later, Som and I went to go out over the top of the ridge behind his house to buy some sugar for his family. This was another major hike as the ridge behind his house is twice the size of the one we climbed to get to his house in the first place. After another 30-minute climb up of this second ridge, we looked down at Phedi and it looked like it would from an airplane, so small and so far down. We climbed over the top of the ridge, and there were yet another breathtaking view of Annapurna and Machha Puchhre rising up over the next valley. This view was better than any I had seen up near Jomsom or Pokhara because the sky was clear and blue and we were much closer to these mountains than before, so imposing and so beautiful. Of course, I had left my camera down at Som’s house, so no photos were taken. We walked down the backside of this ridge through the houses scattered along the side of the hill and stopped at what appeared to be someone’s home to buy some sugar. His house doubled as his shop and Som had to wake the man up and tell him to get us some sugar which was stored in an old petrol can. Met Som’s brother over on that side and then we headed back to Som’s house to give his sister her cooking supplies. On the way back, we stopped at Ram’s in-law’s house and what you know he was there. He had come up from Pokhara that morning when he heard that Som and I had gone to the mountains. He came up as well with his brother-in-law. We hung around Ram’s relative’s house in the sun for a few hours while his brother-in-law got ready for the festival. Today was the first day of Chaitra Dasain, festival held twice a year honoring the Nepalese goddess, Durga. This festival was actually a smaller version of the Dasain held in January and February every year and is the largest in the country. The goddess Durga fought in one over the forces of evil described in the form of a buffalo in their folklore. So many buffalo and goats are sacrificed during both these festivals in the goddess’ honor. Hopefully, we would see a buffalo lose its head today over in the market. At about 12:30, everyone was ready; me, Som, Ram, and three others and we headed back up the ridge with the incredible view of the mountains on route to the market. We stopped in at a few people’s houses along the way, and I guess the boys found out from these people that not many people were going to the market today. Instead, we made our way down the volleyball court at the local schoolyard. The court sat on one of those narrow terraces cut into the side of the mountain and played volleyball for a while. From the court, we could look up to the top of the ridge and see a white temple structure up there. I could hear the Nepalese blowing this long horn, the sound echoing across the valley signifying they were about to slay another buffalo, very cool. We finished playing the game and headed back over to the top to Som’s house to help make dinner, but along the way, we came across a family outside their house who had just finished sacrificing their buffalo. The body of the buffalo was sitting in the path decapitated with the blood flowing from the neck over the edge of the terrace and down into the field below. The buffalo head was sitting over near the porch of the house, eyes still open and glassy like it never knew what hit it. Some told me that they were supposed to kill the buffalo with one cut of the axe or sword but sometimes it took two or three hits to actually get the head to come off. After seeing this buffalo carcass in the path, I think it was quite all right that I did not get to see the killing first hand. It already reminds me of the slaughtering of the cattle in Uganda a little too much. Back to Ram’s in-laws to say good-bye to him for the evening and head up to Som’s house for dinner. As we were climbing up the terraced field up to his house, we could hear all the women outside his house screaming at something and when the house came into view, we could see a man in a red shirt being pushed down the path in front of Som’s house by another Nepalese guy. The man in the red shirt had obviously been drinking too much Roxi, local wine celebrating the festival and was just being a typical public drunk. One old man, one of Som’s neighbors who also had his fair share of Roxi picked up a large tree branch around when Som’s sister held him back drunk on the head with it. The crazy man in the red shirt got pushed along the path toward his house as all the women in Som’s house continually screamed at him. All other men came out of their houses and started to assist forcefully the drunk down the path. The crazy man was screaming and yelling away and once he was down the path where Som’s family could not see him, they climbed down the terraced fields to scream at him some more. Being the only person in a five mile radius with fair skin and blonde hair, I stayed in the background as not to attract the drunk’s attention. I like the women scream at the drunk and went back to Ram’s in-laws where I got to meet his wife and two sons. Good to see them since I had heard so much about them. The drunk moved on and I bid Ram farewell until the next morning. Up at Som’s house, we had the traditional, the same dinner of rice, dal, and cooked buffalo meat, fresh and once the dinner was over, they started cooking this bread they make only for this festival. It is a rice flour base, a little sugar, and deep fried in buffalo fat. Som’s sister made the first one and when it was done cooking, she handed it to her father who broke it into four pieces and through one piece into each corner of the room as an offering to Durga. Once that was finished, it was an all you can eat fest of rice, roti. Som’s entire family and I ate and ate and ate this bread for almost two hour solid. His sister was continuing to make the bread unrelentlessly. Som’s father and uncle were well into the homemade wine and smoking the chillum but they continued to eat. When we were all chock a block full, the final rice roti was made and everyone had to have one bite of the last bread as it was the final one. On that note, Som and I climbed into bed as his father prepared the next course. Next course – We started eating at 5:30 and it was now 9:30. His father prepared some rice they had grown themselves and served a bit to everyone in the room. It was sweetened with sugar as a dessert and Som told me they believed this was special rice that would cure whatever ailments you might have. I could only eat about half of what they served me and after assessing the amount of rice left on everyone’s plates, it seemed to be the norm. Everyone was full and tired of eating I expect. So, the once the goats were to their post in the corner, everyone hit the sac and this was the Chaitra Dasain. This festival is not a real public festival that has a lot that tourists can see. It is more a low-key family festival and I felt lucky to have been a part of it with Som’s family. Throughout the day as we had been walking around, I was using Som as my interpreter to ask different people about the Bonne Manchie to see what other versions of the tail there are. The different accounts and descriptions of the beast are to follow. Som’s father had a first hand citing for me to record. Bonne Manchie, the Nepali jungle man also known as the Yeti. ### Final Day in Pokhara Date: April 1st, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/final-day-in-pokhara/ Som’s House Above Phedi, Nepal – The bloody rooster woke us up at half past four again and by 6:15 everyone was up and starting their daily duties. Som and I had tea with his family, then we bid them farewell and I thanked them heartily for such a nice time. We had to make an early departure and get back to Pokhara as not to be charged another day’s rental on our bikes. We hiked down to Phedi, got our bikes out of storeage and made the one and a half hour 15 km fide back to Pokhara. Thankfully it was 90% downhill so little effort was needed riding that early in the morning. We returned the bikes, had tea and rolls for breakfast then I crashed out at 9:00 a.m. exhausted from the previous two days. Awoke at 1:00 p.m. and got some food then hung out with Ram for a while. There are absolutely no tourists in Pokhara now, partly due to the bus strike, and partly because tourism’s just down so it was a lazy day around town. Saw Som and his sister at the lodge we were staying at and chatted with them for a while. No power tonight so “nothing to do Kathmandu.” The buses are running again and I’m booked on the 6:30 a.m. bus to Kathmandu tomorrow – finally. With only a month’s Nepalese visa I’ve seemed to have no problem spending three weeks of my time in Pokhara. Made some good friends in the process, but I think a lack of time in the country warrants a second visit next year. ### Durbar Square Kathmandu Date: April 2nd, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/durbar-square-kathmandu/ Pokhara to Kathmandu, Nepal – Got up at 5.30 a.m. and finished packing my bag. I was finally leaving Pokhara for Kathmandu. Met both Som and Ram who hung around and chatted to me until my mini bus left. When the bus finally pulled up, I said my final farewells to the boys. I know I will make it back there and see them again some day. Had a rather uneventful bus ride to Kathmandu and arrived in the capital city in the mid afternoon. Hired a bicycle rickshaw to take me to the Thamel section of town, the section where all the travelers hang out. Found a hotel no problem, but it was expensive, 250 rupees a night, but it had its own bathroom with 24-hour hot water, worth the splurge for one night. Once I had put my bags away, it was time for some food and a look at the real Kathmandu, not the tourist section of the city I was staying in. Met Mike Gavin this journalist I trekked on and off with for a few days and he gave me his address in Hong Kong to look him up in a couple of weeks. Grabbed a bite to eat, then headed towards Durbar Square, the center of old Kathmandu. Kathmandu is a bustling city with cars, rickshaws, bicycles, and pollution all flowing up and down the ancient narrow streets. Made it to Durbar Square and that is when it hit me. This was the Kathmandu people usually talked about. Durbar Square is literally surrounded by temples. It almost seems like they were constructed in a haphazard mish-mash fashion all over the Square and outlying areas. All that I can see are the towers of temples over the Square, so cool and so bizarre. I had a walk around the Square and what you know just my luck another festival was starting. I noticed the wooden cart with the 15-feet high Christmas tree on it, decorated I might add, being prepared to be pulled through the Square and celebration of the Seto Machhendranath festival. I walked around taking pictures and eventually ended up taking a seat on the Trailokya Mohan Narayan “Vishnu” temple facing the Square waiting for the festivities to begin. It turned out to be a non-event with the military men marching down the street, playing music followed by the Christmas tree chariot being dragged along by about 50 kids. No denying the chariot was not impressive. One of its wheels was taller than I was and people sitting near me were tossing coins at it as it passed, but it definitely was not as exciting as animal sacrifice or anything like that. Once the chariot had passed, the Square emptied of people so I could wander around at my leisure checking out the ornately carved rafters under each temple’s eves. Many of the temples had some definitely erotic carvings, so I took half a dozen photos to show people at home. Once I had had a decent look around the Square, I walked through the narrow streets of Nepal to get a feel for the city before heading back to my hotel to use that hot shower I was paying for. Went down to the Central Telegraph Office around 8 p.m. assuming they had AT&T direct and was told there was no collect call facility to the States from Nepal. On top of it, many of the places here charge you 10 rupees per minute for a collect call anyway. So you are paying for the call twice. Guess I will be calling the folks from Hong Kong then. Out to dinner at one of the famed Thamel restaurants, the Four Seasons, and ended up sharing this table with a British girl from London. Had a great time chatting away to her for the next two and half hours while enjoying the best pizza and beer since I have left America. I do not know who came here and taught the Nepalese how to cook, but they did a hell of a job. ### Swayambhunath, aka the Monkey Temple Date: April 3rd, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/swayambhunath-aka-the-monkey-temple/ Kathmandu, Nepal – Woke up, used my hot shower, then checked out of my hotel and moved to the hotel Potala around to the corner across from KC’s Restaurant, a little cheaper with a better view and a roof deck. Once I got and settled in, I grabbed my camera and water bottle and embarked on the 2-kilometer journey out of the city to the Swayambhunath, aka the Monkey Temple. It was a nice walk through the Kathmandu back streets, save the hell climb up a flight of stairs virtually straight up. Finally reached the temple and stupa itself. The temple consists of the main stupa, which is a solid white concrete dome with a very tall gold block type structure on top of it. The block has the Buddha’s all seeing eyes painted on each side of it along with the teeka or third eye symbolized as a dot above the other two regular eyes. The teeka symbolizes the Buddha’s clairvoyant powers. Below the eyes is a squiggle mark, which is actually the symbol for a Nepalese numeral one its significance being unity. Up above the block with the eyes are the 13 gold rings, each getting smaller, making the top of the structure looks similar to a church steeple. Each of the rings signifies one of the 13 degrees of knowledge and 13 steps that must be taken to reach Nirvana. Nirvana is represented by the umbrella at the top of the steeple. Around the base of the stupa are what seemed to be a couple of hundred prayer wheels encircling the entire structure. As the worshippers would come up the stairs, they would pray at this huge brassed colored Dorje or symbol for the great thunderbolt, then ring this huge bell next to it, which was supposed to symbolize the sound of thunder. They would then move forward and walk always clockwise around the stupa, spinning each and every prayer wheel. I mentioned earlier I thought the prayer wheels were Tibetan, actually that they are just part of the Buddhist religion, each with the words Om Mani Padme Hum inscribed on it plus to add to the day core, there were streams of what appear to be different colored flags tied to the spire of the stupa flowing down and out over the whole of the complex. Upon further inspection, the flags were actually painted with the words and symbols of different Buddhist prayers called Mantras. The people here believe that when the prayer wheel is spinning or the flag fluttering in the wind, the prayer is being said. I wandered around the Swayambhunath complex for a while looking at the smaller temples and taking almost a roll of photos. The alternate name of this place is the Monkey Temple and with just cause for there are literally tons of monkeys crawling all over the stupa and smaller statues surrounding plus the locals bring food to feed them so whenever there is people around, there are tons of monkeys. After spending a while at the stupa, I thought it was time to move on. I went by a nearby Gompa or Tibetan Buddhist monastery to have a look around and came across a prayer wheel that must have been about 10 feet high, not one of the more notable sites around Kathmandu. Headed back to the city to grab a bite to eat and have a wander around the Durbar Square again, as I do not think I did it justice the first time. Lunched on Freak Street, then looked at the temples in the Square more closely this time. As I was looking up into the eves at some carvings, I noticed the face of a tourist peering out of the uppermost window of the temple looking tower behind. I had a walk around this Square looking for an entrance to this place and eventually found it in the Nasal Chowk, the dancing courtyard of the old royal palace. The courtyard had a statue of a dancing Shiva in it, hence the name, and the courtyard was surrounded by a very European looking white building of the old palace, which is now a museum holding artifacts from the previous king’s reign. In each corner of the courtyard was a huge tower, the largest one the Basantapur being the one accessible to the tourists. I had a wander through the king’s museum, which was really boring since it is an exhibit for Nepalese people and nothing is in English. Then headed over to the tower and climbed the narrow staircases to the top to get a good view of the Kathmandu. After my view, I wandered around the Square some more looking at the Tibetan crafts when I remembered I needed to change money. Since this was Saturday, the Nepalese equivalent of Sunday in Britain, everything was closed. I started walking where I knew there were black-market money changers, but to my surprise they all had the day off. The previous day I could have used a baseball bat to beat the buggers off, but during my 20-minute walk back to Thamel, not one money changer approached me. Of course I could not find one when I needed one. Dropped off a note for Rich at the Kathmandu Guest House and priced some duffel bags to hold all the crap I had purchased so far before heading to the hotel to crash out. ### Girls in a Temple Date: April 4th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/girls-in-a-temple/ Kathmandu to Patan, Nepal – Walked around Kathmandu this morning looking for yet another hotel because the one I am in is too expensive. Did find a room at my mom’s hotel f or 80 rupees, more my style, grabbed breakfast, then picked up my photos that I had taken the day before at the stupa. Those photos were awesome. I am getting better at it, but still need to learn what the difference an 11 and a 5.8 F-stop will do time I guess. Headed through the craziness of the market street over to the bus stop, jumped on a bus, which was uncrowded, an amazing thing for Nepal and rode the 15 minutes out to Patan, a city to the south that is divided from Kathmandu only by a river. Patan is just like Kathmandu in architectural style and feel, but the difference is there are not tons of people in cars everywhere, a nice change. Started walking towards Durbar Square, yes there is one in Patan as well, but managed to find the Golden Temple down at side street instead. Of course, I had gotten lost and just happened to stumble on to this temple, but I found it all the same. Had a look at it, but could not get as close as I would have liked for all the leather articles are banned in the inner courtyard and when your money belt is made of leather, it prevents you from doing such things. From there it was to Durbar Square, which is literally jam-packed with temples and Tibetan crafts salesmen wherever you looked. There were not that many tourists here, so it was a much nicer environment. I wandered around the Square looking at the temples, but after seeing so many in India, they are all beginning to look the same. In addition, you are not allowed to enter any of the temples, so there is no way for you to differentiate between them, they all look very similar. Most are the three to five tiered Nepalese style with a few of the Hindu/Ranakpur Indian type temples interspersed here and there. After looking at the temples and walked around the city, I found a Buddhist monastery, which was actually very impressive. The courtyard of this structure, which is both a temple and a monastery, was packed with all sorts of intricate metal sculptures. There were also a few children running around as well. After my look around, I went through more back streets back to the bus station for my return journey to the Kathmandu. Rested at the hotel a bit, then ventured out to do a bit of shopping. I went into one of the numerous shops, which sell those strong cotton woven duffel bags. I needed to buy one due to the sheer quantity of stuff I purchased in the Nepal. I needed a separate bag to contain it all in to be shipped back from Bangkok. I went into the shop knowing I would not pay more than 200 rupees for the largest one. The shopkeeper and I began the bargaining process and no more than 5 minutes later, I was leaving the shop with my new duffel. The price started at 350, I was not in the mood to play the bargaining game. The shopkeeper’s comment was that I was a quick man to bargain with. It was getting dark, so I bought some food for dinner and upon returning to my hotel, I noticed they had the satellite feed from Hong Kong broadcasting the North Carolina versus Kansas NCAA quarter final basketball tournament. I was estatic and immediately glued my butt down on to the couch to watch the game. Too bad I was changing hotels the next day. I might be able to see the final game. ### Reuniting with Rich Date: April 5th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/reuniting-with-rich/ Kathmandu, Nepal – Changed hotels yet again because the last hotel had too many Israelis in it. After living in London and seeing the way different nationalities traveled, I used to think the Americans and Australians were bad. Israelis are the worst to be around. They are louder and more demanding than Americans if you can believe that is possible and they are so obnoxious when they are together in one big group, which is all the time. You never meet one Israeli, they only come in groups of 10 or more. Anyway, changed hotels, then headed to the mini van stop to try and get out to the Bodhnath, the largest stupa in the Kathmandu Valley. Got on the mini van and was told yes it would go out where I was headed. 30 minutes later, we were at the end of the line and they were telling me to get out, no stupa inside. I was told to transfer mini vans and after I boarded the second vehicle reconfirming that it was headed to the Bodhnath, I found myself back in Kathmandu 30 minutes later, so I had been sheisted for a total of 4 rupees and one hour of my time, big deal, I had time to kill. I was not expecting Rich for at least 4 or 5 more days, plenty of time to see this thing. Went restaurant hopping, eating a meal at each during the afternoon. Then I decided it was time to take down the original note I had left for Rich and put the newly revised one with my new hotel location in its place. Got over to the Kathmandu Guest House message board, but the note for Rich was gone. That could only mean he had arrived in Kathmandu already. Left him a second note telling where to meet, then went looking around Thamel in the used bookstores, the easiest place it would be to find Rich. No such luck, so I headed back to the message board about an hour later to find him standing there holding my second note looking at it incredulously. He could not believe I had left him two notes in the three hours he had spent in Kathmandu so far. We went out for dinner and beer to celebrate his birthday and catch up on each other’s escapades over the last three weeks. It turns out the snow was really bad on his side of the mountain as well, so bad that he could not get over the pass and he walked back to Pokhara down the same side. ### Loving Bhaktapur Date: April 7th, 1993 | Country: Nepal | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/loving-bhaktapur/ 6 th April 1993, Kathmandu – I took Rich on a walking tour of the city, Durbar Square, etc. and we stumbled across the US embassy library, so we popped in there for a couple of hours to catch up on current events at home. On our way back to the hotel, we stopped by one of the shirt embroidery shops and placed an order for the shirt we were having made, which would commemorate our trip as a whole. The front had 22 flags embroided on it, one for each country we were visiting and the back had a map of the world on it. Order those for the exorbitant amount of 750 rupees, $15, then cruised around Thamel that evening, book shopping. 7 th April 193, Kathmandu to Bhaktapur – Thought we would head out to Bhaktapur today to have a look but before our departure, we ordered these red woolen pullovers with cotton lining for 550 rupees each. Jumped on the Nepalese version of a matatu out to Bhaktapur, but we got off way too early in the middle of nowhere and ended up walking quite a bit. It was an interesting walk, though. Instead of weeds growing on the side of the road, it was marijuana plants, tons of them. We walked a bit longer but tired of that quickly and haled down the first minivan going towards our destination. Finally arrived in Bhaktapur and wandered around yet another Square named Durbar. Looked at the temples, which all looked the same, then sat in the square where Rich checked out the art museum. While sitting out there, I met a Nepalese boy who must have been about nine who sat there and we spoke Nepalese to each other. Rather he spoke Nepalese to me and I tried to speak Nepalese back to him using my limited vocabulary. We wandered around the city, which I much preferred to Kathmandu because it is 85% pedestrian streets, so you get that feeling that this is what the city really is like. Wandered to another square where the largest temple in Kathmandu valley stands. The square was teeming with small children playing and I took many photographs of them. After a couple of hours of walking, we headed back to Kathmandu to see if our flag shirts were ready. The man making the shirt held up the one that was finished and both Rich and I were blown away at how awesome it looked. This man knew what he was doing and it was worth every cent. We rested, then went out drinking for happy hour on one of the various rooftop bars. We had many-many San Miguels and ended up talking to a bunch of Californians. Two were this couple from Los Angeles, total southern California people who both work for the various TV production companies. The third was a girl named Christine Smith, who had been living in the Berkeley Hills, but her house burned down in the great Oakland fire, so she was using her federal money to travel. She said the money was supposed to be used to replace her belongings and she figured since a lot of her stuff came from other countries, she was justified in using the money to travel and replace her possessions per the government’s request. Went out for a late dinner and stumbled back to the room shortly after that. ### Local Pool Tournament Against the Whiteys Date: May 23rd, 1993 | Country: Indonesia | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/local-pool-tournament-against-the-whiteys/ We’d tried to leave Brastagi the day before but couldn’t muster the energy, so we’re really leaving today. We were up at 8:30 a.m. because the church next door believed in worshipping the lord very early and very loudly to music. I thought the organist and choir were downstairs in the lobby or our losmen. Put ourselves together and got the 11:30 a.m. (whoops!) bemo to the nearby city of Kabanjahe. Transferred to a bus which we were told was going to the small town of Haranggaol on the northern tip of Lake Toba. After a couple of hours the bus dropped us off in this po-dunk town one block long where we had to transfer to yet another minivan the rest of the way to Haranggaol. Indonesian rubber time wins again, as we had to wait over an hour for there to be enough people to justify leaving for our destination. Off we went and thirty minutes later we crested the top of the crater which forms Lake Toba. Toba’s the largest lake in South East Asia, created from a massive volcanic eruption. A second eruption formed Samosir Island in the middle of the lake, where most of the losmen and towns are. We had spectacular views of the lake during our thirty minute descent – the thing is definitely larger than Lake Tahoe without any problem. Arrived in the small town of Haranggaol and got a room at a hotel on the water. When we arrived at the hotel the reminder of the rooms were being rented out by this family from Medan who were celebrating a birthday on the Lake for the day. They welcomed us and had us sit down at their table to chat. They gave us satay – roasted goat with peanut sauce, tea, and birthday cake. I found out it’s the Batak people’s custom to offer whatever food they’ve got around to anyone who joins them. We chatted with this family for a couple of hours and got invited to their home for dinner if we made it back to Medan. The family headed back to their city and Rich and I wandered through the town. It was getting dark so we had food at one of the locals joints – the best coconut fish curry ever – then wandered down the street in the dark. We wandered by this pool hall with all the teens hanging around outside. One of them called us over and asked if we wanted to play pool. With nothing better to do we accepted and the locals took the cover off the single pool table for us. Two of the local dudes paired up and said they’d play doubles against us. We readily accepted the challenge and played five games against them. Not much goes on in Haranggaol, so when two whiteys are playing the locals at pool, word travels fast. Mothers with children, old men and random people came into the pool hall to watch us play the Indonesians. The room got more and more crowded with each passing game and it got to the point where the crowd would emit noises based on the shot at hand. I remember it was my final shot on the eight ball and the crowd was rooting for us, so when I missed the shot there was an audible groan from some members of the crowd. Our competitors sank a couple of balls then Rich sank our final shot winning us the game. The crowd chatted among themselves while we were raking the balls for the next game, then just as in tennis they became quiet as the pool queue was put into play. At the end of it all Rich and I won 3-2 and when it was time to ante up for the Rs300 games, our competitors said we were to pay for the full five games. We said no, they’d challenged us and we’d pay for the two games we’d lost. The locals were behind us and when we exited I could hear the chattering and muffled laughter of the spectators giving our challengers a hard time about being beaten by the whiteys, and having to pay for the games they lost. ### Haranggaol to Samosir Island, Sumatra Date: May 24th, 1993 | Country: Indonesia | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/haranggaol-to-samosir-island-sumatra/ Today was market day in Haranggaol and the bi-weekly boat to Samosir Island was going across the lake today when the market was finished. We walked down to the market – once again the only foreigners and the entire marketplace was teeming with people. We made our way through the masses of people – about half of them older Indonesian women with the red betel nut and tobacco chew hanging out of their mouths. People were selling huge volumes of produce, chickens, coy, and fresh meat from the butcher who was chopping up a pig on the spot. We watched a charlatan doctor (complete with a microphone hooked up to a car battery) try to cure a man with a bum leg in front of the crowd of locals who’d gathered. They had this man who used one crutch to walk on drink what looked like a shot of orange juice, then the quack told the man to take a few steps forward. The man hesitated, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it, so noticing the fear on the man’s face the quack doctor had him sit down and take another shot of O.J.. I didn’t wait around for the main event – I felt bad for the man with the crutch. I had the flu so I headed back to the room to sleep for a few hours; this was the second time in seven months I’d been really sick. Slept a while then woke up, grabbed my pack and headed to the door to catch the boat to Samosir. Got to the boat and no matter how loud we yelled and ranted on they wouldn’t give us the local price of Rs1000 across the lake; they screwed us for Rs2500 each – 800 of which goes to the tourist office wench’s pocket. This boat was like a Malawian local bus in that is stopped at each and every person’s house on the mainland side of the lake before actually crossing the thing to Samosir Island. We had some absolutely marvelous views of the lake, the island and surrounding countryside. We saw waterfalls coming down the side of the mountain above the three house village where we were stopping. Took loads of photos of village life on the lake. The boat finally stopped at Shangri-La, our stop, about four hours later and when it docked all it did was stick the bow of the boat into the sand and lower a chicken plank over the water for us to walk across. With my 14 kilo pack on I’d have probably gone into the drink so I went for a flying leap and made it. Shangri-La is about seven kilometres north of the main settlements on the island and consists solely of a restaurant and ten large bungalows. The place is run by a man named Pome who greeted us and ushered us into the restaurant for our complimentary banana shake. He gave us this great welcoming, amps, etc., then took us to our Rs5000 bungalow. The thing was huge – two huge beds with nightstand, two chairs and table below the bay window facing the lake, a full closet, full bathroom and another table the size of a small dining room set with two chairs. Perfect. We vegged out then went to dinner and met some of the other people staying there. We met yet two more Californians, Gayle and Jen (from Davis) who’d been living there for two weeks waiting for their friends. One celebratory beer for making it there then off to bed. ### Dahab to Cairo Date: November 11, 1993 | Country: Egypt | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/dahab-to-cairo/ We were up at 6:15 this morning to pack our stuff in preparation for the eight hour hell bus ride across the Sinai to Cairo. We walked out into the main intersection of the village and as we were looking for a cab to the bus station we found a cabby who said he’s take us all the way to Cairo for the same price as the bus, but in five hours instead of eight. We agreed and after finding three more people (two Canadian guys and a Danish girl) we piled into his mini-wagon and headed off towards Cairo. We had a laugh about the fact that we were able to find a taxi willing to drive us over 300 miles for five hours. I don’t know what that’s called, but I don’t think it’s a taxi! Our driver borrowed one of the Danish girl’s cassettes and once he’d heard the song “Rhythm is a Dancer” he rewound the song and turned on his amplifier so the car would really thump. There we were racing through the desert with this European music thumping out the windows like we were a group of deaf rappers or something. The Sinai is completely devoid of all life, and as we were getting closer to the Suez canal I saw the wreckage of what appeared to be tanks which had been destroyed by either war games or the Egyptian Israeli war in 1967. {CHECK DATE} Just before the tunnel going under the Suez we were stopped at a police checkpoint. They asked us for our passports, which they took and spread out across the hood of the car and began looking at them. They flipped through the pages, reading the entry and exit stamps for interest’s sakes. After a while our cab driver joined the cops in flipping through the travel documents. When they got to Rich’s passport the cop walked over to the car with Rich’s passport, looked at Rich, then pointed to the passport picture with a questioning look on his face. He then asked Rich if this was his passport – I guess the two week old beard Rich had been growing really confused him. Rich gave an affirmative answer and the police moved back to the hood of the car to check out some more passports. It seemed the entire purpose of the check point was to entertain the cops who sit there all day long. They stopped us, had a giggle at our passport photos and then sent us on our way. We finally made it to Cairo where Rich and I tried to book a flight out of Egypt that evening, but there weren’t any flights to Nairobi for two days. We checked into the Hotel des Roses (which was definitely nothing special for the price) and dumped our bags. Sarah had a few hours in Cairo before she had to fly out to London. We got a cab out to the bazaar again where Sarah bought two large copper pots for US$80. She figured she could ship them back in her tea chests. We made it back to Tahir Square where Sarah used the rest of her Egyptian money to but us a bottle of rum to keep us busy in Cairo for the next couple of days. The time finally came and we walked Sarah down and hailed her a cab to the airport. I bid her farewell and told her I’d look forward to seeing her in New Zealand. She and I had a brilliant time in London and an even better time in Egypt – we always seem to have the most fun when we’re together. As I’ve said before there are a few images which stands out in my mind more than others, and as I sit here writing this on November 11, 1993 I will never forget the image of Sarah getting into her cab and looking over her shoulder to smile good-bye to me as she climbed in. After Sarah had headed off to the airport Rich and I sat out on our balcony looking across downtown Cairo, drinking cocktails and relaxing. ### Istanbul to London Date: October 21st, 1995 | Country: Türkiye | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/istanbul-to-london/ There I was standing in the middle of the Istanbul airport actually getting the smallest degree of pleasure from having just been transformed from a regular traveler to someone who was totally destitute – destitute as someone can be with a Chap Stick, an Istanbul city bus ticket and 90,000 lira (90c) in his pocket. Thirty seconds before, one of my bags containing my Irish passport, plane ticket from London to the States, all my money and credit cards had been stolen from one of the airport x-ray machines leaving me with my U.S. passport and a plane ticket for a flight to London, leaving in 30 minutes, that I still hadn’t checked in for. Good thing I pulled those two items out of my bag before sending it through the not so secure security checkpoint entering the airport. Why is it every time there’s a massive crowd of people the ringleaders of the establishment (be it a stadium, passenger train or airport) always seem to make it as difficult and inefficient as possible. The Istanbul airport was no exception. I’d been in Istanbul for the past week enjoying my time in this city that straddles Europe and Asia. The city is totally beautiful and very Western so I was at ease travelling around – the best parts of the trip were my journeys by bus up the Bosphorus to the suburbs. It looked like the south of France or the Italian riveria with the cobblestoned streets lined with cafes facing the water. There were small harbours where the locals docked their sailboats after a jaunt up to the Black Sea. This was not what I’d expected from Istanbul at all. This morning I boarded my bus to the airport and arrived there at seven thirty thinking I’d have pleanty of time for my 9:15 flight. If I’d looked at my ticket I would have noticed the 9:15 flight was coming to Isatnbul not leaving – my flight was departing in one hour at 8:30 a.m. There were masses of people trying to enter the airport but ALL travellers must have their bags x-rayed and pass through a metal detector before checking in for their flights. I was a little nervous that I wouldn’t make my flight but I had an hour so I joined the rugby scrum to make my way towards the x-ray machines. There were families of ten moving around like small gangs making it increasingly difficult for me to make any decent progress. I had my large backpack and my daypack that held my camera, journal of the trip and all other important items, this daypack which rarely left my hands. I made it to the metal detector, threw my large pack through then stepped up to the detector, ready to literally throw my daypack onto the x-ray machine, walk through and retrieve the daypack on the other side before anyone could get to it. The luggage was pouring out of the machine on the other side into a huge pile that everyone was crowded around like they were giving away free money. I stepped up to the metal detector and the policeman patted me down and found my leather waist pouch. “X-ray”, he said pointing to the machine. “No.” was my response an I opened up my pouch and showed him there was nothing more dangerous than an Irish passport, et al inside. “X-ray.” “NO.” “X-ray” was the third response I received – this man wasn’t going to let me into the airport unless I conceded to put my leather waist pouch through the machine. I now had 35 minutes to try to make my flight so in the interest of time I took off the waist pouch put it inside my daypack and put the daypack on the x-ray machine. When I turned around to go through the detector one of those roaming families with eight members had moved in and were now crowding around the metal detector, giving me looks like there was no chance I was going to to get through until they were done. It took more than a few minutes for them to clear the security checkpoint, mainly due to the approximately 70 bangles each of the women was wearing on their arms. The sheer volume of silver kept setting the machine off and when instructed how to walk through the machine so it wouldn’t beep they never seem to get it right until the fifteenth try. I finally stepped through the machine and joined the crowd to retrieve my luggage where I immediately ### Two Mice, A Bird and a Thai Vagina Date: October 17th, 1997 | Country: Thailand | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/two-mice-a-bird-and-a-thai-vagina/ Phuket , Thailand – HK-BKK flight attendant hit on me shamelessly, and asked me for coffee up in business class. Arrive in BKK after 16 hours 45min of flying and needed a drink immediately. Ashley met me at the door and asked me if I’d like a bottle of champagne. Day 2 – BKK – Chartered a boat through the canals of Bkk. Met a Doctor who said there’d be fireworks at this temple that night. Rest in hotel and watched most amazing thunderstorm with lightnnig appearing to hit the tops of the buildings in BKK. THat night we looked for the temple, but it turned out to be a funeral (or we’d gotten the wrong temple) so we got a tuk tuk to drive us to – somewhere – where we had a chinese dinner then got a cab to Patpong. Went to bars on our “cultural training” mission to see the hookers, pea shooter, ping pong balls (in training as she kept fucking it up), razorblades, then Ashley had had enough. Ash and I made it to Phuket and had to hide behind the forex booth for all the Sybase people to leave so we could rent a jeep. Drove across the island to the Sheraton, but it took us a few hours as we kept getting lost and we’d stop in these markets to have a wander. Found this woman who made the best home made spring rolls. Made it to the Sheraton which was too damned expensive (given that the Bhat had fallen and the room was still expensive). We headed off to Phuket City where the conference was taking place wher Ash negotiated us an executive suite for 6000 – 40% off. We were led up to the 18th floor where they turned on the hall lights (as there was obviously no other guests on this floor) and opened up the floor for us for the week. We wandered Phuket the first night and Ash saw an elephant walking down the street, but couldn’t seem to get a ride on it. We bought Buddah masks for 1000 and we so didn’t care about buying them that the seller kept dropping the price until she hit the one we’d been saying the entire time. Back to the hotel and Ashley ordered the first of what was to be many $50 bottle of champagne. Monday I worked in the room, and made it over to the Sybase User group later in the afternoon – walking the 10 minutes on a dirt road past the banana trees wearing my linen pants and vest. There was a Sybase event that night but we took the jeep instead of the bus for independence sake. After dinner exit and walked down to beach of this private resort we were staying in. Ash and Barbara Burmaster walk away in the dark and a few minuted later we hear them swimming around in the ocean. I kew Ashley wasn’t about to swim in her silk suit, so I wandered down the beach with Pete DeGraff, took all my clothes off and went for a swim too. Pete followed, along with Darryl McKinnon and Harnaum followed. Security guard with lighter calls out of water and holds in front of Ashley’s naked chest showing her a piece of paper. She stare him down and ask what he’s on about. We were sopping wet and driping our way through the lobby when see the exec of Asia who’d been keeping us out – all run downstairs to the local Grease cabaret they had on. Drove to Patong Beach to drink which is three streets wall to wall bars. Drink Drink Drink. When one of the touts outside a sex show had a card that read “pussy open bottle” Pussy smoke, live bird. Darryl asked and the bird show was on next. Ash convinced Barbara to come inside and off they skipped arm and arm into the club. Seats at barstools right on stage. Woman comes out on stage with a wire cage (presumably to catch the bird) and she faced us, reached up and pulled napkin out and immediately two little white mouse heads peered out of her vagina. I almost fell off my stool backwards laughing as she pulled them out and put them in the cage. She danced around a bit then wiggled her hips like something was stuck up there and ended up sticking her finger in her vagina to dislodge something that popped out and hit the stage. It was a canary all wet from being inside her uterus. She quickly grabbed it and added it to the cage with the mice then ran off the stage. – Pete and Ashley go across island for the afternoon – forget credit cards – I get credit card, book jeep across island and have lunch, then huge rainstorm. – Drove home stopping for beer along the way and climbed up a waterfall in the dark barefooted as not to slip off the trail – Stopped in pharmacies to buy something – not sure what it was but it was in the book – Back to hotel snort half of them and took the rest with a bottle of champagne. – Walked around while kicked in then ashley not feeling so she drove pete and I across island to bars. As we pulled up outside the bars ashley turned to Pete and said “Futh Thanns ks nnaaa.” “Stop the car! Pull over the car right now!!!” Luckily right outside bars. ### World Weary? Date: June 26th, 1998 | Country: on the road | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/world-weary/ Ashley and I have, over the past year, been through so much together – we shared our lives as though were in a serious relationship; which in looking back – we were very shortly there. We’ve grown together as a result of our professions and we’ve chosen a path together to live our lives close to one another – for now at least. We originally figured this out while walking along the beach in Deauville, a city on France’s Normandy coast we were visiting for business. The fact that we’d chosen this path together, that is. Ashley was sharing with us some of her fondest memories of living in Europe and visiting Normandy as a girl. As we’ve chosen a path that intertwines our entire lives, I am privileged enough to be close to her to allow her to share with me and educate me to the ways she learned while living in Europe. We’ve been so many places together and experienced so many things in a variety of distinct cultures, we’ve made an unconscious change in our attitudes that makes us appear truly world weary. Woe to the person who has to listen to Ashley and I banter along in a conversation about bouncing from one city to the next across South America. A discussion that to us was a conversation as natural as mentioning that I’d been to the store that afternoon. “Salvador for New Year, zip down to Punta del Este for a few weeks and then take the weekend through Buenos Aries – B.A.- on the way home,” Bradley said. “Perhaps we could stay in Brazil a bit longer and only go to Uruguay for a couple of days?” queried Ashley. “Whatever you think we should do, I’m easy,” replied Bradley. “But we have to go to the house in Uruguay for at least three days to show interest if Jean Francois ever decides to give it to you for a good price.” “That and we have to stop in Buenos Aries for a few days anyway to go to the Sybase office there, then on to the Sao Paulo office on the way home. Those channels people need us,” Ashley says with a grin. “Of course they do. They’re absolutely dying to have you help them redesign their channels program for the region. Who other than a beautiful European woman from corporate headquarters, in to spend time in their office. They’ll need a web site as well, won’t they?” “Now you know when we go into a foreign office together, you’re the internet guy. Yes,” she hesitates, sarcastically frustrated; “we will talk to them about setting up a web server for the partners. Do I have to tell you you’re wonderful at your job every time we go overseas? Or can you just live with the fact that you’re doing pretty damn well at your day job.” “Yes alright, but you know I just need that ego bump every once in a while. And I won’t say a word about that Swiss woman I know who helped design the channels marketing programs in Europe. For working for a billion dollar software company we’re doing pretty well for our mid-twenties, wouldn’t you say?” “We can’t look for new jobs until we get back from South America in January,” said Ashley, ” but then there’s the Australian partner conference in March; that gets us through the spring.” World-weary? Who can say when one is truly so educated that he has no need to travel and explore his own world. Those who are truly looking at their surroundings become curious about the rest of the unknown and will always be able to find something new to discover. True travellers never become world weary – they only sound like it while on their life adventure of exploring the planet. The never-ending quest for knowledge to satisfy their curiosity drives them ever onward. ### Being Watched By The Cuban Police Date: April 21st, 2001 | Country: Cuba | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/being-watched-by-the-cuban-police/ We’d spent a week living in Trinidad by this point, the locals knew us, we were hanging out in Cuban bars and clubs and staying away from the places that are usually frequented by the tourists. One night at the outdoor locals disco at the bus station, a couple of drinks in the local bar – we were immersing ourselves with the Trinidadian residents. We’d also made a few Cuban friends, Caesar, a light skinned man with Roman looks of our own early thirties age who’d taken a liking to Ashley, was our main guide throughout the week showing us a new paladaras (private restaurant in a Cuban family’s home), organizing us horse rentals, and other activities. There were a few other Cuban faces I remember, but each evening the cast changed with only our friend Caesar as the constant character. It’s our last night here, and we wanted to go out with a bang, so we ate in a paladaras, and gorged ourselves on lobster, shrimp and chicken, then headed over to the half tourist-half Cuban Casa de la Musica which is basically an outdoor discotheque complete with flashing lights and an excellent sound system, but it’s always a live salsa band instead of recorded music. The band was incredible, and within minutes of our entry Marshall and Ashley were on the dance floor. I was hanging in the back with Melinda when a tall, black, basketball player sized Cuban man came over and asked me if Melinda could dance with him. I said no, but Melinda intervened and said it would be no problem. Off they went dancing, so I moved closer to the dance floor, picking up a mojito cocktail on the way and watched my friends dancing away. I watched them move to this Latin rhythm that wasn’t completely comfortable to dance to for any of us, and once you’ve got the basic steps down it’s OK until the locals speed up the tempo making it very difficult for us to keep up. They all did pretty well and I was impressed since they were all dancing with the locals and keeping up. I went back to the bar for a cuba libre (yet another rum drink) where I was joined by Marshall, and an English woman we’d met on the diving trip we’d been on the same afternoon. We talked a while next to the bar when Melinda walked over, now done dancing with the basketball player, and said to us “I think one of us just had sex on the dance floor with our clothes on, and it wasn’t me.” Melinda explained that inside of five seconds of dancing with her partner’s hands on her lower back, he decided to let them take a wander down to her toned butt to see what that was all about. Melinda then revoked his lower back permissions and put the Cuban’s hands on her upper back at shoulder blade level. Apparently he was dancing very, very close, which is hard to do dancing salsa since you need space for your hips to move. Apparently not for this dancer. Melinda, Marshall, myself and the English woman, who’s name escapes me, stood and talked to each other, the Cubans around us, the bartender – anyone within chatting distance – the whole time just loading up on cuba libres and mojitos . The bar closed and we were still standing around talking when the place was emptying out. Ashley and Caesar came and found us and asked where we were going, so we agreed to meet at the local Cuban bar across the street from our casa particular . Ashley took off and we walked the English woman home, and along the way we found out she’d been a backup singer for Sting and Phil Collins. The English woman weaved her way down the cobblestoned streets, Melinda on one side and Marshall on the other. Apparently we were used to people drinking in the volume we’re used to and had accidentally broken this poor woman with liquor. We headed over to the Cuban bar, which opens at about two in the morning, and instead of going inside we were sitting about two buildings down from the entrance. The reader needs some background about this bar and Cuba itself in order to understand how crazy this evening was. This bar in particular had caught our eye mainly because it was open at all hours of the day and night. The bar itself is not too attractive – a rectangular green building front, very plain and boxy looking with an incongruous looking security guard stationed outside. Security guard? Why would they need one of those? Upon entering there are no walls, only a solid concrete roof covering a large open area with a low dividing wall separating the main dancing and pool table/pinball area from the rest of the seating. Along the back wall is the bar itself following the wall, with its sole teenage bar tender serving drinks to the locals. The first time we visited this bar a few nights before at about 1:45am one morning it was totally empty, save us, and the girls thought it was boring so Marshall and I walked them home. We returned to the bar, got one drink and sat down at one of the small tables in the back. In no less than ten minutes the bar had filled with thirty to fifty young Cubans playing pool, dancing to the now playing salsa music, another group crowded around the air hockey table – this was a complete bar transformation. Marshall and I had a couple of Cuban women ask us to dance so we stood up and moved to the center of the room between the pool table and the bar, closer to the entrance. We were dancing with these women when the one dancing with Marshall looked over and spotted a PNR policeman in the bar. She tapped her friend, my dancing partner, on the shoulder and told her the police were in the bar, then both of them turned and walked away as if both Marshall and I had either insulted them or told them we both had communicable Yellow Fever. This was our first taste of the effect communism has on all the people living in Cuba – these women were not supposed to be seen with any tourists, and hence the reason they had walked away directly then the communist authority entered the bar. We learned through Caesar that regular Cubans aren’t allowed to talk to the foreigners, and if you don’t have a good reason to be talking to the tourists then the PNR might ask you questions. The PNR is the Castro version of the KGB, the official police force of Cuba. As much as we forgot about it while we were there, Cuba is still a full communist state, and their law enforcement organization consists of the PNR (National Revolutionary Police) and local communist neighborhood watch groups called the CDR (Committee for the Defense of the Revolution). CDR members are local neighborhood Cuban nationals who act as auxiliary eyes and ears of the police and report to the PNR any strange activity or local Cuban neighbors who are undertaking activities (like talking to foreigners) contrary to the ideals of the Revolution. Hence the reason Communism works – everyone’s always being watched and they live in a bit of fear of the state. The Cuban girls left us and Marshall and I looked around at the crowd and noticed a few tough looking characters, but nothing that made us feel uncomfortable. Marshall bought the next round of drinks and I hit that “wall” where I knew that I was destined for a hang over if I put another one away so I exercised a veto and took the drink to go in case I might need it in fifteen minutes or so. As we exited I noticed the security guard at the door again, and it finally dawned on me that this is the only twenty four hour locals bar in town which pulls in all types of people, not all of who might be upstanding citizens. Cue security guard. Back to our Saturday night with Caesar, we all regrouped at the Cuban bar and were sitting outside on the steps of a building ten meters away talking and drinking. It was Melinda & Ashley with Caesar next to Ashley, Marshall, and two other Cuban guys I’d not met before. Both were black as Africans, the younger one with dreadlocks, and the taller mid-twenties one was named Yuri (a nice Russian name for him). Everyone was just sitting and talking, so I went across the street to our casa particular to get something and when I returned Caesar and Ashley were missing, Yuri was sitting on the sidewalk and Melinda and Marshall recounted their run in with the local authorities. All was well when I left, but a white van with three men in the front seat came driving up and stopped directly in front of my friends. The passenger door opened and a man in a PNR uniform pulled out a flashlight and shined it first in the faces of the two black Cubans. They heard the latch of the sliding door disengage and Ashley spotted the door opening a few inches and was sure the police were about to take away our friends. The PNR agent first questioned the younger black with the dreadlocks, then told him to get out of there so the boy ran. He then asked Yuri for his papers. asked him a few questions, then confiscated his papers. While Yuri was being questioned Caesar just turned his head away hoping, since his skin was light enough – more so than Marshall’s skin color – for him not to be noticed. The PNR agent shined his flashlight in Caesar and demanded his identity papers as well. He asked what they were doing with us (the Americans) and then told Caesar that he would have to report to the police station later to be questioned and retrieve his papers. With that the agent got back in the van, the sliding door closed and the van drove away. When I returned Yuri was visibly disturbed and I tried to talk to him in my French-Spanish mix and he told me that he’d have to go to jail for three days or pay a fine of US$50.00 or 1,500 Cuban pesos. Knowing the value of the dollar by this point, this was a lot of money for a Cuban to come up with for an infringement like the supposed one committed. Yuri just told me this information but never actually asked me for the money. With that he left and stormed off down the street. Melinda, Marshall and I tried to put what had happened together, and they came to the conclusion that this was an elaborate scam and that they (Caesar and Yuri in conjunction with the police) were trying to get money from us. I was under the impression that they’d just seen a true Soviet style communist police state intimidation maneuver. But why hadn’t Yuri just asked me for the money instead of just telling me the price of the fine? And why did the police let the young Rastafarian go instead of confiscating his papers? I wasn’t convinced it was a scam but there were a couple of questions. When Ashley returned we tried to make more sense of this but didn’t make much progress, so we retired to bed and would try to ponder this again in the morning. Ashley got up early and asked the patriarch of our house his take on why the police didn’t stop the Rastafarian and his response was that the police probably already knew that guy, where he lived, how to find him, but they needed information about the other two Cubans. Caesar stopped by our house that morning to tell me that Yuri had lied about the jail and the fine, but that he did have to go to the police to get his papers. Caesar explained to the police that he has a license to rent horses to foreigners, and that’s how he met us. All above board and on the up and up. Apparently it worked because I saw his identity card in his front shirt pocket during our conversation. He also said that because we were hanging out in the Cuban establishments and with the locals that we were being watched, not as a risk, but rather just to see what we were up to since we were much closer to the locals than most tourists. As a political scientist I found the whole experience intriguing. It was like hearing stories of travellers to Moscow in the mid-eighties, not a real-life run in with a still operational communist regime. As much as Castro has created an environment for hard currency carrying travellers, we’d managed to slip under his fold and get a true feeling for what communist Cuban life is like for the locals. Even if Caesar had wanted to change his life, under the system he lives he does not have a permit to move out of his city. Saddening, intriguing, scary, incomprehensible, whatever the emotion that this experience evokes, we saw and felt something that not many foreigners get to see. Personally it just fuels my personal fire of hoping (and possibly trying to help lobby for) the US embargo to fall to help better the lives of the kind, warm and generous people we came in contact with in the city of Trinidad. ### Entering Burma Date: June 19th, 2001 | Country: Burma | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/entering-burma/ As I try to distill three day’s worth of travel through Burma I get the calming privilege of sitting on a terrace facing the muddy brown waters of the Irawaddy River. I can see a line of foothills across the opposite bank, one hill with the white spire of a paya (stupa) temple atop. We’re in our landscaped hotel, the Thante River Side, where Reynald and I have decided to kick it for a few days. The hotel management has figured out that we’re exceptional customers of the bar so have assigned a server to sit on terrace level behind us in the shade of a nearby tree, ready to be dispatched up to the main building for some rum and coke as required. Thirty six countries I’ve veisited, and usually upon entering an entirely new territory there’s some flash back in my mind that creates a correlation to some previous experience. With Burma, or Myanmar as the military junta dictatorship prefer, the puzzling thing to me was that I didn’t get this feeling, even after the first day in Rangoon. That alone, that it can be such a different place, makes this country that much more magical. I finally worked it out last night – it’s a combination of all the best elements of our other favorite places. We arrived in Rangoon one hot humid morning on June 16th, two days before the Thai prime minister was to make a milestone visit to Burma. There were workers sprucing up all areas of the airport to make it look more presentable for his imminent arrival. Bamboo scaffolding everywhere. Our plane landed after cruising over lush green jungle, dotted with the white and gold Buddah payas, then the moment we landed and the doors opened we felt the 32*C (94*F) heat hit us at 7:00 a.m. This was the weather of British Burma that Rudyard Kipling so often commented on. Reynald and I exited the plane and walked across the tarmac to the faux-wood paneled airport terminal and the circa 1940’s immigration posts. The way immigration and customs works is where one immigration agent types your details in the the computer then a second one rewrites any words on your entry documents that weren’t clear. Of course this is done after all of the data has been keyed into the computer. You work it out. Step two is dealing with the exchange of U.S. dollars into Foreign Exchange Certificates (FECs). The military junta’s way of extracting cash from tourists is to force out each visitor to convert US$200 to FECs at a one-t0-0ne ratio. You can use the FECs to pay for plane tickets and hotels but if you try to convert them to the local currency, the kyat, you’ll get a lower exchange rate. Moral of the story is to change as little cash into FECs so you can buy local currency on the black market and reduce your travel cost. Reynald and I had heard stories about bribing the FEC exchange officer to get out of changing too much, so I thought I’d try. We passed immigration together and I pulled out two US$100 bills, the minimum we could change for one person, and placed that and both passports on the counter. I then played pantomime with the agent and motioned that this was for both of us. She finally said, in English, “If you can help me.” I topped off the passports with a US$20 bill, the smallest I had, and she handed over the $200 now converted to FECs and told us not to tell anyone. We bundled ourselves into our taxi for the thirty minute ride into Rangoon and instantly we were mezmerized. Everything was so green. Green, green, green, green. England is green, Vermont is green, nothing like Rangoon though. It reminded us both of East Africa more than anywhere else. There was dense jungle on both sides of the street, palm trees, banana trees, flowers blooming in colors I’d never seen in nature – this was all so incredibly striking. Then we passed through some of the old British areas of town. The old colonial buildings, now worn from fifty years of use since independence still hold theire Imperialist honour. We saw some mansions with absolutely perfectly manicured gardens surrounding a stark whitewashed colonial property. Kipling once again came to mind. God love the British man who was born in India and knew the British colonial holdings better than his motherland. And he got to write to tell us about it! Both Reynald and I were silent in the car as we rode in. The driver told us some highlights as we drove, I think, but I’m pretty sure neither one of us heard what he was talking about as we were engrossed with our focus of watching the country unfold in front of us. We took a room in th ehome of this sweet Burmese family, the Three Seasons Hotel, with was $20 a night including breakfast. Since we’re travelling during the rainy season all the prices are down a bit, but admittedly in this climate it rains every day in the morning and the late afternoon around four o’clock. We had a walk down the main shopping street and I was getting India flashbacks: food being cooked out in the open, fruits and vegetables you can only get in this part of the world for sale on the street . . . ### Going Standby in Mandalay Date: June 22nd, 2001 | Country: Burma | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/going-standby-in-mandalay/ Three days ago we woke up in our Rangoon hotel at 5:30 a.m. and headed to the airport for our departure up country. We’d gotten a “special monsoon fare” from Air Mandalay to get us to a series of points around the country since it’s the rainy season and the roads and rail are all in disrepair at the moment. We got to the Rangoon airport and had to go through immigration and customs again so they could track our internal movement. It took us a while but was pretty straightforward. They called boarding for our flight and once we were on the plane they did a headcount and since everyone was present the plane actually left 15 min early! I suppose it’s more efficient since everyone was on board. One hour later we were landing at a simple airport in the Bagan Archaelogical Zone. This region is absolutely unbelievable and there is nothing like it anywhere else in the world. In the historical Mon period in Burma from 800-1200 AD the Mon king had a series of Buddhist temples constructed in this are in the west of the country. In a 10 sq kilometer area there once stood over 4,000 temples averaging from ten to fifty metres high. Today about 2,500 remain tucked in the jungle, all scattered across the region. When we exited the airport transportation choices were taxi or horse-drawn cart. We chose the cart, threw our backpacks up with the driver then sat backwards with our legs hanging off the back of the cart. We were heading to the opposite side of the region to a series of hotels that sit on the Irawaddy river at the center of the temple zone. It was 7:30 a.m. and already getting warm, but it was dry, such a welcome change from the heavy heat of Rangoon. At this hour of the morning the sun is also casting a golden glow across the region. Our cart left the airport and went down the paved road for five hundred metres but instead of following the road it turned onto a dirt track and headed out through the fields. We couldn’t see anything at first due to the high bushes surrounding the adjacent field, but where they ended the most magnificent view was afforded to us. Twenty temple, all different sizes, lay before us – some right next to the cart and others off in the distance. The sunlight lit every on perfectly, some temples’ spires blocked by only a row of lazy palm trees which just added to the view. White spires, red brick spires, gold leaf, these were truly otherworldly. Many of these temples have a large square base with a tall circular spine rising up from there. ### Asia: The Strangest Business Trip Ever Date: January 31st, 2005 | Country: China | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/asia-the-strangest-business-trip-ever/ Gurgaon, India – Over a week on the road and I’ve finally gotten a chance to sit and gather some of my thoughts on what has got to be the strangest business trip I think I’ve ever been on. The weird feeling comes from the locale surrounding me when I’m in an Italian suit going to work in a Beijing taxi, the driver intent on trying to knock over the man on the bike alongside, balancing no less that 300 eggs in a plastic milk crate on the handlebars. I honestly can’t believe we sell supercomputers the size of a refrigerator to companies in some of the countries of this region but these are purportedly the new economic engines of the world. I am also baffled that I get paid to experience all of this. Nothing can describe walking through Tiananmen Square on a rare, crystal clear night with the temperature hovering around 28*F, then three days later be standing in Old Delhi with what feels like most of the inhabitants of the city passing in both directions on a shop-lined street 20 feet wide – many screaming “Hello” or “How are you?” Mix in a few mopeds, bike rickshaws, cows, dogs (“Hi ‘Mange'”), and children carrying chai to the shop vendors and you’re getting somewhere close. Intense would be a word I would use pretty liberally here. I got a chance yesterday to return to the largest mosque in India – the exactlocation where I took the photo of the “Beggar Girl” on the steps facing Old Delhi. She wasn’t there, but another was, with a look just as striking. My favorite moment today was when I was in our nice wood-lined offices outside of Delhi and after an hour the regional power grid went down plunging the office into darkness, the only light provided by the laptop screens, but no one batted an eye. Fifteen minutes later the power was back and all was well. Three total outages today and my greatest fear is getting stuck in the elevator so I stick to the five flights of stairs. During one of my tea breaks I watched the Untouchables dig through the garbage in thefield across from the office tower (this sounds cold but I’m just reporting it exactly as I’m seeing it) then we were off to lunch where eating with your right hand sans utensils was expected regardless of the attire. Three total outages today and my greatest fear is getting stuck in the elevator so I stick to the five flights of stairs. ” Eating in India has always been easy – and there’s nothing like this kind of cooking at its source. China and Korea on the other hand were always adventures in eating, and a ginger pick through the bowl of whatever with your chopsticks was a requirement before committing and pulling something out. My first day in China I fought the jet lag and chartered a car out to a remote section of the Great Wall two hours north of Beijing. After my morning four hour climb we stopped at a “farmers” restaurant which consisted of three four person tables in the living room of this family’s home. TV was on and the two teenage boys were watching some sort of Karaoke show. It was full of smoke from the kitchen, or was it the other two tables of Chinese men smoking Marlboro reds like they’d been banned, ashing and putting their butts out on the floor. My guide ordered us lunch then told me we had to go and pick out our fish. Pick out our fish. Out to the front yard we went where a large grey concrete tank with one of the two TV-watching teenagers was now perched with a net. He pulled out an enormous two foot long catfish which he whacked on the head then weighed. Four kilograms (9 lbs) was the size, but my guide told him it was too big. He told her it was already dead so it was going to be our lunch. Done. Back inside, seated at the table when yet another teenage boy entered the room with three plastic burlap bags – all moving as though something were alive. “Mountain chickens”, my guide “Tina” says with wide eyes – she immediately ordered us one which the TV-teenager now needed to go outside to kill, gut and pluck for us. Needless to say we had food for about twelve at a table for three. When the food arrived the full fish tail was sticking out of the top of the bowl and hanging over the side; it looked like they’d killed a mermaid. The driver started fishing around the bowl for the fish cheeks (attached to the head) while Tina started to serve me some. A moment later I found out that the fish had been chopped into pieces with a cleaver, so de-boning needed to happen with your tongue and chopsticks. I learned to press the fish meat down into a pancake sort of circle to have all bones rise to the top before eating. I could go on for days about the various meals in China – ox bone marrow, chicken feet complete with talon, fish heads – but I’ll spare you the details. Notice three days of Seoul not mentioned here. While Seoul is ultra-modern with the Koreans always mentally trying to out-do the Japanese, all of this has left the city without it’s own spirit and even in the most “energetic” parts of town it’s the reserved sense of their culture that permeates everything. There’s no excitement or power that comes from any part of the city – only the humble, bow at everyone as not to offend them attitude prevails. It also appears that the architects in some of the older parts of the city were taught by a corps of graduates from the Lenin-Brezhnev Institute. Enough said. Further reports as news warrants. ### Visiting North Korea Date: June 7th, 2008 | Country: North Korea | URL: https://www.traveller.org/journal/visiting-north-korea/ Seoul to Kaesong, North Korea – Up at the crack of dawn, being 5:00 am, to meet Megan my Korean-national friend, resident of Seoul, to make the trek across the DMZ to go to the ancient city of Kaesong, North Korea for the day. Kaesong was the old capital of the unified Korean peninsula and only nine months ago did a goodwill accord get established between the North and the South to allow day trips to this historical city commence. Trips are limited to 500 people per day and run on a very strict time schedule with stops negotiaged between both countries with specific restrictions on how the southern foreigners, the “galwei” would be able to view the historical sites and interact with the locals in the North. Got on our bus in downtown Seoul and headed off to the DMZ where there is the South Korean immigration and customs checkpoint about an hour away. The drive up the motorway was intriguing in that when we were still within a few miles of the North Korean border a tall fence with circular rings of barbed wire running the length of the top began to barricade any water approach to the country from the river behind. The fence ran literally for miles with camouflaged watch towers every few hundred yards and sodium lights to be illuminated the moment there was any sort of advance by unwelcome contacts. On this stretch of road to connect to the North the DMZ consists of a South Korean military barricade, seven kilometers of the DMZ no man’s land, then the North Korean military barricade on the other side. About 2km before the South Korean barricade the bus came upon the ECO bridge where there was a military checkpoint which we cleared and started across the bridge, littered with bright yellow and black striped barricades, circular spiked wheels that would put out a car tire, and other one-sided spiked barriers, all pointed toward the North. The bus began the salom through these items and Megan explained that it’s to slow down an advance from the North if it were ever to happen. Once across the bridge we arrived at a brand new steel and glass immigration building (called the INSERT NAME HERE) where we disembarked and went inside to pick up our North Korean immigration documents. We were handed clear plastic pouch to wear around our necks, inside a large colored card outlining the bearers name, nationality, and all personal details along with a full color photo of the visa photo submitted with the application. Megan’s was green since she is a Korean national but mine was bright purple to indicate I am a real non-Korean foreigner making the trek North. Since I’m a dual national I decided to go in on my Irish passport as not to raise any eyebrows since Ireland’s officially netural and would be less-confrontational than a U.S. national heading on in. Back downstairs where we officially exited South Korea and were stamped out of the country on our regular passports, then told to put them away and to always wear our North Korean immigration documents in full view for the duration of the trip until we were back. It was almost like wearing a scarlet letter (or a violet badge in my case). We boarded the buses and drove to the actual South Korean military barrier which looked like a raspberry bramble of barbed wire 12-15ft high with multiple large fences, watch towers and staffed by both South Korean and American military officials as we passed through the black and white retractable barricade the width of the road. Now officially in the DMZ no man’s land the bus cruised along and I was expecting to see a large yellow line painted across the highway demarking the North and the South, but unfortunately no markings were in view. Since all of the commentary from the guide was in Hangul (Korean), Megan explained that the DMZ is marked by short one metre high concrete markers with a yellow painted point at the top. They’re spaced every 200 metres along the actual frontier but they are not visible from the road as not to stoke any tensions between the two countries – both who see the other’s territory as part of their own. As a parallel think of China’s policy toward Taiwan. We came up to yet another steel and glass immigration building which was the official North Korean immigration and customs post – clearly funded by the South as part of the goodwill of allowing these trips. We disembarked and went into our immigration lanes to be admitted, and while the building was brand new the North Koreans wanted to make it have a cultural flavor of their own so before the metal detectors of customs and immigration, in the area where you wait in line, they’d pulled out two large full-length wood framed mirrors and placed them on each side of the hall just in case you needed to check yourself before inspection. Honestly it looked like a mirror my 90 year old grandmother might have had in her house at one time. And, just in case you didn’t know the time there was a matching grandfather clock next to the mirror that chimed on the hour. I’m guessing these came from some official’s house to make the immigration and customs inspection more welcoming. Customs first, so we lined up to pass through the metal detector and have bags x-rayed. I stepped up and as Megan noted my customs inspector was a two star military officer. I locked eyes with him when walking through and he would not break our long stare – I finally shifted my eyes after a few seconds due to the uncomfortable feeling I was getting from him. He was a tough one and let’s say I would’t want to have to spend a bunch of time with him in an interrogation room. He immediately asked me where I was from. “Ireland,” I responded. “Give me your papers,” which I handed over. Another long stare right in my eyes then he made the motion for me to pass and retrieve my bag. My camera which was a larger SLR with a 30-300mm lens had been check back at South Korean customs because lenses longer than 160mm are not permitted in North Korea due to “security reasons”. No camera an really nothing in my bag so I grabbed it and went over to the immigration officer who took my paperwork stamped my entry stamp on my purple card and sent me on my way to the waiting bus outside. Now that we were in North Korea there would be three North Korean “guides” who would board the bus with us and accompany us throughout the day. On the bus our South Korean driver announced over the on-board microphone to please applaude when the North Korean guides arrived to “make them feel welcome”. They boarded, and on a bus where I was the only “galwei” they all clapped as instructed when the three arrived. Two sat up front and one sat in the back to monitor us and insure we didn’t take any photos out the windows while the bus was moving. Since the North Koreans allow only 500 people a day they manage it tightly by chartering thirteen busses and move the entire group as a unit so no one gets lost (or no one gets into one of the luggage compartments to go South). When we departed, we departed as a convoy. First was the black 4×4 with four military officers inside, then a second military vehicle, our thirteen tourist busses, then a second black 4×4 bringing up the rear. Our destination was the INSERT NAME waterfall INSERT DISTANCE from the immigration post, which would take us about an hour to get to. Once on the bus one of the communist North Korean “guides” took control of the microphone and started telling us about the virtues of the North and the major accomplishments and landmarks along the journey. We would need to pass on a road high above the city of Kaesong (not a small place) where we’d be visiting later, and what I found interesting is that since I couldn’t understand Hangul I had a very different perspective than Megan who could understand our Northern guide’s commentary. At one point we were coming up to a turn in the road where a tall building stood, a view of the city of Kaesong below in the valley clearly visible past the turn. On the left was a grassy field with a small hill where a large antenna was mounted, but not particularly interesting. Clearly our guide had gone through ‘Communism 101′ tour guide training, because at the point where the bus would have a very clear view of the city and a children’s school nearby he got on the microphone and said something to the effect of, “If you look to the left you will see the largest radio transmission tower in the southern part of our country.” Immediately all Korean eyes looked to the left, away from the city view at the antenna, but I couldn’t understand him so I looked to the right and was looking right down with a clear view of the city, the broken tile roofs of the houses, the children playing in the school across the road, all dressed in identical school uniforms, playing on rusty playground equipment, the only spectator of this view. This diversion tactic happened three different times, and I mentioned it to Megan so she became aware of what the communists were, in what we believe, was an attempt to shield us from seeing certain windows into local Kaesong life. Megan’s really mentally sharp and the two of us began to analyze every action our commie “guides” did from that point forward. Good thing it was first thing in the morning when we talked about this because she picked up on something very intriguing later that day. Our guide prattled on for the entire hour en route to the waterfall (thankfully I couldn’t understand anything, let alone the North Korean folk song he decided to sing for the bus), but what was strange outside was the appearance of a North Korean soldier standing in the middle of a field or on a path every couple of miles. It was almost as if the military had been alerted to our bus route and they were there to make sure we were passing our checkpoints to our destination. What I noticed later, after seeing a solder standing on a dirt track in the middle of a wheat field, was that they were only stationed at any access points that directly connected a village or housing development to the highway. If there were paths running under the elevated road in places you would see locals riding their bicycles or walking, but if the path or road connected to the highway there was always a solitary soldier standing watching the road. It was almost as if they were keeping the people in to insure no contact with the foreigners’ busses versus insuring we didn’t stop to interact with anyone. We also got to see large concrete slabs in the middle of agricultural fields with murals of Kim Jong Il standing amid a bountiful harvest to incent those living nearby that “our great leader” will provide spiritual guideance for you (even if your crops fail). We finally arrived at the parking lot for the waterfalls which consisted of a small wooden building, a “shop” (free use of the word), with the entire inventory of the snacks for sale on display on the single shelf attached to the outside of the building. We figured that if it wasn’t outside it wasn’t in stock any more. It was almost comical how the workers went running behind the building when the busses arrived to find that single power plug to connect the CD player to blare Korean pop songs at high volume into the parking lot. Half of the tour of 500 had passed the shop by the time they got the music going – I could almost see them running out back to scream to the one sleeping electrician, “Turn on the power – the galwei are here!” We bought an instant coffee and discovered the pricing system of “one dollar” as the base price for everything in the country. The waterfalls are set in a lush forested setting with hills and a concrete path and staircases cutting through the foliage. The waterfall was nice great setting with a lagoon, and there were a couple of small temples higher up above the falls that we visited. Each of the stone markers describing the falls or the temples were engraved in Hangul and after reading the third one Megan giggled when I asked her what it said because each started out with the same words of, “Our dear great and beloved leader . . .” After our temple visit we were sitting near the falls on a bench by ourselves when one of the North Korean male guides came over and asked if we were a couple. Megan responded we weren’t but ex-work colleagues, then tried to politely finish the conversation with him. Since we were off away from the other tourists the guide now had the opportunity to talk to Westerners so he continued to ask questions of Megan across a variety of topics from if the new Windows Vista really had a bunch of bugs to who won the latest “INSERT WORD” Korean chess tournament. Megan was actually pretty surprised that he was aware of many of the items he had questions about which indicated information is getting into the country, more, it appears than we were led to believe. One topic of particular interest was the fact that I was from Ireland. He asked about me, where Ireland was specifically, then asked about whether British English was better than American English since American English mangled the use of proper grammar. (Megan to verify if I got the concept correct on this.) Megan just explained that they’re both the same language with a differential of word usage between the two. It was time to head down to the busses and in the parking lot there were a good couple hundred people of the 500 on our tour all sitting around and waiting for the call to board the busses. Megan and I were speaking in English to each other when another of the North Korean guides came over and asked Megan if I was realy from Ireland. It must have been strange to them to see a South Korean woman together with a Western galwei, the two of us speaking English together. Megan joked I was probably on the communist watch list since we were getting so many questions from the different guides, and clearly they were talking about this among themselves because another two times with different guides did my nationality come up – in one case where the question was worded, “You are from Ireland, right?” Headed away from the falls and back through the country to the city proper of Kaseong, passing the lone military guards standing in the fields watching our convoy go past. Arrived in town and were taken a circuituous route to our lunch destination in a building on the corner of an intersection where five major four-lane roads converged, a lone traffic guard standing in the middle. What immediately struck me was that there were no cars – anywhere – coming or going through this town of 300,000 residents. The odd bicycle, a handful of men and women crossing the main street on foot a couple of blocks down, but literally no traffic of any kind. Honestly it was like one of those post apocalyptic horror films where something happened and there are no longer residents of this once largely populated city. Our guide pointed out the three things were were allowed to take pictures of: the crappy concrete building the lunch restaurant was being held in, the large bronze statue of Kim Jong Il at the top of the hill at the end of the road above us (but we weren’t allowed to walk up there), and the stone spire across the street, a monument to one of the Kim Jong wives, but crossing the street was not permitted, nor was going any farther than the corner outside the restaurant and down the block about 25 metres. On the diagonal corner the construction site with the crane and the big pile of dirt on the sidewalk was forbidden to be photographed. Whatever. Inside for lunch which consisted of twelve small gold bowls, each with a different item. Korean food generally isn’t my thing since you can never really identify the food in the first place, and this particular spread was questionable at best. The entire meal was a facade the government put on for us to show us that there’s no food crisis in their country. We had a chicken soup, a bowl of some kind of spiced meat, another of fish, various vegetable dishes, a sticky rice dessert with fruit, and alcohol you could have stripped the paint off your house with – all items that none of the local women serving the food could possibly afford. Megan also ordered this local cold noodle dish which looked a bit like purple dishwater with glass noodles, all for the outrageous price of only two US dollars. Ate pretty much nothing but a bowl of warm rice then headed to the “gift shop” at the entrance to the building. I was hoping for communist propaganda items, but this shop only held organic goods from the region, dried vegetables and the like, and three or four bottles of local spirits. The shop looked well stocked, had items in glass cases as well as along all of the walls, but as I browsed I realized that the bottles on one side of the shop were the same kind as the ones at the entry. Ditto for the vegetables and honey across the way as well. Looks like they had a very limited selection and just put more and more out to give the appearance of a stocked store. Headed outside to take some photos before the communists ushered us into the bus again so Megan and I walked out and were able to walk into the middle of the four lane main thoroughfare outside. The North Korean minders had created a cordon standing spaced apart down the middle of the road which was the farthest we were permitted to walk. Stood in the street without fear of traffic since there wasn’t any and took photos of each other with the Kim Il Jong statue in the background and the empty intersection down the hill from us (construction site, crane, and all). The lone traffic cop was still standing in the empty intersection when a blue colored local bus, absolutely packed to the rafters with locals, turned onto the road a few blocks up, headed our direction. The bus hit the intersection and the cop got to do his duty and direct it off to the right, away from the Westerners and down the road we weren’t allowed to visit. We walked down the block to the corner where another group of the North Korean guides had placed themselves to keep us from going any farther where we looked around the back of the restaurant to see a sad looking creek flowing with small pedestrial bridges crossing over about 30 yards down. There were people walking across, a couple of men on bikes, so I took a photo of the bridges with the people while pretending to be taking a photo of the ugly restaurant building. When we were driving in I noticed a nice looking temple visible just steps from the corner of the block, but it was invisible unless you stepped into the gutter. I mentioned to Megan that we should ask if we can take a photo of the temple, moreso so we could get a good look down the long wide boulevard just beyond where the temple sat. She walked over to the communists and asked if we could step off the block to take a quick photo. “No,” came the response. Megan’s a very independent woman so she stepped off the sidewalk into the street and moved toward the guide and asked again. “No, No.” She pushed it to no avail and came back over to meet me and we headed back up the hill towards the busses. Megan turned to me and laughed a little as she said “There’s really nothing to take photos of” as we passed the stone monument to the dictator’s wife, a sad looking department store sitting behind it, closed, with no more than three children’s shirts in one of the multiple display windows, the rest empty for lack of product. By now the entire tour had finished eating and there were now five hundred people standing in the middle of the street taking photos and milling about, the walkie-talkie toting guides calling to those stragglers who crossed the invisible barrier keeping us from interacting with anyone from their country. We were called to board the bus and we drove down the street a bit, one we’d come up prevoiusly, while out the window there were a handful of men and women walking without a glance at the passing bus convoy. The children would look and wave at the busses but nary a look from the adults at all. A short while later we pulled up outside a temple and a historical stone bridge and were told we had thirty minutes to look at both. Everything on the tour was precisely timed and literally when it was time to go they got all of these people back on their transport and moving along in under five minutes – they meant business. The temple was simple and it took no more than five minutes to visit. The stone bridge was constructed in approximately 600 A.D. and has special significance to Megan since one of her ancestors from the Koryo dynasty stood up against the conquering Chosun dynasty and was killed on the bridge for standing up for what he believed in. This story is now a folk tale still told today, with variations depending on if the storyteller has allegiance to one dynasty or the other. That took another five minutes so we walked through the adjoining garden back to the long wall running the length of the garden and nearby road. There was a small staircase cut into the wall which if we climbed would allow a view of the people walking and biking on the path just across the creek behind. We were close to mounting the first step but one of those pesky communist guides standing next to a nearby tree did what he was told to do and forbade us from having a look. Our attempt was more another poke at them, just to see what they’d do since we both knew we weren’t supposed to climb to the top of the wall. Back on the bus to the next stop at the Kaesong Institute which was a INSERT WHAT, but the bus journey was only about 150 yards from the stone bridge we’d just visited. By walking the galwei might come in contact with someone so the bus was necessary. The institute is basically another small, simple-looking temple complex of about three buildings set back from the street behind what looked like an auditorium of some kind. We had to walk around this auditorium to get to the temple and as we were walking Megan noticed the glass in the building didn’t look quite right. “It’s shiny,” she said. I then picked up on the fact that in the doors and tall windows, no more than six feet high, there were one or two horizontal lines across the glass panes on each panel. We worked out that the shine Megan spotted was because the glass wasn’t actually flat but imperfect and bumpy with bubbles in the glass, clear so you cound see through, but the waves from the uneven surface in the pane creating the gleam she saw. The lines I noticed on the larger glass panels were where the North Koreans had placed two pieces of glass together in the frame because they couldn’t produce a single pane six feet high by two feet wide. The temple visit took ten minutes so we had twenty minutes to kill before the last stop of the day. We went out in front of the auditorium building which was on another of the main four-lane roads, devoid of cars as usual, and stood at the edge of the sidewalk. I looked to the left and spotted one of our military escort guards about two hundred yards away telling the pedestrians that passage was blocked until the foreigners leave. Their option was to go back to the corner and cross the street to pass on the other side. Our North Korean guides had established their cordon in the gutter and another military guard was down to the right completing our military barricade to keep us in. Straight across the street no more than ten yards away there were now a fair number of people walking to and fro passing by the growing number of Westerners lining the edge of the sidewalk. Since the institute didn’t take that long to visit more and more of my fellow tourists were just standing there in silence watching the people pass across in front of us. None of the North Korean locals turned to look at us, some barely glanced. It was almost as if they were wearing invisible horse blinders created by the fear of reprisals from their local communist party officials if they stopped and had a good hard look at us. We had eight military officers with us, four in the lead convoy car and four in the rear, and one of them walked past us talking into a walkie talkie when we were standing watching the locals. It was one of those walkie talkies we used to have as children in the 70’s with the large black plastic rectangular shape that holds two ‘D’ size batteries and the long silver telescopic antenna. Usually broke after three weeks of pretending to be an army ranger. This is the 2008 North Korean military issue walkie talkie I’m talking about and it looked exactly the same. One final stop ahead of us, no less than three hundred yards by bus from the last stop, which was the old Kaesong University site with adjacent stamp museum. This stop was actually pretty interesting and we immediately headed to the stamp museum which doubled as a stamp shop to have a look. I skipped the museum part and started looking at the single rack of propaganda postcards, exactly what I’d been looking for throughout the day. Cost for a postcard printed on what felt like parchment paper was USD 0.30 each, and the stamp depicting Kim Jong Il shaking hands with his dead father in some twisted power transition illustration was a cool two dollars. Ouch. The site of the old Kaesong University was actually beautiful. We passed through a large wooden gate set in a tall whitewashed wall into an enormous courtyard shaded by two trees that were more than a thousand years old. As with most temple complexes there’s a series of gates ## The Banknote Library (full text) ### Australia — 3 notes (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/australia/ #### $5 — Five Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/australia-5/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II in three-quarter profile, pearls and a brooch, engraved in grey against washes of pink and lilac — the same likeness carried by Australian five-dollar notes since 1992. A clear top-to-bottom window runs down the centre, holding the seven-pointed Federation Star, the Federation Pavilion and an eastern spinebill among prickly Moses wattle. "Legal Tender Throughout Australia" sits above the two signatures, with a large numeral 5 to the right. The artwork, back: Parliament House on Capital Hill, Canberra, flag mast rising over the curved colonnade and the forecourt mosaic below. The wattle and the spinebill continue through the central window, with the Federation Pavilion beneath. To the right, a fine line drawing of the building's plan in orange, a rolling-colour patch window, and the vertical serial BF16 1890427 — two letters, the year of print, then seven digits. In circulation: The first of the Next Generation Banknote series, released on 1 September 2016 to replace the 1995 five-dollar note. It remains legal tender and in everyday circulation, though later printings carry different signatures, and a 2018 variant corrected the microprinted text within the spinebill's wing. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of Australia | Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Five Dollars | Collected: on the Australia journeys, 1993–2024 | Series: Next Generation Banknote, first issued 2016 | Signature: Glenn Stevens, Governor, Reserve Bank of Australia; John Fraser, Secretary to the Treasury | Printer: Note Printing Australia | Security: Polymer substrate; clear top-to-bottom window with rolling-colour Federation Star, flying eastern spinebill and Federation Pavilion; reversing patch window; raised tactile bumps on the long edges | Dimensions: 130 × 65 mm #### $10 — Ten Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/australia-10/ The artwork, front: Mary Gilmore — poet, journalist and campaigner — in a portrait from her middle years, high lace collar and all. Behind her sits the slab hut of the Cosme settlement in Paraguay, where she joined the New Australia colony. A pen nib, a sprig of bramble wattle and a sulphur-crested cockatoo fill the clear window, with "Jennie", her family name for herself, tucked beside her shoulder. The artwork, back: A.B. "Banjo" Paterson faces the other way, drawn from a young studio photograph. Beside him a stockman rides hard down a mountainside — the scene from "The Man from Snowy River" — and lines of his verse run as microtext across the field. The bramble wattle and the cockatoo carry over from the front, and the large "10" sits with the top-edge tactile bumps. In circulation: Issued 20 September 2017 as the third note of the Reserve Bank's Next Generation Banknote programme, replacing the 1993 polymer ten with the same two literary figures in an older design. That earlier note remains legal tender but is steadily being withdrawn as it returns to the Bank. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of Australia | Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Ten Dollars | Collected: on the Australia journeys, 1993–2024 | Series: Next Generation Banknote series, first issued 2017; serial prefix AA17 | Printer: Note Printing Australia, Craigieburn, Victoria | Signature: Philip Lowe, Governor; John Fraser, Secretary to the Treasury | Security: Clear top-to-bottom window with flying cockatoo and rolling-colour effect, patch with reversing "10", microtext of Paterson's verse, two tactile bumps at each edge | Dimensions: 137 × 65 mm, polymer #### $20 — Twenty Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/australia-20/ In circulation: Came home from the Australia journeys of 1993–2024 — one of 3 Australia notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of Australia | Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Twenty Dollars | Collected: on the Australia journeys, 1993–2024 ### Belgium — 1 note (Franc) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/belgium/ #### BF100 — One Hundred Francs URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/belgium-100/ The artwork, front: James Ensor (1860–1949) in red-brown intaglio, bearded and curly-haired, with his signature engraved at lower left and "HONDERD FRANK" running up the side. To the right, a crowd of the grotesque carnival masks that fill his paintings — grinning, hollow-eyed faces in green, orange and grey, with a long-nosed plumed mask at the edge. Engraver and designer are credited under the green-and-red 100. The artwork, back: A beach at Ostend after Ensor: wooden bathing huts and horse-drawn bathing carts with big spoked wheels, a press of small figures crowding the steps, a lone standing woman, and bathers tumbling in stylised waves along the foot. The bank's name is set in French and German at the right, with the treasurer's and governor's signatures below the vignette. In circulation: Part of Belgium's final franc series, issued from the mid-1990s and the last 100-franc note the country printed. It circulated until the euro changeover: euro notes took over on 1 January 2002 and franc notes lost legal-tender status weeks later, though the National Bank still exchanges them. Details: Currency: Franc (BF) | Denomination: One Hundred Francs | Collected: on the Belgium journeys, 1996–2016 | Issuer: Nationale Bank van België / Banque Nationale de Belgique / Belgische Nationalbank | Series: Final Belgian franc series; James Ensor 100 francs | Signature: Two: the Treasurer (De Schatbewaarder / Le Trésorier / Der Schatzmeister) and the Governor (De Gouverneur / Le Gouverneur / Der Gouverneur) | Security: Segmented security thread through the note; serial number printed twice on the back ### Botswana — 1 note (Pula) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/botswana/ #### P2 — Two Pula URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/botswana-2/ The artwork, front: Blue and pale green throughout. At the left, the portrait of Sir Seretse Khama, first President of Botswana, in jacket and tie — the face of the country's earliest own currency. To the right of centre, a long-tailed bird perched on a branch within an ornate rosette. Above it the two signatures, captioned MINISTER OF FINANCE and GOVERNOR; below, "This note is legal tender for Two Pula". Serial number in fraction style, B/24, printed twice. The artwork, back: The Setswana side: "Banka ya Botswana" above, "Pula tse Pedi" below, with the figure 2 in each corner and heavy engine-turned panels down both edges. Between them a village scene in line engraving — a seated woman coiling a large basket, another pounding grain with a mortar, a man squatting at work and a thatched roof under construction behind him. The printer's imprint runs along the bottom margin. In circulation: Botswana left the rand area and issued its own pula notes in 1976; this Khama design belongs to that first family. After his death in 1980 the portrait gave way to that of his successor, Quett Masire, on the notes that followed, and the two-pula denomination was later dropped from paper altogether in favour of a coin. Details: Issuer: Bank of Botswana / Banka ya Botswana | Currency: Pula (P) | Denomination: Two Pula | Collected: on the Botswana journeys, 1992–2003 | Series: First pula issue, undated (from 1976) | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company, Limited (imprint on back) | Signature: Two: Minister of Finance and Governor ### Brazil — 5 notes (Real) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/brazil/ #### R$1 — One Real URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/brazil-1-a071/ The artwork, front: The Efígie da República — the allegorical head of the Republic, laurel-crowned and modelled in the Roman manner, a figure Brazil has used on its money and coinage for over a century. Above her, REPÚBLICA FEDERATIVA DO BRASIL; below, BANCO CENTRAL DO BRASIL with the motto DEUS SEJA LOUVADO. A large green 1 fills the left field, and at right sit the two signatures of the Minister of Finance and the President of the Central Bank. The artwork, back: A hummingbird in flight beside its nest, wings spread and long bill open, feeding two well-grown chicks perched among leaves; the species is named in small capitals as BEIJA-FLOR. The whole vignette is engraved in fine grey-green line work against a pale green and straw underprint, with UM REAL set vertically in a panel down the right-hand side and the mint's credit, Casa da Moeda do Brasil, beneath it.plano's restrained style throughout. In circulation: Issued from 1994 with the launch of the real, this was the smallest note of the currency's first family. Printing of the 1 real ceased in the mid-2000s in favour of the 1 real coin, and the higher denominations were later superseded by the second family from 2010; surviving notes remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: Banco Central do Brasil — República Federativa do Brasil | Currency: Real (R$) | Denomination: One Real | Collected: on the Brazil journeys, 2004–2005 | Series: First family of the real; serial A 0714038182 C | Printer: Casa da Moeda do Brasil | Watermark: Efígie da República | Security: See-through register — the circular rosette printed in halves on front and back, completing when held to the light | Signature: Ministro da Fazenda and Presidente do Banco Central do Brasil #### R$2 — Two Reais URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/brazil-2/ The artwork, front: The Effígie da República — the Republic personified as a laurel-crowned woman, engraved after a sculpted head and lit from the left so the stone reads as stone rather than flesh. "BANCO CENTRAL DO BRASIL" runs along the top, a large blue 2 fills the left field above the words REAIS and the motto DEUS SEJA LOUVADO. At right, a circular sun-like device and two signatures for the Ministro da Fazenda and the Presidente do Banco Central. The artwork, back: A marine turtle, labelled TARTARUGA MARINHA in small vertical type, rearing up over coral and weed with three hatchlings scattered above it — the shell and flippers worked in fine engraved scale-work. DOIS REAIS stands in a tall panel down the right side, a blue 2 beneath the turtle, and the matching half of the circular device sits at the left. CASA DA MOEDA DO BRASIL is printed low at the right. In circulation: The 2 reais joined the first family of the real in 2001, filling the gap between the 1 real and the 5. From 2010 the redesigned second-family notes began to displace it, and the older design was steadily withdrawn as it came back through the banks, though it long remained in everyday circulation. Details: Issuer: Banco Central do Brasil | Currency: Real (R$) | Denomination: Two Reais | Collected: on the Brazil journeys, 2004–2005 | Series: First family of the real; 2 reais denomination, introduced 2001 | Printer: Casa da Moeda do Brasil (printed on the back) | Security: See-through register — the circular sun device completes when held to the light | Signature: Two: Ministro da Fazenda and Presidente do Banco Central do Brasil | Dimensions: 140 × 65 mm #### R$5 — Five Reais URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/brazil-5/ The artwork, front: The Effigy of the Republic, a classical female head crowned with laurel, modelled on Roman coin portraiture and used across every denomination of the Real. To the left, a large blue-and-purple 5, two tactile dots for the partially sighted and the motto DEUS SEJA LOUVADO. At right, the star-and-laurel rosette above the signatures of the Minister of Finance and the President of the Central Bank, and the serial number lettered A ... A. The artwork, back: A great egret — labelled GARÇA in the engraving — stooping over shallow water among reeds and rushes, part of the wildlife series that gave each Real denomination its own Brazilian animal. The value repeats as CINCO REAIS in a tall vertical panel at the right, with a mirrored 5 alongside, and CASA DA MOEDA DO BRASIL printed small in the lower corner. In circulation: The first family of the Real, launched with the currency reform of July 1994 and printed in successive issues through the 2000s. A wholly redesigned second-family 5 reais, larger imagery and stronger security, appeared in 2013; first-family notes have since been steadily withdrawn as they return to the Central Bank. Details: Issuer: Banco Central do Brasil | Currency: Real (R$) | Denomination: Five Reais | Collected: on the Brazil journeys, 2004–2005 | Series: First family of the Real, introduced 1994 | Printer: Casa da Moeda do Brasil | Signature: Two: Ministro da Fazenda and Presidente do Banco Central do Brasil | Dimensions: 140 × 65 mm #### R$10 — Ten Reais URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/brazil-10-effigy/ The artwork, front: The Effígie da República — a classical female head crowned with laurel, the allegorical figure of the Brazilian Republic that gives the whole Real family its face. Beside her a large red numeral 10, the legend DEUS SEJA LOUVADO, and REAIS in white lettering across a dark band. At right, the rosette-and-star device of the Banco Central, with the signatures of the Minister of Finance and the Bank's President beneath. Serial C 3616045180 C. The artwork, back: A macaw in close portrait, engraved head and shoulders with the beak and eye finely lined and the wing feathers loosely sketched behind — labelled simply ARARA. A second large 10 sits below, with DEZ REAIS in a framed panel at the right and CASA DA MOEDA DO BRASIL in small type in the corner. The left third carries a repeat 10 and the Central Bank rosette over the pale watermark field. In circulation: Part of the first family of Real notes launched with the currency in July 1994, and a workhorse throughout the following decade. The Banco Central issued a polymer 10 for the quincentenary in 2000, and the paper design was finally superseded by the second-family 10 reais of 2012. Details: Issuer: Banco Central do Brasil | Currency: Real (R$) | Denomination: Ten Reais | Collected: on the Brazil journeys, 2004–2005 | Series: First family of the Real, effigy of the Republic (from 1994) | Printer: Casa da Moeda do Brasil | Watermark: Effigy of the Republic in the unprinted left panel | Signature: Two: Ministro da Fazenda and Presidente do Banco Central do Brasil #### R$10 — Ten Reais URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/brazil-10-pedro-cabral-a057/ The artwork, front: Pedro Álvares Cabral in blue line engraving, bearded and looking straight out, above his name in small capitals. Behind him, in brown, a landscape of the new-found coast: forest, birds and animals, men felling trees and raising a cross. Portuguese caravels sail through the orange 10 at right; at left, a portolan compass rose and lines of old chancery script over a clear window carrying a printed rosette. The artwork, back: A montage of Brazilian faces, engraved in blue as if pinned in frames across the note — a young woman, a man in a straw hat, an older man with a child, an indigenous girl — with two figures in feather dress standing at the centre in a burst of rays. A large red-brown 10 fills the left, and "Brasil 1500-2000" sits under the second clear window at right. In circulation: Issued in 2000 for the quincentenary of the Portuguese landfall, alongside the ordinary paper 10 reais rather than in place of it. Brazil's first polymer note, and its only one; the experiment was not repeated. Still legal tender, but long since gone from tills, and superseded by the second-family 10 reais from 2010. Details: Issuer: Banco Central do Brasil — "Dez Reais" | Currency: Real (R$) | Denomination: Ten Reais | Collected: on the Brazil journeys, 2004–2005 | Series: Commemorative issue, Brasil 1500-2000; serial A 0573015728 D | Printer: Casa da Moeda do Brasil | Security: Polymer substrate with two clear windows, the larger printed with a rosette device | Signature: Ministro da Fazenda and Presidente do Banco Central do Brasil ### Burma — 9 notes (Kyat) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma/ #### K5 — Five Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-5/ The artwork, front: General Aung San in military tunic, three-quarter view, set in a dense oval of blue and violet guilloche work that fills the whole left half. The Burmese title of the Union of Burma Bank runs across the top in a green panel; the denomination in Burmese script sits in the middle field, with a red serial number above it and a Burmese numeral 5 in each side cartouche. The artwork, back: A stand of toddy palms — the fan-leaved Borassus of the dry central plains, with a climber's ladder lashed to one trunk — rises against a broad field of engraved lathe-work. Over it a large ghosted 5 carries the words FIVE KYATS. Below, UNION OF BURMA BANK in English, with the bank's name in Burmese in a small oval at the left. In circulation: Part of the Union of Burma Bank series that carried Aung San's portrait through the 1970s and into the 1980s. It was overtaken by the later Union of Burma Bank issues of the mid-1980s, and after 1989 by Central Bank of Myanmar notes, which dropped Aung San's likeness altogether. Details: Issuer: Union of Burma Bank | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Five Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: Aung San portrait issue, 5 Kyats | Security: Red serial number with Burmese-character prefix #### K5 — Five Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-5-0439/ The artwork, front: General Aung San in military tunic, medal ribbons at the breast, framed in an elaborate Burmese floral cartouche of the kind carved on monastery doors. To the right, the bank's name in Burmese script across the top panel, the denomination spelt out in ornamental Burmese lettering on a lattice ground, and the red serial number. Lower right, FIVE KYATS beside a figure 5. The artwork, back: A toddy palm, drawn with each frond picked out, and a climber halfway up the trunk with his collecting pot slung at his hip — the palm-juice tapper's work that supplies jaggery and toddy across the dry zone. Behind, a large shaded 5 and FIVE KYATS in outlined capitals over a scalloped guilloche. Along the foot: UNION OF BURMA BANK. In circulation: One of the Union of Burma Bank notes issued from the early 1970s, when Aung San's portrait ran across the whole denomination range. It stayed in use through the following decade, alongside the odd 15, 35 and 75 kyat values, before the Central Bank of Myanmar issues of 1990 dropped the portrait in favour of the chinthe. Details: Issuer: Union of Burma Bank (ပြည်ထောင်စုမြန်မာနိုင်ငံဘဏ်) | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Five Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: Aung San portrait issue, undated; toddy palm reverse | Signature: Single signature in Burmese script, in red beneath the portrait | Security: Red serial number, front right; Burmese and English denomination panels #### K5 — Five Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-5-bs61/ The artwork, front: A chinthe — the guardian lion that sits at the foot of every pagoda stairway in Burma — seated on its plinth, mane rendered in tight engraved scales, jaws open. Behind it, rosette guilloche in pink and slate. Burmese script across the top panel names the Central Bank of Myanmar; the value ငါးကျပ် (five kyats) stands to the right, with a western 5 and the Burmese numeral ၅ in the corners. Red serial, prefix BS, and a Burmese-numeral serial above left. A band of fine repeated microtext runs along the base. The artwork, back: A game of chinlone: six players ringed around a rattan ball, one lifting a knee to strike it, all worked in the same brown line engraving against a hatched riverbank and a spreading tree. The scene reads as a village clearing rather than an arena — chinlone is cooperative, not scored. CENTRAL BANK OF MYANMAR above in Roman capitals, FIVE KYATS below, with the Burmese ၅ and a western 5 flanking. In circulation: Part of the undated Central Bank of Myanmar series introduced in the mid-1990s, replacing the earlier Union of Myanmar small change. Inflation soon stripped the 5 kyat of purchasing power, and it disappeared from everyday hands as the 1,000-, 5,000- and later 10,000-kyat notes took over. It remains legal tender in name only. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Myanmar (မြန်မာနိုင်ငံတော်ဗဟိုဘဏ်) | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Five Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: Undated Central Bank of Myanmar issue, mid-1990s | Watermark: Chinthe head | Security: Line of repeated microtext along the base of the plinth; red serial with two-letter Roman prefix and a matching Burmese-numeral serial #### K10 — Ten Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-10/ The artwork, front: A chinthe — the leogryph that guards pagoda stairways across Burma — seated in three-quarter profile, mane in tight scales, tail flaring into a flame-like curl. Behind it, a pale ground of lotus-petal and floral guilloche in cream, mint and mauve. The Burmese title of the Central Bank runs along the top panel, the value spelt out in Burmese script at centre, with "10" upper right and the Burmese numeral in the lower corner. Serials in red: Burmese above, Latin at lower left. The artwork, back: The Karaweik, the royal barge moored on Kandawgyi Lake in Yangon, rendered in fine grey line engraving: twin hintha-bird prows, tiered pyatthat roofs and a tall central spire, all reflected in stippled water. "CENTRAL BANK OF MYANMAR" heads the note in a hatched band with the Burmese numeral, "TEN KYATS" below, and a slim diamond-shaped ornament at the left edge. The right third is left plain for the watermark. In circulation: Part of the Central Bank of Myanmar's undated kyat family introduced from the mid-1990s, this 10 kyats circulated widely as small change before inflation pushed everyday transactions onto the 1,000 and 5,000 kyat notes. It has not been reprinted, and though technically still current it is now seldom encountered in trade. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Myanmar — Burmese title on the face, English on the back | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Ten Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: Undated kyat issue, ca. 1997 | Watermark: Chinthe head, in the plain panel at right of the back | Security: Serial numbers in red, twice: Burmese numerals on the face at right, Latin prefix and seven digits at lower left (AG 6123566) #### K20 — Twenty Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-20/ The artwork, front: A chinthe — the mythical leogryph that guards pagoda stairways across Burma — sits in three-quarter profile, mane and flame-scroll tail rendered in fine engraving. Above, the Burmese legend for the Central Bank of Myanmar runs in a lattice-filled panel; the value "Twenty Kyats" appears in Burmese script across a lotus rosette at centre. Denomination in Western numerals top left, Burmese ၂၀ at the right and lower left. Red serial, prefix BP. The artwork, back: Two scenes in one frame: at the left, the broad stepped terraces and flagstaff-lined walk of a public park, with strollers picked out in miniature; at the right, the tiered elephant fountain of the Yangon zoological gardens, white elephants ranged around both basins with water jetting from the crowning spire. "CENTRAL BANK OF MYANMAR" above, "TWENTY KYATS" on the green band below. In circulation: Issued from 1994 as part of the Central Bank of Myanmar's chinthe series, which replaced the earlier Union of Burma Bank notes. It remains legal tender, but steady inflation and the arrival of 1,000 and 5,000 kyat notes have pushed the 20 out of everyday use; it survives mainly as small change and temple offerings. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Myanmar | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Twenty Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: Chinthe series, from 1994 | Printer: Security Printing Works, Wazi | Watermark: Chinthe head #### K50 — Fifty Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-50-af76/ The artwork, front: A seated chinthe — the leogryph that guards pagoda stairways across Burma — fills the right half, mane and scale-work engraved in deep red, facing left with mouth open. To its left the denomination is spelled out in Burmese script over a rosette of guilloche in pink and pale green, with "Central Bank of Myanmar" in Burmese along the top panel. Burmese numerals ၅၀ at the corners, western 50 top right, red serial with an AF prefix. The artwork, back: A lacquerware craftsman at work: seated cross-legged in a Bagan workshop, turning a small vessel in his hands, surrounded by finished bowls, cups, offering stands and a tall tiered hsun-ok box in a warm plum ink. "CENTRAL BANK OF MYANMAR" arches across the top, "FIFTY KYATS" below in blue-green, flanked by numerals in both scripts and foliate medallions in the side panels. In circulation: Part of the Central Bank of Myanmar series introduced in 1994, replacing the earlier 45- and 90-kyat oddities of the Ne Win era. It circulated widely through the later 1990s, then faded as inflation pushed everyday spending onto the 1,000-kyat note and, from 2009 onward, the 5,000 and 10,000. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Myanmar | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Fifty Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: 1994 issue, chinthe type | Watermark: Chinthe head | Security: Red serial, AF prefix; Burmese and western numerals #### K100 — One Hundred Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-100/ The artwork, front: A chinthe, the mythical leonine guardian that sits in pairs at the foot of Burmese pagoda stairways, rendered in deep blue and shown seated in three-quarter profile with flame-like mane and scaled haunches. The top panel carries the bank's name in Burmese script; the value appears as 100 in Western figures and ၁၀၀ in Burmese numerals, with "one hundred kyats" spelled out in Burmese over a red lotus-leaf cartouche. Red serial, Latin prefix. The artwork, back: A working scene: craftsmen seated on the ground with round trays and tools, one reaching up to a richly carved column, another kneeling at a plank. Behind them, a tiered pagoda spire and pavilion roofs among palms, drawn faintly in green. The whole is framed by orange and violet peacock-feather guilloche and floral corner medallions, with ONE HUNDRED KYATS in an orange band across the foot. In circulation: Part of the Central Bank of Myanmar's 1994 issue and still legal tender, though inflation has long since pushed daily trade onto the 1,000, 5,000 and 10,000 kyat notes introduced from 1998 onwards. The design has not been replaced; hundreds simply turn up worn and soft, as this one is. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Myanmar, named in Burmese across the top panel | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: One Hundred Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: 1994 issue; undated, as all Burmese notes of the period | Watermark: Chinthe head | Signature: None — the note carries no signatures or titles #### K200 — Two Hundred Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-200/ The artwork, front: A seated chinthe, the crowned leonine guardian that flanks the stairways of Burmese pagodas, fills the right half in fine blue-green engraving, tail curling into a flame. Burmese script across the top reads Central Bank of Myanmar, with the denomination in words below on a rosette of guilloche. Serial numbers appear twice in red — Latin letters and figures at the left, Burmese numerals at the right — and a star-in-wreath device sits in the pink panel. The artwork, back: An elephant in working harness, its mahout astride the neck, hauling a teak log through a river bank shaded by tall trunks — the timber trade that has long carried Burma's export earnings. To the left, a stylised flaming torch with the star emblem; the value 200 sits in a blue medallion. Titles in English here: CENTRAL BANK OF MYANMAR above, TWO HUNDRED KYATS below, with Burmese numerals at bottom left. In circulation: Introduced in 1990 as part of the Central Bank of Myanmar's reformed series, alongside the 500 kyat, after the demonetisations of the late 1980s. The design was never redrawn; higher values — 1,000, then 5,000 and 10,000 kyat — took over everyday use as prices rose, leaving the 200 a small-change note. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Myanmar (မြန်မာနိုင်ငံတော်ဗဟိုဘဏ်) | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Two Hundred Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: Undated Central Bank of Myanmar issue, from 1990 | Watermark: Chinthe head | Security: Serial number in Latin and Burmese numerals, printed in red #### K500 — Five Hundred Kyat URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burma-500-cj64/ The artwork, front: A seated chinthe — the mythical leogryph that guards the stairways of Burmese pagodas — rendered in fine engraved line, mane scaled like armour, one forepaw resting on a plinth of stylised foliage. The Burmese header reads Central Bank of Myanmar, with the value spelled out in Burmese script at centre and the numeral ၅၀၀ in the ornamental corner panels. Latin 500 top left, red serial with a two-letter prefix lower right. The artwork, back: An artisans' scene in warm brown: a crowned royal figure in full court dress stands on a timber platform while craftsmen kneel and work around him, one with a mallet, another shaping the robe. Behind, a crucible smokes under a thatched canopy; to the right a stilted pavilion and a porter with shoulder-yoke baskets. English legends above and below — CENTRAL BANK OF MYANMAR, FIVE HUNDRED KYATS — on violet bands. In circulation: Introduced in 1994 as part of the Central Bank of Myanmar's decimal series that replaced the odd 45 and 90 kyat denominations of the 1980s. It circulated heavily through the 1990s and 2000s before a redesigned 500 kyat appeared in the 2000s, and while inflation and the larger 1,000, 5,000 and 10,000 kyat notes have long since eclipsed it, the note was never demonetised. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Myanmar (မြန်မာနိုင်ငံတော်ဗဟိုဘဏ်) | Currency: Kyat (K) | Denomination: Five Hundred Kyat | Collected: on the Burma journey, 2001 | Series: 1994 chinthe issue | Signature: None — notes of this series carry no signatures or titles | Security: Red serial, prefix CJ, in Latin letters and figures ### Burundi — 1 note (Franc) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burundi/ #### FBu50 — Fifty Francs URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/burundi-50/ The artwork, front: A drummer in white wrap and bare shoulder, mid-stroke with both sticks raised over the tall Burundian karyenda drums — the ingoma tradition that gives the country its ceremonial voice. Behind him, orange and green chequered banners and, at the right edge, conical thatched roofs. The value reads twice: CINQUANTE FRANCS in French, AMAFRANGA MIRONGO ITANU in Kirundi, inside a large medallion at the left. The artwork, back: The arms of Burundi fill the centre: a lion's mask on a shield, three crossed traditional spears behind it, and the motto UNITE TRAVAIL PROGRES on the ribbon below, with UBUMWE, IBIKORWA, AMAJAMBERE arched above in Kirundi. The bank's name is set twice, French to the left and Kirundi to the right, with a bilingual counterfeiting warning in the panel at the foot and 50 in each corner. In circulation: A long-lived design of the Banque de la République du Burundi, issued through the 1970s to the early 1990s with the date changed on each printing — this one 1 October 1991. The 50-franc note was later superseded by coin and by the higher denominations that inflation made the everyday money. Details: Issuer: Banque de la République du Burundi / Ibanki ya Republika y'Uburundi | Currency: Franc (FBu) | Denomination: Fifty Francs | Collected: on the Burundi journey, 1992 | Series: Dated 01-10-91 | Signature: Two: L'Administrateur and Le Gouverneur | Security: Bilingual counterfeiting warning on the back: "Le contrefacteur est puni de servitude pénale / Uwuzokwigana iyi noti azofungwa" ### Cambodia — 4 notes (Riel) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cambodia/ #### ៛100 — One Hundred Riels URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cambodia-100/ The artwork, front: The Independence Monument in Phnom Penh, the lotus-shaped stupa tower raised in 1958 to mark the end of French rule, drawn in deep purple against palms and low city rooftops. To its right, one of the guardian lions on its plinth. The issuer's name in Khmer runs along the top, the value "មួយរយរៀល 100" across the foot, with a naga's tail curling up the left of the vignette. The artwork, back: A long, low colonnaded school building with a pedimented central block, its forecourt full of pupils and teachers — a scene of ordinary school life rather than ceremony. Guilloche rosettes and a pale green foliate medallion fill the field behind. "NATIONAL BANK OF CAMBODIA" and the date 2001 sit top right in Latin script, the only non-Khmer wording on the note. In circulation: Dated 2001 and issued in quantity as the workhorse small note of the decade, it stayed in everyday use long after — 100 riel remains legal tender. A redesigned 100 riel dated 2014, carrying King Norodom Sihamoni, has since taken over the denomination, though older 2001 pieces still turn up in change. Details: Issuer: National Bank of Cambodia (ធនាគារជាតិនៃកម្ពុជា) | Currency: Riel (៛) | Denomination: One Hundred Riels | Collected: on the Cambodia journey, 2009 | Series: Dated 2001 | Signature: Two signatures in Khmer, Governor (ទេសាភិបាល) and General Cashier (អគ្គបេឡា) | Security: Red serial number with two-letter Khmer prefix (កប) #### ៛500 — Five Hundred Riels URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cambodia-500/ The artwork, front: Angkor Wat seen from the western causeway, its five lotus towers rendered in fine engraved line, with the colonnaded gallery and a naga balustrade head rising at the left edge. The issuer's name in Khmer runs across the top, the value ៥០០ at upper left and 500 at lower right, and the denomination spelled out — ប្រាំរយរៀល, five hundred riel — along the foot above the counterfeiting warning. The artwork, back: The Kizuna Bridge at Kampong Cham, the long concrete span carrying National Road 7 over the Mekong, built with Japanese assistance. A car runs up the approach past a guardian lion on its plinth and a naga-crested monument at the bridgehead, street lamps stepping away into the distance. "NATIONAL BANK OF CAMBODIA / 2004" sits plainly at upper right, with the value repeated three times below. In circulation: Part of the National Bank's modern low-value family, this 2004-dated printing joined the earlier 500 riel and circulated widely for everyday small purchases, in the awkward company of US dollars. Later dated printings of the same denomination followed, and the design remains familiar in daily use across the country. Details: Issuer: National Bank of Cambodia — ធនាគារជាតិ នៃ កម្ពុជា | Currency: Riel (៛) | Denomination: Five Hundred Riels | Collected: on the Cambodia journey, 2009 | Series: Dated 2004 | Signature: Two: the Governor (ទេសាភិបាល) and the General Cashier (អគ្គបេឡា) | Security: Serial number printed twice in red, Khmer prefix ជង; counterfeiting warning in Khmer along the lower front #### ៛1000 — One Thousand Riels URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cambodia-1000/ The artwork, front: A brown-inked view of the south gate of Angkor Thom, its tower carved with the serene faces associated with the Bayon, and beside it the causeway lined with the row of stone giants who haul the naga balustrade. A seated stone guardian figure stands at the left of the vignette, and a multi-headed naga prow curls up from the lower border. The issuer's name in Khmer runs top right; "1000" top left and "មួយពាន់រៀល" — one thousand riel — across the foot, with a warning to counterfeiters beneath it. The artwork, back: Blue and slate engraving of the deep-water port at Sihanoukville: freighters alongside the quay, gantry and derrick cranes at work, a tug pushing across the foreground water and hills faint on the far shore. Fine rosette guilloche in orange and pink fills the sky. "NATIONAL BANK OF CAMBODIA" and the year 2007 sit in the clear right-hand panel, the Khmer issuer name arches above the ships, and heavy ornamental cartouches carry 1000 at both lower corners. In circulation: Part of the Angkor-and-industry family of riel notes introduced in the mid-2000s, this 1000 riel bears the 2007 date and circulated widely as everyday change alongside the US dollar. Later redesigned 1000 riel notes issued from the 2010s have largely displaced it in daily use, though older riel remain honoured by the National Bank. Details: Issuer: National Bank of Cambodia (ធនាគារជាតិ នៃ កម្ពុជា) | Currency: Riel (៛) | Denomination: One Thousand Riels | Collected: on the Cambodia journey, 2009 | Series: Dated 2007, printed in the clear panel on the back | Signature: Two: Governor (ទេសាភិបាល) and Cashier General (អគ្គបេឡា) | Security: Serial in Khmer-letter prefix and seven digits, black at lower left and red at upper right #### ៛2000 — Two Thousand Riels URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cambodia-2000/ The artwork, front: Prasat Preah Vihear, the cliff-top Khmer temple on the Dangrek escarpment, engraved in grey: a gopura with its steep tiered roof and pediment, flanking columns and tumbled masonry stretching away to the right, with a great naga balustrade curling up in the foreground. Khmer script names the National Bank of Cambodia above, the value in words below, with 2000 in Khmer numerals at each corner and matching serial numbers in red and black. The artwork, back: Harvest in the rice fields: a woman in a patterned blouse straightens up with a sickle and an armful of cut stalks, the grain picked out in yellow against otherwise grey engraving, while others bundle sheaves at the left. Behind them, across the paddy and a line of sugar palms, rise the five towers of Angkor Wat. Lotus and floral guilloche fill the margins; NATIONAL BANK OF CAMBODIA and 2007 sit top right. In circulation: Dated 2007 on the back and released the following year, this Preah Vihear design belongs to the run of Cambodian notes issued as the temple's status was being pressed internationally. It circulated alongside, and was later joined by, 2000 riel notes carrying King Norodom Sihamoni; both denominations remain in everyday use for small purchases. Details: Issuer: National Bank of Cambodia (ធនាគារជាតិនៃកម្ពុជា) | Currency: Riel (៛) | Denomination: Two Thousand Riels | Collected: on the Cambodia journey, 2009 | Series: Dated 2007; Preah Vihear type | Signature: Two: Governor (ទេសាភិបាល) and General Cashier (អគ្គបេឡា) ### Canada — 3 notes (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/canada/ #### $1 — One Dollar URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/canada-1/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II at right, engraved from a mid-1960s photograph and shown in a light gown with a simple necklace — the portrait used across the whole of this series. At left, the Canadian coat of arms in full colour on a yellow-green tint, lion and unicorn supporting the shield. Bilingual titles head the note, "UN 1 ONE DOLLAR CANADA" fills the centre, and the two serial numbers run red at left, blue at right above the signatures dated 1973. The artwork, back: A working river scene in deep green: logs boomed and rafted in the water with a small tug pushing them along, and beyond, on its wooded bluff, the Centre Block of the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa with the Peace Tower and the round Library at the right end. The Ottawa River timber trade and the seat of government in one view. Large "ONE" and "1" left, "1" and "UN" right, with the bilingual bank name along the foot. In circulation: Part of the Scenes of Canada series, this dollar was released in 1974 over the 1973 date and stayed in everyday use for well over a decade. No dollar note followed it: the Birds of Canada series began at two dollars, and the one-dollar coin of 1987 took over, the note being withdrawn soon after. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: One Dollar | Collected: on the Canada journey, 2011 | Issuer: Bank of Canada — Banque du Canada | Series: Scenes of Canada, dated 1973 | Signature: Lawson, Deputy Governor; Bouey, Governor | Dimensions: 152 × 70 mm #### $5 — Five Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/canada-5-1979/ The artwork, front: Sir Wilfrid Laurier, Prime Minister from 1896 to 1911, engraved at right in the modern-oval frame the series favoured, his white hair and wing collar carried in fine blue line-work. At left, the Royal Arms of Canada in full colour on a pale panel. Between them the bilingual legends — CINQ 5 FIVE DOLLARS CANADA, with "CE BILLET A COURS LEGAL" and "THIS NOTE IS LEGAL TENDER" — over OTTAWA 1979 and the two signatures. The artwork, back: A West Coast salmon seiner at work: two wooden boats riding close together in a sheltered inlet, crew hauling the purse seine in over the roller while the corks of the net trail across the water. Mountains and headlands fade behind in flat engraved tone. FIVE and a large 5 at left, 5 and CINQ at right, and the serial number repeated twice below the vignette. In circulation: The 1979 date marks the last recasting of the Scenes of Canada five, the design having first appeared at the end of the 1960s multicoloured series. It served through the early 1980s until the Birds of Canada five, with its belted kingfisher, took over from 1986 and pushed Laurier's fishing boats out of tills. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Five Dollars | Collected: on the Canada journey, 2011 | Issuer: Bank of Canada / Banque du Canada | Series: Scenes of Canada, 1979 issue | Signature: R.W. Lawson, Deputy Governor; G.K. Bouey, Governor | Security: Serial number moved to the back and set twice in machine-readable digits, with no letter prefix | Dimensions: 152 × 70 mm #### $5 — Five Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/canada-5-1986/ The artwork, front: Sir Wilfrid Laurier, Canada's seventh prime minister, engraved facing slightly right with his famous shock of white hair. Above him the Canadian coat of arms; to the right, the Parliament Buildings on their Ottawa ridge with the flag flying. A large ornamental 5 fills the left third, wrapped around the words BANK OF CANADA and BANQUE DU CANADA. Below: CE BILLET A COURS LEGAL / THIS NOTE IS LEGAL TENDER, two signatures, and CINQ·DOLLARS·FIVE. Marked OTTAWA 1986, LAURIER. The artwork, back: A belted kingfisher — martin-pêcheur, named in both languages beneath the vignette — perched on a bare branch above a marshy shoreline, crest raised, dagger bill pointed down at the water. Behind it a low range of hills and a still lake; reeds and grasses run the width of the note. Pale outline letters spelling CANADA fill the upper panel. The serial number appears twice in black along the bottom, with sorting bars at the left.· In circulation: The $5 of the Birds of Canada series appeared in 1986, replacing the Scenes of Canada design of 1979. It circulated through the 1990s until the Canadian Journey $5 of 2002, which kept Laurier but turned the back over to children at play on ice. The Birds notes were later withdrawn from circulation. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Five Dollars | Collected: on the Canada journey, 2011 | Issuer: Bank of Canada / Banque du Canada | Series: Birds of Canada, dated Ottawa 1986 | Signature: Two signatures at centre: Deputy Governor / Sous-Gouverneur and Gouverneur / Governor | Security: Serial number GNH0426277 printed twice in black on the back, with machine-sorting bars | Dimensions: 152 × 70 mm ### Cayman Islands — 1 note (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cayman-islands/ #### CI$1 — One Dollar URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cayman-islands-1/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II fills the right third, crowned and in evening dress, the Cayman Islands coat of arms beside her shoulder. Behind, a shoal of angelfish in orange and pale blue drifts across a faint chart of the three islands — Grand Cayman, Little Cayman and Cayman Brac, each named in small type. A blue roundel reads "Celebrate Cayman, 60 Years, Our First Constitution". Signed by the Minister of Finance and the Managing Director; serial Q/2 668269 twice. The artwork, back: A single vignette, printed in yellows and dusty reds: a limestone bluff rising in a sheer face above scrub-covered slopes and a pale strip of shore, the sort of ironshore headland that gives the Brac its height. Blue and turquoise guilloche work sweeps round it. A conch-shell motif sits top left, a half angelfish at the right edge, matching its other half on the face. In circulation: The 2018 series carries the sixtieth-anniversary roundel for the islands' first written constitution of 1959, and reached tills shortly after. It remains legal tender and in everyday use alongside the earlier CIMA dollars, the Queen's portrait still the standard face until a Charles III design is prepared. Details: Currency: Dollar (CI$) | Denomination: One Dollar | Collected: on the Cayman Islands journey, 2022 | Issuer: Cayman Islands Monetary Authority | Series: 2018 Series, issued under the Monetary Authority Law; "Celebrate Cayman — 60 Years" commemorative roundel | Printer: Crane Currency (imprinted at the foot of the back) | Signature: Minister of Finance and Managing Director | Security: See-through register: the half angelfish at the edge of each side completes when held to the light | Dimensions: 156 × 66 mm ### China — 9 notes (Renminbi) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china/ #### ¥1 — One Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-1/ In circulation: Came home from the China journeys of 2005–2006 — one of 9 China notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: People's Bank of China | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: One Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 #### ¥1 — One Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-1-1/ In circulation: Came home from the China journeys of 2005–2006 — one of 9 China notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: People's Bank of China | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: One Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 #### ¥1 — One Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-1-ethnic/ The artwork, front: Two young women in profile, drawn from the Yao and Dong peoples — one in a wrapped, embroidered headcloth, the others with heavy hoop and coil earrings and hair gathered high. Behind them a woven brocade panel carries the numeral 1. To the left, the People's Bank of China emblem above the bank's name in Chinese, then swallows and plum blossom in blue and rust framing 壹圓, one yuan. The artwork, back: The Great Wall, seen running along a ridge line with watchtowers stepping up through folded, hatched mountains — the standard view from the Badaling stretch. Two red seals of the bank sit either side. Along the foot, the denomination in Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang script, with ZHONGGUO RENMIN YINHANG above and YI YUAN and the year 1996 below. In circulation: The fourth series one yuan, this variety dated 1996 and the last of the ethnic-portrait notes. The fifth series one yuan of 1999, bearing Mao Zedong, gradually took its place, and the fourth series notes were formally withdrawn from circulation on 1 May 2018, leaving only the small jiao denominations current. Details: Issuer: People's Bank of China (中国人民银行 / Zhongguo Renmin Yinhang) | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: One Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 | Series: Fourth series renminbi, dated 1996 | Security: Serial number in red, two-letter prefix and eight digits (SK 29641705); intaglio portrait and Great Wall engraving | Dimensions: 140 × 63 mm #### ¥1 — One Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-1-jiao/ The artwork, front: Two men in profile, cut in fine brown line engraving: a Gaoshan man of Taiwan in a wrapped headcloth, behind him a Manchu man — one of the pairs of ethnic nationalities that run through the whole 1980 jiao series. The issuer's name, 中国人民银行, sits along the top; the value 壹角 fills a lozenge of guilloche to the right, with small numerals 1 in the lower corners. Serial number in red, two letters and eight digits. The artwork, back: Restrained and largely ornamental: the national emblem of the People's Republic — Tiananmen beneath five stars, framed by grain ears and a cogwheel — set in a diamond at the centre, with brown and ochre rosettes either side carrying the figure 1. "ZHONGGUO RENMIN YINHANG" runs across the top, "YI JIAO" at the right, and 1980 below the emblem. Along the foot, the bank's name in Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang. In circulation: The dated year is 1980; this 1 jiao note was released in 1988 as part of the fourth series renminbi. When the fourth series was demonetised from 1 May 2019 the 1 jiao and 5 jiao notes were expressly excluded, so it remains legal tender — though coins long ago took over small change in practice. Details: Issuer: 中国人民银行 — People's Bank of China | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: One Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 | Series: Fourth series renminbi, dated 1980 | Dimensions: 115 × 52 mm #### ¥1 — One Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-1-mao/ The artwork, front: Mao Zedong in later life, three-quarter view above his dates, 毛泽东 1893–1976 — the single portrait carried by every denomination of this series. To the left, 中国人民银行 in bold characters, the national emblem with its five stars and Tiananmen gate, and the value twice: a large numeral 1 and 壹圆 in formal characters, set over an engraved orchid. A red serial, HI24809959, sits at lower left, with fine dots punched through the pale panel. The artwork, back: Three Pools Mirroring the Moon on the West Lake at Hangzhou: the little stone pagoda-lanterns standing out of the water, their round openings cut through the shafts, with the wooded shore and a bridge behind and a sailing boat on the flat water. Above, ZHONGGUO RENMIN YINHANG in Latin letters with the bank's name in Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang. Below, 1 YUAN and the date 1999年 beside a red seal. In circulation: Part of the fifth series of the renminbi, launched from 1999 and still the basis of Chinese money today. This 1999-dated one yuan was later joined and largely displaced by a re-dated 2004 version of the same design, and from 2019 by a further updated note. All remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: 中国人民银行 — People's Bank of China (Zhongguo Renmin Yinhang) | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: One Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 | Series: Fifth series of the renminbi, dated 1999 | Security: See-through register: dot patterns on front and back align to the denomination against the light; square-holed ancient coin motif at right of the back | Dimensions: 130 × 63 mm #### ¥2 — Two Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-2-jiao/ The artwork, front: Two young women in profile, heads turned right, in the fourth series' engraved manner: a Bouyei woman in a patterned folded headcloth, and behind her a Korean (Chaoxian) woman with plain drawn-back hair and a collared jacket. The right two-thirds is given over to a deep green medallion of scrolls, leaves and lozenge borders framing 贰角 in bold white characters, with 中国人民银行 along the top and a large 2 in the corner. Serial in red at lower left. The artwork, back: Pure ornament in green with a warm tan centre panel: the national emblem of the People's Republic — Tiananmen beneath five stars, ringed by ears of grain and a cogwheel — set in a lattice of geometric and floral tilework. "ZHONGGUO RENMIN YINHANG" runs across the top, the date 1980 sits in a cartouche below the emblem, numeral 2 to either side with "ERJIAO" at the right, and a bottom strip carries the denomination in Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang. In circulation: Part of the fourth series renminbi, dated 1980 and released in the second half of the 1980s. The 2 jiao note stayed in tills through the 1990s before inflation and coinage pushed it aside; it ceased to be legal tender on 1 May 2018, when the fourth series was withdrawn apart from the 1 and 5 jiao. Details: Issuer: 中国人民银行 — Zhongguo Renmin Yinhang (People's Bank of China) | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: Two Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 | Series: Fourth series renminbi, dated 1980; two-letter serial prefix (QM) and eight digits | Dimensions: 120 × 55 mm #### ¥5 — Five Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-5/ The artwork, front: Mao Zedong, in a plain tunic, taken from the standard late portrait used across the whole fifth series and captioned 毛泽东 1893–1976. The national emblem sits top left, the bank's name 中国人民银行 runs across the head of the note, and the value appears twice — as a large figure 5 and in Chinese characters, 伍圓, above a spray of narcissus. Serial PF35284547. Embossed dots for the blind at lower right. The artwork, back: A steep, wooded gorge in violet intaglio with the sun breaking over the ridge behind: Mount Tai in Shandong, the eastern peak of China's five sacred mountains, with the rock-cut inscription 五岳独尊 — "most honoured of the five peaks" — legible on the cliff at left. The issuer's name is repeated in pinyin and in Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang script panels, with the date 1999年 below. In circulation: The 1999-dated five was released in late 2002, well after the hundred that opened the fifth series. A near-identical 2005-dated revision followed and took over general circulation, and a fully redesigned five, in silver-grey polymer-coated paper, appeared in November 2020. Notes of this design remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: 中国人民银行 — Zhongguo Renmin Yinhang (People's Bank of China) | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: Five Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 | Series: Fifth series, dated 1999 | Security: Raised intaglio printing; embossed dot cluster at lower right for the visually impaired | Dimensions: 135 × 63 mm #### ¥5 — Five Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-5-jiao/ The artwork, front: Two young women in right profile, drawn from the Miao and Zhuang nationalities — the nearer one heavy with silver headdress, tassels and a spiral ear ornament, the other in a wrapped embroidered head-cloth. The issuer's name, 中国人民银行, runs along the top; the denomination 伍角 sits in a medallion of dense scrollwork at right, with figure 5 in each lower corner and a red serial, prefix PX, across the base. The artwork, back: The national emblem of the People's Republic — five stars above Tiananmen, framed by ears of grain and a cogwheel — centred in a lace-like guilloche of blue, violet and rose, with the date 1980 below it. Pinyin "ZHONGGUO RENMIN YINHANG" heads the note, "WU JIAO" and the figure 5 balance left and right, and the foot carries Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang text. In circulation: This 5 jiao of the fourth renminbi series, dated 1980, went into circulation in 1987 and stayed there far longer than its stablemates. When the People's Bank withdrew the fourth series on 1 May 2018 the 1 jiao and 5 jiao notes were exempted, though coins had long since taken over daily use. Details: Issuer: 中国人民银行 — People's Bank of China | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: Five Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 | Series: Fourth series renminbi, dated 1980 | Signature: None; two square seals in Chinese seal script on the back | Security: Minority-language panels in Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang; two-letter red serial #### ¥10 — Ten Yuan URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/china-10/ The artwork, front: Mao Zedong in the high-collared tunic, three-quarter view, engraved in grey-green against a wash of pink and pale blue, with his name and dates, 1893–1976, beneath the shoulder. Left of centre, the numeral 10 above 拾圆 in seal-like frame, and a rose in warm orange. The national emblem sits top left, the bank's name in Chinese across the head of the note, serial number below in red-prefixed black. The artwork, back: The Yangtze at Kuimen, the gateway to Qutang Gorge — sheer cliffs closing in on the water, the ranges receding into mist, all worked in fine grey-green line. ZHONGGUO RENMIN YINHANG runs across the top in Latin capitals, with the bank's name repeated in Mongolian, Tibetan, Uyghur and Zhuang script beneath. Large 10 at each left corner and the date 1999 at foot. In circulation: The fifth series 10 was released in 2001 and remains legal tender. A revised printing dated 2005 followed, tightening the security features, and a further update dated 2019 brought brighter inks and a redesigned thread. The design itself — Mao and the Three Gorges — has not changed. Details: Issuer: The People's Bank of China (中国人民银行) | Currency: Yuan (¥) | Denomination: Ten Yuan | Collected: on the China journeys, 2005–2006 | Series: Fifth series, dated 1999 | Watermark: Portrait of Mao Zedong, in the plain left panel | Dimensions: 140 × 70 mm ### Colombia — 4 notes (Peso) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/colombia/ #### $2000 — Two Thousand Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/colombia-2000/ The artwork, front: Débora Arango Pérez (1907–2005), captioned simply "artista", laughing open-mouthed — an unusually informal portrait for a banknote. Behind her, the standing woman in jacket and skirt is drawn from her own painting, with a smaller dancing figure sketched alongside. To the left, the lechoso flower (Cavendishia adenophora) and a bird in red, white and blue. "BANCO DE LA REPÚBLICA / COLOMBIA" runs along the base, with DOS MIL PESOS set vertically at the right. The artwork, back: The pink and ochre riverbed of Caño Cristales in the Serranía de la Macarena, its terraces and mesa reduced to engraved line and wash. Across the right half, birds and blossom taken from her painting "El Cardenal", named in quotation marks. Above them, a short statement by Débora Arango Pérez on art and morality, set in small capitals, and the Banco de la República seal with its classical head. In circulation: Part of the peso family rolled out from 2015, this 2,000-peso note entered circulation in 2016 and remains in daily use as the lowest-value Colombian note in print. The dated imprint on this example, 26 July 2022, marks a later printing rather than a new design. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Two Thousand Pesos | Issuer: Banco de la República, Colombia | Series: Dated 26 de julio de 2022; serial CD70740072 | Printer: Imprenta de Billetes, Banco de la República | Security: Windowed thread repeating "BRC" | Signature: Gerente General and Gerente Ejecutiva | Dimensions: 128 × 66 mm #### $5000 — Five Thousand Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/colombia-5000/ The artwork, front: José Asunción Silva (1865–1896), the Bogotá poet, in three-quarter view against a field of brown and rust hexagons, his name and dates set small beside the collar. To the left he appears again, full length and seen from behind — hat, overcoat, hands clasped over a walking stick. A puya flower carrying the numeral 5 and a bumblebee fill the pale panel, above the bank's name in Spanish. The artwork, back: A páramo in soft blues and greys: frailejones of several heights climbing towards ridged mountains, a bird gliding high over the range, and a bee at the right marked "abejorro". The caption reads "Páramos de Colombia — Fuentes de agua". Silva's poem "Melancolía" is printed in full beside the Liberty-head seal of the Banco de la República. In circulation: Part of the peso family rolled out from 2016, which replaced the long-running 1990s design — itself also fronted by Silva. Dated 26 May 2020, it remains current, circulating alongside the older 5,000 note until that type was withdrawn. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Five Thousand Pesos | Issuer: Banco de la República, Colombia | Series: 2016 family; dated 26 de mayo de 2020 | Printer: Imprenta de Billetes — Banco de la República | Security: Windowed thread in magenta reading BRC with bee motifs; hexagonal guilloche field | Signature: Gerente General and Gerente Ejecutiva | Dimensions: 133 × 66 mm #### $10000 — Ten Thousand Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/colombia-10000/ The artwork, front: Virginia Gutiérrez de Pineda in red-brown, her name and dates printed small beside the shoulder, with a second, full-length figure of her standing in coat and skirt at the centre — an unusual double treatment. Left of her, a gold-brown oval bearing a tree frog and the word RANA ARBORÍCOLA, a shifting "10", and a Victoria amazonica bloom. "BANCO DE LA REPÚBLICA / COLOMBIA" and the two signatures sit lower left, with raised tactile bars in the corner. The artwork, back: The Amazon seen from above: a great looping meander of pale river cutting through ochre and green forest, captioned AMAZONAS Y LA GENTE DE RÍO. An anaconda coils along the lower left, a man poles a dugout canoe across the water, and a Victoria regia lily opens at the right. Above, a passage of Gutiérrez de Pineda's writing in small type, beside the bank's seal with the head of Liberty. A green windowed thread runs vertically through the design., of Colombian notes.replacing the older Policarpa Salavarrieta note. In circulation: Part of the family of notes Banco de la República introduced from 2015–16, this 10,000 replaced the long-running Policarpa Salavarrieta design. It remains current, reprinted with updated dates and signatures — this one dated 27 July 2021 — and circulates alongside the 2,000, 5,000, 20,000, 50,000 and 100,000 of the same series. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Ten Thousand Pesos | Issuer: Banco de la República, Colombia | Series: 2016 series; this printing dated 27 de julio de 2021 | Printer: Imprenta de Billetes — Banco de la República | Signature: Gerente General (L. Villar) and Gerente Ejecutiva | Security: Green windowed security thread, colour-shifting tree frog patch with "10", raised tactile marks for the blind | Dimensions: 138 × 66 mm #### $20000 — Twenty Thousand Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/colombia-20000/ The artwork, front: Alfonso López Michelsen, President of Colombia 1974–1978, in heavy spectacles with his mouth open mid-speech, the caption spelled out beside him. To the left the same man stands full length in a suit, hat in hand, and behind him a branch of anón (Annona squamosa) in green. The denomination reads "20 MIL PESOS" and, vertically, "VEINTE MIL PESOS", with two signatures for the Gerente General and Gerente Ejecutiva above the issuer's name. The artwork, back: A woman walks away carrying a great sheaf of caña flecha fibre over her shoulder, the raw material of the sombrero vueltiao; one of the finished hats, with its dark and pale plaited bands, sits in the lower left corner. The centre is given to an aerial map of the Sistema Hidráulico Prehispánico de los Zenúes, the pre-Hispanic canal fields of the San Jorge floodplain, with the seal of the Banco de la República above. In circulation: Part of the peso family introduced in 2016, this design took over from the long-running Julio Garavito 20,000 of the previous series. It remains legal tender and in everyday use; this piece carries the later date of 27 July 2021, the design itself unchanged since first issue. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Twenty Thousand Pesos | Issuer: Banco de la República — Colombia | Series: 2016 family; dated 27 de julio de 2021 | Printer: Imprenta de Billetes, Banco de la República | Signature: Gerente General and Gerente Ejecutiva | Security: Windowed security thread, see-through register completed by matching discs front and back, serial number in two positions (prefix of two letters and eight digits) ### Croatia — 3 notes (Kuna) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/croatia/ #### kn10 — Ten Kunas URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/croatia-10/ The artwork, front: Juraj Dobrila (1812–1882), the Istrian bishop and national awakener, engraved in three-quarter profile in clerical dress, his dates set vertically beside him. Left of centre sit the chequered Croatian coat of arms and a small see-through register panel; the field behind carries faint architectural motifs and a large orange-and-brown 10. "HRVATSKA NARODNA BANKA" runs up the left edge, with DESET KUNA beside the numeral. Serial B4789319E appears twice. The artwork, back: The Arena at Pula, the Roman amphitheatre of the first century AD, drawn from the seaward side with its tiers of arches and the three rectangular towers intact — captioned "PULA, ARENA, I. ST. POSLIJE KRISTA". Below it, an outline ground plan of the hill town of Motovun with its ring of walls. Pale green and turquoise tones, a bold 10 at right, and the Zagreb dating and governor's signature on the white margin. In circulation: The kuna returned as Croatia's currency in 1994, and this 10 kuna design ran with only detail changes through successive print dates, this one dated 9 July 2012. It stayed in use until the euro replaced the kuna on 1 January 2023, with kuna notes accepted alongside euros for a fortnight afterwards. Details: Currency: Kuna (kn) | Denomination: Ten Kunas | Collected: on the Croatia journey, 2018 | Issuer: Hrvatska narodna banka (Croatian National Bank) | Series: Dated Zagreb, 9 July 2012 (9. srpnja 2012.) | Signature: Boris Vujčić, Guverner | Dimensions: 126 × 62 mm #### kn20 — Twenty Kunas URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/croatia-20/ The artwork, front: Josip Jelačić, Ban of Croatia, in military dress with a star-shaped order at his breast; his dates, 1801–1859, run vertically beside him. To the left, the Croatian chequy shield and coat of arms, a large red diamond motif, and the value as a bold red 20. The issuer, HRVATSKA NARODNA BANKA, reads up the left edge, with DVADESET KUNA beside it; HNB KUNA microtext fills the right-hand panel. Serial A2631578V appears twice. The artwork, back: The Eltz Manor at Vukovar, an eighteenth-century baroque palace stretched across the width of the note in rose and red, its long arcaded wing and dormered roof drawn in fine line engraving. In front of it stands the Vučedol dove, the ritual vessel of about 2800–2500 BC found nearby, captioned with its dates. Yellow security print scatters across the field; the value 20 sits at right, DVADESET KUNA up the panel. In circulation: The kuna series designed in 1993 carried this 20 kuna through to the end of the currency. This particular printing is dated 30 May 2014 at Zagreb. Croatia adopted the euro on 1 January 2023, with kuna notes ceasing to be legal tender after a fortnight of dual circulation; the Croatian National Bank still exchanges them. Details: Currency: Kuna (kn) | Denomination: Twenty Kunas | Collected: on the Croatia journey, 2018 | Issuer: Hrvatska narodna banka (Croatian National Bank) | Series: Dated Zagreb, 30 svibnja 2014 | Printer: Giesecke & Devrient, Germany (credited in the left margin of the back) | Signature: Boris Vujčić, Guverner | Dimensions: 129 × 64 mm #### kn50 — Fifty Kunas URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/croatia-50/ The artwork, front: Ivan Gundulić, the Dubrovnik poet, in a great cascading wig — captioned with his name and dates beneath the portrait. To the left, the Croatian chequy coat of arms and an ornamental panel carrying the figure 50, with PEDESET KUNA and HRVATSKA NARODNA BANKA set vertically up the margin. The serial number appears twice, prefixed A and suffixed S, in matching upper-left and lower-right positions. The artwork, back: A bird's-eye view of old Dubrovnik, the walled city on its promontory with the sea worked in fine wave engraving, labelled DUBROVNIK above the rooftops. Below sits the arcaded Sponza Palace, drawn in flat elevation. The right-hand panel carries the place and date of issue, Zagreb, 9 srpnja 2012, above the Governor's signature, with the denomination repeated large at lower right. In circulation: The kuna series was introduced in 1994 and this 50-kuna design ran, in successive dated printings, until Croatia adopted the euro on 1 January 2023. Kuna notes remained legal tender through a short dual-circulation period in January 2023, after which euro banknotes replaced them entirely. Details: Currency: Kuna (kn) | Denomination: Fifty Kunas | Collected: on the Croatia journey, 2018 | Issuer: Hrvatska narodna banka (Croatian National Bank) | Series: Dated Zagreb, 9 July 2012 | Signature: Governor (single signature, reverse right panel) | Security: Holographic foil stripe at right of the face; see-through register formed by the arms device ### Cuba — 5 notes (Peso) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cuba/ #### $1 — One Peso URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cuba-1/ The artwork, front: José Martí in three-quarter view, engraved from the familiar late portrait — high forehead, heavy moustache, dark coat and bow tie — with his name in a panel beneath. "BANCO NACIONAL DE CUBA" arches across the top over "AÑO 1995"; the centre carries a large 1 on a rosette with PESO across it, and the national arms in red at right. The foot text pledges gold and foreign-exchange backing as an obligation of the Cuban state. The artwork, back: A crowded tableau captioned "Entrada a la Habana 8 de Enero de 1959": Fidel Castro standing on a vehicle with arm raised, Camilo Cienfuegos beside him in his cowboy hat, armed rebels with rifles and a flag pressing in below, and a mass of onlookers in militia caps and straw hats. Havana's apartment blocks rise behind, hung with Cuban flags, against a blue sky.the palongside the peso's legal-tender clause. in the lower panel., the a peso number "1" panels at either corner.", In circulation: Issued as part of the peso family the Banco Nacional de Cuba printed through the 1990s, with dated years running either side of 1995. Note-issuing authority passed to the Banco Central de Cuba in 1997, and later one-peso notes carry that name in place of this one, though the Martí and Havana designs continued. Details: Issuer: Banco Nacional de Cuba | Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: One Peso | Collected: on the Cuba journeys, 1996–2015 | Series: Año 1995; red serial with AA-03 prefix, printed twice on the face | Signature: Presidente del Banco #### $1 — One Peso URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cuba-1-convert/ The artwork, front: The obelisk and seated marble figure of the Monumento a José Martí in Havana's Plaza de la Revolución, captioned in small type at the right. Behind it, a rosette of radiating fan shapes over a stippled tan ground, with CUBA in a patterned band along the top. "UN PESO / pesos convertibles" sits at the centre above the convertibility guarantee text; the numeral 1 and a plain star fill the pale blue right-hand panel. The artwork, back: A single monochrome vignette on a lilac and pale yellow guilloche ground, captioned CAÍDA EN COMBATE DE JOSÉ MARTÍ: Martí falling at Dos Ríos in May 1895, his horse down in the grass and a riderless mount rearing among the trees behind. The wide right-hand panel is left blank but for a large numeral 1 and PESO CONVERTIBLE, with matching 1s in the lower corners. In circulation: The convertible peso ran alongside the ordinary Cuban peso from 1994, this design dated Año 2007. Monetary unification ended it: the CUC ceased to be legal tender at the start of 2021 and was redeemed over the following months, leaving the Cuban peso as the island's sole currency. Details: Issuer: Banco Central de Cuba | Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: One Peso | Collected: on the Cuba journeys, 1996–2015 | Series: Año 2007, peso convertible | Signature: Single signature, Presidente del Banco | Security: Printed guarantee of full backing by internationally convertible values, exchangeable for freely convertible currency at the Banco Central de Cuba; red serial AC 14 297127, horizontal and vertical #### $1 — One Peso URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cuba-1-hard/ In circulation: Came home from the Cuba journeys of 1996–2015 — one of 5 Cuba notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Banco Nacional de Cuba | Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: One Peso | Collected: on the Cuba journeys, 1996–2015 #### $10 — Ten Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cuba-10/ In circulation: Came home from the Cuba journeys of 1996–2015 — one of 5 Cuba notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Banco Nacional de Cuba | Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Ten Pesos | Collected: on the Cuba journeys, 1996–2015 #### $20 — Twenty Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/cuba-20/ In circulation: Came home from the Cuba journeys of 1996–2015 — one of 5 Cuba notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Banco Nacional de Cuba | Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Twenty Pesos | Collected: on the Cuba journeys, 1996–2015 ### Czech Republic — 1 note (Koruna) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/czech/ #### Kč20 — Twenty Korunas URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/czech-20/ The artwork, front: Přemysl Otakar I, King of Bohemia, named in small capitals at the right — a broad, bearded face under a crown, drawn from medieval seal imagery rather than any life portrait. Beside him, his great royal seal shows the king enthroned with sword and orb, ringed by its Latin legend. Below: DVACET KORUN ČESKÝCH and ČESKÁ NÁRODNÍ BANKA over a jewelled band, with the governor's signature and the year 1994. The artwork, back: The Přemyslid royal crown in strong blue, its arched band and cross-topped orb set against pale engraved drapery, with a second seal above showing the Virgin and Child enthroned. To the right, the quartered Czech arms — the Bohemian lion twice, the chequered Moravian eagle and the Silesian eagle. The serial number appears vertically at left and horizontally below, with the counterfeiting warning across the centre.the first year of the Czech Republic's own notes. 20being smallest of them. In circulation: Part of the first Czech series proper, introduced after the 1993 split from Czechoslovakia; this 1994 dated 20-korun note circulated through the 1990s and 2000s alongside a later variant of the same design. Twenty-korun notes lost legal tender status in 2008, the coin taking over the denomination entirely. Details: Currency: Koruna (Kč) | Denomination: Twenty Korunas | Collected: on the Czech Republic journey, 2006 | Issuer: Česká národní banka | Series: 1994, designed by Oldřich Kulhánek | Printer: Státní tiskárna cenin, Praha | Signature: Guvernér — Josef Tošovský | Dimensions: 128 × 64 mm ### Egypt — 3 notes (Pound) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/egypt/ #### E£1 — One Pound URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/egypt-1/ The artwork, front: The mosque of Sultan Qaytbay in Cairo's Northern Cemetery, its slender minaret and ribbed stone dome rising over the burial ground, captioned in Arabic along the lower edge. Everything else is Arabic: the Central Bank of Egypt's name in bold script across the upper right, "جنيه واحد" below it, the Governor's signature over the title المحافظ. Serial numbers in Arabic-Indic figures, with a letter prefix, appear twice. The ground is a dense arabesque of interlocking stars. The artwork, back: The rock-cut façade of the Great Temple at Abu Simbel: the four colossal seated figures of Ramesses II, one toppled at the shoulder, with the smaller family statues at their feet and the temple doorway between. Two royal cartouches in hieroglyphs flank the scene. This side carries the English text — "Central Bank of Egypt" above, "One Pound" below — with diamond-set numerals at the corners and bands of pharaonic relief across top and bottom. In circulation: The design dates from 1978 and has been reprinted with successive Governors' signatures ever since, making it one of the longest-running Egyptian notes. A one-pound coin introduced in 2005 took over most everyday use, and inflation has since pushed the note to the margins, but it has never been formally withdrawn. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Egypt — البنك المركزي المصري | Currency: Pound (E£) | Denomination: One Pound | Collected: on the Egypt journeys, 1992–1993 | Series: 1978 design, Sultan Qaytbay mosque / Abu Simbel | Printer: Printing House of the Central Bank of Egypt, Cairo | Watermark: Funerary mask of Tutankhamun | Signature: Governor (المحافظ), on the front at right #### E£5 — Five Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/egypt-5/ The artwork, front: The Mosque of Ahmad ibn Tulun in Cairo, captioned in Arabic beneath the frame with its ninth-century building dates — the spiral-ramped minaret rising against a lattice of pierced stucco, the arcaded sanctuary running the width of the note. To the right, "Central Bank of Egypt" and "five pounds" in Arabic script, over the Governor's signature. Octagonal 5 guilloches at either end, with tilework borders top and bottom. The artwork, back: English side: "Central Bank of Egypt" and FIVE POUNDS in shaded capitals, set over a rosette of coloured Pharaonic ornament. Centre, a relief of a king offering bound papyrus and lotus stems, hieroglyphs in the register behind him and a gazelle at his feet. Flanking friezes show ploughing with oxen and a line of men hauling a boat; at right, a sun disc trailing rayed hands. In circulation: An issue of the Central Bank's Arabic-and-English five pounds, current through the 1970s and 1980s, when it was one of the everyday larger notes. Later five-pound designs kept the Ibn Tulun mosque on the face but reworked the reverse and tightened the security printing, and this older type was withdrawn from circulation. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Egypt — البنك المركزي المصري | Currency: Pound (E£) | Denomination: Five Pounds | Collected: on the Egypt journeys, 1992–1993 | Series: Five pounds, Mosque of Ahmad ibn Tulun type; Arabic face, English back | Signature: Single signature, the Governor (المحافظ) | Security: Serial number twice on the face in Arabic-Indic numerals with an Arabic fraction prefix (٢٣/ك) #### E£50 — Fifty Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/egypt-50/ The artwork, front: The whole right-hand two-thirds is given to Al-Azhar in Cairo — the mosque and university founded under the Fatimids — drawn from the courtyard, with two of its slender minarets rising above the crenellated arcade and the ribbed dome behind. To the left, Arabic script for the Central Bank of Egypt and "fifty piastres", the Governor's signature above his title, and the serial in Arabic-Indic numerals with the ٥٠/٤ prefix. The artwork, back: A pharaonic statue in three-quarter view, arms crossed over the chest holding crook and flail, wearing the nemes headcloth and a broad beaded collar. Behind it run bands of pink, grey and ochre, with a bundled papyrus column at the shoulder. "Central Bank of Egypt / FIFTY PIASTRES" in English at the top left, a boxed 50 opposite, and a cartouche set into a sweeping stylised flourish at the right. In circulation: One of the small-value notes the Central Bank kept in constant reprint from the mid-1980s onwards, handled until it fell apart — as this one nearly has. A 50-piastre coin arrived in the 2000s and gradually took the work over, and the little notes were left to wear out of circulation rather than be recalled. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Egypt — البنك المركزي المصري | Currency: Pound (E£) | Denomination: Fifty Pounds | Collected: on the Egypt journeys, 1992–1993 | Series: 50 piastres, Al-Azhar Mosque type | Signature: Governor of the Central Bank (المحافظ) | Security: Serial number in Arabic-Indic numerals, printed twice, with fractional prefix ### Euro — 4 notes (Euro) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/euro/ #### €10 — Ten Euros URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/euro-10/ The artwork, front: A Romanesque round-arched portal, drawn in warm terracotta line-work, occupies the right half — the doorway motif standing for the first of the architectural ages that run through the series, with a gold star glowing in the opening. To the left, twelve white stars of the European flag and, across the top, the issuing bank's initials in five alphabets: BCE ECB EZB EKT EKP, dated 2001, with the President's signature beneath. Denomination in figures at the corners and spelled EURO / ΕΥΡΩ below. The artwork, back: The complementary half of the design: a Romanesque bridge spanning open water, again in red and terracotta, the arches echoing the portal on the face. Behind it a map of Europe, the continent shown without borders, and above the whole a scatter of the twelve stars. The value appears large at both sides, with EURO and ΕΥΡΩ across the top. No real bridge — the structures are deliberately invented so no member state is favoured. In circulation: Part of the first euro series, put into circulation on 1 January 2002 as the single currency replaced twelve national currencies in cash. It was superseded by the second, "Europa" series ten, issued 23 September 2014, after which this design was gradually withdrawn from tills — though it remains legal tender indefinitely. Details: Currency: Euro (€) | Denomination: Ten Euros | Issuer: European Central Bank — printed BCE ECB EZB EKT EKP | Series: First series, "Ages and Styles of Europe"; dated 2001 | Signature: Willem F. Duisenberg, President of the ECB | Security: Holographic foil stripe at the right of the face; iridescent band on the back | Dimensions: 127 × 67 mm #### €20 — Twenty Euros URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/euro-20/ The artwork, front: A Gothic window — the arched, traceried lights of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries — standing for the third of the seven architectural ages that carry the series. No real building: the architecture is deliberately invented so no member state can claim it. Above, the EU flag, the issuer's name in five alphabets, the 2001 copyright and the President's signature; a holographic stripe runs down the right edge. Denomination as EURO and ΕΥΡΩ. The artwork, back: A Gothic bridge in the same imagined idiom, spanning open water — the bridge motif runs through every denomination as a plain metaphor for links between Europe's peoples. Behind it, the outline map of Europe in blue, with the overseas territories set out separately, and the large numeral 20 repeated with EURO and ΕΥΡΩ. The twelve stars are scattered across the field. In circulation: Issued on 1 January 2002 with the first euro cash changeover, and printed for well over a decade. Superseded by the Europa series 20, released 25 November 2015, which added the portrait watermark and the green emerald numeral. First-series notes are no longer issued but remain legal tender without limit. Details: Currency: Euro (€) | Denomination: Twenty Euros | Issuer: European Central Bank — printed as BCE ECB EZB EKT EKP | Series: First series, dated 2001 | Signature: President of the European Central Bank | Security: Holographic stripe at the right edge of the front | Dimensions: 133 × 72 mm #### €50 — Fifty Euros URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/euro-50/ The artwork, front: Renaissance architecture, the theme of the 50: an arched window with a pedimented aloft, columns and a balustrade, rendered in orange and brown. Like every euro building, it is an invented composite rather than a real place, so no member state can claim it. Left of centre, the twelve stars in a flag panel, the ECB's initials in five language versions — BCE ECB EZB EKT EKP — and the President's signature. The artwork, back: The reverse keeps to the same Renaissance grammar: a bridge in several arches spanning open water, the counterpart to the front's window, standing for the links between Europe's peoples and with the wider world. Behind it a map of the continent in outline, the twelve stars again, large orange 50s, and the word for the currency in both Latin and Greek script, EURO and ΕΥΡΩ. In circulation: The first euro series went into pockets on 1 January 2002, the largest cash changeover ever attempted. A redesigned 50, part of the Europa series with its portrait watermark, appeared on 4 April 2017, after which this design was no longer issued — though first-series notes keep their full legal tender value indefinitely. Details: Currency: Euro (€) | Denomination: Fifty Euros | Issuer: European Central Bank — BCE ECB EZB EKT EKP | Series: First series (1st series euro), Renaissance architecture | Signature: President of the European Central Bank | Security: Holographic patch, colour-shifting number on the reverse, security thread | Dimensions: 140 × 77 mm #### €200 — Two Hundred Euros URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/euro-200/ The artwork, front: A window and doorway in the Art Nouveau idiom — slender iron mullions, glazed fanlights and a wrought-metal grille — set against a lightly drawn glasshouse vault in yellow and ochre. The twelve stars of the Union scatter across it, with the flag at upper left, the five abbreviations BCE ECB EZB EKT EKP, the copyright year 2001, and the President's facsimile signature. Denomination in Latin and Greek: EURO / ΕΥΡΩ. The artwork, back: A bridge of riveted steel and stone piers, again in the Art Nouveau manner, spanning open water — an invented structure, as all the euro architecture is, so that no member state could claim it. Behind it the map of Europe, including the overseas territories in inset boxes, ringed by the twelve stars. Large numerals at right, EURO and ΕΥΡΩ repeated. In circulation: The first euro series entered circulation on 1 January 2002 and this design served until the Europa series 200 arrived on 28 May 2019, with its bolder green numeral and portrait window. First-series 200s are no longer issued but remain legal tender and are exchangeable indefinitely at national central banks. Details: Currency: Euro (€) | Denomination: Two Hundred Euros | Issuer: European Central Bank — printed as BCE ECB EZB EKT EKP | Series: First series ('Ages and Styles of Europe'), Art Nouveau, © 2001 | Signature: Facsimile of the President of the European Central Bank | Watermark: The Art Nouveau architecture and the value 200 | Security: Hologram patch, colour-changing numeral on the reverse, embedded security thread | Dimensions: 153 × 82 mm ### France — 2 notes (Franc) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/france/ #### ₣20 — Twenty Francs URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/france-20/ The artwork, front: Claude Debussy in three-quarter profile, hair heavy over the brow, set against a broken coastline of rock and pale sea — a nod to the composer of La Mer rather than a literal place. The engraver's small caption "CLAUDE DEBUSSY" sits along the lower edge. Left, a plain unprinted panel; above it the orange "Banque de France" cartouche, below it "VINGT FRANCS" and the serial. Signatures of the Contrôleur Général, Caissier Général and Secrétaire Général crowd the upper centre. The artwork, back: Debussy again, larger and closer, gazing out from a terraced garden of cypresses and stone balustrades — the grounds of the Villa Medici in Rome, where he spent his Prix de Rome years. The whole side is worked in plum, ochre and dull gold, the foliage dissolving into the sky. "Banque de France" in capitals at lower left, a large 20 at upper right, and a boxed counterfeiting warning citing articles 442-1 and 442-2 of the penal code. In circulation: The Debussy 20 francs appeared in 1980 and ran, with annual dates, to 1997 — the year on this example, and the last of the series. It was the smallest French note of its day and was never replaced by a new franc design; the euro took over in 2002, and francs could be exchanged at the Banque de France until 2012. Details: Currency: Franc (₣) | Denomination: Twenty Francs | Collected: on the France journeys, 1991–2019 | Issuer: Banque de France | Series: 20 francs Debussy, dated 1997 | Signature: Le Contrôleur Général, Le Caissier Général and Le Secrétaire Général | Watermark: Head of Claude Debussy in the left-hand panel | Security: Reverse legal notice citing articles 442-1 and 442-2 of the penal code, with penalties to thirty years and three million francs | Dimensions: 140 × 75 mm #### ₣50 — Fifty Francs URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/france-50/ The artwork, front: Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, named and dated 1900–1944 in fine script beside him, set against a world map traced with the airmail routes he flew. A Latécoère biplane crosses the upper margin; below, his own drawing of the Little Prince stands on his small planet among stars and a rose, with the boa that swallowed an elephant in green at the left. "Banque de France" and a large 50 fill the right. The artwork, back: A big open-cockpit biplane of the Aéropostale years, loaded and photographed head-on, banking over orange desert dunes under a mottled painterly sky. A compass rose sits top right, its rays ruled across the field, with the year 1994 beside it. The Little Prince reappears at lower right beneath a yellow star, next to the three signatures and the counterfeiting warning. In circulation: The Saint-Exupéry 50 francs entered circulation in 1993 as the smallest note of the Banque de France's final franc series, replacing the Quentin de La Tour design. It served until the euro changeover, losing legal tender status in February 2002, when the €5 note took its place. Details: Currency: Franc (₣) | Denomination: Fifty Francs | Collected: on the France journeys, 1991–2019 | Issuer: Banque de France | Series: Saint-Exupéry type, dated 1994; serial H 022937971 | Signature: Le Secrétaire Général, Le Contrôleur Général and Le Caissier Général | Watermark: Portrait of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry | Dimensions: 123 × 80 mm ### Greece — 2 notes (Drachma) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/greece/ #### ₯100 — One Hundred Drachmas URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/greece-100/ The artwork, front: The helmeted head of Athena in profile, taken from the bronze Athena found at Piraeus and captioned as such in tiny letters below. Behind her, an oval rosette panel in blue, ochre and rust carries the value written out as ΔΡΑΧΜΑΙ ΕΚΑΤΟΝ, with the Athens date line and two signatures beneath. At lower right, a long neoclassical building with a colonnade and pedimented centre. The artwork, back: Adamantios Korais, the scholar of the Greek Enlightenment whose work shaped the modern written language, in high collar and dark coat, engraved in deep red. Behind him, dense guilloche fields and olive and laurel foliage carry faint words in Greek. At the right stands the Venetian-baroque church front of Moni Arkadiou in Crete, named below the vignette. In circulation: Dated 8 December 1978 in Athens and in everyday use through the 1980s. The arrival of a 100-drachma coin in 1990 pushed the note out of ordinary circulation, and higher denominations carried the load thereafter. The drachma itself was retired for the euro at the beginning of 2002. Details: Issuer: ΤΡΑΠΕΖΑ ΤΗΣ ΕΛΛΑΔΟΣ — Bank of Greece | Currency: Drachma (₯) | Denomination: One Hundred Drachmas | Collected: on the Greece journeys, 1998–2012 | Series: Dated ΕΝ ΑΘΗΝΑΙΣ, 8 Δεκεμβρίου 1978; serial 42Ψ 430383, two digits and a Greek letter, printed twice on the face | Printer: Bank of Greece printing works, credited at the foot of the back as ΙΔΡΥΜΑ ΤΡΑΠΕΖΗΣ ΤΗΣ ΕΛΛΑΔΟΣ | Signature: Two: ο Διευθυντής (the Director) and ο Διοικητής (the Governor) #### ₯200 — Two Hundred Drachmas URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/greece-200/ The artwork, front: Rigas Velestinlis-Feraios, the Vlach-Greek poet and revolutionary of the 1790s, engraved in warm orange with his name printed beneath and the year 1821 below that. His motto runs as microtext in the guilloche: whoever thinks freely thinks well. To the right, ΔΡΑΧΜΕΣ ΔΙΑΚΟΣΙΕΣ, payable on demand, Athens 2 September 1996, and a small upright panel previewing the back vignette. Governor's and Director's signatures at upper left. The artwork, back: Nikolaos Gyzis's painting The Secret School — named in script as το Κρυφό Σχολείο — a bearded priest teaching children from a book by lamplight in a vaulted room, an armed klepht leaning on his staff at the right keeping watch. Greek and Ottoman-influenced ornament frames the scene in green and rose, with ΔΡΑΧΜΕΣ ΔΙΑΚΟΣΙΕΣ large at lower left. In circulation: Issued from 1996 as the smallest note of the final drachma family, alongside the 1,000, 5,000 and 10,000. It circulated until the euro replaced drachma cash on 1 January 2002, its role largely taken by the one-euro coin; the Bank of Greece redeemed such notes for a further ten years. Details: Issuer: ΤΡΑΠΕΖΑ ΤΗΣ ΕΛΛΑΔΟΣ — Bank of Greece | Currency: Drachma (₯) | Denomination: Two Hundred Drachmas | Collected: on the Greece journeys, 1998–2012 | Series: Dated Athens, 2 September 1996; three-digit serial prefix (010) with six digits, printed twice on the face | Signature: Ο ΔΙΟΙΚΗΤΗΣ (Governor) and Ο ΔΙΕΥΘΥΝΤΗΣ (Director) | Security: Microprinted text in the ornament: Rigas's motto on the freedom of thought, and repeated ΤΡΑΠΕΖΑ ΤΗΣ ΕΛΛΑΔΟΣ / ΔΡΑΧΜΕΣ 200 in vertical and horizontal lines | Printer: Bank of Greece printing works, credited at lower left of the back ### Guatemala — 3 notes (Quetzal) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/guatemala/ #### Q5 — Five Quetzales URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/guatemala-5/ The artwork, front: General Justo Rufino Barrios in three-quarter view, bald and heavily bearded, engraved against a deep wine-red ground of stepped Maya fretwork; the line beneath names him President of the Republic 1873–1885, reformer of the country and promoter of Central American union. A resplendent quetzal, the national bird, flies left across the pale field above the serial number. Title panel reads Banco de Guatemala, Guatemala Centro America, with CINCO QUETZALES in red. The artwork, back: A primary school classroom: a teacher leaning over an open book with four small children, a blackboard behind carrying AEIOU, ABCDE and the numerals one to ten, the Guatemalan flag furled in the corner. The caption records that Barrios established primary education as free, secular and compulsory. Flanking panels carry seated Maya glyph figures, a stone mask and large outlined 5s over green and buff. In circulation: The Barrios five-quetzal design with the schoolroom reverse ran through the 1990s and 2000s, reprinted under successive authorisation dates, this one 29 July 1998. A polymer five quetzales appeared in 2011, and later paper printings carried updated dates and added security work, so notes of this vintage steadily left circulation. Details: Issuer: Banco de Guatemala — "Guatemala Centro America" | Currency: Quetzal (Q) | Denomination: Five Quetzales | Collected: on the Guatemala journey, 2003 | Series: Autorización 29 de julio de 1998; serial C02831355B, letter prefix and suffix | Signature: Three: Presidente, Gerente, and Contralor General de Cuentas #### Q10 — Ten Quetzales URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/guatemala-10/ The artwork, front: A red-plate portrait of General Miguel García Granados fills the right third, bespectacled and severe, set against banded Maya fretwork. The caption below credits him as President of the Republic 1871–1873, who pushed through the principal legal codes that stood for nearly a century. Left of centre, a large ornamented 10 and DIEZ QUETZALES; further left, a resplendent quetzal in green and crimson and a carved standing figure from a Maya stela. Three signatures: Presidente, Gerente, Contralor General de Cuentas. The artwork, back: A multicoloured chamber scene, captioned Sesión de la Asamblea Nacional Legislativa de 1872: frock-coated deputies at their benches and desks, a speaker standing mid-address, the sky-blue and white national colours draped behind the rostrum beneath the arms of Guatemala. The panel is framed in deep carmine Maya glyph borders, with a stela figure at the left edge and a seated Maya lord in pale relief at the right, beside the numerals 10. In circulation: The red García Granados 10 quetzales, carrying the authorisation date of 29 July 1998, belongs to the long-running modern family of Banco de Guatemala notes. The design has been reissued repeatedly with later authorisation dates and progressively upgraded security, so notes of this appearance remain in daily use rather than having been replaced outright. Details: Issuer: Banco de Guatemala — "Guatemala, Centro América" | Currency: Quetzal (Q) | Denomination: Ten Quetzales | Collected: on the Guatemala journey, 2003 | Series: Authorisation date 29 Julio 1998; serial D62463870A, letter prefix and letter suffix | Signature: Three: Presidente, Gerente, and Contralor General de Cuentas #### Q20 — Twenty Quetzales URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/guatemala-20/ The artwork, front: Doctor Mariano Gálvez fills the right half, set against a stepped Maya-motif frame, with the legend beneath naming him prócer de la Independencia and head of state of Guatemala within the Central American Federation. A resplendent quetzal streams across the upper left above a red-and-gold Maya stela figure, and the authorisation date, 17 de junio de 1999, runs vertically up the left edge. Serial E62876653A appears twice. The artwork, back: A single engraved scene, captioned Firma del Acta de la Independencia de Centroamérica: the assembled delegates in frock coats around a cloth-covered table, one seated in the foreground with the document, a barred window behind. Carved Maya reliefs flank it, grey and pink at the left, red at the right, with stepped fret borders top and bottom and VEINTE QUETZALES below. In circulation: Authorised 17 June 1999 and circulating through the early 2000s alongside earlier and later dates of the same design. Redesigned 20 quetzal notes with strengthened security followed from the middle of that decade, keeping both Gálvez and the independence scene, so the imagery has never really left Guatemalan pockets. Details: Issuer: Banco de Guatemala — Guatemala, Centro América | Currency: Quetzal (Q) | Denomination: Twenty Quetzales | Collected: on the Guatemala journey, 2003 | Series: Autorización 17 de junio de 1999 | Printer: Thomas de la Rue and Company Limited | Signature: Presidente, Gerente and Contralor General de Cuentas ### Hong Kong — 11 notes (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong/ #### HK$10 — Ten Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-10-1986/ The artwork, front: Predominantly green, with the Royal Arms at left — lion and unicorn flanking the shield over the motto DIEU ET MON DROIT, and beneath it a small harbour scene of junks and a steamer. The issuer's name stands in English and Chinese across the head, the promise to pay the bearer "on demand at its Office here" in the centre, dated HONGKONG 1st JANUARY 1989 over a single General Manager's signature. The hexagonal house mark sits lower left; 拾圓 at right beside the watermark panel. The artwork, back: The two bronze lions from the bank's Queen's Road headquarters — Stephen roaring on the left, Stitt at rest on the right — set either side of the then-new Norman Foster tower, drawn as a lattice of trusses and suspended floors rising the full height of the note. At upper right, a Chinese junk under sail beside a modern cargo vessel. Denomination in numerals and 拾圓 on ribbon panels above., with pink underprint at the edges. In circulation: This design, dated annually from the mid-1980s, was the bank's last ten-dollar note; issues ran to 1 January 1992, after which the ten-dollar denomination passed out of bank hands, the $10 coin taking its place from 1994. A government-issued ten-dollar note appeared only a decade later. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Ten Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation | Series: 1986 issue; this note dated 1st January 1989 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited (imprinted at foot of face) | Signature: One signature, General Manager | Security: Watermark panel at right of face and left of back; serial BF694581 in two-letter, six-digit form, repeated twice #### HK$10 — Ten Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-10-1991/ The artwork, front: Deep green, with the bank's name in English across the top and 香港上海滙豐銀行 above it. At the left, a crowned shield with lion and unicorn supporters, the Garter ribbon and "Dieu et mon droit", resting on a compartment of harbour, junks and shore buildings. Centre: the promise to pay, TEN DOLLARS over a rosette of pale guilloche, dated HONGKONG 1st JANUARY 1991, signed by the General Manager. The HSBC hexagon sits bottom left; a plain oval panel at the right holds the watermark; 拾圓 beside it. Serial MA605661 twice. The artwork, back: The bank's own architecture and menagerie. Centre, drawn in fine line, the Norman Foster headquarters at 1 Queen's Road Central, its trusses and mast structure rising the full height of the note. Flanking it, the two bronze lions of the banking hall steps — Stephen roaring on the left, Stitt calm on the right. Behind Stitt, a sailing junk and a cargo ship in the harbour. Ribbon panels above read 10 and 拾圓. In circulation: Issued from 1985 through the early 1990s, the last dated notes of the type falling in 1992. The ten-dollar note was then retired in favour of the government ten-dollar coin introduced in 1993, and no paper ten circulated again until the Government's own purple note appeared in 2002. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Ten Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation | Series: Dated 1st January 1991 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited, as printed at the foot of the face | Watermark: Lion's head, in the clear panel at the right of the face | Signature: Single signature, General Manager #### HK$10 — Ten Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-10-new/ The artwork, front: No portrait at all — this is a purely graphic note. Purple, rose and turquoise bands cross behind a fan of overlapping arcs and a stylised sail-like cluster of triangles at right. A hexagonal see-through window sits at the top centre. Bilingual titling reads "Government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region" and "Legal Tender in Hong Kong", with the Chinese 拾 in its own hexagon and the date 1st January 2005 in both scripts. Serial SQ932310 appears horizontally and vertically. The artwork, back: A lattice of interlocking blue and mauve diamonds fills the left half, drawn as ribbed bars that weave over and under one another. Sweeping across the centre are two looping ribbons in yellow, orange and red, the only warm colour on the note. The hexagonal register device reappears at the top, and the value is given as 港幣拾元 / "Ten Hong Kong Dollars", with 拾 and 10 in the lower corners. In circulation: The Government resumed issuing ten-dollar notes in 2002, filling the gap between the banks' larger denominations and the heavy $10 coin. Paper printings carry the dates 2002, 2003 and this 1st January 2005. A polymer $10 in the same colours and design language followed from 2007 and took over the role; the paper notes remain legal tender. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Ten Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: Government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region | Series: Government $10, paper issue, dated 1st January 2005 | Signature: Henry Tang, Financial Secretary; Joseph Yam, Monetary Authority | Security: Hexagonal see-through register completed by the design on both sides | Dimensions: 141 × 70 mm #### HK$10 — Ten Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-10-old2/ In circulation: Came home from the Hong Kong journey of 1993 — one of 11 Hong Kong notes in the collection. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Ten Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 #### HK$10 — Ten Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-10-sc/ The artwork, front: A carp bursting from stylised waves, whiskers trailing and scales cut in fine line-work — the fish of the Chinese legend that leaps the dragon gate and becomes a dragon, a stock emblem of perseverance and success. The bank's name stands in English over the Chinese 香港渣打銀行, with "Ten Dollars" and 拾圓 beneath the promise to pay, dated 1st January 1989 and signed by the Area Financial Controller and Area General Manager. Green and pale rose guilloche ground; serial DW878871 at both lower corners. The artwork, back: Chiefly green. At the left, the bank's own Hong Kong head office on Des Voeux Road Central, the stepped 1959 tower drawn from below. In the centre, the Royal Arms — lion and unicorn, HONI SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE on the garter, DIEU ET MON DROIT below — a reminder of the Royal Charter of 1853. 渣打銀行 in panels above, "Standard Chartered Bank" in a band beneath, 10 and 拾圓 at the corners. In circulation: One of the Standard Chartered notes of the 1985 family, each denomination carrying an auspicious Chinese creature; this $10 was issued with dates through the early 1990s. Note issue of the tenner then lapsed in favour of the $10 coin introduced in 1994, and the denomination only returned as a Government of Hong Kong note in 2002. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Ten Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: Standard Chartered Bank, Hong Kong — "Incorporated by Royal Charter 1853" | Series: 1985 mythical-creatures issue; carp design, dated 1st January 1989 | Signature: Area Financial Controller and Area General Manager | Security: Two-letter serial prefix, serial repeated at both lower corners; intaglio line-work on fish and buildings #### HK$20 — Twenty Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-20/ The artwork, front: Copper and slate-grey printing, with the bank's name in Chinese characters above the English "The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation". At left, a royal coat of arms with lion and unicorn supporters, the Garter motto and "Dieu et mon droit", ships below. The centre carries the promise to pay and TWENTY DOLLARS in shaded capitals, dated Hongkong 1st January 1991, signed by the General Manager. A plain oval watermark window sits at right, the value repeated in Chinese down the edge. The artwork, back: The two bronze lions from the pavement outside the bank's Hong Kong head office — Stephen roaring, Stitt calm — couched either side of Norman Foster's HSBC Main Building, drawn from below so the suspension trusses and stacked floors fill the panel. In the right-hand roundel, the harbour with the Tsim Sha Tsui clock tower and the Peak behind. Denominations in figures and Chinese characters across the top. In circulation: The design belongs to HSBC's series introduced in 1985, when the new headquarters building opened; this piece is dated 1 January 1991. It was replaced by the 1993 series, which dropped the royal arms in favour of a lion's head ahead of the 1997 handover, and these earlier notes were withdrawn thereafter. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Twenty Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation | Series: 1985–1992 issue, dated 1st January 1991 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited | Signature: General Manager | Security: Watermark panel at right; two-letter serial prefix, printed twice in black #### HK$20 — Twenty Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-20-1985/ The artwork, front: At the left, a finely engraved achievement of arms in deep green — crowned helm, lion and unicorn supporters, the garter motto HONI SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE about the shield and DIEU ET MON DROIT on the scroll below, resting on a maritime compartment. The centre panel carries the bank's promise to pay the bearer on demand at its Office here, TWENTY DOLLARS in shaded capitals, the place and date HONGKONG 1st JANUARY 1989, and the General Manager's signature. A plain oval reserve sits right, with 弍拾 beside it; serial BH955813 appears twice. The artwork, back: The bank's own headquarters at 1 Queen's Road Central, Norman Foster's steel-framed tower, drawn straight on and filling the centre arch. Flanking it are the two bronze lions that have sat outside the building since the 1930s, one roaring, one at rest. Behind the right-hand lion, the harbour skyline with a clock tower on the waterfront. The title The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation runs along the foot between four 20s. In circulation: The design belongs to the HSBC series begun in 1985, printed with dates running through to the early 1990s. It was superseded by the bank's 1993 series, which dropped the royal arms in favour of the lion's head ahead of the 1997 handover; the older notes were steadily withdrawn thereafter. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Twenty Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation | Series: 1985 series; this note dated 1st January 1989 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited | Watermark: Lion's head, in the plain oval reserve | Signature: General Manager #### HK$20 — Twenty Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-20-1991/ The artwork, front: A snarling lion's head in three-quarter profile fills the left half — one of the bronze lions that guard the bank's Hong Kong headquarters, engraved large and rendered in grey. Behind the wording sits a pale harbour skyline. The issuer's name runs in English along the top and in Chinese beneath, with TWENTY HONGKONG DOLLARS and 港幣貳拾元 in deep red, a single Executive Director's signature, and the date 1st January 1996 in both scripts. The artwork, back: The two reclining bronze lions, Stephen and Stitt, sit either side of the bank's Norman Foster headquarters at 1 Queen's Road Central, the tower drawn in red-brown with its suspension trusses clearly picked out. To the right, a Star Ferry stands at its pier under a smoking funnel. Chinese issuer name above, English below, with 20 and 貳拾 in the four corners. In circulation: Part of the lion's-head design HSBC introduced in 1993, the first of its notes to carry no royal imagery. This twenty circulated through the handover and into the early 2000s, until HSBC's brightly coloured 2003 series — with its new twenty in a paler palette — took over and the older notes were steadily withdrawn. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Twenty Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation Limited | Series: 1993 design; dated 1st January 1996 | Signature: One signature, titled Executive Director / 執行董事 | Security: Serial number twice in red, prefix GS, printed horizontally and vertically #### HK$20 — Twenty Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-20-new/ In circulation: Came home from the Hong Kong journey of 1993 — one of 11 Hong Kong notes in the collection. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Twenty Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 #### HK$50 — Fifty Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-50/ The artwork, front: Purple and mauve, with the bank's name in Chinese above the English "The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation". At left, a royal coat of arms — crowned shield with lion and unicorn supporters, the Garter motto and DIEU ET MON DROIT — resting on a harbour vignette of junks and a square-rigged ship. Centre: the promise to pay the bearer on demand at its Office here, FIFTY DOLLARS, dated HONGKONG 1st JANUARY 1992, signed by the General Manager. At right a plain watermark oval and the denomination in Chinese characters, 伍拾, read downwards. The artwork, back: The bank's own headquarters at 1 Queen's Road Central — Norman Foster's steel-and-glass tower, completed in 1985, drawn straight on with its exposed masts and suspension trusses. Flanking it, the two bronze lions Stephen and Stitt, cast in 1935 and still sitting outside the doors. Upper right, a dragon boat race in mid-stroke; lower corners carry rosettes in soft red and olive. In circulation: The 1985–92 design, HSBC's first to feature its new Foster headquarters, issued with dates from 1 January 1985 through 1992. From 1993 it was replaced by the redesigned series built around lion heads and the modern hexagon logo, and these purple fifties were steadily withdrawn as they came back through the tills. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: Fifty Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation | Series: 1985–92 issue, dated 1st January 1992 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited | Watermark: Lion's head | Signature: General Manager (single signature) #### HK$100 — One Hundred Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hongkong-100/ The artwork, front: Printed in reds and rose, with the bank's name across the top in Chinese characters and in English: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation. At left, a crowned coat of arms with lion and unicorn supporters and the motto DIEU ET MON DROIT, a small harbour vignette of junks beneath it. The promise to pay and ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS sit over a guilloche rosette; the date reads HONGKONG 1st JANUARY 1985. Serial BW643972 twice, single General Manager signature, and a plain octagonal watermark panel at right. The artwork, back: The bank's own headquarters at 1 Queen's Road Central — Norman Foster's steel-and-glass tower, completed the same year this note was dated — drawn in elevation and set in a circular frame. Flanking it, the pair of bronze lions that have crouched outside the bank's door since 1935. At right, a multi-tiered Chinese pagoda in a wooded setting; a matching empty roundel at left for the watermark. Denominations in Arabic numerals and Chinese characters in the corners. In circulation: Issued from 1985, the first HSBC series to carry the new Foster headquarters, and dated each January through the late 1980s and early 1990s. It gave way in 1993 to the redesigned series built around the bank's lion's-head device and hexagonal logo, which dropped the colonial armorial entirely. Details: Currency: Dollar (HK$) | Denomination: One Hundred Dollars | Collected: on the Hong Kong journey, 1993 | Issuer: The Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation | Series: Dated 1st January 1985 | Signature: Single signature, General Manager | Watermark: Lion's head, in the octagonal panel at right ### Hungary — 2 notes (Forint) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hungary/ #### Ft50 — Fifty Forints URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hungary-50/ The artwork, front: Ferenc Rákóczi II, the Transylvanian prince who led the 1703–11 rising against the Habsburgs, in fur kalpag and jewelled dolman — engraved after Ádám Mányoki's portrait, credited at the lower right as "Mányoky Á. pinx". Left, a large 50 in a scalloped rosette; centre, the Hungarian arms beneath a star in a wreath, the Budapest date line, MAGYAR NEMZETI BANK, three signatures and a red serial. The artwork, back: A cavalry melee in a shallow river valley: kuruc horsemen with sabres raised driving into imperial troopers, a fallen horse struggling in the foreground and a body sprawled at the right — the fighting of Rákóczi's war made into a broad, painterly engraving. ÖTVEN FORINT runs on ribbons above and below, with the numeral 50 in a rosette at each end. In circulation: The Rákóczi 50 forint first appeared in 1965 and was reprinted with fresh Budapest dates through the 1980s, this one 4 November 1986, with a final 1989 date. It was retired in the early 1990s as the 50 forint coin took over the value and the post-communist arms replaced the star-topped shield. Details: Currency: Forint (Ft) | Denomination: Fifty Forints | Collected: on the Hungary journey, 1991 | Issuer: Magyar Nemzeti Bank, Budapest | Series: Dated 1986. évi november hó 4-én; serial D 302 063762 | Printer: Pénzjegynyomda, Budapest | Signature: Three facsimile signatures of Magyar Nemzeti Bank officials | Security: Printed warning along the foot: A BANKJEGYHAMISÍTÁST A TÖRVÉNY BÜNTETI #### Ft100 — One Hundred Forints URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/hungary-100/ The artwork, front: Lajos Kossuth in three-quarter view, bearded and in a braided Hungarian coat, framed in an engraved oval to the right; his name reads KOSSUTH LAJOS beneath. Left, a large 100 over a FORINT scroll in a matching rosette. Centre, the wreathed shield of the People's Republic, the dateline BUDAPEST, 1989. ÉVI JANUÁR HÓ 10-ÉN and MAGYAR NEMZETI BANK above three signatures, with SZÁZ FORINT banded across the top. The artwork, back: A team of horses bolting across the open puszta, hauling a light cart, the driver's whip cracked overhead and a second figure clinging on behind — after a painting by Károly Lotz, credited LOTZ K. PINX. at the lower left with the engraver NAGY Z. SC. opposite. The scene sits in a deep oval of guilloche; SZÁZ FORINT in ornamental panels flanks it, with 100 in each of the four ribboned corners. In circulation: The Kossuth 100 forint was a fixture of Hungarian pockets for decades, reissued with fresh datelines through the 1980s and into the early 1990s. This 1989 printing belongs to the final years of it: the denomination passed to a coin, and the post-communist series of the later 1990s replaced the old notes altogether. Details: Currency: Forint (Ft) | Denomination: One Hundred Forints | Collected: on the Hungary journey, 1991 | Issuer: Magyar Nemzeti Bank | Series: Dated Budapest, 10 January 1989 | Signature: Three manuscript signatures below the centre | Security: Printed warning A BANKJEGYHAMISÍTÁST A TÖRVÉNY BÜNTETI; serial in red, prefix B 127 ### India — 23 notes (Rupee) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india/ #### ₹1 — One Rupee URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-1/ The artwork, front: "GOVERNMENT OF INDIA" and भारत on a ribbon across the top, with a bold 1 in each upper corner. At right, the Lion Capital of Ashoka from Sarnath in a beaded roundel lettered भारत and INDIA. Centre, a Devanagari and a Western 1 over a sunburst, and the value spelled out in Hindi and English. The oval panel at left is left clear for the watermark; below, the serial 67D 016327 and the signature of the Secretary, Ministry of Finance. The artwork, back: A one-rupee coin, shown large at left with its numeral 1 flanked by ears of wheat, RUPEE beneath and the date 1978 — the year that dates the note. Centre, a tall panel giving "one rupee" in the other official languages, script stacked on script. Small cartouches at the foot read एक रुपया and ONE RUPEE, with GOVERNMENT OF INDIA again across the top. In circulation: The small-format government one-rupee note ran for decades with only the coin date and signature changing; this one carries Manmohan Singh's signature as Finance Secretary and the 1978 coin. Printing of the denomination was halted in 1994, the one-rupee coin having long since taken over everyday use. Details: Issuer: Government of India (not the Reserve Bank) | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: One Rupee | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Small-format one rupee, coin reverse dated 1978 | Signature: Manmohan Singh, Secretary, Ministry of Finance | Security: Serial in prefix-and-number style, 67D 016327; clear watermark panel at left of the face #### ₹1 — One Rupee URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-1-old/ The artwork, front: The Lion Capital of Ashoka from Sarnath fills a medallion at the right, ringed by "भारत" and "INDIA" — the state emblem stood in for a portrait on Indian notes before Gandhi. At the centre a large figure 1 rises against engraved rays above the value in Devanagari, एक रुपया, and in English below. Left of it, a blank oval panel for the watermark; the serial, 28Q 922023, and the Finance Secretary's signature run along the foot. The artwork, back: At the left, an engraving of the one-rupee coin: the numeral 1 flanked by ears of wheat, the word RUPEE beneath and the date 1977 below that, all within a beaded rim and scrollwork. The central panel gives the denomination in the official languages, one line each, in their own scripts. Flanking cartouches read एक रुपया and ONE RUPEE, with a second watermark window at the right. In circulation: A Government of India note rather than a Reserve Bank issue, this coin-motif one rupee ran from the late 1970s, the coin date on the back marking the design year. Printing of one-rupee notes was suspended in the mid-1990s as the coin took over entirely, leaving the two rupee and above to the Reserve Bank. Details: Issuer: Government of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: One Rupee | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: One Rupee, coin reverse dated 1977 | Signature: Manmohan Singh, Secretary, Ministry of Finance | Security: Blank watermark panels on both sides; single letter-and-number serial prefix #### ₹1 — One Rupee URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-1-oldv2/ The artwork, front: Government of India above, in Devanagari and English, with the denomination spelled out in Hindi — एक रुपया — set in a dense floral medallion at the centre. At the right, a large rendering of the hexagonal one-rupee coin bearing the Lion Capital of Ashoka and the motto सत्यमेव जयते, the state emblem standing in for any portrait. Signed by Bimal Jalan as Finance Secretary. Serial 93D 889945, with an inset letter B. The artwork, back: The reverse is the one that collectors remember: an offshore drilling platform at sea, derricks and flare stacks crowded over the water — the Bombay High oil field, the pride of India's energy programme in the period. Top left, the reverse of the one-rupee coin dated 1990 within sheaves of wheat, and beside it the value panel in the country's other official languages. In circulation: A Government of India note rather than a Reserve Bank issue, this coin-and-oil-rig design ran through the late 1980s and early 1990s; the signature and the 1990 coin date place this piece firmly in that window. Printing of the one-rupee note was given up in the mid-1990s, the coin taking over entirely until notes briefly returned in 2015. Details: Issuer: Government of India (not the Reserve Bank) | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: One Rupee | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: One rupee, coin obverse and offshore oil platform reverse; coin dated 1990 | Signature: Bimal Jalan, Finance Secretary | Dimensions: Approximately 97 × 63 mm #### ₹2 — Two Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-2-blue/ In circulation: Came home from the India journeys of 1992–2018 — one of 23 India notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Two Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 #### ₹2 — Two Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-2-red/ In circulation: Came home from the India journeys of 1992–2018 — one of 23 India notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Two Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 #### ₹2 — Two Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-2-satellite/ The artwork, front: No portrait at all: this is a note of the older pattern, with the Lion Capital of Ashoka framed at the right and the Reserve Bank's seal, palm and tiger, in the upper corner. The centre carries a big ornamental 2 set in a sunburst of engine-turned lines, with the issuer's name in Hindi and English above, the guarantee of the Central Government, the promise clause, and the language panel to the left. "दो रुपये" runs along the foot beside the serial, prefix 44Q. The artwork, back: The whole reason to keep this one: the Aryabhata satellite, India's first, a faceted polyhedron with solar panels and stubby aerials, drifting over a stippled blue Earth against a starred sky. Heavy foliate borders in maroon close both ends, with a 2 in a cartouche at the left and another at the right, and TWO RUPEES spelled out along the bottom panel. In circulation: Issued from 1976, the design marking the launch of Aryabhata the previous year, and current through the 1980s and into the 1990s alongside later two-rupee note designs. The denomination was then given over entirely to the two-rupee coin, and the notes were withdrawn from circulation. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — भारतीय रिज़र्व बैंक — guaranteed by the Central Government | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Two Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Aryabhata satellite reverse, introduced 1976 | Signature: Governor, Reserve Bank of India | Watermark: Lion Capital of Ashoka, in the blank oval panel at the left of the face | Dimensions: Approximately 107 × 63 mm #### ₹2 — Two Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-2-tiger/ The artwork, front: Sober brick-red printing on pale paper. The Lion Capital of Ashoka fills a panel at the right, with सत्यमेव जयते beneath it; the Reserve Bank's name stands in Hindi above English across the top, followed by "Guaranteed by the Central Government" and the promise to pay the bearer two rupees, set out in Hindi and English on either side of a large figure 2. The Governor signs below, and the oval at the left is left blank for the watermark. "दो रूपये" runs along the foot beside the serial, 62V 050320. The artwork, back: A Bengal tiger, mouth open, standing full length in tall grass with low hills and trees behind — the vignette that gives the note its collectors' name. At the left, a framed panel gives the denomination in the official languages, script after script down the page. The Reserve Bank seal, with its palm tree and tiger, sits at the centre of the lower border between "दो रूपये" and "TWO RUPEES"; the watermark oval is at the right. In circulation: The tiger reverse carried the two-rupee note through the 1970s, 1980s and into the 1990s, printed in great quantity under a succession of Governors. Small notes were then given up in favour of coin: the one- and two-rupee notes ceased to be issued in the mid-1990s, and the Mahatma Gandhi series of 1996 began at ten rupees. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — guaranteed by the Central Government | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Two Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Two rupees, Lion Capital front with tiger reverse | Watermark: Lion Capital of Ashoka, in the blank oval at the left of the front | Signature: Governor, Reserve Bank of India, titled in both Hindi and English #### ₹5 — Five Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-5/ The artwork, front: The Lion Capital of Ashoka from Sarnath, framed in a scrolled cartouche with सत्यमेव जयते beneath — the state emblem that fronted Indian notes before Gandhi took over. Above, the issuer in Devanagari and English with the central government guarantee; left, a rosette holding the numeral 5 and the promise to pay the bearer five rupees in both scripts. The Reserve Bank seal with its palm and tiger sits lower left, the language panel right, and the serial 82G 274959 runs across the foot. The artwork, back: A farmer on a wheeled tractor drawing a mounted plough through freshly turned earth, low hills behind and an orange sun on the horizon — the Green Revolution rendered as a working morning in the fields. A tall ornamental panel on the left carries the numeral 5 in a flower medallion; FIVE RUPEES stands in outlined capitals along the base above a border of stylised buds. In circulation: The tractor reverse was introduced in the mid-1970s and stayed in print, with successive governors' signatures, into the 1990s. It was gradually displaced as five-rupee coins took over daily change, and the denomination returned to paper only with the Mahatma Gandhi series note of the early 2000s. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — भारतीय रिज़र्व बैंक; guaranteed by the Central Government | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Five Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Lion Capital front with tractor reverse, five rupees | Watermark: Ashoka Pillar lion capital, in the plain oval panel at left | Signature: Single signature of the Governor, Reserve Bank of India, at lower centre | Dimensions: 117 × 63 mm #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-ashoka-peacock/ The artwork, front: "Reserve Bank of India — Guaranteed by the Central Government" across the top, with the Hindi equivalent below and the promise to pay ten rupees set in both scripts either side of a large numeral 10. At the right, the Lion Capital of Ashoka from Sarnath, India's state emblem, standing on its abacus of wheel and bull. At the left, a plain oval watermark window and a column of the denomination in the official languages, with the Bank's palm-and-tiger seal beneath. The artwork, back: The design that gives the series its name: two peacocks perched in a flowering tree, one with its tail fanned out in blue-dotted eyes, set within a roundel. Around them a decorative frieze of grazing deer, lotus blossoms and a mahout astride an elephant, in the manner of Indian temple relief. "Ten Rupees" in a scrolled cartouche below, the Hindi legend above, and a second watermark oval at the right. In circulation: The peacock reverse was introduced on the ten-rupee note in the early 1970s and stayed in issue, with successive Governors' signatures, into the 1990s. This example carries R.N. Malhotra's signature, placing it in the second half of the 1980s. The Mahatma Gandhi series of 1996 displaced it, and the older notes were steadily withdrawn thereafter. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — "Guaranteed by the Central Government" | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Ashoka Pillar / peacock reverse, ten rupees | Signature: R.N. Malhotra, Governor (signed in English and Devanagari) | Watermark: Blank oval panels front and back, left and right of the design | Security: Serial number in red, twice on the face, letter-suffix prefix 83H #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-boat-73l/ The artwork, front: Sober brown and pale rose. The Lion Capital of Ashoka stands at right between engraved pillars, the wheel and horse of the abacus clear beneath the lions and the motto सत्यमेव जयते below. Centre, a large 10 over lathework, flanked by the promise to pay in Hindi and English under RESERVE BANK OF INDIA and the central government guarantee. Serial 73L 069311 twice; the left oval is left blank for the watermark. The artwork, back: An oval vignette of a lateen-rigged dhow running before the wind, sails full, low hills on the horizon and a heavy swell worked up in fine line engraving — the scene that gave the note its collectors' name. Below it the Reserve Bank seal with its palm tree and tiger. At left the denomination in the fifteen official language panel; TEN RUPEES and दस रुपये along the foot. In circulation: The dhow reverse belongs to the ten-rupee design that served India from 1970 through to the early 1990s, this printing signed by S. Venkitaramanan, Governor from 1990 to 1992. It was superseded by the Mahatma Gandhi series ten introduced from 1996, and notes of this pattern were steadily withdrawn thereafter. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — guaranteed by the Central Government | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Ten rupees, dhow ('boat') reverse; serial prefix 73L | Signature: S. Venkitaramanan, Governor | Watermark: Lion Capital of Ashoka, in the blank oval at left #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-boat-v14/ The artwork, front: No portrait: the Lion Capital of Ashoka from Sarnath stands at the right between two carved pillars, the state emblem that fronted every Indian note before Gandhi. The centre carries the promise to pay the bearer the sum of ten rupees in English and Hindi around a large ornamented 10, with RESERVE BANK OF INDIA and GUARANTEED BY THE CENTRAL GOVERNMENT above. Serial V/14 444576 at both corners, and दस रुपये at lower right. The artwork, back: The vignette that gives the series its name: a lateen-rigged coastal dhow under full sail on a choppy sea, hills behind, framed in a fine engraved oval. Down the left runs the language panel giving ten rupees in the official languages of India. Below the boat sits the Reserve Bank of India seal with its palm tree and tiger, and TEN RUPEES with दस रुपये close the panel. In circulation: The dhow design served as India's ten-rupee note through the 1970s and 1980s, printed under successive governors and worn thin in daily use. It gave way in the 1990s to newer ten-rupee designs, and finally to the Mahatma Gandhi series note of 1996, which carried the portrait in place of the Lion Capital. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Ten rupees, "boat" reverse; serial prefix V/14 | Signature: R. N. Malhotra, Governor | Watermark: Lion Capital of Ashoka, in the blank panel at left #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-brown/ The artwork, front: Plain and businesslike: the value 10 boxed at the upper left, "RESERVE BANK OF INDIA" across an engraved band, and beneath it the line "GUARANTEED BY THE CENTRAL GOVERNMENT". The promise to pay ten rupees is set twice, English at the left and Hindi at the right, flanking a large numeral on a lace-work ground. At the right, between two carved pillars, stands the Lion Capital of Ashoka from Sarnath — the state emblem, with its wheel and bull below. The artwork, back: A lateen-rigged sailing boat runs before the wind in an oval frame, low hills and palms on the far shore, the sea worked in fine engraved lines. Below it sits the Reserve Bank's seal, the palm tree and tiger in a medallion. The left panel carries the denomination in the official languages, stacked script upon script; along the foot, "दस रुपये" and "TEN RUPEES". In circulation: The brown ten with the sailing boat served through the 1970s and 1980s, one of the workhorse notes of the period. It gave way in the early 1990s to a redesigned ten with peacocks on the reverse, and then, from 1996, to the Mahatma Gandhi series that replaced the Lion Capital across the board. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India, guaranteed by the Central Government | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Ten rupees, Lion Capital front with sailing-boat reverse | Printer: India Security Press, Nashik | Watermark: Lion Capital of Ashoka | Security: Serial in the two-line prefix style, R/77, in the upper right panel #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-gandhi-wildlife/ The artwork, front: Mahatma Gandhi at the right, smiling, in the familiar 1946 portrait that took over the face of Indian currency from 1996. Centre, the value in Hindi and English — दस रुपये, TEN RUPEES — set in a rosette of small floral discs, above the Reserve Bank's promise to pay and the Governor's signature. Lower left, the Lion Capital of Ashoka; right, a silver band carrying the numeral 10. The artwork, back: A crowded wildlife group in ornate scrollwork: an Indian rhinoceros in profile at the left, a tiger's head snarling at the front, and behind them an elephant with one tusk raised. It is the reverse that gives the series its collectors' nickname. Down the left edge, the denomination in the fifteen other official languages; TEN RUPEES and दस रुपये along the foot, 10 in each upper corner. In circulation: Introduced in 1996 as part of the Mahatma Gandhi series and printed in very large numbers for two decades, with security features tightened along the way. Superseded in January 2018 by the chocolate-brown ₹10 of the Mahatma Gandhi New Series, which carries the Konark Sun Temple chariot wheel on the back. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — "Guaranteed by the Central Government" | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Mahatma Gandhi series, from 1996 — the "Gandhi–wildlife" ₹10 | Signature: Governor, Reserve Bank of India | Watermark: Mahatma Gandhi portrait with electrotype 10 in the blank panel | Security: Windowed security thread and latent-image band at the right #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-ghandi/ The artwork, front: Mahatma Gandhi in three-quarter profile, spectacled and smiling, taken from the 1946 portrait — the face of every Indian note since 1996. Above, the issuer's name in Devanagari and English with the promise to pay the bearer ten rupees; the Lion Capital of Ashoka sits lower left, the Reserve Bank seal at right. Serial 94A 334427 in red, twice. The rupee symbol marks the later ₹ design. The artwork, back: A crowded triple vignette in deep maroon: an Indian rhinoceros in left profile, a tusked elephant behind, and a snarling Bengal tiger filling the centre, all wrapped in scrolling engraved foliage — the fauna panel that has served this denomination since the mid-1990s. The denomination runs down the left in fifteen official languages; the year 2017 is printed small on the plinth beneath the animals. In circulation: The Mahatma Gandhi series ₹10 with this animal reverse ran from 1996, gaining the ₹ symbol early in the 2010s. The design was superseded in January 2018 by the chocolate-brown Mahatma Gandhi New Series ₹10 showing the Konark Sun Temple chariot; earlier notes such as this one remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — guaranteed by the Central Government | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Mahatma Gandhi series, ₹ symbol issue, dated 2017 | Signature: Governor, Reserve Bank of India | Watermark: Mahatma Gandhi portrait with electrotype 10 in the clear panel | Dimensions: 137 × 63 mm #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-new/ In circulation: Came home from the India journeys of 1992–2018 — one of 23 India notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-old2/ In circulation: Came home from the India journeys of 1992–2018 — one of 23 India notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 #### ₹10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-10-orange/ The artwork, front: Salmon and orange over pale green end panels, with "भारतीय रिज़र्व बैंक / RESERVE BANK OF INDIA" and the central government guarantee stacked at the top. A big 10 sits in a star-shaped guilloche rosette, flanked by the promise to pay in Hindi and English. Right, the Lion Capital of Ashoka above सत्यमेव जयते; below centre, the Reserve Bank seal with its palm and tiger, and the Governor's signature. Red serials, 23T 107125. The artwork, back: A quiet engraved landscape in red-brown: a low pavilion with arched openings, set back among heavy stands of mature trees, approached by a broad paved causeway running straight to its steps — a formal garden laid out in the Mughal manner. The fifteen-language denomination panel runs down the left edge, with 10 in the corners and दस रुपये beside TEN RUPEES along the foot. A blank oval at right carries the watermark. In circulation: One of the long-running Lion Capital designs; the signature of S. Venkitaramanan places this printing in the early 1990s. The type was displaced from 1996, when the Mahatma Gandhi series 10-rupee note took over, and the older orange notes were gradually called in through the following years. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India, guaranteed by the Central Government | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Lion Capital (Ashoka Pillar) issue, 10 Rupees, orange-brown | Signature: S. Venkitaramanan, Governor | Watermark: Lion Capital of Ashoka, in the blank oval panel | Security: Embedded security thread; red serial 23T 107125 printed twice #### ₹20 — Twenty Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-20-ghandi/ The artwork, front: Mahatma Gandhi at right, smiling, in the 1946 portrait that has fronted every Indian note since 1996. The centre carries the bank's name in Hindi and English, the Central Government guarantee, a large ornamental 20 and "बीस रुपये", with the promise to pay in both scripts above the Governor's signature. Left of the watermark window stands the Lion Capital of Ashoka; a small Reserve Bank seal sits lower right, beside a bright vertical 20 panel. The artwork, back: A tropical coastal scene in reds and pale greens: coconut palms crowding the foreground, a shoreline and headland receding into hazy hills — the Mount Harriet view over the sea in the Andaman Islands. The bank's name in Hindi arches over the vignette, TWENTY RUPEES and बीस रुपये run along the foot, and the narrow left-hand panel gives the denomination in fifteen languages. In circulation: The red-orange ₹20 of the Mahatma Gandhi series entered circulation in 2001 and was printed in large numbers for close to two decades. It was superseded in 2019 by the greenish-yellow Mahatma Gandhi (New) Series ₹20 bearing the Ellora Caves, though notes of this older design remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — "Guaranteed by the Central Government" | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Twenty Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Mahatma Gandhi series ₹20, introduced 2001 | Watermark: Mahatma Gandhi portrait with electrotype 20 in the left-hand window | Security: Embedded windowed security thread; denomination in fifteen languages on the reverse panel | Signature: Governor, Reserve Bank of India #### ₹50 — Fifty Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-50/ The artwork, front: Mahatma Gandhi at the right, from the familiar 1946 portrait, smiling in glasses and shawl. Above, "Reserve Bank of India" in Devanagari and English with "Guaranteed by the Central Government"; a large ornamented 50 sits in a floral cartouche at the centre, with the promise to pay fifty rupees in Hindi and English below. The Lion Capital of Ashoka stands at the lower left, above the Governor's signature and red serial numbers. The artwork, back: The Parliament House in New Delhi — Sansad Bhavan, its colonnaded circular drum ringed by pillars, the national flag flying from the dome — set in an engraved frame of scrollwork and flowers. The language panel at the left gives the denomination in India's official languages; the clear watermark window occupies the right, with "50" and "Fifty Rupees" in Devanagari and English along the foot. In circulation: Part of the Mahatma Gandhi series that replaced the older Ashoka Pillar notes from 1996; this design of the fifty circulated into the 2010s, when the Mahatma Gandhi New Series fifty of 2017, smaller and fluorescent blue with the Hampi chariot on the reverse, superseded it. Older notes remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: Fifty Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Mahatma Gandhi series | Signature: Governor, Reserve Bank of India | Security: Windowed security thread; watermark panel at right of the reverse #### ₹100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-100/ The artwork, front: Mahatma Gandhi at the right, smiling and bespectacled, drawn from the 1946 portrait that has fronted every Indian note since 1996. Above him the issuer's name in Devanagari and English, with "GUARANTEED BY THE CENTRAL GOVERNMENT" and the bilingual promise to pay one hundred rupees. Lower left, the Lion Capital of Ashoka over "सत्यमेव जयते"; at right the Reserve Bank seal with its palm and tiger. Red serials, upper right and lower left. The artwork, back: A wide Himalayan panorama fills the centre within a scalloped arch — the snows of the Kanchenjunga range, engraved in grey and violet with the ridges running left to right below a pale sky. To the left, the language panel giving "one hundred rupees" in fifteen official languages. The denomination repeats in all four corners, with "एक सौ रुपये" and "ONE HUNDRED RUPEES" along the foot, and a clear watermark window at the right. In circulation: The hundred-rupee note of the Mahatma Gandhi series, introduced in 1996 to replace the older Ashoka Pillar design, and printed in this form for roughly a decade before dated issues appeared. It stayed legal tender through the 2016 withdrawal of the 500 and 1000, and was gradually displaced by the lavender Mahatma Gandhi New Series 100 from 2018. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Mahatma Gandhi series, no date printed | Signature: Governor, Reserve Bank of India, at lower centre | Watermark: Mahatma Gandhi portrait with electrotype 100 in the clear window | Security: Windowed security thread, latent 100 in the vertical band beside the portrait, intaglio printing | Dimensions: 157 × 73 mm #### ₹100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-100-ghandi/ The artwork, front: Mahatma Gandhi in three-quarter profile at the right, the familiar smiling 1946 study that has fronted every Indian note since 1996. Left of him, the Reserve Bank seal with its palm and tiger, the intaglio 100 and एक सौ रुपये stacked in the centre, and the promise to pay in Hindi and English above Raghuram G. Rajan's signature. The Lion Capital of Ashoka sits low at the left, beside the blank watermark panel, with red serials at upper right and lower left. The artwork, back: A long Himalayan panorama fills the centre panel — snow ridges and shadowed foothills framed by a scalloped arch, engraved in slate blue over pale green guilloche. At the left, the denomination in fifteen official languages boxed in a narrow panel; ₹100 in both upper corners, 100 एक सौ रुपये and ONE HUNDRED RUPEES along the foot, with the year 2015 printed centrally below. In circulation: The Mahatma Gandhi Series hundred ran from 1996, this later printing carrying the ₹ symbol adopted in 2010. Unaffected by the November 2016 withdrawal of the 500 and 1000, it stayed in daily use until the lavender Mahatma Gandhi (New) Series 100, with Rani ki Vav on the reverse, arrived in 2018 and gradually displaced it. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India / भारतीय रिज़र्व बैंक | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Mahatma Gandhi Series, dated 2015 | Signature: Raghuram G. Rajan, Governor | Watermark: Mahatma Gandhi portrait with electrotype 100 in the clear panel at left | Security: Windowed security thread inscribed भारत and RBI; intaglio printing and raised triangle identification mark #### ₹100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-100-new/ The artwork, front: Mahatma Gandhi, from the 1946 portrait taken at the Viceroy's House — the image that replaced the Lion Capital as the face of every Indian note from 1996 onward. To the left, the Reserve Bank seal and the denomination in fifteen official languages. The artwork, back: the Himalaya — the Kangchenjunga massif under snow, one of the few Gandhi-series notes to carry a landscape rather than a monument. The mountains sit above the Saka-era date and the RBI governor's signature. In circulation: Issued from 1996 and carried on the 1998, 2005, and 2007 journeys — this exact note came home in a money belt from Delhi in 2005. Withdrawn after the 2016–2018 redesign introduced the lavender ₹100. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Series: Mahatma Gandhi, 1996 | Collected: Delhi, 2005 | Watermark: Gandhi portrait + electrotype 100 | Security: Windowed thread, latent image #### ₹100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/india-100-old/ The artwork, front: No portrait at all: the Lion Capital of Ashoka from Sarnath stands in its own arched panel at the right, the state emblem doing the work a head of state would elsewhere. "Reserve Bank of India" runs across the top, with "Guaranteed by the Central Government" beneath, and the Hindi equivalents below that. The English promise to pay flanks a large white 100 on a green guilloche field. Red serials, top right and bottom left. The artwork, back: A dam holds the centre: a long embankment running off into the distance, spillway gates, powerhouse sheds and cranes at the water's edge — the sort of multipurpose river project that stood for the planned economy of the Nehru years, and generally identified as Hirakud on the Mahanadi. At the left, a tall panel gives "one hundred rupees" in the official languages; below it the Reserve Bank seal with its palm and tiger. In circulation: The Lion Capital design carried the hundred-rupee note from the early republic through to the mid-1990s, this particular signing belonging to the late 1970s or early 1980s. It was displaced by the Mahatma Gandhi series introduced in 1996, which put the 1946 portrait where the Sarnath capital had been. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of India — "Guaranteed by the Central Government" | Currency: Rupee (₹) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the India journeys, 1992–2018 | Series: Lion Capital (Ashoka Pillar) issue, undated | Signature: I. G. Patel, Governor | Security: Repeated "Reserve Bank" lettering worked into the underprint beside the central panel ### Indonesia — 13 notes (Rupiah) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia/ #### Rp100 — One Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-100/ In circulation: Came home from the Indonesia journeys of 1993–2011 — one of 13 Indonesia notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 #### Rp100 — One Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-100-gjp0/ The artwork, front: A red-and-orange engraving of a pinisi, the two-masted Bugis-Makassar schooner, labelled PERAHU PINISI, running under full sail across a choppy sea. BANK INDONESIA sits at the top right beside the Garuda Pancasila arms, over the date 1992 and the word DIREKSI, with signatures for the Gubernur and the Direktur below. The value reads SERATUS RUPIAH above a large 100; the left corner repeats 100 over a lettered B panel. The artwork, back: Anak Gunung Krakatau — the young cone risen inside the caldera of Krakatoa in the Sunda Strait — shown mid-eruption, a heavy plume boiling from the summit while the low ridge of the crater rim runs off across the water in pale green and blue. BANK INDONESIA arches over the scene. Serial number GJP083341 appears twice, and a Javanese-style carved rosette fills the left half. In circulation: Issued on the 1992 date and printed through the following years, this was Indonesia's last 100 rupiah banknote. Inflation and the rupiah's collapse in the late 1990s emptied it of value, and the small aluminium 100 rupiah coin took over everyday use before Bank Indonesia withdrew the note. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1992 (Direksi 1992) | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang RI — imprint dated 1993 | Signature: Gubernur and Direktur #### Rp100 — One Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-100-jey3/ The artwork, front: A Victoria crowned pigeon, named beneath in the plate as GOURA VICTORIA, stands in profile among low foliage, its lace-like crest fanned out at the top left of the note. Behind it, greenish leaf and flower ornament runs through the guilloche work. To the right, the Garuda Pancasila arms hang above a ribbon of engine-turned lines; BANK INDONESIA and SERATUS RUPIAH sit centrally in red, with the designer's credit, Heru Soeroso, at the foot. The artwork, back: The Tangga dam on the Asahan river in North Sumatra, captioned BENDUNGAN TANGGA ASAHAN: a spillway crest with its gatehouse and control cabin, three jets of white water breaking below, and steep forested valley walls closing in on both sides. An oval frame of fine line work carries the counterfoil at left, the serial number appearing twice, and a warning panel in Indonesian sits under the vignette. In circulation: Issued in 1984 as part of Bank Indonesia's wildlife-themed run of notes and current through the second half of the decade. A new 100 rupiah note followed in 1992; after that the denomination survived only as a coin, and paper hundreds were withdrawn from everyday use. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1984 issue, Goura victoria type | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang Republik Indonesia (Peruri) | Signature: Arifin M. Siregar as Gubernur, with a Direktur alongside | Security: Indonesian counterfeiting warning panel on the reverse; serial number printed twice, prefix JEY #### Rp500 — Five Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-500-1982/ The artwork, front: No portrait here — the note gives its face over to a plant. At the left stands a flowering Amorphophallus titanum, the titan arum of Sumatra, its pale spadix rising from a deep red spathe and captioned in small type with the Latin name. The denomination is spelled out in full, LIMA RATUS RUPIAH, above the year 1982 and the signatures of the Gubernur and a Direktur. The Garuda Pancasila crest sits top right, engraver's credit SOERITO DEL below. The artwork, back: A wide engraved view of a Bank Indonesia office building: a colonnaded two-storey block with a tiled roof, the national flag on a pole before it and BANK INDONESIA lettered across the façade, framed by heavy shade trees and garden railings. The scene sits in an oval of guilloche work, with the serial number PBL 089404 twice, and a counterfeiting-penalty notice in Indonesian running along the ornamented lower band. In circulation: Issued in 1982 as part of Bank Indonesia's flora-and-fauna designs of the period, and current through the 1980s. A new 500 rupiah note followed in 1988, and once the 500 rupiah coin took over the denomination the paper note was retired from everyday use. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1982, dated on the face | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang Republik Indonesia (PERURI), credited at lower right | Signature: Two signatures, titled Gubernur and Direktur | Security: Indonesian penalty clause against imitating or circulating counterfeit notes, printed on the back #### Rp500 — Five Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-500-1988/ The artwork, front: A Timor deer stands in dappled forest at the left, named in the plate beneath it as Cervus timorensis, the artist's credit SOERIPTO DEL. tucked into the lower margin. To its right, BANK INDONESIA and the year 1988 sit over a rosette of red, ochre and green guilloche. The Garuda Pancasila arms occupy the upper right, and LIMA RATUS RUPIAH runs across the foot in a green band. The artwork, back: The Bank Indonesia building at Cirebon, captioned GEDUNG BANK INDONESIA CIREBON — a heavy colonial-era block with a corner clock tower, drawn with trees in front and a steamer funnel just visible at the right. A carved wayang head fills the top right corner, harlequin-patterned lathework the top left, and the Indonesian counterfeiting warning sits in a red panel at the bottom. In circulation: Issued from 1988 as part of Bank Indonesia's wildlife-themed run of the late 1980s. It was superseded by the 1992-dated 500 rupiah note showing an orang-utan, and by then the 500 rupiah coin had taken over most everyday use; the paper 500 has long since left circulation. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1988, dated on the face beneath the bank's name | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang Republik Indonesia (Peruri), credited in the lower margin | Signature: Two signatures of the Direksi — Gubernur and Direktur | Security: Indonesian-language counterfeiting warning printed in a panel on the back; serial in the style RHT 257495, twice on the back #### Rp500 — Five Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-500-1992-rfa/ The artwork, front: An orangutan — captioned ORANG UTAN — sits on a fallen branch in dense rainforest, drawn in warm browns against a green canopy that fills the left half of the note. BANK INDONESIA runs along the top, LIMA RATUS RUPIAH along the foot, and the garuda arms sit in the upper right corner. Beneath them, a rosette carries the date 1992 with the Direksi signatures of the Gubernur and Direktur. The artwork, back: A rumah adat of East Kalimantan — the caption reads RUMAH ADAT KALIMANTAN TIMUR — a long timber house raised on posts, with a deep shingled roof, carved gable boards and rows of figures worked into the panels, set among tall trees. Opposite it, a green medallion of stylised foliage, and the serial number RFA 068248 printed twice, once in red at the lower left. In circulation: Issued from 1992, with printings continuing through the decade — this one carries the Peruri imprint dated 1993. It served alongside the 500-rupiah coin, which steadily took over the denomination as inflation pushed the note out of everyday use, and Bank Indonesia withdrew it from circulation in the following decade. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1992 series, 500 rupiah (orangutan) | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang RI (Peruri), imprint dated 1993 | Signature: Direksi 1992 — Gubernur and Direktur | Security: Microprinted counterfeiting warning curving across the reverse; watermark panel at centre of both sides #### Rp500 — Five Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-500-2/ In circulation: Came home from the Indonesia journeys of 1993–2011 — one of 13 Indonesia notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 #### Rp500 — Five Hundred Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-500-3/ In circulation: Came home from the Indonesia journeys of 1993–2011 — one of 13 Indonesia notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 #### Rp1000 — One Thousand Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-1000/ In circulation: Came home from the Indonesia journeys of 1993–2011 — one of 13 Indonesia notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: One Thousand Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 #### Rp1000 — One Thousand Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-1000-lake-toba/ The artwork, front: A wide engraved panorama of Danau Toba, named in small capitals across the foot of the plate — the flooded caldera in northern Sumatra, its ridges and headlands falling steeply to the water. Bank Indonesia is lettered across the top with 1000 at either side and SERIBU RUPIAH below. At the right, the Garuda Pancasila arms above the year 1992, DIREKSI, and the signatures of the Gubernur and Direktur. The artwork, back: Lompat batu on Pulau Nias, again captioned on the plate: a young man in headdress and warrior dress caught mid-leap over a stacked stone pillar, with the tall steep-roofed traditional Nias houses and a row of onlookers behind. Serial MCR088261 sits in black at the upper right and red at the lower left, above a two-line Indonesian warning against counterfeiting and its prison penalty. In circulation: Part of Bank Indonesia's 1992-dated family of notes, this one carrying a 1993 printing imprint, and a workhorse note through the 1990s. It was superseded by the 2000-dated 1000 rupiah with Kapitan Pattimura, after which the Lake Toba design was steadily withdrawn from everyday circulation. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: One Thousand Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1992 (dated 1992, printing imprint 1993) | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang Republik Indonesia (Peruri) | Signature: Two signatures, Gubernur and Direktur, under "1992 DIREKSI" | Security: Intaglio engraving; three-letter, six-digit serial (MCR 088261) in black and red; printed counterfeiting warning #### Rp1000 — One Thousand Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-1000-old/ In circulation: Came home from the Indonesia journeys of 1993–2011 — one of 13 Indonesia notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: One Thousand Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 #### Rp1000 — One Thousand Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-1000-sultan/ The artwork, front: A portrait of Raja Sisingamangaraja XII, the last priest-king of the Batak of north Sumatra, named beneath in small capitals and wearing the tall dark headcloth of his rank. To the left, the Garuda Pancasila arms struck as a medallion, the date 1987 with the word DIREKSI, and signatures for Gubernur and Direktur. Woven Batak geometric bands run under the value; the engraver's credit reads A.L. RORING DEL. The artwork, back: The Siti Hinggil of the Kraton at Yogyakarta — the raised audience pavilion of the sultan's palace, drawn head-on with its tiered roof, timber posts and broad flight of steps, framed by heavy trees and a lamp standard to the right. Serial number twice in black, upper right and lower left. A warning line in Indonesian sets out the prison penalty for forging or circulating counterfeit notes; credited SUDIRNO DEL. In circulation: Dated 1987 and issued that year, this thousand-rupiah note served through the late 1980s until the 1992-dated redesign — again Sisingamangaraja XII, but paired with a Lake Toba view — took over the denomination. Notes of the older design were then withdrawn as the 1992 family filled the tills. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: One Thousand Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1987 (Direksi 1987) | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang RI, Jakarta (imprint at lower right of the face) | Signature: Two: Gubernur and Direktur | Security: Serial XFM 470824, printed twice in black; statutory counterfeiting warning on the back #### Rp5000 — Five Thousand Rupiah URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/indonesia-5000/ The artwork, front: A sasando rote fills the right half — the Rotenese tube zither, its bamboo body strung within a fan of split lontar palm, labelled plainly beneath as SASANDO ROTE. Behind it hang bands of ikat cloth in dark reds and browns. The Garuda arms sit top right beside BANK INDONESIA in a hatched panel; LIMA RIBU RUPIAH and a large 5000 run across the top left, above the 1992 date and the Direksi signatures. The artwork, back: Danau Kelimutu on Flores, drawn from above: the ridged, gullied flanks of the volcano with its crater lakes set in the rim, one red, one turquoise, one black in shadow. Green highland and pale sky behind, BANK INDONESIA above and LIMA RIBU RUPIAH below, with 5000 large at the upper right and again over a rosette at the lower left. Serial number OGS085511 twice. In circulation: Issued from 1992 as part of Bank Indonesia's cultural series, and printed with later dates through the decade; it stayed in hand through the monetary upheaval of 1997–98. Replaced from 2001 by the blue 5000 rupiah bearing Tuanku Imam Bonjol, and long since demonetised. Details: Issuer: Bank Indonesia | Currency: Rupiah (Rp) | Denomination: Five Thousand Rupiah | Collected: on the Indonesia journeys, 1993–2011 | Series: 1992 cultural series, dated 1992 | Printer: Perum Percetakan Uang RI (PERURI), imprint dated 1992 | Signature: Direksi 1992 — Gubernur and Direktur ### Italy — 1 note (Lira) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/italy/ #### ₤1000 — One Thousand Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/italy-1000/ The artwork, front: Maria Montessori in old age, three-quarter profile, engraved by F. Zannotti after a design by Gio. Pino, with her name set vertically at the right edge. The value reads twice — "1000" in heavy claret figures and "LIRE MILLE" across the top, above "pagabili a vista al portatore". At centre-left a circular medallion holds the winged lion of St Mark with an open book, over small cross-bearing shields, against a dense field of coloured scale-work. The artwork, back: Two children bent over their work at a school desk: a girl on the left, hair tied with a ribbon, resting on her arms beside an open book and inkwell; a boy beside her writing with a pen, sleeves rolled. A plain teaching scene rather than a monument, chosen to stand for the Montessori method. Engraved by A. De Angelis. "1000" in the upper right, with the counterfeiting warning below. In circulation: Issued under the ministerial decree of 3 October 1990 and circulating through the 1990s as the last 1000-lire note, following the Marco Polo design. It was superseded by the euro: lire ceased to be legal tender on 28 February 2002, with exchange at the Banca d'Italia continuing for some years after. Details: Currency: Lira (₤) | Denomination: One Thousand Lira | Collected: on the Italy journeys, 2001–2016 | Issuer: Banca d'Italia | Series: Decreto Ministeriale 3 ottobre 1990 | Printer: Officina Carte Valori della Banca d'Italia | Signature: Carlo A. Ciampi, Governatore; Speziali, Cassiere | Dimensions: 112 × 62 mm ### Kenya — 2 notes (Shilling) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/kenya/ #### KSh10 — Ten Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/kenya-10/ The artwork, front: Daniel Toroitich arap Moi, named and titled beneath his portrait as President of the Republic of Kenya, in a pinstriped suit with a rose in the buttonhole — the flower repeated as engraved blooms down the left edge. Centre, the Kenyan arms: two lions holding spears either side of a Maasai shield, over the motto HARAMBEE. Bilingual headings, BANKI KUU YA KENYA above CENTRAL BANK OF KENYA, and SHILINGI KUMI along the foot. The artwork, back: A crescent-shaped college building with a colonnaded portico, students crossing the forecourt, and two graduates in cap and gown at the right beside an unrolled diploma. Behind rise the snow-streaked peaks of Mount Kenya, printed in soft mauve and blue. A large rosette guilloche sits under TEN SHILLINGS, with a key motif in the right margin. In circulation: Part of the Moi portrait series dated by year on each printing; this one bears 2nd January 1992. Ten-shilling notes were retired in the mid-1990s when a circulating ten-shilling coin took over the value, and the whole Moi design was superseded by the 1996 series before Kenya moved to non-portrait notes in 2019. Details: Issuer: Banki Kuu ya Kenya — Central Bank of Kenya | Currency: Shilling (KSh) | Denomination: Ten Shillings | Collected: on the Kenya journey, 1992 | Series: Moi portrait issue, dated 2nd January 1992 | Signature: Two signatures for the Board of Directors — Governor and Member | Watermark: Lion's head | Security: Serial AV5537804 twice — vertical in red at left, horizontal in black at right #### KSh20 — Twenty Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/kenya-20/ The artwork, front: Daniel Toroitich arap Moi, second President of the Republic of Kenya, in a pinstriped suit with a rose in the buttonhole — the portrait that carried every Kenyan note through the 1980s and early 1990s. To its left the national arms: two lions gripping spears, the Maasai shield and the motto HARAMBEE. Titles run in both languages, BANKI KUU YA KENYA above CENTRAL BANK OF KENYA, with SHILINGI ISHIRINI along the foot and the date 2nd January 1992. The artwork, back: The Moi International Sports Centre at Kasarani, Nairobi, drawn from above so the whole bowl of the stadium and its access ramps fill the field — built for the 1987 All-Africa Games and a favourite motif of the period. Behind it rise the jagged peaks of Mount Kenya; at the left stands a torch on a tall staff. TWENTY SHILLINGS in plain capitals across the top. In circulation: The Moi portrait notes replaced the Kenyatta issues from 1980 and ran through dated printings into the mid-1990s, this one from 2nd January 1992. A wholly redesigned series followed later in the decade, and the twenty-shilling note itself was eventually superseded by a coin. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Kenya / Banki Kuu ya Kenya | Currency: Shilling (KSh) | Denomination: Twenty Shillings | Collected: on the Kenya journey, 1992 | Series: Moi portrait issue, dated 2nd January 1992 | Signature: Two signatures for the Board of Directors — Governor and Member | Security: Serial number twice, prefix over series in fraction form (H/42) ### Malawi — 3 notes (Kwacha) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malawi/ #### MK1 — One Kwacha URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malawi-1/ The artwork, front: Hastings Kamuzu Banda, Life President of Malawi, in an oval frame of fine guilloche work at the right — the face on every kwacha note of his rule. To the left, a coconut palm leans over Lake Malawi, a fisherman poling a dugout canoe across the water, with a sun rising in ruled rays behind the hills. The bank's promise to pay K1, the date 1st MAY 1992, a single Governor's signature, and the line "ISSUED UNDER THE RESERVE BANK OF MALAWI ACT 1989". "One Kwacha" is spelled out at lower left. The artwork, back: Tobacco, plainly labelled as such: two growers at work in a dense field of broad-leaved plants, one standing among the rows and smiling out, the other bent to the crop, with flowering tops and a range of hills beyond. Tobacco was and remains Malawi's chief export earner, so the choice is less decorative than statistical. Corner K1 counters sit on wedge-shaped panels of red and violet, over pale green guilloche. date. 1992 May. In circulation: Introduced on the 1992 date it bears, in the last years of one-party rule. After the 1994 transition the Banda portrait was dropped, and from 1997 the notes carried John Chilembwe instead; the K1 itself gave way to a coin and the paper note was retired. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of Malawi, under the Reserve Bank of Malawi Act 1989 | Currency: Kwacha (MK) | Denomination: One Kwacha | Collected: on the Malawi journey, 1992 | Series: Dated 1st May 1992 | Watermark: Cockerel, in the pale panel at the left of the face | Signature: One, the Governor #### MK5 — Five Kwacha URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malawi-5/ In circulation: Came home from the Malawi journey of 1992 — one of 3 Malawi notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of Malawi | Currency: Kwacha (MK) | Denomination: Five Kwacha | Collected: on the Malawi journey, 1992 #### MK100 — One Hundred Kwacha URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malawi-100/ The artwork, front: Kenneth Kaunda at right, smiling in an open-necked safari suit — the founding president, still on the money at the very end of his time in office. At left an African fish eagle stoops with wings raised; palm trees fill the middle ground behind the promise to pay. The arms of Zambia sit centre-bottom on the motto scroll "One Zambia, One Nation", with the serial number set vertically in red. The artwork, back: Victoria Falls across the whole width, the gorge in purple and slate with a faint rainbow arcing over the spray. In front of it stands the Freedom Statue from Lusaka — the figure breaking the chains that commemorates independence. A Cape buffalo's head fills the lower left corner, and a fish's tail curls into the right margin. "ONE HUNDRED KWACHA" runs along a panel beneath. In circulation: The Kaunda portrait notes were the last of the one-party era; after his defeat in the 1991 elections his face was dropped and the fish eagle promoted to the main portrait on all Bank of Zambia notes from 1992. Inflation then pushed the 100 Kwacha to the bottom of the range before the 2013 rebasing retired it. Details: Issuer: Bank of Zambia | Currency: Kwacha (MK) | Denomination: One Hundred Kwacha | Collected: on the Malawi journey, 1992 | Series: Kaunda portrait issue, "One Zambia, One Nation" | Signature: A single signature, for the Governor | Security: Vertical red serial at left, black horizontal serial at lower right (prefix AB) ### Malaysia — 3 notes (Ringgit) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malaysia/ #### RM1 — One Ringgit URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malaysia-1/ The artwork, front: Tuanku Abdul Rahman ibni Tuanku Muhammad of Negeri Sembilan, the first Yang di-Pertuan Agong, at right in a royal tengkolok set with a star ornament and heavy braided collar. The legend reads "Wang kertas ini sah diperlakukan dengan nilai SATU RINGGIT" above the Governor's signature and the single word GABENOR. Behind it all, a woven songket lattice in dusty pink, with $1 and floral scrollwork along the foot. Serial GU0861333, red down the left edge and black at lower right. The artwork, back: The Tugu Peringatan Negara in Kuala Lumpur, named beneath the vignette — Felix de Weldon's bronze group of seven figures, one raising the national flag, standing on its plinth with the crescent-shaped colonnade and domed pavilions behind and trees crowding in. Top left, a rayed rosette enclosing an animal device; lower right, hibiscus blooms in rose and green beside a blue star medallion. "BANK NEGARA MALAYSIA" arches across the top, $1 at the corners. In circulation: The third series design, current through the 1980s and into the 1990s as Malaysia's everyday small note, and worn accordingly. It was superseded by the fourth series ringgit of the later 1990s, after which the one-ringgit note was reissued in polymer before returning to paper in the fifth series. Details: Issuer: Bank Negara Malaysia | Currency: Ringgit (RM) | Denomination: One Ringgit | Collected: on the Malaysia journey, 1993 | Series: Third series, with the portrait of the first Yang di-Pertuan Agong | Printer: Thomas De La Rue, imprinted at the foot of the back | Signature: Gabenor (Governor), Bank Negara Malaysia #### RM5 — Five Ringgit URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malaysia-5/ The artwork, front: Tuanku Abdul Rahman, the first Yang di-Pertuan Agong, at right in a plumed songkok-style headdress with the federal star-and-crescent badge, medals across his chest, framed by dense engraved foliage. To the left, "BANK NEGARA MALAYSIA" on a ribbon panel, and beneath it "WANG KERTAS INI SAH DIPERLAKUKAN DENGAN NILAI" over the words LIMA RINGGIT set in a rosette. The Gabenor's signature sits below. Serial PD1678991 in red, twice. The artwork, back: Istana Negara, the royal palace in Kuala Lumpur, in fine green line engraving: the domed pavilions at either end, the arcaded central block behind its flagstaff, and mature trees crowding the terraced gardens. The name is engraved beneath. Top left, the Bank Negara Malaysia kijang roundel; top right, "$5" among stylised blossoms. Thomas De La Rue is credited in small capitals at the foot. In circulation: One of the "$" denominated notes that carried Malaysia's currency through the 1980s and into the 1990s, alongside the same portrait on every value. It gave way to the redesigned series introduced from 1996, on which the denomination is spelled RM and the palace was dropped from the five. Details: Issuer: Bank Negara Malaysia | Currency: Ringgit (RM) | Denomination: Five Ringgit | Collected: on the Malaysia journey, 1993 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue (credited on the back) | Security: Hexagonal see-through register, front and back | Signature: Gabenor, Bank Negara Malaysia #### RM10 — Ten Ringgit URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/malaysia-10/ The artwork, front: Tuanku Abdul Rahman of Negeri Sembilan, the first Yang di-Pertuan Agong, in full dress uniform beneath a tengkolok — the portrait carried on every Malaysian note. The value is given only in Malay, "WANG KERTAS INI SAH DIPERLAKUKAN DENGAN NILAI SEPULUH RINGGIT", above the governor's signature and the title GABENOR. A songket-patterned panel runs down the centre, with an eight-point rosette left and a large engraved bird-form ornament along the foot. The artwork, back: The Kuala Lumpur railway station, captioned "STESEN BESAR KERETAPI TANAH MELAYU KUALA LUMPUR" — A.B. Hubback's 1910 Indo-Saracenic pile of onion domes, chattris and horseshoe arches, engraved in warm red. Top left, the Bank Negara kijang, the barking deer taken from an old Kelantan coin, set in a guilloche rosette; bottom right, sprays of bunga raya, the hibiscus national flower, in red and green. 1983 onward. In circulation: The third series, introduced in 1983–84 and printed through the following decade, was the workhorse Malaysian money of the 1980s and early 1990s. From the mid-1990s the fourth series, with its wider portrait panel and heavier security thread, took over the ten-ringgit denomination, and notes of this design were gradually withdrawn from circulation. Details: Issuer: Bank Negara Malaysia | Currency: Ringgit (RM) | Denomination: Ten Ringgit | Collected: on the Malaysia journey, 1993 | Series: Third series (1983–84 design) | Signature: Governor ("GABENOR"), single signature at centre | Watermark: Portrait of Tuanku Abdul Rahman | Security: Two-letter serial prefix, SK9653715, printed twice on the face ### Mexico — 4 notes (Peso) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/mexico/ #### $20 — Twenty Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/mexico-20-independence/ The artwork, front: The Army of the Three Guarantees entering Mexico City on 27 September 1821, engraved after the period print: Iturbide mounted at the centre, crowds and drummers beneath a triumphal arch hung with laurel and eagle. A billowing tricolour fills the field behind, its white band carrying the national arms; at left the regimental seal reading Unión, Religión, Independencia. Legends in Spanish, with the caption running along the lower edge. The artwork, back: The mangrove wetlands of Sian Ka'an in Quintana Roo, printed in soft olive and stone. A Morelet's crocodile lies half-submerged among the reeds, jaws slightly parted, while a heron banks overhead with wings outstretched. Mangrove crowns crowd the foreground; behind, a mosaic of pale interlocking facets suggests light on water. A short Spanish panel names the reserve as a World Heritage site. In circulation: A commemorative issue dated 5 October 2021, marking two centuries since the consummation of Mexican independence, and released alongside the standard polymer 20 dated 2018. It remains legal tender, but no further 20-peso note design has followed: Banco de México is handing the denomination over to the coin. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Twenty Pesos | Collected: on the Mexico journeys, 2015–2026 | Issuer: Banco de México | Series: Commemorative — Bicentenario de la Consumación de la Independencia Nacional; Ciudad de México, 5 Oct 2021 | Signature: Two: Junta de Gobierno and Cajero Principal | Security: Polymer substrate with transparent window carrying the dates 1821 and 2021; gold-toned raised 20s at lower left | Dimensions: 120 × 65 mm #### $20 — Twenty Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/mexico-20-juarez/ The artwork, front: Benito Juárez in stern three-quarter profile, high collar and dark coat, filling the right-hand third. Centre left, the Mexican coat of arms — the eagle on the nopal, snake in beak, framed by oak and laurel. Beneath it the place and date line, "México D.F. 26 Mar. 2002", with signatures for the Junta de Gobierno and the Cajero Principal. A clear stepped window sits at the left edge, "20 VEINTE PESOS" along the foot. The artwork, back: The Hemiciclo a Juárez in the Alameda Central of Mexico City: the seated Juárez in white marble flanked by a winged figure of Fame holding a laurel wreath and a robed woman with a torch, the semicircular Doric colonnade sweeping behind. A recumbent bronze lion lies at the left. "HEMICICLO A JUÁREZ" is lettered below, with "VEINTE" bottom left and a second clear window, carrying a ghosted 20, at the right. In circulation: Mexico's first polymer note, introduced in 2002 and circulating through the middle of the decade until a revised 20-peso polymer design, still built around Juárez and the Hemiciclo, took over from 2007. The denomination was reworked again in 2021 for the current series, which drops Juárez altogether. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Twenty Pesos | Collected: on the Mexico journeys, 2015–2026 | Issuer: Banco de México | Series: Serie U, dated 26 March 2002 | Signature: Two: Junta de Gobierno and Cajero Principal | Security: Polymer substrate with two clear stepped windows, the reverse one bearing a ghosted 20 | Dimensions: 120 × 66 mm #### $20 — Twenty Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/mexico-20-old/ The artwork, front: Benito Juárez in three-quarter view, severe in dark frock coat and white collar, engraved in slate grey against a wash of pink and buff. To his left the national arms — the golden eagle on the nopal, serpent in its beak, wreathed in oak and laurel. The place and date of issue run vertically beside it, with the Junta de Gobierno and Cajero Principal signatures below. A clear window at far left carries a stepped-fret motif and the figure 20. The artwork, back: The Hemiciclo a Juárez in the Alameda Central of Mexico City: the white marble semicircle of Doric columns, with Juárez seated at its centre, a winged figure of Glory at his shoulder and the Republic standing beside him bearing a torch. One of the monument's couchant lions fills the left foreground. The Banco de México seal sits above, the large 20 and PESOS at the right, VEINTE across the foot. In circulation: Mexico's first polymer note, the 20 pesos introduced in 2002 and reprinted through the following decade with fresh dates and series letters, this one made in May 2003. Juárez and his hemicycle stayed on the denomination until the G-series 20 of 2021, which turned instead to Independence and the wetlands of Sian Ka'an. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Twenty Pesos | Collected: on the Mexico journeys, 2015–2026 | Issuer: Banco de México | Series: Serie V, dated México, D.F. a 28 May 2003 | Security: Polymer substrate with clear window bearing a stepped-fret 20 | Signature: Two: Junta de Gobierno and Cajero Principal | Dimensions: 120 × 66 mm #### $50 — Fifty Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/mexico-50/ The artwork, front: José María Morelos y Pavón, bare-headed but for the knotted cloth band he always wore, engraved in deep wine-red against pale lilac and buff. To the left, the insurgent seal of his Army of the South — crossed cannons, an eagle on a bridge, the word SUD — above the two signatures for the Junta de Gobierno and the Cajero Principal. Behind it, a block of fine text taken from his call for slavery to be abolished for ever, and the dateline MÉXICO D.F. 13 MAY 2015. A butterfly in shifting gold sits upper left; the clear window at the right carries another, with the denomination in micro-lettering around it. The artwork, back: The aqueduct of Morelia in Michoacán, its stone arches marching off to the right under a domed tower, printed in the same wine-red. Monarch butterflies cross the field in several sizes, one large and pale, others small and outlined, a nod to the colonies that winter in the Michoacán highlands. Upper left, the seal of the Banco de México; below it the old glyph for Mechuacán with its fish. The transparent window and its butterfly show through from the front. In circulation: The polymer fifty of the type F family, in circulation from the mid-2000s and re-dated through the 2010s — this one 13 May 2015. It was superseded by the type G fifty of 2021, a horizontal-portrait design showing an axolotl and the chinampas of Xochimilco, and has since been steadily withdrawn. Details: Currency: Peso ($) | Denomination: Fifty Pesos | Collected: on the Mexico journeys, 2015–2026 | Issuer: Banco de México | Series: Type F polymer issue, dated México D.F., 13 May 2015; serial G8743419, Serie P | Signature: Two: Junta de Gobierno and Cajero Principal | Security: Clear polymer window with butterfly device and "50 PESOS CINCUENTA PESOS" micro-lettering; colour-shifting butterfly at upper left | Printer: Fábrica de Billetes del Banco de México ### Morocco — 2 notes (Dirham) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/morocco/ #### DH20 — Twenty Dirhams URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/morocco-20/ The artwork, front: King Mohammed VI in a dark suit and patterned tie, facing slightly left, engraved in fine violet line-work against a ground of woven zellige ornament. Above his shoulder sits the Moroccan royal coat of arms — crowned shield with the pentagram, flanked by lions. Arabic panels read Bank Al-Maghrib and twenty dirhams; below, the signatures of the Wali and the Government Commissioner. A crowned device shows in the pale right-hand margin. The artwork, back: Casablanca. The Hassan II Mosque dominates the centre, its tall square minaret rising over the prayer hall and the low city roofline behind, drawn in violet with the mosque set against the sea front. To the left, in mauve, a modern tramway viaduct crosses the field. Latin-script legends give BANK AL-MAGHRIB and 20 DIRHAMS, with lines of repeated microtext and the serial in red. In circulation: Dated 1433–2012 and released as part of Bank Al-Maghrib's modern series, replacing the earlier 20-dirham notes of the 1996 and 2005 issues. It remains current, the standard low-value note in daily Moroccan use, circulating with the 50, 100 and 200 dirhams of the same family. Details: Currency: Dirham (DH) | Denomination: Twenty Dirhams | Collected: on the Morocco journey, 2021 | Issuer: Bank Al-Maghrib (بنك المغرب) | Series: 1433–2012 series | Signature: The Wali of Bank Al-Maghrib and the Government Commissioner | Security: Windowed thread bearing the figure 20; repeated BANK AL-MAGHRIB microtext on the reverse #### DH50 — Fifty Dirhams URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/morocco-50/ The artwork, front: King Mohammed VI in a dark suit and tie, engraved in fine green line work and set against a keyhole arch of brick with a panel of blue-and-gold zellij tilework behind him. Above, the issuer's name in Arabic, بنك المغرب, with خمسون درهما beneath it, and the Moroccan royal coat of arms — crown, lions and star — between the text and the portrait. Large 50 top left and bottom right. The artwork, back: BANK AL-MAGHRIB and 50 DIRHAMS in Latin script, and the south-west of the country: a broad argan tree in full crown, a stepped waterfall dropping through wooded hills behind it, and in the foreground a terracotta oil vessel with argan nuts scattered below — the oil-pressing economy of the Souss. Rows of MAGHRIB microtext fill the right-hand field., with the dual date 1433 · 2012 in the margin. In circulation: Issued in 2012 as part of the series that carries the dual Hijri–Gregorian date 1433 · 2012, replacing the earlier 2002-dated 50 dirhams. It remains legal tender and in everyday use, the design unchanged apart from later signature combinations. Details: Currency: Dirham (DH) | Denomination: Fifty Dirhams | Collected: on the Morocco journey, 2021 | Issuer: Bank Al-Maghrib (بنك المغرب) | Series: 2012 series, dated 1433 · 2012 | Printer: Dar As-Sikkah, Bank Al-Maghrib's own works | Signature: Two, titled in Arabic: the Wali (Governor) of Bank Al-Maghrib and the Treasury delegate | Security: Windowed thread showing 50 and بنك المغرب in the apertures; horizontal microtext lines reading BANK AL MAGHRIB; raised orange dot pattern in both margins | Watermark: Electrotype 50 in the wide unprinted margin ### Nepal — 15 notes (Rupee) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal/ #### ₨1 — One Rupee URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-1/ The artwork, front: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev in military cap and heavy dark-rimmed spectacles, the plumed cap badge picking out the royal device. The centre panel carries the bank's name in Devanagari — नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक — above the guarantee text and the value spelled out, रुपैयाँ एक. Below sits a tiered pagoda temple with a gilt Nandi bull couchant on its plinth; winged kinnara figures run along the top edge, and the governor's signature crosses the temple steps. The artwork, back: Two Himalayan musk deer bound left across bare rock, one behind the other, their coats stippled and picked out in warm brown against a grey-blue plate. Behind them a sheer, jagged snow peak fills the sky. Top right, the old royal arms of Nepal with its plumed crown, crossed kukris and flanking Gurkha soldiers; a carved pillar and the bank seal close the left frame. The value reads रु १ and Re. 1. In circulation: Issued from the mid-1970s under Birendra and current through the 1980s. After the 1990 constitutional change the uniformed portrait was dropped, and from 1991 the one rupee showed the king in Nepalese dress with a topi. The denomination later gave way entirely to the one-rupee coin. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक) | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: One Rupee | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: King Birendra in military uniform; undated | Signature: Single signature, titled गभर्नर (Governor) | Security: Printed guarantee of His Majesty's Government; Devanagari letter-and-numeral serial prefix #### ₨2 — Two Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-2-king-leopard-b/ The artwork, front: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev in military dress, sash and heavy braid, wearing the plumed royal cap and his familiar dark-rimmed spectacles. Behind him a tiered pagoda temple of the Kathmandu valley rises through the guarantee text, all in Nepali: the bank's undertaking to pay two rupees on demand, with the Governor's signature beneath. The bank's roundel sits above the shaped watermark panel at right, a small standing deity below it. The artwork, back: A leopard walking out of tall grass, spotted flank and long curled tail worked in fine engraving — a quiet piece of Nepalese wildlife drawing rather than a monument. The banner above carries the denomination twice, "रुपैयाँ दुई" and "RUPEES TWO", flanking the crest. At right, the old royal arms of Nepal: crossed kukris, the cow and mountains, two soldiers, and the motto ribbon. In circulation: The uniformed Birendra design served through the 1980s and 1990s, one of the smallest denominations in daily use for tea and bus fares. It was overtaken after 2001 by notes bearing King Gyanendra, and then by the republican issues showing Everest in place of any monarch; the two-rupee value has since given way to coin. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (नेपाल राष्ट्र बैँक) | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Two Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: King Birendra in military uniform; leopard reverse | Signature: Governor, single signature at centre front | Security: Shaped watermark panel at right, clear on both sides; Devanagari serial with Devanagari prefix #### ₨5 — Five Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-5/ In circulation: Came home from the Nepal journeys of 1993–2014 — one of 15 Nepal notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Five Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 #### ₨5 — Five Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-5-birendra/ The artwork, front: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev at left, in dark tunic and spectacles, wearing the plumed royal crown with its long white bird-of-paradise spray. The centre panel carries the issuer's name and the guarantee clause in Devanagari above a three-tiered pagoda temple raised on a stepped plinth, its gilt roof finial and carved struts picked out in colour. The bank's circular seal sits top right; matching Devanagari serials run below. The artwork, back: Two long-haired yaks graze on rough highland pasture, one facing the viewer, before a range of snow-covered Himalayan peaks engraved in fine grey line. At upper right, the old royal arms of Nepal — crossed khukuri knives beneath the crown, flanked by a Gurkha soldier and a hill man, with mountains and footprints on the shield. The lower band reads रूपैयाँ पाँच and RUPEES FIVE.-rupupee.era pink frame throughout. In circulation: An issue of the long Birendra series, in which the king appears crowned rather than in the earlier uniformed portrait, and which stayed in use through the 1990s. Notes bearing Birendra's likeness gave way to Gyanendra portraits after 2001, and royal portraits vanished altogether from Nepalese currency after the monarchy ended, replaced by Mount Everest. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक), under guarantee of His Majesty's Government | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Five Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev, crowned portrait | Watermark: Plumed royal crown (Shri Pech) | Signature: One signature, Governor of Nepal Rastra Bank | Security: Devanagari serial prefix and numerals, repeated left and right #### ₨5 — Five Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-5-everest/ The artwork, front: Mount Everest fills the left panel, rendered in fine engraved line with the snow left as bare paper. In the centre, a tiered pagoda temple of the Kathmandu valley in copper and slate, printed over a guilloche ground, beneath the bank's name in Devanagari and the government guarantee text. The denomination reads रुपैयाँ पाँच, with the governor's signature below and Devanagari serial numbers at both lower corners. The artwork, back: Two yaks, shaggy and long-horned, stand on rough highland grass with a snow-covered Himalayan range rising pale green behind them — the standard image of the Nepali high country and its pack animals. The scene sits inside a red temple-strut frame with carved pillars, the bank's crest above the watermark window, and the value spelled in both scripts: रुपैया पाँच and RUPEES FIVE. In circulation: One of the republic-era notes issued from 2008, after the king's portrait was dropped from Nepali currency and Everest took its place. Reprinted through the following years under successive governors, with only small changes of shade and signature; it remains legal tender alongside later five-rupee printings. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक), guaranteed by the Government of Nepal | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Five Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Everest series, republic issue | Watermark: Mount Everest, in the blank panel at right | Signature: Governor (गभर्नर), single signature #### ₨10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-10-2012/ The artwork, front: Mount Everest fills the left panel, ridge and glacier engraved in fine line-work. At the centre, over a pale guilloche field, a four-armed Vishnu bearing chakra and conch stands upon the crowned figure of Garuda. Above it: श्री, नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक, and the guarantee of the Government of Nepal with the promise to pay ten rupees on demand — रुपैयाँ दश, तुरुन्त पाइनेछ. The bank's circular seal sits top right; twin serials, prefix and all, are set in Devanagari numerals. The artwork, back: Three blackbuck in a clearing of light green sal scrub — a horned buck at the right, a doe standing alert, and a fawn couched between them, all worked in reddish-brown intaglio against a soft green wash. The crowned emblem of Nepal rides the arched upper border, with NEPAL RASTRA BANK across the trees and RUPEES TEN along the foot. Value panels, ९० and 10, occupy the upper corners. In circulation: This front — Everest and the Vishnu-Garuda figure — belongs to the republican notes that displaced the royal portrait designs after 1he monarchy's abolition, and it has been printed from 2012 onward with successive governors' signatures. The blackbuck reverse, in use on the ten since the 1980s, was carried over unchanged. Still legal tender. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक) | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: 2012 issue, dated in Vikram Samvat on the front | Signature: Single signature of the Governor (गभर्नर) | Security: Matching serial numbers in Devanagari script, left and right #### ₨10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-10-king/ The artwork, front: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev in the plumed Shah crown, bespectacled, in high-collared uniform — engraved in dark brown against a fine lathe ground. At centre, printed in orange, four-armed Vishnu astride Garuda holding disc and mace, with the promise and the words रूपैयाँ दश across it. "श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक" heads the note, the bank's circular seal sits at upper right, and the Governor's signature runs beneath the vignette. Devanagari serials at both ends. The artwork, back: A blackbuck group in open sal woodland: a ram with long spiral horns, a doe browsing behind him, a fawn couched in the grass, the trees picked out in ochre and green over brown line-work. Nepal's royal-era arms stand at the right — crossed khukuris, the Himalaya, a Gurkha and a hillman as supporters, the motto ribbon below. Value in Devanagari at left, RUPEES TEN at right. In circulation: A Birendra-era design, current from the mid-1980s and reprinted through the 1990s with successive Governors' signatures. Notes of this type were superseded when King Gyanendra's portrait appeared on the 10 rupee in the early 2000s, and the royal portrait vanished altogether in 2008, replaced by a Mount Everest design after the monarchy ended. Details: Issuer: श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक — Nepal Rastra Bank | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: King Birendra, plumed crown portrait; Vishnu on Garuda at centre | Signature: Single signature, titled गभर्नर (Governor) | Security: Devanagari serial number with stacked prefix, printed twice #### ₨20 — Twenty Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-20/ The artwork, front: Mount Everest fills the left third in fine red line-engraving, the summit pyramid seen above the Khumbu ridges. Centre, in Devanagari, the bank's name and promise to pay twenty rupees over a golden shikhara temple and a standing pillar topped by a kneeling votive figure, in the manner of the Kathmandu Valley durbar squares. The Nepal Rastra Bank roundel sits top right, above the blank watermark oval; serials in Devanagari numerals with a Devanagari prefix. The artwork, back: A sambar stag stands full-face in tall elephant grass, antlers raised, with scattered trees and a snow range closing the horizon behind — lowland Tarai country of the sort protected in Nepal's western reserves. The state emblem crowns the top centre, above NEPAL RASTRA BANK in Roman capitals; RUPEES TWENTY and the year 2012 A.D. run along the lower band. Brick-red and pale green throughout. In circulation: Part of the republican series that dropped the royal portrait in favour of Mount Everest. This 2012-dated printing circulates alongside later dates of the same design, reissued with successive governors' signatures rather than redrawn, so the twenty has kept the deer and the Everest face for well over a decade. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक) | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Twenty Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Republican issue, dated 2012 A.D. on the reverse | Watermark: Mount Everest, in the clear oval at right | Signature: Governor (गभर्नर), Nepal Rastra Bank #### ₨50 — Fifty Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-50/ The artwork, front: Mount Everest fills the left panel, drawn from the Khumbu side with snow lying in the gullies — the mountain took the place of the royal portrait after the monarchy ended. Centre, in Devanagari: श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक, the guarantee of the Government of Nepal, and the value spelled out as रुपैयाँ पचास over a pale green underprint of a carved, many-windowed palace facade. The bank's roundel sits top right above the blank watermark arch; matching Devanagari serials below. The artwork, back: A Himalayan tahr — jharal to Nepalis — stands broadside on stony ground, horns curled back, the long winter mane hanging from throat and shoulder, with bare ridges and snow peaks receding behind it. Above, the national emblem and NEPAL RASTRA BANK in Roman capitals; along the foot, RUPEES FIFTY and the date 2012 A.D. Slate blue throughout, with green ornament in the borders. In circulation: The Everest-and-tahr fifty belongs to the republican series that replaced the notes bearing King Gyanendra's portrait, and was printed across several years, this one dated 2012. A redrawn 50-rupee note, with a revised Everest vignette and an updated map of Nepal, took over at the end of the 2010s; the older notes remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक), guaranteed by the Government of Nepal | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Fifty Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Republican issue, dated 2012 A.D. on the reverse | Signature: One signature only, titled गभर्नर (Governor) | Security: Devanagari serial number, letter-and-number prefix, printed twice on the face; blank arched watermark panel at right #### ₨100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-100/ The artwork, front: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev at left, in a high-collared uniform and the plumed royal crown, spectacled and moustached. The centre carries the issuer's name in Devanagari, the government guarantee clause, and "रूपैयाँ एक शय" over a range of snow peaks tinted mauve. To the right rises the five-tiered Nyatapola temple at Bhaktapur, its stone stair flanked by paired guardians; below, a seated deity and twin serial numbers in Devanagari. The artwork, back: A greater one-horned rhinoceros walks left through tall elephant grass, head lowered, the Chitwan lowlands rendered in fine engraved line. Upper right, the old royal arms of Nepal: crown and crossed kukris, Everest, cow and pheasant, and the two soldiers as supporters. Lower left, the bank's circular seal with its Sanskrit motto, the value as १०० and 100, and "RUPEES ONE HUNDRED" in English. In circulation: A Nepal Rastra Bank issue of King Birendra's reign, in hand through the 1980s and 1990s alongside the smaller green and brown denominations. Notes of this type were overtaken after 2001 by the Gyanendra portrait series, and the royal portrait left the currency altogether from 2007, replaced by designs headed by Everest. Details: Issuer: श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक — Nepal Rastra Bank, under the guarantee of His Majesty's Government | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev in plumed crown; rhinoceros reverse | Watermark: Plumed royal crown | Signature: One signature only, that of the Governor (गभर्नर) #### ₨100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-100-everest/ The artwork, front: Mount Everest fills the left panel, its snow ridges engraved in fine line — the peak that replaced the king's portrait on Nepalese notes after 1990s-era designs gave way to the republic. Centre right, the Nepali text of Nepal Rastra Bank and the promise to pay one hundred rupees, above the Governor's signature. Below, the Ashoka pillar and the line "LUMBINI — THE BIRTH PLACE OF LORD BUDDHA", with a foil oval showing the nativity scene. The artwork, back: A greater one-horned rhinoceros walks left through tall elephant grass, head lowered, the armour-plated hide rendered in dense engraving — the Chitwan animal that has stood on Nepal's hundred-rupee note for decades. "NEPAL RASTRA BANK" runs along a decorated cornice above; below, the bank's circular seal, the value in Devanagari numerals and "RUPEES ONE HUNDRED", with the date 2012 A.D. at the foot. , matthe note's Nepali date वि.सं. २०६९. In circulation: Dated 2069 in the Nepali era (2012 AD), this belongs to the post-monarchy series in which Mount Everest took the place of the royal portrait. It circulated widely through the 2010s alongside later-dated printings of the same design, before a revised hundred-rupee layout followed. Still legal tender. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक) | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Everest series; dated वि.सं. २०६९ / 2012 A.D. | Security: Windowed security thread; foil patch depicting the Buddha's birth at Lumbini; watermark window at right | Signature: Governor (गभर्नर), Nepal Rastra Bank #### ₨100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-100-king/ The artwork, front: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev in the plumed Shripech, the royal crown with its spray of bird-of-paradise feathers, worn over spectacles and a decorated uniform tunic. Behind him a Himalayan skyline; to the right a multi-tiered pagoda temple of the Kathmandu Valley on its stepped plinth, framed by a carved torana. The Nepali legends read श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक and रूपैयाँ एक शय, with the guarantee of His Majesty's Government above. The artwork, back: A greater one-horned rhinoceros, the Chitwan animal, walking through tall elephant grass — a long-standing motif on Nepali hundreds. Top right, the old royal coat of arms with crossed khukuri and kirti, mountains, cow and Gurkha supporters. Lower left, the Nepal Rastra Bank seal with Garuda; the value appears as १०० in Devanagari, as 100, and spelled out in English as RUPEES ONE HUNDRED. In circulation: The crowned-portrait hundred belongs to the royal issues of the 1980s and 1990s, printed in quantity and heavily used. Later hundreds moved the king into a Nepali dhaka topi, and after the monarchy ended the portrait was dropped altogether in favour of Mount Everest, leaving the rhinoceros on the back. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक) | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: King Birendra in the plumed royal crown; rhinoceros reverse | Security: Printed guarantee of His Majesty's Government — श्री ५ को सरकारको जमानत प्राप्त | Signature: Governor (गभर्नर), single signature at centre #### ₨500 — Five Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-500/ In circulation: Came home from the Nepal journeys of 1993–2014 — one of 15 Nepal notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 #### ₨500 — Five Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-500-everest/ The artwork, front: Mount Everest fills the left panel in engraved grey — the mountain that replaced the king's portrait on Nepali money after 1958 BS-style royal issues ended. The Devanagari legends read श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक above the promise to pay रुपैयाँ पाँच सय, five hundred rupees, over a golden hill landscape with monastery buildings. A metallic oval patch sits at centre, the Governor's signature (गर्भनर) beneath the text, and the serial in Devanagari numerals with a घ prefix. The artwork, back: Two tigers padding down to water, heads lowered to drink, engraved in warm brown against a pale wash — Nepal's Bengal tigers of the Terai lowlands. NEPAL RASTRA BANK arches above, RUPEES FIVE HUNDRED below, with 2012 A.D. spelled out beneath. At left, the bank's seal carrying the motto असतोमा सद्गमय; at right, 500 set in a deep green guilloche rosette. Temple pillars and cornice frame the whole panel. In circulation: The Everest design replaced royal portraiture on Nepali notes after the monarchy was abolished, and 500-rupee notes of this pattern circulated through the 2010s in successive dated printings, of which this is the 2012 issue. Later 500s carry revised backs and the updated map of Nepal, but notes of this type remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: Nepal Rastra Bank (श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक), guaranteed by the Government of Nepal | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Everest type, dated 2012 A.D. on the reverse | Signature: Governor, Nepal Rastra Bank | Watermark: Mount Everest, in the blank panel at right of the face | Security: Metallic foil patch at the centre of the face; vertical thread through the text panel #### ₨500 — Five Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/nepal-500-king/ The artwork, front: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev at left, in military tunic and spectacles beneath the plumed Nepalese royal crown. The centre panel carries the bank's name in Devanagari, the line declaring the note guaranteed by His Majesty's Government, and the value as रूपयाँ पाँच शय. Behind it a Himalayan peak rises over tiered temple roofs, with a seated crowned goddess figure below and the Governor's signature over his printed title. The artwork, back: Two tigers at the water's edge, one stooping to drink, worked in fine engraved line across the centre with रूपयाँ पाँच शय above and RUPEES FIVE HUNDRED on the band below. Top right sits the old royal coat of arms — crossed khukuris, Pashupati footprints, sun and moon, flanking Gurkha soldiers. A temple-strut border frames the left, with the bank's roundel seal and 500 in numerals at each end. In circulation: A Birendra-era design, current through the 1980s and 1990s and into the early 2000s. After the 2001 palace killings the 500 was reissued with King Gyanendra's portrait; the monarchy's abolition in 2008 removed royal portraits altogether, the king's head giving way to Mount Everest on Nepal Rastra Bank's later notes. Details: Issuer: श्री नेपाल राष्ट्र बैंक — Nepal Rastra Bank, the note declared guaranteed by His Majesty's Government | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Nepal journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev, crowned and in uniform | Signature: A single signature over the printed title गभर्नर (Governor) | Watermark: Plumed royal crown, in the blank guilloche panel at right ### Netherlands — 3 notes (Guilder) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/netherlands/ #### ƒ10 — Ten Guilders URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/netherlands-10-1968/ The artwork, front: Frans Hals, the Haarlem portraitist, in broad-brimmed hat and falling collar, his name set vertically in small caps at the right edge — a portrait built entirely from engraved concentric rings and wave-lines rather than conventional shading. To the left, the place and date of issue, "amsterdam 25 april 1968", above the signatures of the secretaris and the president, over a field of interlocking rosette guilloche. Below: de nederlandsche bank, TIEN GULDEN, with large 10s at the upper left and lower right. The artwork, back: No vignette at all — pure abstraction, unusual for its date. A fan of ruled lines sweeps into a great lobed arc with a solid ellipse at its centre, and beneath it a second broad arc filled with a woven lozenge net. Boxed panels at the left carry the ten-digit serial and a block of counterfeiting text from artikel 208 of the wetboek van strafrecht, set in diminishing type. Signed R.D.E. Oxenaar in the lower margin. In circulation: The Frans Hals ten circulated as everyday Dutch money from the late 1960s through the 1980s, gradually giving way to the newer Oxenaar designs and finally to the 1997 kingfisher ten-guilder note. The guilder itself was retired when euro cash arrived in January 2002. Details: Currency: Guilder (ƒ) | Denomination: Ten Guilders | Collected: on the Netherlands journey, 2026 | Issuer: De Nederlandsche Bank | Series: Dated Amsterdam, 25 April 1968 — Frans Hals type, designed by R.D.E. Oxenaar | Printer: Joh. Enschedé en Zonen, Haarlem | Signature: Two: secretaris and president | Security: Ten-digit serial printed twice on the back; microtext of penal code artikel 208 in the left-hand panel #### ƒ10 — Ten Guilders URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/netherlands-10-1997/ The artwork, front: No portrait at all — Jaap Drupsteen's design is pure geometry and colour: banded chevrons in blue, grey and orange, a starburst rosette, and a huge purple 10 over 'NLG'. The named subject is the kingfisher, 'IJSVOGEL — ALCEDO ATTHIS ISPIDA', which appears in the watermark area rather than as a picture. A roundel at upper left holds half a stickleback, 'STEKELBAARS'. Below: TIEN GULDEN, and the warning that forgers will be punished. The artwork, back: The same restless abstraction, ranks of arrow-forms crossed by ribbons of red, ochre and slate. The serial number is set as a barcode with the digits printed beneath it, a very un-Dutch flourish for 1997. At right, the matching half of the stickleback roundel; at left, a pale cloud-shaped panel carrying microprinted text and instructions on checking the note against the light. Signed J. T. G. Drupsteen as designer. In circulation: Issued from 1 July 1997, the last design put into circulation before the guilder gave way to the euro. It circulated barely four and a half years: euro notes and coins arrived on 1 January 2002 and guilder notes lost legal tender status the same month, though De Nederlandsche Bank still exchanges them. Details: Currency: Guilder (ƒ) | Denomination: Ten Guilders | Collected: on the Netherlands journey, 2026 | Issuer: De Nederlandsche Bank, Amsterdam | Series: Dated 1 Juli 1997; design by J. T. G. Drupsteen | Printer: Joh. Enschedé en Zonen | Watermark: Kingfisher, with light and dark areas, as described in the note's own text panel | Security: See-through register forming a stickleback; raised, feelable ink on the face; microprinting beside the watermark; barcode serial number | Signature: President and Secretaris #### ƒ25 — 25 Guilder URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/netherlands-25/ The artwork, front: No portrait at all — a break with Dutch tradition. Instead a purely abstract composition in salmon, red and turquoise: fanned bands, dot screens and honeycomb patterns behind a huge outlined 25. Circular motifs at upper left and lower right carry a crocus and a tulip, each labelled. "ROODBORSTJE" runs vertically at centre. Amsterdam 5 April 1989, signed by the President and the Secretaris, with the warning that forgers will be punished. The artwork, back: The same abstract vocabulary, looser: overlapping red, mint and pale blue planes, arcs of fine line-work and fields of raised dots. A curved text panel lists the note's authenticity features, beginning with the robin in the watermark. Two more crocus and tulip roundels, a barcode with the serial 2280046798, and along the edges the credits of designer J.T.G. Drupsteen and printer Joh. Enschedé en Zonen. In circulation: Dated 5 April 1989 and issued from that year, this was the last Dutch 25-gulden note. It circulated through the 1990s until guilder notes lost legal tender status on 28 January 2002 with the arrival of euro cash; there is no euro equivalent of the 25 denomination. Details: Currency: Guilder (ƒ) | Denomination: 25 Guilder | Collected: on the Netherlands journey, 2026 | Issuer: De Nederlandsche Bank | Series: 1989 "Roodborstje" (robin), dated Amsterdam 5 April 1989; designed by J.T.G. Drupsteen | Printer: Joh. Enschedé en Zonen, Haarlem | Watermark: A robin, cited on the back as the first of the note's authenticity features | Security: Raised dot patterns for the blind and partially sighted; printed list of authenticity features | Signature: President and Secretaris ### New Zealand — 1 note (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/newzealand/ #### $5 — Five Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/newzealand-5/ The artwork, front: Sir Edmund Hillary in three-quarter view, jacket collar up, rendered in warm red-brown intaglio. Behind him at left, the snow face of Aoraki/Mount Cook set in a pale blue panel, and lower down a small Ferguson tractor of the sort he drove to the South Pole. "RESERVE BANK OF NEW ZEALAND" runs across the top; below, "THIS NOTE IS LEGAL TENDER FOR FIVE DOLLARS". Serial AL 836180 reads twice, horizontally and vertically. The artwork, back: A hoiho — the yellow-eyed penguin, named in te reo beneath the vignette — stands on tussock in a sub-Antarctic island setting, its yellow eye-band picked out against slate-blue plumage. To the right, the yellow flower-spikes of Ross lily rise among strap leaves; at lower left, the ribbed leaves and pale blooms of a Campbell Island daisy. Large red 5s at either corner, with the printer's imprint along the foot. In circulation: The paper Series 6 five-dollar note, introduced in 1992 with Hillary replacing the Queen on the lowest denomination. It circulated through the 1990s until polymer replaced it: the $5 was the first New Zealand note issued on plastic, from May 1999, keeping the same Hillary and hoiho design. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of New Zealand | Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Five Dollars | Collected: on the New Zealand journey, 1993 | Series: Series 6, paper issue (from 1992) | Signature: Donald T. Brash, Governor | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited ### Philippines — 5 notes (Piso) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/philippines/ #### ₱20 — Twenty Pisos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/philippines-20/ The artwork, front: Manuel L. Quezon in three-quarter profile, bow-tied and severe, the Commonwealth president credited with the 1935 push for Filipino as the national language — a line printed in small caps at lower left, above a crowd scene of that campaign. To the right, the arms of the Republic, the Bangko Sentral seal, and an engraving of Malacañan Palace. Above, in Tagalog: "Pinagpala ang bayan na ang Diyos ay ang Panginoon." The artwork, back: The Banaue Rice Terraces fill the right half, cut into the Ifugao hillsides and captioned as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. In front of them sits a palm civet, named as Paradoxurus hermaphroditus philippinensis — the animal whose droppings yield kape alamid. An outline map of the archipelago sits at left, with a woven Cordillera textile pattern running along the panels and up the right edge. In circulation: Part of the New Generation Currency series launched in December 2010, this dated 2014 printing carries the Aquino–Tetangco signature pair. The twenty was the workhorse note of the decade until the Bangko Sentral withdrew it from production in favour of the nickel-brass 20-piso coin released in December 2019. Details: Currency: Piso (₱) | Denomination: Twenty Pisos | Collected: on the Philippines journey, 2016 | Issuer: Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas | Series: New Generation Currency, dated 2014 | Signature: Benigno S. Aquino III, Pangulo ng Pilipinas; Amando M. Tetangco Jr, Tagapangasiwa ng Bangko Sentral | Dimensions: 160 × 66 mm #### ₱50 — Fifty Pisos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/philippines-50/ The artwork, front: Sergio Osmeña in three-quarter profile, the Cebuano who succeeded Quezon as president of the Commonwealth. Behind him, the coat of arms and the Bangko Sentral seal; below, soldiers wading ashore at the Leyte Landing of October 1944, with Osmeña among the returning party. At far left, a group portrait of the First National Assembly of 1907, which Osmeña served as Speaker. Titles and legends wholly in Filipino. The artwork, back: Taal Lake in Batangas, the caldera lake with Volcano Island rising from it, drawn in washes of red and rose. A shoal of maliputo (Caranx ignobilis), the lake's prized food fish, swims across the centre in pale grey, captioned in small italic. To the left, an outline map of the Philippines with the site marked, and along the right edge a band of Batangas embroidery pattern. In circulation: The New Generation Currency 50 dates from December 2010 and remains legal tender; this 2014-dated printing carries the Aquino–Tetangco signature pair, which ran until 2017, when a revised version with a new serial-number typeface and further enhancements took over. A polymer 50 joined the paper note in 2024. Details: Currency: Piso (₱) | Denomination: Fifty Pisos | Collected: on the Philippines journey, 2016 | Issuer: Republika ng Pilipinas — Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas | Series: New Generation Currency, dated 2014 | Signature: Benigno S. Aquino III, Pangulo ng Pilipinas; Amando M. Tetangco Jr, Tagapangasiwa ng Bangko Sentral | Printer: Security Plant Complex, Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas, Quezon City | Dimensions: 160 × 66 mm | Security: Serial XA 375674, printed twice in orange-to-red graduated ink; scriptural motto panel above the arms #### ₱100 — One Hundred Pisos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/philippines-100/ The artwork, front: Manuel A. Roxas, first president of the independent Third Republic, in a three-quarter view engraved in fine line. Behind him at the left, the Central Bank of the Philippines building of 1949; along the lower edge, the legend for the inauguration of the Third Republic, 4 July 1946. Upper right, the arms of the Republic and the blue seal of the Bangko Sentral, with the Tagalog text panel and the motto beneath the issuer's name. The artwork, back: Mayon Volcano in Albay, drawn as the near-perfect cone it is, rising behind a whale shark — labelled Whale Shark, Rhincodon typus — swimming across the foreground, the species that draws visitors to Donsol. To the left, an outline map of the archipelago; down the right-hand edge, a band of Bicol weaving pattern. The value appears as 100 and, spelled out, SANDAANG PISO. In circulation: The design belongs to the New Generation Currency family launched in December 2010, which displaced the long-running New Design series (demonetised at the end of 2017). This 2014 printing carries the original, softer mauve; from 2016 the hundred was reissued in a stronger violet after complaints that it was too easily taken for the thousand. Details: Currency: Piso (₱) | Denomination: One Hundred Pisos | Collected: on the Philippines journey, 2016 | Issuer: Republika ng Pilipinas / Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas | Series: New Generation Currency, dated 2014 | Signature: Benigno S. Aquino III (Pangulo ng Pilipinas) and Amando M. Tetangco Jr (Tagapangasiwa ng Bangko Sentral) | Security: Windowed segmented metallic thread through the centre of the face; serial ZK 394307 in ascending figures | Dimensions: 160 × 66 mm #### ₱500 — Five Hundred Pisos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/philippines-500/ The artwork, front: Corazon C. Aquino and her husband Benigno S. Aquino Jr, side by side and smiling, engraved in warm brown over a yellow ground. Between them the arms of the Republic and the seal of the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas; below, in red, the Benigno S. Aquino Jr Monument. A line at lower left records EDSA People Power I, February 1986, and the motto reads "Pinagpala ang bayan na ang Diyos ay ang Panginoon". The artwork, back: The limestone cliffs and cave mouth of the Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park on Palawan fill the right-hand side, titled in flowing script. A blue-naped parrot, Tanygnathus lucionensis, perches at centre in green and turquoise, with a second smaller bird at left beside an outline map of the archipelago. A woven textile pattern runs down the right edge over repeated 500 numerals. In circulation: The New Generation Currency 500-piso design has been in issue since December 2010; this example is dated 2015 and carries the Aquino III–Tetangco signature pair, so it belongs to the later years of that administration. Subsequent printings kept the same artwork under new presidential and governor signatures, and polymer notes have since joined the paper series. Details: Currency: Piso (₱) | Denomination: Five Hundred Pisos | Collected: on the Philippines journey, 2016 | Issuer: Republika ng Pilipinas / Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas | Series: New Generation Currency, dated 2015 | Signature: Benigno S. Aquino III, Pangulo ng Pilipinas; Amando M. Tetangco Jr, Tagapangasiwa ng Bangko Sentral | Security: Windowed security thread and an optically variable patch bearing the figure 500 at lower left | Dimensions: 160 × 66 mm #### ₱1000 — One Thousand Pisos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/philippines-1000/ The artwork, front: Three martyrs of the Second World War: Jose Abad Santos, Chief Justice shot for refusing to co-operate with the occupiers; Josefa Llanes Escoda, founder of the Girl Scouts of the Philippines; and Brigadier General Vicente Lim, defender of Bataan. Behind them the national coat of arms, the Bangko Sentral seal, and the Medal of Honor, with the 1998 Centennial of Philippine Independence commemoration running along the lower edge. The artwork, back: Tubbataha Reefs Natural Park in the Sulu Sea, named as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, rendered as a wall of reef life: lionfish, anthias, a ray gliding through the blue, and brain coral in the shallows. Centre stage is a South Sea pearl in its opened shell, Pinctada maxima, the species farmed in Palawan waters. An outline map of the archipelago fills the left field. In circulation: The New Generation Currency series, introduced in December 2010 to replace the long-running English series design that had carried the same three martyrs since 1991. This example carries the 2015 date. The design remained in issue, later joined by a polymer 1000-piso note bearing the Philippine eagle from 2022. Details: Currency: Piso (₱) | Denomination: One Thousand Pisos | Collected: on the Philippines journey, 2016 | Issuer: Republika ng Pilipinas — Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas | Series: New Generation Currency, dated 2015 | Signature: Benigno S. Aquino III, Pangulo ng Pilipinas; Amando M. Tetangco Jr, Tagapangasiwa ng Bangko Sentral | Security: Colour-shifting optical patch at left, embedded segmented security thread, denomination in intaglio ### Portugal — 5 notes (Escudo) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/portugal/ #### Esc500 — Five Hundred Escudos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/portugal-500/ The artwork, front: João de Barros in profile at the right, bearded and in sixteenth-century dress, printed in deep wine red with his dates, 1496–1570, set vertically beside him. To the left, a hemispherical world map with the Portuguese shield laid over it and two small figures below, over a ground of repeated microtext. A gold vertical panel carries the value 500; the plate mark reads CH-13. The artwork, back: A Portuguese party in the East: soldiers with pike and helmet, a robed figure with a book, an elephant and its keeper to the left, and a great gilded compass rose with an armillary globe at its centre. Along the foot, in Barros's own words, "dos feitos que os Portugueses fizeram no descobrimento e conquista dos mares e terras do Oriente". In circulation: The last 500-escudo design, issued from the mid-1990s and dated here 17 April 1997. It circulated until the euro replaced the escudo in cash on 1 January 2002, at 200.482 escudos to the euro, after which Banco de Portugal exchanged the notes over a long redemption window. Details: Issuer: Banco de Portugal | Currency: Escudo (Esc) | Denomination: Five Hundred Escudos | Collected: on the Portugal journey, 1998 | Series: Chapa 13 (CH-13), dated Lisboa, 17 de Abril de 1997 | Signature: O Governador and O Administrador | Security: See-through register device, printed red at the lower left of the face and lower right of the back #### Esc1000 — One Thousand Escudos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/portugal-1000/ In circulation: Came home from the Portugal journey of 1998 — one of 5 Portugal notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Banco de Portugal | Currency: Escudo (Esc) | Denomination: One Thousand Escudos | Collected: on the Portugal journey, 1998 #### Esc1000 — One Thousand Escudos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/portugal-1000-1994/ The artwork, front: Teófilo Braga (1843–1924), writer, republican polemicist and first President of the Portuguese Republic, engraved in three-quarter profile with his dates beside him. Behind him a Romanesque carved capital rises in pale green, and the small crowned shield of Portugal sits top left. "Banco de Portugal" and "1000 MIL ESCUDOS" in deep wine red, with chapa 12, the Lisbon date of 3 March 1994, and signatures for Governor and Administrator. The artwork, back: The Romanesque capital again, this time given the whole stage: a winged siren flanked by a bird, its carved faces blunt and staring, credited in small type to the Museu Machado de Castro in Coimbra. To the left a circular device spells PORTUGAL around a cross; to the right, a second stone-carved scene washed in blue and gold. Star-and-cross tilework fills the field. In circulation: One of the last escudo designs, dated here to March 1994 and circulating through the decade alongside the 1996 Pedro Álvares Cabral thousand. The escudo gave way to the euro in 2002, after which notes of this kind left tills for good and could only be exchanged at Banco de Portugal counters. Details: Issuer: Banco de Portugal | Currency: Escudo (Esc) | Denomination: One Thousand Escudos | Collected: on the Portugal journey, 1998 | Series: Chapa 12, dated Lisboa, 3 de Março de 1994 | Signature: Two: O Governador and O Administrador #### Esc1000 — One Thousand Escudos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/portugal-1000-1996/ The artwork, front: Pedro Álvares Cabral in profile, helmeted and bearded, printed in deep violet against a gold ground of Manueline rope-work, armillary spheres and crosses of the Order of Christ. Fine vertical lettering beside him reads PEDRO ÁLVARES CABRAL and BRASIL 1500. The gothic heading is banco de Portugal, with LISBOA 31 DE OUTUBRO DE 1996 above the Governor's and Vice-Governor's signatures, and a broad brown 1000 panel at the left. The artwork, back: A violet carrack under full sail stands off a coast lettered TERRA BRASILIS, drawn in the manner of a sixteenth-century illuminated map: macaws and parrots perched among fronds, a jaguar and a monkey below, and an armorial shield to the right. Along the foot runs Pêro Vaz de Caminha's line about seeing nothing but land and trees, land that seemed to us very extensive. In circulation: Introduced in 1996 as part of the Banco de Portugal's last escudo family, marking the Discoveries, and printed with later dates into the closing years of the decade. It circulated until the euro replaced the escudo in cash on 1 January 2002, the notes losing legal tender status that February. Details: Issuer: Banco de Portugal | Currency: Escudo (Esc) | Denomination: One Thousand Escudos | Collected: on the Portugal journey, 1998 | Series: Chapa 13, dated Lisboa 31 de Outubro de 1996 | Signature: O Governador and O Vice-Governador #### Esc1000 — One Thousand Escudos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/portugal-1000-new/ In circulation: Came home from the Portugal journey of 1998 — one of 5 Portugal notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Banco de Portugal | Currency: Escudo (Esc) | Denomination: One Thousand Escudos | Collected: on the Portugal journey, 1998 ### Russia — 5 notes (Ruble) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/russia/ #### ₽100 — One Hundred Rubles URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/russia-100/ The artwork, front: Across the left half, a framed vignette of a Kremlin tower with the Russian tricolour flying above the dome of the Senate Palace — the flag reinstated as the state flag only two years before this date. The rest of the field is given over to a vast shaded "100" with "СТО РУБЛЕЙ" beneath it, "БАНК РОССИИ" above, an ornate interlaced monogram top right and "1993" in a rosette. The artwork, back: The classic Moscow Kremlin panorama seen from Red Square, set in a scalloped cartouche: the Senate Palace with its green dome and colonnade at the left, the wall and its towers running right to the tented Spasskaya Tower with its star and clock. "СТО РУБЛЕЙ" sits on a guilloche band below, flanked by shadowed 100s, with the red serial Ис 1117902 at the left. In circulation: Part of the first properly Russian series, issued in 1993 to replace the last Soviet-style rouble notes. Inflation quickly overtook it: higher values up to 50,000 roubles followed within two years, and the whole family was retired by the 1998 redenomination, when one new rouble bought a thousand of these. Details: Issuer: Банк России (Bank of Russia) | Currency: Ruble (₽) | Denomination: One Hundred Rubles | Collected: on the Russia journey, 1997 | Series: 1993 issue, dated 1993 on the face | Security: Printed warning on the back: counterfeiting Bank of Russia notes is prosecuted by law #### ₽500 — Five Hundred Rubles URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/russia-500/ The artwork, front: A pale green and rust-brown composition looking across the Moscow Kremlin: the columned Senate Palace with its flagstaff, the tented Spasskaya Tower rising behind, and a stand of firs in the foreground. The right two-thirds is given over to a heavy ornamental cartouche carrying "500" over "ПЯТЬСОТ РУБЛЕЙ", above a panel of microprinted denominations. Top left, the warning that forging Bank of Russia notes is punishable by law. Red serial with a Cyrillic two-letter prefix, Тч. The artwork, back: "БАНК РОССИИ" runs along the top, with the interlaced Central Bank monogram in a scalloped rosette beneath it. At left, an octagonal frame holds the only colour on the note: a Kremlin wall tower and dome in violet, with two Russian tricolours flying against a blue sky and radiating sunburst. Large "500" and "ПЯТЬСОТ РУБЛЕЙ" at centre; the year 1993 printed small in blue at right. In circulation: Part of the 1993 family issued after that summer's currency reform swept away the remaining Soviet-era paper. Inflation quickly made it small change: the 1995 series carried the burden at the top end, and the redenomination of 1 January 1998 retired these notes altogether, the name passing to the 1997 Arkhangelsk 500 roubles at a thousandth of the face. Details: Issuer: Банк России (Bank of Russia) | Currency: Ruble (₽) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rubles | Collected: on the Russia journey, 1997 | Series: 1993 | Security: Microprinted denomination panel on the face; statutory counterfeiting warning printed top left #### ₽1000 — One Thousand Rubles URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/russia-1000/ The artwork, front: A monumental sail rises from a granite plinth inside a shaped frame — the memorial to the fighters for Soviet power in the Far East, which stands on the main square of Vladivostok. Behind it, the working harbour: quays, gantry cranes, moored ships and the hills of the city stacked above the water. "БИЛЕТ БАНКА РОССИИ" across the top, the double-headed eagle of the Bank of Russia at the upper left, and the city named in a small cartouche: ВЛАДИВОСТОК. The artwork, back: Sea stacks off the Pacific coast near Vladivostok, engraved in fine line: two weathered pillars of rock standing out of calm water, with a headland behind carrying a small light, and a steamer passing on the horizon. The wash of pale green and rose behind the rock suggests early light. Denomination in the corners, ТЫСЯЧА РУБЛЕЙ along the foot, and the date 1995 at the lower right. In circulation: Part of the 1995 "cities" series, in which each denomination carried a Russian town. It circulated until the redenomination of 1 January 1998, when a thousand old roubles became one new one; the design was withdrawn and no 1000-rouble note existed again until the Yaroslavl note of 2001. Details: Issuer: Bank of Russia — "Билет Банка России", with the double-headed eagle seal | Currency: Ruble (₽) | Denomination: One Thousand Rubles | Collected: on the Russia journey, 1997 | Series: 1995 "cities" series — Vladivostok; dated 1995 on the reverse | Printer: Goznak | Signature: None; the 1995 series carries no signatures | Security: Serial number twice, red at the left and green at the right, prefix АБ; guilloche band with a warning text that forgery is punishable by law #### ₽5000 — Five Thousand Rubles URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/russia-5000/ The artwork, front: The Millennium of Russia monument, unveiled in Novgorod in 1862, rises in dark green ink: the crowned figure with cross and orb atop the globe, the ring of statesmen and saints below, the frieze-wrapped granite drum. Behind it stands the Cathedral of St Sophia with its helmet domes. Top left, the Bank of Russia's double-headed eagle; across the top, БИЛЕТ БАНКА РОССИИ, with ПЯТЬ ТЫСЯЧ РУБЛЕЙ below. Serial ЗВ 8545711 twice, red and green. The artwork, back: The walls and towers of the Novgorod Kremlin, the Detinets, seen along the earthen bank above the Volkhov — tiled pitched-roof towers, a run of crenellated brick curtain wall, heavy trees and a flight of steps up to the nearest tower. A small ornamental cartouche reads Новгород. Large 5000 numerals top left, top right and centre right; ПЯТЬ ТЫСЯЧ РУБЛЕЙ across the foot, and the year 1995 at bottom right. In circulation: Issued in 1995 as part of the last pre-reform family of Bank of Russia notes, and current until the redenomination of 1 January 1998, when a thousand old roubles became one new one. The same Novgorod scenes carried straight over to the 5-rouble note of the 1997 series. Details: Issuer: Bank of Russia — printed БИЛЕТ БАНКА РОССИИ, with the bank's double-headed eagle emblem | Currency: Ruble (₽) | Denomination: Five Thousand Rubles | Collected: on the Russia journey, 1997 | Series: 1995, dated on the back | Security: Raised tactile marks at lower left for the visually impaired, beside the warning that counterfeiting Bank of Russia notes is prosecuted by law | Serial: Two Cyrillic letters and seven digits, printed twice — red at left, green at right #### ₽10000 — Ten Thousand Rubles URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/russia-10000/ The artwork, front: The heading reads БИЛЕТ БАНКА РОССИИ, with the Bank of Russia's double-headed eagle at upper left. The vignette looks across the Yenisei at Krasnoyarsk: the long arched Kommunalny Bridge, a river steamer, the industrial skyline behind. Standing proud of it on the guilloche panel is the little tent-roofed Chapel of Paraskeva Pyatnitsa on Karaulnaya Hill, the city's emblem. Below, КРАСНОЯРСК and ДЕСЯТЬ ТЫСЯЧ РУБЛЕЙ. The artwork, back: The Krasnoyarsk hydroelectric dam on the Yenisei, seen downstream from a wooded bank with birch and fir framing the view — the great curved wall of the spillway, the powerhouse and switchyard strung along the water. Denomination in numerals three times and spelt out along the foot, with the year 1995 in the lower right corner in red. In circulation: Issued in the 1995 series, the last rouble notes before redenomination. It circulated until the 1998 reform struck three zeros from the currency; the same Krasnoyarsk design reappeared, essentially unchanged, as the 10-rouble note of the 1997 series, and the old 10,000 was exchanged at 1,000 to one. Details: Issuer: Bank of Russia — printed as БИЛЕТ БАНКА РОССИИ | Currency: Ruble (₽) | Denomination: Ten Thousand Rubles | Collected: on the Russia journey, 1997 | Series: 1995, dated on the reverse | Security: Two-letter Cyrillic serial prefix, printed twice — red at left, green at right; raised tactile marks and warning text for counterfeiting at lower left ### Singapore — 6 notes (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/singapore/ #### $1 — One Dollar URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/singapore-1/ The artwork, front: The state arms of Singapore — lion and tiger flanking the crescent and five stars, on the ribbon MAJULAH SINGAPURA — sit above a large $1 rosette. The centre is given to a sha chuan, the high-sterned Chinese junk, under full sail and named on a small scroll. The country is set out in four scripts: SINGAPURA, Chinese, Tamil and SINGAPORE, with "This note is legal tender" and a stylised fish at lower right. The artwork, back: All in blue: a spray of orchids on a fine guilloche ground at the left, and to the right the great dish of the Sentosa Satellite Earth Station, labelled as such, its lattice antenna tilted to the sky above the trees and a circular apron of paving. Denomination boxes top left and lower right; the printer's imprint runs along the foot. In circulation: The Ship series carried Singapore's notes from 1984 until the Portrait series arrived in 1999. The dollar was the smallest note of the set, and it had no successor: the new series began at two dollars, the one-dollar coin having taken over the role. Ship notes remain legal tender. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: One Dollar | Collected: on the Singapore journeys, 1993–2005 | Issuer: Board of Commissioners of Currency, Singapore | Series: Ship series (1984–1999); sha chuan junk | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited | Watermark: Lion's head | Signature: Chairman, Board of Commissioners of Currency, Singapore | Dimensions: 125 × 63 mm #### $2 — Two Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/singapore-2/ The artwork, front: Yusof bin Ishak, Singapore's first President, in three-quarter profile at the right, engraved in violet with his signature beneath. At the upper left the state arms with the motto Majulah Singapura; the country's name runs across the top in Malay, Chinese, Tamil and English. A large ornamented 2 sits at centre, above THIS NOTE IS LEGAL TENDER and TWO DOLLARS, with a foil patch and the chairman's signature and red seal below. The artwork, back: The education theme, in the same violet. A long colonnaded neoclassical block — the old Raffles Institution — fills the left and centre, with a smaller pedimented schoolhouse and a flame tree to the right. In front, a packed gathering of students of several communities listens to a teacher gesturing from the left; a girl at a desk takes notes. SINGAPORE arches overhead, EDUCATION printed below. In circulation: The paper Portrait series $2 first appeared in 1999 and circulated widely through the following decade. A polymer $2 in the same design was introduced in 2006 and gradually displaced the paper printing, and the Board of Commissioners of Currency signature here was superseded when currency functions passed to the Monetary Authority of Singapore in 2002. Still legal tender. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Two Dollars | Collected: on the Singapore journeys, 1993–2005 | Issuer: Board of Commissioners of Currency, Singapore | Series: Portrait series, $2 (paper issue) | Signature: Hu Tsu Tau, Chairman, Board of Commissioners of Currency, Singapore | Security: Windowed security thread, foil patch on the face, embossed dot cluster at the upper right for the visually impaired | Dimensions: 126 × 63 mm #### $2 — Two Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/singapore-2-05/ In circulation: Came home from the Singapore journeys of 1993–2005 — one of 6 Singapore notes in the collection. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Two Dollars | Collected: on the Singapore journeys, 1993–2005 #### $2 — Two Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/singapore-2-old/ The artwork, front: Mauve and rose, with a tongkang under full sail — the twin-masted lighter that once worked the Singapore River, named in small capitals at the left. A pale sun sits behind it and gulls scatter over the water; smaller craft crowd the foreground. Top left, the state arms with lion and tiger and the motto Majulah Singapura; the country's name runs in Malay, Chinese, Tamil and English. Serial LU 982616, vertical and horizontal, and the Minister for Finance's signature beside "This note is legal tender". The artwork, back: A Chingay procession in fine line engraving: a dragon's head reared over the crowd, its bearer straining at the pole, a pearl-bearer lunging beneath, flag-carriers, drummers and costumed troupes in songkok and headdress, with feathered fans and firework bursts filling the right. A spray of orchids occupies the panel at lower left, the $2 in outline above it, and the printer's imprint runs along the bottom edge. In circulation: Part of the Ship Series, Singapore's third set of notes, which ran from 1984 until the end of the 1990s; the $2 was a later addition to the family. It gave way to the Portrait Series $2, bearing Yusof bin Ishak, issued in 1999. Ship notes were withdrawn from issue but remain legal tender. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Two Dollars | Collected: on the Singapore journeys, 1993–2005 | Issuer: Board of Commissioners of Currency, Singapore | Series: Ship Series (third series) | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited, imprinted on the back | Signature: Hu Tsu Tau (Richard Hu), Minister for Finance, with his Chinese seal | Watermark: Lion's head #### $10 — Ten Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/singapore-10/ The artwork, front: Yusof bin Ishak, Singapore's first President, engraved in red with the collar of his shirt cut sharp against the guilloche — the portrait that gives this whole family of notes its name. The country is named in all four official languages across the top: Singapura, 新加坡, சிங்கப்பூர், Singapore. At left, the state coat of arms with its lion and tiger and the motto Majulah Singapura sits in a clear window; two raised dots at the top right mark the value by touch. The artwork, back: A sports tableau: a woman running, a badminton player reaching for a smash, a footballer striking the ball, and behind them a sailor hard over in a dinghy and a swimmer mid-stroke through the spray. The theme is spelled out simply — SPORTS — in small capitals at the lower left. A stylised lion's head, Singapore's national symbol, sits beside the numeral 10, whose zero is drawn as a football. In circulation: The Portrait Series arrived in 1999 to replace the Ship Series, and the ten dollars moved from paper to polymer in 2004 — this is that polymer note. It remains legal tender and in everyday circulation, still the workhorse denomination alongside the two and fifty dollar notes. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Ten Dollars | Collected: on the Singapore journeys, 1993–2005 | Issuer: Monetary Authority of Singapore | Series: Portrait Series, polymer ten dollars | Signature: Chairman, Monetary Authority of Singapore | Security: Polymer substrate with two transparent windows, one carrying the state coat of arms; raised dots for the visually impaired; horizontal serial at upper right, vertical at lower left | Dimensions: 141 × 69 mm #### $100 — One Hundred Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/singapore-100/ The artwork, front: Yusof bin Ishak, Singapore's first President, in orange line engraving facing right — the head that fronts every note of this series. Left of him, the state arms with lion and tiger and the motto MAJULAH SINGAPURA; above, the country's name in Malay, Chinese, Tamil and English. A holographic patch sits beside the numeral, with the lion-head symbol and the Chairman's signature for the Monetary Authority of Singapore below. The artwork, back: The series gives each denomination a theme; this one is YOUTH, marked by the word and three stars in the corner. A cadet in peaked cap holds a flagstaff at centre; behind him an orange flag tower and a lashed timber pioneering structure with youngsters clambering over it. At left, three uniformed young faces — nurse, girl cadet, boy in beret. The lion-head symbol sits at right. In circulation: The Portrait series appeared in 1999, replacing the Ship series, and this hundred remains legal tender and in everyday use — the largest note still routinely printed since the thousand was discontinued. Later Portrait notes, like this one, carry the Monetary Authority of Singapore's Chairman rather than the old Board of Commissioners of Currency. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: One Hundred Dollars | Collected: on the Singapore journeys, 1993–2005 | Issuer: Monetary Authority of Singapore | Series: Portrait series, YOUTH theme | Signature: Chairman, Monetary Authority of Singapore | Security: Holographic patch beside the numeral; lion-head symbol front and back | Dimensions: 162 × 77 mm ### South Africa — 2 notes (Rand) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/southafrica/ #### R10 — Ten Rands URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/southafrica-10/ The artwork, front: A white rhinoceros fills the right half, head turned three-quarters towards the viewer, the front horn rising the full depth of the note; behind it, at left, a small bushveld vignette of rhino among thorn scrub. Between them sit two sunflower-head rosettes, and at lower right a faceted stone in warm brown. "SUID-AFRIKAANSE RESERWEBANK" above, "SOUTH AFRICAN RESERVE BANK" below, with TIEN RAND and TEN RAND set vertically in the margins. Serial EA9842960A in blue. The artwork, back: Farming, rendered in soft greens: a heavy-horned merino ram's head dominating the upper left, sunflowers in bloom beside it, and below a team of oxen drawing a plough past a wind pump, with a flat-topped hill closing the middle distance. A large white 10 stands in the centre of the field. The right-hand panel is left plain for the watermark, with a sunflower rosette carrying the figure 10. In circulation: Part of the "Big Five" animal series that carried South African currency through the 1990s and 2000s, the ten rand taking the white rhinoceros. This later printing bears Tito Mboweni's signature, so it dates from his governorship onward. A revised version of the same design followed in 2005, and in 2012 the Mandela portrait notes took over entirely. Details: Currency: Rand (R) | Denomination: Ten Rands | Collected: on the South Africa journey, 2003 | Issuer: South African Reserve Bank / Suid-Afrikaanse Reserwebank | Series: "Big Five" animal series — white rhinoceros | Signature: T.T. Mboweni, titled President / Governor | Watermark: White rhinoceros head, in the plain right-hand panel | Dimensions: 128 × 70 mm #### R20 — Twenty Rands URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/southafrica-20/ The artwork, front: An African elephant fills the right half, head turned three-quarters on, tusks and the deep creasing of the trunk cut in fine intaglio line; behind it a herd — two adults and a calf — walks out of the bush under a flat-topped acacia. The issuer is named across the top in English and along the bottom in Afrikaans, with TWENTY RAND and TWINTIG RAND running up the side margins. At lower left, the bank's device set inside a faceted brilliant-cut diamond, above the signature and the bilingual title President / Governor. The artwork, back: Mining, the other half of the country's wealth: a processing plant and headgear tower rise at the left, conveyors and gantries stretching across the middle, and a crane-barge works the water in the foreground. Three outlined brilliant-cut diamonds float across the upper field in purple, echoing the device on the face. A large white 20 sits at the right, with the issuer's name repeated top and bottom in English and Afrikaans. In circulation: The elephant twenty belongs to the "Big Five" family that replaced the Jan van Riebeeck notes in the early 1990s and carried South African money through the transition years. This later printing bears Governor Mboweni's signature, so it dates from 1999 onward. A revised series followed in 2005, and the Mandela portrait notes arrived in 2012. Details: Currency: Rand (R) | Denomination: Twenty Rands | Collected: on the South Africa journey, 2003 | Issuer: South African Reserve Bank / Suid-Afrikaanse Reserwebank | Series: "Big Five" — the elephant denomination | Signature: T.T. Mboweni, as President / Governor ### South Korea — 1 note (Won) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/southkorea/ #### ₩1000 — One Thousand Won URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/southkorea-1000/ The artwork, front: Yi Hwang (1501–1570), the Confucian scholar known by his pen name Toegye, in horsehair cap and plain robe, his dates set in small type beside the shoulder. Behind him a panel of stylised cloud, mountain and blossom in green and lilac, with the Bank's rosette and the red seal of the Governor struck over it. At left, a vessel holding bare branches. Denomination in Hangul as 천 원, with 한국은행권 above. The artwork, back: Dosan Seowon at Andong, the Confucian academy raised in Yi Hwang's memory beside the Nakdong river, drawn from above: lecture halls and gatehouses under heavy tiled roofs, courtyard walls, pines and dense hillside woodland, with the site named in small Hangul at the foot. English legends read THE BANK OF KOREA and 1000 WON, and the printer's line 한국조폐공사 제조 sits bottom left. In circulation: The second-series 1,000 won, in circulation from 1983 and the everyday small note of South Korea for more than two decades. It was superseded by the redesigned 1,000 won issued in January 2007, which keeps Yi Hwang but is smaller and differently coloured; the older notes were withdrawn while remaining legal tender. Details: Issuer: The Bank of Korea (한국은행) | Currency: Won (₩) | Denomination: One Thousand Won | Collected: on the South Korea journeys, 2005–2008 | Series: Second series 1,000 won, portrait of Yi Hwang | Printer: Korea Minting and Security Printing Corporation (한국조폐공사) | Signature: Red seal of the Governor of the Bank of Korea | Dimensions: 151 × 76 mm ### Spain — 1 note (Peseta) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/spain/ #### ₧1000 — One Thousand Pesetas URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/spain-1000/ The artwork, front: Hernán Cortés in a broad soft hat and pleated ruff, engraved in green and looking out to the right, his name lettered vertically at the edge. Behind him a faint globe with meridians and, in red, a figure copied from a pre-Columbian codex. A blue-and-green compass rose sits over the watermark panel, with MIL PESETAS above the large 1000 and the date line MADRID 12 DE OCTUBRE DE 1992. The artwork, back: Francisco Pizarro, named beneath, engraved in the same green with a fur-collared cloak and armour, holding a short staff. Above him a mariner's compass card marked with a red cross, set against latitude and longitude lines; upper right, a small crowned shield. At left, a plan of a colonial town printed in red. The field is filled with repeated microprinted BANCO DE ESPAÑA, and the marginal helmet and sword complete when held to light. In circulation: Dated 12 October 1992, the quincentenary of Columbus's landfall, and the last 1000-peseta note Spain issued. It served through the 1990s as the everyday large note until euro cash arrived on 1 January 2002; pesetas ceased to be legal tender that spring, though the Banco de España exchanged them for years afterwards. Details: Currency: Peseta (₧) | Denomination: One Thousand Pesetas | Collected: on the Spain journeys, 2019–2026 | Issuer: Banco de España | Series: Dated Madrid, 12 October 1992 | Printer: Fábrica Nacional de Moneda y Timbre, Madrid | Signature: Three: El Gobernador, El Interventor, El Cajero | Security: See-through helmet and sword in the margin; repeated microprinted BANCO DE ESPAÑA in the back field | Dimensions: 130 × 65 mm ### Sri Lanka — 6 notes (Rupee) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/srilanka/ #### ₨10 — Ten Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/srilanka-10/ The artwork, front: A carved stone lion sits four-square on its plinth at the right, mane rendered in ringed rows, jaws open — the old Sinhalese royal emblem in sculpture rather than heraldry. To the left, "Central Bank of Sri Lanka" with its Sinhala and Tamil equivalents above, then the value in Sinhala script over a lotus-medallion rosette, two signatures with their Sinhala titles, and the date 2004-04-10. Green and rose guilloche, serial M/383 403754. The artwork, back: Read sideways, as Sri Lankan notes of this era are. A framed panel at the left holds a spray of broad yellow blossoms with dark leaves and buds, flanked by TEN RUPEES in English and Tamil and the numeral 10. Behind it, in orange-brown line work, a long terraced building of many louvred windows and steps. "Central Bank of Sri Lanka" in three scripts, and a leafy bird vignette at the right.,, printed for circulation with the 1991 design.was, in Sinhala, Tamil and English..was. In circulation: The design dates from 1991 and was printed with successive dates into the mid-2000s, this one April 2004. When the Central Bank brought in its new series from 2010, the smallest note was 20 rupees: the ten-rupee note was left to wear out and its place taken by the ten-rupee coin. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Sri Lanka | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Ten Rupees | Collected: on the Sri Lanka journey, 2005 | Series: 1991 design series; dated 2004-04-10 | Signature: Two: Minister of Finance and Governor of the Central Bank, titled in Sinhala | Security: Fraction-style serial prefix M/383, repeated at upper left and lower right #### ₨20 — Twenty Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/srilanka-20/ The artwork, front: A Gurulu Raksha mask fills the right side — the garuda bird-demon of the low-country dance tradition, cobras coiled above its brow and a serpent gripped in the red beak, carved in the exaggerated style of Ambalangoda. To the left, a lotus bloom and a carved circular medallion sit under the trilingual heading: Sinhala across the top, then Tamil and "Central Bank of Sri Lanka", with the date 2001-12-12 between two signatures. The artwork, back: Two stilt fishermen perched on their poles in the shallows off the southern coast, rods angled over the water — a wholly Sri Lankan scene rendered in olive and pale green. At the left, a spiny murex shell drawn in fine intaglio line beside the vertical "TWENTY RUPEES" panel. The bank's name runs sideways in all three languages, with a large 20 in a rosette at the right. In circulation: Part of the series introduced in 1991, printed and dated in batches through the following fifteen years; this piece carries the December 2001 date. It stayed in everyday use until the Central Bank's 2010 "Development, Prosperity and Sri Lankan Dancers" family took over, though older notes were never demonetised. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Sri Lanka | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Twenty Rupees | Collected: on the Sri Lanka journey, 2005 | Series: 1991 mask and heritage series, dated 12 December 2001 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited | Signature: Two: the Minister of Finance (K. N. Choksy) and the Governor of the Central Bank #### ₨50 — Fifty Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/srilanka-50-k206/ The artwork, front: A Kandyan ves dancer in three-quarter profile, the beaded and studded headdress and heavy silver ear ornaments picked out in mauve against blue and green guilloche. The heading runs in Sinhala across the top, then Tamil and English — Central Bank of Sri Lanka — with the value spelled out in Sinhala below and repeated vertically in Tamil and English at the left. Two signatures over Sinhala titles, the date 2004-04-10, and the serial K/206 534557 twice. The artwork, back: Ceremonial regalia of the perahera: two long dragon-headed horns, all teeth, whiskers and pendant ornament, laid across a broad fan-shaped sesath whose disc is worked in concentric bands. Behind them, faint drums, a tree and a stupa in pale green and grey. The bilingual bank name sits upright in the right-hand third, with the 50 in an ornamental cartouche and yellow butterflies on leafy sprays along the edge band. In circulation: The design belongs to the series introduced in 1991 and reprinted through the 1990s and 2000s, this one dated 10 April 2004. It was superseded from 2010 by the Central Bank's "Development, Prosperity and Sri Lanka Dancers" series, whose blue 50 rupees now carries the denomination; the older notes drifted out of tills over the following years. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Sri Lanka | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Fifty Rupees | Collected: on the Sri Lanka journey, 2005 | Series: 1991 design; dated 10 April 2004 | Signature: Minister of Finance and Governor of the Central Bank | Dimensions: About 148 × 67 mm #### ₨100 — One Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/srilanka-100/ The artwork, front: Reading down: the bank's name in Sinhala across a dark ornamental band, then Tamil and English — "Central Bank of Sri Lanka" — with the value spelled out in Sinhala as රුපියල් සියයය. At right stands a lidded ceremonial pot, the punkalasa, engraved all over with beaded and foliate bands. Below the signatures a makara-style arch curves over a golden lotus, with a small white dagoba at the left. The left panel carries the value in Tamil and English, vertically. The artwork, back: An orange-and-olive scene of two parakeets among broad leaves and lotus blooms, the nearer bird perched low with its hooked red bill turned back. Behind them, cut into the rock face, stand tall robed figures in relief, weathered and shallow, with a carved slab to the right. The bank's name climbs vertically in Sinhala, Tamil and English, and the side panel is planted with magenta hibiscus and bougainvillea. In circulation: The design belongs to Sri Lanka's long-running heritage-and-fauna family of notes, introduced in 1991 and reprinted with fresh dates for well over a decade — this one signed and dated 12 December 2001. It gave way to the 2010 "Development, Prosperity and Sri Lanka Dancers" series, whose 100 rupees took over from 2011. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Sri Lanka (name printed in Sinhala, Tamil and English) | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: One Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Sri Lanka journey, 2005 | Series: Heritage and fauna series, dated 2001-12-12 | Signature: Two manuscript signatures beneath Sinhala titles | Security: Embedded security thread and a lotus rosette device at centre front #### ₨200 — Two Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/srilanka-200/ The artwork, front: The Sri Dalada Maligawa, the Temple of the Tooth at Kandy, rises behind its moat wall, with the octagonal Pattirippuwa at the right. Below runs a frieze of the island's history — guardsmen, dancers, a line of monks, a bullock cart and royal palanquin, and at the right a Portuguese-era encounter with musketeers and pikes. Issuer named vertically in Sinhala, Tamil and English; the lion emblem sits in a clear window. The artwork, back: The Independence Memorial Hall in Colombo, its stone pillars and tiled roof modelled on the Kandyan audience chamber, fills the centre. Around it the modern republic: plantation and harvest workers, a reservoir dam, satellite dish, airport and airliner, container port, schoolgirls with books, and a family group in festival dress. Along the foot, "Independence 1948-1998" in Sinhala, Tamil and English. Serial N/21 448166 in green.',' In circulation: Issued 4 February 1998 for the fiftieth anniversary of independence, and dated as such on the face. The 200-rupee value was never carried into the ordinary series, so no later note replaced it; the 2010 Development, Prosperity and Dancers issue skipped the denomination entirely. Still legal tender, but seldom met with in change. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Sri Lanka | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Two Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Sri Lanka journey, 2005 | Series: 50th Anniversary of Independence commemorative, dated 1998-02-04 | Printer: Note Printing Australia | Security: Polymer substrate with clear window bearing the lion emblem; shadow image of the denomination | Signature: Two signatures beneath the Sinhala legal-tender text, dated 1998-02-04 #### ₨500 — Five Hundred Rupees URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/srilanka-500/ The artwork, front: A Kandyan drummer in cloth headdress and a second musician sit at the right, geta bera drums across their knees, worked in olive and plum intaglio. At the left edge stands a small Ves dancer in full silver headdress, mid-step. Between them, the bank's name in Sinhala, Tamil and English over a rosette of temple ornament, with the denomination spelled out in Sinhala, the two ministerial signatures and the date 2004-04-10. The artwork, back: A spray of large frilled orchids in pink and carmine fills the left half, drawn botanically and printed over a pale sunburst. Behind it, in gold and green, the curve of a great dish and its lattice access tower rise from open ground. The right panel carries the bank's name in all three languages, a 500 in a lotus medallion, and a small wading bird among leaves in the clear paper.family of Sri Lankan designs. In circulation: Part of the trilingual series Sri Lanka introduced in 1991, printed with fresh dates through the 1990s and 2000s — this one carries 10 April 2004. It was superseded from 2011 by the current "Development, Prosperity and Dancers" family, after which the older 500s were gradually withdrawn from till use. Details: Issuer: Central Bank of Sri Lanka, named on both sides in Sinhala, Tamil and English | Currency: Rupee (₨) | Denomination: Five Hundred Rupees | Collected: on the Sri Lanka journey, 2005 | Series: 1991 trilingual series; this note dated 10 April 2004 | Signature: Two signatures, the Minister of Finance and the Governor of the Central Bank | Security: Serial number in two positions, H/92 prefix; watermark window in the right-hand panel ### Tanzania — 3 notes (Shilling) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/tanzania/ #### TSh50 — Fifty Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/tanzania-50/ In circulation: Came home from the Tanzania journey of 1992 — one of 3 Tanzania notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank of Tanzania | Currency: Shilling (TSh) | Denomination: Fifty Shillings | Collected: on the Tanzania journey, 1992 #### TSh100 — One Hundred Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/tanzania-100/ The artwork, front: Julius Nyerere, founding president, in three-quarter profile at the right within a finely engraved oval. At the top centre sits the national arms with the Kilimanjaro shield and the motto Uhuru na Umoja, flanked by a fanned spread of colour. To the left, the Uhuru torch burns against sisal and palm fronds. Swahili throughout: Benki Kuu ya Tanzania, Shilingi Mia Moja, and the legal-tender line beneath. The artwork, back: A graduation procession at the University of Dar es Salaam: masters and graduands in caps and gowns file past the campus buildings, with the barrel-vaulted arcades and the round assembly hall behind them and young trees on the slope below. The outline of mainland Tanzania and Zanzibar rises behind the crowd in dark engraving, with the Uhuru torch echoed faintly at the right in orange and green. In circulation: An undated issue of the mid-1980s, circulating alongside the 20 and 50 shilingi of the same family until the redesigned notes of the early 1990s took over. As inflation ate into small denominations, the hundred passed to coin and the note was retired from everyday use. Details: Issuer: Benki Kuu ya Tanzania (Bank of Tanzania) | Currency: Shilling (TSh) | Denomination: One Hundred Shillings | Collected: on the Tanzania journey, 1992 | Series: 100 Shilingi, undated issue, portrait of Julius Nyerere | Signature: Two: Waziri wa Fedha (Minister of Finance) and Gavana (Governor) | Security: Serial number JY 723460, printed twice in black; intaglio portrait and lathework #### TSh200 — Two Hundred Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/tanzania-200/ The artwork, front: Ali Hassan Mwinyi, Tanzania's second president, engraved at right against a fan of orange and ochre kanga-pattern panels. Above centre sits the national arms with the shield-bearers and the motto Uhuru na Umoja. Left, in pale outline, the Uhuru torch rising from grasses. All text in Swahili: Benki Kuu ya Tanzania, and the promise fedha halali kwa malipo ya shilingi mia mbili. The artwork, back: Two fishermen wade ashore carrying a large fish slung between them, ngalawa and dhows with raised sails drawn up on the beach behind. The map of mainland Tanzania fills the upper ground as a dotted screen. A clove sprig in green flowers at the left; the Uhuru torch, printed in orange, stands at the right. Below, SHILINGI MIA MBILI. In circulation: The Mwinyi 200 shilingi appeared in the early 1990s and stayed in use through the decade. A bimetallic 200 shilingi coin took over the denomination from 1998, and the redesigned banknote family of 2003 dropped the value from paper altogether, leaving this note out of circulation. Details: Issuer: Benki Kuu ya Tanzania (Bank of Tanzania) | Currency: Shilling (TSh) | Denomination: Two Hundred Shillings | Collected: on the Tanzania journey, 1992 | Series: 200 shilingi, Mwinyi portrait issue, undated | Signature: Two: Waziri wa Fedha (Minister of Finance) and Gavana (Governor), the latter G. Rutihinda | Watermark: Giraffe head, in the plain panel at left ### Thailand — 8 notes (Baht) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand/ #### ฿10 — Ten Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-10/ The artwork, front: King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Rama IX) in full dress uniform, heavy with orders and sash, engraved at the right. The Thai text reads รัฐบาลไทย — the Government of Thailand — above the promise of legal tender and สิบบาท, ten baht, spelled out. At the left, the Garuda emblem of state; a rosette medallion and guilloche work fill the centre, with the serial number in Western figures above and repeated in Thai numerals below. The artwork, back: The equestrian statue of King Chulalongkorn (Rama V) on its stepped plinth in the Royal Plaza, Bangkok, before the Ananta Samakhom Throne Hall — cast in Paris for the fortieth anniversary of his reign in 1908. Radiating engine-turned lines spread behind horse and rider like a sunburst, framed by Thai flame-motif scrollwork, with the Garuda at upper right and the denomination in both scripts at the corners.., issued from 1980, is one of the last Thai issues to appear in this quantity before the ten-baht coin took over everyday small change from 1988. Notes stayed in circulation for years afterwards alongside the Series 15 ten baht of 1995, after which the denomination was quietly retired from the note range. In circulation: The Series 12 tenlabel Details: Issuer: Government of Thailand (รัฐบาลไทย) | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: Ten Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Series 12, first issued 1980 | Signature: Minister of Finance and Governor of the Bank of Thailand | Dimensions: 135 × 70 mm #### ฿20 — Twenty Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-20/ In circulation: Came home from the Thailand journeys of 1993–2014 — one of 8 Thailand notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank of Thailand | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: Twenty Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 #### ฿20 — Twenty Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-20-9b59/ The artwork, front: Predominantly green. King Bhumibol Adulyadej, Rama IX, in the full dress uniform of the Royal Thai Army, bespectacled and facing slightly left, with heavy bullion epaulettes and sash. To the left, the Garuda emblem, then the Thai legend รัฐบาลไทย above the legal-tender line and the spelled-out ยี่สิบบาท. A crowned royal monogram sits at centre, with a large Thai numeral ๒๐ below and the signatures of the Minister of Finance and the Governor of the Bank of Thailand. The artwork, back: King Ananda Mahidol, Rama VIII, in uniform with decorations, standing at right. Behind him the cable stays of the Rama VIII Bridge over the Chao Phraya. At left, the young king walking under a tiered umbrella with officials and attendants during a visit to the Sampheng quarter of Bangkok. A Thai inscription recalling his words on honest civic duty runs at lower right; a large ๒๐ fills the lower field. In circulation: Part of the fifteenth series, issued from 2003, and the workhorse small note of Thai daily life for a decade. A redesigned 20 baht of the sixteenth series followed in 2013, and notes bearing King Vajiralongkorn from 2018; this design has been steadily withdrawn from tills but remains legal tender. Details: Issuer: รัฐบาลไทย — Government of Thailand, notes issued by the Bank of Thailand | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: Twenty Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Fifteenth series, from 2003 | Signature: Minister of Finance and Governor of the Bank of Thailand | Dimensions: 138 × 72 mm #### ฿20 — Twenty Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-20-9d41/ The artwork, front: King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Rama IX) in full military dress, sash, orders and heavy spectacles, facing left against a screen of fine engine-turned lines. The Garuda emblem sits top left; the issuer line reads รัฐบาลไทย, Government of Thailand, above the legal tender wording and ยี่สิบบาท, twenty baht. Two signatures below: the Minister of Finance and the Governor of the Bank of Thailand. Serial 9 D 4156832 in Western figures, repeated in Thai numerals at lower right. The artwork, back: The King Taksin the Great monument at Wongwian Yai in Thonburi, rendered in grey-green: the king mounted, sword raised, with four of his generals striding forward on foot around the plinth. Thai lettering to the right names him and gives his years in the Buddhist era. Garuda in copper at top right, a blank oval reserved for the watermark beneath it, and Thai floral scrollwork framing the lower edge. In circulation: Part of Thailand's Series 12, introduced in the early 1980s and printed in very large numbers through the decade, which is why worn examples remain common. The green 20 baht was superseded in the 1990s by the Series 14 note of the same value, and later by the Series 15 design. Details: Issuer: Government of Thailand (รัฐบาลไทย), issued through the Bank of Thailand | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: Twenty Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Series 12, 20 baht | Signature: Minister of Finance and Governor of the Bank of Thailand | Watermark: Portrait of King Bhumibol Adulyadej, in the plain oval at the right of the back | Dimensions: 138 × 72 mm #### ฿50 — Fifty Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-50/ The artwork, front: King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Rama IX) at right in field marshal's dress uniform with sash, collar and orders, spectacles and all. The Garuda emblem sits top left; the centre carries "รัฐบาลไทย" — Government of Thailand — the legal tender clause, and "ห้าสิบบาท", fifty baht, over the two signatures and their printed titles. A stylised lotus-and-foliage panel fills the lower centre, with the value as 50 in both Arabic and Thai numerals. The artwork, back: The seated bronze of King Prajadhipok (Rama VII) that stands before Parliament, dated in Thai numerals for his reign, ๒๔๖๘–๒๔๗๗ (1925–1934). Behind and to the left rises the domed Ananta Samakhom Throne Hall in Italian marble. A royal ceremonial seal within a sunburst occupies the top left, the Garuda the top right, in muted rose and indigo. In circulation: A Series 13 note, introduced in 1985 and printed in quantity through the following decade. Superseded from 1997 by the Series 14 fifty baht — first the short-lived polymer issue, then the paper version of 2004 — after which these gradually vanished from tills, though they were never demonetised. Details: Issuer: Government of Thailand (รัฐบาลไทย), issued by the Bank of Thailand | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: Fifty Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Series 13, from 1985 | Signature: Two: Minister of Finance and Governor of the Bank of Thailand, titles printed in Thai beneath | Watermark: Profile of King Bhumibol Adulyadej | Dimensions: 144 × 72 mm #### ฿50 — Fifty Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-50-new/ The artwork, front: King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Rama IX) in dress uniform, heavy with braid and orders, filling the right half. To the left, the issuer line รัฐบาลไทย — the Government of Thailand — the legal tender clause beneath it, and the value spelled out in Thai as ห้าสิบบาท. Behind the text a great sunburst radiates from the crowned royal cypher; the Garuda sits top left, and a serial in Thai numerals runs across the top with the Western serial low on the right. A clear window carrying an embossed 50 is set into the right margin. The artwork, back: King Mongkut (Rama IV) seated in a frock coat, sword at his side, at a draped table bearing a large brass telescope, with a second tripod-mounted instrument and a celestial globe alongside — the king remembered for predicting the 1868 eclipse and honoured as the father of Thai science. His reign dates are printed above in Thai numerals. At the right, the vast bell of the Phra Pathom Chedi at Nakhon Pathom; big outlined 50s, Thai and Western, stack down the left. In circulation: The fifteenth series 50 baht, and Thailand's polymer experiment: introduced in 1997 and kept in issue until a paper note of the same design took over in 2004. The design was retired with the sixteenth series in 2012, and the denomination now carries King Vajiralongkorn's portrait. Older notes remain legal tender. Details: Issuer: Government of Thailand (รัฐบาลไทย), issued through the Bank of Thailand | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: Fifty Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Fifteenth series, 50 baht | Signature: Two: the Minister of Finance and the Governor of the Bank of Thailand | Security: Clear window with embossed 50, visible from both sides; serial numbers in both Thai and Western numerals | Dimensions: 144 × 72 mm #### ฿50 — Fifty Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-50-old/ In circulation: Came home from the Thailand journeys of 1993–2014 — one of 8 Thailand notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank of Thailand | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: Fifty Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 #### ฿100 — One Hundred Baht URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/thailand-100/ The artwork, front: King Bhumibol Adulyadej, Rama IX, in the full dress uniform of the Royal Thai Armed Forces, engraved three-quarter face in wine-red. To the left, the Garuda emblem, the issuer line "รัฐบาลไทย" with the legal tender clause, and the value spelled out as หนึ่งร้อยบาท above a large Thai numeral ๑๐๐. An orange royal cypher fills the guilloche rosette at centre; the serial appears twice, once in Thai figures. The artwork, back: King Chulalongkorn, Rama V, in decorated court uniform on the right, sword in hand. Beside him a crowded relief-style tableau: the King standing on a dais among labourers and kneeling figures being unshackled — the abolition of slavery, the reform for which he is best remembered. Explanatory Thai text sits lower left, with the Garuda and state emblem in the upper corners and ๑๐๐ across the foot. In circulation: The Series 15 hundred, put into circulation in 2005 and printed in quantity for a decade. Series 16 replaced it from 2015 with a redrawn Rama IX portrait, and Series 17 followed in 2018 bearing King Vajiralongkorn. Earlier series remain legal tender, though these now turn up mostly in change from smaller upcountry shops. Details: Issuer: รัฐบาลไทย — Government of Thailand, issued through the Bank of Thailand | Currency: Baht (฿) | Denomination: One Hundred Baht | Collected: on the Thailand journeys, 1993–2014 | Series: Series 15, issued 2005 | Signature: Two: the Minister of Finance and the Governor of the Bank of Thailand | Security: Holographic foil stripe at left carrying the denomination; see-through register printed in red and blue, completing the numeral ๑๐๐ when held to light | Dimensions: 150 × 72 mm ### Türkiye — 7 notes (Lira) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey/ #### ₺5 — Five Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey-5-c119/ The artwork, front: Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in three-quarter profile, right of centre, engraved in fine purple line-work over a pale ground. A large grey star rises behind him, with the denomination set out twice — the numeral 5 and the words BEŞ TÜRK LİRASI — beside a stylised yellow rosette. Below, the legal text citing the law of 14 January 1970, no. 1211, the two signatures, and the bank's printing works with the year 2009. The artwork, back: Ord. Prof. Dr. Aydın Sayılı (1913–1993), Turkey's pioneering historian of science, bespectacled and looking left, named in small type at his shoulder. Around him the emblems of his subject: a Rutherford-style atom with orbiting electrons above, a DNA double helix running down the centre, and faint planetary orbits washed across the field in mauve and pale green. Serial number twice, top right and lower left. In circulation: The ninth emission group, introduced on 1 January 2009 when the word 'Yeni' was dropped and the New Turkish Lira notes of 2005 were withdrawn. This 5 lira design remains current, reprinted over the years with successive governors' signatures; the low-denomination note is increasingly displaced in daily use by the 5 lira coin. Details: Issuer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası | Currency: Lira (₺) | Denomination: Five Lira | Collected: on the Türkiye journeys, 1995–2022 | Series: E9 (ninth emission), dated 2009; issued under Law no. 1211 of 14 January 1970 | Signature: Two — Başkan (Governor) and Başkan Yardımcısı (Deputy Governor) | Watermark: Portrait of Atatürk in the plain left field, with electrotype 5 | Dimensions: 130 × 64 mm #### ₺10 — Ten Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey-10/ The artwork, front: Atatürk in three-quarter profile, facing left in a dark suit and tie, with the star of the Turkish flag rising behind his head — the standard obverse of every denomination in this rose-red family. The issuer's name runs along the top, the value given twice in figures and once in words as "ON TÜRK LİRASI", above the 1970 enabling-law text, the two signature panels for Başkan and Başkan Yardımcısı, and the printworks line dated 2009. Two raised dots at upper left serve as a tactile mark. The artwork, back: Ord. Prof. Dr. Cahit Arf, 1910–1997, in spectacles and a check jacket, named in small red capitals beside his shoulder. To the left, his own contribution written out as mathematics: the Arf invariant, Arf(q) = Σ q(aᵢ)q(bᵢ) ∈ ℤ₂, with the index line beneath it. Behind, clusters of dots arranged in triangular and columnar counting figures, a nod to number theory rather than to any landscape. In circulation: Introduced on 1 January 2009 with the ninth emission group, the series that dropped "Yeni" from the name and replaced the 10 New Turkish lira of 2005. It remains legal tender and in everyday use, so this design has never been withdrawn — only worn down, as this well-creased example shows. Details: Issuer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası | Currency: Lira (₺) | Denomination: Ten Lira | Collected: on the Türkiye journeys, 1995–2022 | Series: Ninth emission group (E9), printworks line dated 2009 | Printer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası Banknot Matbaası | Signature: Başkan and Başkan Yardımcısı; the second reads E. Şener | Security: Holographic stripe at the right of the front carrying the value; two raised tactile dots at upper left | Dimensions: 136 × 64 mm #### ₺20 — Twenty Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey-20-e229/ The artwork, front: Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in three-quarter profile, looking right, filling the whole right half in soft green line-engraving. Behind him a large star in dull red, and the value spelled out twice — "20 YİRMİ TÜRK LİRASI" — above the legal formula citing the law of 14 January 1970, no. 1211. Below that the two signature panels, BAŞKAN and BAŞKAN YARDIMCISI, and the Banknot Matbaası imprint dated 2009. The artwork, back: Mimar Kemaleddin, dated 1870–1927 beside his collar, moustached and in a high-buttoned jacket. To his left, a perspective drawing of one of his Ankara buildings, an arcaded facade of stacked round arches running back into the picture. Further left, a cube, a sphere and a cylinder in outline — the primary solids of the architect's trade — with a gold circular pattern above. Serial E 229 296814 twice. In circulation: The ninth emission group, introduced on 1 January 2009 to replace the short-lived "New Turkish Lira" notes, which lost legal tender status at the end of that year. This 20 lira design remains current, later printings differing only in date and in the governor's and deputy governor's signatures. Details: Issuer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası | Currency: Lira (₺) | Denomination: Twenty Lira | Collected: on the Türkiye journeys, 1995–2022 | Series: E9 (ninth emission group), dated 2009 | Printer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası Banknot Matbaası | Watermark: Portrait of Atatürk with electrotype 20 | Signature: Başkan and Başkan Yardımcısı | Dimensions: 142 × 68 mm #### ₺50 — Fifty Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey-50/ The artwork, front: Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in three-quarter view, engraved in warm red-brown, with a large star rising behind his shoulder in the manner of the national flag. The denomination appears twice as figures and once spelled out — ELLİ TÜRK LİRASI — above the legal formula citing Law No. 1211 of 14 January 1970. Pale green and gold ribbon bands sweep across the left half, with the governor's and deputy governor's signatures beneath. The artwork, back: Fatma Aliye, captioned with her dates, 1862–1936, looking out past a writing desk: an open book, a quill resting in its inkpot, a row of bound volumes to the left and scattered blossom motifs in yellow and pink across the field. One of the very few Turkish notes to carry a woman's portrait, and fittingly the scene is entirely one of authorship. In circulation: The ninth emission group, dated 2009 on the note and introduced at the start of that year when the New Turkish lira became simply the Turkish lira again. It remains legal tender; later printings of the same design differ only in the signatures at the foot of the face. Details: Issuer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası | Currency: Lira (₺) | Denomination: Fifty Lira | Collected: on the Türkiye journeys, 1995–2022 | Series: Ninth emission group (E9), dated 2009 | Printer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası Banknot Matbaası | Signature: Başkan and Başkan Yardımcısı (Governor and Deputy Governor) | Dimensions: 148 × 68 mm #### ₺100 — One Hundred Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey-100/ The artwork, front: Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in a three-quarter view, engraved in blue, wearing a jacket and tie — the same portrait carried by every denomination of the series. Behind him the star and crescent of the flag, the star picked out in rose over a pale field of guilloche waves. The value stands large in words and figures, "100 YÜZ TÜRK LİRASI", above the citation of Law 1211 of 14 January 1970 and the two signatures. The artwork, back: İtri — named on the note as Buhurizade Mustafa Efendi, 1640–1712 — the great Ottoman composer, bearded and in the tall conical Mevlevi cap. Around him the instruments of his music: an ud with a staff of notes running across it, a kudüm drum in warm yellow, and the outline of a seated Mevlevi playing the ney. Scattered treble clefs and quavers fill the remaining field. In circulation: Issued from 1 January 2009 as part of the ninth emission, which restored the plain "Türk Lirası" after three years of the Yeni Türk Lirası notes it replaced note-for-note. The design remains in use; later printings carry the signatures of subsequent governors rather than those seen here. Details: Issuer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası | Currency: Lira (₺) | Denomination: One Hundred Lira | Collected: on the Türkiye journeys, 1995–2022 | Series: E9 (ninth emission), dated 2009 on the face | Printer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası Banknot Matbaası | Signature: Başkan (Governor) and Başkan Yardımcısı (Deputy Governor) | Watermark: Atatürk portrait with electrotype 100 #### ₺10000 — Ten Thousand Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey-10000/ The artwork, front: Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in a wing collar and bow tie, turned in three-quarter profile to the left, engraved in slate blue against green guilloche. Behind him a band of interlaced Seljuk knotwork runs across the top, with tulip and carnation motifs at the right edge and a tiled crown ornament lower left. The value reads ON BİN TÜRK LİRASI above the law reference of 14 January 1970, no. 1211, and the two signatures. The artwork, back: An all-green scene: Mimar Sinan, the Ottoman court architect, shown bearded and in a great turban, named and dated 1490–1588 beneath his shoulder. Behind him rises his Selimiye Mosque at Edirne, its four slender minarets flanking the great dome, with cypresses at the foot of the walls. A tulip and stem ornament fills the left margin under the numeral 10000. In circulation: A mid-1980s issue that answered the inflation of the period, when 10,000 lira was the top denomination. It was overtaken within a few years by 20,000, 50,000 and eventually million-lira notes. All old lira ceased to be legal tender after the 2005 redenomination, when one new lira replaced a million of these. Details: Issuer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası | Currency: Lira (₺) | Denomination: Ten Thousand Lira | Collected: on the Türkiye journeys, 1995–2022 | Series: Issued under the law of 14 January 1970, no. 1211; serial prefix in the style J83 | Signature: Two: Başkan (Governor) and Başkan Yardımcısı (Deputy Governor) #### ₺20000 — Twenty Thousand Lira URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/turkey-20000/ The artwork, front: Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in white tie and dinner jacket, three-quarter profile facing left, engraved in deep red over a fine guilloche ground. The centre carries the bank's name, YİRMİ BİN TÜRK LİRASI, and the enabling text "14 Ocak 1970 tarih ve 1211 sayılı kanuna göre çıkarılmıştır", above the two signatures of the Başkan and Başkan Yardımcısı. Left of centre, a tall teardrop panel of Ottoman illumination in pale blue and rose. The artwork, back: The head office of the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey in Ankara, drawn in violet: the slab tower rising over its low podium block, with landscaped terraces, railings and trees in the foreground and city blocks receding to the left. The same illuminated teardrop motif is repeated to the right in blue and brown line-work, with a small printed rosette below it and 20000 above. In circulation: Issued from 1988 as the top denomination of its day, still under the 1970 central bank law. Galloping inflation soon pushed it down the ladder as 50,000, 100,000 and eventually million-lira notes appeared, and it was finally swept away by the 2005 revaluation, when a million old lira became one new lira. Details: Issuer: Türkiye Cumhuriyet Merkez Bankası | Currency: Lira (₺) | Denomination: Twenty Thousand Lira | Collected: on the Türkiye journeys, 1995–2022 | Series: Law of 14 January 1970, no. 1211; serial G73 480118 | Signature: Başkan and Başkan Yardımcısı (Governor and Deputy Governor) | Watermark: Head of Atatürk ### Uganda — 3 notes (Shilling) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uganda/ #### USh100 — One Hundred Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uganda-100/ The artwork, front: The Uganda coat of arms fills the left panel: a shield with sun, drum and waves over the Nile, flanked by a kob antelope and a grey crowned crane, on a scroll reading FOR GOD AND MY COUNTRY. At centre, an outline map of Uganda sits above the issuer's name and the denomination in English and Swahili — ONE HUNDRED SHILLINGS / SHILINGI MIA MOJA. Deep blue and teal guilloche throughout, with 1988 beside a second small arms device. The artwork, back: A long, arcaded public building in pale blue-grey, two storeys of tall windows stepping down a slope to a squat clock tower at the left end — an institutional colonial-era block, rendered from a low angle with hills behind. Broad crossed diagonal bands in teal and slate frame the scene, with 100 repeated at each corner and the bilingual denomination spelled out along the foot. In circulation: Part of the shilling family issued after Uganda's 1987 currency reform, which lopped two zeros off the old shilling; this piece carries the 1988 date. Inflation steadily eroded the lower values, and the hundred was eventually superseded by a 100-shilling coin, with paper money concentrating on the higher denominations. Details: Issuer: Bank of Uganda | Currency: Shilling (USh) | Denomination: One Hundred Shillings | Collected: on the Uganda journey, 1992 | Series: Post-reform shilling issue, dated 1988 | Signature: Governor and Secretary, Treasury | Security: Serial number PE164767, printed in black at upper right and lower left #### USh200 — Two Hundred Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uganda-200/ The artwork, front: An orange and ochre field built from dense guilloche lattice. Left, the arms of Uganda: shield with sun, drum and waves, flanked by a kob and a crested crane, on the motto scroll "For God and My Country". Centre, the outline map of the country beneath "Bank of Uganda", with the value in English and Swahili — Two Hundred Shillings, Shilingi Mia Mbili — the date 1987, and signatures for Governor and Secretary Treasury. The artwork, back: A working interior: a cotton spinning mill, with an attendant in shirt and trousers standing between a heap of raw cotton bales and a long row of spinning frames running away under the roof trusses. Drawn in red-brown and grey line engraving, framed by tall interlaced panels, with the bilingual denomination repeated along the bottom edge. In circulation: Dated 1987, part of the first family of notes issued after Uganda's currency reform of that year, which struck two zeros from the old shilling. The design was reprinted with later dates into the 1990s before inflation retired it; a 200 shilling coin took over the value from 1998. Details: Issuer: Bank of Uganda | Currency: Shilling (USh) | Denomination: Two Hundred Shillings | Collected: on the Uganda journey, 1992 | Series: 1987-dated issue of the reformed shilling | Signature: Governor and Secretary Treasury #### USh1000 — One Thousand Shillings URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uganda-1000/ The artwork, front: A farmer at work in the banana garden, bent over a digging stick, with broad matoke leaves filling the left of the note and tall maize with a ripening cob on the right — agriculture as the plain subject rather than any head of state. Between them the Uganda coat of arms, the crested crane and kob flanking the shield above the motto "For God and My Country", and the value in English and Swahili: One Thousand Shillings, Shilingi Elfu Moja. The artwork, back: A grain silo complex in dark line engraving: four ribbed storage bins linked by an overhead conveyor gallery to a tall processing block, with two flat-bed lorries drawn up at the loading bays and scrub trees crowding the edges. Green guilloche rosettes fill both corners, the value repeats in English and Swahili at the right, and 1000 sits large at each end of the lower band. In circulation: The dated 1991 printing of a design the Bank of Uganda kept in service through the 1990s and 2000s, with later date changes and only minor adjustments. It was retired with the wholly new family of Ugandan notes introduced in 2010, on which the 1,000 shillings carries quite different artwork. Details: Issuer: Bank of Uganda | Currency: Shilling (USh) | Denomination: One Thousand Shillings | Collected: on the Uganda journey, 1992 | Series: Dated 1991; value in English and Swahili | Signature: Two: Governor and Secretary | Security: Serial BU 792327, printed vertically at left and horizontally at right ### United Kingdom — 10 notes (Pound) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom/ #### £1 — One Pound URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-1/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II in three-quarter profile, wearing the diamond diadem and the sash and star of an order — Harry Eccleston's engraved portrait, the first to show a monarch on a Bank of England note other than in a small medallion. Centre, a roundel with a winged caduceus rising from a cornucopia and sprays of flowers, the promise to pay above it in copperplate capitals. Lower left, a seated Britannia with shield in a small medallion. The artwork, back: Sir Isaac Newton, dated 1642–1727 in the guilloche rosette at right, seated in a full wig and heavy coat with an open book beneath his hands and a reflecting telescope on the table beside him. Behind, a schematic of the solar system with the planetary orbits and a blazing sun; apple blossom sprigs frame his head. The whole reverse is worked in grey-green with soft orange tints..first issued on 9 February 1978 and withdrawn from circulation on 11 March 1988, by which time the £1 coin of 1983 had largely taken over everyday use. No paper pound followed it; the coin remains the replacement, and the Series D note ceased to be legal tender with that 1988 withdrawal. In circulation: The last Bank of England one-pound note, and the first of the pictorial Series D pounds: issued 9 February 1978 and withdrawn on 11 March 1988. The £1 coin, introduced in 1983, had already displaced it in daily use, and no paper pound replaced it. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: One Pound | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England — "For the Govr and Compa of the Bank of England", London | Series: Series D (pictorial), Isaac Newton reverse | Signature: J. B. Page, Chief Cashier | Dimensions: 135 × 67 mm #### £1 — One Pound URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-1-scotland/ The artwork, front: Archibald Campbell, Lord Ilay, first Governor of the Bank, engraved from Allan Ramsay's 1744 portrait — full-bottomed wig, plain coat, named in small caps at lower right. The green wording promises to pay the bearer one pound sterling "at their head office here in Edinburgh", dated 24th July 1991, over a faint engraving of Dundas House. Below, the Bank's arms and the chief executive's signature; the Bank's four-armed daisy device sits at the top centre. The artwork, back: Edinburgh Castle seen from the west, perched above the Princes Street Gardens, with the crag falling away to the right and trees stepping down the slope — captioned simply EDINBURGH CASTLE. Across the foreground run the colonnades of the Royal Scottish Academy and the National Gallery of Scotland on the Mound. An orange sunburst rosette and pale star lattice fill the right, with the Bank's name in the same heavy green type. In circulation: The Ilay design was introduced in 1987 and carried the Royal Bank's pound through the 1990s, this example dated July 1991. The Bank later wound down its £1 note, concentrating on £5 and above, and the Ilay portrait itself was eventually succeeded by the Bank's Fabric of Nature series notes. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: One Pound | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: The Royal Bank of Scotland plc, Edinburgh | Series: Ilay series, dated 24th July 1991 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited | Signature: Chief Executive | Dimensions: 135 × 67 mm #### £5 — Five Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-5-charles-churchill/ The artwork, front: King Charles III in three-quarter view, engraved in fine blue line-work — the first Bank of England fiver to carry his likeness. Behind the promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of five pounds sits the Bank's own Threadneedle Street façade, with four shields above it. At left, a large clear window framing the Elizabeth Tower in gold foil, a smaller window portrait, a foil crown and the Britannia medallion. The artwork, back: Sir Winston Churchill, jowls set, from the well-known 1941 sitting, with the words "I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat" beneath and his signature alongside. Behind him the Palace of Westminster and the Elizabeth Tower, the clock hands at three o'clock, and the reverse of his 1953 Nobel Prize in Literature medal. Serial number CA31 599141 in ascending figures. In circulation: The Churchill polymer fiver has been in issue since September 2016; this variant, bearing King Charles III, entered circulation on 5 June 2024. Charles and Elizabeth II notes of the same design circulate side by side and both remain legal tender, the older portrait being withdrawn only gradually as notes wear out. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Five Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England — "For the Governor and Company of the Bank of England", London | Series: Polymer £5, Churchill reverse, King Charles III portrait; copyright date 2023 | Signature: Sarah John, Chief Cashier | Printer: De La Rue | Security: Polymer substrate; large clear window with gold foil Elizabeth Tower, second window portrait, foil crown, green foil patch on the reverse | Dimensions: 125 × 65 mm #### £5 — Five Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-5-lh/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II in tiara and pearls, engraved three-quarter face, filling the right half. Left of her the copperplate "Bank of England" flourish and the promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of Five Pounds, with the serial LH51 911526 in ascending green-to-red print. Below, the signature of Chris Salmon as Chief Cashier, a foil patch, a Greek-key maze panel and the turquoise E II R roundel. The artwork, back: Elizabeth Fry, bonneted and calm, at the right, with her signature and the dates 1780–1845 beneath. To the left, the vignette of her reading to women prisoners and their children in Newgate gaol — a crowded room under a barred window, sunlight falling across the brick. Behind her a fan of fine red guilloche lines, and the dashed metallic thread running down the note. In circulation: Issued 21 May 2002 as the last paper £5, and the first Bank of England note to carry Elizabeth Fry. Superseded by the polymer Churchill £5 from September 2016; the Fry note ceased to be legal tender on 5 May 2017, though the Bank still exchanges it at face value. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Five Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England | Series: Series E (revised) — the Elizabeth Fry £5 | Signature: Chris Salmon, Chief Cashier | Security: Embedded metallic thread, visible as a dashed line on the reverse; foil patch and microlettered "FIVE POUNDS" on the face | Dimensions: 135 × 70 mm #### £5 — Five Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-5-mb/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II in a diamond tiara and pearls, engraved in fine line work at the right. To the left, the Bank of England's copperplate heading over the promise "I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of Five Pounds", signed by Chris Salmon as Chief Cashier, with "London for the Govr and Compa of the Bank of England" beneath. A Greek-key panel fills the lower left, broken by a turquoise E II R medallion and a holographic foil patch. The artwork, back: Elizabeth Fry, the Quaker prison reformer, at the right in her bonnet, dated 1780–1845 beneath her own signature. Across the left half, the Newgate scene: Fry reading to women prisoners, mothers and small children crowded on the boards beneath a barred window, light falling in shafts across the cell. Behind her a rayed fan of red and yellow guilloche work fills the field. In circulation: Issued from May 2002 as the revised Series E five, carrying the 2002 copyright line, and current through three Chief Cashiers' signatures. Withdrawn from circulation on 5 May 2017, having been superseded by the polymer five bearing Winston Churchill, first issued in September 2016. Elizabeth Fry was the last woman other than the Queen on a Bank of England five. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Five Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England | Series: Series E (revised) — Elizabeth Fry | Signature: Chris Salmon, Chief Cashier | Watermark: Portrait of Queen Elizabeth II | Security: Holographic foil patch, embedded metallic thread, and repeated FIVE POUNDS microlettering | Dimensions: 135 × 70 mm #### £5 — Five Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-5-queen-churchill/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II at right, coiffed and earringed, set against a fine engine-turned ground with the value 5 repeated in tiny numerals. The promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of five pounds sits beneath the Bank of England heading, above the four heraldic shields of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland and a view of the Bank's own Threadneedle Street facade. A gold-foil Elizabeth Tower rises in the clear window, with a metallic crown patch above. The artwork, back: Sir Winston Churchill, 1874-1965, jowled and unsmiling, from the wartime portrait sitting — arguably the best-known image of him. Behind, the Palace of Westminster in brown and the Elizabeth Tower with its hands at three o'clock; the medal of his 1953 Nobel Prize in Literature fills the upper left. His facsimile signature and the line "I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat" run along the foot. In circulation: The Churchill fiver entered circulation on 13 September 2016 as the Bank of England's first polymer note, retiring the paper Elizabeth Fry £5, which lost legal tender status in May 2017. It remains current, now joined by £5 notes bearing the portrait of King Charles III issued from June 2024. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Five Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England, London | Series: Polymer £5, 'Queen and Churchill' (2016) | Signature: Victoria Cleland, Chief Cashier | Security: Clear polymer window with gold-foil Elizabeth Tower and a see-through £ symbol; green foil crown patch; copyright dates 2015 and 2016 | Dimensions: 125 × 65 mm #### £10 — Ten Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-10-charles/ The artwork, front: King Charles III in three-quarter view, the first Bank of England £10 to carry him, with "Bank of England" in copperplate above and the old promise "I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of ten pounds". Below sit the four shields of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland and a classical columned façade, the Bank's own Threadneedle Street home. To the left, a clear window with Winchester Cathedral in gold foil, a purple quill, and a small portrait window. The artwork, back: Jane Austen, engraved after the 1870 James Andrews watercolour that softened her sister Cassandra's sketch, with her signature and the dates 1775–1817. Behind her, Elizabeth Bennet at a writing desk reading Jane's letters, and Godmersham Park, the Kent seat of Austen's brother Edward. Across the foot, Caroline Bingley's line from Pride and Prejudice: "I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!" In circulation: The Jane Austen polymer tenner appeared in September 2017, replacing the paper Charles Darwin note. This variant, dated 2023 and bearing Charles III, entered circulation on 5 June 2024 and passes alongside the earlier Elizabeth II printings; both remain current, with the King's portrait spreading only as older notes wear out. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Ten Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England | Series: Polymer £10 (Jane Austen), Charles III portrait, dated 2023 | Signature: Sarah John, Chief Cashier | Security: Clear window with gold-foil Winchester Cathedral, purple foil quill, circular portrait window, silver Britannia patch, raised print #### £10 — Ten Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-10-queen-austen/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II in three-quarter profile, wearing tiara and pearl earring, set against the Bank's own facade on Threadneedle Street and the four heraldic shields of the Union. "Bank of England" in copperplate above the promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of ten pounds. Left of centre, a clear window carrying a second portrait of the Queen and a crown, with the quill and Winchester Cathedral picked out in gold foil. The artwork, back: Jane Austen, after the engraving worked up from her sister Cassandra's pencil sketch — cap, ringlets, and a level gaze. Behind her, Godmersham Park, her brother Edward's Kent house, and an illustration of Elizabeth Bennet at her letters. Her signature sits beside the dates 1775–1817 and the line "I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!". The cathedral foil repeats in silver; a book-shaped patch holds the letters JA. In circulation: Issued 14 September 2017, the second Bank of England note on polymer after the Churchill £5. Its arrival retired the paper Darwin £10, which lost legal tender status on 1 March 2018. Notes of this design remain in circulation alongside the King Charles III £10 introduced in June 2024. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Ten Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England, London | Series: Polymer £10, Jane Austen (2016 date line, issued 2017) | Signature: Victoria Cleland, Chief Cashier | Printer: De La Rue, Debden | Security: Clear window with portrait of the Queen and crown; gold and silver foil of Winchester Cathedral and quill; book-shaped foil patch lettered JA; raised print | Dimensions: 132 × 69 mm #### £20 — Twenty Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-20-charles-turner/ The artwork, front: King Charles III in three-quarter profile at the right, the first Bank of England note to bear his likeness. To the left of the promise to pay — "I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of twenty pounds" — stand the four shields of the Union and the columned front of the Bank's Threadneedle Street building. A gold foil Britannia sits in the margin, and the large see-through window carries a blue and gold image of Margate lighthouse with the Turner Contemporary gallery behind it. The artwork, back: Joseph Mallord William Turner, 1775–1851, taken from his self-portrait of about 1799 now in the Tate, set against his own painting of The Fighting Temeraire being towed to the breaker's yard — the tug's smoke, the old warship's masts, the low sun on the water. His signature appears beneath the portrait, with the line from his 1818 lecture: "Light is therefore colour". Serial EH33 124310 runs vertically at the left and again at the lower right. In circulation: The Charles III portrait notes were issued in June 2024, entering circulation alongside the identical Elizabeth II design rather than replacing it — both remain legal tender and will circulate together until the older stock wears out. The underlying Turner £20 design dates from 2020, when it took over from the paper Adam Smith note. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Twenty Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England — "For the Governor and Company of the Bank of England", London | Series: Turner £20, polymer, with the Charles III portrait; copyright date 2023 | Signature: Sarah John, Chief Cashier | Security: Large see-through window with blue and gold foil lighthouse, a second small window, and a raised-dot tactile feature | Dimensions: 139 × 73 mm #### £20 — Twenty Pounds URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedkingdom-20-queen-turner/ The artwork, front: Queen Elizabeth II in three-quarter profile, wreathed in the lilac and purple of the Turner series, with "Bank of England" in blackletter and the promise to pay twenty pounds beneath. Four heraldic shields for England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland sit above a colonnaded classical facade. A large see-through window carries a gold Margate lighthouse; a smaller round window repeats the Queen. Signed by Sarah John, Chief Cashier. The artwork, back: Joseph Mallord William Turner, from his own self-portrait of about 1799, in a high collar and cravat, painted more boldly than any Bank note portrait before it. Behind him, a steam tug hauls the warship of The Fighting Temeraire through a smudged sunrise. His signature, taken from his will, sits at the elbow, with the line "Light is therefore colour" from an 1818 lecture. In circulation: Issued 20 February 2020, the third Bank of England polymer note, taking over from the paper Adam Smith £20 that lost legal tender status on 30 September 2022. Notes bearing this Elizabeth II portrait remain spendable, though from June 2024 they began to be joined and gradually replaced by £20 notes showing King Charles III. Details: Currency: Pound (£) | Denomination: Twenty Pounds | Collected: on the United Kingdom journeys, 1991–2016 | Issuer: Bank of England | Series: Polymer £20, J.M.W. Turner, dated 2018 | Signature: Sarah John, Chief Cashier | Security: See-through window with gold Margate lighthouse foil, second round window with the Queen's portrait, shaped clear window, and two clusters of raised dots as a tactile mark | Dimensions: 139 × 73 mm, polymer ### United States — 3 notes (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedstates/ #### $2 — Two Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedstates-2/ The artwork, front: Thomas Jefferson, engraved after Gilbert Stuart's portrait, in an oval frame at centre with his name on a scroll below. Left of him, the black seal of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York with its district letter B and the numeral 2 repeated in each corner; right, the green Treasury seal over a pale grey "TWO". Signed by Rosa Gumataotao Rios as Treasurer and Jacob J. Lew as Secretary, with SERIES 2013 between them. The artwork, back: A reduced engraving of John Trumbull's "Declaration of Independence" — the drafting committee presenting its text to the Continental Congress, Jefferson foremost, John Hancock seated at right. The engraver trimmed Trumbull's crowded chamber, so not every figure of the original painting survives. Banners above and below carry THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, TWO DOLLARS, IN GOD WE TRUST and DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE, 1776. In circulation: The two-dollar note took this Trumbull back for the Bicentennial series of 1976, replacing the Monticello reverse, and has carried it unchanged ever since. Printing is sporadic rather than annual, so the notes are scarce in tills but never demonetised — every one issued since 1976 remains legal tender at face value. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Two Dollars | Collected: on the United States journeys, 2012–2016 | Issuer: Federal Reserve Note — Federal Reserve Bank of New York, district B | Series: 2013 | Printer: Bureau of Engraving and Printing, Fort Worth (FW plate mark) | Signature: Rosa Gumataotao Rios, Treasurer of the United States; Jacob J. Lew, Secretary of the Treasury | Dimensions: 156 × 66 mm #### $2 — Two Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedstates-2-modern/ The artwork, front: Thomas Jefferson at centre, after the Gilbert Stuart portrait, framed in an oval with his name on a scroll below. Left, the seal of the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco with its district number 12 repeated in the corners; right, the green Treasury seal over a ghosted "TWO". Above, "FEDERAL RESERVE NOTE" and the legal tender clause; the denomination is spelled out four times in the border. The artwork, back: An engraving after John Trumbull's "Declaration of Independence" — the committee presenting the draft to John Hancock, seated at right in the President's chair. The plate compresses Trumbull's composition, so several figures from the painting are missing. Curled "2"s sit in each corner, "TWO" runs vertically down the sides, and beneath the frame: "IN GOD WE TRUST" and "DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE, 1776". In circulation: The Trumbull back dates from the 1976 Bicentennial reissue of the two-dollar note, which changed the earlier design from Monticello to the Declaration scene. Nothing has replaced it: the note is still legal tender and still printed in small runs, of which this Series 2013 batch is one. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Two Dollars | Collected: on the United States journeys, 2012–2016 | Issuer: Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco (district L, 12) | Series: 2013 | Printer: Bureau of Engraving and Printing, Fort Worth (plate marked FW) | Signature: Rosa Gumataotao Rios, Treasurer of the United States; Jacob J. Lew, Secretary of the Treasury | Dimensions: 156 × 66 mm #### $2 — Two Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/unitedstates-2-red-seal/ The artwork, front: Thomas Jefferson in three-quarter profile, engraved after the Gilbert Stuart portrait, set in an oval with the name JEFFERSON on a small tablet beneath. The legal tender clause sits at the left over a ghosted grey 2; at the right, the red Treasury seal over a large grey TWO, with WASHINGTON, D.C. above. Serials in red, twice, prefix and suffix A. Scrolled corner 2s and TWO DOLLARS along every edge. The artwork, back: Monticello, Jefferson's own house in Virginia, seen from the west front: the dome, the pedimented portico on its slim columns, wings and terraces running off to either side, trees crowding the lawn, and two small figures on the steps for scale. The name MONTICELLO sits on a tablet below. All in green, inside an oval, under a ribbon reading THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.Notes, with heavy lathework and TWO in each corner. In circulation: A United States Note rather than a Federal Reserve Note, hence the red seal and the promise to pay the bearer on demand. The 1953 series ran through 1963A, after which the two-dollar denomination was dropped in 1966. It returned only in 1976, as a green-seal Federal Reserve Note with the Declaration of Independence on the back. Details: Currency: Dollar ($) | Denomination: Two Dollars | Collected: on the United States journeys, 2012–2016 | Issuer: United States of America — United States Note | Series: 1953A | Signature: Ivy Baker Priest, Treasurer of the United States; Robert B. Anderson, Secretary of the Treasury | Printer: Bureau of Engraving and Printing | Dimensions: 156 × 66 mm ### Uruguay — 4 notes (Peso) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uruguay/ #### $U10 — Ten Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uruguay-10/ The artwork, front: The Plaza de la Democracia in Montevideo with its Monumento a la Bandera — a low concrete slab and stepped terraces beneath three bare flagpoles, one flying the striped Uruguayan flag with its Sun of May. Palms and pines crowd both sides, a heavy tree filling the right edge. The value panel reads PESOS URUGUAYOS / DIEZ / MONEDA NACIONAL, with an oval reserve at left for the watermark and the decree number above. The artwork, back: Nineteen departmental coats of arms, ranged in three rows across a green and buff ground and captioned ESCUDOS DEPARTAMENTALES along the foot — Cerro Largo, Colonia, Durazno, Flores, Lavalleja, Maldonado, Montevideo, Paysandú, Rivera, San José de Mayo, Soriano, Tacuarembó and the rest, each with its own castles, ploughs, hills and rising suns. PESOS URUGUAYOS runs vertically up the left panel; the bank's name is stacked in the lower right. In circulation: Issued by the Banco Central under Decreto-Ley No. 14.316 in the mid-1970s, at the tail end of the old peso. The nuevo peso, worth a thousand of these, arrived in 1975 and brought its own family of notes, so the small Pesos Uruguayos denominations had a short working life. Details: Issuer: Banco Central del Uruguay | Currency: Peso ($U) | Denomination: Ten Pesos | Collected: on the Uruguay journey, 1997 | Series: Decreto-Ley No. 14.316; Serie A | Printer: Giesecke & Devrient | Watermark: Artigas, in the oval reserve at left | Signature: Three: Gerente General, Secretario General and Presidente #### $U20 — Twenty Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uruguay-20/ The artwork, front: Juan Zorrilla de San Martín, the poet of "La Leyenda Patria" and "Tabaré", engraved three-quarters facing left with his heavy beard and high forehead, his name on a ribbon beneath the shoulder. The national arms sit in the left panel above a vertical URUGUAY, with signatures for Presidente, Gerente General and Secretario General across the middle, and VEINTE picked out in green and mauve. The artwork, back: A winged allegorical figure in flowing drapery, captioned ALEGORIA DE LA LEYENDA PATRIA — the personification of Zorrilla's patriotic poem, filling the left half in deep green. To the right, a scroll bearing lines of the poet's own hand with TABARE and LA LEYENDA PATRIA beneath, wreathed in laurel, and VEINTE in a green panel over MONEDA NACIONAL. In circulation: Part of the peso uruguayo family introduced after the 1993 currency reform, when a thousand nuevos pesos became one peso. This Series A note is dated 1994; the same design was reprinted with later dates through the decade before the redesigned pesos of the 2000s, which kept Zorrilla de San Martín on the twenty, took over. Details: Issuer: Banco Central del Uruguay | Currency: Peso ($U) | Denomination: Twenty Pesos | Collected: on the Uruguay journey, 1997 | Series: Serie A, dated 1994 | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited | Signature: Three: Presidente, Gerente General, Secretario General | Security: Oval watermark panel at right of the face; red and green serial numbers, vertical and horizontal #### $U2000 — Two Thousand Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uruguay-2000/ The artwork, front: Juan Manuel Blanes, named on the ribbon beneath him — the painter of Uruguay's founding myths, and an odd, welcome choice of face for a banknote. The engraved head sits in olive-grey against a pale green guilloche, with the national coat of arms at upper left and the word URUGUAY set vertically down the counterfoil. Orange lettering: BANCO CENTRAL DEL URUGUAY, NUEVOS PESOS, DOS MIL, MONEDA NACIONAL. A large orange disc balances the right side. The artwork, back: A seated, robed woman in blue-green, rays of light spreading behind her head and banners heaped at her side, captioned EL ALTAR DE LA PATRIA — an appropriately Blanes-flavoured allegory of the nation to accompany the painter on the face. The issuer's name is repeated in dark grey at the upper right above NUEVOS PESOS and DOS MIL in orange, with N$2.000 in each corner. In circulation: One of the last and largest of the nuevos pesos notes, dated 1989 and circulating into the early 1990s as inflation pushed the denomination upward. It was swept away by the 1993 currency reform, when the peso uruguayo replaced the nuevo peso at a thousand to one and an entirely new series of notes took over. Details: Issuer: Banco Central del Uruguay | Currency: Peso ($U) | Denomination: Two Thousand Pesos | Collected: on the Uruguay journey, 1997 | Series: 1989, Serie A | Printer: Thomas de la Rue & Company Limited | Signature: Two signatures at right, titled Gerente General and Secretario General, with a third above #### $U5000 — Five Thousand Pesos URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/uruguay-5000/ The artwork, front: Brigadier General Juan Antonio Lavalleja, named in small caps beside his shoulder — leader of the Thirty-Three Orientals and a founding figure of independent Uruguay — engraved in reddish brown and facing slightly left in a heavily braided uniform. Centre left, the national coat of arms in pale blue: scales, the Cerro fortress, a horse and an ox in quarters. The value panel reads NUEVOS PESOS / CINCO MIL / MONEDA NACIONAL, with LEY Nº 14.316 above. The artwork, back: A full-colour reproduction of the swearing of the constitution, captioned JURA DE LA CONSTITUCION 1830: crowds in top hats and bonnets packed before a colonnaded building hung with flags, dignitaries watching from the balcony. To the left, ceibo foliage and the legend 18 DE JULIO 1830-1980, SESQUICENTENARIO DE LA JURA DE LA CONSTITUCION. Denomination in dark red at all four corners. In circulation: A commemorative design marking the hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the 1830 constitution, circulating through the inflationary 1980s as one of the higher nuevo peso values. The nuevo peso gave way to the peso uruguayo in 1993 at a thousand to one, and notes of this family were withdrawn. Details: Issuer: Banco Central del Uruguay | Currency: Peso ($U) | Denomination: Five Thousand Pesos | Collected: on the Uruguay journey, 1997 | Series: Ley Nº 14.316, Serie C | Signature: Three: Presidente, Gerente General and Secretario General ### Venezuela — 12 notes (Bolívar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela/ #### Bs2 — Two Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-2/ The artwork, front: Francisco de Miranda in three-quarter profile, named in small type up the right edge, his coat and stock rendered in fine engraved line against pale blue and orange guilloche. The left panel carries "República Bolivariana de Venezuela", the red numeral 2 and "DOS BOLÍVARES", with the promise to pay the bearer at the bank's offices and the date 29 de octubre de 2013 beneath the two signatures. Red serials, prefix T, top left and lower right. The artwork, back: Two Amazon river dolphins — toninas — swim across a warm orange field of underwater vegetation, the adult with its long beak open, a calf below. The national arms sit at the left in red and blue; "Banco Central de Venezuela" runs across the top in dark serif capitals. A small caption names the species and the Médanos de Coro national park; at right, the numeral 2 shaded from blue to red above "DOS BOLÍVARES".. In circulation: Part of the bolívar fuerte family introduced in 2008 after the 1,000:1 redenomination, this printing carries the 29 October 2013 date. Runaway inflation stripped the two-bolívar note of any real use, and the whole series was retired in August 2018 when the bolívar soberano arrived at 100,000:1. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Two Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Bolívar fuerte, dated 29 de octubre de 2013 | Signature: Presidente BCV and Primer Vicepresidente BCV | Dimensions: 156 × 69 mm #### Bs5 — Five Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-5/ The artwork, front: A dark engraved head, wrapped in cloth, set against pale rock-art figures — running animals and stick-limbed hunters in white and rust that spill across the whole width of the note. This is Pedro Camejo, the lancer known as Negro Primero, of whom no life portrait survives. To the left, "República Bolivariana de Venezuela" and "Cinco Bolívares" in upright type, with the two bank signatures and the date 20 de marzo de 2007. The artwork, back: Two giant armadillos, adult and young, walking nose-down through llanos grass, captioned in small type as Cuspón (Cabasú Gigante), Los Llanos. Behind them a wash of red-brown gallery trees and yellow palm fronds fills the corners. The national arms sit at the left, "Banco Central de Venezuela" runs across the top, and a large 5 with CINCO BOLÍVARES anchors the right. In circulation: Part of the bolívar fuerte family that came into use on 1 January 2008, when 1,000 old bolívares became one new one. It circulated through the following decade until the 2018 redenomination swept it away, the bolívar soberano replacing it at 100,000 to one. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Five Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Bolívar fuerte, dated 20 de marzo de 2007 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela | Signature: Presidente del BCV and Primer Vicepresidente del BCV | Security: Serial with single-letter prefix, black at upper left and red at lower right #### Bs10 — Ten Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-10/ The artwork, front: Guaicaipuro, the Teque cacique who led the resistance against the Spanish in the valleys around Caracas, named in small type at the right edge. He wears a woven headband and feathers, with spears and indigenous pottery and basketry patterns worked into the background. To the left, "República Bolivariana de Venezuela", the value as "DIEZ BOLÍVARES", the promise payable to bearer at the Bank's offices, and the two Bank signatures. The artwork, back: A harpy eagle, labelled "Águila Arpía", perched in profile with its double crest raised, drawn against the Ucaimá falls and the Venado and Kurún tepuis of Canaima National Park — the caption spells all of it out along the lower edge. "Banco Central de Venezuela" runs across the top left, the national coat of arms sits in the left panel, and a large red-and-blue 10 with "DIEZ BOLÍVARES" closes the right. In circulation: Part of the bolívar fuerte family introduced at the start of 2008, this piece carrying the 3 September 2009 date. The design stayed in use until the 2018 redenomination, when the bolívar soberano and its own new note series took over and these were withdrawn. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Ten Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela, for the República Bolivariana de Venezuela | Series: Bolívar fuerte, dated 3 de septiembre de 2009 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela | Signature: Presidente del BCV and Primer Vicepresidente del BCV | Security: Blue iridescent band at the right of the face bearing 10 and the name GUAICAIPURO; serial number printed twice, black at upper left and red at lower right #### Bs50 — Fifty Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-50/ The artwork, front: Simón Rodríguez in profile, the Caracas tutor who taught the young Bolívar, shown with his round spectacles pushed up on his forehead and hair swept back. The left half carries the denomination as a large grey 50 over the words CINCUENTA BOLÍVARES, the promise to pay the bearer at the Bank's offices, the date 5 de noviembre de 2015, and two signatures. A windowed thread lettered BCV 50 runs down the centre. The artwork, back: An oso frontino — the spectacled bear, South America's only bear — standing four-square and snarling against the olive ridges of the Parque Nacional Sierra Nevada, named in small print beneath its feet. Venezuela's coat of arms with its white horse sits at the left in warm brown, the bank's name arches across the top, and a bold 50 with CINCUENTA BOLÍVARES fills the pale right-hand panel..uerte In circulation: Part of the bolívar fuerte family introduced in 2008 after the thousand-to-one redenomination, this 50 was reprinted through the decade — hence the November 2015 date. Runaway inflation made it worthless long before it was formally retired by the bolívar soberano of August 2018, which struck five more zeros from the currency. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Fifty Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Bolívar fuerte; dated 5 de noviembre de 2015 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela | Security: Windowed security thread with repeating BCV 50 text | Signature: Presidente del BCV and Primer Vicepresidente del BCV #### Bs100 — One Hundred Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-100/ The artwork, front: Simón Bolívar in three-quarter profile, in high-collared uniform with epaulettes, engraved in deep claret over a pale ground of laurel and olive foliage. The left panel carries In circulation: x Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: One Hundred Bolívars #### Bs500 — Five Hundred Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-500/ The artwork, front: Francisco de Miranda, precursor of Venezuelan independence, engraved three-quarter face with his name in small capitals running up the right-hand panel. The denomination stands large at left in slanted numerals over "QUINIENTOS BOLÍVARES", above the pledge to pay the bearer at the bank's offices and two signatures. A star-shaped see-through register at top left carries the half-image of a dolphin; a segmented thread crosses the middle. The artwork, back: "Banco Central de Venezuela" across the top, the national coat of arms at left with its wheatsheaf, weapons and galloping white horse. The main vignette is a pair of toninas — Amazon river dolphins — one adult swimming above a smaller companion, over sea-fan and coral forms. Small caption text names the toninas and the flower worm of Médanos de Coro National Park. The 500 sits large at right. In circulation: Dated 23 March 2017 and part of the enlarged bolívar fuerte family issued as inflation outran the older notes. Its working life was brief: on 20 August 2018 the bolívar soberano replaced the fuerte at 100,000 to one, and this 500 ceased to be money almost as soon as it reached tills. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Five Hundred Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Bolívar fuerte, dated 23 de marzo de 2017 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela (microtext on the reverse) | Signature: Presidente BCV and Primer Vicepresidente BCV | Security: Segmented windowed thread; star-shaped see-through register completing a dolphin; serial number in black at upper left and red at lower right #### Bs1000 — One Thousand Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-1000/ The artwork, front: Pedro Camejo — "Negro Primero", the lancer of the llanos who fell at Carabobo — in three-quarter profile, plum-purple against pale greens and blues, with his name set vertically in the dark panel at right beside the large 1000. The left half carries "República Bolivariana de Venezuela", MIL BOLÍVARES, the date 10 de Agosto de 2016, and the two signatures for Presidente and Primer Vicepresidente of the BCV. The artwork, back: Two giant armadillos on the move through open llanos woodland, the adult with its banded carapace and long tail rendered in fine engraved scales, a smaller animal behind; the caption reads "Cuspón (Cachicamo Gigante) / Los Llanos". The national arms sit at the left over columns of repeated 1000s, with "Banco Central de Venezuela" across the top and 1000 MIL BOLÍVARES filling the right. In circulation: Part of the enlarged high-denomination range added to the bolívar fuerte family at the end of 2016, when inflation had outrun the old 100 as the top note. It circulated briefly and was demonetised in August 2018, when the bolívar soberano replaced it at 100,000 to one. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: One Thousand Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Dated 10 de Agosto de 2016 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela | Signature: Presidente BCV and Primer Vicepresidente BCV | Security: Windowed security thread repeating 1000; serial A44962951 printed twice on the face #### Bs2000 — Two Thousand Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-2000/ The artwork, front: Guaicaipuro in three-quarter profile, named in small capitals up the brown right-hand band — the Teque cacique who led the resistance to the Spanish in the valleys around Caracas. Arrows and indigenous ornament fill the ground behind him. The denomination runs large down the left in the pale unprinted field, above DOS MIL BOLÍVARES, the date 18 de agosto de 2016 and the two bank signatures. The artwork, back: A harpy eagle, labelled Águila Arpía, perched and staring straight out, set against a soft brown landscape of the Ucaima falls and the Venado and Kurún tepuis in Canaima National Park. The national coat of arms sits at the left over columns of small 2000s; the right-hand panel carries 2000 and DOS MIL BOLÍVARES in deep plum. In circulation: One of the higher denominations rushed out as inflation outran the existing notes, entering circulation from the start of 2017. It lasted barely eighteen months: the reconversion of 20 August 2018 knocked five zeros off the currency and replaced the whole bolívar fuerte family with bolívar soberano notes. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Two Thousand Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Dated 18 de agosto de 2016 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela | Signature: Presidente del BCV and Primer Vicepresidente del BCV #### Bs5000 — Five Thousand Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-5000/ The artwork, front: Luisa Cáceres de Arismendi, named in small capitals up the right edge — the young Margariteña heroine of the independence wars, imprisoned in the fortress of Santa Rosa. She is drawn as a sculpted bust in warm brown against pale green, with orchids and foliage worked into the background. The left panel carries a large ghosted 5000, the value spelled CINCO MIL BOLÍVARES, and the date 18 de agosto de 2016. The artwork, back: Two hawksbill turtles — tortuga carey — swimming over the shallows, with the dry Macanao mountains of Margarita rising behind them; the caption names the Parque Nacional Laguna de la Restinga. The national arms with its white horse sit at the left in deep green. The right-hand panel is plain, holding a star, a small turtle device and a bold 5000 above CINCO MIL BOLÍVARES.ívares. In circulation: Part of the high-value extension to the bolívar fuerte family, announced at the end of 2016 and put into circulation in early 2017 as inflation outran the older notes. It lasted barely eighteen months: the bolívar soberano arrived on 20 August 2018 at one hundred thousand to one, and these were withdrawn. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Five Thousand Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Dated 18 de agosto de 2016 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela | Signature: Presidente BCV and Primer Vicepresidente BCV #### Bs10000 — Ten Thousand Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-10000/ The artwork, front: A clean-shaven civilian in a dark coat, hair swept back in waves, a pince-nez on a slender handle raised beside his face — Simón Rodríguez, Bolívar's tutor. The left third carries stylised petroglyph figures and geometric line-work in blue and jade over a pale watermark panel, with "República Bolivariana de Venezuela" set vertically, the value in words, "Diez Mil Bolívares", and the promise to pay the bearer at the Bank's offices. The artwork, back: An oso frontino — the Andean spectacled bear, captioned "Parque Nacional Sierra Nevada" — stands broadside in fine engraved line, muzzle open, against blue ridge-lines of the Mérida cordillera. "Banco Central de Venezuela" runs across the top left above the national arms; the columns of small 10000s frame both edges, and a large 10000 with "Diez Mil Bolívares" fills the right. A star and hand-motif device sits top right. In circulation: Part of the high-value extension to the bolívar fuerte announced at the end of 2016, when inflation had left the 100 as the largest note. It served barely eighteen months: the redenomination of 20 August 2018 swept away the whole fuerte family at 100,000 to one, this note becoming ten céntimos of the new bolívar soberano. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Ten Thousand Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Dated 18 de agosto de 2016; serial A05830173, single-letter prefix, black at upper left and red at lower right | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela (marked vertically at the right edge of the back) | Signature: Presidente BCV and Primer Vicepresidente BCV | Security: Segmented windowed thread reading "BCV 10"; raised tactile dots for the blind at lower centre of the face #### Bs20000 — Twenty Thousand Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-20000/ The artwork, front: A young woman in three-quarter view fills the right half, hair dressed with a plain fillet — Luisa Cáceres de Arismendi, the independence-era heroine imprisoned during the fighting on Margarita. Left of her, VEINTE MIL BOLÍVARES beneath a tall green 20000, the promise to pay at the Bank's offices, and the date 18 de agosto de 2016. A broad segmented window strip runs vertically, repeating the value; raised dots for the blind sit low and centre, with serial A15480058 in black and red. The artwork, back: Two cardenalitos — the red siskin, once Venezuela's most trafficked songbird — perched on a leafy branch, the ridge of El Ávila rising in warm ochre behind them, captioned in small type "Cardenalitos / Parque Nacional El Ávila". Banco Central de Venezuela runs across the top left, with the national arms, the white horse quartered in the shield, printed in orange-red beside it. A large 20000 and VEINTE MIL BOLÍVARES anchor the pale right-hand panel. notes bear the mint's name vertically at the edge. In circulation: One of the emergency high denominations run out at the end of 2016 as hyperinflation outstripped the existing bolívar fuerte notes; it reached tills through 2017. On 20 August 2018 the bolívar soberano replaced the fuerte at 100,000 to one, reducing this 20,000 to twenty céntimos and retiring the design. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: Twenty Thousand Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Bolívar fuerte, dated 18 de agosto de 2016 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela (named on the back) | Security: Wide segmented window strip repeating 20000; raised tactile dots on the face | Signature: Presidente BCV and Primer Vicepresidente BCV #### Bs100000 — One Hundred Thousand Bolívars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/venezuela-100000/ The artwork, front: Simón Bolívar in the familiar three-quarter profile, in high uniform collar, engraved in grey against yellow-green and pale peach guilloches of stylised leaves and flowers. The denomination reads vertically at left — a large 100 over CIEN MIL BOLÍVARES — beneath the country name, República Bolivariana de Venezuela. A blue-violet panel at right carries 100 twice and Bolívar's name in microtype; serial numbers appear in black above and red below. The artwork, back: Two cardenalitos — red siskins — perched on a leafy branch above scrubby hillside, captioned Cardenalitos, Parque Nacional El Ávila. The little finch is Venezuela's own, trapped almost to extinction for the cage-bird trade. The national arms sit at left in warm brown, Banco Central de Venezuela across the top, and the value in brown at right against pale blue: 100, CIEN MIL BOLÍVARES. In circulation: Dated 7 September 2017 and issued that November as the top note of the bolívar fuerte, a denomination born of runaway inflation. It lasted barely a year: the redenomination of August 2018 cut five zeroes, and this 100,000 became one bolívar soberano before being demonetised outright. Details: Currency: Bolívar (Bs) | Denomination: One Hundred Thousand Bolívars | Issuer: Banco Central de Venezuela | Series: Bolívar Fuerte, dated 7 September 2017 | Printer: Casa de la Moneda de Venezuela | Signature: Presidente and Primer Vicepresidente del BCV | Dimensions: 156 × 69 mm ### Vietnam — 6 notes (Dong) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/vietnam/ #### ₫500 — Five Hundred Dong URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/vietnam-500/ The artwork, front: Ho Chi Minh in three-quarter profile at the right, the familiar high-browed head and wispy beard, worked in fine red-brown line engraving. At the left, the national arms — star over a rice-ear wreath with VIỆT NAM on the scroll — set in a pale grey field of scrolling ornament. Lotus blossoms run along the foot, the value written out as NĂM TRĂM ĐỒNG in tall block capitals, with 500 at each corner and 1988 below. Serial DH 5423500 in red. The artwork, back: A working harbour: dockside gantry cranes leaning over the bows of moored freighters, one flying a flag at the masthead, a tug and further vessels ranged along the quay, lorries on the wharf and hills behind. The issuer's name, NGÂN HÀNG NHÀ NƯỚC VIỆT NAM, arches across the top in red; NĂM TRĂM ĐỒNG sits bottom right, with 500 in the upper right and lower left panels. In circulation: Dated 1988 and issued as part of the State Bank's late-1980s family of notes, it circulated through the years of runaway inflation that quickly stripped it of buying power. Larger denominations soon carried everyday trade, and a 500 dong coin followed in 2003; the note survives as legal tender in name only. Details: Issuer: Ngân Hàng Nhà Nước Việt Nam (State Bank of Vietnam) | Currency: Dong (₫) | Denomination: Five Hundred Dong | Collected: on the Vietnam journey, 2009 | Series: Dated 1988; serial prefix of two letters and seven digits (DH 5423500) #### ₫1000 — One Thousand Dong URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/vietnam-1000/ The artwork, front: Hồ Chí Minh at right, the familiar late portrait with thin beard and buttoned collar, set against a rosette of stippled ornament. Above, the state arms — star over rice ears and cogwheel — rising on a fan of engraved sunrays, with CỘNG HÒA XÃ HỘI CHỦ NGHĨA VIỆT NAM arched over it. A large scrolled cartouche carries 1000 across the left half, MỘT NGHÌN ĐỒNG spelt out below, and 1988 in the lower margin. Red serial, prefix EC. Stylised clouds and dragons fill the corners. The artwork, back: NGÂN HÀNG NHÀ NƯỚC VIỆT NAM across the top, and beneath it a finely engraved logging scene: a mahout astride a working elephant hauling felled timber down a track in the Central Highlands, a second man standing by the stacked logs at right. Numeral 1000 at lower left, MỘT NGHÌN ĐỒNG at lower right, a guilloche panel in blue and ochre down the right edge and rolling cloud scrolls in the corners. In circulation: Part of the reform coinage and notes that followed Vietnam's 1985 currency change, this large-format 1,000 đồng went into use at the end of the 1980s. Steady inflation soon left it as small change, and it gave way to the smaller 1,000 đồng note — which kept the same elephant-logging vignette — still met by travellers today. Details: Issuer: Ngân Hàng Nhà Nước Việt Nam (State Bank of Vietnam) | Currency: Dong (₫) | Denomination: One Thousand Dong | Collected: on the Vietnam journey, 2009 | Series: Dated 1988 | Security: Red serial number, prefix EC, on the face #### ₫2000 — Two Thousand Dong URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/vietnam-2000/ In circulation: Came home from the Vietnam journey of 2009 — one of 6 Vietnam notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: State Bank of Vietnam | Currency: Dong (₫) | Denomination: Two Thousand Dong | Collected: on the Vietnam journey, 2009 #### ₫5000 — Five Thousand Dong URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/vietnam-5000/ The artwork, front: Hồ Chí Minh in later life, bearded and in a plain collarless jacket, set in an oval frame at the right with a lotus blossom beneath him and the date 1991 below that. The state emblem — star, rice ears and cogwheel — sits at the upper left, with the country's full name, Cộng Hòa Xã Hội Chủ Nghĩa Việt Nam, arched across the top. Serial number in red, twice. The value reads 5000 and Năm Nghìn Đồng. The artwork, back: The Trị An hydroelectric station on the Đồng Nai river: powerhouse and sluice gates under construction, gantry cranes overhead, and a march of lattice pylons carrying transmission lines away over the hills to the left. Blue-grey engraving on olive and cream. Ngân Hàng Nhà Nước Việt Nam runs along the top in a patterned panel, with 5000 in each corner and Năm Nghìn Đồng repeated at lower left. In circulation: A 1991-dated note of the reformed đồng, put into circulation in the early 1990s. Unlike the higher values, which moved to polymer from 2003, the 5,000 đồng was never redesigned — it remains legal tender and is still handed over daily in markets, though inflation has reduced it to small change. Details: Issuer: Ngân Hàng Nhà Nước Việt Nam (State Bank of Vietnam) | Currency: Dong (₫) | Denomination: Five Thousand Dong | Collected: on the Vietnam journey, 2009 | Series: Dated 1991 | Security: Red serial number printed twice on the face, two-letter prefix (AM); see-through diamond register device at the left of the face and right of the back #### ₫10000 — Ten Thousand Dong URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/vietnam-10000/ The artwork, front: Hồ Chí Minh at right, the familiar late portrait with high forehead and thin beard, engraved in deep maroon over green and rose guilloche. Above left, the state title "CỘNG HÒA XÃ HỘI CHỦ NGHĨA VIỆT NAM" over the national emblem — star within rice ears — then the value spelt out as "MƯỜI NGHÌN ĐỒNG" and a heavy green 10000. Red serials run vertically and horizontally; a clear polymer window sits at right. The artwork, back: "NGÂN HÀNG NHÀ NƯỚC VIỆT NAM" across the top, and below it a maroon engraving of offshore production platforms — the Bạch Hổ (White Tiger) field in the South China Sea, Vietnam's oil mainstay — walkways, flare stack and cranes rising from pale green water, with a further rig faint on the horizon. "MƯỜI NGHÌN ĐỒNG" and 10.000 sit over gold banding above a patterned base panel. In circulation: Part of the polymer family that replaced Vietnam's cotton-paper notes through the 2000s, this 10,000 đồng appeared in 2006 and took over from the paper note of the same value, which was progressively withdrawn. It remains legal tender and in everyday use, unchanged in design. Details: Issuer: Ngân hàng Nhà nước Việt Nam (State Bank of Vietnam) | Currency: Dong (₫) | Denomination: Ten Thousand Dong | Collected: on the Vietnam journey, 2009 | Series: Polymer issue, introduced 2006 | Security: Polymer substrate with clear window; see-through register printed in green and gold at upper left of the front | Dimensions: 132 × 60 mm #### ₫20000 — Twenty Thousand Dong URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/vietnam-20000/ The artwork, front: Hồ Chí Minh at right, white-bearded and in a high-collared jacket, engraved in deep blue against pale green and apricot guilloche. Above, the state title CỘNG HÒA XÃ HỘI CHỦ NGHĨA VIỆT NAM; below it the national arms, the star and cogwheel ringed by rice ears. The value is spelled HAI MƯƠI NGHÌN ĐỒNG and repeated as 20.000 in shaded numerals. Red vertical serial at left, black horizontal at lower right, and a lotus-shaped clear window. The artwork, back: The Japanese Covered Bridge at Hội An — Chùa Cầu — drawn side-on in blue over a warm ochre ground, its tiled roof, timber balustrade and stone arches rising from the creek, with the small shrine pavilion projecting at the right and palms behind. NGÂN HÀNG NHÀ NƯỚC VIỆT NAM runs along the top. The value appears again in words and figures, and the lotus window sits at the left. In circulation: Part of the polymer series issued from 2003 onward, this 20,000 đồng came into circulation in 2006 in place of the earlier cotton-paper note of the same value. It remains legal tender and in everyday use, the polymer notes having entirely displaced the older paper issues at the higher denominations. Details: Issuer: Ngân hàng Nhà nước Việt Nam — State Bank of Vietnam | Currency: Dong (₫) | Denomination: Twenty Thousand Dong | Collected: on the Vietnam journey, 2009 | Series: Polymer issue, from 2006 | Watermark: Shadow portrait of Hồ Chí Minh | Security: Polymer substrate with a lotus-shaped transparent window; see-through register | Dimensions: 148 × 65 mm ### Zaire — 6 notes (Zaïre) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zaire/ #### Z50 — Fifty Zaïres URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zaire-50/ In circulation: Came home from the Zaire journey of 1992 — one of 6 Zaire notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Banque du Zaïre | Currency: Zaïre (Z) | Denomination: Fifty Zaïres | Collected: on the Zaire journey, 1992 #### Z500 — Five Hundred Zaïres URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zaire-500/ In circulation: Came home from the Zaire journey of 1992 — one of 6 Zaire notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Banque du Zaïre | Currency: Zaïre (Z) | Denomination: Five Hundred Zaïres | Collected: on the Zaire journey, 1992 #### Z20000 — Twenty Thousand Zaïres URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zaire-20000/ The artwork, front: Mobutu Sese Seko at right in the marshal's peaked cap and heavy black spectacles that were his uniform for three decades, in the abacost collar. A leopard bounds across the lower field — his other emblem — while the arms of Zaïre, a leopard's head over crossed spear and arrow with the motto JUSTICE PAIX TRAVAIL, sit in a roundel. Titles read BANQUE DU ZAÏRE and VINGT MILLE ZAÏRES, dated 1·7·1991 above the governor's signature. The artwork, back: The headquarters of the Banque du Zaïre in Kinshasa, drawn in rose and grey: a tall slab of window bays with its name cut into the façade, a low canopied wing and a screen of trees running to the right. Fanned palm forms rise behind. A large 20000 crowns the panel, repeated at foot beside BANQUE DU ZAÏRE, with the counterfeiter's warning and a BZ monogram on the blank margin. In circulation: Issued from the 1 July 1991 date as inflation tore through the currency, this 20,000-zaïre note was among the last of the old-zaïre denominations before still larger values followed. The 1993 reform swept them all away, replacing the zaïre with the nouveau zaïre at three million to one. Details: Issuer: Banque du Zaïre | Currency: Zaïre (Z) | Denomination: Twenty Thousand Zaïres | Collected: on the Zaire journey, 1992 | Series: Dated 1 July 1991 | Printer: Hôtel des Monnaies, Zaïre (imprint at foot of back) | Signature: Single signature, titled Le Gouverneur | Security: Printed warning on the back: LE CONTREFACTEUR EST PUNI DE SERVITUDE PENALE #### Z50000 — Fifty Thousand Zaïres URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zaire-50000-j063/ The artwork, front: Mobutu Sese Seko in marshal's uniform and peaked cap, the heavy spectacles and set jaw familiar from thirty years of Zairean money. Behind him the arms of Zaire — a leopard's head above crossed spear and arrows. A leopard stretches along the lower band, and the panel above reads BANQUE DU ZAIRE / CINQUANTE MILLE ZAIRES, dated 24-4-1991 with the Governor's signature beneath. The artwork, back: A silverback gorilla dominates the field, seated among dense forest foliage, with a second adult, a juvenile and an infant to the left. The small caption names him: MAHESHE, du Parc Kahuzi-Biega, the eastern lowland gorilla group in the Kivu highlands. Greens and blues throughout, the value in figures at both upper left and lower centre, with the counterfeiting warning top right. In circulation: Dated 24 April 1991 and issued as inflation ran away with the zaïre; within two years far larger denominations had followed it. The currency was swept aside in October 1993 by the nouveau zaïre, which itself gave way to the Congolese franc in 1998, after the country had reverted to the name Congo. Details: Issuer: Banque du Zaïre | Currency: Zaïre (Z) | Denomination: Fifty Thousand Zaïres | Collected: on the Zaire journey, 1992 | Series: Dated 24-4-1991; serial J 0634577 K | Signature: Single signature, Le Gouverneur | Security: Printed warning on the reverse: LE CONTREFACTEUR EST PUNI DE SERVITUDE PENALE #### Z500000 — Five Hundred Thousand Zaïres URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zaire-500000-a747/ The artwork, front: Mobutu Sese Seko in marshal's cap and heavy dark glasses, the abacost collar just visible beneath the braid — the portrait that fronted every Zaïrean note of the era. Below him, a leopard bounds across the field, the president's own emblem, and to the right the arms of Zaïre with their leopard's head, arrow and spear. The value is set out in figures three times and spelled "CINQ CENT MILLE ZAÏRES", over the date 15-3-1992 and the Governor's signature. The artwork, back: The Inga hydroelectric dam on the lower Congo, drawn from downstream: the spillway wall stepping away to the right, penstocks running down to the powerhouse, cloud piled behind the hills. Inga was the regime's showpiece of industrial ambition, and it appears here in fine brown line engraving. A large guilloche rosette fills the right of the panel, with "BANQUE DU ZAÏRE" and the figure 500.000 along the foot. In circulation: Issued from 1992, in the middle of Zaïre's runaway inflation, when denominations climbed from thousands to millions within a couple of years. It was swept away in October 1993 by the nouveau zaïre, exchanged at three million old zaïres to one, and the currency itself gave way to the Congolese franc in 1997. Details: Issuer: Banque du Zaïre | Currency: Zaïre (Z) | Denomination: Five Hundred Thousand Zaïres | Collected: on the Zaire journey, 1992 | Series: Dated 15 March 1992; serial LA 7470058 F, letter prefix and suffix | Printer: Giesecke & Devrient, Munich (imprint at lower left of the back) | Signature: Single signature, titled Le Gouverneur | Security: Counterfeiting warning on the back: "LE CONTREFACTEUR EST PUNI DE SERVITUDE PENALE" #### Z1m — One Million Zaïres URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zaire-1m/ The artwork, front: Mobutu Sese Seko in his marshal's peaked cap and heavy horn-rimmed glasses, filling the right third of the note against a fan of red guilloche and the vertical denomination. Below him the arms of Zaïre — a leopard's head between arrow and spear. A leopard springs across the lower centre, above the date 31-7-1992 and the governor's signature. "Banque du Zaïre — un million de zaïres" heads the panel. The artwork, back: The suspension bridge at Matadi over the Congo, seen from the bank in dusky violet: towers, cable curves and the deck running away between low hills, with a cargo vessel below. A large green and blue rosette overlaps the vignette on the right. "Banque du Zaïre 1.000.000" runs along the foot, with the counterfeiting warning set small in the top right corner. In circulation: A creature of Zaïre's hyperinflation: dated 31 July 1992 and worth little by the time it was spent. In October 1993 the currency was reformed, the nouveau zaïre replacing the old unit at three million to one, and notes of this series were swept away wholesale. Details: Issuer: Banque du Zaïre | Currency: Zaïre (Z) | Denomination: One Million Zaïres | Collected: on the Zaire journey, 1992 | Series: Dated 31 July 1992 | Printer: Giesecke & Devrient, Munich | Signature: Le Gouverneur — single signature | Security: Printed warning on the back: "Le contrefacteur est puni de servitude pénale" ### Zambia — 3 notes (Kwacha) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zambia/ #### ZK20 — Twenty Kwacha URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zambia-20/ The artwork, front: Kenneth Kaunda in a patterned tunic fills the right third, the face turned slightly out — Zambia's founding president, whose likeness carried every note until the multiparty era. An African fish eagle stoops on a fish at left, over a plain oval reserved for the watermark; a butterfly and bands of geometric weave-pattern sit behind the value. Below, the arms of Zambia with the motto 'One Zambia, One Nation'. The artwork, back: A quiet green panorama. At left the Freedom Statue in Lusaka — the figure of a man snapping the chains above his head, cast for independence. Behind it a colonnaded government building with shuttered windows and clipped shrubs, a tall palm to the right. An antelope head occupies the lower-left cartouche, a carved wooden mask the right margin, with K20 in each corner. In circulation: Part of the Kaunda-portrait series issued from the late 1980s. The design did not outlast his presidency: after the 1991 election the Bank of Zambia dropped the portrait, and from 1992 the twenty kwacha appeared with the fish eagle alone as the face of the note. Details: Issuer: Bank of Zambia — 'I promise to pay the bearer on demand Twenty Kwacha' | Currency: Kwacha (ZK) | Denomination: Twenty Kwacha | Collected: on the Zambia journeys, 1992–1993 | Signature: Single signature, titled Governor | Watermark: Head of an African fish eagle, in the oval at left | Security: Matching serial numbers, prefix in fraction style (A/G), printed upper left and lower right #### ZK100 — One Hundred Kwacha URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zambia-100/ In circulation: Came home from the Zambia journeys of 1992–1993 — one of 3 Zambia notes in the collection. Details: Issuer: Bank of Zambia | Currency: Kwacha (ZK) | Denomination: One Hundred Kwacha | Collected: on the Zambia journeys, 1992–1993 #### ZK10000 — Ten Thousand Kwacha URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zambia-10000/ The artwork, front: An African fish eagle, white head and breast against slate blue, gripping a bare branch — the bird that stands for Zambia on every denomination. Behind the lettering, a broad spreading tree and open bush. "BANK OF ZAMBIA" runs across the top, with "I PROMISE TO PAY THE BEARER ON DEMAND / TEN THOUSAND KWACHA" and a single Governor's signature. Lower left, the national arms in a roundel dated 2003; beside it a foil eagle patch printed over with repeated K10000. The artwork, back: Three Zambian subjects side by side. At left a crested porcupine in deep maroon, quills raised, above a band of woven basketwork pattern. In the centre, in green, labourers cutting and stooking a crop in a field. At right the Freedom Statue in Lusaka — the figure straining to break the chains that hang from his wrists, the memorial to the independence struggle. "TEN THOUSAND KWACHA" sits in the lower left panel. In circulation: Zambia's highest denomination through the 2000s, this 2003-dated printing circulated until the kwacha was rebased on 1 January 2013, when 1,000 old kwacha became one new kwacha. The K10,000 was effectively replaced by the new 10-kwacha note, and the old currency ceased to be legal tender that June. Details: Issuer: Bank of Zambia | Currency: Kwacha (ZK) | Denomination: Ten Thousand Kwacha | Collected: on the Zambia journeys, 1992–1993 | Series: Dated 2003, arms roundel at lower left | Printer: Thomas De La Rue and Company Limited, named on the back | Signature: One signature, Governor | Security: Foil eagle patch overprinted with repeated K10000; iridescent bird device at left ### Zimbabwe — 2 notes (Dollar) URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zimbabwe/ #### Z$5 — Five Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zimbabwe-5/ The artwork, front: Green and buff, with the Chiremba Balancing Rocks at Epworth outside Harare stacked in improbable order above scrub and msasa — the geological oddity that became the Reserve Bank's emblem on paper money. At left a Burchell's zebra stands in grass beneath the promise to pay FIVE DOLLARS, the governor's signature (K. Moyana) and the place and date line, HARARE 1983. Serial BA 4442581 K in black at upper left and lower right. The artwork, back: A communal-lands scene in fine intaglio: two women in headcloths at a wooden mortar, pounding grain with long pestles, a basket beside them. Behind rise thatched pole-and-dagga huts and a shaded granary, chickens scratching in the swept yard, and beyond a fenced gate the ploughed and planted fields run back to a low hill. Colour is restrained — olive and green with a woven band of ochre, blue and red at left and along the foot. In circulation: The first family of notes issued after independence, dated variously 1980 to 1983 and circulating through the decade. Superseded by the redesigned series of the mid-1990s, which kept the Balancing Rocks motif but reworked the whole face; inflation later swept the five-dollar denomination away entirely. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe | Currency: Dollar (Z$) | Denomination: Five Dollars | Collected: on the Zimbabwe journey, 1992 | Series: First independence issue, dated Harare 1983 | Signature: K. Moyana, Governor | Watermark: Zimbabwe Bird #### Z$20 — Twenty Dollars URL: https://www.traveller.org/currency/zimbabwe-20/ The artwork, front: Across the right, the granite Balancing Rocks at Epworth outside Harare — three weathered boulders stacked by erosion alone, rising out of low scrub. On the left a giraffe stands among msasa trees, browsing at the canopy. Between them the promise to pay, "TWENTY DOLLARS" in shaded capitals, the Governor's signature, and the place and date line: HARARE 1983. Serial DA 4945532 M appears twice. The artwork, back: An African bull elephant, head-on and tusked, framed within an oval of engraved lines, with Victoria Falls behind: the sheer basalt lip, the curtain of water dropping into the gorge, and green bush clinging to the rim. Overhanging branches close the right-hand side. "RESERVE BANK OF ZIMBABWE" runs along the top, with large 20s in the bottom corners. In circulation: Part of the first Zimbabwe dollar family introduced after independence, this twenty was printed through the 1980s and early 1990s before a wholly redesigned series took over from 1994. Later reprints and then the hyperinflation-era revaluations from 2006 onward swept the old notes away entirely. Details: Issuer: Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe | Currency: Dollar (Z$) | Denomination: Twenty Dollars | Collected: on the Zimbabwe journey, 1992 | Series: First Zimbabwe dollar issue, dated Harare 1983 | Signature: K. J. Moyana, Governor | Watermark: Zimbabwe Bird