Thurs 12th March: Javan coffee, Volcanoes and Mistair Alex Fergee

We arrived in Probolinggo around 3am. By my clock it was 4am but I didn't realise the was an hours difference between Bali and Java. I had asked the driver to drop me off at the bus station where I would wait until 6am to get a bus up to Cemoro Lawang high up in the mountains. The driver, however drops me off at his company offices in town. Before I realise it I'm discussing a combination ticket up to Cemoro Lawang and on to Surakarta (Solo) for tomorrow. I'm very tired so I'm equally suspicious of the guy. I don't trust anyone offering deals at 4am in the morning or geezers who call me 'my friend'. However the deal turns out to be ok once its broken down.

I have to wait in the office for an hour or so while we wait on the transport. There's a tv on showing Man U v Inter Milan in the Champions League. There's a group of lads in watching it struggling to stay awake at this hour. THere's been a couple of bets put on the game and the guy I've been dealing with has lost 50,000 (EU 3.00). I wonder has he bumped an extra 50,000 on to my ticket to cover his losses. THis is what I've hated about the backpacking. If I was on my bike none of this double dealing/second guessing would occur. I'd be doing my own thing.

One of the lads brings me a freshly brewed cup of local Javan coffee. I sit back to relax and watch the game. The match is into the 2nd half when I start watching. I think Man U are already 1-0 up. There's a local Indonesian commentator calling the match for this station. The only thing I can understand as I sip my Javan coffee are the repeated references to 'Mistair Alex Fergee'. I begin to enjoy the heady mix of coffee and Fergee at 3.30am in Java. Man U seemed to have a smooth blend over the full roasted Inter and by the final whistle the full ground with fans full of beans with the win Mistair Alex Fergee could no doubt savour the flavour of another decaffinated victory with Jose Mourinho......., Actually........... isn't it fine Maderan wine they tend to drink together, or was that just sour grapes???? Whats that??.... a little milk and one sugar, please. Thanks.

By 4.30am I'm taken by motorbike 6km out to the edge of town to meet a minibus heading for the mountains. I'm on the back while the rider balances my rucksack between his knees at the front. It all feels so clandestine. Negotiations at 3am. Predawn rides to meet an unknown contact on the edge of town. Lads, to be fair. All I want to do is see a volcanoe not hidden treasure.!!! I'm dropped off at the local market where the driver is waiting to fill up with housewives who have come into town to buy produce at the market. The market, at this hour, is in full swing. BOth sides of the road are lined with stalls or groundsheets arrayed with fruit, veg or cereals. Women walk about gracefully with their shopping in baskets upon their heads. The dim light of dawn increases as pink streaks light up the sky with the sunrise. The market is lovely and cool with no sun beating down and trade is brisk. The market will be well finished by 9am and before the real heat of the day has kicked in.

Passengers are rounded up. The larger, buky luggage gets stowed on the roof while the smaller baskets come into the main cab. A woman sitting beside me has a selection of fruit and veg I have never seen before. Finally we leave for the mountains. FOr the next 90 mins we climb through some fairly dramatic scenery. THere is some fairly intensive agriculture here. Rice paddies give way to every concievable type vegetable. Onions, carrots, Potatoes, cabbages, vegetables I don't recognise all stretch up the sides of the valleys. The landscape is a mottled chequerbpard pattern of greens and browns. People in the fields tending the crops are bent down low as they work diligently. We stop in each small village along the way, dropping people off, picking people up. Some schoolkids get on. The older lads clamber up onto the roof. We pass groups of children in uniform walking along the roadside to school. Each school has its own uniform. All the kids are turned out immaculately.

I have to change minibuses at Sukapura and we're off on the last leg of the journey. We're in the high mountain valleys now. We pass through the pretty village of Ngadisiri and crawl the remaining 3km up steep mountain roads to Cemoro Lawang. I'm dropped off at the hostel and showed to my room. Its as simple a room as you'll find. Its cold up here. We're now over 2,000m up. THere was a very threadbare looking blanket on my bed so I nicked a second one from the adjoining room hoping it would remain vacant for tonight.

Cemoro Lawang is a small, sleepy village with a dramatic location. Its perched at the top of a steep valley on the rim of a massive volcanic crater of Mt Bromo. The diameter must be a good 4 miles wide. In the center of the crater rise a number of younger craters. Gunung Batok rises up with a classic cone shape. Beside it the gaping, active crater of Gunung Bromo itself belches a constant cloud of brilliant white sulphurous vapour into the atmosphere.

The hostel overlooks the crater and the view this morning was spectacular. The smoking volcanoes stood out impressively against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. Two plumes rose into the sky. The brilliant white of Bromo and, in the distance, the grey brown plume from Mt Semeru which rises to some 3,700m.

I was tired after the overnight journey. I lay down for about 90mins before heading for the volcanoes. I woke up and struggled up bleary eyed. Outside everything had changed. The blue skies had disappeared, replaced by clouds. With this the temperature had dropped and it was quite cool. Still it was a nice change from the heat, humidity and mosquitoes. I struck out for the volcanoes. I climbed down to the crater floor and followed a small trail across 3km of flat sandy terrain to to the first of the small volcanoes, Mt Batok. The sides of the volcanoe were steep and covered in gorse. It got steeper the closer you got to the summit but it wasn't difficult following the tiny track that winds its way up the slope. I spent an hour at the summit of Batok looking around its dormant crater taking in the views, looking down into the wide, smoking mouth of Mt Bromo.

Descending Batok in bright sunshine the temperatures quickly rose while the sky remained clear of clouds. I reached the sandy base and strolled over to Mt Bromo. I was looking forward to seeing this active crater and imagined seeig a gaping mouth of bubbling lava but when I reached the crater rim and peered down it was very different. Down in the bottom of the crater there was a small opening through which the vapours billowed. There was a continuous soft hiss. Members of a local mountaineering club had climbed down into the crater and written the name of their village in rocks beside the open vent. Alongside me were 4-5 local lads from a nearby village. They had come over on motorbikes and were loungin around on the crater rim smoking and snacking on peanuts and jasmine tea. They had English and we chatted briefly. It appears its a common outing for locals to take a spin over to Mt Bromo of an afternoon.

I started back to Cemoro Lawang. At the base of Bromo there was an old guy with a motorbike who offered a lift up to the village. At first I refused but feeling tired a motorbike ride back sounded good. I went back and we bargained a price, agreed on 10,000 rupiahs, and I climbed aboard behind the auld lad. 15mins later I was back at the village.

During the evening fog descended over the village. The volcanoes had disapeared behind a veil of mist. I bumped into a Scandinavian couple from Finland, Alex and Marianne. They had arrived during the afternoon and were going to head for Bromo for sunrise in the morning. They were a lovely couple and I ended up spending the evening with them, chatting over dinner as we watched the fog become heavier, swirling around the windows of the restaurant. By 9pm I wa wrecked I would be up again around 3.30am for a sunrise trip high into the mountains so I went to bed. It was cold in the room. On top of the two threadbare blankets that covered my bed I bundled my coat and all my warm clothes over me to avoid shivering through the night.

Wed 11th March: Night Ferry to Java

Today I'm planning to move on to Java. First stop there will be to the small mountain village of Cemoro Lawang beside the active volcanoe of Gunung Bromo. It sounds spectacualr and is renowned for the morning sunrise so I'm going to go up and take a look. The bus from Kuta doesn't leave until 6pm so there's the best part of a day to kill around Kuta.

The day is oppressively humid. The simplest of movement results in reams of sweat drenching you. Most people walking around town appeared drenched in sweat. There had been a heavy downpour in the morning but this didn't do anything to clear the air. It remained hot and humid throughout the day. I tried to stay indoors as much as possible until the heat had eased off.

I was picked up around 6.20pm and was shown to the back seat of an 8-seater minibus. I would share this with a young couple to Surabaya on Java. They were married last saturday and honeymooned in Kuta for 3 days. They were now returning home to begin their married life together. The minibus was comfortable. We had good A/C and the seats reclined so you could almos lie flat. From Kuta we made our way into Denpasar to pick up other passengers in different parts of the city. There were six passengers in total for the journey. With everyone onboard we struck out westwards into the darkness for a 4-hr journey to Gilimanuk, the ferry port connecting with Java. I tried to sleep for most of the way as there was nothing to see anyway.

We arrived at Gilimanuk around 11pm. Twenty miles earlier we had stopped at a restaurant to eat. It turned out the food was complimentary, the price included in the ticket. I joined Fehta and her husband for the meal. They looked so young, barely 20. They live in Surabaya, the principal city of eastern Java. Fehta works for a finance company while her husband is an undertaker. Full and refreshed we were ready for the ferry. The waterfront at Gilimanuk was lit up and busy. Numerous ferries were crossing over and cross through the straits. I counted at least 5 ferries loading and unloading on our side. Our driver found his way onto an empty ferry. While the others slept I made my way up on deck for a look around. Some miles away across the water sat Java. While its only a 30 min crossing we were onboard for a good 90 mins at least. Bangawangi, our destination, lit up the far shoreline. It sat low on the land. Towering overhead two great peaks sat in the darkness, their volcanoe-like outlines showing in slhouette against the bright, moonlit sky.

On deck it was warm and humid but a light breeze felt so good. The dark, murky waters beneath were littered with debris. I was the only westerner on board this particular boat and, as I wandered around my presence drew bored looking stares from other passengers who had nothing better to do than spot the tourist. The main portion of the deck consisted of a large lounge. A scatter of passengers seated themselves watching a local tv station as we waited to pull away from shore. From the decksides others peered in through the windows preferring the cooler air outside. As soon as the ferry got under way the tv was switched off an a female singer accompanied by a keyboard player began to play a selection of Asian and arabic numbers to the audience.

One lad came up to chat to me. He had decent English as he had worked previously on cruise ships around Europe. He had returned home to gain a certificate in seamanship. He was returning to Surabaya for a 2 month break before going back to work on the cruise ships in Europe. As we neared Banyawangi the ship had to go into a queue before docking. There were a number of other ferries ahead of us so it would be a while before leave the ferry. Before we docked I returned to the minibus and settled down to sleep. It would be a good three hours before we would arrive in Probolinggo from where I would get a bus up to Cemoro Lawang. Once we got off the ferry the driver set off at pace through the outskirts of Banyawangi. We followed the coast road north and then west as we skirted around the mountains of the interior. I looked out into the darkness of eastern Java and began to drift off.

Tues 10th March: Another spin around Bali

I met Mehdi around 9am for another long spin around the island. This time we went directly north through the centre of the island to Gitgit waterfall in the Mountains. We made our way out through Seminiyak, the more upmarket, expensive end of the resort and then out into the countryside. One feature of the main roads here is that they are lined with buildings. In this part of the island it doesn't feel like you're moving from one town to the next. The buildings are continuous so it feels as though you haven't left the original town. Off the main routes its different but all the businesses are attracted to the main roads.

It was a hot humid morning. We stopped off at the Royal Temple at Mengwi. There are many different kinds of Hindu temples. Large public temples such as Besakih, smaller village temples reserved only for the inhabitants of the locality down to family temples such as this. The royal temple, however, does appear to be for public use judging by those worshipping ther during our visit. Tourists may not enter the temples which are reserved for the use of worshippers only but you are free to wander round the perimeter. Three times within the first 10 mins of entering the temple grounds I was asked to pose for photos with the locals. Indonesians like to have their photo taken with tourists. I had to do a double take when one pretty girl approached me and asked "Would you like to make a photo with me??" Wandering around I felt like a bit of a rockstar but I was one of very few westerners onsite at that early hour.

The temple itself was open air, quite beautiful with well attended gardens surrounding it. Inside worshippers were at prayer. It felt a little intrusive gawking over the walls at them. Those who weren't praying sought some sheltering shade to have a quiet chat with friends. We left Mngwi for the central mountains. The continuous build up of houses by the roadside petered out and we passed through tracts of lush wet Padi fields. We pushed on into the highlands passing through small villages and by many temples, Buddhist as well as Hindu. Clouds lay heavily on the mountaintops ahead. It was noticeably cooler up here. The heat no longer beat through the top of the car. You could actually move in the seat without breaking into a sweat. The air-conditioning began to feel cold.

As we crested the mountains and began to descend into the northern half of the island the rain started. The padi fields of the lower slopes had given way to drier vegetable plots not requiring such heavy irrigation. Up here the vegetable plots had in their turn given way to a thick covering of rain forest. We parked up close to Gitgit waterfall in heavy rain.

Mehdi gave me an umbrella and I followed a path towards the waterfall. I came to a souvenir stall run by a woman. I declined her invitation to buy "Shopping" I did ask her if I could step in under the stall to shelter from the torrents of water which were now falling. The lady had a young daughter who appeared to be 'working' the pathway selling trinkets. She stood beside me as I took shelter, watching me curiously. I smiled and she smiled awkwardly. She's been primed to sell to tourists and has all the lines for it but now, standing beside me sheltering from the rain she seems unsure of what she should do or say. She smiled, fidgeted, smiled again. Then she said her name. I told her mine. She sat down beside me and we watched the rain for a few minutes until it eased. When I showed signs of stirring to move on the girl jumped up and ran a few yards up the path. As soon as I joined the path she started into her well-rehearsed sales routine. Her persona changed completely.

Up at the waterfall I got changed into swimming togs. You can swim in the pools here but I was expecting much better weather than this. I tried getting into the water but it was too cold for me , and anyway there were plenty of mosquitoes around. I changed back into regular clothes. On the way back I had to shelter again as the rain hammered down. This time there were two young mothers under the shelter trying to sell me knick knacks. They wanted me to "buy for their babies" and on cue the two todllers began to cry and look at me. I couldn't believe it. These kids were still in nappies.

We left for the south side of the island as soon as I got back to the car. We stopped to view hillside filled with terraced padi fields at a restaurant which, I think, I was supposed to eat at. I went in and asked the price and it was double what I would pay in Kuta so I didn't stay. I was already over budget for the day doing this tour. I surprised Mehdi by returning to the car so soon. I told him the food was too expensive. Perhaps he was on commission from the restaurant and was about to lose out by my return, whatever, foir the rest of the day the atmosphere seemed to alter a little. Mehdi wasn't quite so jovial as he had been after this.

By skipping lunch we had time to kill so Mehdi took a long route through the countryside to the next stop, "the monkey forest". We descended from the hill country through increasingly narrow country lanes. We passed through fields of moist green rice paddies. The roads were poor, rutted, cut up from floods and lack of maintenance. Few vehicles passed through here. We saw small farming villages, a far cry from the tourist resort at Kuta. Locals hanging out at the only local corner shop stared at us as we drove slowly by. We returned to the low country and, as we did so the temperature again increased in the car. We had to sit still in our seats again. The humidity drained me and I began to doze off. Eventhough I fought the sleep I couldn't help but nod off for a few minutes at a time.

I spent nearly an hour at the monkey forest looking at...... monkeys. There's a small temple here dedicated to them and three troops live in the vicinity each with their own defined territories. Its quite entertaining to watch them but you have to be careful as the least rustle of paper wil attract a gaggle of expectant monkies.

We reached the rock temple at Tanah Lot in time for sunset. There were crowds here for the evening spectacle. This temple is spectacularly located on a rocky outcrop which, at high tide is cut off from the mainland. It is part of a complex of similarly sited shrines on adjacent outcrops. I watched the sunset from a ledge overlooking the shrine. It was full moon and the tide was high so the ledge was being swept by crashing waves sending spray high into the air. I tried to get ambitious shots of crashing water and unfortunatley got over ambitious. I was caught by the tail end of one wave and the camera got wet so I'm hoping there is no damage to follow. Still the sunset was beautiful.

Mon March 9th: Kuta

Didn't do much today. A week of little sleep and hectic travelling caught up with me. I slept for a lot of the day. I stayed around Kuta, didn't even go down to the beach. I did arrange for another trip into the island for tomorrow and decided I will head for Java on Wednesday.

Sun 7th March: A look around the island.

I got to bed around 4.30am. Three hours later I'm up with a bit of a beer haze to meet Mehdi who's going to take me around some of the sites on the island. It is a hectic 12hr day and we cover a couple of hundred Kilometers, covering the northern and eastern portion of Bali. We did not stop between visits to sites. We did stop at a coffee plantation to sample Bali coffee and various others, Ginseng coffee, coco, Ginger tea and lemon grass tea. Each was amazing. The Bali coffee having an almost chocolate like consistency and badly needed by me with a hangover kicking in.

The island is beautiful, a contrast to the glitzy resort at Kuta. Bali is less than half the size of Ireland but it has a population of over 3 and a half million. While Indonesia is an Islamic Republic Bali is predominantly Hindu. The island is dotted with beautiful temples and shrines, some dating back to antiquity. Even in Kuta, once you begin to look between the shops and the bars, you will see many shrines are scattered around town. All are tended three times daily with offerings of drink, food, flowers and incense. Similar offerings are laid on little card trays outside most doorways in an appeal for good fortune from the Gods.

Among the temples we visited were the Elephant cave temple, an old shrine that which fell into ruin. A water temple where Hindu devotees submerged themselves in water in a ritual cleansing of the spirit, The Mother temple complex at Besakih, the most important of the Hindu temples on Bali. People are preparing for an important 10-year festival in the next couple of weeks where Hindus from all over the island will attend in pilgrimage. Various works were being undertaken to ensure the temple is ready for the influx of pilgrims. At Besakih I had to wear a sarong while visiting the complex. The lady who hired one out to me, for a price, managed to find the brightest, pinkest on e available. At least she had a sense of humour. There I was stumbling around awkwardly in the gayest looking sarong she could find. I couldn't walk properly in it either. I kept getting tangled up in it. It was certainly eye-catching judging from the amount of people glanced over and had a wee giggle at me. The kids weren't so diplomatic. They pointed at me and roared in laughter!!

In the evening we visited the the dramatic cliff temple at Ulluwatu on the southern tip of the island and saw a sunset performance Kecak Ramayana and Fire dance. The play, a religious allegory of the struggle between good and evil, took place in a small amphitheatre on a cliff edge facing the setting sun. It was performed in a traditional stylized form of dance with an unforgettable chorus providing the musical backdrop. The actors all had very bright, colourful costumes. It was an amazing performance, unlike anything you'd see at home and with the sunset filling the background, unforgettable.

While the evening performance would be familiar with Hindus generally, we had seen a traditional Barong performance earlier in the morning at Celuk, a town on the far side of Denpasar. This performance, again a Good v Evil play from Hindu traditions, was of a specifically Balinese style. The players were accompanied by traditional Indonesian percussion instruments. While I was a little lost during the morning performance. The fact that I had seen this one meant I was much more clued in for the sunset play which, I think, made the second performance all the more impressive.

By the time I got back to Kuta, in darkness, I was wrecked. I was unsure what to do next, whether to move on towards Java or to hang on using Kuta as a base to see more of Bali. In the meantime I just wanted to sleep.

Sat 6th March: Beating the Blues in Bali

Sorry lads I've fallen way behind with updating the blog. The time in Tonga where I didn't get to an internet meant I fell way behind. I'll try to start updating the text with the photos. For now, for my Indian friend. I've updated the cricket entry with an account of the match. So if you want to read that you'll see it under the entry for 27th Feb.

I wake up at 5am after about 4hrs sleep. There's a 5hr difference between Bali and NZ and my body is still in NZ time. I can't get back to sleep so I get up for breakfast at 7am and then head out to see the beach. I stroll for two hours along the 10km stretch of beach but to be honest it doesn't impress. Its full of litter, its commercial, there's sun loungers for rent, surfboards, hawkers selling cheap jewelry and fake watches. Even at 7.30am there's a lot of people on the beach, joggers, surfers and the first of those topping up their tans. The roadside lining the beach is full of designer beach gear and chain restaurants, MacDonalds etc. There's a small army of locals sweeping it up but even so the sand doesn't look appealing. The problem is I'm comparing this to Uoleva in Tonga which was a little Paradise. Kuta Beach just cannot compare. Its probably better than my opinion of it...... but when you've been to paradise!!!

I leave the beach with a mission, to find a bar showing Cov v Chelsea in the FA cup quarterfinals. Its 11yrs since the sky Blues reached this stage of the competition and now they have the formidable task of beating the Blues to reach the last four. Hope springs eternal. I head back up along Legian, through the familiar chorus of hawkers offerering whatever. Its only 10.30am and even this hour the "Jiggy-jig" girls are promising a good price. "Jaysus love will ya at least let us wake up. You may be calling the tune but I aint dancing.!!!". I find a bar advertising the game for 8.30pm tonight....Sorted. Later I sort out a trip into the interior of the island for tomorrow.

I spend the day looking around Kuta. Its just a big resort. Its exotic but still just a resort. It could be Ibiza, or even Bundoran for that matter. In the evening I get to the bar in time for kick off with a large bottle of Bintang in front of me. There's a number football heads in for the match but also a number of Aussies drinking here. They show a lot of Aussie rules here and when the staff switch the large screen from Aussie Rules to the Cov match the Aussies begin to drift away, Not content to have to sit through "Kick-and-Giggle" as they call football. Who cares the Sky Blues are on TV, there's a record crowd in the ground and, who knows, we might even win!!! MMmmm, 90 mins later the picture isn't quite as rosy. Reality bites as the predictable result pans out with a relativley easy win for Chelsea 2-0. Cov lose again. At least they put in a good efort.

I'm sitting beside An Indonesian chelsea fan who thinks its quite funny that I follow Cov. He has a friend who follows Southampton and thinks thats absolutely hilarious. Still, he's gracious in victory. We end up chatting and drinking through the night as Spurs v Sunderland and then ManU v Fulham are shown. As the drinks get knocked back the Indonesian lad gets drunk and wants me to sort out his love life. He's fallen for an older English woman he works with who's leading him on. She was with another Indonesian guy who's now in jail but she wants to remain with him when he's released. She was previously married to a third Indonesian but is now divorced. It's plain whats going on. Cov have lost, I'm half drunk and I don't really give a...... so I tell him to steer clear, that she's only going to break his heart. Its not really what the lad wants to hear and you can see the young fella is hurt. She's playing him for all he's worth. Perhaps I should have made up a fairy tale ending for him. By the end of the night its the Chelsea fan who's singing the Blues not the Cov fan!!! Ahh well, I suppose you win some, you lose some.

Fri 6th March: To Indonesia via Sydney

FACT: Kiwis who emigrate to Australia raise the I.Q. of Both nations....Mensa

Leaving NZ today. It was nice but I'm looking forward to seeing Southeast Asia more. A long 20hr day ahead with a 7 and a half hour wait in Sydney between flights. Up at 5.30am. The flight from Auckland to Sydney is three hours. They show the latest James Bond movie Quantum of Solace during the flight. Bourne is killing Bond hands down!!

Its a beautiful day in Sydney..... so far as I can see from the observation windows in the departure lounge. Without a visa I have to stay put in the airport and there's feck all to do. The high rise city centre looms on the horizon some miles away but no sign of the harbour bridge. I spend a couple of hours updating the diary and trying to write up all the stories Kelafi told us about his life when we were on Uoleva. Apart from that you gaze out the window and watch planes take off and land. So much time travelling is spent waiting. Waiting for, planes and trains.... and ferries that may or may not show!!

The hours pass by. I read a local newspaper. The big news lately in OZ has been the huge wildfires in Victoria and the flooding in Queensland. I think the death toll in Victoria is up to 300 now. I spoke to a Sydney copper who's heading for Bali. At the height of the fires he and 300 other colleagues from this state were drafted in to assist Victoria state Police in helping with the fires. This is the first time that type of cooperation has occurred in Australia. He said at the height of the fires, flames were spreading at a rate of over 100kmh across the bone dry bushlands. Victims were incinerated to ash and the only identification possible was by finding teeth. He said it was quite difficult to cope with at times on encountering some of the tragic stories. The fact that he is now flying to Bali for a break perhaps suggests the traumas involved.

In Sydney the big news is the rise in shark attacks in the waters around the city. Three attacks have occurred in the past few weeks not counting "encounters" which have caused beaches to be closed. Water police on a body recovery in Sydney harbour had the remains snatched out of their hands by a great white and had to leave the body to the shark without any identification being made. Coogee beach was forced to close after a swimmer was "harrassed" in 1m of water.

By 5.30pm we were on the flight to Bali. I bought my round the world ticket with BA/Quantas. However Quantas have offloaded the Bali leg to Jetstar, an Aussie budget airline. They've made a profit on my ticket when I bought it now they've made an even bigger killing by dumping RTW tickets on to this no frills airline. Annoying. You have to pay for your food and on a point of principal I don't buy any of their overpriced garbage, eventhough I'm starving because I assumed there would be food on the flight so I didn't eat before boarding.

It's 10.30pm local time by the time I got to the hotel in Kuta, 22hrs since leaving the hostel in Auckland. I decided to stay here because it was handy from the airport. I drop my stuff in the room and go out to get a bite to eat and a very quick look at Kuta. I walk up one of the main streets, Legian, lined with nightclubs, restaurants, bars etc. Its warm and humid here. Such a change from NZ but not as humid as Tonga. Even so I can feel sweat roll down my back as I stroll around. The streets are busy with hawkers offering motorbike rental, hash, massages both legitimate and dodgy.

An Indonesian guy sitting in a doorstep, smoking, shouts in an Aussie accent "Allo Mate, You want transpot? "No Thanks" "You want hash?? "No Thanks" Ten yards down the street a black lad with dreadlocks and a Bob Marley vest asks the same thing. "No thanks" This continues nearly every 30-40yds. Deeply tanned, blonde Aussies and Europeans stroll up and down the street, checking out the best bars and clubs. Dance music blares into the street. But there's not huge crowds of tourists here. It isn't the high season in Bali. I pass "Ground Zero" the site of one of the notorious blasts during the bombings in 2002. A big memorial now stands on the site of the nightclub where some 200 people died. A large marble plaque lists the names of the victims by nationality.

The road is clgged with traffic. Hundreds of mopeds and motorbikes whizz around town. You can hire them anywhere. Every second guy on the street seems to be offering you one. The amount of people on mopeds is staggering. The street lighting isn't very bright in places but the road is lit by convoys of these mopeds flitting in and out between slow moving cars. A haze of exhaust fumes wafts through the town like a mist. I pass by souvenir stalls selling Bali T-shirts, fake shades etc. " Allo Mate, you wanna look?? You shopping??" I see guys around the bars hold out small green packs that appear to be sticks of wrigleys spearmint chewing gum. I wonder "What in the name of Jaysus are they selling chewing gum for??" Next time I look more closely and see "Ephedrine" on the label.

A lady gently takes hold of my arm. She smiles. "Hey Mistair, you want massage? very good price, one hour" "No Thank you" She draws closer and whispers "you want girl?" "Good price" "She young and beautiful. Twenty one, Twenty three, Twenty two...." "No Thanks" This lady was one of the more discreet madames. More often they just ask. "You want massage" "No Thanks" "Jiggy-Jig??" "What?? No Thanks". One girl passing by on a moped stops, smiles and says "Jiggy-jig??" A middle-aged woman on a moped, with a younger girl in tow slows, arches her eyebrows and says "Jiggy-Jig". Eventually you just start to laugh. Drugs, massage, jiggy-jig, shopping and mopeds, that seems to be Kuta. Of course, you always have a pint!! "Go on, Go on, Go on" "No Thanks" No Thanks" "No Thanks". This becomes the most common phrase I utter in Kuta. People say "Good Morning" I almost say "No Thanks"

Thursday 5th March: final day in Aoterea

Another night of little sleep. As soon as I went into this dorm, a small 4-bed with creaky bunks, I knew it would be noisy. I just didn't realise how noisy it would be. The room overlooked a nightclub and with the smoking ban here in NZ we listened to drunken clubber all night. Some time after midnight a Jap lad came into the room with some bottles of beer a proceeded to drink them in the room. He didn't have a bottle opener and spent an age trying to open them. I wanted to punch his lights out yet I lay there and said nothing, merely becoming more annoyed. In the morning he got a frosty reception from the rest of us. I hate hostels.

I intended visiting Rangitoto today. Its a volcanoe out in Auckland harbour. I went down to the ferry terminal only to find out that the ferry was cancelled due to the weather conditions. It was a dull blustery morning in the city centre but the wind was a lot stronger out in the bay. The water was churning with spray being whipped off the tops of white-tipped waves. Rain was on the way. I decide to take a look in the nearby maritime museum. When I came out 90 mins later the rain had started and was down for the day. As a result the last day in Auckland was low key. I bought a guide to southeast Asia and started planning for the next leg of the trip

Wed 4th March: National Park-Auckland

I didn't sleep well last night. I kept getting disturbed. I was in an 8-bed dorm and all the rest were doing the crossing today so they were all up early. Two lads in particular made so much you'd swear they were mounting an expdedition to Everest, not doing a feckin little one day hike!! They'd woken everyone up last thing last night as well. My toleration of noisy people is beginning to wear thin.

Seeing as I was awake I got up to watch the sunrise. The air was clear again this morning. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, such a contrast to how the place looked when I first arrived nearly 2 weeks earlier. I had breakfast and, when everybody went off to do the hike went back to bed until 10am when I had to vacate the room. I got back to Aucklnad today but the bus isn't until 3pm. The weather was glorious so I went out for a coule of hours towards the volcanoes to take in the views for one last time. Such a difference the weather can make to your experience of a place. Half the time in New Zealand I've been grumbling in the rain about how much the place has been overrated but sitting here looking over towards the volcanic cone Mt Doom standing out against clear blue skies there's nowhere else I'd like to be.

The bus arrived on time and it wound its way northwards through TeKuti, Hamilton etc to a cloudy, overcast Auckland. Arriving in the city at night the city centre presented a fine sight with its tower blocks all lit up. It was only a short walk from the bus staion to one of the city centre hostels.

More of Tongariro crossing