Author: These Two Eyes

These Two Eyeshttp://www.thesetwoeyes.comI believe that experiences are the key to life and travelling shapes those experiences. I try and get away to experience somewhere, something, anything and everything new as often as I can, and it's typically the thought on my mind on a regular basis – so what’s next? Meeting people and hearing their stories, experiencing other cultures, and having a laugh along the way. Trying new food, marvelling at the similarities, the differences. Feeling anxious and scared, and excited and envious all at the same time. This is what it's all about. Thanks for listening to my stories. Eat, drink, explore, meet, laugh...it all makes living worth it.
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Christchurch: The Redemption


While the weather didn’t redeem itself on my recent trip to Christchurch, the city itself did once night turned to day.

I first revisited the heavily damaged Christchurch Cathedral to take a closer look, which only created an even more eerie feeling once the level of destruction was more prominent. This motivated me to take in as much of the city as I could, and find the ‘stuff’ that wasn’t damaged.

Christchurch Cathedral DSCN5265

I strolled a short walk to the Re-Start Project – stores housed in brightly colored shipping containers, from local handmade craft wares to mega brand Katmandu. It was enough browsing to keep me busy for an hour or so. Amongst the ‘shopping containers’ and continuous construction are food trucks and coffee shops, making it the closest option to a mini market square. I heard a rumor they may even keep it that way once the city gets back on its feet.

It’s here you’ll also find Quake City, inappropriately deemed Christchurch’s Earthquake Attraction to demonstrate to tourists the reality of the 2011 earthquake. More heartfelt was Taiwanese backpacker Terry’s Smile for Christchurch campaign, a collection of smiles from around the world taken to brighten the city of Christchurch. 

Smile for Christchurch

It’s only a short walk to the Avon River, then to the greens of Hagley Park and the Botanical Gardens, which apparently are even a sight in this desperate winter. For the true tourists, you can even punt along the Avon, pole to the river floor.

Avon River

I followed the city east and discovered a few more Scape Public Art exhibits; refreshing attempts to get the locals involved and rejuvenate the city culturally. The murals covering the side of massive brick buildings are a revitalizing contrast against vacant lots, concrete rumble and abandoned Caterpillars.

70’s Flower Power Footpath/Sidewalk

And finally and with much gratitude I found Cassell & Sons CBD Bar. I was told you could get a sampler of either 4 or 6 of the Christchurch brew. I opted for the four, I was on working hours after all, but what I received was not the same thing as the tasting paddles I’m used to. Instead what I got was basically 4 pot sized (small beer) of the milk stout, dunkel, lager and IPA. While listening to the funky tunes being played in the background I nonchalantly tried to pretend that the massive ‘personal’ pizza and 4 beers were being shared with someone and that my table for one was a façade.

CBD Bar

After polishing off the milk stout and dunkel – the best of the four, I rushed out of there to make my flight to Queenstown via Christchurch airport . So this is the most interesting part. In Australia, I’m used to by now not having to show any identification for domestic flights. New Zealand, takes it up one more notch – no security screening for domestic flights. Speechless. 

Haunting Christchurch


I’m so naive. I’m sat here in Christchurch, New Zealand and despite all I’ve read and heard anecdotally, I’m still utterly speechless. Christchurch was devastated by a massive earthquake in February 2011 and nearly 3.5 years later is still on the brink of recovery.

I didn’t want to believe it though. My trust-worthy companion, the Qantas in-flight magazine The Australian Way, amongst other travel oriented articles and blogs, have been boasting about Christchurch’s rise from the ashes as of the last few months. In fact, everything from shipping container boutiques to local art installations and pop up coffee shops has spun the ramshackle into riches.

This is what got me most excited. I dismissed all the backlash comments of after quake scares and desolation and imagined a hipster’s paradise – street art, craft beer disguised in old vacant warehouses and fashion labels hidden behind street lamps.

The best part is these things do exist. It’s just what makes it all the more creepy when you’re a tourist for less than 24 hours and you’re the only person on the street trying to uncover all the amazing ‘hidden gems’, honestly inspired to ‘give back’ and help the community but frankly, you’re scared to death of a zombie gang about to bust out of a half standing ex-office building.

Tree Houses for Swamp Dwellers by Julia Morison; Scape Public Art

Tree Houses for Swamp Dwellers by Julia Morison; Scape Public Art

It also didn’t help that John, my nearly 80 year old taxi driver told me point blank just how scary it all was. “You can’t predict these things,” John said. “One minute you feel a shake, and you have no idea how bad it’s actually going to get. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You want to just run away, but they tell you to stay inside, hide under the table or something. One of the safest places is under a doorway because it’s more stable.” John’s lived in in Christchurch his whole life, and fortunately didn’t suffer any personal damage to his family or his home.

Downtown didn’t actually re-open until last November. It’s a ghost town. Literally, the feeling is haunting. There are only five hotels in Christchurch at the moment, and I’m pleasantly impressed with the Novotel, which sits in Cathedral Square, just opposite quiet tram lines and the old Christchurch Cathedral, with part of its side bitten out from the quake.

Christchurch Cathedral

Christchurch Cathedral

It’s only 6:30 pm, 8 degree Celsius (46 F) and pissing down rain. From all the recent articles I’ve read about Christchurch, I had a few places in mind such as CBD Bar who are an off shoot of Cassels and Sons local brewery and Pomeroy’s, a Christchurch historic institution who brew their own beer. After about 2 minutes out on the cold dark streets I stopped on a quiet corner. That was the thing. All of the corners were quiet. I decided to second guess my adventure for local beer due to the fact that I felt alone, and unsafe. As much as I want to help support the local businesses, doing it alone didn’t seem smart. I turned back to have a quiet dinner and local Pinot Noir back at the Novotel, and vow tomorrow to revisit the quick glimpses of street art that I caught earlier today, and maybe even sneak in a cheeky pint too before my flight down to Queenstown. 

In the clouds: snow-capped mountains on the South Island of New Zealand

In the clouds: snow-capped mountains on the South Island of New Zealand

My old friend nicotine


I just smoked a cigarette like I was 13 years old. Does that even make sense? It probably wouldn’t if you’ve never smoked for 15 years, or more, or less.

How I feel when I smell smoke. When I go for a run and hate coming across it. I think, what vile person smokes on the public sidewalk! Don’t you know I’m running and nearing 6 months quit?

Or I’m at the bar, and everyone goes outside. But I can’t go outside. And I love going outside. I’m the person who goes outside. I’m the person who talks to strangers. I’m the person who is too cool for the bar because I’m more concerned about smoking by myself in the corner outside. And I love it.

I’m coming on 6 months quit. I took 2 drags in the bathroom line at a Rastafarian club in Indonesia and said, no! I won’t start smoking again, here.

I fought battles in my mind and with the girls I’ve smoked my first cigarettes with, then cried about it, and still said, no!

I just had a few drags on a balcony at a work conference in Noosa, Australia. I wasn’t even that drunk. I just said to myself, I want to know.

I want to know what it feels like to feel something so familiar and not know it at all. Like losing a friend. Like moving the millions of times I’ve moved. To say hello and goodbye in the same sentence.

I took a drag. In fact, I took 4. I expected my old friend. My 15 years of nicotine and dependencies. I expected the nearly missed flights and panic attacks.

But what I actually felt was being 13 again in the woods of South Jersey. I was a child smoking for the first time with a disgusting taste in my mouth and burn in my throat and a quick buzz to my head. I liked it, but not enough.

I took another, and another. I knew the only way I would like this was to keep trying. To feel myself transition from a feeling and taste of confusion and disgust to my old friend I love to hate.

I want that friend but decided that I don’t so much more. So I took 1 more drag to just double check. Then excused myself and went to bed.

An excerpt from a scratch of paper written on 11th June 2014…that’s the end of the story. I wrote this down, went to bed, and haven’t tried again since Mom! 

 

Wine is coming


Heathcote EstateWine is coming…and Bottle Shop Concepts hit the nail on the head once again. I entered St. Kilda Town Hall to the loud instrumentals of the Game of Thrones theme song, was handed my Riedel tasting glass and instantaneous evaluated the landscape of the adventure that lay before me. Game of Rhones, a five-hour journey tasting the wine varieties derived from the Rhones Valley in France.

The 50 or so producers divided to conquer their aptly themed regions of Southern Wilds (Geelong, Strathbogie Ranges, Yarra Valley), Central Lands (Bendigo, Heathcote, Central Victoria, Goulburn Valley, Pyrenees, Grampians, Rutherglen), The North (Canberra District, Hunter Valley), Western Plains (Margaret River, Frankland River, Great Southern), The Vales (Adelaide Hills, Barossa Valley, McLaren Vale, Clare Valley, Coonawarra), and Beyond the Wall (Rhone). There were over 150 wines on tasting from Shiraz, Grenache, Mourvedre, Carignan, Cinsault, Viognier, Marsanne, and Roussanne amongst blends and other surprising varieties.

I sipped from vendors dressed as hedge knights and head-to-toe dire wolf fur, from Elvis the Barossa King to a suit of armor crafted solely from wine boxes, and watched as fans and wine enthusiasts imitated characters Khal Drogo, Daenerys, Jaime Lannister and Robb Stark to name a few.

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Aside from all the eccentrics, the event also allowed me to experiment with new varieties. I had my first Marsanne, Roussanne and GSM, in which the latter I identified as not favorable for my pallet. I learned that Marsanne is classified as the white wine for red wine drinkers, and the Nagambie region is the largest Rhone growing in Australia. My favorite vendor was Michelle from Michelton Wines, who was not only helpful in explaining in great depth about the region and varieties, including their honey toned 2012 Marsanne and 2010 Heathcote Shiraz, but also was the only vendor that I truly enjoyed the whole range from. It was there that I finally recognized that when it comes to Shiraz my preference is heavier, fruit driven and full bodied.

Box Grove Vineyard took quite a unique approach with their Roussanne by offering a range of an aged, Sparking, and Shiraz blend. Although I didn’t love it, they were doing something new in the region and even make verjus, the pressed juice of unfermented grapes. I was kindly informed this is non-alcoholic. Attica, famously the best restaurant in Australia apparently goes through a litre a day. The zesty lime and fruity table additive would make a great salad dressing.

Notable standouts from the day include Thomas Estate Antiquarian Shiraz 2009; Yangarra Estate Vineyard Viognier 2013 and Old Vine Grenache 2012; Mitchell Harris Mataro, Grenache, Shiraz 2011; Fowles Wine The Exception 2013 Late Harvest Viognier and Stone Dweller 2009 Shiraz.

And while last year we drew an affinity to the wine maker from Bay of Fires, this year’s award for cutest vendor goes to the strapping lad from Man O’ War of New Zealand. Luckily for me, I’ll be in town next month to have another try of their Bellerophon 2012 Syrah Viognier.

Man O War

Simply put the event was clever marketing. From prizes for best costume to entertaining Instagram photos with #wineiscoming hashtags, it took the best from our first Bottle Shop Concepts event Pinot Palooza last September and added a theatrical affair. Despite this being the second year running, we commented on the difference in demographic of the two, with more men and groups of friends creating more of a party-like atmosphere at Game of Rhones over it’s sister event that was very girlfriend oriented. Pinot Palooza is back this October and there’s nothing but a ticket purchase standing in my way!

 

Yes Please! An Evening of Beer and Cheese


Shout from the rooftops, it’s Good Beer Week! The much anticipated annual event offers hundreds of food and beer pairings, educational classes, tap take overs and more spread across the city. Without spoiling myself too much I attended Yes Please! An Evening of Beer and Cheese at Mr. Wolf in St. Kilda.

An Evening of Beer and Cheese

I’ll be honest though, I signed up for this event after one too many pints at an Irish pub in South Yarra based on the loose requirements of a cost under $50 and inclusion of cheese. It was advertised as pairing of Italian cheese and beer, and my expectations were low. I know nothing about the craft beer scene in Italy, and despite having an affinity for cheese, it’s strictly superficial. I was even less impressed initially with the 6 pm start, restricting any opportunity for dinner prior, and finally 30 minutes later we got our first sampling. Grouped at high tables seating 8, my friend and I joked with the strangers how the absence of dinner coupled with the aroma of pizza coming from the dining room was a ploy to direct us to eat in the restaurant post event.

But we were wrong. Despite a disorganized introduction from Will Studd, representative from Calendar Cheese, and what appeared to be animosity, although some suspected it was playful banter, with Leonardo Di Vincenzo from Birra Del Borgo, when our first platter was presented to the table we couldn’t believe our eyes. I’m not a fan of sharing at these types of events, portions can often be cheap and you end up politely giving the last piece to a stranger despite secretly wanting it for yourself. This was not the case however, the value for the cost was applauding.

We began with Mauri ‘Bontazola’ Gorgonzola Piccante Pasturo, Italy and Mauri “Bonta della Bonta’ Dolce Pasturo, Italy, both coupled with Birra Del Borgo ‘Reporter’. In simple terms, we tried two gorgonzola’s, the first being harder, more blue with an intensity in the flavour compared to the ‘dolce’ which was softer and smooth. They both were a great accompaniment to the tobacco porter, which we learned basically contained fermented tobacco, dipped into the brew like a giant tea bag to infuse the flavour.

The Mauri ‘Cave Ripened’ Tallegio Pasturo, Italy, is a cheese matured in caves in the Italian Alps, a very rare occurrence and the Mauri family being one of the only ones left doing so. The cool and humid environment allows for bacteria to grow on the outside, making the rind yeasty in flavour but edible once washed. It was so creamy, coupled with the imperial pilsner ‘My Antonia’. I loved the sweet beginning and the bitter aftertaste. This pairing was also my favourite of the day, but it was still a very hard decision. At this stage we reached the half-way point and I was already feeling my stomach stretch. All the sudden I began to regret my snarl remarks about minimal breadsticks at the start and skipping dinner.

Mr Wolf

A special guest appearance from Giorgio Cravero from Cravero cheese had the group educated about parmesan. The Cravero family of the mountains of northern Italy has been producing parmesan since 1855 and is now in its fifth generation. He told us that out of only 370 producers, 90% are just average. This is coming from a cheese predominately consumed only in Italy. While the cheese we tasted was aged 29 months, this is fairly old for a parmesan. Wrapped in foil so it didn’t oxidize, we were instructed to squeeze then taste, although for most of us the cheese was quite dense and resulted in nothing. Giorgio recommended parmesan goes great with a sparkling white wine, but I found the American pale ale, ‘ReAle’, really drinkable with its caramel malts offering a sweetness mixed with a spicy and bitter finish.

Birra Del Borgo Re Ale

We finished with Il Forteto Pecorino Toscano DOP Stagionato Tuscany, Italy coupled with ‘ReAle Extra’, an IPA and Antica Formaggieria Pecorino Romano Lazio, Italy with ‘Hoppy Cat’ Cascadian dark ale.  Pecorino Romano is claimed to be the original cheese, before parmesan. This is because pecorino comes from sheep, and sheep have come before cows. All pecorino’s are made in Sardinia, in southern Italy. They were both big and salty, like a gulp from the ocean with a bit of stink to it and the Hoppy Cat was much lighter in colour than expected, a dark ale rather than a black IPA.

I walked into Mr. Wolf hungry with small expectations in regards to the beer but waddled out with an appreciation for new cheese and hand on the back to Birra Del Borgo who make not only hip labels, but stellar beers.

 

 

 

Eat, Poop, Sweat


Ubud was one of our most anticipated stops on our 10-day trip to Indonesia. Known for its lush rice patty fields, beautiful temples and an exquisite art scene, Ubud is an interesting mix of earthy-hippy mixed with high-end chic. Polo stores and one-off boutiques line touristy Monkey Forest Road interspersed amongst natural healers, yoga studios and art galleries.

According to Eileen, if she were to write a book about our time in Ubud it would be entitled Eat, Poop, Sweat. Disappointedly, a little known illness termed “Bali Belly”, casually omitted from the original Eat, Pray, Love,  had us both lying in our air-conditioned room at Pertiwi Resort curled in a ball, limiting our ability to fully indulge head first into Ubud culture, but that didn’t stop us from trying.

After arriving, our first stop was the outdoor veranda at highly rated Three Monkey’s Café where we each ordered a club sandwich and lemon and ginger fizz and sat amongst the rice patties. We chatted about how we were both secretly nervous to enter the famed Sacred Monkey Forest but eager to buy some local crafts. Mostly, we were both excited for our cooking class the following morning but I felt weak and achy so we retired early to bed. And by early I mean 7 pm. Twelve hours of sleep later…

We were picked up for Paon Bali Cooking Class, rated the #2 activity in Ubud on Trip Advisor and highly recommended by a friend, by our adorably cute driver. Our first stop was the Ubud food market. They cleverly take you in small groups so you are able to maneuver around the sellers with ease, and the intimate time with the guide is an excellent way to learn firsthand about how they make their local prayer offerings from banana leaves and flowers amongst other items. We weaved through the small lanes until we came to the fruit section under the cover of a large building where we got to try some interestingly produce whose names now escape me. Onto the vegetables, women sat with green beans as long as arms, next to peppers as red as fire and thick purple eggplant. With a nauseous stomach, I attempted to divert my eyes from the decaying fish and the feral dogs roaming through the piles of garbage scattered around.

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The highlight itself was Puspa, the beautiful instructor and matriarch of the family home the class took place in. Once all 17 guests arrived, we were provided a welcome drink as we sat outside in the center of the complex and listened about Balinese traditions. It was fascinating to learn that culturally a woman always moves into the man’s home. If you don’t have a son, you typically will adopt one from another relative so the family can continue. But most heartwarming was the belief that there is no conflict in the home. Every evening the elder initiates discussions in the family temple so everyone can go to bed in peace, as they would have disclosed their worries or discontentment with the entire family.

Over an entire half-day we learned how to make 8 different Balinese courses. The class itself was so unbelievably organized, it had every participant involved at all times, whether it be chopping vegetables, plucking fresh lime leaves, sautéing garlic and chili or crushing it all in the ‘Bali blender’.While chatting away with other travelers, we learned that yellow sauce, salt and pepper, coconut oil, chili and palm sugar are essential ingredients to most dishes. While my stomach was not up for large consumption, Eileen rated both the chicken in coconut curry and tempe with peanut sauce as her favorites and we walked away with a nice recipe book of the day’s dishes to try at home. I’ll keep you posted on my unlikely outcome.

For dinner that evening we eagerly ventured to the much-anticipated Bebek Bengil aka Dirty Duck Diner, who specialize in fried duck. While the premises sit on a beautiful, lush green rice patty, we came at night not knowing that the view was half the pleasure and therefore sat in darkness listening to the buzz of a few far off quacks. When our ducks arrived so deep-fried that we couldn’t decipher between bone and meat, only by the hairs still intact on the skin, another early night called our names.

This was all after my AMAZING spa treatment at The Wibawa Spa mind you. Let me make it clear, imagine this scene: a soothing full body massage with essential oil to the sound of tranquil music. Next, a body scrub of turmeric and jasmine in which they first apply and let dry, then scrub off to exfoliate the skin. Afterwards, you’re covered in thick white yogurt. And finally, you soak in a bath of flower petals and then rinse in a shower under the night sky. The entire treatment was 1 h 45 minutes and would you believe what it cost me? I don’t think you will. It cost me $21. Enough said.

We braved the Sacred Monkey Forest the next day with much hesitation. The forest hosts over 500 macaques in addition to three holy temples. While roaming the grounds and admiring the beautiful sculptures covered in varying shades of moss and Indiana Jones like temples, things turned for the worse. Eileen provided this narrative afterward: “At 11:39 am today, Lisa Vecchio (30) was attacked by a macaques monkey (134). Witnesses report that after letting out a guttural scream she regained her composure. Vecchio left the scene and the macaques persisted, eventually giving up.” When leaving the park I was not only shook up and weary of any monkey in sight, but utterly speechless to spot a chubby 12-year-old boy with a stalk of bananas under his shirt. I’m just lucky I didn’t get bit.

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We ended our time in Ubud with a Legong Trance and Paradise Dance performance by Sekehe Gong Panca Artha at the Ubud Palace. The most mesmerizing aspect was the dancer’s ability to move their hands, eyes, and fingers all to the beat of instruments being played on the side of the stage. While we weren’t too sure what was going on, it was still a fascinating and impressive cultural experience.

On our way out of Ubud our driver stopped off at Jakawana coffee plantation. A small family run business overlooking beautiful rice patties, all guests receive a quick tour of the grounds, including local plants and herbs, along with an overview of the traditional coffee making process and a tasting of an impressive 12 coffees for free. The tastings included everything from herbal tea with turmeric to coconut coffee. For a steep $5, Eileen was brave (and I took a sip) to try the Kopi Luwak, a coffee bean digested and excreted from animals. Neither of us favored it, but it fit right in with our Ubud theme: eat, poop, sweat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Charm of Gili Trawangan


Low tide bicycle

Gili Trawangan was once a hidden treasure that only backpackers knew about. A small island off of Lombak, there was a time where Internet bookings didn’t exist and half of the island was uninhibited. This has quickly changed, and in recent years development has escalated at an unfortunate pace. The evidence was apparent, but the renowned party island still has its unique charm.

Horse and buggy

Standing in the middle of the main street with luggage in tow after exiting our fast-boat from Bali, it was a surprising quick dash to the make-shift sidewalk to dodge a cidomo, the brightly colored horse and carriages that double as both people movers and local transport. A nice escape from bustling Melbourne, there are no cars on Gili T, so getting around consists of your two feet, a cidomo or a bike hire from the many vendors up and down the main drag. Come prepared knowing that most bikes are sea-rusted and it’s hit or miss to get a good one. Luckily Eileen, Louise and I found the Triplets, 3 pink and green matching bikes that were not only quality but made us look really fashionable in unison.

Black Penny Double Villa

Accommodation on the island can vary from boutique hotels for around $200 a night to a fan-only room down one of the back streets for about $15 a night. Like most places in Southeast Asia, it can be cheaper to not book ahead and haggle your way to a pillow, but we landed on Black Penny Villas in which we pre-booked via Agoda.com to be safe since it was over the Easter holidays. Our two bedroom villa, private plunge pool included, was in a great location halfway between sunset and the boat terminal. It was decent enough; despite some questionable Trip Advisor reviews however if I had my pick and was willing to shell out a bit more cash, I would stay at The Beach House or Scallywags Resort, two cute boutique hotels just next door. The most entertaining part was what happened to Eileen on our first night. She wrote, “Had a mishap last night when I couldn’t turn the lights out and the guy from the hotel had to help me. Was way more complicated by the fact that I was locked in my room like Rapunzel.” This was due to the fact that she turned in early being jetlagged but there is only one key for the room, and therefore we locked her in before having a night cap at the Irish bar across the street. When someone came in response to her phoning reception for help, she couldn’t open the door to let them in.

Fish pedicure

Our afternoons consisted of relaxing over spa treatments for incredibly cheap prices, yet ranged in quality and included pedicures, massages, body scrubs and ear candling (or at least that last one was just me) all to the tune of soothing music. I was tempted to get one of the fish pedicures where you put your feet in a small aquarium and let them nibble off your dead bits but was concerned about hygiene so opted out.

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Every night around 6 pm we would ride the Triplets to the west side of the island for a spectacular sunset. Bingtang in hand, we’d overlook the foggy backdrop of Bali’s famed Gunung Agung in the distance while pink, orange, and blue hues would magically change tones until the sky went black. Most places would also have fire pits and local entertainers doing impressive fire tricks and I was grateful that Louise showed me how to slow my shutter speed so I could capture some awesome action shots. Then came another challenge, riding in the pitch black dark, iPhone in hand to light the way as we peddled back to the bustling restaurant strip.

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Dinner each nice was also a treat. It’s not uncommon for quality restaurants like The Beach House and Scallywags, amongst a few others, to have fresh seafood on display. The drill is you pick your seafood from an ice chest of lobster, prawns, fish, and more. They weigh it and once you give your nod of approval they immediately throw it on the grill. While you wait for it to cook there is a free salad bar. Lobsters averaged about $50, so the three of us shared one. Another night I had pepes, fish grilled in banana leaf. When we weren’t dining on seafood there were a range of options including the local staple nasi goreng (fried rice) to Thai and tons of western food. In fact, the most surprising element of my whole trip was how abundant western food was. I’m used to dining in countries where it’s okay to try the local stuff, in fact it’s encouraged, but this time around there was a lot of playing it safe.

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One of the most interesting days on Gili T was jumping onto the Triplets and discovering the whole island. We rode around feeling like we were the stars of Eat, Pray, Love. We first stopped off on the east side and sat under thatched roof huts drinking lime fizz while sun baking. We BYOS (bring your own snorkel) so it was very convenient to be able to laze around and then hop into the crystal clear water for a quick underwater exploration. Funnily though, when we asked for a snack from the large proprietor who was an enthusiastic fan of Bruno Mars, we received the reply, “the kitchen is closed. The chef is still asleep.” That’s island time for you. We were getting hungry for lunch though so hopped back onto the Triplets and took them for a ride in search of the remote, colorful beach hangout/restaurant/accommodation, The Exile. Riding down the dead center of the island, carefully maneuvering the bikes to avoid large rocks and unexpected holes in the dirt path, we witnessed where the locals stay when they’re not servicing the hordes of tourists. Horses and cattle grazed behind coconut trees, children raced their bikes, and workers hammered away further transforming the island to accommodate for more tourists.

In the evenings the various restaurants would turn into island clubs, with live music, reggae or remix popular international artists set to the tune of a relaxed beat. Like a wolf pack, the nine of us (us girls accompanied by a few of Louise’s volunteer friends) all hopped onto our bikes, rode through the dark streets after watching the sunset and eating $5 curries at a small Thai restaurant tucked away off of the main strip. We then settled on a night out dancing at Suma Suma where we drank Bintangs until the early morning, soaked ourselves in sweat, and listened to a local cover band do a heart wrenching rendition of Stand By Me and then hand the stage over to an Indonesian Rastafarian who imitated Bob Marley. What was most surprising was the amount of locals interspersed with the tourists, singing at the top of their lungs – many of which looked well under 18.

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The only way to close out this first part of our trip was to indulge in a final attempt of pure relaxation and the number one spot for it is Pearl Beach Lounge. If you spend a minimum of 100,000 R (approx. $10) you can use their beach loungers, free Wi-Fi and pool for the day. It’s such an amazing deal considering the coconut shrimp, calamari and duck pad thai are to die for. We spent one day roasting on the beach, only to discover the pool has a waterfall and swim up bar. After uncovering that, it was all Bintangs poolside and water aerobics under the crash of the waterfall. Our last evening we treated ourselves to fine dining at one of the nicest places on the whole island, Ko-ko-mo. We indulged in fresh seared tuna and crab raviolis then finished it off with the fallen chocolate dessert. The way that  Eileen described our dessert could also be our farewell to Gili T. “L & E devoured it at equally rapid paces. Both loved it, both sad it’s over.”

Bintang Can

A first touch of Indonesia


It’s very rare to be on a flight where you can almost guarantee the majority of the people on it are also going on vacation. But when you are, oh what a buzz it is. You can hear the excitement in voice tones, witness the change in character by the clothes people wear, the Bermuda shorts are on and the suit and tie are left at home. You can feel the energy in the air and at that point it hits you, vacation is here! This is at least what I felt on my Garuda Indonesia flight bound for Denpasar on Bali just a few weeks back.  Well, at least for the first hour or so. The novelty wore off over the near 6 hour flight.

I hadn’t really set myself any expectations before I left. Of course I read my Lonely Planet guidebook from front to back cover, but that was months ago while I was planning. I settled on a rough itinerary…one night visiting my friend and ex-colleague, now international volunteer, Louise at her host accommodation in Sanur on Bali, four nights mixing relaxation with a bit of party on Gili Trawangan off of Lombak, three nights getting a cultural buzz in Ubud, and finishing it off with boutique shopping and sipping cocktails in  Seminyak. Yup, as usual I had a plan but once I was on the plane itself is when it finally hit me that I hadn’t yet identified my must do/buy/eat list. Most importantly I didn’t even know what the most delicious local food was that I would just have to try.

Once I landed I discovered Bangi Kopitiam, the only café in the Denpasar airport. It was crowded but still a relief from all the hawkers who approach you for a taxi fare. I killed about 3 hours waiting for my friend Eileen to land from New York, passing the time familiarizing myself with the local beer Bintang, trying Mie Goreng aka Indonesian fried noodles and observing the locals. I was surprised to see the female servers wearing fuzzy bunny ears with hot pink sequins in the middle, embracing western Easter holiday traditions despite Bali being one of the largest Hindu regions of the world.

That evening we experienced expat life in Sanur, a coastal area in southeast Bali, as part of a going away party for a volunteer who needed to return back to Australia because she caught typhoid. It hit home that 3rd world diseases do exist and can be obtained by just about anyone. So, we said both hello and goodbye at Man Shed, a funky hangout with car and motorcycle memorabilia where both locals and expats frequent. It had a really cool vibe to it and I was so excited to be out and about with a cold Bintang in my hand, for less than $3 mind you! Afterwards, The Fire Station served up one of the best fried soft-shell crab and pork belly meals that I’ve had outside of Australia, for Australian prices though. That night I learned from the friend an important part of Bali culture. She told me, “sweeping is the biggest pastime on this island. That, and doing nothing.” I realized it was true when I woke up very early the next morning before catching our boat to Gili T to the sound of sweeping outside of Louise’s bedroom window, and roosters clucking in the early morning.

I sat in the front seat of the Gili Cat minibus after our 7:30 am pickup. My seatbelt didn’t work properly, apparently they normally don’t, but traffic is horrendous and so is the driving so I made the driver make it work. There is always a motorbike to be aware of, or multiple. I was dead tired so sat in silence and tuned in to the conversations happening in the back of the bus, but my mind was focused on what was happening on the outside of my dirty window. It took us over an hour to reach Padang Bai, the small port where budget boats set off for Lombak and its surrounding islands. The scenery rapidly changed from inter-city traffic, to lush green rice patties and finally the sea.

Gili Cat at least made things easy. They are Australian owned, so trusted over some of the cheaper, yet less reliable outfits. For an extra cost, it cost us 800,000 R or close to $80 AUD, they pick you up nearly anywhere on Bali, express boat to Lombak or the Gili Islands, and provide return transfer to most central areas on Bali. The check-in process was painless, and they have a neighbouring café that serves pretty good breakfast, I recommend the poached eggs, while you wait and a toilet to use before getting on the boat. The negative is that the boat had no upper deck, which meant we were all underneath, sweltering in the heat with barely a breeze guzzling down the free water they gave us, trying not think of the unthinkable while out in the open sea. The boat ride was about an hour and half, but as we approached Lombak to let some passengers off, then arrived on Gili Trawangan, I had never been so happy to see land.

Eileen and I kept a diary of our adventure in our notebook called “Wanderlust” – stay tuned for some excerpts from the trip and more about Gili T, Ubud and Seminyak coming your way!

My Tasmanian Secrets


Tasmania is not in Africa. It’s is not a remote tropical island in Southeast Asia either. If fact, Tasmania is just another state within Australia.

Often the butt of insensitive jokes by many Australians about inbred farmers, backward small town ways and the like, my recent visit was nothing of a joke though. I came purely for the Pinot Noir but left with so much more.

Hobart

A flight from Melbourne to Hobart round-trip cost me less then accommodation for one night in Launceston. It’s cheap and conveniently an hour away. I’m also lucky my friend David has a corporate apartment downtown so that was a gracious offer that made things very easy.

But with less than 48 hours in Hobart we had to narrow down our options and I would highly recommend the below:

Salamanca Place: for a small town, this is where the action happens. An old historic square with cafes, restaurants and bars around the parameter its one of the few areas open late and bound to have some people around, especially when we flew on a Thursday evening. On Saturday mornings the Salamanca Market is one of the most famous in Australia, with over 300 stalls of local crafts, produce, street performers and more. For drink and nosh I recommend Cargo Bar Pizza Lounge and Grape Food and Wine.

Market performers
Salamanca Market
Wood crafts
Made in Tasmania
Criterion salted caramel waffles

Criterion salted caramel waffles

Criterion Street Café: was literally the best breakfast I’ve had in my life. After a friends recommendation to try the caramel salted waffles with vanilla mascarpone I was immediately smitten. We also wanted to try to the corn and green chili fritters since after all, it was breakfast. The service was impeccable, anticipating we wanted the fritters to share at the start and the waffles for dessert; they brought out two separate, huge servings and didn’t even charge extra. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so full, but I would get on a plane right now to eat there again.

Museum of Old and New Art (MONA): This is the place known for being weird. Australians flock to Tasmania to visit the one true modern art gallery in the country. Those who have visited places such as MoMa and the Tate think it’s nothing too different but if you’re in Hobart this is a must visit.

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While you can drive, one of the best parts of the experience is to hop on the Mona Roma, the high-speed ferry that takes about 40 minutes to reach the museum. While not only being an educational ride with commentary about the landscape, the ferry offers decorative artwork, a funky interior of leather stools, a live parrot and even fake sheep as seats (cattle car) in addition to serving Moo Brew and Moorilla Estate wines on board. On the MONA property you could literally spend a whole day in the exhibits alone, everything from a room of TVs singing Madonna acapella to a poo machine, a project simulating the digestive system of the human body. But then there’s the food such as wood fired pizza, local cheese and meat platters and even fine dining; and the drink, like wine tastings from Moorila Estate and beer flights from Boo Brew; and the scenery, overlooking the water, the vineyard and the town in the background. Saturdays they host markets on the lawn, where on occasion are live performers and it’s just a great place to relax in the sun and enjoy chilled out Tasmania.

East Coast

After leaving Hobart we decided to drive up the east coast to make our way north to Launceston. It all happened in just one day and was jam-packed. I definitely recommend spacing it out if you’ve got the time.

Tasmanian Devil Conservation Park: There’s a reason why I love and thoroughly read my in flight magazine. In this instance, without doing so I would not have known to visit and contribute to saving the endangered Tasmanian devils. They’re only found in the wild in Tasmania, so what a once in a lifetime experience. The entrance fee was a bit steep at $33, but knowing the proceeds went toward a good cause made it worth it. The dog like animals, many of which have a contagious facial cancer were interesting to watch, as they are the largest meat-eating marsupial. While in heat they made loud, screeching noises while barring their razor teeth and were quite aggressive during their feeding time, which we got to watch (dead possum, yum). There were some other animals at the park as well such as kangaroos, wallabies, and birds so there is enough wildlife to kill an hour or so to make it worth the visit.

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Port Arthur

Port Arthur

Port Arthur: is a historical site about an hour and half southeast of Hobart that used to house convicts. Not just any convicts, but those that had already committed a crime and their first punishment was to be sent to Australia in the first place. If you committed another, Port Arthur was your likely destiny. The admission fee included a 40 minute guided tour, which was enough to help us understand what we were looking at and where we wanted to spend the remainder of our time while exploring the grounds. Unfortunately, because we had such a long drive ahead of us it meant we didn’t discover much, but even dropping by made for a beautiful drive and an educational experience.

Freycinet National Park: is a beautiful national park on the east coast of Tasmania about 3 hours north from Port Arthur. Our sole purpose was to visit Wineglass Bay, an outlet of Cole’s Bay shaped like a wineglass. Our plan was to drive up the coast, have a hike around the national park, watch the water shimmer against Wineglass Bay and then travel on to Launceston. But we arrived too late. Dusk was starting to set and frankly, Wineglass Bay didn’t look like anything special. The park information center was already closed and we didn’t have a permit to park. We went for about a 5-minute hike, or more specifically it was just a walk to the water’s edge, and decided to call it a day. Luckily the Edge Restaurant at the Edge of the Bay Resort was open for dinner. We figured, at the least enjoying a delicious meal overlooking the bay would make the long travel time worth it before we had to head back into the car to make our way further North. I had the local specialty of the blue eye trevalla coupled with the Freycinet Valley’s own, Gala Estate Riesling.

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No one told us in advance not to drive at night though. I will tell you now, do not drive at night! It was another two hours after we left Cole’s Bay to Launceston and we figured easy enough. But once on the road, winding our way away from the coast inland and north the GPS took us through another national park. Pitch black, there was no one else on the slow, curvy road. I put on my glasses because at that point I had one official duty, to watch the side of the road for animals. Carcass after carcass of dead animal bodies lay splattered on the road ahead of us so we decided to slow down even more, going no more then 40 kilometers while the radio blasted Saturday evening techno music. It was going to be a long 2 hours, and despite our best efforts before we knew it, boom. Regrettably, a huge kangaroo ran into the car from the side. Luckily he hopped away and we are still praying he is okay.

Launceston

I recently discovered that Tasmanians from Hobart and Launceston have a city rivalry. With just a short amount of time in both cities, I’d put my money on Launceston.

Tamar Valley: Pronounced tame-er, out of all the wine valleys in Tasmania we chose to tour this one. Their Pinot Noirs can be described as heavy and earthy, similar to those of Oregon in the Northwest of the US.  I had high hopes and anticipated shipping home cases and cases, but I left with just one bottle in my suitcase (interestingly from the Coal River Valley outside of Hobart). I’m not sure if my disappointment was because I don’t fully understand my own pallet, or simply because I was more surprised to learn and love their dry Rieslings, interesting Fume Blanc’s and mild Sparkling. I even revisited my old friends Pinot Gris and Pinot Grigio and learnt in more detail the actual difference of the two.

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We booked a tour with Prestige Leisure Tours, and by luck we were actually the only ones booked in for the day. That meant we could customize the tour to our liking and our number one priority was to visit Bay of Fires, one of our top picks from the Pinot Palooza event we attended back in September.  But first we made a stop a Josef Chromy, the worldwide winner for their 2011 Chardonnay that was obviously, but unfortunately not available for tasting. I did however purchase the 2013 to hold on to in the hopes it will mature just as nicely as I’m told that Chardonnay is Tasmania’s best kept secret.

The favorite of the day was Dalamere Vineyard, a small family owned winery in the Pipers Brook region. We got to sit with the winemaker Fran and chat in detail about their handpicked fruits and it was pleasant to just be in a casual, non-touristy setting. Despite them being known for their excellent sparkling, I left with the most interesting of them all, the 2013 Fume Blanc.

We had lunch at Piper’s Brook Vineyard, but I was less impressed with their larger scale production and average food. We then moved on to Leaning Church, another small, picturesque vineyard with amazing views, but I found none of the wine too memorable. At the least, our fabulous driver Michael was helpful in providing recommendations on how to spend our last 24 hours in Tasmania.

Dickens Cider: offers amazing, locally produced ciders and the cute bar in downtown Launceston was a clear next stop once we returned from the wine tour. This is real cider too, thick, cloudy and only natural sugars, it was a refreshing alternative to the bottled stuff I usually drink on other occasions.

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The owner recommended and made reservations for us at the Black Cow Bistro, one of the town’s best upmarket restaurants offering Tasmania’s finest steak. Oh my, truffle béarnaise sauce on lean Tasmanian beef, despite us being quite a few drinks deep we still enjoyed the deliciousness of it all. We made one last stop off for the night, despite it being a Sunday and stumbled over to St. John Craft Beer. I was so excited to try some different beers offered on their ten or so taps but left frustrated and disappointed. The two brothers who owned the place were quite rude and unhelpful, assuming I would want just an average lager and didn’t offer tastings. It was like pulling teeth before I got handed over the amazing Kooinda Black IPA.

Coal River Valley

It was only 2 hours south down the middle of the state to the quant town of Richmond before we turned off to visit much acclaimed Frogmore Creek Wines. We had a couple of hours to kill before our flight back to Melbourne and I refused to leave without a Pinot Noir, despite the other 3 bottles of white wine in my suitcase. Unfortunately their restaurant was closed so we had a quick tasting, I bought a bottle of the 2012 42 degrees Pinot Noir and we moved on.

Coal Valley Vineyard

Coal Valley Vineyard

Coal Valley Vineyard was just a kilometer or so down the road so we turned off to enjoy an amazing cheese platter and a glass of pinot in the sunshine overlooking the vines. This was the perfect way to close off the vacation. Shortly afterward we made our way over to Barilla Bay Oyster Farm, literally a five-minute drive from the airport to try some fresh oysters before boarding our flight. The restaurant didn’t open until 5 unfortunately, so we got a plate of 12 fresh oysters from the take out counter and sat and enjoyed them on ice with a squeeze of lemon.

The Qantas Lounge in Hobart’s airport is only open until 4 pm fyi, which was really disappointing. We still had some time until our evening flight departed so sat in the airport enjoying one last pinot, Abel’s Tempest Pinot Noir, the same wine we had on our first night in Salamanca to close out the trip in a very Tassie way.

Kalymnos, Greece

Anywhere but Europe


I made a promise to myself when I moved home from London in May 2007. I’m not allowed to return to Europe until I’ve seen more of the world that frankly, isn’t Europe.

I broke that promise in 2008 went I went for one last trip over to Greece but it was also the first time I stepped foot on Asian soil while briefly on the Turkish island called Bodrum, so I figure technically it was okay.

The following year I went to Thailand. That was my first Southeast Asian experience complete with Full Moon parties on the beach, $5 massages and picturesque long tail boat rides. It tore at my soul when I spoke to the bazillionth backpacker we met and realized I wasn’t doing the typical Southeast Asian backpacker circuit. Up until that point though, I didn’t even know it was a thing. I had no idea that Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Indonesia, Vietnam – these are the playground for mid twenty somethings who had saved up all their money at a real job to spend it all on a 6 month adventure having no job. I had 10 days. Hello Thailand, good-bye Asia.

In 2010 I ventured to Australia for the first time. I didn’t even want to. Australia felt safe to me, and easy. Almost as easy as just going back to London. Somewhere that I knew at some point in my life I’d go and wasn’t sure if it needed to be now. But, my travel buddy friend was going, so it was go or go somewhere else alone and at that point in my life I was too intimidated to travel solo. In that short trip though I unexpectatdly fell in love with Sydney nightlife and Queensland weather. I knew it was the right next step for me so less than a year later I moved to Australia and have been here for almost 3 years since.

In that time, the 7 years since I left London, I have declined offers of weddings in Tuscany and festivals in Sweden. But to make up for it I stayed true to my vow, and maybe even a little off course, to only travel on this side of the world. That has allowed me to adventure across Australia, to New Zealand and back on multiple occasions, as well as Japan, Vietnam, Fiji, South Africa, and soon to be Bali and the Gili Islands of Indonesia.

But despite all the places the world can take you to my heart sometimes just yearns for Europe. It aches for the dark pubs of London and those tempting english accents, as well as for the vineyards in France, the warehouse parties of Berlin and the beers of Antwerp.

I bit the bullet and said screw my rule; the world is small enough to not have to make geographic limitations. This August I’m offically going back to Europe!