Driftwood and Entire-Leaved Gumweed The coastal tide pools of Nanoose Bay, on the protected east coast of Vancouver Island, are a unique ecosystem and still home to clumps of grindelia integrifolia, or entire-leaved gumweed, which nestle on the rocky beaches in the shelter of washed-up drift wood.
There is something invigorating about tall trees, a mountain backdrop, and ocean breezes.
It is always a pleasure exploring the woods and waters on and around Vancouver Island, on the West Coast of Canada. My husband and I return regularly to our favourite walking and sailing places, but we also try to explore some new terrain on each visit.
Recently, during a summer stay in Nanoose Bay – a small community on the east coast of Vancouver Island overlooking the waters of the Strait of Georgia – we decided to play proper tourists, and let some local experts show us the sights. We signed ourselves onto the Monday afternoon “Parksville Qualicum Beach Treasures Tour”with the locally run and operated Pacific Rainforest Adventure Tours.
It was a good decision: local knowledge makes the ‘wild’ much more accessible. Our guide for the afternoon was owner-operator Gary Murdock, an ex-Forest Technician and local conservationist who knows where all the natural treasures are, and who had no trouble answering any of the questions we could pose.
Join us for an easy day of short walks.
Rocks on Craig Bay When my husband and I stay at our usual accommodation near Nanoose Bay on BC’s temperate Vancouver Island, we make of point of enjoying a morning walk around the rocky tide pools of Craig Bay.
Garry Oak … and through the overhanging Garry oaks (Quercus garryana) along the Craig Creek Estuary.
Brickyard Community Park Although the waterfront is dotted with resorts and high-end housing, there are also several reserves and parks that everyone can enjoy. Even though I’ve checked out the Tourist Information and regional maps many times, we had never visited these particular parks before.
Himalayan Blackberry Leaf (Rubus Armeniacus) on the Foreshore Brickyard Community Park is a tiny five-acre (2 hectare) chunk of rocky outcrop nestled amongst the expensive waterfront homes perched on the cliffs on either side.
People on the Point The rock bluffs of Brickyard Community Park allow spectacular views over the Winchelsea Islands …
Sailboat in the Winchelsea Islands … and to snowcapped mountains on the mainland across the Strait of Georgia.
Gary with his Spotting Scope Our local guide sets up his spotting scope to check out the seals and otters in the bay.
Back up the Path The group heads back up the trail to the the van, through the towering Douglas firs, …
Vanilla Leaf (Achlys Triphylla) … and past lush, sweet smelling native vanilla leaf …
Himalayan Blackberry (Rubus Armeniacus) … and the pretty blossoms of the invasive Himalayan blackberry bushes.
Guide Gary in the Woods At our next stop, Beachcomber Community Park, Gary points out a eagle’s nest …
Eagle Babies in the Nest … high in the trees over our heads.
Eagle Chicks Douglas firs can grow to between 20–100 metres (70–330 ft) tall; I have no idea how tall this one is, …
Eagle Chick … but even with a zoom lens and a crop, the baby eagles – already with deadly-looking beaks – are a long way off!
Bald Eagle in the Trees Clearly, however, we are close enough! One of the parents keeps watch from a perch nearby.
Crazy Coastal Pacific Madrone (Arbutus Menziesii) The trunks and branches of these Northwest native evergreens twist crazily against the coastal winds.
Beachcomber Community Park Foreshore From the rocky shoreline of Beachcomber Community Park, the privately-owned Mistaken Island is so close you can almost touch it.
Driftwood Art The elaborate driftwood washed up on the shoreline gives a clue to the “Beachcomber” name.
Pastoral Our next stop – at the Little Qualicum Cheeseworks and Mooberry Winery – is in the middle of the kind of pastoral growing country that supports a working dairy farm: …
The Cheeseworks … a dairy farm with a sense of humour. And, they make great cheese. We picked up a few treats for dinner.
Bridge over the Englishman River Falls Our last stop for the afternoon is at Englishman River, where we cross the river …
Englishman River Falls … and get a good view over Upper Englishman River Falls, where the waters cascade …
Englishman River Canyon … into a deep and rugged canyon below.
Sunset Parksville In the evening, we enjoyed another glorious sunset …
Sunset over Craig Bay … over the waters and rocks of Craig Bay.
With drinks in hand, we sat watching the sun set over the tall trees and tide pools of Vancouver Island; a perfect ending to a lovely day in one of my favourite places.
Tawali Child Big, serious eyes and solemn expressions were a feature of many of the Papua New Guinean children that I met on my recent travels.
Papua New Guinea is not the easiest place in the world to get to.
I was starting from Australia, a near neighbour and – for almost 60 years – the former administrative head of PNG. Even so, limited flight options into and out of the capital Port Moresby are only available certain days of the week, making travel planning difficult.
It is also not the easiest place to get around. In spite of intense investment from the World Bankand targeted international foreign aid (e.g.: Construction Begins on K89), much of the country is not well served by roadways. Many of it’s centres simple do not connect to each other, except by way of isolated and dangerous walking tracks, waterways, or expensive internal flights.
And the scheduled domestic flights – as our group of twelve travellers under the guidance of photographer Karl Grobl from Jim Cline Photo Toursdiscovered to our dismay – are dependent on weather and visibility, mechanical repairs and replacements, and resolution of pilot disputes. We were stranded in Mount Hagen for a full day and grounded in Port Moresby Airport for several hours, cutting a day and a half off our planned time in the beautiful Milne Bay.
Papua New Guinea is also a difficult place to get one’s head around: it can be hard to reconcile the contradictions between the idyllic surrounds and the gentle-eyed people on the one hand, and a history of head-hunting, stories of cannibalism, and ongoing tribal warfare on the other.
And yet, on the ground in the country – whether in the down-at-heels city of Port Moresby, stranded on the Sepic River in a broken boat, rubbing shoulders with tribal groups at the Sing-Sing in the Mount Hagan highlands, or visiting a Skull Cave in the coastal Milne Bay area – I never once felt unsafe or unwelcome.
The light can be as unforgiving as the old tribal ways: the inky-dark jungle contrasts with the streams of burning brightness that sneak through the canopy. Light bounces wildly off the clear waters. Art photographers don’t like “hot” patches in their pictures; I sometimes don’t mind them, because they tell some of the story of what is: glaring light and darkened shadows co-existing in a balanced patchwork of extreme contrasts, rather than a smoothly blended hegemony.
To try to sort out these contradictions, I’m starting at the end of my trip – sharing a selection of the photos I took across two idyllic days spent based at the remote and lovely Tawali Resort, which sits on a limestone bluff, high over Hoia Bay, about two hours east of the Alotau Airport.
Of course, getting there was in keeping with the theme: we were already a day behind schedule because of a pilot’s dispute. We arrived at the Port Moresby airport early to check in for our flight to Alotau, but (with no explanation) the plane itself was hours late arriving. So, we spent all morning in a spartan domestic terminal, not sure if we’d ever get off the ground.
That was only the start of the adventure!
Spinner Dolphins – Stenella Longirostris After a bumpy and harrowing 90 minute bus ride along dirt roads with holes the size of small craters and over bridges that were little more than rough planks, we were pleased to transfer ourselves and our luggage onto one of the boats that are the only mean of accessing Tawali Resort. We were even more happy to find a late lunch on board, as we’d been stuck in an airport terminal without food for several hours. The scores of dolphins that came out to play with the boat wake were a bonus.
Spinner Dolphins – Stenella Longirostris It is impossible not to smile watching the dainty dolphins cavort.
Spinner Dolphins – Stenella Longirostris The waters below us are so clear that it feels like we can touch the bottom.
Dinghy on Milne Bay To compact our planned activities into our shrunken time-frame, and to take advantage of the the remaining daylight, we over-shot the resort and took the dinghies ashore for a short walk into the jungle.
Canoe on Milne Bay A local man, going about his business on the turquoise waters near shore, watches us with a smile.
Alotau This is an area of limestone karst caves; the foreshore is rocky and shaded by mangrove trees.
Skull Cave The limestone caves are pitch black, with uneven floors and rough walls – – – and are piled full of countless human skulls; a macabre sight in the torch light.
Skull Cave One story we were told to account for these skulls was that three neighbouring villages of head-hunters were in competition to collect the most trophies. Just over 100 years ago, missionaries arrived in the area and prohibited the custom of headhunting and the practice of cannibalism, driving villagers to hide their prized skull collections underground in these ‘secret’ caves. Some credence is given to this story by the fact that all the skulls seem to show spear injuries in the same place. The other explanation is that when revered people died, they were buried upright with clay pots placed over their heads. When the body decomposed sufficiently, the head was removed and placed in the cave as a show of respect. Apparently these skull caves are relatively common across the country.
Baby in Arms Back outside in the dappled jungle light, local villagers sit with their beads, wooden carvings, and shells for sale to the tourists.
Shells
Family in the Jungle The people seem quite shy, and although they must be used to tourists, …
Beauties in the Jungle … they mostly just watch us.
Tawali Girl
A Shy Smile
Boat in the Spray We ride the boats a little further up the coast, …
Village Life in Hewiia … where we take a short walk through a simple local village, …
Waterfall in Hewiia … and back into the jungle to a lovely waterfall.
Schoolgirls at the Waterfall Local children follow us, …
Schoolgirls at the Waterfall … and watch us with curiosity.
“Little Beauty” This solemn-faced young woman was wearing a t-shirt that read: “This Beauty doesn’t need a Beast.”
Bird Eating Spider The jungle is full of surprises.
Tourist Boat
Simple Grace As the day closes, we finally head to the resort, where we once again discover how ill-prepared Papua New Guinea is for tourism: the bar has plenty of tonic and lime, but no gin!
Ferns in the Jungle Tops The next morning, we were up at 4am for a short boat ride and a long walk (straight up!) to see the indigenous birds of paradise. Unfortunately, our group was too large and too loud – or perhaps it was the drizzly weather – and, although we could hear the male, high in the trees over our heads, calling to his mates, all the birds remained hidden.
Rainbow over East Cape As if apologising for the early morning start and the lack of bird-sightings, the Bay threw up a lovely rainbow as we motored back to the resort for breakfast.
Outrigger on the Water After breakfast, we headed back out onto those richly coloured waters to dock on a sandy tropical island for lunch under the mangroves …
Culture Clash … and snorkelling on the reef under the watchful camera of a drone. (iPhone6)
Reef Abstract Leaving the cameras safely on dry land, I played with the iPhone over the coral reef while I kayaked on the crystal waters. (iPhone6)
Young Warriors The rainy evening pushed the muu-muu (ground-baked pig, wrapped in banana leaf) and the sing-sing (a cultural gathering of costume, music and dance) indoors. Young boys with spears …
Little Birds of Paradise … prepared to surround and ‘kill’ birds of paradise. Looking at all the bird feathers used in the intricate headdresses, it is no surprise that the birds remain elusive in the wild.
That children’s performance says it all: wide-eyed innocent dancers telling the beautiful but gruesome story of a hunt that ends in the death of a rare and exotic creature.
Papua New Guinea is, indeed, a study in contradictions.
Thanks so much, Karl! Your trips are always full of highlights; I always enjoy travelling to new places with you. I’m looking forward to the next time…ReplyCancel
Diane Rosenblum -August 31, 2017 - 3:58 pm
I loved the post and your pictures. You got the dolphins! And your children are lovely. (Really like the cropping of the first child image). Now I know why Karl waits to see your blogs to find out where he’s been and what he’s done!ReplyCancel
Ha Ha Ha!! I wait to get home to see where I’ve been and what I’ve done. 😉 I am looking forward to all the tribal portraits, but they still seem a little overwhelming…
It was lovely to meet you – there WILL be a next time. 😀ReplyCancel
JEANNE LEWAND -August 31, 2017 - 4:06 pm
YOU SO BEAUTIFULLY CAPTURED IN WORDS AND PHOTOS THE ENTIRE TRIP. LOVED BEING WITH YOU ON EVERY MOMENT OF THIS TRIP OF “CONTRADICTIONS”.ReplyCancel
Many thanks, Jeanne! It was great travelling with you. 😀ReplyCancel
Jan Lively -August 31, 2017 - 10:57 pm
Yet again Ursula, you have come through with pictures and words that so artfully tell the story of our amazing time together in Papua New Guinea. And when friends ask me about our trip, I am going to suggest they check out your blog, for indeed, you are a master story teller. It was great to travel with you again too.ReplyCancel
Thanks, Jan, you are too kind! It’s always a joy to travel with you and the Handsome-Lew-Man. 😀ReplyCancel
Kat Miner -September 1, 2017 - 1:47 am
Wonderful, Ursula! Such fun to read about your experience! In spite of all of the bumps along the way, it sounds like you made the best of it!ReplyCancel
[…] (see: A Slice of Life and Life on the Edge); Milne Bay (see: Portraits from the Dance and Innocent Eyes and Head Hunters); the Middle Sepik (see: Ursula’s Weekly Wanders Sepik PNG); and Mount Hagen (see: Mt Hagen), […]ReplyCancel
Tony Joe White Who doesn’t know “Polk Salad Annie”? Tony Joe White was part of the first Bluesfest I attended, several Bluesfests since, and a big part of my youth. I had tears in my eyes while watching him this year; although he performed as powerfully as ever, he seemed frail. We are all getting older …
Isn’t it wonderful how a particular song can take you right back?
Back to the time and place you were when you first heard it? Music makes connections – across people, across continents, and across time.
The first time I attended the Byron Bay Bluesfest, back in 1999 when it was still called the East Coast Blues & Roots Festival, I felt as if the 25-odd years that had intervened between myself and the music concerts of my teens had simply fallen away. While listening to Taj Mahal, Jimmy Webb, Dr John, Tony Joe White, and other sounds from my adolescence, I remembered all the best things about those years. Even the songs associated with teenaged heartbreak felt sweet.
Every time I’ve returned to Bluesfest since then, I’ve had moments like that: moments of nostalgia, where old memories are as sharp as if it was yesterday – where I can remember the person I was as clearly as if there have been no changes in the many years intervening, while still retaining some of the perspective that comes from “growing up”.
This year was no different: mixed in with the cutting edge new performers were some of the “big names” from my youth. Truth be told, none excited me quite as much as the appearance of Robert Plant – from my beloved Led Zeppelin – whom we enjoyed in 2013 (see: Singing the Blues), but I was keen to hear the other contributors to the soundtrack of my adolescence who were on this year’s lineup.
They did not disappoint.
Waiting for the Doobie Brothers – The Mojo Tent The “big” names tend to be in the big tents. Even though those tents are jam-packed with people as keen to hear the old favourites as I am, the atmosphere makes it worth it to just be there. (iPhone6)
Camera and Lights The big tents are equiped with spot lights and cameras, so even without a direct view of the stage, you can still watch the screens either side of the stage, or outside.
Doobie Brothers (2014) I managed to get reasonably close to the wonderful Doobie Brothers when they performed in 2014 (see: Full Blast and Full Colour), and I was hoping for a repeat this year.
Doobie Brothers (2017) With members all well into their 60s, the band continues to tour regularly. I (and the rest of the packed-in audience) enjoyed them as much as ever!
Tom Johnston A multi-instrumentalist, Tom Johnston was a founder of The Doobie Brothers, and has been a contributing guitarist, lead vocalist and songwriter, off and on, over the band’s almost-40-year existence.
The Doobie Brothers Bass guitar player John Cowan and Patrick Simmons on acoustic guitar.
Marc Russo – The Doobie Brothers
Tom Johnston and John McFee – The Doobie Brothers
Mavis Staples American rhythm, blues, and gospel singer; actress; and civil rights activist, Mavis Staples scored her first hit in 1956, and has continued to influence music to the present (see: Blues Women Rock!).
Patti Smith I’ve mentioned Patricia Lee “Patti” Smith before in Blues Women Rock! An American singer-songwriter, poet, and visual artist, she became a “punk poet laureate” with the album Horses in the mid 70s.
Rickie Lee Jones Another woman who was part of the soundscape of my youth, Rickie Lee Joneslooked tiny next to her big guitar – but her personality and sound commanded attention (see: Blues Women Rock).
Jimmy Buffet On the second day of this year’s Bluesfest, the older festival-goers were all decked out in their Key West – Margaritaville-inspired flowery clothing, ready for the escapist, feel-good music of Jimmy Buffett and his band. I’m not sure who had more fun during the performance: Jimmy, or the “Parrotheads” in the audience!
Bonnie Raitt With a career spanning from the 1970s, blues singer-songwriter, musician, and activist, Bonnie Raitt was part of the zeitgeist of my era.
Buddy Guy It is clear that 80-year-old Buddy Guy loves what he does. We’ve enjoyed him before and caught him twice this year: he’s a virtuoso musician and consummate performer. As Jimi Hendrix once said: “Heaven is lying at Buddy Guy’s feet while listening to him play the guitar.”
Waiting for Jethro Tull Another day, another packed-out tent: this time waiting for Jethro Tull, the legendary British group dating back to the late 1960s.
Ian Anderson and Florian Opahle The lead vocalist and flautist for Jethro Tull, Ian Anderson, is the driving force behind the progressive rock band. German rock guitarist Florian Opahle is the youngest regular musician to work with the group.
Santana on the Screen People take pictures of the backdrop as they wait for the next big name to make it out onto the Crossroads stage.
Santana under Lights I have loved the music of Mexican-American guitarist Carlos Santana since my days of high school “Sock-Hops” – the pre-cursers to Discos, before “discs” were even invented.
Santana on Guitar His distinctive guitar melodies set against Latin and African rhythms have seen him listed as number 20 on the 2003 Rolling Stone magazine list of the 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time.
Cindy Blackman Percussion has always been an important part of Santana’s music. The featured drum solo went to the jazz percussionist, Cindy Blackman-Santana.
Madness Graham “Suggs” McPherson has been the lead vocalist of the English ska band Madness (formed in 1976) since 1977. Most of their songs that we recognised dated to the 80s and later.
Tony Joe White “Swamp Music” is a genre all it’s own, and Tony Joe White is the epitome.In spite of being born eons away from swamps, I connect – immediately!
Hearing again those songs that were played daily on the radio, or that I listened to in a friend’s room via 45’s or albums, I was taken straight back into the past –
– not the real past, of course;
the remembered past, filtered by the lived years in between.
I SO love that I can enjoy the music and the memories without really going back to the world that was when I was that age!
[…] Some are big names that take me back to my youth (see, for example: Bring on the Big Names; The Soundtrack of my Youth; Musical Name-Dropping; The Sound of Sunshine); others are more contemporary favourites that I […]ReplyCancel
A Man and his Goods There are so many nuts and spices for sale in Old Delhi’s Chandni Chowk that they extend beyond the shops and into the streets.
India is a sensory feast: a multilayered tapestry of sights and sounds in colours that pulsate, wrapped in a rich weave of smells, where the aromas of flowers and cardamon battle with the stink of dust and refuse and the unwashed. Even the air has tangible depth.
Nowhere is this better epitomised than in Chandni Chowk, one of the oldest and busiest markets in Old Delhi.
Designed by the favourite daughter of the ruling Emperor Shah Jahan in 1650, the bazaar originally featured a central pool – long since gone – which shimmered in the moonlight, leading to the name: Chandni Chowk or “Moonlight Square”. The area is still home to historic mansions and the ageing homes of tradesmen and craftsmen; old mosques, churches, temples and shrines; and shops and restaurants selling all manners of goods and foods. Said to be the largest wholesale market in Asia, the goods and services spill out of the myriad of shops and into the rabbit warren of streets already packed with boxes, people, stray dogs, and the odd car. Some of the winding laneways are positively claustrophobic, with unbroken rows of four-story shophouses closing out the sunlight, and a hot, muggy sky, tangled with electrical wires and the odd bits of tinsel overhead.
And, like everywhere else in India, it is almost as if the colour and the chaos is putting on a cultural show especially for the passing tourists. I’ve spent time in Chandni Chowk on a few occasions over the years: twice with organised photography groups, and once on my own. On each visit, I’ve discovered something different. And, each time, people have either posed for portraits, or actively invited me and my camera to play “voyeur” as they go about their daily lives.
Truly a photographer’s paradise!
Street in Chandni Chowk The streets that make up Chandni Chowk are always crowded: full of pedestrians and people on cycle-rickshaws clutching their purchases.
Crowded Laneway From turbaned Sikhs …
Chandni Chowk Shoppers … to beaded and pony-tailed Hindu priests – …
Shop Fronts … there is something for everyone.
Old Woman Selling Flowers Not everyone has their own shop. A simple burlap tent is one way of demarcating territory. Marigolds are always in demand as temple offerings.
Melons My favourite part of any market is the fresh produce…
Vegetable Grocer … and the characters who sell it.
Man Selling Vegetables
Juice Wallah I’ll settle for a smile!
Pouring Juice You can buy freshly squeezed juice on the street.
School Kids There is a new sight around every corner. These children were piled into their pedicab to go to school. It always amazes me how crisp and clean they always look!
Men on a Stoop
Muslim Shopkeeper
More Marigolds There are temples and shrines throughout the market, so flower sellers do a good business.
Chandni Chowk Gateway There are the odd quiet corners, …
A Heavy Load … but most laneways are a hive of activity.
Spice Shop Khari Baoli Street in Chandni Chowk is the spice market …
Spice Seller … where all kinds of spices, nuts, herbs and other dried food products are available.
Dried Foods in Khari Baoli Dried fruits, nuts, spices and pulses are priced and on display.
Men Playing Cards All kinds of activities are conducted in the streets; …
Street Barber … the local barbers have customers lined up …
Close Shave …for shaves and haircuts.
Pappadum Shop The shops are crammed full …
Pappadums … with their colourful goods.
Pappadum Shopkeeper
Religious Paraphernalia
Khari Baoli Road Shophouses and their billboards, wooden carts, pedicabs, piles of rubbish, and traffic: the wholesale spice market is a busy place.
Dog in Chandni Chowk Street dogs just watch the scene.
Young Man at a Shopfront
I love Chandni Chowk – but I have to limit my time there. In this network of crowded streets full of shops and people, “sensory feast” can easily tip into “sensory overload”.
Like an overly-rich meal, a little can go a long way!
Until next time,
Happy travels!
Pictures: 12April2008, 08April2010, and 04November 2013
Nomad on the Horseback The lifestyle of Mongolian nomads is firmly rooted in the past – but they in no way eschew modern comforts. Herding sheep and cattle may be easier on horseback, but a shiny new bike is handy for the trips to the nearest (distant) town.
Think of Mongolia, and you think of nomads.
Nomads on horseback, driving their herds of goats, sheep, cattle and horses across the vast, rugged expanses of Central Asia, are still an important feature of the Mongolian landscape. In spite of a 2.78% annual rate of urbanisation (according to the CIA World Factbook), Mongolia still has one of the smallest urban populations in the region, and the nomadic idea is an integral part of the national psyche.
About 30% of Mongolians are nomadic or semi-nomadic, spending at least their summers in their portable ger housing close to their animals’ grazing lands, and living much as they have for hundreds of years. The herds live off the land, and the nomads live off the milk, meat and skins of their livestock. Fermented mare’s milk – airag – is popular, and milking the horses is one of the many daily activities (see: From Kharkhorin To Tariat).
This is not to say that nothing has changed.
Thanks to the advent of solar panels, between 60 and 70 percent of the nomadic population now has access to electricity for their mobile phones, radios, televisions, and electric lights. Children generally study in the cities, many at boarding schools, returning to their families’ ger camps during the summer. While horse culture is still central to nomadic life (Mongolia is home to more horses than people), reliance on horseback is reduced by motorcycles and trucks.
I was crossing the Mongolian steppes with a small group of photographic enthusiasts, under the leadership of local guides G and Segi, and photographers Jeffrey Chapman and Winslow Lockhart from Within the Frame. We had spent most of the long day before bumping along in our Russian UAZ (Ulyanovsky Avtomobilny Zavod) four-wheel-drive vehicles (see: Tosontsengel to Har Termes Uul), so it was a great relief when on this – our fifth day on the steppes – we pulled in to visit a family of nomads.
Do come along!
Hut on the Lakefront We started our day across the road from the popular summer destination, Khyargas Lake – deserted in the late-September low-season.
Unbelievably Rustic! To call our hotel rustic is to give it too much credit! I’m not sure what the outdoor ‘pool’ is about; there are no toilets or running water inside. (iNstagram)
Cabins on Khyargas Lake The cabins across the road – presumably also without plumbing – have far more charm. (iNstagram)
Mountains in the Distance Snow-capped mountains float in the distance as we continue our drive west, …
Gatekeepers Cottage … stopping at the boom gate …
Ulaangom .. before driving into Ulaangom (Улаангом: Red Valley), the local provincial capital, just 120 kilometres (70 m) south of the Russian border. We stopped for supplies – including sweets for the family of nomads we were about to visit. (iPhone6)
Nomad’s Ger A traditional ger (Mongolian; yurt in Turkic languages) is a round tent covered with skins and felt used as a portable home by nomads in the steppes of Central Asia. Today their construction might include plastic tarps, and their transport from one place to another is more likely to be by truck rather than by ox cart.
Children of the Ger It was unclear to me how many families were gathered in the ger, …
Child of the Ger … but there were three or four young children in the group.
Inside the Ger Inside the home is remarkably spacious. The central stove for heating and cooking has warm fermented mare’s milk, or airag, on it. This is served with yak butter in it. Not my favourite drink – it tastes a bit like warm yogurt.
Sewing Circle A group of women has gathered in the ger to sew pelts together.
Hands at Work With their leather thimbles, the women work quickly …
Sewing Skins … putting together a patchwork of beautifully soft cashmere (otherwise called pashmina) goat pelts.
Nomadic Woman
Mother and Son Mum, in traditional clothing, sits in front of a very-modern power-storage system.
Mum and Toddler This little urchin already has a mouthful of the candies we have brought with us on our guide’s advice.
Nomadic Man and Child
Nomadic Man Back outside, a man in his traditional deel overcoat and heavy boots …
Nomadic Man … poses for pictures.
Mongolian Nomad
Mongolian Ponies “A Mongol without a horse is like a bird without the wings.” The rugged local horses are central to Mongolian nomadic culture.
A Man and his Horse Every member of the family is likely to have their own favourite animal.
We said our farewells, returned to our trucks and continued across the open plains westward …
… day-dreaming about almost-wild Mongolian ponies.
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
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We hope to get back there one day soon.
