England: Formby Sands and Southport

This was a truly wonderful day that included a visit to an artisans’ market at a lavender farm, rare red squirrel spotting in the forests behind Formby Sands followed by a long walk along that glorious long sandy beach, topped off by a walk along lovely Lord Street, the esplanade and England’s second longest pier at Southport.

Sarah drove, I navigated – most of the time successfully! Up the M6, along the A580, for a visit to Inglenook Lavender Farm. By chance there was an artisan’s market on so we checked out the stalls – there was nothing of great interest, though I was very impressed with the chainsaw sculptures and and we did get ourselves some yummy lunch for a picnic later.

There was only one small field of lavender, which was a little disappointing – I was expecting fields and fields, great expanses of the stuff. Sarah thought it was because they’d already harvested the lavender but there didn’t seem to be anything in the surrounding fields. Still, there were some guinea fowl and some very cute black-faced sheep mooching around in that one lavender field, which made for a few good photos. I actually took lots of photos but failed to get a single one in really sharp focus, so I was annoyed at myself for that. I think my eyes are the problem – wearing distance lenses and trying to focus on a close subject. That’s my excuse anyway!

Onwards, along more country lanes lined with fertile fields planted with various crops and edged and dotted with interesting-looking old farmhouses and barns. We picked up drinks and chocolate muffins at a Tesco supermarket, then eventually found ourselves at Formby, home to the wealthy footballers who play for Manchester United and Liverpool. I’m sure a few of them sped impatiently past us in their flash cars as we drove more sedately through the streets full of their large, expensive houses.

Head past those streets and you’ll come to an area of extensive pine woodlands, towering sand dunes and the Formby Sands, a long and exceedingly beautiful stretch of coastline that borders the Irish Sea. We ate our picnic lunch, then strolled through the woodlands, hoping to spot one of the small population of red squirrels that lives amongst the trees. The reds used to be the only squirrel species in the UK, until the brash American greys were introduced in the late 1800s – not only do they digest acorns better, they also brought the pox virus with them, which decimated the local red population. Luckily, the reds are making a comeback in this haven at Formby and, even more luckily, we managed to spot a couple. They move fast though, so my photos aren’t very sharp.

We then headed across the dunes and down to the beach for a bracing walk in the stiff breeze. It is a popular place for family picnics, long beach strolls, walking the dog or riding a horse, flying kites and wakeboarding, or trying to locate the prehistoric animal and human footprints that can sometimes be found in the silt beds along the shoreline. We didn’t find any of those, but did spot plenty of black-headed gulls and washed-up jellyfish, marvelled at the large array of wind turbines sited out to sea, and could just make out the tower and the huge rollercoaster across the shimmering water at Blackpool.

Our last stop of the day was Southport, a seaside town that was particularly popular around the turn of the 19th century. Its architecture reflects those halcyon days, with several interesting buildings dotting the Esplanade and even more along the main road, Lord Street. There are some grand sculptural features, including carved heads and classical columns, wrought iron verandahs cover the footpaths, and, in the summer months, gorgeous flowering baskets beautify the streets. Lord Street has a wide central strip with an impressive war memorial, bandstand, cafés and gardens – it’s all very grandiose for a relatively small city.

As well as being by the seaside, Stockport has a large seawater lake / lagoon that we walked around – seagulls and Canada geese competed for my camera’s attention, as did the big suspension bridge over the water. Southport also has the second-longest pier in England but we only got halfway along its 1112 metres as it closes at night – we had left that part of our wander till last, thinking to watch the sun set over the water.

Dinner that evening was fish and chips – so appropriate after a day at the seaside, and rather delicious it was too! And then we had a 45-minute drive home, an extremely quiet trip along the M6 as most people were glued to their televisions, watching the World Cup final.

Three go mad in Piha

Piha beach is about 40 kilometres from central Auckland city, on the west coast. The mighty Tasman Sea rolls – sometimes thunders – onto this long stretch of black iron-sand, which is divided by the huge and iconic Lion Rock. Though the rock is looking less and less like a lion as water and wind erode its leonine profile, it is still an easily-recognisable feature of what is, arguably, New Zealand’s best-known surf beach.

Surfing and swimming here can be dangerous, as the beach has rips and currents that can pull your feet out from under you in an instant so, in summer, it’s always best to swim between the flags. In the winter, the volunteer lifeguards leave those crazy enough to swim the cold waters to guard their own safety and there are usually only a few hardy surfers braving the waves.

On Saturday it was wonderfully warm, considering it’s mid winter, and the forecast rain had not yet arrived, though the clouds rolling in from the north east hinted at a few showers later – and also made for some dramatic skies. We had a mouth-wateringly delicious lunch at the Piha Café before our walk – their Ginger Steamer was divine – then walked that off along the sands.

It’s a great place for a walk, especially in winter, when the black sand hasn’t been heated by the sun’s rays to sole-scorching temperatures. You can climb up part of the Lion – the path to the very top has now been closed due to crumbling rock – as my friends Sue and Rosie did yesterday, leaving me to stroll the shore looking for photo opportunities. 

We didn’t exactly go as mad as my title implies, but we did come away invigorated by the refreshing blast of sea air. A superb afternoon!

Sihanoukville: sun and sand, with a touch of sleaze

Our hotel, the Golden Sand, was rather grand looking from the outside but inside was rather ordinary. The bathroom didn’t have a shower per se, but was instead a wet room – i.e. there was a shower head attached to the wall and a drain in one corner. Fine in principle, but not in practice. It simply meant the floor of the bathroom was almost constantly wet, making it difficult to put your clothes on without them also getting damp, and we got wet feet every time we needed to go in there. The breakfast buffet was excellent with a huge variety of taste temptations – full marks there! The wifi was intermittent and occasionally showed a login screen in Russian – just shows who the majority of guests were!

We were a short walk from Ochheuteal Beach which, to me, at first sight, was horrifying. Being a New Zealander, I am used to mile upon mile of sandy shore, with plenty of space between beach-goers, who carry along their own beach umbrellas and chilly bins and rugs and picnics. Not here! The beaches in Cambodia are more reminiscent of European beaches, where restaurants and bars compete for space above the high tide line and each have their own tables, chairs and deckchairs lined up in front, almost down to the water.

So, you can quite easily end up check-by-jowl with some disgustingly huge beer-bellied male, offering a meal of his German sausage to a pretty young Khmer woman waitress – yes, we did actually overhear that conversation! We also saw many an older Western male with extremely young-looking local girls –and I don’t even want to imagine what their relationship was. I was, at different times, ashamed, embarrassed and disgusted with my fellow Westerners who have brought their low morals and obscene habits to a country where extreme poverty forces some people to do things they would never otherwise dream of doing.

However, don’t let these things put you off visiting this beautiful place. Ochheuteal Beach is 5 kilometres long – I know, we walked every inch of it – so, if you just keep walking, you will reach a point where only the local people enjoy themselves frolicking in the warm waters or, even further, to where you almost feel like you have the beach to yourself. And there are several other beaches to vary your days. Serendipity is just the name for one end of Ochheuteal, and is full of restaurants and guesthouses but no golden sandy beach, so a place to eat, drink and sleep but not to swim. Outres is a mini Ochheuteal, not as long, not as crowded, but certainly just as beautiful. Independence Beach is even quieter, though one end is reserved for guests of the resort hotel built there. And Sokha Beach is the same – a blue-uniformed guard blows his whistle at those beach-goers who dare stray on to the sands reserved for those wealthy enough to stay at the Sokha Resort.

You can eat and drink well at any of the beach-side restaurants and bars for a relatively small amount of money. Happy hours that extend for several hours and offer two-for-one cocktails are the norm, so it’s no wonder drunkenness is rife! Most bartenders make a mean margarita; many, but not all, mix a spicy Bloody Mary – all for about US$2.50. A simple chicken and vegetable fried rice would cost about the same, freshly barbecued seafood or chicken perhaps US$4. There is also no shortage of women wandering the beach, with huge trays of cooked seafood or fresh fruit precariously balanced on their heads. Others carry raw food and a lit brazier at each end of a long pole, supported on their strong shoulders, and cook the food at your request.

Many other traders sell their goods along the beachfront as well: sunglass hawkers, souvenir sellers and women who will give various parts of your body a massage, provide manicures and pedicures, and even thread your legs free of any stray body hairs! After a couple of cocktails one evening, Marianne and I both enjoyed foot massages and had our toenails painted bright purple.

Last, but most certainly not least, the sunsets at these beaches are to die for! Whether by accident or design, there are usually half a dozen of the local wooden longboats moored offshore, making for striking silhouettes against the lowering sun. Combine this with a long cool cocktail enjoyed while lounging in a deck chair at the water’s edge … bliss!

Sihanoukville may have its critics, and it certainly does have an element of sleaze, but I would have no hesitation in returning to its sandy shores.

Kep: crab capital of Cambodia

The drive from Phnom Penh to Kep takes about 3 hours and was particularly pleasant in the air-conditioned comfort of a nice car, luckily with a very good driver as the roads can be hazardous. The secret to driving here appears to involve never hesitating while always keeping a keen eye on everything else on the road, including dogs and cows, people and bicycles, motorbikes and tuk tuks, cars, trucks and buses.

As with the road down from Siem Reap, the countryside outside of Phnom Penh was mostly flat but as we got closer to the coast there were hills, some quite rugged, and in Kep our hotel, the Beach House, was built on a hillside overlooking the beach and the waters of the Gulf of Thailand.

A statue of a woman looking out to see for her fisherman husband
at the end of the main beach at Kep

After dumping our bags, we headed straight across the road to the beach for a paddle as the boys had never been to the seaside before and, bearing in mind they are 17 and 24 years old, were incredibly excited – their wide white grins were a joy to see. The sea was incredibly warm, almost as hot as the humid tropical air.

Kep is particularly famous for its delicious crabs and, just as other places have huge statues of their typical food product (Ohakune has its carrot and Woombye its big pineapple), so Kep has its large statue of a crab – a male crab I am reliably told – something to do with the width of the central plate on its tummy!

Later that first afternoon we walked the 3 kilometres around the bays to the crab market. A small troop of monkeys were feeding and frolicking in the trees above one of the old abandoned houses that litter the coast around Kep. According to our guide book, Kep was founded in 1908 as a beach resort for French colonials and thrived for 60-odd years as their favourite holiday destination. But then the French abandoned their luxurious villas after independence and many still stand, empty crumbling shells of once magnificent buildings.

Both the sunset, which we enjoyed at the one of the restaurants near the crab market, and the crabs we ate later were superb, as were all the other types of fresh seafood we savoured in Kep – prawns, shrimps, fish, squid and octopus. Seafood is my absolute favourite food so I was in heaven, except for one meal. Be warned, “deep-fried prawns in powder” is actually battered deep-fried prawns, with more batter than prawn and nothing else to accompany this rather disappointing dish.

Kep is quite spread out so the following morning’s walk took us a few kilometres in the opposite direction to the market, to the pier where the boats to Rabbit Island depart. We booked for the following morning and spent the rest of the day relaxing, the boys and Marianne swimming in the sea and the hotel pool, me sitting on a chair overlooking the bay, sometimes writing, sometimes just enjoying the view. Another evening, another sunset, more beers and succulent seafood! 

We woke to the sound of rain, which became almost torrential as the morning progressed. But the locals assured us it would clear by lunch time and it did allow some time to catch up on blogs and emails and writing. We also made a new, bright green friend, which turned out to be a coconut locust that looked like a leaf – its method of protection from predators, I assume.

The locals were right about the weather, so we tuk-tukked round to catch our boat around 11am. There we encountered a problem: we had paid for a private boat so we could come and go when we pleased but our boatman tried to rip us off by bringing a parcel of locals and 2 German backpackers along for the ride. No big deal, you might think, but if you don’t stand up against scams like this, the local people will continue to try them, tourists will become disgruntled and not return. So, we argued the point and eventually negotiated a refund of $10 off our initial price of $30, which means we actually got the return trip for $5 per person, cheaper than the usual $7 or $8 per person price.

It was a slow pleasant chug out to Rabbit Island in one of the wooden longboats the locals normally use for fishing. I’m not sure why the island is so-named as there were no rabbits and it wasn't shaped like one either; there was just a line of small wooden huts roofed with palm fronds and a sprinkle of shack-type restaurants designed for those tourists seeking a desert island experience. Everything was fairly basic and the island might well resemble paradise except for all the rubbish everywhere.

The island is relatively small, just 6 kilometres around and there’s supposed to be a track circling the island. But it is very overgrown and, in places, difficult to negotiate, so we only managed to visit 3 bays before the path petered out. To continue we would have had to clamber over jagged rocks or risk severe scratching by forcing our way through the sometime spiky undergrowth so we did neither. It was still a nice walk, watching crabs scuttle along the sand, collecting shells, and paddling in the warm water. The locals who don’t earn their living catering to the tourists are fishermen and we passed a tiny village of 4 or 5 scraggy huts where the men were repairing their nets, chickens ran squawking about and shy children peeked at us through hut windows.

It was nice to see the island while it was still relatively unspoilt as I imagine a return visit in 5 years’ time might find a concrete-block resort building dominating the beach front, though I fervently hope that won’t happen.

A woman checks the crab pots

We enjoyed another magnificent sunset – I took 55 photos in just one hour! – and salivated over more delicious seafood, and that is certainly how I will remember Kep, for its fresh succulent crabs and the stunning colours of its sky as the sun went down.

Locals swim as the sun sets over Kep beach

New Zealand holiday: week one

Either I used my return ticket to New Zealand, or I would lose it. No contest really! I also needed to use my annual leave or I’d lose it. And, though I hadn’t really missed much about New Zealand – no great cravings for peanut slabs or pineapple lumps like some people do – I yearned particularly to see the sea again. I hadn’t realised how much I would miss living close to water until I lived in land-locked and mountain-enclosed Cusco. And I knew it would be wonderful to catch up with friends and family again.

Plans were made, flights reserved, accommodation booked in – THANK YOU SO MUCH, dear Rosie, for welcoming me into your beautiful home so I could enjoy the delights of Titirangi again.

So, how has it been? Well, this year one of my projects on Google+ (where I am daily inspired by the amazing images of my photographer peers, have been welcomed into their photographic community, have been co-opted to co-curate a daily theme page, and frequently contribute my own humble pictures) has been to take one photo every day and post it to a special album. For me this has become something of a personal diary, as I’ve taken images that show aspects of my life, where I’m living, what I’m doing, what surrounds me, what I see.

To document my holiday in New Zealand, I thought I would share the images I have been taking as part of my 366 project, so here’s week one.

366/90 March 30, 2012

I lost a day travelling here to New Zealand so I'm adding two shots for one day to make up for it. Both epitomise my first day back in Auckland, as the friend I'm staying with lives in the bush (NZ's name for forest) so we are surrounded by greenery. This is looking down from her deck into the top of a huge fern (punga in the NZ Maori language).

366/91 March 31, 2012

One thing I have greatly missed living in Cusco has been water! Coming from New Zealand, an island nation, I have been surrounded by water most of my life. It was so amazing yesterday going to Piha beach, on Auckland's west coast, for a walk along the beach.

366/92 April 1, 2012

Another day, another beach ... this is the long long beach at Waipu Cove, on New Zealand's east coast, just south of Whangarei. It feels like you could walk forever!

366/92 April 2, 2012

This is the bark of New Zealand's most famous tree, the kauri. They grow straight and thick, and have very dense hard wood so, when the Europeans arrived in New Zealand in the early 1800s and quickly recognised the value of the kauri, there was mass felling of the trees for use in ship and house building, and for making furniture. As a result of this mass destruction of the kauri forests, it is now a protected species and cannot be felled. The largest kauri tree in New Zealand is approximately 45 feet (14 metres) in circumference and 169 feet (52 metres) tall.

366/94 April 03, 2012

Winter's coming ... but isn't it pretty?

366/95 April 4, 2012

This is one of the oldest buildings on Auckland's waterfront, the former Union Steamship Company office. The architecture of the newer buildings is not particularly inspiring, so I'm glad they haven't demolished some of these older ones.

399/96 April 05, 2012

A sunhat ... an essential accessory in New Zealand, which has the second highest rate of skin cancer in the world.

366/97 April 06, 2012

It's been a glorious Good Friday here in Auckland so my friend Rosie and I joined the throngs at Muriwai, a stunning 60-kilometre-long west coast beach not far from the city. A superb day for a long walk on the sands!