Yacht delivery Tahiti-Tonga

28 12 2016

Here’s a story I wrote for ‘The Captain’ magazine about a yacht trip I undertook from Tahiti to Tonga.

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On the day we hooked a 70kg blue marlin, we weren’t supposed to be fishing at all.

Four days into a sailing trip between Tahiti and Tonga, our little freezer was already filled with fresh wahoo and mahi mahi, so the chef asked us to stop fishing. But the crew tend to get bored on long daytime watches and fishing provides occasional bursts of excitement.

So no one was particularly upset when the battered old Penn reel started screaming, although I did notice it wasn’t stopping this time. Even when Timbo set the drag to full lock, that fish just kept on pulling.

The big diesel was knocked into neutral as Timbo began clawing a few metres of line back. Behind him, the crew discussed what type of giant critter had nearly spooled us.

After a long fight where the fish stayed deep, we settled on a big tuna, so everyone was pretty surprised when the bronzed flanks of a lit-up blue marlin broke the surface. Our next discussion was titled: “What the hell do we do now?”

A 90ft highly-varnished yacht with an overhanging stern offers no water-level access and we weren’t that keen on manhandling a feisty billfish over the side rail. Luckily, the marlin solved this dilemma for us by throwing the lure as it thrashed alongside the boat. In the cockpit, the chef breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to reorganise the freezer.

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WEST FROM TAHITI

My mission was to help five mates deliver Kealoha, a stunning 27m Andre Hoek sloop, 1200 nautical miles from Tahiti to Tonga.

A leisurely yacht delivery with friends through the Pacific during winter? They didn’t need to ask twice.

While Melbourne suffered through countless freezing thunderstorms, I’d be barefoot, eating poisson cru in the sun. And fishing. Towing lures through the tropical Pacific. Yep.

So how did this come about? The yacht is owned by a US family who employs my buddy James as captain and his wife, Jodie, as chef-stewardess. They run the boat year-round with the help of a third crewmember.

The owner decides he wants a trip in Tahiti with his family? Take the boat to Tahiti and show ‘em a good time. Tonga next? Hire some delivery crew and get the yacht to Tonga – that’s where I came in.

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PAPEETE TOUR

This was how I found myself climbing off a plane into the fragrant, steamy air of Tahiti for the first time. And weirdly, after heading east across the International Date Line, I managed to land in Papeete before the time I boarded the plane in Sydney (don’t think too hard about this).

The next day, fellow delivery-bloke Timbo and I hired scooters to explore Papeete in the rain. Tahiti’s most heavily-populated island is still impressively pretty (and probably even better in the sunshine).

Unfortunately our schedule didn’t allow time to check out nearby Moorea which is apparently more rugged and wild, but we did find time to squeeze in a pilgrimage to the island’s famed big-wave surf spot  – Teahupo’o. Luckily it was flat, so there was no pressure to paddle out and probably die.

After a rowdy reunion with the crew,  we busied ourselves changing the yacht from ‘guest mode’ to ‘delivery mode’. This involves covering up anything shiny, stowing anything that looks breakable and filling the forward cabin with our collection of sails and surfboards.

We also brought onboard emergency water supplies, checked the mast and boom for any loose bits and fuelled up.

Jodie also loaded an incredible $3000 worth of groceries onto the yacht. If you needed any confirmation that Tahiti might be the world’s most expensive to shop, I present a $20 bunch of asparagus as evidence.

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BLUE SKIES AHEAD

At 7am the next morning, we cast off the lines and pointed west. Twenty minutes out, Tahitian drizzle gave way to Pacific sunshine and we were ploughing along using the mainsail and headsail, doing 9kts as the wind filled in.

After a safety briefing for the newly-arrived crew, everyone settled into their watch routines. My own watch ran from 4-8pm and again from 4-8am, meaning I scored both sunset and sunrise – the best parts of the day at sea.

It sounds like a cliché, but everyone deserves to experience the sun rising over the ocean with no land in sight, as a cup of tea warms your hands after a long night. Epic stuff.

Life onboard passes quickly, with plenty of magazines, guitars, and backgammon tournaments to keep the crew entertained between sailing manoeuvres. Night watches usually involve solving various global problems over more cups of tea.

More importantly, long sailing journeys provide the perfect opportunity for my favourite form of fishing – the lazy man’s bluewater trolling.

Simply toss a few skirted lures out the back, set the drag and forget about them until dinner hooks itself. Not pro-active enough, I hear you say? Perhaps, but it’s still pretty bloody effective.

Few days passed without us hooking something – we landed a solid wahoo after a marathon fight, just out from Papeete, but as you head further offshore, it’s mostly mahi mahi on offer.

These colourful bruisers never fail to put on an acrobatic show and, for my money they’re one of the most delicious fish to ever hit the grill. Having a talented sushi chef on board doesn’t hurt either.

DCIM104GOPRO

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LAND AHOY
As we gradually sailed west, the wind swung into the east, so we turned Kealoha toward the south-west for a better sailing angle. One of the surprising realities of life on a sailing yacht is that you rarely get to aim it exactly where you want to go.

While having the wind from directly astern might sound ideal, it actually translates to an annoying rolling motion onboard. But if you bear away at an angle, the yacht steadies herself nicely.

Around four days out from Tahiti, we close to the remote island of Niue and it was around 25nm offshore that the blue marlin struck.

It was the first big billfish our crew had hooked on Kealoha, although her bow bears the scars of a previous encounter – a long gouge scraped out of the antifouling a few years back. Weeks later while cruising Tonga they would catch a sailfish too – testament to the healthy waters in these parts.

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After six days at sea, we crossed the International Date Line again near Tonga and put the clock forward 23 hours, which was as strange as it sounds.

As we approached land (or where we thought it should be), it was impossible to see much as a heavy squall blasted across the decks. On the upside, the yacht got a freshwater rinse as we used the radar to edge in toward Tonga.

Our first glimpse of the northern island group was underwhelming, the land cloaked in mist and fog while we skirted steep cliffs. But after slipping between some jungle-covered islands, we reached our destination of Neifau harbour, a lush protected inlet of Vava’u island.

Now, the first step of clearing into a new country by boat involves touching base with local authorities. Our local yachting agent had been expecting us, so we called him up on the VHF radio.

This friendly fella informed the captain that our friends from another yacht, Kawila, were relaxing in his bar and we should all come ashore and join them. But we hadn’t cleared in yet? No worries – do it tomorrow. Island time!

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TONGA IS TOPS

The next few days passed in a blur of drying wet sails and gear, as we ran through multiple checklists for cleaning the yacht. But there was still time for a snorkelling trip with Tonga’s humpback whales.

The opportunity to snorkel with whales exists almost nowhere else and is as easy as it is awe-inspiring. The charter boats cruise about until the captain finds some relaxed whales swimming slowly, then you jump in with a guide and squeal your lungs out underwater.

In between leaping overboard for another humpback encounter, you’re cruising around Tonga’s vast collection of dreamy islets, observing whales breach and blow in every direction. It’s a genuine once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Tonga is incredible, a deadset watersports wonderland. Fishing, sailing, diving, kiting, surfing, spearfishing, and freediving are all super-accessible in the warm, clear waters.

There are also terrific local markets near Neifau port with delicious tropical goodies and friendly locals selling handmade crafts. As an introduction to Tonga, Vava’u and the nearby islands left a heck of an impression.

I’m not entirely sure when I’ll next get to travel there by yacht, but I don’t think I can wait that long. Winter is here and the Pacific is calling…

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Superyacht racing in NZ

28 12 2016

So I haven’t updated this blog for a loooong time. I guess other things have seemed more pressing.

Anyway, here’s a story I wrote for Club Marine magazine on a superyacht regatta I crewed in Bay of Islands, New Zealand this year:

[Images by Jeff Brown]

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Click the link below for full story.

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the best camera

16 05 2013

There’s a saying in photography that, ” … the best camera is the one that’s with you.”

Meaning, there’s no point having a Canon 7D if you’re always leaving it at home because it’s too big to carry about.

iPhones have only proven this point further. Often I can’t even be bothered slipping my compact S100 in my pocket, but most times, my phone is about.

With this in mind I shot this latest European trip on my iPhone only — a quick blast to beautiful Mallorca for an amazing wedding, plus a few days either side in London.

Any post-processing was done on the phone itself, using Snapseed. Maybe not the best shots, but they’re the shots I took with the camera I had.

Let’s get into it:

SHOREDITCH. I don't know what's going on here. I like that it's some sort of meta-thing about the subject of the lost poster becoming lost.

SHOREDITCH.
I don’t know what’s going on here. I like that it’s some sort of meta-thing about the subject of the lost poster becoming lost.

SHOREDITCH, nr BRICK LANE. Nice street art round this way.

SHOREDITCH, nr BRICK LANE. Nice street art round this way.

BATTERSEA. Cool to see some old signage and typography remaining here n there.

BATTERSEA.
Cool to see some old signage and typography remaining here n there.

SHOREDITCH. Street art by Roa.

SHOREDITCH.
Street art by Roa.

PALMA. The catedral is impressive from any angle. Damn it's big. Take that, Moors.

PALMA.
The catedral is impressive from any angle. Damn it’s big. Take that, Moors.

BUNYOLA. View of our mad villa from the train.

BUNYOLA.
View of our mad villa from the train.

BUNYOLA. Looking across to Villa Francisca from Villa Barcelona with the Serra de Tramuntana beyond

BUNYOLA.
Looking across to Villa Francisca from Villa Barcelona with the Serra de Tramuntana beyond

WEDDING GAMES. 'Battleshots' which we created as a wedding present.

WEDDING GAMES.
‘Battleshots’ which we created as a wedding present.

HONOR VELL. Wedding venue under the hills

HONOR VELL.
Wedding venue under the hills

HONOR VELL. This guy cooked enough paella for EVERYONE.

HONOR VELL.
This guy cooked enough paella for EVERYONE.

BUNYOLA Kimbo and FuzzPeach enjoying themselves.

BUNYOLA
Kimbo and FuzzPeach enjoying themselves.

BUNYOLA Entry courtyard for Villa Barcelona (stables too, I guess).

BUNYOLA
Entry courtyard for Villa Barcelona (stables too, I guess).

PALMA Downtown delicatessen, Mallorcquian style.

PALMA
Downtown delicatessen, Mallorcquian style.

PALMA Catedral again.

PALMA
Catedral again.

AIRBOURNE The sheer horror, excess and waste, that is an Air Brunei meal.

AIRBOURNE
The sheer horror, excess and waste, that is an Air Brunei meal.

LONDON. Stoked to see the RouteMaster buses still in action. I heard they were extinct.

LONDON.
Stoked to see the RouteMaster buses still in action. I heard they were extinct.

KENGSINGTON. Pretty church at dusk

KENSINGTON.
Pretty church at dusk

KENSINGTON. Posh, bland houses and stupid cars. Ahh, rich people...

KENSINGTON.
Posh, bland houses and stupid cars. Ahh, rich people…

 

 

 





Sri Lanka Part Two

24 04 2013

A selection of further random observations from our Sri Lanka trip:

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Negombo

Now, I don’t wanna start this blog entry on a downer. Consider it more of a warning, perhaps. But Negombo – the first place most visitors will experience as they arrive in Sri Lanka – is an out-n-out shithole.

I won’t be argued with on this point. Here is a town with zero redeeming features. OK, it’s close to the airport. But that’s where it ends.

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Beautiful Negombo

An uninspiring beachside strip of bland hotels and rundown restaurants, a grubby beach and not much else.

A few wandering, confused Euro tourists; an overcast, sullen air. This was a town to leave behind, and fast.

In fact my overwhelming impression of Negombo was a frightening insight into what a post-apocalyptic world might look like.

For one thing the town is overrun by crows. And even if you’ve never seen the Omen movies, crows are creepy as shit. Pecking your eyes out and stuff…

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Ever-present crows. Cover your eyes…!

Throw in some crumbling hotels, a filthy beach littered with dead things, grey skies and a pervading air of hopelessness.

Inner-city canals turned an odd shade of blue by wastewater runoff. A fish market surrounded by enormous rotting fish heads.

And weird, raggedy fishing boats with cloth sails scrounging the seas for whatever is left.

Straight out of the Sri Lankan Mad Max.

Don’t hang about in Negombo, dudes….

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It might not look that rainy. But it was. OK?

A bad day at the office.

Wow, this blog entry is sounding all whiney. We had a good time in Sri Lanka, honest.

But I thought I might relate to you the trials of one of our toughest days, whereby we rode through the rain for eight hours on breaking-down bikes.

Here goes:

We leave our overnight accommodation ‘Little Dream’ and head south toward Mahiyanganya (pronounced Mar-younger-ny-ya). Our route is largely back roads but we have Google Maps.

A man waves us down. “Don’t go that way. Water!’

Whatever, bro. Do you have an iPhone on your bike? No.

Our dirt road rounds a bend and leads straight into a river. Promising start.

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Google Mapped ourselves straight into a river

We stop for what would prove to be the cheapest meal of the trip: tea, short eats, roti and dahl for two for less than AUD$1. There’s hope.

Then it starts to rain. And rain and f**king rain. Hope soon fades.

We begin to pass landslips where mud covers the road. We pass a low bridge where the high water is beginning to bubble up over the road. We no longer lift our feet through puddles. Canvas trainers, jeans and ill-prepared riders are now thoroughly soaked. It is about 10am.

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The Soggy Bottom boys hang out at the store.

Bike problems begin. My blue Baja’s idle-adjust snaps off, so it no longer idles. The electric start also fails. And the headlights. And the blue Baja does not have a kick-start.

Cue an afternoon of Rhys push-starting me when there is no downhill slope.
This gets old very quickly in the pouring rain.

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Dry clothes, warm hotel room and beer. We were happy once.

At one point we decide the rain is getting too heavy.

We stop, take shelter, eat popsicles, laugh at our predicament, hang out with some locals

An hour later, the rain is even heavier and we squelch off down the road, having achieved, well, not very much.

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The author calls his mum for a pair of dry socks, please.

About 2pm we start to get cold. We both have nice waterproof jackets, but they can only hold off so much rain.

And this is serious rain. It stings our faces, obscures our vision, flows orange around our feet and trickles down our necks.

Finally we arrive at our villa. It is warm and dry and they hang our clothes up and pour us tea, then beer. All is well in the world again

Midigama

Since its inception, our trip included a surfing component. We initially tried Mirissa, but this was a bit touristy, a bit crowded and a bit lacking in waves.

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Mirissa beach scene

Twenty minutes down the coast though, we found Midigama. Not a town so much as a collection of homestays and restaurants along the highway, it was still pretty rad.

We set up camp in a homestay on the ‘wrong’ side of the railroad tracks, run by a lovely girl in her family home,

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Legendary hosts!

The surfers and backpackers had the run of the top storey; she lived below with mum, dad, gran, her ever-smiling brother and various uncles.

Thirty minutes after arriving we had rental boars under arms and were heading to the beach.

Out front, three or four breaks beckoned, from shallow, hollow reefs to crumbly points.

Crowds consisted of Euro holiday-makers, learners and couples, with none of the hardcore scene you might see in Indo, mainly as the waves were more fun than epic.

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But Midigama was such a highlight.

Surf early, tuck into a massive brekkie, wander about, surf again at midday as it was too hot to do anything else, go exploring, try to find a cold beer, hang out with new friends. Much fun.

Warm-water waves without much punch meant surfs were relaxing rather than life-threatening but sometimes that’s enough, you know.

Especially when there are few surfers around and you can grab a few waves to yourself.

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Home at the beach

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Possibly the smiling-est kid in Sri Lanka

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Gran.

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A new take on railroad commuting

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What the hell went on in Sri Lanka?

31 03 2013

About two months back, a friend and I spent a couple of weeks exploring Sri Lanka onboard a pair of ageing dirtbikes.

We did a rough clockwise loop from the west coast (Negombo) to Sigiriya in the mid-north, then down through the Hill Country for a few waves on the south coast, covering around 1200km in ten days.

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The Honda Baja 250s were noisy, heavy brutes of things without a single working instrument, but they did the job, proving more or less reliable even when dodging flash-floods and landslides. And dogs. And buses. And tortoises.

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Sri Lanka itself was brilliant. Highly recommended. Friendly, helpful, honest, open people. Delicious, varied, healthy food. Cheap day-to-day costs and accommodation. And a huge variety of landscapes to explore, from steamy surf beaches to mist-shrouded hill-towns to jungles and alpine plains.

I could give you a chronological rundown of our trip but I won’t. So here’s a bunch of random thoughts….

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The Bikes.           My new favourite way to travel. At least in developing nations where I am not required to produce a valid motorcycle licence.

Rhys had an Australian licence, but this won’t save you when 15 tonnes of bus comes careening at you around a blind corner. A quick burst of heel and toe action would often squirt you out of trouble, but every time we did NOT meet a bus on a blind corner was the equivalent of gaining an extra life in a video game. Albeit one that felt all too real.

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Interesting to learn Google Maps does not always know when roads are covered by flooded rivers. We went another way…

The Bajas were four-stroke single-cylinder monsters that came in at around 120kg. A lot of bike. We managed to drop them several times, generally while trying to manoeuvre the cursed things at slow-speed. Each dropped bike meant an hour or two hanging out with a mechanic as the clutch levers inevitably took the brunt of the fall.

They also attracted a lot of attention. The Baja’s distinctive spluttering, farting exhaust noise meant pedestrians heard us coming a long way off. For a day or so, I felt like a bit of celeb, as every male within hearing distance would stop to watch us go past. I soon realised they were not looking at me, but rather the bike – an impossibly exotic, expensive machine to the average Sri Lankan. The bikes were hired from the very helpful Suranga Perera at Sha Lanka:  http://www.negombo-motorcycle-tours.com – highly recommended.

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Equipment for three weeks in the tropics

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Foodstuffs.         After overcoming what might have been caffeine withdrawal on days one and two, we settled into a routine of deliciousness. Single-origin espressos were replaced with several hundred cups of tea and every meal offered some sort of new curried treat. In most cases we skipped the meats and stuck to vege offerings.

Breakfasts normally took place at roadside ‘Hotels’ – small cafes for workers where we would score some sort of baked flatbread, some lentil dahl, a handful of samosas and tea for around $2 each.

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Lunch and dinner inevitably involved curry and rice, or rice and curry, depending on who served us. At buffets we would go heavy on the vege curry with a side of rice. If the staff were dishing it out, we would get a giant plate of rice, with some curry garnish. I can’t remember one bad meal. The food was that good and often, it was outstanding.

Highlights included Tikiri Villa at Mahinganaya where the incredible staff rustled up an outrageous array of fresh curries from their garden – complete with home-grown rice –  for just Rhys and I to enjoy in an enormous deserted dining room. After riding through the rain for six hours, it was well-received.

At Waterfalls Homestay in Ella, Aussie hosts Karen and Martin create nightly curry feasts for guests and patiently explained each dish, showing us all the weird and exotic ingredients they sourced locally.

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Our preferred beachside lunch spot. Wicked.

As someone who now picks travel destinations based on the cuisine he can expect, it’s hard for me to really get across how terrific, fresh and tasty Sri Lankan food was.

Buffalo curd (similar to yoghurt) featured in many memorable breakfasts around the Hill Country and south coast and we also grew fond of what were dubbed ‘beer snacks’ – crunchy chickpeas or fried peanuts mixed with chili and curry leaves and sold everywhere on the side of the road.

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People.               As with any venture, there were a few individuals who really made our trip. Overall, I found the Sri Lankans more open and trusting than say, people in Indo or Thailand, but I suspect that has to do with exposure to tourism.

Suranga, who we hired the bikes from in Negombo was damn helpful. On the first night, we pored over a map and outlined where we wanted to go, while he annotated the highways with places to avoid and advised which routes to take. When the inevitable breakdowns occurred, we got him on the phone to talk various mechanics through the eccentricities of the Hondas.

Beers with Rohan and 'The Night Rider'.

Beers with Rohan and ‘The Night Rider’.

In Mahinganaya, we arrived soaked and grumpy after slogging through six hours of rain and what may have been a flash-flood. Cue hot tea, a spare room to spread out our wet clothes and a fantastic curry dinner. The next day, Rohan – the manager – accompanied us to the mechanic where he translated while we sorted my troublesome bike electrics and then recommended his fave breakfast spot before disappearing off into the rainy mist again. Champ.

Ella, the Hill Country – In need of a sundown beer (again) we waved off the various backpacker cafes in favour of the ‘Local’s Bar’. A dim, seedy den of iniquity. Hopefully. Instead we find ourselves chatting to Rohan, a local who spent two years in Australia in the 1980s on a theatre scholarship. He invited us for lunch at his home the next day, introduced us to his family and explained how he walked a 7km round-trip to work each day so his daughters could learn English at a private school. Wow.

More soon….

Dan did a similar trip on an automatic scooter with limited suspension. Ill-advised? Yes. hardcore? Definitely.

Dan did a similar trip on an automatic scooter with limited suspension. Ill-advised? Yes. hardcore? Definitely.





Sri Lankan photo gallery. Part Two.

28 03 2013

More shots from Sri Lanka.

Dressed in our protective motorcycling jeans, cotton shirts and canvas trainers. Ready to roll, in other words.

Dressed in our protective motorcycling jeans, cotton shirts and canvas trainers. Ready to roll, in other words.

World's End. Weird, tussocky vegetation that looked like it should belong in an alpine meadow.

World’s End. Weird, tussocky vegetation that looked like it should belong in an alpine meadow.

Checkin out some vistas after roaring through the open plains of World's End NP.

Checkin out some vistas after roaring through the open plains of World’s End NP.

Stuck an iPhone to the bikes we did. Made some videos and all...Stay tuned.

Stuck an iPhone to the bikes we did. Made some videos and all…Stay tuned.

I am not sure what is going on here. I suspect we were lost. Again.

I am not sure what is going on here. I suspect we were lost. Again.

Gettin muddy and misty.

Gettin muddy and misty.

Tuk-tuk hauling ass.

Tuk-tuk hauling ass.

Another epic breakfast for about $3.

Another epic breakfast for about $3.

Hillside tea plantation. Nuwara Eliya.

Hillside tea plantation. Nuwara Eliya.

Crossing the tracks to reach your accommodation is preferable to crossing the A2 highway.

Crossing the tracks to reach your accommodation is preferable to crossing the A2 highway.

The ever-smiling kid from our Midigama pad. We were quite fond of him.

The ever-smiling kid from our Midigama pad. We were quite fond of him.

Train trip to Galle.

Train trip to Galle.

Through the Wangu Ten - multiple hairpins. Lots of fun but you didn't want to go too fast.

Through the Wangu Ten – multiple hairpins. Lots of fun but you didn’t want to go too fast.

Old Town, Galle.

Old Town, Galle.





Sri Lankan photo gallery. Part one.

28 03 2013

Shots from a recent motorbike trip to Sri Lanka.

All taken by myself, mostly on the Canon S100.

Street art, Galle.

Street art, Galle.

Downtown at Galle. A fantastically interesting colonial city.

Downtown at Galle. A fantastically interesting colonial city.

The only time our bikes did not attract attention was when they were switched off.

The only time our bikes did not attract attention was when they were switched off.

Roti man in the sunlight at  Negombo.

Roti man in the sunlight at Negombo.

Reclining Buddha near Sigiriya. I really dug the brick effect.

Reclining Buddha near Sigiriya. I really dug the brick effect.

Waiting out yet another downpour. Man, we got wet that day.

Waiting out yet another downpour. Man, we got wet that day.

The Hill Country resembled WA or Tassie at times. Eucalypts everywhere (fast-growing hardwoods).

The Hill Country resembled WA or Tassie at times. Eucalypts everywhere (fast-growing hardwoods).

Tuk-tuks, falling-down Portuguese architecture, quiet streets. Loved Galle.

Tuk-tuks, falling-down Portuguese architecture, quiet streets. Loved Galle.

Buying sodas somewhere along the way.

Buying sodas somewhere along the way.

First day on the roads. Bike broke down for the first time shortly after.

First day on the roads. Bike broke down for the first time shortly after.

Misty shack, Nuwara Eliya.

Misty shack, Nuwara Eliya.

Heading up to Little Adam's Peak after Rhys fooled me into thinking it was time to get up.

Heading up to Little Adam’s Peak after Rhys fooled me into thinking it was time to get up.

Old bloke, Kithulgala.

Old bloke, Kithulgala.

Unprocessed calamari rings. Negombo.

Unprocessed calamari rings. Negombo.

Bike workshop. One of many we visited.

Bike workshop. One of many we visited.

Stacker tries his luck on two wheels in Negombo.

Stacker tries his luck on two wheels in Negombo.

Watching the tourists inch up Sigiriya from our empty rock across the way.

Watching the tourists inch up Sigiriya from our empty rock across the way.

Icky bug.

Icky bug.

Sweet spot for a rest under a tree, eh?

Sweet spot for a rest under a tree, eh?

Another breakfast feast at Midigama. That's just for TWO people...

Another breakfast feast at Midigama. That’s just for TWO people…