Tim - In Search of the Mythical Ice Bear

Before we parted ways, Casey and I were discussing our expectations of our impulsively chosen destinations. I casually mentioned a half-hearted desire to see a polar bear to which Casey replied “I will give you $10 if you see a polar bear”… My epic quest had begun to see the ice bear and claim the spoils of victory, a small sum of money, yet an immeasurable amount of pride.

This time I was allowed to leave Egypt, even though I did have a few issues caused by the lack of a departure ticket from Canada, which I had to “promise” the airline I would pay for if required. I boarded the flight excited by the awaiting possibilities. I arrived in Toronto, Canada with slight relieve I could easily communicate with everyone. My first impressions of Canada were fantastic! Not only did Toronto seem like Melbourne, but everyone I talked to was so incredibly friendly, I started to see truth in the stereotype. Trying to adjust to the climate, which heavily contrasted to my previous location, I made my way to my hostel in the heart of Toronto. It would be here that I strategised my acquaintance with the arctic predator. Toronto was a fantastic city that resonated Australia in so many ways, from the shopping malls to the people in the streets, I really felt at home. Amongst the similarities I saw, I definitely saw some differences that only North American culture could provide. To give you a small example of this, after purchasing a 14” super burrito and trying to ingest it in a small snow-ridden park, I spent about ten minutes chasing squirrels around the park trying to get a picture, which I think either amused or slightly scared the other park goers who hopefully assumed I was a tourist…

The hostel I was staying could easily have been the best hostel I’ve ever stayed. Even though the facilities and location were great, this wasn’t the highlight; it was the small group of people I met, my Toronto family. This group of people included Nans, Flora, Jas, François, Mo and Rob, resulting in a French, German, Austrian and, of course, Australian combination rivaled by none! I experience my first NBA game, an entertainment spectacle that is incomparable to any sporting event in Australia due to the heights they’ll go to continuously engage the crowd. GO RAPTORS! Yet, in all this fun, I had not forgotten my Canadian calling and had determined exactly where I needed to be for my Arctic encounter… The self proclaimed Polar Bear Capital of the world, Churchill.

Taking a slight detour passed Niagara Falls on my way to Montréal, I had the pleasurable opportunity to experience this Natural wonder. It was a miserable day, shrouded in mist, yet the falls still impressively channeled an unfathomable amount of water, a beautiful sight to see. I was a little surprised to see the sheer number of casinos around the falls on both the Canadian and American sides, but like many other naturally occurring attractions, people have successfully capitalised on the popularity of the location. I arrived in Montréal not realising how incredibly cold it was going to be, which slightly debilitated my adventurous spirit. I instead utilised my time preparing for the coming journey I was going to make across the country by train. Montréal was a beautiful city though; you could feel the French influence, unfortunately the same could not be said for my fingers or toes… I had organised a train from Montréal to Toronto, to Winnipeg, to Churchill, to Winnipeg and finally to Vancouver. A journey that would see me spend eight out of thirteen nights on a train. I jumped on the first leg of the trip to Winnipeg. Winnipeg was an incredibly lifeless city, granted when I arrived it was in blizzard-like conditions and after slipping twice with my pack on, I came to the realisation that I was unequipped to deal with ice or any real temperature below freezing… Staying only a night in an unexciting hostel, which I was the only guest, I was ready for my next leg of my journey. The two-day train to Churchill, a small isolated town that could only be reached by train or air, the destination that offered me glory or horrific defeat.

Before I’d visited Churchill I thought I had experienced cold weather, but I ended up thinking about those times to revisit warmth. Arriving into -35°C with wind-chill, I yet again realised I was completely out of my depth and the winter clothes I had dragged with me all year, whilst we tracked summer around the world, were inadequate. Donning six layers and a borrowed pair of boots, as the hotelier didn’t think my $10 Kmart shoes were suitable, I walked around the tiny town. Visiting the Eskimo Museum and National Parks Canada, I saw a stuffed polar bear at both locations, but it had been specified that the polar bear had to be alive and outside of captivity… Semantics. I booked an exuberantly priced tour for the following day, giving me one opportunity to see what I’d come so far to see.

I was collected the following day by my guide as we started driving around in what seemed like an old stereotypical American school bus that had icicles forming inside the cabin. He told us a history of the town and the area, which was all very interesting, yet a distraction from my main goal. I was told that I had missed the season by about a week, but we might be lucky enough to stumble across some stragglers. First we headed to the local tip, where a polar bear and its cub had been rumoured to be lingering. We searched, but to no avail. We then continued away from the town into the open plains and yet again, no luck. I did get to see numerous sled dogs and the beached tanker, The Ithica, whilst on the tour, but the true search continued. With the tour slowly coming to an end, we headed back to the tip to try our luck. As we slowly approached, the only other person on the tour shouted, “Stop! I see two of them running!”. The driver had gone just too far so tried to reverse, but the tyres had lost all grip, and we were stuck. We ran out of the bus to at least get a fleeting glimpse of the fleeing animals, but, today was not my day. Eventually another vehicle came to pull the bus out of the snow and we continued to search for the bears, but we saw nothing. My companion, the only other person on the tour, had seen the mythical ice bears, yet I had not. I had been defeated. The following day, I boarded the train for the two-day return journey to Winnipeg. There was a bitterness in the sub-arctic air, but that could have been the remorseful feeling of disappointment…

I returned to the same lifeless hostel in Winnipeg, where I had to stay for a few nights due to the train schedule, and due to a lack of resolve, I wallowed in the again deserted hostel until my final two-day train to Vancouver. Vancouver was an incredibly vibrant city, void of snow, a meteorological phenomenon I once glorified, yet could now do without. Visiting Stanley Park was the highlight. A huge park by the ocean, which offered a large variety of vegetation and, my personal favourite, docks littered with houseboats and luxury yachts. I then headed to Victoria on Vancouver Island, getting there by Ferry. It was here that I was meeting with my good friend Nans whom I had met whilst in Toronto. It was great to see him again as he showed me around the sights of Victoria, most of which was the beauty of the location itself. Victoria was my final destination in Canada as I would be catching the Ferry to the US to meet up with Casey in the following days, but not before I visited a highly publicised location that I could not avoid.

From Victoria, Canada I caught the ferry to Port Angeles, USA. Port Angeles is a very small port town, but knowledge of this town has started to build in the last decade due to the release of the Twilight books. As I was in the area (and to appease my cousin Princess Zazzles) I caught the local bus to Forks, the main setting of the Twilight books. The town itself wasn’t very big, but it was obvious that they had welcomed and even fostered the Twilight sensation. I visited the information centre and was presented with a “Twilight map”, so I could go and see all the sights that are discussed in the books. It was a shame I didn’t have more time in the area, because it turns out that there are numerous national parks worth seeing. I walked around the town ticking off all the ‘sights’ even though I had never actually read the books. I was curious about what people would have thought about an adult male taking photos in front of Edward’s and Bella’s houses… From Port Angeles I jumped on a bus to Seattle where I would catch a bus the following day to meet Casey in San Francisco. The Greyhound buses seemed to attract a certain type of people, which made the 24-hour journey to San Fran very interesting…

Alas, my solo journey had come to an end. I had failed to see a polar bear, but I had the opportunity to travel through the beautiful country that is Canada. Now, I just have some unfinished business… Keep posted.

The Reunion Part II - Amman, Jordan to Cairo, Egypt

This is The Reunion Part II! Since leaving you at a drool-soaked table at Egypt airport, The Earthbound Astronauts have ventured through ancient Jordan, taken a spontaneous detour into the religious epicentre of Israel and were unexpectedly stranded in turbulent Egypt, the very place we were attempting to avoid! We hate predictability, so what comes next will not disappoint!

To listen to the Part II podcast click HERE!

Jordan – Amman & Petra – October 22^nd – October 29^th

Casey and I arrived into Amman completely exhausted after our restless night in the Cairo airport, so we headed to our prearranged hostel. This particular hostel had been so highly recommended by a multitude of people online, with all the comments including how wonderful the proprietor ‘Andrew’ was. The hostel itself was nothing special, quite rundown and minimalistic, but we did have the opportunity to meet this infamous Andrew, completely validating all the positive comments. We spent our first day in Amman recovering followed by dinner at one of the best restaurants in Amman, the Hashem restaurant. The Hashem restaurant purely served the mixed selection of falafel, pita, salad and two dips, yet it was easy to understand how it had earned such an outstanding reputation. We now have a new appreciation for falafel and hummus, and the variety of ways to consume said food, but more about that later. We spent a day exploring the Roman ruins and visiting the ruins of a citadel, which rest above the remainder of the city. It was intriguing to see the remnants of ancient civilisations that dated back over three thousand years, whilst tracing the progressive evolution of these civilisations and observing the variations in culture and religious belief over time. It was here that we started to realise how historically and culturally significant this entire area really was.

We decided we wanted to visit the famed Dead Sea, so Andrew organised ‘George’ to take us on a day trip to the area. George initially took us to Madaba to see the oldest known map of the promise land, which was an intricate partially preserved mosaic on the floor of what is now a Catholic church. We then visited Mount Nebo, where it is presumed 120-year-old Moses climbed so God could show him the Promised Land before dying there. The view from the top was truly impressive allowing us to appreciate all the elaborate rock formations and the Dead Sea, which was our next destination. We paid an exuberant price to enter a complex with pools and direct access to the beach of the fabled sea. Entering the water was a surreal experience, as you expect your body to sink as in all other water, but we defiantly stayed buoyant with no effort on our behalves. As we left the water, we could feel the salt now layered on our bodies, which slowly precipitated into large salt deposits. We observed a direct contrast between effortlessly swimming in The Dead Sea and the exhausting swim in the pure water of Crater Lake in Banlung, Cambodia. Returning to Amman, after helping George out by utilising our duty free privileges, we decided it was time to head to Jordan’s main attraction, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, Petra. We caught the public bus to the town Wadi Mousa, which acts as the tourist base for people visiting Petra. Andrew had suggest a hotel for us to stay in while in the area, “The Valentine Inn”… Luckily, they had a twin room available even though there were still hearts on our key...

Just like Indiana Jones before us, we entered Petra through the ominous entrance, a relatively small division between two formidable walls of rock. We were humbled by this intimidating stone corridor before the channel opened onto the renowned treasury, currently the most exquisitely intricate building in Petra. It was unbelievable and almost implausible to conceive that people had built such an amazing structure into a rock face. As we continued into Petra there were numerous tombs and other buildings erratically scattered within the surrounding landscape, linked by hidden staircases leading to what were once possibly prominent areas. As we’d decided to spend two days at Petra, we used our first day to explore the major attractions such as taking the long trek to see the astonishing monastery (seen in Transformers 2), which rivals the treasury in its grandeur, and used our second day to go off the beaten track and find a great location to watch sunset. Whilst at Petra, we were completely at the mercy of the sun, so we tried to track shade at any opportunity. Even when we left the main trail, we were still coming across the remnants of life in the form of carvings, stairs and buildings. We were, and continue to be, completely in awe of Petra and the amazing artistry the founding civilization had masterfully utilised to create this former epicentre of trade.

After immensely enjoying Petra, we headed to Wadi Rum, an arid nature reserve approximately two hours south of Wadi Mousa, where we’d organised a tour for one day and a night. Jumping into the back of a ute, we were chauffeured around the reserve to various impressive naturally occurring springs and rock formations before we were taken to a Bedouin camp to enjoy the remarkable desert sunset. Having decided to avoid Egypt due to the enduring civil unrest, we had intended staying in Jordan for two weeks. However, whilst in Amman, the seed had been planted to visit Israel and Palestine. Catching a taxi from Wadi Rum to a town on the Jordanian-Israeli border, Aqaba, where we nervously prepared to cross this precarious border.

Israel & Palestine – Jerusalem – October 31^st – November 3^rd

We anxiously crossed the border by foot, passing the armed guards on either side. As we crossed into the Israeli immigration area we were welcomed by what seemed like endless photos of Bill Clinton… We were heavily questioned by immigration officials about where we’d been, how and for how long we’d known each other and our intentions in Israel. After being allowed to enter the country, we walked to the city, allowing us to observe the stark contrast between the small town of Aqaba in Jordan and the heavily westernized city of Eilat, where we saw a dramatic increase in infrastructure and overall wealth. From Eilat we organised a bus to Jerusalem, but not before we went to an upmarket shopping centre where Casey purchased an iPad to replace his water damaged iPhone.

Arriving into Jerusalem was a surreal experience, a city that has consistently been at the focal point of history and contributed to the evolution of countless religions. The city was such a blend of culture, with an obvious division demonstrated through something as simple as the architecture in differing districts. We had organised to stay at a hostel within the walls of the historical old city, near the Jaffa Gate. Joining a “Holy city” tour we were taken to the main attractions that have importance to the differing faiths. Initially, we were taken to the Temple Mount, which is now also the location of the building with the iconic golden dome and adjacent to the Western or ‘Wailing’ Wall. The Temple Mount is only open to tourists for a single hour everyday, and when we arrived people had already been waiting for hours. Luckily, our tour group was able to join the line with another tour group, which saw us clearing security within the allocated time. We had been in the site no more then ten minutes before they started aggressively ushering us out. We had been lucky to visit this site, but we did feel a twang of guilt for pushing our way into the line and robbing people of this rare opportunity. We later learnt (after continuously interrogating our guide) that the Temple Mount was part of the area controlled by Palestine and an ‘incident’ between Israel and Syria at the precise time we had entered the area partially explained our rapid expulsion. The presence of police and army members at various points through out the city really does contribute to the already prominent tension we were feeling.

After visiting the Temple Mount, we headed to a small portion of the Western Wall where we were able to write a ‘wish’ and place it into the cracks of the wall, replicating a Jewish practice. The remained of the tour predominately followed the assumed stages of Jesus’ crucifixion. As we walked the small alleyways, we were shown locations that coincided with events that were referenced within the Christian New Testament before we reached the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. This church, which is owned by all the major denominations of Christianity, housed the proposed location of Jesus’ crucifixion (Golgotha), the place of his anointment and the place of his burial. The people that were there on spiritual pilgrimages greatly contributed to the ambience and authenticity of the site. We then headed to the proposed location of the Last Supper, which, like the majority of sites in Jerusalem, had been in the possession of, and therefore influence by, one of the three main religious groups at one time or another. The tour was quite overwhelming in a way as were taken to sites that are considered sacred to differing people for a multitude of differing reasons. Walking through the four quarters (Armenian, Christian, Jewish and Muslim) of the old town was really an experience in itself, but it was fantastic to see such diversity within the small area. The following day, Casey and I headed up to the Mount of Olives; where in Judaism it is said the prophet will descend and walk to the Temple Mount. Many cemeteries rest on this mountain for this very reason with their feet facing the summit as we were told, “people don’t want to miss the show”. Other prominent sites that rest on this mountain are the Garden of Olives, where it is assumed Judas betrayed Jesus, and the tomb of Mary, mother of Jesus. We also got an amazing view from the top over the city.

Jerusalem, on a whole, was quite an expensive city, which made eating extravagantly difficult. We found a tiny restaurant next to our hostel that made the most amazing falafel sandwiches, so amazing (and cheap) that it became our staple food whilst in Jerusalem, so much so that we were consuming two on each occasion… We were originally so apprehensive when it came to visiting Israel and Jerusalem, yet we were shocked by how Westernized the city was in parts and how isolated, yet apparent, the ongoing battle for territory really is between the conflicting sides. As we headed to the bus station to leave Jerusalem and Israel, we were shocked by the presence of a metal detector at the bus interchange, yet the large number of 18 to 20 year olds on their military service arbitrarily walking around with assault rifles seemed to make this somewhat redundant. We headed north to a border crossing we were assured would not be an issue to cross and returned back to Amman where we were catching our flight to Egypt and then Argentina the following day.  We also had the pleasure of seeing Andrew again, who graciously sorted us out with a private room at a discounted price because “we were friends”.

Egypt – Cairo – November 4^th – November 6^th

As we were attempting to avoid entering Egypt, we had booked a flight to Cairo on the day of our flight from Cairo to Argentina. To avoid paying for an Egyptian visa to enter the country just to pick up our bags and check-in once more when we arrived in Cairo, we arrange to have our bags directly placed on our next flight. All smooth and seemingly easy... As we arrived into Cairo, we were ferried off to a room or ‘holding area’ used for transit passengers, having our passports confiscated. Feeling like were captives in this highly secured room, we waited for three hours to be presented with our connecting boarding passes, yet, we were ignored. Eventually, a man approached Casey and started asking about our visa receipt number. As Casey had travelled to Argentina before, where he had paid a reciprocity fee at the border, we were convinced that a prearranged payment was unnecessary. This situation continued, as we thought this seemingly less-then-official airport employee was taking us for a ride, before the man escorted Casey to the Qatar Airways desk. Casey then returned to the transit lounge, shockingly accompanied by our luggage. Unbeknown to us both, as of July, this fee must be paid online before departure to Argentina. They had refused to let us board the plane because we had not paid the fee, a fee that can be paid within minutes. I was also erroneously denied using my EU passport that doesn’t require a fee payment; we had been officially rejected from boarding the flight.

We were escorted back to the original terminal, Qatar Airways washing their hands of us, after what was quite appalling handling of the situation on their behalves. Unfortunately, the blame rests solely with us, yet I do not hesitate to partially condemn the airline for their disorganization and lack of knowledge and assistance in what should have been a recoverable situation. Being told we could pay to return to Jordan or enter Egypt, we, still in shock from our shattered reality, reluctantly decided to stay in Cairo. Our presumption of being in South America within 48-hours had been crushed in the space of minutes. We had arrived into Cairo on the day of the Morsi trial, so tanks and other armoured vehicles littered the streets. We had found a hotel, which, like many of the tourist-centric businesses, was feeling the effect of numerous governments condemning travel to this politically unstable country. We had to determine our next move.

As we were in Egypt, we figured that we should at least try to see the sights we could in the short time we were here. Fortunately, Casey had made a friend who lived in Cairo whilst on his course in Germany, Naggar. Naggar came to meet us, acting as our more then capable guide through Cairo, organising a cruise on the infamous Nile River, taking us to an authentic Egyptian restaurant before taking us to a hotel where we could look over the city by night. Telling Naggar we had decided to visit the Pyramids of Giza seemed to fill him with slight concern and he decided to escort us there the following day, which we were more then grateful, yet perplexed by his concern.

We fought through the incomprehensible Cairo traffic before we started approaching the ancient pyramids. The final approach to the pyramids was one of the most stressful situations we’d been involved in thus far. As we drove, people started to approach the car trying to secure employment as a tour guide. We initially experienced a man being denied by Naggar, yet he desperately continued to run next to the car as traffic progressed before he collided with a turning bus. We then came to an area where people were trying to jump in front of the car to the shock of Naggar, who was evasively able to avoid them. We arrived at the pyramids where Naggar secured our tickets and a guide, who was employed purely to prevent unwanted advances. The pyramids and sphinx were formidably standing before us, and it was more then obvious why the pyramids were considered an ancient wonder and also an honoury member of the current Seven Wonders of the World. Yet, it was hard to fully enjoy the experience, as we were the only tourists present, we were continuously harassed by people wanting money. Having Naggar with us to both drive and organise everything for us was amazing. We now know why he hesitated when we told him about our plans to visit the pyramids solo, and I think even he was shocked by the conditions we encountered. We are incredibly grateful he was willing to accompany us during our time in Egypt. The entire experience of visiting the pyramids really did reiterate the pressure the entire country has been feeling during this incredibly turbulent time, unfortunately it was evident that the country was struggling.

The main question we had to answer was, ‘What do we do next?’. Do we pay for a new ticket to Argentina? Do we choose a new destination? And if so, where? This debate continued as we frantically searched Skyscanner for the cheapest destination that would partially coincide with our already booked flights. I’m sad to say to all our diehard fans out that there that Casey and I chose differing destinations. The Earthbound Astronauts are splitting once more! I had found an incredibly cheap ticket to Toronto, Canada, so thought I would go on a journey to find a polar bear. Casey, thought completely outside of the box, and decided to head to Tanzania where he’d organised a work away! Planning to meet up in the US in about a month, we said our goodbyes and farewelled each other once more. We truly are unpredictably earthbound after all. Keep posted.

The Reunion Part I - Geneva, Switzerland to Casablanca, Morocco

After three contrasting months apart, The Earthbound Astronauts have finally reunited! We’ve only been on the road for five weeks, yet we’ve had the pleasure of traversing through eight distinctly different countries. It’s been an adventure-filled reunion, so this is only Part I of our unpredictable voyage. Don’t blink or you’ll miss it!

To listen to the Part I podcast click HERE!

Switzerland – Geneva – September 30^th – October 1^st

After being apart for three months, we were both enthusiastic to start the next phase of our journey. Meeting in Geneva was convenient for us both as Casey had been travelling with his parents in Switzerland, and Geneva was only a short two-hour train ride away from Lyon, where I had been stationed for the previous two months. We jubilantly met at a prearranged hostel both invigorated by the unknown of the coming months. Casey was excited to be no longer travelling solo, whilst I was ecstatic to be on the move once more. Wanting to celebrate our once again formidable duo, we ventured into Geneva to enjoy a meal. Having been forewarned of the exuberant pricing in Switzerland still did not prepare us for the blatant extortion encountered! Unfortunately for us, pricing was relative to the heightened salaries received in Switzerland, those with heavy financial restraints, such as ourselves, were reduced to the common European travellers meal: a baguette, cheese, salami and a lukewarm beer.

Meeting Casey’s parents at The European Organisation for Nuclear Research or ‘CERN’ was a very exciting occasion. We were able to join them both for a tour of CERN and find out about the enormous subterranean particle accelerator and the recently confirmed Higgs Boson, a concept that is still outside my scientific grasp. It was a great event to share with Casey’s dad, David, as he has a great passion for physics, and this facility is at the forefront of research in this area. As we sadly farwelled both Aleysha and David, it marked the true beginning of our journey.

A combination of rejuvenating motivation along with Casey’s resent success hitchhiking, spurred us on an adventure to hitchhike from Geneva, Switzerland to Barcelona, Spain. Catching public transport to the Swiss-French border, garnished with our packs, we climbed a small fence leading to the highway, casually strolled across the border checkpoint, placed our packs down for but a second, barely having time to lift the iconic hitchhiker thumb and a car pulled up. Knowing the broad direction we wanted to head in, AKA west, the driver asked us where we’d like to go, we said Lyon (a large city in the general direction of Barcelona), when he said he wasn’t going in that direction we naively insisted that any ride was a good ride, even one that smelt so strongly of cheese… We had a great time chatting to our new Hungarian friend about his new life in France; however, it soon became apparent that we were not heading in the direction we’d initially intended. We ended up in Chamonix, a small town in the shadow of Europe’s tallest mountain, Mont Blanc. Surrounded by snow-capped peaks, luscious forests and typical French buildings, this charming town is what dreams are made of. Contemplating our new situation, we separately had the same idea of travelling into Italy. Astonished at our already distorted plan (a habit we cannot seem to break), we changed our tact and now waited on a highway, not so far away from the Italian border, waiting for our next willing lift.

Italy – Genoa & Cinque Terra – October 2^nd – October 5^th

We were eventually picked up by a really nice Italian-speaking Albanian, who was kind enough to drive us past his own small town to Aosta, a town with a main train station. We drove through an incredible part of Italy, with valleys dotted with various castles and villages, which seemed to be untouched by the progressive modernization witnessed in larger cities. Unfortunately, our new friend was unable to speak English, but this gave Casey an opportunity to put his freshly practiced Italian to use. He was incredibly hospitable; he even bought us a beer and refused to let us pay for it! From the train station we headed to Genoa, a port town, where we would enquire about a ferry to Spain.

We arrived into Genoa at night with no organised accommodation. Not believing this to be a problem, we were turned away from numerous hotels and hostels either due to unavailability or extravagant prices. We swallowed our pride and stayed at the cheapest we could find, even though it was considerably more then we were expecting to pay. When enquiring as to why there was such a shortage of accommodation, we found out it was due to the famed Genoa annual boat show. What would a trip to Genoa be without going to the fabled boat show! It was amazing to see the yachts that were on show. Casey and I definitely didn’t quite fit the part when it came to prospective cliental, yet we boarded some of the more modest yachts and were still able to dream about potential future travel opportunities.

Determining that we had a few days before we were going to board the ferry to Barcelona, we headed to Cinque Terre, a portion of coast on the Italian Riviera. Cinque Terre consists of five distinctively unique villages, all vibrantly coloured. Each village sits in a small cove, with the buildings carefully teetering on the sharp slope of the surrounding tumultuous terrain. It was beautiful to see these still lively villages in an incredibly well preserved and prosperous state. Returning to Genoa after a fleeting visit, we boarded the 20-hour ferry across the Mediterranean to Barcelona.

Spain – Barcelona, Tarragona & Granada – October 6^th – 12^th

As we arrived into Barcelona it was obvious that the city was going to live up to it’s impressive reputation as a culturally rich and vivacious city. Every street or small alley was bustling with life, a combination of luminescent light, erratically scattered boutiques and restaurants, and people eager to enjoy the temperate ambience. Having discovered that a friend from home, Sam, was going to be in Barcelona at the same time, we decided to meet. As Sammy had been in Barcelona for about a week before we arrived, he acted as our pseudo-tour guide, attempting to enlighten us about Gaudi, a famous architect whose eccentric and imaginative buildings have become icons of Barcelona. Shamefully, Casey and I were unaware of Gaudi before our arrival and were naively curious about this ‘Gaudi’ character people continually referred to as if it was common knowledge. As a trio, we trekked up to Montjuïc Castle, where we are able to see the incredible immensity of Barcelona and it’s surrounding satellite towns.

Even though Barcelona is well known for pickpockets and petty crime, we had no issues. The only act of theft that we experienced was due to a lapse in our concentration, forgetting to ask the price of mediocre paninis in what seemed like a legitimate panini business, which resulted in blatant daylight robbery! This was a sore moment for us both, especially when we sent Sam into the same shop a day later to enquire about the price, to find out there had been a significant price reduction… Having enjoyed our time with Sammy thus far, we invited him to join us through the remained of Spain and into Morocco. Even though there had been a slight ‘salting of game’ whilst we partook in the infamous Catalan nightlife, Sam whimsically decided to joined us.

We headed to the historical beach town, Tarragona, to see Margherita, a friend of Casey’s from his exchange to Italy eight years earlier. Tarragona is primarily a student town and Margherita, who was there on the Erasmus study exchange program, was kind enough to accommodate us for the night and expose us to the energetic nightlife of an Erasmus student on exchange. This was but a brief visit to Tarragona as we were eager to arrive in Morocco. Finding it difficult to plan a direct route to a port town where we could board a ferry headed for Tangiers, we organised an overnight train to Granada through Valencia, where we had the pleasure of waiting until the early hours of the morning for our connecting train.

Arriving in Granada with no idea about the city, we walked around attempting to find accommodation, which, again, was quite an ordeal. Eventually, we found a nice pension run by a very friendly elderly non-English-speaking lady we fondly nicknamed ‘Nonna’. The room was barely big enough for one person, let alone three, and this was before Sammy decided to covert the room into a Chinese laundry. Granada was quite an old town, and we had arrived (unbeknown to us) on National Day. This explained the lack of accommodation and the continuous parades consisting of marching bands and officials garnished with lavish medals and medallions. Granada was the point where we started to notice influences from North Africa. The main area of Granada was full of exotic stalls selling spices, clothes and various other memorabilia. Again, we were only in Granada for a night as we were attempting to arrive in a port town the following day and make our way to Morocco. We awoke the following morning marginally later then anticipated, which raised the anxiety levels slightly. Whose fault this was is an ongoing argument… However, we were able to board a train to Algeciras where we boarded a late, and somewhat delayed, ferry headed to Tangiers, Morocco. After about three and a half months we fondly said goodbye to Europe and were excited for the next stage of our journey, North Africa and the Middle East.

Morocco – Tangiers, Fes, Marrakech & Casablanca – October 13^th – October 21^st

The ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar was a swift yet symbolic passage from one continent to the next. As we left the Tangiers port terminal we were asked if we wanted buses or taxis into the city. However, we had done some research earlier and determined that a reasonable hostel was within walking distance and refused all offers. We started walking down a highway parallel to the port for what seemed like an immense distance before we started to question our whereabouts. It turned out that we had arrived into the second port of Tangiers, approximately 50 kilometres from the actual city. We swallowed our pride and returned to the port to enquire about catching a bus to the amusement of a collection of drivers that had offered us lifts earlier. It was nearing midnight as we arrived in Tangiers so we decided to stay in a quite reasonably priced four-star spa resort hotel. This luxury was quite a change from the accommodation we were accustomed. We had not intended on spending much time in Tangiers as we’d heard it was predominately a port town where Moroccans head to indulge themselves in taboo or illegal activities, so we decided to head to Fes.

Boarding the train to Fes was an experience in itself. We boarded an already crowded train with our large bags, the only remaining space was located next to the rancid bathroom at the end of the carriage, and this was filling fast. As we gathered in this confined space, we realised that standing for six hours in the sweltering heat was going to present us with another ‘unique’ experience. Obviously realising that the train was at capacity, they decided to add some additional carriages, and we were luckily able to secure a compartment before it too become obscenely crowded. Fes turned out to be what we imagined an incredibly authentic Moroccan city would be like. We had booked a hostel within the medina, the old town enclosed within a medieval fortification.

Within the medina, buildings were all constructed using the same yellowish clay into simple rectangular structures arbitrarily mounted upon one another. The small streets and alleyways were almost impossible to navigate as they unpredictably wound around and through buildings with smaller capillary streets branching of into small squares or to other indistinguishable locations. It turned out the train had been so crowded because people were returning home for an Islamic holiday, which became evident by the heightened activity within the medina. We were witness to donkeys hauling peculiar products into the labyrinth of the medina, sheep being delivered to a multitude of butchers and continuously directed to illusive tanneries. Seeing a sheep being delivered on the back of a donkey is an unusual sight at the best of times. Fes was also an interesting location as Sam and I were unlucky enough to encounter bed bugs, our first and incredibly unpleasant encounter with these brutal parasites. Casey was smugly impressed he avoided these macroscopic terrors, yet a few days later, to Sam and my enjoyment, a few bites did appear.

After we’d visited Fes, we headed to Marrakech, much more of a tourist-centric city, which did partially subtract from the appeal; however, the city was still an amazing spectacle. The highlight of Marrakech is a large market place that has numerous performances, snake charmers, orange juice stalls and restaurants. At night, the market was flooded by lights and truly came to life as people bustled between all the interesting performances, most of which seemed to involve men dressed as women… I, unfortunately, was slightly unwell during our time in Marrakech and didn’t have the pleasure of visiting some ancient tombs and a castle, but Casey and Sam visited the sights and raved about the intricacies and the impressive atmosphere of the structures.

Preparing to leave Morocco, we headed to Casablanca where Casey and I were going to catch our flight to Jordan and Sam was going to fly to Paris. Casablanca seemed like a very plain city, so we were glad we had not afforded it too much of our limited time. We headed to the Casablanca airport, said our goodbyes to Sam who we’d greatly enjoyed travelling with for just over two weeks, and boarded our plan to Amman, Jordan. We did get to enjoy a stopover night in Cairo airport that resulted in us both passing out at a table just outside of our boarding gate while we waited for a flight to Tunisia to board. An interesting image: Two westerners sleeping quite ungracefully at a table as a large group of Tunisians board their flight, many of them impressively carrying their possessions on their head…

And that is the end of The Reunion Part I! It is difficult to believe that this all happened within the space of three weeks. I’ll leave you with a quote by Ernest Hemingway that has helped me keep things in perspective, “Never mistake motion for action”. As we continue to travel I reflect upon everything we have done and everything we hope to do both while travelling and beyond. The Reunion Part II is only a few days away, so keep your eyes open and as always, keep posted.

The long awaited podcast!

The Earthbound Astronauts parted for a few months, but here is a quick rundown of what we got up to! Make sure you keep posted in the coming weeks because we'll have another blog and podcast coming your way!

To listen to the long awaited podcast click HERE!

Tim - Istanbul, Turkey to Lyon, France

Even after separation the Earthbound Astronauts are still going strong! As you’ve probably read, Casey was busy conquering Eastern Europe one sexless hitch at a time, whilst I’ve been cavorting my way through parts of Western Europe. We have surpassed the midpoint of our journey, but in true Earthbound Astronaut style, things continue to take off!

Sofia, Bulgaria – July 1^st

I started my solo journey by heading to Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria. Sofia has to be one of my favourite cities thus far. There is an intersection that has an Orthodox Church, Catholic Church, Jewish Synagogue and Islamic Mosque in unbelievably close proximity of each other! Sophia was really a city that I felt at home in, a complete patchwork of culture and history. An interesting story I heard that portrays this intriguing identity is: Bulgaria was allied with Nazi Germany during WWII, and not only did they continue to delay (until the end of the war) the deportation of Bulgarian Jews, but they had not committed any form of violent act, and attempted to remain neutral. Now, of course, the German Reich and Axis Powers were not very impressed by this situation, questioning their loyalty, and applied pressure to the Bulgarian government. Thinking they were safe in Eastern Europe, they naively threatened the US (who had just entered the war), in a not so humorous twist of fate, the US bombed Bulgaria. Not so long after this, Bulgaria joined the Allied Forces.

I promptly had to adjust to this newly gained independence, which was both welcomed, but not without slight hesitation. I quickly made a few friends in my hostel, joining them for a city tour before we finished the day off at a popular Irish pub. The following day, I headed to the airport to fly to London where I was looking forward to seeing my good friend Angie.

London, United Kingdom – July 2^nd – July 11^th

As I arrived into London airport, it was surreal to be surrounded by the English language again, something I’d become comfortably accustom without. However, whilst in England, I still seemed have issues understanding the majority of people. One example was when I walked past a counter, when I thought I heard a guy say “how is it?”. Thinking people were just friendly here and asked questions in a bizarre manner, I replied “Good thanks mate”. After a very awkward stare, I realised that he was asking a customer “Is that it?”. This type of situation seemed to arise on a regular basis for me. In a passionate protest to every British person I meet, “You right” is a question, not a greeting.

Getting to stay and spend time with Angie was great! She had to work everyday, which allowed me the opportunity to relax and relish in a break from my somewhat nomadic lifestyle. This rapidly mutated into an opportunity for me not to get out of bed until the early afternoon. This lasted for about fived days before I decided my lack of productivity was interfering with my opportunities to see London and determining my next move. Other then seeing a multitude of movies whilst there (my guilty pleasure back home), I had the pleasure of seeing another one of my good friends, Susie. As a trio, we spent the day seeing the Tower of London and various other sights, a day that I efficiently and ruthlessly choreographed to the horrific dismay of both girls.

I had decided to head to Paris on the 15^th, which allowed a few days to visit Portsmouth, a costal town South of London, to visit the historical dockyard. Stupidly, I booked my bus ticket from Portsmouth to Paris without checking if there would be any accommodation available in the area. I was able to get accommodation for the first night, but there seemed to be a complete scarcity for the second, so I thought I’d be creative.

Portsmouth, United Kingdom – July 12^th - July 14^th

Having visited Portsmouth and the Historical Dockyard before roughly 12 years earlier, I was excited to see what I remembered. The Historical Dockyard berths The Victory (Admiral Nelson’s flagship and place of death), The Warrior and the remains of the Mary Rose, a warship commissioned by King Henry XIII in the 16^th century. My fantastic memories of the Historical Dockyard were untainted, however Portsmouth itself, which was still home to amazing forts and structures, lost it’s magic as swarms of redneck English beachgoers reveled in the opportunity to bask on the traumatically pebbled beaches…

Having still enjoyed my time in Portsmouth, I had decided to spend a night in Salisbury, intending to visit the local attraction, Stonehenge, before returning to Portsmouth the following afternoon to board my bus. I walked from Salisbury station to my already booked hostel, only to find out that I had erroneously booked for the previous night and they were fully booked. Frantically searching for a room in even some of the more upmarket hotels, I was disturbingly told by a hotel employee that he’d heard there weren’t any available rooms within an 80 km radius of Salisbury. Contemplating my next move, I seriously considered sleeping in a park if I could locate one. As a last ditch effort I asked at a few pubs on the way to the train station, being denied numerous times before I finally found a room at The Cat Tavern. After enjoying a celebratory drink, this incredibly authentic English pub made me feel like I’d hit the stereotype jackpot of the old English pub dweller. Envisioning an episode of “The Vicar of Dibley”, I shared some very interesting and ‘insightful’ conversations with some very colourful characters.

Paris, France – July 15^th – July 21^st

Having enjoyed the change of pace in England, I made my way to Paris to meet Sofie, a friend that Casey and I had travelled through parts of Vietnam with. As Sofie had never been to Paris before, I acted as a sublimely mediocre tour guide. This involved visits to such illustrious sights as the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Musée de Louvre and the impressive Château de Versailles. I romanticise and marvel at all these infamous Parisienne icons, but there is one unmentioned touristic titan that soars above the rest, Disneyland Paris. After convincing Sofie that we needed two days to truly appreciate the magic, which was no mean feat, we spent two euphoric days at Disneyland Park and Walt Disney Studios. After satisfying the child within (for the third time), we returned to the city in time to witness the final leg of the fabled Tour de France and feel the incredible atmosphere of the Avenue des Champs-Élysées overflowing with enthusiastic fans waiting to get but a glimpse of their favourite competitors.

Amsterdam, The Netherlands – July 22^nd – July 28^th

Having just over a week before I had to start my French course in Lyon, I decided to go to Amsterdam and meet up with some friends Casey and I had met in Mongolia, Frans and Sien. They kindly set me up in their old student housing, which was an enormous 16-bedroom labyrinth in a beautiful part of Amsterdam. It was great to hangout with a few of the people that were living there including Niels, Pieter and Frans’ brother, Sam. I’d organised to meet up with my Mum in a few days, so avoiding the Amsterdam tourist attractions, I explored the canaled city by foot. I stumbled upon the most amazing library I’ve ever seen, allowing me to research a growing fascination with the life of Napoleon Bonaparte. Sam graciously took me on a motorbike tour to the outskirts of Amsterdam to see a part of the countryside scarcely seen by visitors to the infamous city. The countryside was just as impressive as the city, an exquisite patchwork of colours, windmills and canals, it was easy to see why The Netherlands had such a remarkable reputation.

It was great to meet up with my Mum and visit the Rijksmuseum and Van Gogh museum seeing the ornate masterpieces of distinguished artists Rembrandt and Van Gogh. We also enjoyed a canal cruise, exploring the canals that are synonymous with Amsterdam, playing such a vital role in Dutch success and expansion over the centuries. We did briefly visit the degenerately renowned red light district, somewhat of an odd experience to share with a parent…

Lyon, France – July 29^th – September 28^th

My Mum and I travelled down to Lyon a few days before my course was to begin to explore some of the sights. Visiting the iconic Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière that loomed over the city and jumping on the tourist bus gave me the perfect opportunity to become slightly accustom to the city I was going to inhabit for the two following months. Lyon was a very lively city with cafés, boulangeries and pâtisseries found all over town and an atmosphere that only a French city could provide. As I farewelled my mother and began the difficult trek up to my course organised accommodation on a hill overlooking Lyon, I was excited to see what the next two months would bring.

I was staying at a university residence that had been built within a historical fort. The accommodation was incredibly rudimentary; a room with a single bed, desk, small fridge, sink, share kitchen and bathroom. When I say share kitchen I mean a microwave, a sink and two electrical hot plates... And a share bathroom where you had to provide your own toilet paper… But, with all its faults, it was a good temporary home to revitalize myself after the months of continuous travel and copiously indulge my love for French food/cheese away from the judging eyes of society.

I began a two-month intensive French course at Alliance Française, which really hit the road running! On my first day, I was quite nervous and had absolutely no idea what to expect, especially as my French knowledge was lacking after neglecting my French studies since completing my undergraduate course. I walked into the classroom, took a seat and was horrified as the students started conversing in what I considered perfect French. Not expecting to understand everything on my first day, I at least hoped to be at a similar level to my peers! However, as the roll appeared, to my relief, my name was missing. I’d gone to the wrong class. As I arrived into my actual class and we started by introducing ourselves and saying our nationality, I knew I was in the right place and started to feel comfortable with the level. Over the two months the classes, of course became more challenging, but I really enjoyed the teachers and observing my progress, even though it was intermittent at times. Other then providing me with a partial routine for the time I was in Lyon, class acted as my primary social network. The people I met are what made Lyon so memorable. Whether I was hanging out with my fellow Australians, Jakeb and Katrina, practicing my French with Kai and Jing, frequenting the Boston Tavern or contemplating who destroys antique furniture with Thula, Itsasne, Ismael, Alexis, Caz and Lancel, struggling in class with Hagen or seeing movies with Manuel, I was always having a great time, all contributing to a life experience that I’ll continue to treasure. Lyon was truly a home away from home.

Towards the end of the two months I was excited to start travelling once more, knowing that a third of our adventure was still to come. Packing up the solitary room I’d become so accustom to, I enthusiastically farewelled my new friends and parted Lyon excited about the possibilities of the coming months. The Earthbound Astronauts are reunited, revitalized and ready to embark on the next part of our adventure.

Keep posted.

Casey - Barcelona, Spain to Geneva, Switzerland

CHAPTER 5 - LA FAMIGLIA

As I have mentioned previously, 7 years ago I went on a one-year high school exchange program to Italy. In that time I was immersed in the culture, having stayed with two Italian host families, attended Italian school and as such had learnt a little of the language. I was needless to say, eager to get back this year. I was at the same time hesitant as my Italian was hardly what it was and after 7 years a lot can change. This chapter is more or less about my time in Italy and my families…

Catching a boat from Barcelona, my first destination in Italy was Sardegna, where I intended on staying a little while, practicing some Italian and maybe finding some work. My plans quickly changed however when I received an email of invitation to work at a farm in Tuscany. So my stay in Sardegna was short-lived - the handful of days however provided me with some confidence that my Italian was conversationally ok, some time to recuperate and a decent amount of sunburn after lazing on beaches.

Having never before been to Rome, it was one of the major destinations for me this year. Logistically it worked out better that I went there before heading to Tuscany and therefore I jumped on another boat and had a terrible nights sleep before arriving. I was a little over cities at this point, and the couple of days there felt like a tourist rush – getting around as quickly as possible to see all the major sites. It was, however, phenomenal as a city, full of history and magnificent structures – but in retrospect it would have been better to be a bit better informed, and have had much more time.

Il Pollaio Del Re was the farm in Tuscany at which I was to have my second Work-Away experience. Nestled in amongst rolling hills, olive trees and vineyards, the place was majestic and more than I could ever ask for. Unfortunately due to some time constraints I was only able to spend a week here. But it was a memorable week of hard work, siestas, amazing food, fun and Italian. Run by the ever-charismatic Viviano and his adorable mother - Giovanna, the farm specializes in birds but also has a small collection of donkeys, ponies and goats to create a rather large amount of work. As such, they are always in need of volunteers and fortunately when I was there, there were another two – Ramiro and Brendan. The three of us assisted in the daily running of the farm, watering and feeding the animals and during my time also constructed a rather lovely stone retaining wall. This little project made me realize that in my 5 years of studying civil engineering I was left with very little practical knowledge… great. The week was definitely a highlight and I feel that one day I would love to return. It was also a great week of speaking mostly Italian, which gave me a lot of confidence in returning to my host families.

Ravenna, in the northeastern region of Italy, is where I spent my time on exchange. Returning there was a bit of a surreal experience. The town itself had not changed much, no major building developments or renovations – to me the city centre looked exactly the same. Instantly I felt at home again – knowing every street and corner. Obviously, both of my host families had changed a little, but I felt just as at home staying with them as I had before I left. In the time that had passed my host siblings had grown up, changed relationships, graduated etc. My host parents had also changed in the lapsed time, but I guess to a lesser extent. It was fantastic to see all of them, to share experiences, stories and reconnect with people that had been my family for such a long time. Ravenna will no doubt always hold a special place in my heart and I must thank them all for hosting me once again J

Next stop was to visit an Italian student who had stayed with my family in Canberra 3 years ago – Carlo. Although having only met a handful of times when I had returned to visit the folks in Canberra, and once when I had hosted him in Melbourne, we had built a pretty good host sibling rapport. I was only more than happy to visit him in his home in northern Italy – in Pella along Lago D’Orta. Hosted in this beautiful area and touring around with Carlo was a lot of fun, and again I wish that I could have stayed longer. Cheers to him and his family for taking such good care of me.

Ultimately, I had to leave Italy, where I felt comfortable with the culture and language, and hit to the road again – this time heading north to German speaking Switzerland. This was a bit sad for me as I do love Italy, but the excitement of traveling to unknown lands also has its appeals. Also appealing was the fact that my actual parents were in Switzerland, at a place called Sargans, staying with another hosted student - Christina. As such, I bee-lined there to meet up with them, having not seen them in over 8 months. I had a wonderful 4 days with them, being shown the beautiful Switzerland by our hosts and even nipping into Lichtenstein for an afternoon. I fell in love pretty quickly with the country and the way of life here and could’ve stayed longer if only it was not so expensive (even by Australian standards it is). After a couple of days I left – going ahead of my folks and Christina – to Geneva where I was to meet up with Tim for us all to go to CERN. I will let him continue the blog from there, but just to comment that it was great to see my parents for the short period that I did and enjoy Switzerland with them.

That brings an end to my final European solo chapter. From here I will let Tim continue the blogging whilst I continue with my photos. It has been fun, but given me an appreciation of the work required to blog all of our adventures; which stories to include and which to brush over. For the most part, I hope that I have given you an idea of my last couple of months, but as you can imagine there is so much that I have had to leave out. I hope that you have enjoyed following and are looking forward to the next adventures of the Earthbound Astronauts now that we are back together!

“Travel is the only thing that you buy that makes you richer” - Unknown