Goanna Headland

The sun had beaten us out of bed in small town Australia. But only just. With temperatures approaching 40 degrees celsius in January, our bushwalk had to begin early or run the risk of quite literally fizziling out. Aboriginal legend has it that once a might snake was enraged at having her eggs stolen by a monitor lizard goanna. She gave chase until exhaustion ended the persute, but not before delivering a fatal bite. The spot where the goanna lay down to die juts out into the pacific ocean. It became known as Goanna Headland.

It is not on the tourist trail, this small coastal town in northere New South Wales. It bearly registers a name chack in the guide book. Perhaps it should but along Australias vast coastline there are many such places if you look hard enough. The track up to Goanna Headland was rough, slightly ovcergrown betraying it's lack of use, perhaps owing to local fear of very real decendants of the mythical snake. From the headland the view looks out across vast stretches of sand both north and south. Due east is the ocean; west nature reserve. All within fifeteen minutes of Evans Head town. A river bisects Evans Head and is home to a small fishing fleet and an osprey's nest. To the north, the sands attract families, joggers and play host to casual games of beach cricket. To the south, the beaches are harder to reach and more distant from the town and here is where the dedicated surfers come. It is wild, the stretch. The ocean here is big and alive with dangerous currents. It is also sharky. There have been few attacks but the question always remains: what if?

There is only one surfer in the water as we climb down to the shore. But he is not the only one riding the swell. A small pod of dolphins demonstrate to him their purity of motion in passing th\rough the waves. The surfer, clearly stoked, pauses to marvel at them. I am excited. I strip to my underwear and plunge into the water, confident of making it to where both dolphins and surfers are at play. I survive two pounding shorebreaks before fleeing from the third, my spirit momentarily broken. I content myself just to watch from the beach.It is now 8am. A sea eagle idles by over my head and, out past the dolphins three pelicans glide low.

The return walk is through scrubland, a designated nature reserve. The head and chest of a kangaroo appear. They bob, unseen legs bounding it away. We walk back to our car. The Pacific Highway bypasses this town. I think they like that in this small rural dwelling with few shops and only one pub. The locals know it's worth. Many come here for their holidays over Christmas and the population temporarily surges. They come from neighbouring Coraki, Casino and Lismore shunning nearby Byron Bay in search of a more peaceful retreat. Quiet, sleepy, off the map and yet thoroughly remarkable.

An Audience with the Queen

To be granted an audience with royalty is a privilege beyond many of us. Attempting to gain one with a rare and elusive royal bengal tiger can test the patience of the most devout of courtiers.

The seat of this particular royal family is at Ranthambhore National Park in the Indian state of Rajasthan. It is relatively easy to visit being only a short journey from the tourist trail favourites of Delhi, Agra and Jaipur.The park is home to thirty five tigers and is set within 1300 sqkm of dry, deciduous forest with trees that are liberally spaced allowing for good visibility. Much of the park's action takes place around it's lakes, much needed oases for all the park's life that includes tiger favourites such as sambar and spotted deer. In the water lurk crocodiles; in the air over three hundred species of birds and the park is also home to the seldom seen leopard.

To appreciate the scale and beauty of Ranthambhore, a trip to the fort is a must. Built in 944 A.D, it nestles into the cliff faces naturally and provides a wonderful panoramic view across the lakes and forests. It also allows you to keep abreast of the action within the park. With the help of binoculars it is possible to watch the jeep and open-top minibuses that shuttle around the park for three hour safaris twice each day.

For a whisker, her alert yellow eyes locked into mine and spoke: how can you exploit my image to sell petrol, cereal and balm; use it to brand companies and name sporting teams. And yet, all you will be left with is this image should you continue to hunt me. Even here at Ranthambhore, one of the Indian Government's Project Tiger success stories, tigers cannot be complacent. They have been poached. Their body parts command huge figures on the black market and are used in supersticious Chinese medicines, erroneously claimed to be cures for a wealth of ailments.We were lucky.

Our audience lasted for 30 minutes. Many visitors receive no such favour. As was fitting, we took our leave of the tigeress, making way for the entrance of another vehicle, visibly excited at their audience with the queen.

Borneo

Slipping, sliding, occasionally sinking.

We had wanted to get off the beaten track and after 3 hours along a track deep in mud we were. This was Malaysian Borneo. Sabah to be exact, the northern region of the world's third largest island divided between Malaysia, Indonesia and the tiny sultanate of Brunei. We had arrived at an eco-lodge adjacent to the huge Kalimantan River.

Barely 15 minutes after collecting our stomachs we were aboard a narrow boat looking for wildlife. Free from the dense covering of the canopies, viewing from a boat allows far greater spotting opportunities. Long tailed macaques were the most numerous animal; a small freshwater crocodile sunned itself on the bank and, crashing through branches, a party of Borneo's endemic proboscis monkeys, distinctive with their huge, bulbous nose. And, not far from them, the forest's jewel: the "man of the forest," English for orang utan.

This female was hanging from the branches of a giant tree gently hanging over the water. Detecting our presence she slowly climbed down behind thick vines to peer out at us from behind the foliage. We were extremely lucky.When not being poached, these awesome apes, that share 96.4% of their DNA with humans, are suffering from habitat loss. This is a combination of logging of primary forest and the replacement of this with palm oil plantations. Palm Oil is big business and is used worldwide for cooking and cosmetic products.

We later visited the Sepilok rehabilitation sanctuary where orphaned orang utans (a result of poaching) are taken and released into a protected area and helped back to health before some individuals are released back into other forests in an effort to boost wild population numbers. Prior to entering the sanctuary, visitors are shown a 30 minute recording on the centre and its work, focusing on the threats to the apes. Two feeding times daily, virtually guarantee every visitor a chance to see a semi-wild orang utan and they acrobatically arrive on ropes that bisect the forest to a feeding platform where bunches of bananas await them. Only a handful of metres away, this provides excellent viewing and photographic opportunities.

Back on the river, other attractions also catch the eye. The river cruises offer the chance to see metre long monitor lizards, hornbills, wild boar and Asian elephants that roam the riverside in herds posing a serious danger to local villages. Following a regular route, one herd of 20 were awaited with a combination of eagerness and fear by the owners of our lodge. Every encounter is memorable but concern at the potential destruction and lengthy clean up cost is serious. The lodge has been damaged by elephants in the past. Fortunately the only thing being trampled and subsequently eaten in our presence was the riverside vegetation and our boats drifted up to the riverbank where we were able to enjoy lengthy views until the fading light sent us back to the lodge, marking the end of our trip.

Fortuitous Glance

A fortuitous moment. A glance to the right and the orca was betrayed by his huge black dorsal fin. Triangular in shape it was joined by a second, slightly curved fin that revealed it to be female. The pair cruised into the lagoon through a narrow outlet leading out into the Atlantic. If the sea lions on the shore were aware of them then they were remarkably cool. On the far bank, one sea lion was isolated from the rest who congregated in front of us, huddled together in low, red sunset light. The orcas swam slowly but purposefully past the lone seal. Apparently past.

The theatre for this drama was the Valdes Peninsular in Argentine Patagonia. It was made famous by the wonderful BBC footage of 9 metre orcas snatching sea lions and elephant seal pups from the shore, a method of hunting that involves deliberate beaching before forceful thrashing returns them to safe water.

The peninsular covers some 4,000 square kilometres and is a relatively easy if rugged area to explore, although encounters with orcas are far from guaranteed. Most visitors come here for excellent views of southern right whales which choose the Valdes as their breeding ground between August and December. They were christened (southern) right whales because hunters classed them as being the right whales to hunt on account of the ease it took to hunt them as they are fond of approaching boats and show little fear. Happily they are now protected and this inquisitiveness now results in stunning views for visitors.

Four to six hundred whales arrive here annually making close encounters virtually guaranteed. A good option is to take a small inflatable, less intrusive than larger boats and which the whales will approach with more confidence, often to within only a metre or two. The young are especially curious and will linger by the side of the boat long enough for you to work out how to fit such a large animal into one photograph at such close range. You might then turn your attention to trying to capture the whales breaching, heaving their huge bodies clear of the water to spectacular effect.

The peninsular is accessed by gravel roads which link notable “points”. In between the terrain is typical Patagonia, eye straining expanses of dense scrub grazed by sheep or cattle but also home to the llama like guanaco, the ostrich like rhea, the mara, a patagonia hare and birds including black breasted buzzard eagle and turkey vultures. All are relatively easy to spot.

The coastline of the valdes is inaccessible apart from a number of points some 50km apart where visitor centres have been built and viewing areas created to observe important breeding colonies of elephant seals, sea lions and magellenic penguins. The latter viewed at exceptionally close quarters nesting at the top of the beach and, if the timing is right, you will get a peak of a recently hatched chick

The peninsular can be explored as part of an organised tour or by hiring a car from nearby Puerto Madryn and driving from point to point which allows the freedom of planning your visits to specific points according to your wishes. The orca attacks happen at high tide at Punta Norte and Punta Cantor so it is worth checking a tide table if this is your goal.

The tide was at its highest point as the 2 orcas changed direction and accelerated in tandem towards the shore and to the lone sea lion, the fading red sun at their backs and so in the eyes of the seal. Was this deliberate? With tremendous effort they surged forward up onto the sandy bank. A moment late as the panic-stricken sealion heaved its body out of the orcas reach, to safety and another day.

Condor Cliffs

It wasn´t the advertised headline in the flyer but the smaller caption promising close views and many sightings of the world´s largest bird of prey that seized my attention.

The flyer was promoting a cruise to view the Searrano Glacier, a 2.5 hour trip from Puerto Natales, the Chilean gateway town to the reknown Torres Del Paine National Park. The trip was along the optimistically named Last Hope Sound. The name derives from the sailor ... who was trying to discover the Magellan Strait, a convenient shortcut that avoided the perilous journey around Cape Horn. But it was neither a fabulous glacier nor important maritime shortcut that caught the eye.

The Andean Condor has, at over 3 metres, the largest wingspan of any bird. It is widespread over the andean range but the birds of the patagonian andes are surely the hardiest of the species given the region´s tough and temperamental climate.

Patagonia was living up to its reputation as we left harbour and motored past a small party of black necked swans. Rain, mist covered mountains and a biting wind for which the region is famous. The good ship 21 de Mayo has capacity for 100 and was near to full despite the weather´s attempts to scare off - this being Halloween after all.

The journey was surprisingly calm and gave greater understanding to why such a heavy price was placed on charting the area. The presence of the mountains and the relative small body of water prevents big seas forming. How the ghosts of mariners lost around the Cape must curse for lack of an earlier discovery.

Our concern was no greater than whether we would be fortunate enough to catch sight of a condor in such unpleasant conditions. A cormorant colony and then a sealion colony soon after came into view. Both sea-creatures huddled among species of their own kind to keep warm, the sealions camoflaged well among the rocks.

Our first glimpse of a condor came just after we had picked out the sealions. It glided over a cliffface and disappeared form view, it´s massive size and shape the only clue to its identity.

We did not have to wait long to see more. "Condor Cliff" we were told was home to some 20 birds and as our boat drifted near we caught sight of two perched high on the cliff face taking shelter. The distance between us did not mask their enormity. The resemblance to a large turkey is not merely passing. The body is large and chunky and streaked with white which appears better in flight. They have the typical featherless head of a vulture, perfect for cleaning after being burried into a carcass. And aroud their neck, a white colour of feathers to give it a very distinctive appearance.

If the above decription gives the impression of an ugly bird then in flight they reveral their true self. Their enormity in itself is impressive but it is their effortless economy of movement that most impresses. It was rare to see one flap its mighty wings. In flight the white backs of the wings add colour and their long wing tips "primary fetahers" spread like fingers reveal an unlikley elegance.

As we reached the Serrano Glacier and were greeted to the sound of crashing ice into water, 4 more birds circled above us. The sun had arrived late and the condors made up for lost time by circling on the thermals. Andean Condors will soar for hours and travel great distances. They are not hunters, that they do not deliver the killer blow. They wait for nature to run its course before ridding the landscape of a carcass, scavenging huge quantities of meat at a single sitting.

We saw more on return when the cormorants and sealions were still sheltering from the returning rain and wind. In a land where only the strongest truly survive, it is somehow fitting that the world´s largest bird of prey should be the one to master it.

Walking the Favela

Walking the Favela
Taking a tour of one of Rio´s infamous favelas had not been on the agenda. Not through fear, although this was a factor, but because I saw no reason to see the poverty at close quarters. Fear of a guilty conscience perhaps. Speaking with local tour guides helped change my mind as I learned that responsible tours give back to the community in many ways not least through education.
We took a tour of Rocinha, one of Rio´s largest favelas and like many, an area controlled by a drug lord. The public image of the favelas is not good to say the least and yet Christina, our guide assured us that we would be 100% safe within Rocinha as crime is totally prohibyted by the drug lord and any acts dealt with severely. Surprising as this first sounded it made perfect sense when Christina explained that the drug gangs wanted as little pólice intereference as possible and also to create a safe environment in which to attract the wealthier classes into the area to buy drugs in confidence.
The official figure for Rocinha is aa population of 60,000 but this is a massive underestimate. The electricity board estaimates some 127,000 people living in this city-within-a-city and yet even this may be inaccurate judging form the many instances of illegal tapping into the wires, just one example of the local population keeping costs to a minimum in order to survive. The need to do so is perhaps best explained by the contrasts surrounding the favela. Opposite to the entrance to Rocinha is Rio´s most prestigous school, the American School. Here, the monthly fee for pupils is some 4000 Reis, the minimum wage in the favela just 350 Reis per month. With such disparity it is all too easy to understand why children look to drugs as a way to lift themselves out of poverty. To act as a lookout, the lowest rung in the gang hierarchy, brings in 800 Reis a month, way more than the minimum salary.
And yet drugs are not the only option and many schemes are now in place to offer childrfen an alternative. We stopped to view the artworks of a number of both children and adults who are encouraged to develop their skills and sell to the turists who visit Rocinha each day. Typically the colourful paintings depict famous Rio views or landmarks such as the Maracana football stadium or the statue of Christ the Redeemer on Corvocado hill. Showing both an inventive as well as creative streak, stylish bags are made from magazines and hats from plastic shopping bags. Not that we would have been any the wiser had we not been told.
The very location of Rocinha is staggering in itself. Nestled in amongst the Rio hills it is surrounded by remants of the Atlantic rainforest, a serious rival to the Amazon for biodiversity. The views across the city are spectacular and take in Corcovado and the Sugar Loaf. On the hill opposite, one of Rio´s most fabulous homes whose owner has his own private island south of the city and is a world famous surgeon who has operated on Sophia Loren and Jacques Chirrac amongst other famous names. He has endeared himself to the people of Rocinha and beyond by performing free operations for the poor each Friday. It is philanthropic acts such as this that provides hope of a better future for the people of Rio´s favelas.
Walking the streets we were lucky to hit upon market day and Rocinha was buzzing with produce as varied as you might expect to see at Borough Market on a weekend. The houses look poorly constructed and the wiring positively lehtal yet we were assured that there are no instances of collapsing buildings, fire or any records of electrocution. Indeed, many of the electricians working for the electricity board live in the favelas which would explain the extensive wiring that is everywhere.
Amongst the impression of close cooperation, the emphasis on a crime free favela and the communty projects springing up the problems that a favela like Rocinha faces should still be highlighted. They receive hostile press, strike fear into the hearts of most Brazillians who wil not venture inside and receive little help form politicians who ignore th poverty and are either unwilling or unable to tackle the powerful drug lords. The drug lords themselves are part of the vicious circle. Few last long, sometimes only days and the average life expectancy for somebody involved with a ganag is 30 we were told.
Later we visited a much smaller favela called Para Ti numbering a mere 2,500. Here we visited a community school partly funded by the money we paid to take the tour. It has 80 attendees, 40 in the morning and 40 in the afternoon and amongst other features it has 8 computers with free internet access and also produces its own handicrafts which it sells to visitors.
Taking a short 3 hour tour may only provide a limited insight and it certainly does not give a full comprehension of the difficulties the inhabitants of a favela face. But it does break down illusions, false assumptions and fear that bad press creates for the favelas. They may be many things but a tour certainly proves them to be fascinating, colourful, stimulating and, to my mind, thoroughly worthwhile.