Iceland part II – the southern half

Back in Iceland after the ‘Family, friends and free trains’ break which Anthony realises are aligned almost perfectly with the Formula 1 mid season break.  No there is absolutely no connection between these events. I think the weather froze our blog juices hence the delay in reporting back since our return to Iceland.

Our flight to Reykjavik feels like the movie Night & Day

The weather greeting us back to Iceland…

As we leave the terminal at Keflavik airport, very quickly our memories of warmer climes faded as the reality of the local summer temperatures hit home. We have realised that we are fair weather people and that our exploring should be limited to suitable climes, for us anyway.  Perhaps we are like the dinosaurs and need a minimum temperature to function, I guess that is why we live in Brisbane. The first evening back, we were had dinner with our friends Kristjan and Asdis again, such generous hosts and sadly we must say good-bye again.

Streak and Storm are recovered from the storage graciously provided by friends in Iceland and with a little work, Anthony successfully replaces the left hand instrument cluster with the aid of the BMW assembly/ instructions. Before obtaining these, he had found various incorrect ways to remove the original part online, from those who had struggled to do it without the aid of the correct instructions. Perhaps they should be made available by BMW for those who are unable to get to an official dealer – there is not one in Iceland.

After a month of riding in the rain and cold in July, and with temperatures even lower now in September, we decide we’d cut our time in Iceland short and try and catch a ferry back to Denmark a week early.  We are in luck and we are now due to leave on 4th of September.  We watch the weather radar very carefully and plan our exit from Reykjavik so that we can avoid the brutal winds that usually lash the south coast around Vik.  I really wanted to return to Þingvellir National Park and despite the overcast weather, we returned, twice!  Anthony is very accommodating.  We had visited this park in March 2018 ( https://2slowspeeds.com/2018/03/03/iceland-the-last-chapter-for-now/) and it was my urge to revisit this area in particular that brought us back to Iceland.  Iceland is divided by the Mid-Atlantic Rift and Þingvellir is the only place on earth where the Mid-Atlantic rift is above sea level, with both edges clearly visible.  Western Iceland such as the Westfjords and Reyjavík, are on the North American tectonic plate, while areas to the east of here, such as Vatnajökull glacier and the East Fjords, are on the Eurasian plate. To think that the 2 rift walls are now 4cm further apart than when we were here last… Can you imagine?!   How awe inspiring to see nature at its rawest!  I had hoped to camp in the area but due to the massive increase in travellers to Iceland, the impact of too many thoughtless tourists leaving trash behind and walking over the delicate moss, camping in Iceland is now restricted to designated camp sites – not our preferred kind of camping – and seeing it was raining and we had a lovely warm apartment in town… Maybe another time!

Stopped for a walk on our way to Þingvellir Nat’l Parlk

Nesjavellir geothermal plant

At Þingevillir Nat’l Parl, with the fault line in the background

Þingevillir Nat’l Park

The North American wall of the fault line in the background

I just love those mossy rocks, in a forest in Reykjavik

This was in March 2018

And now in Sept 2019

The latest street art, in the middle of a construction area

Finally, on the last day we gave ourselves to leave Reykjavik to make it comfortably to the ferry, we have sunshine!  The decision to wait in Reykjavik for an extra day is finally vindicated, we awake to bright sunshine and clear skies.  We could not ask for anything better and we are off.

Heading out of Reykjavik

I quietly hope that all the information on the weather site (en.vedur.is which shows wind, rain and temperatures) is accurate as I have been told and have read horror stories about the wind around Vik, with motorhomes being blown off the road etc…  

Seljalands waterfall

Icelandic farmhouse dwarfed by an old volcano

Typical icelandic village church

Reynisfjara beach, geology reminiscent of Staffa in Scotland

Reynisfjara beach, Iceland

Freezing but happy on Reynisfjara beach

Reynisfjara beach, Iceland

Admiring Reynisfjara’s cave

Heading towards Skatafell, Iceland

We bypass the usual tourist Ring of Fire circuit, having done it last year and we make it to Skatafell by the end of the day, having stopped along the coast, around Vik and through the windy stretches under clear blue skies and manageable wind.  Three reasons to relax now:  the windy part is over, we have time to spend a whole day tomorrow to hike around Skatafell, and Katla volcano which is overdue for an eruption, stayed asleep for us.  I had read that Vik residents regularly go through evacuation practice:  Katla usually erupts every 20 to 90 years and has not erupted violently for 101 years.  Iceland’s last eruption occurred in 2010.  Prior to that Grimsfjoll in Vatnajokull glacier erupted in 2004 and Hekla volcano erupted in the year 2000. Hekla is one of Iceland’s most active volcanoes and erupted in 1947, 1970, 1980, 1990 and 2000. So again, it is likely Hekla will erupt soon.  

Luckily, the campsite at Skaftafell is huge and pretty empty.  There are no showers which is fine for but nowhere for me to leave my camera battery recharger.  We do use the cafetaria to recharge our electronic equipment for a shortwhile but that is not sufficient for my camera.  Sadly on this trip, I found out that my usb device on my bike was now faulty and I have not been able to recharge while riding.  And the 4 new batteries I bought at the start of the trip, while they have the same specifications as the original Panasonic ones, only last a third of the time…  that means that the one time on this trip that we’ve had blue skies and fabulous scenery, I have not been able to recharge my batteries so have had to use my phone camera while walking to save the Panasonic one for riding.  This I came to regret to next day when we hiked towards Vatnajökull glacier’s Skatafell outlet. Very much first world problem, but this trip has shown us how dependent on power we are.  Time to look into solar panels for our top boxes maybe.  

The view of Vatnajökull from our campsite at Skaftafell

The next day is spent hiking.  An absolutely glorious day. From Vatnajökull glacier, around 30 outlet glaciers flow from the ice cap of which Skaftafell is one.

My clotheshanger as I strip on our hike up

Skaftafell glacial valley

Skaftafell glacier

Loving our walk around Skaftafell

Hiking in Skaftafell Nat’l Park

What comes with clear blue skies?  Clear night skies. And yes, that can mean Northern Lights.  And it did!!  We saw them our first night at Skatafell, but only lightly.  They were more like light cloud, but the dancing around gave them away.  The second night, which went down to 3 degrees and was floody breezing, was great:  we saw clear the bright green dancing lights.  I was happy.  It was magical.  After a long hike our bodies needed the warmth if the the sleeping bags but I couldn’t help but keep checking.  That means partially crawling out the sleeping bag, opening the tent and re-cocooning myself up.  After doing that half a dozen times, I gave up, telling myself I was content with what I saw.  Time for sleep.  Then around midnight, some campers a distance away became rowdy, laughing and screaming.  They’ll calm down eventually I thought to myself.  As it continued, I suddenly wondered whether the shouting was about the lights.  I crawled out again and my oh my!!  It was now pink and green!  Thank you Iceland!  Thank you nature.  A dream come true.  Absolutely magical and truly mesmerising.  And no, I have no photo.  I didn’t even think of taking a picture, I just kept watching.  

We’ve now had 2 days of blue skies, hiked around Vatnajökull National Park, saw the northern lights, we are content and feel ready to leave Iceland.  We have a very leisurely ride back to Seyðisfjöður.

Leaving Vatnajökull Nat’l park

Jökulsárlón, Glacier lagoon

Höfn, Iceland

Our last bit of dirt road in Iceland

Waiting for the ferry at Seydisfjöður

We eventually board our ferry in for our 3 night, 2 full days crossing, via the Faroes.  Not sure how we scored this cabin!!  The view from our window and the tv, showing the view from the ship were identical!  Lucky the sea was calm as it could have been interesting being top and front of the ship.

A room with a view – our cabin

The window top left is our cabin’s

Arriving at the Ferroes

The highlight of this crossing though was catching up with our Feroese friends who drove an hour to Torshavn to see us.  Not only did Unn and Jørgin come but their kids Rannvá and Rani left their friends to be with us.  That is what keeps us travelling, the connections we make.   

Unn, Jørgin, Rannvá and Rani

Unn and Jørgin took us to Kirkjubøargarður which we hadn’t managed to see.  It dates back to the 11th century and was the episcopal residence and seminary of the diocese of the Feroes.  The legend says that the wood for the houses came as driftwood for Norway.  The farmhouse, now a museum, is still occupied by the 17th generation of the Patursson family!  Magnus cathedral nearby was started in 1300 but never completed.

Kirkjubøur, Faroe Islands

With Unn

With Unn

Still haven’t seen those skies in the Faroes!

Just before returning to our ferry, Unn gives me a bag of carefully and thoughtfully chosen Feroese souvenirs.  Any mention of Feroes will forever remind us our wonderful Feroese family.   Hopefully one day, we’ll be able to show them around Brisbane…

– Anne

A week in the Faroes

I yearned for a return to nature and solitude. Even though we set off from the capital Torshavn in the rain on our first day exploring the Faroes in its typical foggy and drizzly best, it wasn’t long before I felt I was exactly where I needed to be.  The past 9 months’ stress fizzled away into the mist, lifting my spirit, even made me feel like I could start it all over again – but not just yet!!

Can you tell Anne is loving riding in the Faroes?

Although we are fair weather people, there is something about misty weather that somehow connects you more to nature. Even though the lighting is mostly grey, the greens look as if you are seeing them through polarising glasses. Yellow, pink, white, orange and purple wildflowers line the roads, walking paths and cover most pastures.   It is not only the greens that are mindblowingly bright, every colour is sharp – the air must be so pure here.  The beauty of riding bikes as opposed to driving is that you can smell nature, there are so many flowers, you can smell them as you ride.  Maybe not so good for those with pollen allergy.  You can also smell the fish as you ride through villages.  

Foggy morning in the Faroes

Wildflowers everywhere in the Faroes

Wildflower in Tjornuvik, Streymoy

In Sandavágur, Vagar

Gásadalur, Vagar

View from Vagar

Up to Saksun, Streymoy

Typical church in the Faroes

“Thanks for Everything” is commonly written on gravestones in the Faroes

Saksun, Streymoy

Saksun, Streymoy

Saksun, Streymoy

On the way to Tjornuvik, Streymoy

Tjornuvik, Streymoy

Tjornuvik, Streymoy

Planting potatoes in Tjornuvik, Streymoy

Waterfalls everywhere in the Faroes, Streymoy

The scenery is breathtaking!  At times, it reminds us of either New Zealand, the Drakensberg in South Africa, Ireland or even Iceland.  But the Faroes have a feel of their own.  You feel the Faroese culture at every bend as the countryside is dotted with tiny hamlets, each costal one with its own little harbour.  The air is clear like I have never experienced – even my own photos nearly look fake or like miniature villages.  

On our way to Gjogv Eysturoy

Funningur, Eysturoy

Bumping into Nimbus Danes we met on the ferry over in Funningur, Eysturoy

Some of the Nimbus bikes in Funningur, Eysturoy

Anne is happy in Funningur, Eysturoy

View from above Funningur, Eysturoy

We have visited a handful of the 18 islands which form the Faroes, enjoyed a number of small walks – it is hard to go for long hikes in motorcycle riding boots – and enjoyed just being, taking in the breathtaking raw beauty of this land.  We were too late in organising ourselves for this trip to get to Mykines, one of the islands I really wanted to visit but had also been warned that trips there could be cancelled because of the weather – in our case, we could get there but not get back as every ferry and helicopter flight was fully booked.   We didn’t want to take the risk of getting there and being stuck there for days.  The attraction there was puffins and more inevitable breathtaking views.  But we saw puffins elsewhere, in Gjogv (pronounced “jegv”) so all’s good.

Old port in Gjogv, Eysteroy

Gjogv, Eysturoy

Puffin spotting in Gjogv Eysturoy

And maybe there was another reason we had to go to Gjogv:  as we were leaving the village, we bumped into a Dutch motorcyclist who was in Mongolia at the same time as us in 2017 and had been trying for the past 2 years to trace an Italian who he had heard had broken his ankle and had to leave his motorcycle behind to be shipped back.  Feeling sorry for him, the Dutchman fixed the Italian’s broken windscreen for him and left a note wishing him well.    He is Lino, the Italian we had come across in Khovd  and for whom I had organised a local driver to take him to hospital.  That evening, after returning to the campsite from Gjogv,  I was able to email the Dutchman the Italian’s contact details.  What are the odds, once again?!?!  This really is such a small world…

The weather hasn’t been too bad.  Apart from the first days when the rain was pretty heavy, we have just had a spattering of rain, and fog.  No wind and not that cold.  Making camping pretty enjoyable, even for Anthony!  Sadly, the Faroes no longer allow wild camping because of too many inconsiderate tourists in the past so we have had to stay in official camping areas – nearly unheard of with the Speeds!! But we did find Aduvik, on Esturoy, which we ended up staying 4 nights because we loved the spot so much – can you tell?!  Just a pity some people can be so noisy especially when in such a wonderfully quiet and wild area.

Camping at Aeduvik, Eysturoy

Relaxing at our camp at Aeduvik, Eysturoy

Watch where you’re walking when so close to the water – I tripped up taking photos of the algae!

Exploring the rocks at Aeduvik, Eysturoy

Our campsite at Aeduvik

Travelling isn’t just about enjoying new scenery or riding fabulous roads, but all about the people and learning about new cultures.  Talking to locals always brings an added level of appreciation of the places we are passing through.  And what an unexpected and amazing evening last night!

As I stood looking out over the rocks, out to sea, I struck up a conversation with this guy who seemed to enjoy the area as much as I did. It turns out Jørgin is a local, and he and his wife and family are over to prepare the hay for his 88 year old father-in-law’s beloved 8 sheep, which Jacob keeps as a hobby but the whole family gets involved in looking after.  Jørgin‘s wife Unn came over and we chatted for a while, until it was time for Jørgin and Unn to return to the field and get back to work. Jokingly, Unn suggested we go over and help to which Anthony suggested they could actually charge tourists to help them.  

Well, I decided to go over and see what the process entailed and offered to help.  They still follow the traditional Faroese process:  after the grass is cut, it is first raked into little piles.  Then you go back to each pile, turn the pile over, moving it away from it’s spot to allow the ground to dry, then spreading the pile flat again to allow it to dry.  Because the weather was too damp, it was eventually decided to stop the spreading step and go to the next step of moving each pile into a single line down the hill. The next step involves pushing the central pile with the rake upside down, and pushing the grass into one massive pile which is then lifted into a large bale bag in a couple of easy swinging movements – that is best done by 2 people, each holding one bale bag handle, one foot standing on the edge of the bag and then scoop-rolling the hay into the bag.  An hour and a half flew by.  Because the hay and weather were too damp, the hay was then transferred to a drying ‘shed’ beside the campground.  An old 1960’s car engine is used to heat the hay for 24 hours.

Preparing hay in the Faroes

Unn teaching me

Turning over and spreading the small piles to dry them out

My line ready to be pushed down the hill

I hadn’t planned on spending an hour and a half raking grass and gathering it into bales.  It felt great and I loved how it was a whole family affair, with 3 generations involved.  Earlier, while we were raking, Unn asked me what we had planned for dinner:  ham and crackers.  Why don’t you come over to my parents for dinner and experience a Faroese home and dinner?  What a fabulous offer?  I accepted without asking Anthony as I knew he’d love the opportunity too.

Jørgin and Unn on the far left

Not only did we have a sumptuous dinner of home made leek soup with meat balls, carrots and potato dumplings, home dried sheep, cod which Jacob caught earlier today (at 88, he still goes out fishing on his own every day), various cooked meats, cabbage salad followed by all sorts of chocolates and cake.  We learned so much about life in the Faroes, including social security, employment insurance, retirement, higher education.  

After dinner, Jørgin drove us to the largest fish farming company in the Faroes.  They work 2 shifts a day so at 10:30 at night, we were able to see the whole process by driving past the large windows – workers happily waving at us as we stopped!  Pitty we didn’t know when we arrived that the company organises tours every Saturday.  Next stop, the little harbour which is preparing for a fish festival this Saturday.

Suddenly it 11:15pm and it is just barely dusk.  What a fabulous experience.  And our favourite camping spot at Aduvik happens to be Unn and Jørgin’s favourite place too.

Our last day is spent wondering the streets of Torshavn.

Learning about printmaking at Studio Bloch, Torshavn

Ingenious rowing boats with provision for small engines in Torshavn

Torshavn port

Thanks for everything Faroes.  

– Anne

Life back home

We are only home a week and I volunteer to present at an upcoming motorcycle forum in just 2 weeks’ time. And not one presentation, but two different ones! What was I thinking?! We hadn’t finished unpacking yet, I hadn’t even switched my PC on, let alone downloaded all our photos from the last 7 months’ travel and the inevitable multiple software updates (and all the surprises, frustrations and headaches this exercise always attracts). We still have so many lunches, afternoon teas and dinners to have to catch up with friends – that all important step to regrounding ourselves. I did volunteer though … and very glad to have done so really.

Lunch with friends

As Anthony explained, we wanted to give back to the motorcycle community which we have got advice, information, inspiration from over time. It was a massive job preparing those 40 minute presentations but it was worth it from a giving back point of view and meeting fellow travellers, old and new. We decided to hire a car rather than fly or put our 19 year old car through 3000kms suddenly after not being used for months: that way we could also catch up with friends – sorry we missed so many, but hiring a car meant quite a few extra dollars for every day away …

Destination: Jindabyne for 4 days, 1500kms each way. First stop, Sydney and catch with friend and faithful blog follower John. We met John when we went to Bhutan in 2009: the three of us were always last, constantly stopping for photos, taking in the scenery and simply enjoying a sedate ride. It was great to catch up, chewing the fat and enjoying Sydney’s stunning harbour and tasty food. Talk about travel was never far!!

Magnificient Sydney Harbour

Rather than camping over the 4 days at the motorcycle meeting, we took up the generous offer of staying at a friend’s house just 50kms away. It meant a bit of driving everyday, but what’s 100kms?! And the scenery is simply gorgeous – just no drinking for me as I was the designated driving. Anthony found out just before we left for this week’s trip that his cataracts had worsened badly – yes, he realised that of course but the diagnosis means a consultation with the surgeon this week. So no driving at night for him (although he is still legally allowed to drive). And we made sure we avoided the dangerous dusk and dawn driving as big kangaroos are everywhere in this area.

The Horizons Unlimited Snowy Mountains 2017 meeting was fun to attend. The presentations were well received based on the lovely feedback we had and we were asked if we would make our presentations available, so they must have them useful.

HU Snowy 2017 presentation

The presentations are UK to Oz (and back) and Iran and Stans.

The weather was pretty wild and unusually freezing for that time of the year!

Jindabyne in November!

Everyone’s bike is set up differently

On the way back, with stopped over in Sydney to see our oldest Australian friends – Jenny we met in southern Egypt in 1982 and we entered the Sudan together. It was wonderful to see Mark and Jenny as always, spending the afternoon chatting, going for a walk to the beach and having a family dinner with the 3 “kids” in the evening.

Many thanks to our friends for their hospitality and generosity. It was so great to see you.

We made the most of passing through Canberra to stop off and visit a exhibition on an important Aboriginal dreamtime story: the Seven Sisters. The paintings there were exquisite and the way the story was explained in different regions extremely well done. How the museum incorporated several paintings with a narrative which you watch lying down staring up at a dome was superb!! Quite magical.

It was a long day driving from Sydney to Brisbane as we stopped off in Port Macquarie to see more friends. Back home before midnight. What a whirlwind week. We packed so much in.

Home again. The rest of the unpacking, more washing from this past week, more paperwork to add to the mound of still-unopened-and-to-be-filed mail that greeted us when we returned from our RTW 3 weeks ago now: oh, this is overwhelming… Tackling the software issues, buying a new PC as Anthony’s died just before we left for the Snowies, sorting out the weeds in the garden, finding so many things dying after not being used for so long like the whippersnipper, being faced with a horrendous quote to fix the rusted gutters (we need scaffolding from a scaffold company but also the installation needs to be audited by another specialist to make sure it is safe – occupational health and safety gone mad once again) and paperwork – so much paperwork… And of course, there is the decorating, sometime. It is so much easier on the road: pay the odd bill back home and continue travelling with just 3 decisions: which direction, where will we eat and where will we sleep. So much easier…

The post RTW blues is a common problem and articles have been written about it recently by travellers. Everyone has their way of coping or recovering. We went through it once already, so the second time around, we know what to expect and how to combat it. I was so proud of Anthony when I read his last blog. It takes me a bit longer. My problem is not so much travel “blues” as such but feeling disconnected and rudderless. That’s where reconnecting with friends and having a routine is important to me. And working on new plans for the future.

First, a trip back bush calls me so I am off for a week. I buy new, fabulous art and visit some old friends. It is exactly what I needed on many levels. And my drive out bush was so special. I am just disappointed that I was not able to visit one particular community which always brings me so much joy but the road conditions would not allow me in the car I had – there was a shortage of 4×4 in Alice this week and I only managed to get a ‘fake’ one, an automatic Mitsubishi outlander. It would not have got me across the Sandover river bed. I chose sense over heart… can you believe that?!

I don’t like flying but love seeing the world from the air – our gorgeous outback

Red centre sand dunes

The area around Alice is looking green after all the rain


Wild weather in Alice – my car nearly submerged in 15 minutes


The Sandover Highway

The road to Mulga Bore is looking slippery today

Mavis, who welcomed me into the family 14 years ago and to whom I owe so much

Oh I do love being here

It was a short but fun day out

I was not going to pay the $80 washing fee so did it myself!! That red mud is sticky!!

The resident peacock at my hotel in Alice

And I am looking forward to going home!!! RTW blues over 🙂

– Anne

Sri Lanka 24 hours: tragedy to comedy

A jolt as the train stops suddenly on a steel bridge of uncertain age wakes me from my torpor in this humid weather, the rusty cast iron bridge alongside does not fill me with confidence, or the comments from our fellow passengers about not swimming in the river due to crocodiles. Humm let’s get off the bridge. As the minutes tick by, it becomes apparent that something has happened, what we are not sure, then word filters through the train: someone is dead, an accident, no, sadly suicide, a 23 year old young man just stepped in front of our train. The body collected at the back of the train and we move slowly to the next station a few hundred metres away. Many passengers had headed to the back of the train and one young man had taken photos which he was showing to anyone who interested. Passengers gather on the platform to look, comments such as ‘bad person’ or ‘it’s usually the girls, haha’ are said to us by the man who was sitting behind us, now standing on the platform outside Anne’s open window. Is this a frequent occurrence? I cannot judge how different cultures and religions react to such events as this, perhaps here the Buddhist reincarnation plays a part in the apparent indifference to the tragedy. A whistle, the train schedule is resumed, no police examination, we are off again.

As we pull out of the station, we pass two men carrying a stretcher with the poor man’s body just outside our train window, all the more poignant for Anne, having lost her brother to suicide 18 years ago. This tragedy is yet to touch this young man’s family and friends, his life passed no more than 15 minutes ago. Will they react with as much indifference as those around us? Having stood at Gallipoli and seen thousands of lives ended prematurely and having wondered what each might have achieved in love and life, we are filled with sadness at a loss of life before the fullness of time. I write this couple of paragraphs within half an hour of the suicide as we, on the train, continue on with the normality of our lives…

Our train stopped after fatally striking a 23 year old boy, Sri Lanka

Our title has two elements, the tragedy you have read and our struggle with thoughts and emotions as the train rattled on towards Colombo and the comedy you need to see below:

All this took place in the space of one hour on the same train. Life goes on regardless of our personal circumstances and feelings and sometimes, it’s better from an emotional viewpoint to be swept up and ride the wave of life.

A little difficult to revert to ‘normal’ writing mode, Sri Lanka was the next logical stop on our acclimation return to Brisbane and our 97th country to be visited. With only two full days and a vast and intriguing country in front of us, we needed to be very selective. I wanted to see more than just Colombo but what: rivers, mountains, game parks all interesting but too far away. We chose Galle, about 110 km. / 70 ml. south, a port first used over two Millenia ago exporting cinnamon, visited by the famous Chinese admiral Zheng He, then a fortified city, started by the Portuguese, upgraded by the Dutch and finally occupied by the British as part of the global European empire competition that took place over the world for a number of centuries , a bit like the European Soccer Championships today. Winner takes all.

There is a railway line connecting the two cities which runs along the coast at some points which I understood made for interesting viewing. As we wait for our train at Colombo Fort station, one of Colombo’s two main railway stations the sights are one for UK train buffs, the stations, signage and jobs are a throwback to an era long past, down to the cardboard train tickets, 180 rupees or about £0.90. / US $1.20 for a second class ticket to travel over 110km. 70 ml. Trains are all diesel both DMU and locomotive drawn. The old UK problem of ‘Slam door’ trains has been resolved here, the doors do not close, helps with the ventilation as well. Our Galle bound train pulls in, the locomotive was built in Varanasi by Indian Railways, a place we visited in 2014 on RTW1.
Our engine pulls eight old carriages out of the station in a cloud of unburnt diesel fumes. The rhythmic thump of the engine and the coal like smell has one almost imagining a steam loco up front. All the equipment is aged, some more than others, I suspect that any increased passenger capacity comes due to not retiring older equipment. The track does indeed run by the ocean as we travel southward passing through small towns and villages, houses built close up to the railway tracks. The coal smell is replaced by sea and then drying fish as we progress.

Our train to Galle, Sri Lanka

Spotted on a train in Sri Lanka

Galle Fort turns out to be, yes you guessed it, another UNESCO world heritage site to add to the collection, and it is surrounded by a dutch style walls reminiscent of Cape Town castle, same era of course, buildings have both Dutch and English heritage. While a smorgasbord of sightseeing awaits us, we are looking forward to going home, the journey is over and we want to go home, I fell more like sleeping than exploring, so Anne wanders the walled city. Enjoy the photo collection that Anne has created of our visit.

Playing cricket outside Galle Fort walls


Galle, Sri Lanka

Home in Galle, Sri Lanka

Art deco, Galle


City wall and mosque, Galle, Sri Lanka


Dutch Reformed church, Galle

Fort entrance, Galle


Galle, Sri Lanka

Playing cricket in the Magister Square, Galle

Street sign, Galle

Waiting to sell the last tuna fish of the day, Galle

Arangawan, the sweet tuna fish seller, Galle

Had a great chat with Saman, Galle

Galle coast, Sri Lanka

We all love watching a stunning sunset, Galle

Fishing boats, Galle

Early morning fish market, Galle

School girls, Galle

Train timetable, Galle, Sri Lanka

Galle, Sri Lanka

Although we have one more stop in Singapore to see our friends and our godsons before getting home to Brisbane, this feels like the end of the road. We celebrate with a Sri Lankan dinner at the ‘Ministry of Crab’ – guess what we had for dinner. It was superb and a great way to celebrate the end of RTW2.

– Anthony