Snapshot From Archives - Don't Forget To Move

Snapshot From: A Mekong River Longtail Boat

The longtail boat motor chugs away noisy, yet the boat gracefully glides across the mighty Mekong River in northern Cambodia. Cutting through the glassy surface like a hot knife through butter. Our driver cautiously navigates the countless rocks and trees poking out of the water. We’re coming towards the end of the dry season, so the water level is really shallow in some parts. From the edge of the boat I can occasionally see the bottom, and the obstacles on route pop up out of nowhere, with just enough frequency to make sure the boat driver stays alert.

Aside from the motor it’s very quiet along the river. Every time the driver slows down to navigate a rough patch the roaring motor quietens down and you remember just how peaceful it is out here. Nobody out here except the birds circling above, making their way to and from the wetlands.

Swirling whirlpools form around the rocky river bed. They twist and turn the boat as we approach them slowly. They’re only minor, but I’d hate to see them in the peak of the rainy season when the river flows full and fast. We continue on past them and then into another shallow section near one of the many islands that spring up along the Mekong.

Just when we’re about to come out of the shallow section we stop with a sudden halt and all of us lunge forward. We look over the edge of the boat and see that we’ve hit a big sandbank bang on in the middle of the river. We’re jammed up on the bank, so the only way out is to hop over the edge and push the boat.

“The sky dances between splashes of yellow, purple and orange before finally settling on a light pink haze that covers the sky”

The cool water feels very refreshing on my feet and I’m half tempted to jump in fully clothed. It wouldn’t matter, it’s so hot out that I’m going to dry quick anyway. The boat slowly moves itself off the bank, and just before I jump back in a splash myself down. We take off a bit faster now, and the feeling of the water on my face cools me down as it dries almost instantaneously.

The trip from the Laos border back to Stung Treng is about 4 hours, and the whole way I’m in awe of the natural beauty along the river. It’s truly stunning, especially towards the end of the trip as the sun starts to slowly set above the horizon of large trees. The sky dances between splashes of yellow, purple and orange before finally settling on a light pink haze that covers the sky and hangs on right up into our longtail boat comes to a stop.

We’re back on solid ground, but my head still rocks side to side for a while. As I found my footing again to climb the river bank I take one last look at the river before nightfall sets in. This is a view I could never get tired of!

Have you taken a Mekong River longtail boat recently? We’d love to hear about your experience! Drop us a comment below or come find us on Facebook or Twitter!

Snapshot From: The Twelve Apostles

Happy weekend Movers! We’ve had quite a BUSY week preparing for our trip. In just 4 short days, we leave to Phuket, Thailand!! We’ve tried to cram as much of Australia in as possible the past few weeks, including a two day trip down the Great Ocean Road! This beautiful highway runs along the coast of Victoria, just Southwest of Melbourne. We’ll be posting a full itinerary in the next couple days (spoiler alert: there was a lot of eating!) but for now, enjoy a snapshot of one of the most popular attractions on the Great Ocean Road, The Twelve Apostles. The gorgeous rock formations were once part of the cliff line but were eventually chipped away by erosion until they stood on their own. Even though this site is a bit crowded with tourists, it’s really an incredible view and a good reminder of the immense power of the ocean.

This coming week we’ll be wrapping up our posts about Melbourne and then moving on to writing about Asia! Stay tuned!

Amazon River Boat: The Authentic Tour

Amazon River Boat Story

My hammock rocks and sways as we make our way down the Amazon River in Peru. It’s been a few restless nights to say the least. The top deck becomes freezing, as the evening breeze creeps in through the holes of the protective canvas. Now I see why the locals don’t go for the open air view at the top.

The hammock is too small, and I’ve already put a rip in it. I should have known better when I purchased it for $7, somethings just aren’t worth the bargain. I’ve done a quick repair job, but now I fear it’ll snap at any moment in the middle of the night. I suggest forking out a couple of extra bucks if you’re going to be using it more often, especially in South America. A decent double sized hammock is definitely a good investment. Not only is it comfortable, but it’s super light weight and packs up to be tiny. Sometimes you just can’t substitute quality.

We’re waiting for dinner when some young kid comes up up to chat. I don’t mind, but he’s fascinated by my blonde leg hair and keeps trying to stroke my legs. He’s a nice kid, but after seeing all the preventative sex predator posters I get the feeling this kid is working undercover. ‘Wooh wooh wooh’, I shout loud enough for people around me to hear, as I detach his inquisitive hand from my ankle. I have to shoo him away politely before I’m caught on some secret camera and extorted by the authorities.

The bell rings for dinner and everybody rushes down to form the line for gruel. Christine doesn’t join me after she had a little run in with the kitchen staff. I’ve got no problems though, I can even get extras. For some reason all the kitchen staff are cross-dressers and I seem to have caught their eye. I feel slightly exploited as I bat my eyelids and make small talk for an extra piece of bread, but hey, free is free.

Up at the deck we pick through our meal and determine what is edible. We try to eat as much as possible because it’s a long time between meals. It’s now dark and there isn’t much to do but read. After a few hours we try to nestle in for a sleep, but you don’t really sleep on this boat, more like a long disrupted nap.

At the back of the boat a drunk game of cards continues late into the night, making it even harder to drift off, but eventually even they get bored. The night is a mixture of weird dreams, midnight stops with lots of shouting and gathering of items and then eventually the morning breakfast bell rings at 5:30am.

Now here’s the good part, and no it’s definitely not the breakfast soup. We’re up early because there isn’t anything else to do, but as a result we get to watch as the sun rises over the Amazon River. The morning sun busts out of the darkness to warm the frigid air. The bright rays dance on ripples of the water and brighten the murky morning. Lush trees of the jungle around us light up and the calls of the waking animals echo across the water. We climb up on top of the roof to let the sun defrost us and take in a new day.

A new day, a new adventure! Even though the nights are tough, it shouldn’t be any deterrent for the days that follow. Get yourself on board the boat, string up a hammock and leave the rest to the unknown. And while you’re there say g’day to Roberto for me, or is it Roberta?

Islas Ballestas Peru: SNAPSHOT FROM

The first time I went to the Islas Ballestas Peru I was decently hungover after a massive night on the Pisco. At $2 a litre, and rumoured to make you go blind, it certainly gets the job done. I had planned the trip with a bunch of friends, and not wanting to disappoint, I reluctantly dragged my still drunk ass out of bed at 7am. As a result I spent most of the time with my head over the edge of the boat waiting to bring up breakfast.

Determined to give it another go, a few years later I found myself in Pisco again and able to go round two with the islands. Ballestas might not have anything on the famous Galapagos islands, but for the price, duration and ease of access there’s no wonder they’ve been nicknamed The Poor Man’s Galapagos. All up the trip to the islands cost about $15 and takes 2 hours. What I discovered this time was a set of islands much more enjoyable when you’re not slouching in your seat with your head between your knees.

We boarded the boats at Paracas Pier early in the morning, and while they didn’t make a stop on the islands, at least this time I got close enough to enjoy the marine wildlife. First stop on the trip was a visit to the island shores, where thousands of sea lions lazily lounge about. Maybe it was mating season, or maybe they’re just massive players, but the papa sea lions seemed to be pimping out at least 4-5 lioness at a time. You get to hear the grunting and barking of orders as they kick it like kings on their rocky thrones. We also saw seals, Humboldt penguins and I swear I got a glimpse of a whale.

After bearing witness to the voyeuristic sea lions we made our way round to check out the local colonies of birds that call this place home. On the way there I literally had to duck and weave like a boxer to avoid the white droplets raining from the sky, as what felt like a million birds flew above me. The birds, who nest in the rocky crevasses of the islands, are also responsible for covering the islands with a snow like layer of bird poop called guano. They produce so much or this stuff that it’s harvested yearly like crops and sold off as boutique fertiliser. I’m talking hundreds of tons of the stuff a year. It’s certainly puts a new spin on the phrase ain’t worth shit!

After the birds we headed back to shore with a trip past an ancient inscription which has been carved into a mountain side that shoulders the Paracas bay. It’s shaped like a giant trident, and has some old historical links to the ancient Paracas culture. It’s just a preview if you’re headed down to Nazca check out the lines, but cool all the same.

With feet on dry land again I can definitely say that Isla de Ballestas is worth the time and money if something like the Galapagos isn’t on your itinerary or in your budget. My only word of advice, save the Pisco for after the boat trip!

Snapshot From: An Amazon Tri-Border

It’s 2pm and we’ve hit the end of the road in northern Peru. Actually it’s the end of the river, and by this stage it has taken us 4 idle days of slow boats to arrive in the middle of nowhere; a town called Santa Rosa. A grass trodden path leads us to a thin wooden plank bridge that we must cross before getting into town. The wood bends and bows under the weight of our heavy backpacks and we’re cautious of falling into the murky waters. After 10 shaky minutes we step off intact and still dry. In the midst of our celebration we turn back to witness an older lady, who appears to be pushing 80, cross carrying a basket of clothes on her head with ease. We tell ourselves she’s obviously had a lot more practice and shrug off the spectators giggles from afar.

We’re on the Peruvian side of the Amazon River and are looking for the immigration office to stamp out, not an easy task. There are barely any signs to show it’s location and we manage to walk past it a number of times before finally discovering it. From the outside it simply looks like a residential house, with pealing paint on the weatherboard from a blistering sun. There is an instant presence of lethargy in the building and from behind the desk a man raises one eye from a magazine, clearly bothered by us interrupting his “work”.

This tri-border is home to all the dark and dangerous things that you associate with the depths of the Amazon jungle. Sex trafficking, the trade of endangered species, black markets and all the other mysterious activities that come with a city on the edge of the unknown. If you’re on the run or looking for those less conventional market items, you’re come to the right place. It’s no wonder this has a reputation as one of the dodgiest places in South America.

In the morning we leave Peru and take a rickety old boat across the narrow river and enter Colombia territory for the first time at Leticia. Across the main highway we can walk into Brazil at Tabatinga. 3 different currencies circulate the area, making conversions a nightmare. We have 24 hours to officially check in, but nobody seems too rushed in the suffocating heat of a city surrounded by dense jungle.

At the airport we see faded posters warning travellers of the penalties for partaking in any of the illegal activities that make this region infamous. Somehow I feel these warnings aren’t very usefully positioned. It’s hard to imagine a man trying to check a baby tiger into his hand luggage and then being surprised once he spots these preventative posters. However, as a man at the airport tells us, stupider people have been caught.

After a few days we were ready to get a move on. The opportunistic temptations of the dark jungle don’t entice us to stick around and we’re over the heat. We’d already completed a jungle trip, so there really isn’t too much to see except the inner workings of a multicultural city that trades in much more than an assortment of currencies . We board our flight to the north of Colombia and farewell The Amazon from the clouds.