London: wet, Wimbledon, family, culture and great friends (23 Jun - 7 Jul)

Photos are here: http://picasaweb.google.com/nickchasingthesunrise/LondonInnit

A rundown on the best of my time in Lahndan, innit...

Fri 22 June: I arrived at Heathrow which has got to be one of the largest, most gloomy airports I have ever experienced. Long, dreary corridors with low ceilings and no sense of arriving in such a fine city. Jumped on the tube and made about 42 connections before jumping on a bus going the wrong way and finally got back on track to meet up with Vic Wheeler, Paul & Adele (over from New York) and some of their friends. I was exhausted so just had a pint of some lager or another. I stayed with Vic and Dave, who live in Camberwell in south London in a lovely old hospital building converted to high ceiling flats. Great to see them again after way too long.

Clubbing and shopping: on Saturday Vic and I set out for some shopping in downtown Camberwell before heading to meet Paul, Adele and Daniel for lunch at a cafe along the Thames at Festival Hall. After some delightful grazing Vic and I ambled towards Covent Garden for some shopping. I found the wickedest pair of pointy dress shoes in Aldos for £30 which have a dragon on the sole. Way cool. To confirm the coolness, a pair of very cool black guys asked me where I got them and headed for the rack. How many times can I use the word cool? Being Saturday night we went back for a power nap and then prepared for the evening - glitter liberally applied. Vic had tickets for Turnmills, a London institution in the club scene so she, Paul and I headed out. DJs included the infamous, and seldom seen, Eddie Scratch, plus the wicked tunes from the electronica group, The Shape Shifters. We emerged into the dawn light thoroughly sated. Being summer the sun sets around 9-10pm and rises around 4am so there is so much of the day to use. The next morning (afternoon) saw a very leisurely start to the day after the night before. Spent most of it watching movies and chatting with Dave about his dive trip to the Canary Islands. Dave has been to the Red Sea in Egypt so picked his brains on the good spots and people to dive with there. Also planned some of the explorations of London, meeting with family and the Middle East trip. Can't wait!

Natural History Museum and Kensington: Caught the bus to Westminster to wander around around but (surprise, surprise) it was raining - a constant feature of my time in the UK. Caught another bus to Kensington for the Natural History Museum, somewhere I have always wanted to explore. It is definitely one of the best museums ever, so much to see and so well organised with interactive exhibits and loads of serious information. Highlights include the dinosaurs, animal reliefs on the museum walls and columns, brilliant robotics especially the Tyranosaurus Rex which terrified children, huge purse spider, dazzling private gemstone collections, Kobe earthquake simulation room and so much more. Five hours later I emerged exhausted but well satisfied...and much smarter. Walked around Kensington including gaudy golden monument to (I think) Queen Victoria's husband, Prince whatsisname, near Albert Hall. Bussed it home - gawd transport is expensive in this town.

Tate Modern Gallery: housed in an old power station down the Thames from Westminster, this relatively new gallery is brilliant. In addition to the excellent layout of galleries which are arranged according to movements rather than by chronological order, there are always superb exhibitions. I was lucky enough to see 'Dali and Film', a rare insight into Dali and his connection to film. Surprisingly he was interested in reaching a mass audience through cinema and disliked the haughty taughtyof the art cinema scene. This led him to work with Walt Disney and Alfred Hitchcock. I also took in the Global Cities exhibition which provided amazing visual representations for the economic and social indicators many of us read in our jobs every day.

Westminster and the handover of power: I was in London for the very historic handover of power from PM Tony Blair to his loyal and long serving deputy, Gordon Brown, so fitting that I wander around the streets and halls of influence and power. The houses of parliament are awe inspiring and make Canberra look very much like a timid bunker in a hill. Wandered past Westminster Abbey and admired Big Ben and the grand river. Gazed from afar at No. 10 Downing street where a huge platform was being constructed for the media scrum to form later in the week for PM Brown's arrival at his new residence. I was also in London for the Glasgow bomb and other bomb attempts. The definition of a 'dangerous country' is very difficult one to grasp, especially as I plan my trip to Syria and Iran.The latest UK culprits apparently were mostly doctors and some with links in Australia. Interesting to be in a western/rich country which faces the mess that 'our' war on terror has caused. One positive early sign from the Brown government is that he has started referring to the bombing perpetrators as "criminals" rather than "Islamists" or "Islamic terrorists". Surprise, surprise the next day the Muslim Council of Britain issued an unprecendented strong statement against criminal elements and the responsibility of their community to root them out - supporting the Brown stance. Progress is easy when cooler heads prevail. Now for Australia and the US?

Wimbledon: I timed my visit perfectly for the two weeks of the Championships so went twice and it was sensational. The first time I went with Carolina, her flatmate Nadine and Nadine's boyfriend Olly. We caught the train from Waterloo to Wimbledon around 5pm and then a funky old open top double decker red bus to the grounds. Then we saw the infamous queue snaking its way down the road for well over 100 metres. But this wasn't the end, it then turned into a field and continued down the path - it felt like well into the forest. A steward assured me we would get in an hour later which I doubted but we got in within 50 mins - the beers along the way certainly helped, plus Carolina's witty banter. Along the way we passed a second queue of people camped out for show court (Centre Court, 1 and 2). Some had been there from 9am and would be there until the morning the following day! The atmospshere inside was amazing and we wandered the oustide courts, getting so close to the players and seeing some incredible tennis. We caught the end of Nadal's match on court 1 and settled in to watch Marcos Bagdatis in a ripper of a doubles match. The strawberries and cream and wine lubricated some very witty commentary on the matches from yours truly, which of course was well appreciated by the crowd. Nadine found me a Wimbledon cushion and the pushy Carolina shoved an old woman out of the way to get me Bagdatis' autograph. Spent the eveing at Carolina's and Nadine's place analysing the match over much more wine. A great day and one of the only ones without rain. Wimbledon is also where some family used to live, including my dearest grandmother, so of course I felt right at home.

Family connections: I had tracked down some distant cousins through my dearest Grandma and one weekend took the train to Kent to spend some time with them. I stayed with Katrina and her boyfriend James in Sheppey, an island off the east coast of Kent. Kat's mother, 'Auntie Sue', joined us and we spent the weekend swapping stories on my family and our common relatives. Contrary to my assumptions that my family is rather well behaved, I learned of abortionists, sex workers, rum smugglers, game keepers and even two brothers who may have shared a wife/lover who had a child of unclear paternity. We also wandered the grounds and halls of Leeds Castle, again in the rain, and lunched in some oldand distingushed pubs along the way. On the Sunday morning we drove to Kat's father's place on the marshes where he manages a hunting outfit so we talked shooting, pheasants and geese - different. we drove to visit Sue's father, John, who has spent the best part of ten years developing an amazing family tree. Great to meet John and spend time exploring our illicit and intriguing ancestry. Also good to get some dirt on my parents which I will definitely use against them.

Pubs, restaurants and cafes: good spots included the 'London Pub' a cavernous establishment with the bar semingly cut into a cave and a row of tables along the cobbled lane outside. Drank lovely cheap Spanish wine and of course ate Stilton's blue cheese, I am so addicted to blue cheese. Also spent time at the Old Victoria Theatre pub somewhere in Southwark. My last night was spent along Old Street, a gritty area known for as a hangout for journalists and communists with cool bars and pubs for solving the world's problems and boogeying. I also spent many insightful and exhausting hours in the salubrious and witty Vaughan House, a little known eaterie, rest house and watering hole near Waterloo station.

Booked my ticket to Cairo via Rome so will have 9 hours to spend doing a night tour of Roma before the start of the Middle East leg.

19 hours in Toronto: teman2, CN Tower & transit (21-22 June)

Photos here: http://picasaweb.google.com/nickchasingthesunrise/Toronto

As part of my fabulous ticket I get to stop off in transit cities on my route for a maximum of 24 hours. I took advantage of this first in San Fran and then in Toronto where I caught up with Maggie and her hubby. Maggie and I worked together at Ogilvy Jakarta so it was great to catch up with them. I was only there for 19 hours so just caught a glimpse of the fine city. Being an Indonesian and Iranian couple they have a unique perspective, quite the contrast to the western immigrant or expat experience. They insisted on showing me around and went to incredible lengths to look after me. We went to the delightful Hyde Park and the ginormous maple leaf garden. Then we ate until bursting in Chinatown before wandering the city centre and finishing the day off with a superb seafood dinner 300m above the city in the revolving restaurant of the elegant CN Tower, where the glass floor section paralyses those afraid of heights. A unique 19 hours in Toronto.

Next is London and the marvellous Vic Wheeler and gang.

New York (19-21 June)

Just a quick stop off to catch up with a colleague from Ogilvy days and collect things left at Paul and Adele's. Shona and I had a great night walking around the big apple, drinking capirinhas and dining at the fabulous Balthazars which I think is in Soho. Such a fun night.

Now for 19 hours in Toronto...

Ecuador: final days (16-19 June)

Back in Quito I gave up a very tempting trip back to Banos to try and sort out my nose but this was foolish as the travel insurance company needed to refer it to their medical consultants who needed to contact the doctor in Quito...but it was good hanging out with the gang from the Galapagos boat and thinking about my middle east trip. New York here I come again...then Toronto...then London...then the middle east.

Should I keep my new nose?

Ok, now to test your judgment. Is the following story an example of:

a) extremely bad judgment and gross stupidity; or
b) an example of testing one's limits and maintaining the adventurous spirit.

One afternoon in the Galapagos we went snorkelling at Devil's Crown, which is the remains of an underwater volcano so lots of jagged rocks, caves and underwater tunnels (obvious plot device). I found a particularly cool cave so ducked underwater to check it out. It turned out to be a tunnel that went all the way through to the ocean on the other side of the crater wall. I came up and decided that I was going to try it. A deep breath and I ducked under and headed for the light.

The currents were strong both ways and up and down through the tunnel but with fins I soon made it through the 15 metres or so and was bobbing about on the ocean side. I caught my breath and after a minute or so decided to attempt the return swim through. The currents were stronger and about three quarters of the way through I saw the group watching me and realised I would have to swim further to avoid being kicked as I came up. Just as I began the final bit, the current surged and a fin came off my foot causing me to lose some control and surface too quickly. I put my hand above my head as the tunnel ceiling rushed towards me and looked up. There was a sickening crunch as a jagged part of the ceiling ploughed into my face. Luckily I surfaced on the outside and knew something was wrong when 3 or 4 of the girls screamed something like ,"Nick! You're bleeding!"

Having seen sharks just minutes before and with the boat a while away, I pulled myself up onto the rocks and took off my mask. Immediately a lovely gush of blood streamed down my face and my hands were a bright red. Apparently my face also went white. The others signalled frantically for the boat and when it arrived I swam over and it took me back to the Friendship. I spent the next few hours with ice, paracetamol and anti-inflammatories. I found out later that the group saw a good size Galapagos shark in the tunnel a few minutes after I got into the boat. Nice.

Luckily our next stop was the main island of Santa Cruz and that night I walked into the local hospital (clinic) with Cesar as my interpreter. Having done it many times myself I have great empathy for the challenges of translation but I knew I was in trouble when the nurse decided to speak in English and started with the question, “And what is my name?”

An x-ray the next day helped another doctor to determine that the nose was not broken but merely dislocated and that I could finish the final 3 days of the trip and get it checked out in Quito. Well, when I got back to the mainland I went to the Hospital Metropolitano which had a brand spanking new CAT scan machine. The slick doctor brought me the results and, trying to hide his smirk, said, “First, that x-ray was the worst I have ever seen and doesn’t show anything useful. Second, there is no such thing as a dislocated nose. And third, your nose is broken in 4-5 places and you will need surgery to fix it.” Good on you, doc!

So, was it stupid or brave? Bad judgment or pushing one’s limits? And should I have the surgery or live with my new look? Let’s just say that GQ magazine is reviewing my modelling contract.