Reservations – and not Indian ones

Well, after a beautiful trip on the boat, with two showers in 12 hours (credit for the days when we have no showers!) and a shared cabin with a window, we arrived in Prince Rupert. I was looking forward to seeing Cow Bay and the cafe Victoria mentioned, but we arrived at the ferry terminal on the other side of town, called in to a supermarket to get food stores for the journey, then hightailed it inland, along the creek towards Terrace, and ultimately Ksan Indian Village where we set up camp for the night. So no floatplane sightings and no real idea of what Prince Rupert is really like, unfortunately.


Ksan Village is in a beautiful spot, by a fast flowing river and with immaculately grassed areas for our tents. The first time I was able to push pegs in by hand, instead of bending double (can’t squat, see) and battering the pegs with a large stone. I had to dry off my tent first after the deluge at the wilderness campsite near Petersburg. But a really nice site – plenty of room to spread out and get a bit of personal space. A few of us walked over to the town of Hazelton in the evening after we’d had our picnic dinner. It was a lovely walk on a path through fairly long grass, and seemed worth it at the time! Hazelton is a picture-perfect little town, wooden houses and quirky shopfronts and a lovely wooden church by the river. A bit like a film set.Everything was shut, unfortunately, except the liquor store and the pub. The pub was far from busy – just two of our group playing pool! No wine in the pub, so Michele and Pat went back to the liquor store and I walked back to the campsite along the grassy path… noticed the mosquitoes were particularly ferocious and the Deet didn’t appear to be touching them. As I got into my sleeping bag in the tent, I felt my legs stinging, around the ankle area, but it was too dark to look.

Next morning, in the shower, I was horrified to see huge blood-encrusted welts encircling one leg and the other leg fairly similar, just above sock level. That same morning, Linda found a tick in her tent, and slowly, it has emerged that others also had similar experiences. So we are pretty convinced we were bitten by ticks. I’m very glad I had the jabs – expensive but worth it. So I’ve been itching and burning ever since, but three days on, the ankles are still bothersome and inflamed but seem to be healing at last. Pat has similar bites, unfortunately on her neck and ears. Not nice.

We packed up our fairly damp tents and set off on the journey to Prince George stopping at a couple of places on the way. One of the stops, Glacier Gulch, was well worth it: a steep climb up to twin waterfalls – I made it halfway. The second stop, was at Smithers. Possibly a lovely place, but we saw only the through road, a supermarket and the information centre before we were rushed on. This part of the trip is a bit frustrating: we have to be in New York on 21st June, and have a lot of ground to cover. Green Tortoise has provided only one driver till Seattle, so our entire trip from Anchorage to Seattle is planned around his driving and sleeping arrangements. According to our Green Tortoise driver, Sully, this was apparently a financial decision made by Ozbus in order to keep the price down. However, the little extra it would have cost per person would have made such a difference to our trip. We race through the day, get unloaded at shop closing time, are banned from the bus so he can sleep until we set off on a night drive at midnight, 1am – or even 3am. Makes for a disturbed sleep and fairly grouchy co-travellers. And we don’t get to visit many of the interesting places, museums, cultural centres on the way.

We reached the outskirts of Prince George at about 7.30 in the evening, right in the middle of an industrial area, and offloaded outside an aquatic centre which was due to close at 10pm. The bus needed vital checks done so was driven off for a couple of hours and we hitched a lift to a diner on another street. By this time the sky was darkening and forks and flashes of lightening were shooting across the sky. And the rain…! Heavy! We whiled the time away in this diner and outside a garage waiting for a lift back, and finally hit the road to Jasper at 3am. So 7.5 hours in a town where everything of interest had closed (and we never saw the town centre at all) ……and no time at all in Prince Rupert. Something is wrong here.

An air of disappointment is setting in, and in the last day or two the three Australians and one other of the group have made plans to leave us at Seattle and make their own way from there. We started out being 20 travellers: two left in Beijing, as they had planned, and another two in Anchorage in order to travel on to Hawaii. After Seattle, on the last stretch across the northern states to New York, we will be 12. It is evident that people are becoming travel weary and thinking of home. We are now only half ‘living for the day’ as our thoughts turn more and more to our families and friends back home.

I’ve been travelling for three and a half months now, including the month in Australia. I haven’t seen home since the end of February, haven’t seen Victoria for even longer, and am now getting geared up for the last three weeks and looking forward to the plane home to the UK!

Sleep deprivation, mosquitoes and a beautiful town

And I’m talking about Petersburg on Mitkof Island, part way down the Inside Passage. The beautiful town, that is; it was founded by Norwegians and there’s still a very strong culture here. A gem of a town – another place I’d like to spend 3 months of the year in. So far there’s Barry, Australia, Chiang Mai, Busan and Seward, and now Petersburg. That makes 1.5 years. I’ll work it out somehow.

We were rudely awakened at 3.30am by the loudspeaker on the boat, the good ship ‘Matanuska’.. Actually, I was so cold I barely slept, so quite welcomed the opportunity to move around. By the time we groggily disembarked at Petersburg and drove to the wilderness campsite, I was in a foul mood, as any attempt to sleep on the bus was futile: nowhere to lie down, sitting at a table, sliding across every time the bus went round a corner. When we finally arrived at the campsite, which was in a beautiful spot with views to heavily wooded islands and snow-capped mountains beyond, it was difficult to get enthusiastic due to total zombie-ism. I managed to stumble off with about 5 others, leaving the rest fast asleep on the bus. Getting the tent up was a pain, as the entire area seemed to have concrete foundations, but a few bent pegs later, and with help from Jonny, I finally nailed the base of the tent to the ground – in among tall grasses, sending swarms of mosquitoes sky high in the attempt. By 6.30 I was stretched out in the best tent in the world, and fast asleep shortly after. Then the sounds of breakfast being assembled woke me up 2 hours later. After some food, I had a little walk on the beach, gathered my thoughts and some speckly stones.

Surrounded by such beauty – the photos don’t do the place justice – my mood lightened and I felt ready for the next experience. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Up and out. On the bus again and off to Petersburg for a few hours. I am very aware that I’m not twenty any more, and some deprivations, especially sleep, certainly matter now. But that said, we humans are very resilient, and given enough coffee can stay awake for hours. If I’m rambling, then that’s the result of sleep deprivation, a well known torture. Whatever.

Petersburg is a gorgeous, genuine, untouristy sort of place. Where men are men and the seafood is fresh. The houses are of wood, painted beautiful pastel colours – and I want one. People are courteous, cars stop for you (as elsewhere in Alaska) and direct you happily to places where you can get free wifi. We found the Coastal Cold Storage, where fresh catches are – yes – put in cold storage ready for freezing or canning. They also cook and serve you with the freshest, tastiest morsels. The prawns are out of this world. So that was where I whiled away a few hours, plugged into their socket and using their wifi. And tomorrow I may do the same.

The shops stock arts and crafts made by locals as well as stuff from farther afield. The local crafts have quite inspired me – particularly in ‘Wild Celery’ – and I’ve made my usual collection of leaflets with website info. I also bought a bag of local beach glass, collected from the shores on this island by schoolchildren. A bargain! And it saves me bending. The beaches around our campsite are littered with tree trunks and branches, bleaching and nicely aging in the Alaskan weather. Driftwood of the best quality. I suggested taking a tree trunk along to New York on the roof of the bus, as I’d love to make a totem depicting this journey of ours. But I’ll have to make do with something made in Wales. The tree, that is. I’ve been collecting pins throughout Alaska, and they will be permanent reminders of this stage of the journey.

An ancient mariner called Neil got on our bus for a chat in the car park in Petersburg, and had a good read of the Green Tortoise brochure. He sails – or motors – commercially across the Pacific and is off to Hawaii soon. A nice life. He was amused that we were heading for New York. He says there are only two things worth going there for: publishing companies and jazz. I’m glad I’m going!

On the way back from town, we witnessed a phenomenon: a rainbow halo around the sun. Strange and beautiful. Pollution from our planet… but lovely. Now we’re back at the campsite, sitting around the campfire, with some eating their own food (me among them) and others cooking up Michele’s recipe for Thai chicken curry. Right next to my tent. Hopefully it’ll keep the mozzies away… but will it attract bears? I’m closing for now, need food then I’m retiring early to my tented palace to read the latest thriller on my Kindle. And outside, Andy has been strumming his guitar and Sully is now murdering it. Killing us softly with his song. Night night.

Interlude…..

It is now morning – the 4th June, I think. A Saturday. Back in town (Petersburg) and about to tuck into a good breakfast at the Coastal Cold Storage again. And plug in my laptop and get wifi. It rained in the night and although my tent stayed snug and warm, I did have to brave the wet to get to the toilet shack in the early hours. With my tent bag fetchingly over my head I swatted off the mosquitoes who apparently don’t go to bed, even in the rain. They are huge in this part of the world, but do not scream like the ones I’m used to. So you don’t hear them coming. I have tried to reason with them, tried to develop a symbiotic relationship with them where they don’t bite and I don’t swat. But they let me down, nasty little ****s**B***tr*****.

It was still raining at get-up time, and probably will all day, so plans have changed. I got myself and belongings into the bus, had a cup of tea, then braved it again outside to pack up the sodden tent and stow it in the hold. This is real camping, this is. Not the same without rain! We have abandoned our lovely wilderness site, now enveloped in low cloud, and are spending the rest of the day exploring the delights of Petersburg.

I went for a walk down to the harbour – all sorts of interesting things to see: a lovely building proudly flying the Norwegian flag, a viking ship and lots of houses on stilts to cope with the rising tides up little creeks. I’m looking forward to having a last go at the shops and will try not to spend more $$$. I have already sent two boxes home (expect another one, Marilyn, posted from Juneau 2 days ago) and was not really planning on another… but who knows. I tell a lie. I’m already planning to send home my sleeping bag and tent from New York. Unless excess baggage on Aer Lingus is peanuts.

We are off to the ferry at 5.15 this afternoon. Linda and I have booked a cabin, so will have proper beds and an ensuite shower instead of sitting up all night. I reckon we deserve it after
getting soaked packing up our tents. Well, my smoked salmon, egg and cheese muffin has arrived, along with a huge latte, so I’m signing off for today. Prince Rupert is next, then we’re off overland through Canada – and with any luck will see Dave!

Postscript…


I’ve included a couple of photos as we sailed out of Petersburg on the “Taku”, heading for Prince Rupert. As we left the harbour, we had to navigate between what must be the narrowest channel a boat this size can go through. As you can see from the photo, there are so many buoys, very close together, and we zig-zagged our way through. Clever!

Juneau, Bears and the Paradise Bakery!


We docked at Auke Bay, then drove the Green Tortoise bus into the centre of Juneau, about 12 miles away to the south. All around here, the mountains on the mainland fall down right into the sea, with the exception of this little strip of land which stretches for about 40 miles along the coast, and is no more than a few miles wide at some places. Interestingly, the end of the road, at Echo Cove in the northwest, is actually called: End of Road. Juneau itself is flat only for a couple of hundred metres at the very edge of the water, rising steeply up towards the forests which cover the lower parts of the mountains. On the other side of the Gastineau Channel is Douglas Island, connected to the mainland by a bridge.

The little town/city? which is the capital of Alaska (pop. 31,000) was completely dwarfed by four massive cruise ships, moored right in the town centre. One of them turned out to be Diamond Princess, as we discovered that evening when it did a two-point turn in the bay and set off southwards. By that time, we were sitting in a blue-painted building on stilts, at The Hangar, a great restaurant overlooking the water, the boats, the float planes and Douglas Island on the other side of the water. Lovely. I ordered a Propellor Lasagne which was all seafood: crab, scallops, prawns, salmon. Delicious. Alaska is definitely the place to come if you like fish and seafood. After this, nothing will ever taste as good again…

Our hostel, the Juneau International Hostel, was the only one in town. And it had rules. Which met with revolt from some of our group. The upshot was the rules got broken, or people moved out. We were expected to do chores, which I didn’t object to, being accustomed to this in youth hostels in the past. We were also given a curfew of 11pm, which again I didn’t mind, as I was usually shattered by that time. Then we were kicked out at 9am and not allowed back till 5pm. This wasn’t too bad, but would have been a serious problem if we’d had bad weather instead of the glorious sun we’ve had since Anchorage. Personally, I loved the hostel, with its great layout, comfy sofas and veranda. It was up a steep hill, right on the edge of the forest, but taxis were abundant. A lovely place to stay, really. Talking of forest, bears were sighted going through the rubbish bins at the hostel in the early hours. So not a good place to go for a walk at night.

So what did I do to while away the time? Well, a few of us went to Mendenhall Glacier which was so interesting and beautiful. It’s a receding glacier, which means it doesn’t flow into the sea, but a lake has developed at the foot of it, and water is flowing out from under the ice of the glacier. This causes the jagged front edges of the glacier to split off, calving, and fall into the lake where they either run aground and eventually melt or float away as icebergs. There’s also a raging waterfall from another mountain emptying itself into the lake. Pat collected some interesting sparkly stones for me from the water’s edge and also met a man who told her that he and his son collected garnets from the shore. She gave me one so I’ll set it in silver perhaps.


We caught a bus back to Juneau after a while and spent the rest of the day in the Alaska Museum which was fascinating. A well put-together history of the region with lots of artifacts and displays and even a workspace for people to make their own animal masks. I particularly loved the Native Alaskan section, with totems, displays and films. After this bit of culture we discovered a good place to eat: the Paradise Bakery is the place to go – great home cooked food, delicious. We actually went there twice the following day.

Another high spot for me was getting my laptop sorted by the whizzkid manager of the hostel. He did something to the settings and now I can get wifi! For the first time since Tallinn in Estonia. I’m hoping it’ll still work elsewhere and not just in his hostel.

Juneau is a very attractive place, with access from the sea only from the south along the Gastineau Channel which narrows dramatically after Juneau, so you don’t get through traffic. The cruise ships tend to dwarf the bay, but provide necessary economic support to keep the place going. There are lots and lots of shops near the water selling the usual tacky tourist souvenirs, but in amongst them, you can find some real treasures. The post office on Franklin Street (yes! I sent another parcel home!) sells lots of work done by local artists, beautiful watercolours and crafted items. And out on the street, just opposite the library, Linda and I bought beautiful flowing tie-dye hippy dresses from a man from Tonga.

So here we are now, 10.30pm on Thursday 2nd June. We’ve said goodbye to Juneau and are on the ferry to Petersburg, originally a Norwegian settlement, somewhere farther down the Inside Passage. I’m in a recliner chair with my inner fleece sleeping bag and my pillow at the ready, and hope to get a couple of hours’ sleep before we arrive in Petersburg at 4am. Then we sleep a bit on the bus while Sully drives us to our wilderness campsite. No showers, no facilities apart from drop toilets. Just woods and bears. Certainly no wifi, so don’t know when I’ll manage to post this!

It’s now getting dark outside, but we have witnessed a brilliant sunset over the mountains – just when our sister ferry passed us going in the opposite direction (look closely!) – and when I get home I’ll add photos to this blog. Some of the Ozbus group are already asleep – some of them on the floor where they can stretch out. So I’m signing off now and crawling into my sleeping bag. And letting the hum and throb of the ship’s engines lull me into dreamland. Night night.

Heavenly Haines….

We arrived in Haines late afternoon, evening and after setting up tents I went with Linda and Pat to the Helsingland Hotel, which owns the campsite, to have a meal in their posh restaurant. A wonderful piece of King Salmon, fresh as fresh and pale in colour. The most delicious fish since Anchorage. You mustn’t think I only have food on my mind, it’s just it was SO good I have to mention it.

The hotel used to be the officers’ quarters when the army was based here at Fort Seward. There’s a large grassy parade ground surrounded by lovely pristine buildings with porticos and steps and verandas. In the past they housed the officers and men at the fort, but that was a long time ago and after World War 2 all the buildings were falling into disrepair after the departure of the army. About eight local soldiers bought up the whole complex and endeavoured to restore it in a sympathetic manner – and they were really successful as it’s a beautiful area now.


With two nights’ camping but only one full day in Haines, we had to decide what to do the following day. We contacted Fly Drake and arranged two plane loads. This has to be one of the main highlights of my trip so far. The flight lasted an hour and took us close alongside mountains with goats clinging precariously, alongside avalanches breaking away from the mountainsides, but also between peaks, ducking and diving to avoid turbulence.

One moment I will never forget – thanks to Caroline sitting behind me who took a photo: I was up front with the pilot, fiddling with my headset as I couldn’t hear what he was saying (his commentary). So he took his hands off the controls, turned sideways in his seat and started fixing my headset. Meanwhile I (and the others behind me) were staring straight ahead at the solid whiteness of a mountain looming up in front… then the plane started to slide away to the right, just slightly…and then the pilot turned back, took the controls again and got us out of harm’s way. It was close.

Apart from that, the most memorable bits were when we flew over extensive icefields, from their beginnings high among the peaks, where the snow was pure white, untrodden and heavenly, to the glaciers themselves which meandered downwards, dragging debris along with them until they took on the typical view of glaciers with telltale stripes of scraped mountainside at their edges, and running down the centre when two glaciers met at a fork and merged together. Every now and then we would spot a vivid blue, green or aqua lake nestled between steep slopes. We followed several glaciers down to the point where they entered the sea – even spotting a bear in the distance on an isolated beach. We were so lucky to have clear cloudless skies; I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like if there’d been cloud or rain. Another spectacular sight was the glacier we followed down to the sea. You could clearly see the jagged rips in the surface as it manoeuvred round the mountains, with these crevasses widening and taking on a ‘blueness’ as they approached the waters of Glacier Bay. And then to see the edges, how they broke away, calving into the sea. Magic.

Altogether an awesome experience. I was so disappointed when we came in to land – could have stayed up there for hours.

And the rest of Haines? A nice little place, friendly people and good coffee! I met a woman running a shop selling arts and crafts made locally – and found she’d been to Cardiff. Her husband is/was a policeman, and when they arrived in Cardiff they were treated royally and given a tour of the police station! Such a small world…..
We had the coffee in a cute little cafe which sold all sorts – I bought a couple of metal Christmas tree decorations – a whale and a moose.. also cute. It’s a nice town, very liveable in, rather like a smaller version of Seward. It was very quiet when we strolled around, not quite the season yet. But when the boats start coming in, then it takes off.

So far, since leaving home, I have dyed my hair in Australia, a hotel at Heathrow, another hotel in China – and now in a campsite washroom in Alaska. I sat there, on a wooden bench, reading a book, with orange foam running down my face and mosquitoes flying around my head. And a load of quarters to shower it all off. Quite successful really.

The day we packed up and left was another stunning day, warm and bright. We checked in at the ferry but had an hour or so before boarding, so Michele suggested we have a picnic breakfast at Lake Chilkoot. Just a few miles from Haines, almost hidden down a little road with dense forests on either side. The lake proved to be a gorgeous place – water like a sheet of glass, mirroring the mountains and trees. Just beautiful, and peaceful, and I’ve never seen so many bald eagles all at once! I stopped counting after a while and just took photos. A very serene place, nice to wander off and have a quiet moment before the hustle of the bus again. After quickly packing up, we shot back to the ferry terminal for our boat to Juneau, the first part of our Inside Passage journey south.

This was only a short journey, but such a pretty one. It’s quite different being on a smaller boat – we were on the ‘Malaspina’; you really get the feel of being almost invisible, passing down this narrow stretch of water between mountains which just fall into the sea at their base.

No room for towns or even villages; no land to build on, no roads… just birds flying overhead, whales and dolphins going about their business. I was always too slow to capture them on camera, but have the pictures in my mind.

The boat itself was quite a contrast to the cruise ship – this was not a luxury journey at all, but comfortable enough. The restaurant was fine, food average but adequate, and the seats were comfy to sit in. Sleeping in them might be another matter though!

After a few hours, we went below to board the bus, and disembarked at the ferry port. Nearly in Juneau!

Dancing girls in Dawson! Whitehorse and the mountains…

From the Top of the World road we began the long winding descent, catching sight occasionally of the Yukon river snaking far below. We eventually reached the river itself, but not on the Dawson City side, so took a ferry across in the blazing sunshine.


We’re here till midnight, after which we do the night ride, with Sully driving (sleeping in the bus at the moment) and the rest of us, 17, sleeping like sardines on the bus. Should be fun! We’re going to Diamond Tooth Gertie’s tonight at about 8.30. Well, most of us are. She was a local Madame, ran a house of joy, I believe.

It’s now a casino and they do can-can dancing and all the other stuff you would expect from a frontier town like this. They also serve food there, and of course drink. I’m on the wagon afer seeing a pharmacist in Anchorage who recommended pain killers but warned that with my medication for other conditions, I must lay off the alcohol. So, knees come first and I’m the teetotaller on the trip. The only one. Apart from Andy, 19, who was forced on the ship and in Alaska to give up drink as it’s not allowed till 21. We’ll be a merry bunch when we board the bus at midnight!

I’m sitting in a great cafe (Pat knows which one!), ice cold Coke and access to their computers. It’s hot, hot, hot…. Going to get another cold drink as the heat is getting to me. By the way, did I mention it never gets dark here? On the ship we were disorientated by the absolute darkness of being in an inside cabin. Now we have no darkness, wake at 1.30am to light you can read by. Crazy. My sleep patterns are awry.

INTERLUDE…….

By the way, I posted a parcel home from Seward, Alaska on 20th May and one of the others who did the same has just found out that hers has reached home already. We were told it would take 41 days…! So Marilyn, if you’re reading this, I addressed it to you at No. 31 and if you’re not at home when the postman knocks, it’ll have to be picked up from the post office. Sorry! I expected to be home by the time it arrived! Victoria – can you phone or text Marilyn in case she doesn’t see this post? Ben, can you contact Victoria in case she doesn’t look either? Have I covered all bases now?! I addressed it to Marilyn as the post office in Seward had problems with me putting my name as both addressee and sender… I also gave the address of Leeza next door in case of non-delivery. Have I made it complicated enough?

BACK TO DAWSON….

Well, we’ve now left this northern city, so here’s an update:
After the TastyByte Internet Cafe (where Pat shamelessly posed for a photo with the Tasty Proprietor) we walked around the city (!) which didn’t take too long, before finding a saloon and getting cool drinks. Not a big place, Dawson, but oh so important. It sits snugly in an almost right-angled bend in the river – so plenty of frontage there for boats in times gone by. A bit of history now:

The version I like best is that Mrs Carmack, a First Nation lady, was doing her non-First Nation husband George’s washing in Rabbit Creek, later renamed Bonanza Creek, when she came across a nugget. The claim, however, was registered in George’s name and together with his friends Dawson Charlie and Skookum Jim (one of them was Mrs Carmack’s brother), they set to work getting as much gold out as they could. That was 1896, and it launched the great Klondike Gold Rush. It took a while for word to get out, and for people from all over the world to sell up and make their way to the Yukon in the hope of finding gold, but by 1898 there was a dramatic influx of people to the area, with Dawson City as its new heart.

Around 30,000 pick-and-shovel miners, prospectors, storekeepers, saloon keepers, bankers, gamblers, prostitutes and con men descended on the city to try their luck. So the city grew rapidly: theatres, hotels, brothels, bars, gambling dens – you name it, Dawson City had it all. And still does, almost. Bombay Peggy’s one-time brothel is now a pub and hotel; very tastefully restored to its original splendour. There’s a great museum and lots of hotels, bars, photo parlours, a mortuary (facade only – not enough business now), jewellers, gold shops. And a beautiful river frontage with a paddle steamer!

Everywhere you look, there are beautiful restored buildings – and a few tumbledown ones as well – and murals on walls, depicting the golden age of Klondike gold. It’s a fabulous place and still attracts tourists who don’t mind getting off the beaten track.

Diamond Tooth Gertie, so-named because she wedged a diamond between her two front teeth to make her stand out from the other Ladies of the Night, came here to make her fortune, and did. The building now houses a casino with can-can dancers who put on three shows each evening. We watched two of them but missed the third – the most risque apparently – because by that time we were aboard the bus for the overnight run to Whitehorse.

A couple of the guys had headed to the Jack London bar to test the famed Sour Toe Cocktail. Absolutely gross. It purports to be the toe of a miner which dropped off due to gangrene after severe frostbite. You place it in a glass topped up with rum and drink it. Apparently as it hits your lips it has the consistency of an olive; I’ve seen the photos and it looks horrendous, black with a manky, ragged, yellowed old nail. It may not be the original as the story goes someone swallowed that. So where did they get a second gangrenous, frostbitten old toe??

The bus ride from Dawson City to Whitehorse was interesting: 17 of us spread out on the cushion slabs which covered the bus from side to side, and with some people in overhead bunks usually filled with our bags. It was actually very comfortable and you soon get used to the roll of the bus. I was just behind Sully, our driver, and tended to drift off to sleep and wake when his music changed or when he made a comment. So that’s how I was the only one to see the moose with two babies cross the road in front of us. A lovely sight!

We parked up at the visitors’ centre in Whitehorse and after a spot of breakfast with Pat and Linda, I went off to explore for a few hours. The best part was the McBride Museum of Alaska. Lots of great exhibits and a very interesting film about the area, the goldmining, the First Nation people and their culture. One of the best museums I’ve ever seen.
I am so interested in the people who have lived for thousands of years in this part of the world, from the Aleuts in the west to those who spread across Canada and down to what is now the USA. That’ll keep me busy when I get home, just surfing the internet for more info! In the meantime I have handfuls of brochures, pictures etc to send home. I’ve forgotten how to travel light!

Our bus ended up in a garage getting the aircon sorted – essential in the current heat – so we left Whitehorse later than expected. Some of us used the time back at the visitors’ centre to plug our phones, camera batteries and laptops into any socket we could find. Then we were off, just a short distance to Takhini Hot Springs where we set up camp for the night. And played Arsehole. A game of cards, for those who are uninitiated. I love my tent – a great way of getting a bit of privacy for the night, and getting fresh-air-filled sleep! Linda has also bought one – a tad smaller than mine. How I envy her on her knees!


The next morning we drove across to Haines Junction – so small we almost missed it, then down through the Kluane National Park Reserve. One of the stunning journeys of this trip!
We stopped for a picnic lunch at Kathleen Lake which was just beautiful, with green-aqua coloured water topped with ice and surrounded by snowy mountains. Lots of mosquitoes though. And we had to take care of food remains on account of the bears. I gathered a few more stones and took lots of photos.

Shortly after we found the Million Dollar Falls which thundered down a narrow ravine. A magnificent area.

Our last stop before Haines was on the top of the Alaska Highway/Haines Highway where we crossed over from the Yukon Territory to British Columbia and had a photo shoot at 1,070 feet.

Michele, our Ozbus leader, carved the name of our trip into the snow – OZBUS L2NY – for all passing traffic to see. Then we descended into Alaska again, another border post, and finally into Haines, at the top end of the Inside Passage. A great little place, with sailing boats, fishing boats and a ferry which runs daily in the summer months. But in winter, fairly cut off and isolated, with the sea freezing at the shore line and beyond. We got the best of it, arriving in brilliant sunshine and warmth, which made our campsite in amongst the shady trees a welcome sight.

North Pole, Chicken and the Top of the World

To go from the sublime of peaceful Chena Springs to the ridiculous, we stopped at The North Pole. Mmmm. A guy called Con (!) Miller who had already developed a reputation for playing Santa Claus to the Native children in Alaskan villages, moved his store from Fairbanks and renamed it Santa Claus House – at North Pole. A few other businesses sprang up on the back of this one – restaurants, shops, B&Bs. It hasn’t quite taken off as a global Christmas destination – but is worth a stop for photos.

From here we drove through Tok and then up to Chicken, the last bit on the Taylor Highway, which closes in winter. After seeing the banks of snow that had been cut through to free the road after the winter, I’m not surprised. About 4 foot deep at the side of the road, compacted like a glacier. And then there were the burnt out trees – a desolate landscape in parts. A huge area of Alaska was hit by fires, so mile after mile, we saw these bizarre, sad shapes. Apparently, the people of Chicken spend only the summer months there, then return to Fairbanks for a more habitable – but almost completely dark – winter. And when in Fairbanks, you have to keep yourself really busy through the long dark winter, otherwise depression gets you. One girl I spoke to works with dog-sled teams, others – mainly artists and craftspeople – work at their craft right through the winter, then sell their stuff in the summer. Some fabulous jewellery and paintings in this part of the world.

Chicken is a great little place! Downtown Chicken consists of four shops – the Mercantile Emporium, the Saloon, the Liquor Store and the Cafe – and two campsites. Right bang in the middle of the notorious Klondike area. We were on the Chicken Outpost site, with a lovely shop and another tiny cafe (where they let me plug in my hair straighteners).

If anyone wants to camp in Chicken, I can recommend it – great toilets, albeit drop, and good showers. We got a nice spot to camp the bus and pitch the tents – 9 of them. With the aid of a large water canister and a small plastic stool I bought, I managed to get myself off the ground this morning, in spite of knees, and haul myself up. So the tent will get posted home and I will continue to camp in the UK when I get back. Lovely! I had a wonderful night’s sleep in my little hideaway, and it was lovely and cool, while I stayed cosy in my -15C sleeping bag. Tonight we’re all sleeping in the bus as it hurtles towards Whitehorse, but I’ll be back in my tent when we get there.


So, back to Chicken. It’s so-called because the goldminers who formed a community there wanted to name it Ptarmigan, after the local birds that proliferated there. But nobody could spell it so they named it Chicken instead. However, if you look at the map, you see there’s another town north of here called Eagle, so I wonder if this is just a smaller place and named accordingly. We had some good food in the cafe, they made a salad specially for me, and blueberry pie and ice-cream for afters. Heavenly. I cashed in the voucher for a free gift which I printed from the Chicken, Alaska website – and got a purple frisbee. It makes a great container beside my sleeping bag for mobile, glasses etc. The Mercantile Emporium is a sight to behold – full of tacky rubber chickens, T-shirts to fit every occasion, fridge magnets declaring ‘I was laid in Chicken’, and a hundred and one other items which make this a place of great character! I love it!

We were about the first visitors of the season – and they were a bit unprepared for so many of us. But in the summer the place is inundated with people flocking to the area to pan for gold, living in their massive RVs for several months. Big business!

This morning, up early and showered, then breakfasted and took the tent down. The weather is fantastic – 30C here in Dawson (where I’m writing from). We set off after some of the group came back from a gold-dredging tour and spent a few hours covering not so many miles to Dawson. .

The road was superb – not tarmacked, as it would be full of potholes after the severe winters, but brilliantly engineered – as the views were beautiful in all directions. At this point, it is called the Boundary Spur Road, until you leave Alaska behind and it then becomes the Top of the World Highway – a ridge with steep unbarriered drops which I’m actually getting used to.

A very windy, snaking road across the heights, with great views of hills and mountains receding into the distance. At the border we were inspected by the customs officers – they wanted to make sure we were taking no apples into Canada. Pretty little border post which is only open from mid-May to Mid-October, completely cut off by snow the rest of the year. Which means of course, that this wonderful road across the roof of the world is only open for 5 months of the year. We were so fortunate to get the dates right! So, over the border and then we were in Canada – the Yukon – saying goodbye to Alaska until we enter it again farther south on the coast. The photo says Welcome to Alaska – that’s for people going the other way. I’ve included it just to confuse!

Chena Hot Springs

Earlier today we left Denali and headed for Fairbanks and the Alaska University nearby. There’s a great museum there with a film about the Northern Lights and the problems people have living in the dark for such a long period of the year. There’s also a wealth of information about the original Athabascan Indians and other tribes who wandered and settle in the area, and of course, the whole history of Russian settlement (Russian America, it was called!) and the eventual sale in 1867 of the land to the US, for the princely sum of $7.2 million.

We did a supermarket shopping stop and I took advantage of this to also visit a hardware shop where I bought a tent! and a stool to help me get from prone to upright. I also bought a pillow and a folding camp chair, so I am now completely prepared for the full camping experience, and to hell with the knees. I am now prepared to ignore them totally. In fact I have to, because having run out of painkillers, I tried to get something with codeine in at the pharmacist’s and was informed they will not sell codeine across the counter. I finally bought some tablets which I was assured would not interfere with my other medication – as long as I only took one a day. I’ve just found out it’s Paracetamol – and one tablet doesn’t even touch the sides. So it’s now mind over matter, ignore the pain, massage it away and visualise warm pink fuzzies. It works.

I am now sitting here in a beautiful spot at Chena Springs, partly enjoying the peace, the sound of the stream just behind the bus, the glow in the sky as the sun sink behind the hills – clear and fresh after a short rainy squall. The other part of me is steeped in disappointment as there is only one pool open and the water is 46C. So I haven’t had a go. After managing up to my knees only in the hottest pool in Australia recently, and that was about 42/43 I know it’s not an option here. A much younger member of the group has just told me it’s no worse than a very hot bath… but he’s 30+ years my junior and can maybe stand it – I know I can’t!

Sitting here at a picnic table, surrounded by outsize mosquitoes and little moths, I can hear the voices of some of the group inside the bus, Jonny’s distinctive laugh, the noise of the stream, a strange piping noise from a bird nearby – and apart from that, nothing. Some people have put up their tents, and moved mattresses out of the bus to sleep on.

Behind me is a little parking area where people have left their pickups, cars, a motorbike – and a little two-seater plane. Parked neatly in the row with other vehicles. Cute. The landscape has changed since Denali, the hill are high, but gentle. They are covered in spruce – and I can now recognise where they are affected by permafrost, and where not. There are also silver birch trees, looking light and airy next to the darker firs.

Tomorrow we have a long day of driving – to Chicken. I found out where it got its name: apparently some miners (gold – this part of the country was swarming with them) decided to give their settlement a name and as the town was inundated by ptarmigans, they decided to name it after them. But no one could agree on the spelling, so the town was named Chicken instead. Another nice story!

Denali National Park

23rd/24th May

A great journey from Anchorage to here – with some stunning views of Mount McKinley, the highest mountain in North America at just over 20,000 feet. Apparently it is usually covered in cloud and some people have never seen it even after several attempts. And we saw it first time, and many times from many angles. The photo above was taken from the south.

The campsite is outside the park boundaries, with no vehicles allowed in beyond a certain point; we camped at the Rainbow MV site, on gravel and loose sandy soil. Not easy for those trying to put up tents, but OK for those of us who elected to sleep on the bus. Which was fun and very cosy. My -15C sleeping bag was too warm, so I opened the feet part to cool down. Later in the night I became aware of how freezing it was, but I was snug! We are in one of the lands of the midnight sun, so it’s difficult to get to sleep. I fell asleep with my hat over my face – and woke up at about 1.30a.m. to an incredibly mid-blue sky – never seen a colour like it! With most people sleeping out in tents, the bus was fairly roomy. And as we were introduced to the enormous Alaskan Mozzies, it was pretty good to stay inside until the insect wipes could be located in a bag somewhere. A Mosquito headnet helps though!

Linda and I had an early start (missing our first bus breakfast) – a tundra wilderness tour to a river in the mid-section of the park, which covers 6 million square miles. Big. Our guide was a woman called Annette who drove and instructed us – and she was fantastic. We were able only to rattle over the mountains and valleys as far as the Toklat River. The reason for this was that many animals were breeding and the park has very strict rules about the park being there for animals, not humans. So they have to be left in peace. Later in the season, the rest of the road is opened, as far as Wonder Lake and Kantishna. Worth coming back again to see all that, and maybe spend a few days camping at the end of the road.

The journey was pretty hairy in parts, just a gravelled road with no barriers, and as some of the journey was on hairpin bends with steep scree drops to the valley below, it was a bit of a challenge for me. I think I may be desensitising during this trip – may come home vertigo-less! From the gravel road we drove on, high above the glacier-swept valley, we could clearly see how braided river beds came about, and how huge boulders, dislodged from mountain sides by the glacier, could end up stranded in the middle of a flattened landscape.

Annette stopped along the way, slithering to a halt whenever anyone shouted ‘bear at 3 o’clock’ or similar. She was a fountain of knowledge on everything from the park and its development to geology and glaciers in particular. Thanks to her, I now know the difference between Tundra and Taiga – and how to spot trees damaged by permafrost! She gave us a pretty good history lesson too.


During the trip we saw caribou, moose (as we arrived back at the visitor centre!) five bears, golden eagles, bald eagles, a huge porcupine, Dall sheep (rams) and countless ptarmigans. I was really disappointed not to see any wolves – they are the most ‘private’ of animals, keeping well out of the way of tourists with cameras! Annette gave us valuable tips on how to act if in tricky situations involving bears or moose – the best advice we got while in the area. Most of these animals are unpredictable and can be highly dangerous, especially at this time of the year when they are protecting their young. Not to be messed with.

The main mountain here is Mt McKinley, and it also happens to be the highest in North America. Permanent snowfields cover about 75% of the mountain, and feed the many glaciers which surround its base. The mountain is composed mainly of granite and slate, with the layers of ice on top being hundreds of feet thick in places. It tops all the other mountains in the Alaska Range which divides the south-central area of the country from the interior plateau; the range came about as a result of tectonic plate collision, which apparently is still ongoing today and which adds to Mt McKinley’s height at the rate of about 1mm a year. Now, there’s a story about how it was named. The native Athabascans who lived in the interior of Alaska called it Denali, which means something like ‘ the great one’ or similar (it is amazing – a huge white block of a mountain framed by lesser rocky mountains).

But with the gold rush in the area and further south in the Klondike, the area was flooded with prospectors from afar, and one of these, I forget his name, staked a claim and built a shack with a view of the mountain. In those days it was called Denali. However, this prospector was impressed with a US politician named McKinley who was intent on bringing in a gold standard rather than a silver one, and of course this went down well with gold prospectors….So when he returned to his roots in the States (now the Lower 48, below Canada) he referred to the mountain as Mt McKinley. And so it became known, much to the anger and bewilderment of the native Alaskans. Over the years, many attempts were made to revert to its original name, but they were all unsuccessful. When the surrounding area was designated a national park it was named Denali to appease the locals, but the mountain remained Mt McKinley. Named after a man who’d never been to Alaska. Another attempt to rename it was unsuccessful when residents of Ohio, McKinley’s home state, managed to persuade the government that McKinley should be respected and the mountain retain his name. The Alaskans’ response was that they should name the highest mountain in Ohio (!) after him and leave Alaska to the Alaskans. Nice story. But indicative of how the wishes of the native Alaskans are seldom listened to.

The following morning, we were introduced to the breakfast routine a la Green Tortoise. Tables are dug out from the innards of the bus and three large containers for dishwashing and another three buckets for washing hands are prepared. In both cases the first container contains soapy water, the second: rinsing water. The third has a diluted bleach mix. This safeguards us from any sort of nasty bugs we could contract while preparing, eating, washing up etc. However, it would have been in keeping if some of the equipment was in better order in the first place. The chopping boards left a lot to be desired. There was no clear distinction between veg boards, meat, or anything else. And they appeared to have been in circulation for months – if not years. It would be no exaggeration to call them manky. All dishes, plates, mugs are plastic and invariably smell bleachy. Maybe no bad thing….We take turns to prepare food, wash up afterwards, and clear away into the hold again. Breakfast is provided throughout the trip, but we generally get our other meals wherever we land up. Unless we make a packed lunch at breakfast time. It all works well, and being an ex-camper, it takes me back! I could do without the soft nails that result from immersion in bleach, however. Thank goodness for hand cream!

Alaska – on dry land again!


Seward! Gorgeous!

First shore visit since Korea – I was so glad to get off the ship and walk on land again! Seward was just lovely. My first object on going on shore was to send a parcel home. Get rid of some of the stuff not needed for the rest of the trip – including my hair straighteners which don’t operate on 120V. That done, I needed a bank and a coffee. Two old guys in the bank told us about the Mt Marathon race: they set off from the bank, run up the mountain and more or less slide down on their bottoms and then back to the bank. I think it’s something like 1300 feet and the current record is 43 minutes. Trivial pursuits, eh!


We spent a couple of hours in the laundromat, which doubles as a great little cafe with bagels and wifi. Interesting people and lots of tips on what we should do and where we should go. We took off after that for the shops on one of the main streets – lovely craft places, lots of artists in this little town. A bit like Barry really, but with a glacier in the mountains behind. We more or less walked back to the ship, farther than it looked, and saw that part of the town with a beach onto Resurrection Bay and small boats in the harbour. Nice place – worth a future visit.

The view as we sailed out of Seward was glorious – more so because the sky was a threatening, dramatic billow of grey and white clouds, and the setting sun shone on the sea and the mountains behind us. We headed for the ocean again and a channel between islands that would take us to Whittier. After about half an hour up on deck, the cold wind got the better of me and sent me scurrying down to get a hot drink.

On Saturday 21st May we finally disembarked at Whittier, said goodbye to the Diamond Princess and the lovely Luis, passed our unused coffee cards on to a couple sailing on to Vancouver, and set foot in Alaska for the second time (old hands at this…). At breakfast, some of us had seen the arrival of the Green Tortoise bus on the dockside, so we knew we weren’t going to be stranded from now on. Sully, our driver, was waiting as we stumbled out into the car park with bags hanging from all over us. He seems a nice guy, just come back from several months in Antarctica where he was working, and now back doing his summer job, driving Green Tortoise buses again. He’s done San Francisco to Alaska before, but never Alaska to New York. So it’s a first for everyone on the bus. We stowed our large bags under in the hold and found places to sit/lie on the bus for the trip to Anchorage. Sandra and Tony leave us there, and have hitched a ride with us.

The drive to Anchorage from Whittier took us through a tunnel also used by trains. Until a few years ago, Whittier could only be reached by train – one single track from Anchorage. Then they built the road – a very scenic route alongside the coast and ringed with mountains. As the railroad had already blasted a narrow tunnel under a mountain near Whittier, it is also used for the road. But it is single lane only so traffic has to queue up for about 30 minutes to go through while it is being used for the opposite direction. And then both sets of traffic stop for a while so trains can use it. A very economical use of resources!


Our home for two nights, the Spenard International Hostel, is lovely, friendly and full of places to sit and lounge and blog and read. What more do you need? Jen, the manager, made several phone calls to try and find out why my laptop (Asus Eee, Linux) is not connecting to local wifi, and unfortunately was unable to find any answers. The routing supplier’s comment was ‘Oh shoot’ when he heard it was Linux. I was then advised to buy something else.


Today we went into Anchorage for the day, saw a great Sunday market and bought bits and pieces in local shops. Needless to say, I bought bits of jewellery, stones, and beads. I feel the need for another box to be sent home.

I had a bit of a deja vu moment. Ben, Victoria and Gordon (if you’re reading this) will recognise part of the story. Well, today, Pat, Linda and Ann and I had a coffee together and went separate ways, planning to meet at 1pm at the Glass Gallery on G Street, and then again at The Snow Goose bar (recommended) at 2pm for lunch. At 1pm, vainly seeking the gallery only to find from locals that it had closed a year ago, I then went straight to the Snow Goose to see if the others had gone on there. It was closed; not due to open till 3pm. No sign of the others. We finally met up by chance about an hour later. This is not the first time this kind of thing has happened. In 1991, Ben, Victoria and I were driving from Vienna in the direction of what had been East Germany in order to meet up with Gordon, who was driving from the Hamburg area. On the phone we arranged to meet at Rathen, a small town on the Elbe river and, as every German town has a church, we arranged to meet there at 3pm on a certain date. Well, we got there and discovered that Rathen was the only German town without a church. Or maybe it was in the other half of the town across the river, reached only by a ferry, for which there was long queue. Luckily the kids happened to see their dad strolling by (not looking in our direction!) having at least ended up on the same side of the river as us.

Anyway, back to Alaska…. while I’d been lost in Anchorage! I’d bumped into a few of the others having a late lunch in a restaurant. They’d been to the tourist information place and were planning to go to a husky sled dog show that evening, so I joined them. There’s a race run in Alaska each year – the Iditarod – and it covers a huge distance – about 1000km or miles – I’ll have to check on that. When they’re not in training, they open their doors to the public so we can see how the dogs (and drivers!) – are trained and looked after. Beautiful dogs! Amazing eyes….. We learnt all about the special talents of the lead dog, and of the dogs who are positioned right at the back and act as brakes – imagine going down a steep hill – they have to pace themselves to make sure the dogs and sled don’t end up in a heap at the bottom. Clever animals.

After the show, we got a lift back to downtown Anchorage and finally got to sit on the deck with a drink at the Snow Goose. Still couldn’t see Mt McKinley though, as it was too cloudy. A nice end to the day. Then a taxi back to the hostel.

Tomorrow we leave the shelter of our hostel for the great outdoors: eight nights camping or sleeping on the bus. Should be fun! At least there are only 17 of us, and Sully makes 18. We will be at Denali National Park, then Chena Hot Springs (!) and Chicken(!!) before crossing the border to Dawson and Whitehorse in Canada. Then more hot springs at Takhini before crossing back to the USA at Haines and taking a ferry to Juneau. Then we have the luxury of a hostel again and maybe a chance to get online again. Who knows!