tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59584923950784521892024-03-13T13:43:56.480+10:00Big Adventures on a Tiny Budgetfrom Nikki and Housesitting in AustraliaNikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-68242015747825979932018-02-23T14:13:00.003+10:002018-02-23T14:13:59.868+10:00Twisted House Cats <div class="MsoNormal">
There is a reason that cats are so popular online. </div>
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They can
be crazy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This is a picture of our cat “relaxing”.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOB9DcCnNlzwFHsB0AFN7ONzaHoFr27wjzKfFMPK3suqy0bO3obfoPfwgJBTfEfpTMyTOE6FVC5dV84F4vYXzWR-IeXoa9cWsRKaJzCbJqVymbfj35JzXvPAsk4yEDGSnUh3SyPdf5lE/s1600/20180205_154441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Traingle Cat" border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGOB9DcCnNlzwFHsB0AFN7ONzaHoFr27wjzKfFMPK3suqy0bO3obfoPfwgJBTfEfpTMyTOE6FVC5dV84F4vYXzWR-IeXoa9cWsRKaJzCbJqVymbfj35JzXvPAsk4yEDGSnUh3SyPdf5lE/s320/20180205_154441.jpg" title="Triangle Cat" width="320" /></a></div>
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He is adorable and one of the reasons I stopped house
sitting. I wanted my own pets.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I had some weird and wonderful experiences with pets, but I
missed having my own. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My husband and I have four pets; fat cat, an anxious border
collie, and two heritage chickens. At various times, we also have a visiting
bush turkey, a goanna, koalas, and a snake. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This picture is a snake hiding in our garage after a huge
meal. You may be able to see the huge bulge in his middle. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UvZEBnIGCZBNWblSzCOxb5b8S57nJc1BvJLnCS8C3bwPMRqjaQRlyfWBjgJthR4lvrR-n4mUEXPwGueoEEQKF3qNvSVJY6sMmVfgpwVLPHLQqrSLHBKgEcMwVp9Dtgy_JYV5Z2NOx5A/s1600/20180102_165321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Satisfied Snake" border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UvZEBnIGCZBNWblSzCOxb5b8S57nJc1BvJLnCS8C3bwPMRqjaQRlyfWBjgJthR4lvrR-n4mUEXPwGueoEEQKF3qNvSVJY6sMmVfgpwVLPHLQqrSLHBKgEcMwVp9Dtgy_JYV5Z2NOx5A/s320/20180102_165321.jpg" title="Satisfied Snake" width="320" /></a></div>
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At least this time
he didn’t <a href="http://travellerinoz.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/a-snake-in-my-living-room.html" target="_blank">come into the house</a> ... or live in the ceiling like he did at one home I
stayed at.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Pets (at least the furry kind) are good for our health, and if
you don’t have your own, house sitting is a great way to have some pet cuddles
with a variety of interesting pets.<o:p></o:p></div>
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During my time house sitting, I looked after two elegant
Siamese cats, a cat that could not climb, a three-legged cat, and two cats that
would not stay in the same room together.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The dogs were fun too. There was a drooling dog, a nervous
dog, three mismatched dogs, and a little dog that bit my finger and cleared out
the dog park with her attitude (not backed up with anything by the way).</div>
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If you are considering house sitting, meeting new and
interesting pets is just one of the many benefits. </div>
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To learn more about house sitting, along with fun house sitting stories and tales of my adventures around Australia, go to www.nikkiahwong.com or see the link above right to buy one of my books.<br />
<br />Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-42497687514820986702017-12-15T15:09:00.001+10:002017-12-15T15:09:25.072+10:00The Echidna in my Street<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilF9glIooo2mGq9AIdf_htJipxYoNlOVJEDAoia1yTpVf-TDV5obMnAFuekBImKu13D2DWVZSq5o5JOgvWJMdaM7bwS8qdmgCW8XeGzd2nE8W7oSqFfAPLopSBzx4YJaHsOLfOlbcYt9Y/s1600/Echidna+in+my+Street.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="179" data-original-width="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilF9glIooo2mGq9AIdf_htJipxYoNlOVJEDAoia1yTpVf-TDV5obMnAFuekBImKu13D2DWVZSq5o5JOgvWJMdaM7bwS8qdmgCW8XeGzd2nE8W7oSqFfAPLopSBzx4YJaHsOLfOlbcYt9Y/s1600/Echidna+in+my+Street.PNG" /></a></div>
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As some of you may remember, I have had numerous encounters
with Australian wildlife. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">A snake visited my living room - to watch TV with
me</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">A frog moved in upstairs (also spiders, ants,
geckos)</span></li>
<li>A giant hare attempted to decimate my garden</li>
<li>I discovered stained glass window bugs</li>
<li>I rescued a lizard from my pool</li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">I chased a goanna around a tree</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">And I shepherded a kangaroo out the gate when he
became trapped in my fenced garden</span></li>
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Just to mention a few. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But this was the first echidna I have ever seen in the wild. And it was sick.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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It waddled along the road verge, looking hot, and bothered,
and very vulnerable without any cover. It should have been hiding somewhere and,
judging by its size, possibly still in the care of its mother. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It should have looked perky and interested..<o:p></o:p></div>
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Instead it was tired and frail looking. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7n6BFvA3efLueUBuRhmZxb-TB_Qcvze4UWmfcrE3LkYz8ELC1HY0QWf7M4JW6SIJVFhY6hlIBLawNIY9fsAE0faPmwBLZnTJGyxk9QYv08brAU8fA4qqzQHGySvrxWymsrocO4MauVOU/s1600/Echidna+in+our+Street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="170" data-original-width="169" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7n6BFvA3efLueUBuRhmZxb-TB_Qcvze4UWmfcrE3LkYz8ELC1HY0QWf7M4JW6SIJVFhY6hlIBLawNIY9fsAE0faPmwBLZnTJGyxk9QYv08brAU8fA4qqzQHGySvrxWymsrocO4MauVOU/s320/Echidna+in+our+Street.jpg" width="318" /></a></div>
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It is hard to know what to do when a wild animal needs help,
but luckily one of our neighbours is a wildlife carer and I know that because
she helped me once before when there was a snake on the road.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was heading away from the forest and into the garden next
door. When this brave lady happened by, she simply picked it up by its tail and
dragged it back to the safety of the national park land over the road. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj12YzfEVTlzOl0BSiIczYq7tK0asXNksMwsUUhtwvlT1FZ-5RCEPw0xyOtCPBoDJVys7DtcRoGhYNiTHV-LKXxN7IZEJUuKIxOVQS4SDiEIHYdK4r2gCUyYlEt_YgzdBJhvDAAhJz-gIw/s1600/Snake+at+our+house.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="533" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj12YzfEVTlzOl0BSiIczYq7tK0asXNksMwsUUhtwvlT1FZ-5RCEPw0xyOtCPBoDJVys7DtcRoGhYNiTHV-LKXxN7IZEJUuKIxOVQS4SDiEIHYdK4r2gCUyYlEt_YgzdBJhvDAAhJz-gIw/s320/Snake+at+our+house.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I was very impressed. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The year before when I had a snake slither into my house and take up residence in the TV room, it took five people, a
walking stick, and a large plastic recycling bin on wheels to remove it. <u>See
that story here.<o:p></o:p></u></div>
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<u><br /></u></div>
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This brave and kind lady, scooped up the echidna using a cardigan, put it in a
box, and drove it to the veterinarians. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Hopefully, the next time I see this echidna it will be
healthy and happy and will scuttle off into the bush.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-59160540786857982802017-07-29T17:16:00.001+10:002017-07-29T17:19:13.962+10:00Sailing into Trouble<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia5Y9rF2J5Q7uoEuu6llcScMB-ODXRMby7CEPHcgXzv3ktlPI0ALGgMKDfbrp5iOPTA-uFG8wp3bvLzzQKVIE0h8Df38DgLzn5CsBlG36Vh00GAv1yyL0GJX9QwJwv3EEWBlY_nXfwe1I/s1600/Front+Cover+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia5Y9rF2J5Q7uoEuu6llcScMB-ODXRMby7CEPHcgXzv3ktlPI0ALGgMKDfbrp5iOPTA-uFG8wp3bvLzzQKVIE0h8Df38DgLzn5CsBlG36Vh00GAv1yyL0GJX9QwJwv3EEWBlY_nXfwe1I/s200/Front+Cover+9.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I have written a new book. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Yes, I know you might not find that astounding. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">A writer writing a book.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">But this one is different. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I went sailing and it was </span><b style="font-size: 13.5pt;">AMAZING!</b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> So I wrote about it. and called it 'Is the Davit Supposed to Fall Off?'.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The only sailing I had done before this trip, was a short sail out
into the </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">harbor</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> to test the yacht we later bought, and a few hours on a sleek
new club yacht. On that trip, I got to hold the wheel and wind a few ropes,
but mostly spent the time sipping cool drinks and sampling the catered lunch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Sailing on our own forty-foot, 1970’s, ex-fishing yacht was not at
all the same. It was challenging, surprising, sometimes scary, and ultimately
satisfying. We visited parts of New Zealand I have never seen, despite
living there for most of my life. We sailed overnight and through wild seas, then
cruised smoothly past New Zealand’s active offshore volcano. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">It was exciting too. We turned circles in front of a tanker,
almost ran into an island cliff in the dark, and tried to tow another yacht out
to sea with us, making its owner more than a little cross.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">If this sounds like a story you might be interested in, then take
a peek at <a href="https://housesittinginaustralia.blogspot.com.au/p/sailing-into-trouble.html" target="_blank">the sample page</a>, or read this summary from the back cover.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">If a smooth sea never made a skilled
sailor, then Nikki is in luck. The sea is in turmoil, the wind is on the nose,
and the yacht is bouncing around like a bath toy.</span></i><br /><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Nikki and her husband, need to bring their
old yacht from New Zealand to Australia. But first they have to negotiate New
Zealand’s rugged East Coast from Napier to Cape Reinga. It’s a trip designed to
test the most experienced sailor, and Nikki doesn’t know a boom from a jib.</span></i><br /><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Phil has to plot the course, steer the
ship, and trim the sails, while Nikki begins the sailing trip of a lifetime
more bilious than a rabbit on a roller coaster, and more like cargo than
crew. </span></i><br /><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Phil is great at smoothing over problems,
and fixing everything from tangled ropes to broken fan belts, but even
he can’t fix the weather, and a cyclone threatens. Getting to Australia is
looking unlikely when even getting from one town to another is a challenge.</span></i></blockquote>
</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjl2Y72weMPNQI4BOsVZQyeBHYD1UcGZlCWznM9h6WLi2Ayr7eavZ0qljVdTP3fPx6035NV6Isz_0kq8sNCDaazzeojGdOlN_p5u2o9EgmVnG7HMMTtmHDGKDGS5Rlb85rvSHnuJpHwI/s1600/20150212_103826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjl2Y72weMPNQI4BOsVZQyeBHYD1UcGZlCWznM9h6WLi2Ayr7eavZ0qljVdTP3fPx6035NV6Isz_0kq8sNCDaazzeojGdOlN_p5u2o9EgmVnG7HMMTtmHDGKDGS5Rlb85rvSHnuJpHwI/s320/20150212_103826.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">If you are interested in sailing (or just want to read a good
story) jump over to <a href="https://housesittinginaustralia.blogspot.com.au/p/sailing-into-trouble.html" target="_blank">the sample page</a> to see more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">If not, there is more to come. I am working on a novel about a
missing toddler, as well as a memoir tentatively called ‘A Middle-Aged Junk Mail
Princess’. Stay tuned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Happy Travels everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />
To learn more about house sitting, along with fun house sitting stories and tales of my adventures around Australia, go to www.nikkiahwong.com or visit any good online store including Amazon.com.Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-56718569911694225102016-05-04T08:00:00.000+10:002016-05-04T08:00:21.000+10:00Stick to It<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEhpcKW0Fdu9VCsaWkshzUfECHaTC48fB0ixtUsZmNJySY0lrf2aMn25icK_XIoPxWJrhb1w8pxiSzDiDeKGK2YnP8hbgf6nNwQ_aRCc2WiX_a4KldhEtuiKJaMNAigOpUs3HVoTzGFg/s1600/Keyboard+LOVE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEhpcKW0Fdu9VCsaWkshzUfECHaTC48fB0ixtUsZmNJySY0lrf2aMn25icK_XIoPxWJrhb1w8pxiSzDiDeKGK2YnP8hbgf6nNwQ_aRCc2WiX_a4KldhEtuiKJaMNAigOpUs3HVoTzGFg/s1600/Keyboard+LOVE.jpg" /></a>I have a confession to make and an apology. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Some months ago, Kidecals sent me a few samples of their
stickers to try. So I tried them. Said I would review them. Then promptly forgot
about them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Then the other day, I threw away my dilapidated, torn and
grubby looking phone cover and the “contact me” sticker was still there. It
still looked shiny and pretty despite being scratched on, spilled on, wiped,
washed, and glued to something that became worn and grubby. So here is my
review. They are good. Very good.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I remembered I had some keyboard stickers too. I <span lang="EN-US">brought them out and updated my
keyboard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">It made me
smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Tc6eBKX0mtOgb7UUoS3uKNp5Ivylvcsi0QOPrYfpwe1W9NTfF4W6vH6IqSSdxnZTwo8Dg8Ovjrz9ObD5B_YabT5bIHS_ClAyYjlquic3PIZns_x2Nfd2xW5SWMoiDU3_7dqGQfFzwaU/s1600/keyboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Tc6eBKX0mtOgb7UUoS3uKNp5Ivylvcsi0QOPrYfpwe1W9NTfF4W6vH6IqSSdxnZTwo8Dg8Ovjrz9ObD5B_YabT5bIHS_ClAyYjlquic3PIZns_x2Nfd2xW5SWMoiDU3_7dqGQfFzwaU/s320/keyboard.jpg" title="My 'new' keyboard." width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">We need
more smiles and we need more beauty. Whether it is in tiny ways, or huge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Have you
seen a sunset lately? Or studied a babies tiny wrinkled fingers? Or just sat
and watched a cat play? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No matter
what challenges are happening in life, small changes that bring beauty to your
life are uplifting to the soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Today, I
put spent one minute putting stickers on my keyboard and they brought a teeny bit more happiness into my life.</span><span lang="EN-US"> </span>What tiny change can you make?<span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wishing you smiles of your own today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>To learn more about house sitting, go to www.nikkiahwong.com or visit any good online store including Amazon.com.</i>Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-70831323370482648492015-03-27T07:17:00.001+10:002015-03-27T07:17:50.692+10:00Ye Olde Worlde Computer<div class="MsoNormal">
I am writing this on a modern and streamlined Windows
Surface Pro. The keyboard snaps on with such a satisfying click that the ad for
this product includes happy users snapping the keyboard on as background
percussion. It can format a full length novel with page numbers, chapter
headings, and footnotes, and when I am done it can run a speedy game of “Fruit
Ninja” if I want to. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t want to. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I want to do is install my brand new satellite phone so
my husband and I can contact the internet when we are at sea on our yacht next
week. While I will most likely update Facebook and write a few blogs, this
connection is more important than that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With the internet, we can get wind speed predictions, the
height of ocean swells, and should we need it, hurricane warnings. A satellite
connection could be the difference between a gentle sail across the Tasman Sea
between New Zealand and Australia, or a nightmare voyage tossed about by gale
force winds, lost somewhere in the vast emptiness of the Pacific Ocean.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And my new computer won’t help. Apparently the modern
satellite phone, purchased just weeks ago, will not work with Windows 8. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So now the brand new portable combination pad/computer that
was going to do everything, might be relegated to a video player to help us
pass the time. Maybe a bit of reading on the kindle app, or writing on the snazzy
keyboard with the satisfying click.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Luckily we have a six year old computer that can take up the
slack. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOVz1wLsrxt02aVSqBhpDi9rzzDpUkI2p39ubZeae-wuYSkKFZDuc9Cttfd7a818civYg0nK_NLHWPM8rme5lYdlNfUefVhcBX4kF1zPFYINrVvi3Qc4wZD6MIZiU3DE6UfMbCRYH1CA/s1600/laptop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOVz1wLsrxt02aVSqBhpDi9rzzDpUkI2p39ubZeae-wuYSkKFZDuc9Cttfd7a818civYg0nK_NLHWPM8rme5lYdlNfUefVhcBX4kF1zPFYINrVvi3Qc4wZD6MIZiU3DE6UfMbCRYH1CA/s1600/laptop.jpg" height="154" width="320" /></a>It weighs at least four times as much as my new machine and
is slow and clunky, but it has lots more connections around its bulky edge. Seventeen
to be exact. There are pin connectors, and slide out slots, and four USB ports.
I don’t even know what most of them are for.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The new one boasts just one USB port. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The old one plays CD’s and DVD’s all by itself, and has a built
in card reader that used to be so useful for copying photos to the hard drive. It
also has a connection that will connect to the GPS on our boat. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Too bad it won’t run our navigation program. That needs the
same part of my new computer that plays Fruit Ninja or Angry Birds. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, we will have two computer systems running on our boat. One
for navigation and one for internet connection out at sea. One for making sure
we don’t get lost, and one to make sure we know what our chances are of getting
sucked into a whirlwind, or being swamped by a tsunami. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last week, I went to get a car charger for my new computer,
and the fresh faced young tech expert in the store scoffed at my request. “We
don’t carry accessories for that model anymore” he said. It seems our ‘new’
computer is out of date even though we bought it about eight months ago. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wonder what he would make of our old computer. Dark ages
perhaps? I bet he would never guess that it is the one that will connect us to
satellite across the world. Sometimes old really is better.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<i>To learn more about house sitting, along with fun house sitting stories and tales of my adventures around Australia, go to www.nikkiiahwong.com or visit any good online store including Amazon.com.</i>Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-65217887006135771982015-02-01T20:37:00.001+10:002015-02-01T20:37:16.133+10:00One Surprising Benefit of House Sitting<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtBz_EX5VbqbVsdooE5e4aryzvttczOQ6zKXKM1XCubmLjg6mFOnjG0bqcWJeOyHPfei4ddQnNxdJXdD4gYOga4yS-bU2HAEyRewXz_yIUDFhl8VVHJc5BTssKoWD3_WFWlUIrkBsYuE/s1600/shampoo-and-conditioner.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtBz_EX5VbqbVsdooE5e4aryzvttczOQ6zKXKM1XCubmLjg6mFOnjG0bqcWJeOyHPfei4ddQnNxdJXdD4gYOga4yS-bU2HAEyRewXz_yIUDFhl8VVHJc5BTssKoWD3_WFWlUIrkBsYuE/s1600/shampoo-and-conditioner.png" height="200" width="162" /></a>My favorite shampoo reminds me of tropical breezes and eating
coconuts on the beach in Samoa or sipping juice in Malaysia. It is cruelty
free, grey water safe, and comes in a recycled bottle that costs the same as
most budget brands. It not only makes my hair smell faintly of fruit salad, but
it leaves it soft as well as clean.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You might wonder; how did I find this virtuous and useful
product? I found it through house sitting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I first smelled it when a lady I was staying with used it. I
was informed that it was an organic product sold in the small nearby rural township.
After lurking in the local organic produce section for several days in a row, asking
silly questions such as “do you have any shampoo that smells like banana?” and
furtively sniffing all the bottle lids, I finally asked the right person and
found it in the local supermarket. And, to my delight, it was one of the
cheapest brands.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since then I have been introduced to dozens of new products
as a result of staying in other people’s homes. Without delving too much into
people’s personal things, I still learn a lot about them. If their sheets smell
lovely, I might take note of what brand washing powder they use. If their can
opener is easy to use, I might choose to get one when I settle down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I get ideas on room set up, wall decorations, storage ideas,
and bathroom products. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
House sitting is a great way to save money, while doing
something helpful for another home owner. It might also introduce you to
shinier, healthier hair. You never know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-61033780338666231022014-06-06T23:12:00.000+10:002014-06-06T23:12:00.215+10:00Motorbike Taxis; The Good, the Bad, and the Grumpy<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">She was about five years old
and chocolate box cute. She tossed back her hair and angled up her chin as she
checked out her reflection in the mirror of her dad’s motorbike taxi. He smiled
indulgently.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAK6YXECj9vpYhNZtLc8v8XrXQ_r5qsnhU3KutDCUVcC8Lwc23E27jf1BiLapsIdgngnNZgJLOn9kSocssOM46BaNFHLtz1w0jyt1BeXsw1DGvg_8ThDYSqlfFIZ7md-NjxFs-r4D-Z1Q/s1600/IMG_3724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAK6YXECj9vpYhNZtLc8v8XrXQ_r5qsnhU3KutDCUVcC8Lwc23E27jf1BiLapsIdgngnNZgJLOn9kSocssOM46BaNFHLtz1w0jyt1BeXsw1DGvg_8ThDYSqlfFIZ7md-NjxFs-r4D-Z1Q/s1600/IMG_3724.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We were on our way to the small
market town of Donsol in the Philippines, and had flagged them down as they
passed on the road. After agreeing on a modest fare, equivalent to less than an
Australian dollar, Phil got on back and I climbed into the cab with the girl.
She smiled self-consciously as we set off for town.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">“How about we look around town
first?” we asked. “No problem” the driver said and we took a loop around the narrow
streets and past the local homes. Suddenly the little girl called out loudly,
waving excitedly. Is that your house? I asked and was rewarded with another shy
smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We passed her school and
stopped at the shops. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“We will wait for you” the
driver said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">“Oh no” we protested. “We will
be a while.” He seemed disappointed, and for a moment I thought he was going to
wait anyhow, but finally he and his cute little girl left. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We wandered around the town,
looking and feeling like frogs in a fish pond. This far from Manila, we were the
only tourists in town. Phil got a great haircut for the kind of spare change you
find down the back of a couch. I bought a drinking coconut complete with straw,
and a plastic bag of an unidentified meat dinner. Then we decided to go back to
the hotel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2zQ6DxwSRLKj5ywkF0mhWeCTImwBvv0gtCiODJhfH-IdnzlmtTUpnaakgECW9D9zaE36Yzj8v2In1luLs7rjCEPv82gbI3s5JiJDuB6XSo6cqLax4da2izZBa9KrUX9jsZgsU7UO-i9U/s1600/IMG_3735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2zQ6DxwSRLKj5ywkF0mhWeCTImwBvv0gtCiODJhfH-IdnzlmtTUpnaakgECW9D9zaE36Yzj8v2In1luLs7rjCEPv82gbI3s5JiJDuB6XSo6cqLax4da2izZBa9KrUX9jsZgsU7UO-i9U/s1600/IMG_3735.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We looked around nervously. For
the first twenty minutes we had been accosted by various drivers asking if we
wanted a ride somewhere. After refusing many times, and spending so long trying
not to catch the eye of any more drivers, we now had to decide who to choose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Before we could decide, our taxi came
back around the corner and stopped to see if we wanted to go home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Since we knew the fare, we
added a small bonus, and gave the girl her own little tip. They smiled
appreciatively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Later that day, we decided to go
back to town for dinner. A girl from the hotel offered to call a “taxi” for us,
so we went outside, expecting another friendly and colourful local. Instead an
unhappy looking young man pulled into the drive on the most beat up old
motorbike and battered sidecar, I had ever seen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyksRanAL9FenFzaTND1nMNOkHFaFphH_RfbfxidVsx8jy6OQvSEDJaHfoKLOs0Whvqd-jmJ3-a0OQn-xi-0Y9y1GRxZCnXXMB0hxGRNSDdbSRX89q5a8I-qJB1b87sTpuCQ2LH__qtE/s1600/IMG_3790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyksRanAL9FenFzaTND1nMNOkHFaFphH_RfbfxidVsx8jy6OQvSEDJaHfoKLOs0Whvqd-jmJ3-a0OQn-xi-0Y9y1GRxZCnXXMB0hxGRNSDdbSRX89q5a8I-qJB1b87sTpuCQ2LH__qtE/s1600/IMG_3790.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other people's accommodation</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The girl from the hotel was
sitting behind him and said she was going to be our tour guide. I was confused.
We only wanted to go up the road a bit, then into town again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We drove left along a road I had
walked earlier because I wanted to show Phil the lovely old homes there. I knew the road was rough, broken, and steep,
but I didn’t expect that the bike would stutter and slide and that we would
have to get out and walk to reach the top.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0bsu6KzLOEBDOrbBmHNN2OxUxtwykkfs_1XdMjFeTumY6ESmbVaARDMOnAMX5D3KVF4jBtezpXO0J2IyeLeBuWdxdtaUX9G0VsW6RRPTGM6gm2RQ5rvUn4zVKI3siBDDQm4ao9VmFsiU/s1600/IMG_3779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0bsu6KzLOEBDOrbBmHNN2OxUxtwykkfs_1XdMjFeTumY6ESmbVaARDMOnAMX5D3KVF4jBtezpXO0J2IyeLeBuWdxdtaUX9G0VsW6RRPTGM6gm2RQ5rvUn4zVKI3siBDDQm4ao9VmFsiU/s1600/IMG_3779.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical Filipino Roadworks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As we started back to town, I
got even more nervous. It was getting dark and we had no lights. I mentioned
the lack of lights to Phil. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Suddenly the driver turned on
his headlights. I suspect he was saving his battery or something. I wasn’t
impressed. I was determined not to use this bike and the grumpy driver on the
way back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">When we arrived in town, the
girl insisted they would wait for us, and again we said no thanks. The young
man looked annoyed. He argued with the girl, but since it was in Tagalog, I
could only assume that she had told him we would need him all night and he
would get good money. Not our fault if she had. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He looked sullen and grumpy. Eventually
we asked what it cost. He still looked like we had stolen his last dollar and
then he asked for four times what we had paid the other driver. It was still a
small amount, equivalent to a few Australian dollars, so we paid it just to get
rid of him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Motorbikes and motorbike taxis
are everywhere here. I have seen up to four adults and a baby on one bike. Often
the adults are sitting sideways on the back texting or maybe updating their
Facebook status. “Still riding into town. Saw a couple of foreigners walking by.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; text-align: center;">Bikes are also good for
transporting goods or busloads of people. Once we passed a bike with a huge
oxen sitting in the sidecar, looking like Dino in the Flintstone cartoon, about
to tip over the whole vehicle if it just twitched too much.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemjkB1kAgtDOg9slPuny8m9l_HpLAi1pkci3m3BPBLCjnuGftrx0tzYUy1tCGzxidwLdT3tOUF7DzX9zXlYWAeybn5dkqmDJ9_tVzrRWb4ugeG0IMzZLTY-w3aVRH93MIQWBhdins-8o/s1600/Taxis+light+shadow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemjkB1kAgtDOg9slPuny8m9l_HpLAi1pkci3m3BPBLCjnuGftrx0tzYUy1tCGzxidwLdT3tOUF7DzX9zXlYWAeybn5dkqmDJ9_tVzrRWb4ugeG0IMzZLTY-w3aVRH93MIQWBhdins-8o/s1600/Taxis+light+shadow.jpg" height="265" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taxis of all kinds, even one carrying pigs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Getting around in the
Philippines is half the fun. It’s cheap, efficient, and a great way to meet the
locals; both the friendly and, unfortunately, the grumpy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-83460892756979336352014-05-30T23:36:00.000+10:002014-05-31T00:03:07.192+10:00A Storm in a Bamboo boat<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRWQsnZEWmBJddL4m9rx71z7h8_fuBvXh4FQ-jozsfSocv_cJdNm637N09DNfnUQBG-LsMw1lMMnbUHy0p8LKcl9rsOyBX4z5z4TO779VoLruiJb_Tq3KVjVqv2dccNRPL6dWXadcUrY/s1600/IMG_3878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRWQsnZEWmBJddL4m9rx71z7h8_fuBvXh4FQ-jozsfSocv_cJdNm637N09DNfnUQBG-LsMw1lMMnbUHy0p8LKcl9rsOyBX4z5z4TO779VoLruiJb_Tq3KVjVqv2dccNRPL6dWXadcUrY/s1600/IMG_3878.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phil and me and clouds closing in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dark clouds closed in and rain fell in great sheets
making it impossible to see any of the islands around us. It thundered onto the too small roof of the local boat we had sailed out on. It was made of bamboo that seemed to be held together with
string and there was not really enough shelter from the rain. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The crew simply settled into their seats and smoked,
relaxed, or made another bowl of rice and meat over the gas stove perched on
the front of the boat. We had no choice but to sit back and rely on our crew to
know what to do, and hope the rain would let up soon so we would know which way to go home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkVPhgqRQNWJ5n0mq2wmqKJaHgDddoQmoinxW12kpzxJNszc4PJko9Vi0qyhYodtGf05RYfvnAQLHGX7FXCFlvQBYyljORH7HPnnzUVkXG2KBXQT6_YDtOqB6CxbIvNxWbHF7R7xpDB8/s1600/IMG_3840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkVPhgqRQNWJ5n0mq2wmqKJaHgDddoQmoinxW12kpzxJNszc4PJko9Vi0qyhYodtGf05RYfvnAQLHGX7FXCFlvQBYyljORH7HPnnzUVkXG2KBXQT6_YDtOqB6CxbIvNxWbHF7R7xpDB8/s1600/IMG_3840.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Detail from the boat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil had just completed a deep sea dive onto a coral shelf,
complete with schools of exotic fish and large manta rays. I decided not to
attempt scuba this trip and had stayed by the boat floating crazily in the
swell, holding tightly to a boat line and peering into the gloom through my mask,
not really seeing anything but having fun and probably causing the crew some
amusement. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Earlier I had snorkeled near a tiny island where Phil and the others were diving, I decided to walk across to the other side, just because I could. I thought the remaining crew were busy ignoring me until I heard loud shouts as they called me back in Filipino and broken English.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Sd0gKiOdntevY6D5zofHTIBVfQ7fYmpQ1fTZwEfJY0HVQ8c7kPLMVpM0xugurkOvNSzNFKd2UZSPZzZTtYxMZCojKzkb5CRFpn0XgOUhI3Eo2wbnbC4BIHkFC7DCGbO1Sfd4VbxDxoI/s1600/IMG_3852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Sd0gKiOdntevY6D5zofHTIBVfQ7fYmpQ1fTZwEfJY0HVQ8c7kPLMVpM0xugurkOvNSzNFKd2UZSPZzZTtYxMZCojKzkb5CRFpn0XgOUhI3Eo2wbnbC4BIHkFC7DCGbO1Sfd4VbxDxoI/s1600/IMG_3852.JPG" height="150" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love the blue of the water here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They sounded serious, but I never found out whether I had walked
on private land, or offended some tribal law, or maybe been in danger from wild tigers. They went back to ignoring me when I went back on board. I think it was how they coped because their English was so limited.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the torrential rain started, we were as far from land as we could be. There were islands all around us, but I couldn't see any of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since we didn't speak Filipino and the crew had limited English,
we spent the time talking to a young English back packer who was the only other
tourist on the dive trip. The crew fed us some of the meat and rice they had
cooked on board. Within an hour, the clouds lifted, the rain stopped
completely as if it had never been, and now that we could see land, we set off home.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJ569P3zYREKvWCj7AbO3ifMTNuD6wQN45jg5tH2-eLve18Ivm3pP0_dexQxxv3N6t7Tb-bi1mx3AosUUQTz_YOAtess1Otp4eU8mZ34A983pr3N7SVvkClsaIA-ZINBcz7qtQaO3TrU/s1600/IMG_3882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJ569P3zYREKvWCj7AbO3ifMTNuD6wQN45jg5tH2-eLve18Ivm3pP0_dexQxxv3N6t7Tb-bi1mx3AosUUQTz_YOAtess1Otp4eU8mZ34A983pr3N7SVvkClsaIA-ZINBcz7qtQaO3TrU/s1600/IMG_3882.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our boat and crew</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The breeze of the moving boat over our wet bodies chilled
me, but who could complain as we sailed back over the now sparkling waters to a picture perfect tropical beach. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the adventure wasn't over. That night we had a date with
thousands of fireflies.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was fully dark and the slope down to the river was
slippery. The tiny torch one of the men carried was not helping much. The best
view of the fireflies was from the river so we prepared to board another
home-made Filipino boat. One I could hardly see.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKir0vpi2fJE8zoMCLH4y4rk_CRCJ5t0qd8E47-dNaDUj8cAGvm2wQ3N9mSFTK3ZGh6XvgPOyhhAE_U28XP0hGnA3umMyNvlbNkAa5XYCL0J5r1WEbbzwhsUFDHF3i7JI44H8Klm6V70w/s1600/IMG_3747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKir0vpi2fJE8zoMCLH4y4rk_CRCJ5t0qd8E47-dNaDUj8cAGvm2wQ3N9mSFTK3ZGh6XvgPOyhhAE_U28XP0hGnA3umMyNvlbNkAa5XYCL0J5r1WEbbzwhsUFDHF3i7JI44H8Klm6V70w/s1600/IMG_3747.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrance to a home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I clambered over the bow as instructed, carefully holding
the poles for reference and stepping awkwardly over what I knew was a narrow bamboo floor. My
son once fell through a bamboo floor in a Filipino home, so I was terrified I
was going to break through the boat deck and sink the boat. It took me some time
to find the strongest bamboo beams to sit and walk on, especially since I had to feel my way around. It was so dark, I still don't know how many others were on the boat with us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We skimmed along the river for a while, listening to the gentle thrub of the engines, and the quiet voice of the guide. I began to relax, and enjoy the cool scents of the evening. Then the guide pointed out a group of trees. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To my surprise, each was outlined by thousands of specks of pulsing light, like the scattered
sparks of fireworks in an ink black sky.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiP7sja-5uupyOcqnEiQ3sJsHoD_qNQC5iKr7JYlJIbEEwbFDM-2mhHrA9NmTg1Ise-FdvJdVvuETiWKR__4Z0lnzGYjnlbWtZqR_jkiODRf4UV3LJm-1aXtfPNmYG1sjNmAt_cnz3qEw/s1600/IMG_3748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiP7sja-5uupyOcqnEiQ3sJsHoD_qNQC5iKr7JYlJIbEEwbFDM-2mhHrA9NmTg1Ise-FdvJdVvuETiWKR__4Z0lnzGYjnlbWtZqR_jkiODRf4UV3LJm-1aXtfPNmYG1sjNmAt_cnz3qEw/s1600/IMG_3748.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a>The pilot told us about the families living in the area,
many of whom did not have electricity or TV. He had other interesting stories
about the area, but the best part was when we all sat quietly and listened to
the light slap of the water against the boat and a small hum coming from the
insects above us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He moved in closer and, reaching out to the trees, he gave us one each to hold. Mine was as inconsequential as a piece of sand. A tiny and weightless speck of light in my hand and gone too soon. Phil's continued to crawl around on his shirt for most of the trip.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was another incredible experience in the Philippines, and
well worth the fourteen hour drive from Manila.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCRivR1q9k_gUF7tywbbYK0iHzBFlYH-3WoPNO951QnRgIgV-l8JTCUii22BfGJhD5Hu9wCBldW6alpz89FshDot34I7HixzmlaUVy6xpRc2wJY7YcyjfudQ6zBIMzSIU_pBJh6xb3dmY/s1600/IMG_3712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCRivR1q9k_gUF7tywbbYK0iHzBFlYH-3WoPNO951QnRgIgV-l8JTCUii22BfGJhD5Hu9wCBldW6alpz89FshDot34I7HixzmlaUVy6xpRc2wJY7YcyjfudQ6zBIMzSIU_pBJh6xb3dmY/s1600/IMG_3712.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went to Donsol to see the whale sharks it is
famous for, but we went in the wrong season. The only shark we saw was the
statue outside our hotel. But there is more to do here than whale sharks. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
More even than diving and fireflies. In my next blog I will introduce you to the tiny village of Donsol and
some of its interesting people. See you there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.s. Check out the sample of my new book <b>Junk Mail Princess</b>, due out soon. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-11194338103976964882014-04-03T11:53:00.001+10:002014-04-03T11:53:33.060+10:00Security guards, guns, and human road blocks.<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAv3Z0qRGBEOquoEsz_dC9aN-kYxdByIlSIHQMPDpbhISLkoY8JowTfolDk1Ot1tv8gowbXHQ6TVCelpJ4Y-IzNy3lxKwTIQwsB6tshP-ZJDzA5J0gdqI420xBLgv9_lokd8Kmdik5AYo/s1600/IMG_3811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAv3Z0qRGBEOquoEsz_dC9aN-kYxdByIlSIHQMPDpbhISLkoY8JowTfolDk1Ot1tv8gowbXHQ6TVCelpJ4Y-IzNy3lxKwTIQwsB6tshP-ZJDzA5J0gdqI420xBLgv9_lokd8Kmdik5AYo/s1600/IMG_3811.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Donsol Resort Hotel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The hotel guard had a shotgun and dark pants tucked into
his socks. He looked serious but it didn’t seem like a dangerous place. It was hard to tell since
we had arrived at almost 2am in the morning. Driving to Donsol in the
Philippines in a rental car had proved quite a challenge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil had driven the whole way slowly and carefully. By the
time it got dark, the traffic had thinned out but he still had to negotiate the
odd pedestrian, dog, or slowly moving roadblock that turned out to be an unlit
motorbike with a sidecar. Then we came across road works.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not road works lit up with mobile street lights, two trucks
with ten foot high neon signs, and a well lit up police car like we were used
to in Australia, but a long dark hole taking up half of the road and bordered
by a row of small rocks. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My husband drove carefully through the narrow space left on
the road, praying no one would come the other way and almost ran into small
children with torches and large begging cups with long handles. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWx5aqesJnpGGEEJJz8luBdoSAlTWky-fEjQiThC7ATET3No_inik5WpFf7bTkvBbBRuTOzu3hUoOWY9n-Tk1JejtjnVY4sNoqZ75iQsDyVS_WQ2cPsU5dUxJeOWGqOaCDelKXP1iuXw/s1600/IMG_3659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWx5aqesJnpGGEEJJz8luBdoSAlTWky-fEjQiThC7ATET3No_inik5WpFf7bTkvBbBRuTOzu3hUoOWY9n-Tk1JejtjnVY4sNoqZ75iQsDyVS_WQ2cPsU5dUxJeOWGqOaCDelKXP1iuXw/s1600/IMG_3659.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roadworks are tricky enough to negotiate in the light of day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
We inched past with our windows up, trying to ignore them,
unwilling to encourage them to approach cars. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The third time we drove through a town with road works and more
children, we wondered if they were road works or road blocks. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then a man started
running our way shouting passionately. We kept moving and spent the next ten
minutes reassuring each other that he was not a police man. I could see us
hunted down and locked up for the rest of our holiday if we were wrong. We had
only been in the Philippines for a few days and had no idea what the rules
were.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The trip had taken us much longer than expected. It was
about eleven o’clock at night and we estimated that we still had about three
hours to go. We considered stopping somewhere for the night, but we had no idea
where. There were no obvious hotels and after being accosted by families in the
villages, we had no idea if it was safe to even stop. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I called the hotel we had booked and they assured us they
would have a security guard waiting for us. We decided to keep driving.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two long hours later, as we drove into a small Filipino
town, Phil felt a sudden loss of traction in the rental car. He pulled over
under a single street light next to a small hall and got out to find we had a
flat tyre.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He to get the spare tyre from the boot, while I got out and
stared nervously around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just then, a large group of young people came out of the
hall and began to walk towards us. I moved closer to Phil, but they all got
into nearby cars and left. It looks like they had just finished a meeting as we
arrived, so I relaxed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil began the process of jacking up the car and I looked up
to see two men on a motorbike drive past pointing and waving. The motorbike did
a u-turn and pulled up next to the car.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The older of the two men was clearly drunk, but he insisted
on trying to help as Phil struggled to work the cheap and badly designed jack
which skittered and dropped the car several times. The older man continually
offered useless suggestions and offered do it for us.<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stood aside holding the tyre iron firmly and trying to
look tough as I kept an eye on the younger man who was checking the other side
of the car. He looked to me as if he was planning to open the door and run off
with anything worth having. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite inadequate tools, poor light, a barely functional
spare tyre, and a very vocal and bossy audience, Phil finally replaced the
tyre. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the fun began.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You have some money mister?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, we have no local money” we said only half lying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You have a bottle mister?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, sorry, I don’t drink.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Just one bottle’”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phil knew all along what was going on, but it only clicked
for me then that the men had stopped to try to get something out of us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We left as quickly as we could get away without being rude, and
we left them empty-handed. They contributed nothing but distraction to the job,
and we felt safer with our wallets tucked away in the car.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another hour later, we rounded a tight uphill corner and
came across three people asleep in our lane. Phil braked and changed lanes quickly
as they didn’t seem inclined to move. It was the day of the dead and many
people were sleeping at the cemetery but these guys were close to sleeping in
one for good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRjkoziv5hPsW-L7jiFD3YSDyEZlj_K3LRUUbKuC97A7YdwbesdHywjJG5Mb-pK7CvQxWQ2EmTS-pKIjlRtA02GjR0rIfZITFjs4W8HlOi7SlS96wGPT_1f-uDAH-AGoSeM3jW-z3fag/s1600/IMG_3805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioRjkoziv5hPsW-L7jiFD3YSDyEZlj_K3LRUUbKuC97A7YdwbesdHywjJG5Mb-pK7CvQxWQ2EmTS-pKIjlRtA02GjR0rIfZITFjs4W8HlOi7SlS96wGPT_1f-uDAH-AGoSeM3jW-z3fag/s1600/IMG_3805.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Hotel at Sunset</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At last we arrived in Donsol, our destination, but I
couldn’t find the hotel which looked so easy to find on the google map. It was
almost two in the morning but we spotted a couple of young women out walking
with a baby (yes, a baby at 2am) and asked them for help.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ten minutes later, we pulled up to the gate and were met by
the security guard with a rifle hanging from his belt. We fell out of the car
exhausted and followed him through the dark compound to our room, wondering
what was so dangerous that he needed a gun in a small town tourist resort. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The room was damp as if it had not been used for months, but
I was impressed to see the welcoming sight of towels made into a swan on the
bed. Then a large cockroach scuttled across the wall startled by the light. After
a bit of cockroach bashing, we stumbled into a cool shower and a warm bed, and
finally fell asleep, looking forward to a few days of swimming on the shores of
an uninhabited island and floating down a river under dark trees festooned with
fireflies.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But that is a story for my next post. See you here. <o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-44955612758918235482014-03-01T16:15:00.000+10:002014-03-11T14:56:26.207+10:00Philippines - Manila to Donsol<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a goat on the road, and people sleeping in our
lane. There were cross-country buses going eighty miles an hour on the wrong
side of the road and motorbikes with side cars going ten miles an hour in the
middle of the street.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IOg5Vm2K5RSIq1plUO_NO8lrGiA8NxXeEPnESstYPdgmrGJyx_PadB3YuzB4tiwe0Y1YSGS7Xt86208kSp-EzUHGynbxQfgA52fdAgk7-RnLR5DvmVnZaYG8cvBky7fCfyNsGYmBBsY/s1600/4.+Beware.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IOg5Vm2K5RSIq1plUO_NO8lrGiA8NxXeEPnESstYPdgmrGJyx_PadB3YuzB4tiwe0Y1YSGS7Xt86208kSp-EzUHGynbxQfgA52fdAgk7-RnLR5DvmVnZaYG8cvBky7fCfyNsGYmBBsY/s1600/4.+Beware.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My husband and I were driving from Manila to Donsol on the
island of Luzon in the Philippines, and he needed a whole new set of skills not
taught in Australian driving schools. He had to learn to negotiate pedestrians
and even parades walking down the centre of the road, pass overloaded
motorbikes without knocking off any protruding limbs, creep through intersections
filled with cars going in all directions, and overtake any sort of vehicle with
limited line of sight and often no idea what was coming the other way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRzIdIgsC62n0hyphenhyphenvFeunYzxvLC0PNYcEkDVIiKimupbsupaWwRsXWkkp1SWGHmFdh4iDHuKWAJqP8Rp_PiMQbP9Wx1dB1BcVPyjb60LKcBDNyutLA_Jfm9VgRdSTGYXSw3vJ9WlqZbr8/s1600/4.+map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKRzIdIgsC62n0hyphenhyphenvFeunYzxvLC0PNYcEkDVIiKimupbsupaWwRsXWkkp1SWGHmFdh4iDHuKWAJqP8Rp_PiMQbP9Wx1dB1BcVPyjb60LKcBDNyutLA_Jfm9VgRdSTGYXSw3vJ9WlqZbr8/s1600/4.+map.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>It was only our second day in the Philippines, and our first
day driving the rental car. Google maps said our trip was about five hundred
kilometres and would take eight hours. It took us fourteen. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The main highway out of Manila was wide and clear and lulled
us into a false sense of relaxed expectation. We set a cracking pace. Even the
toll booths were a minor annoyance, and the hardest part was choosing which
coins to hand over in an unfamiliar currency. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I found out what sort of road was waiting for us, I
would gladly have handed over all my money in loose change for another highway.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the first hour, the road was like being on a moving
obstacle course. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First there were the other vehicles. My husband was still
getting used to driving on the right side of the road (not our usual practice)
when he would find cars, jeeps, and even buses coming at him on his side. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everybody overtook with great confidence no matter how small
the gap and size dictated who had right of way. Buses roared past in the wrong
lane, confident in the knowledge that all other vehicles would move aside. Motorbikes
often had to leave the road to avoid a head on collision.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It didn’t take us long to realise that there was a reason
for all the overtaking. We would come up behind a motorbike with a side car and
sometimes people hanging off the back and legs everywhere and be stuck at
funeral speed unless we found a way to get past.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHqzzaPs3DoGfJ-9T-P7JJqt2mOXEhBNwS2Kwvs2n-mj4hjjRZuoXZdcoS477dnULlqJfJCCFFy3gyFAZhfk4HoepcywHFl3iUmrk78Tlvm28WViPc_0DJibnJbtfalfLRAoa18YWgts/s1600/IMG_3641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHqzzaPs3DoGfJ-9T-P7JJqt2mOXEhBNwS2Kwvs2n-mj4hjjRZuoXZdcoS477dnULlqJfJCCFFy3gyFAZhfk4HoepcywHFl3iUmrk78Tlvm28WViPc_0DJibnJbtfalfLRAoa18YWgts/s1600/IMG_3641.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note; Truck and car overtaking</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes there simply was no way to get past. We took this
epic journey on the Day of Souls when it seemed the whole country was out on
the road on their way to pay respects to the dead. Driving through town often
meant driving through crowds of people ambling along the road in no particular
hurry or taking a detour down a long narrow back alley along with hundreds of
other vehicles. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCGcJ55_4N3HlKwIFFAz3vifFse2l7P2vrjNfRAXL4G8TD6CD8OkoRR-91ZryCIPa8BIssLmazE_A3fFXpzRQ9pWQBpKBCq6Na2lt0QVTgyoOFe4uNJxrXj3UvnizdxtH6o_oHhSs7eQ/s1600/IMG_4386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCGcJ55_4N3HlKwIFFAz3vifFse2l7P2vrjNfRAXL4G8TD6CD8OkoRR-91ZryCIPa8BIssLmazE_A3fFXpzRQ9pWQBpKBCq6Na2lt0QVTgyoOFe4uNJxrXj3UvnizdxtH6o_oHhSs7eQ/s1600/IMG_4386.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It also meant every single motorbike and pushbike, with or
without sidecars had been pressed into service and was busy delivering people
to the cemeteries.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
People took what they could get, even if it meant hanging
off the luggage carrier or sitting on the roof of a sidecar. We were often
slowed to pushbike speed, and Phil soon learned to pass in the smallest window
of opportunity. To add to the degree of difficulty, most of the only road was narrow
and winding, with buildings, dogs, chickens, or even toddlers, often right up
against the edge of the driving lane. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After ten gruelling hours, night fell and my long-suffering
husband had a new challenge. He would peer through the dark and slow for a dark
shape that turned out to be five people on a motorbike without lights, or a
pedal bike with a cow in the side car. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was hard work driving under those conditions but it got
worse.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First we were accosted by children begging for money, and
then we blew a tyre.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
More on that next time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-85088816038505693782014-02-18T11:02:00.000+10:002014-02-18T11:02:37.332+10:00Philippines Day Two – Looking for the “Bideo” Store<div style="border-bottom: solid #4F81BD 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;">
The road we walked down was narrow, dark, and dirty and most
of the paving was broken or missing. We limped along as best we could, trying
to avoid the traffic by using what path there was and walking single file. Passing
under a crumbling archway, the stench of raw sewage hit us, intensified by the
warm and damp air.</div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid #4F81BD 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid #4F81BD 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;">
It was our first night in the Philippines and my husband and
I had arrived at our hostel without enough cash and they didn’t take cards. We
were now on a mission to walk back to the cash machine we had visited on the
way in.</div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid #4F81BD 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At my earlier visit to the cash machine, I had planned to
withdraw ten thousand Pesos but each time I had entered the amount, I got
scared I would have to re-mortgage the house to pay for it. I cancelled the
transaction and withdrew just one thousand Pesos and came away with the
equivalent of twenty five Australian dollars.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now we had to go back to the ATM even though it was after
ten o’clock at night so we could pay for the hostel we had already moved into.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5Vftv2I0MA9IaJmSUh65uJCMtuaWjEYQvqzU-h74VGsIDegGJ4cNjPh6NlH4z9vWOOqSEefv09UFagWQGDvhKgpbMSY23SDa36hmPGmA-F_I9R8ysjl1f12DiOo6fTqD7RQvC2InOvY/s1600/IMG_3921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5Vftv2I0MA9IaJmSUh65uJCMtuaWjEYQvqzU-h74VGsIDegGJ4cNjPh6NlH4z9vWOOqSEefv09UFagWQGDvhKgpbMSY23SDa36hmPGmA-F_I9R8ysjl1f12DiOo6fTqD7RQvC2InOvY/s1600/IMG_3921.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Colourful Filipino Jeepney</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Strange speeding vehicles passed within inches or weaved
confidently around us. Most were the local buses (or Jeepneys) with their
pretentious names and ostentatious paint jobs or brightly decorated motorbikes
with sidecars that the locals use as taxis. Either would have cost us less than
a dollar to hire but we decided to save ourselves the embarrassment of fumbling
with unfamiliar currency in the dark and kept walking. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_hIxMu-33poAdpfioj3p7YP58lhpe06lWSROD5P28v25EbG_BGum_j7X1ggAkg_o3305zzSfvPQSHs5myFx9ySvDVAHxDto-QcagUN5Rr7K0w6bU8e9UluGewBcoK5C_nLEJGiEdZ9c/s1600/IMG_3762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_hIxMu-33poAdpfioj3p7YP58lhpe06lWSROD5P28v25EbG_BGum_j7X1ggAkg_o3305zzSfvPQSHs5myFx9ySvDVAHxDto-QcagUN5Rr7K0w6bU8e9UluGewBcoK5C_nLEJGiEdZ9c/s1600/IMG_3762.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filipino Taxi</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was less than five minutes to the shopping centre, but as
we reached it, security guards closed the doors for the night, effectively
blocking off access to the ATM.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So there we were, standing on a street corner in an
unfamiliar city in the dark, with no money and no idea where to get some. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With the attitude that if you need help ask a policeman, we
headed over to ask an armed security guard at the nearby brightly lit Seven
Eleven for some help. The store didn’t give out cash but the guard pointed to a
shop further down the road and said there was a machine at the “bideo” store.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We could see the neon sign of a video shop and so we headed
for it. Inside I asked for the ATM and the confused shop owner said that they
only hired videos and only for a week as if that explained the absence of an
ATM. I looked around and could see why he thought we were crazy. It was a tiny
room packed with grey boxed shelves and was clearly just a video store.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We headed back to the Seven Eleven, dodging an obstacle
course of vehicles parked willy-nilly across the intersection at a red light.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back at the Seven Eleven, the guard pointed at the “bideo”
store again. Confused I asked if it was the yellow one we could see. He said it
was white. We decided it must be further up and headed out a second time to try
to find the other store.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The buildings here were old with grey imposing facades as if
we were on the site of a badly filmed western. Pieces of the buildings were
broken or missing and the shops were not much more than dark shanties. If this
was a movie, it would be the scene of a gang fight or a hold-up. We wondered if
we were wise to walk around an unfamiliar city this late at night, especially
since the Seven Eleven guard obviously felt he needed the guns he was carrying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We had almost given up when we spotted a bank with an outside
ATM. We were confused until we read the name of the bank out loud. It was
called BDO. Not bideo and certainly not video.
So much for our listening skills.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were pleased (and surprised?) to get our money without
being beaten, robbed, or otherwise molested and started back. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Suddenly my husband pulled my hand. Tripping lightly across
the cracked and dirty footpath and sashaying into a dimly lit digital copy
store was a very happy looking rat. He was totally unconcerned by our presence
and looked quite at home among the litter at street level. We just shook our
heads in wonder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we finally made it back to the hostel I think the staff
were as relieved as we were.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dodging the rats, and the rubble, and the traffic had been
quite an adventure, but it was just the start. The next day we had to join the
crazy mix of vehicles on the road. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will write about it in my next post.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Until then Paalam na<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>To learn more about house sitting, along with fun house sitting stories and tales of my adventures around Australia, go to www.nikkiiahwong.com or visit any good online store including Amazon.com.</i>Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-67059805704576127192013-11-27T17:23:00.000+10:002013-11-27T17:26:36.346+10:00Happy Little Coconuts - Our first night in the Philippines<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8rM4pyOxJyOP8THVuw852Kx8rjx_ch6hw3KVux73EoogYhIVQkUiVUOR8GSAtw8dvr9eVuZSR6gF3k1xhgUxajP2bEBpnzMvTSVVhyphenhyphenojj8IgeUt7WdoZZOxi2Gp_KZb70IyRB5RojjA/s1600/4.+Happy+Coconuts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8rM4pyOxJyOP8THVuw852Kx8rjx_ch6hw3KVux73EoogYhIVQkUiVUOR8GSAtw8dvr9eVuZSR6gF3k1xhgUxajP2bEBpnzMvTSVVhyphenhyphenojj8IgeUt7WdoZZOxi2Gp_KZb70IyRB5RojjA/s200/4.+Happy+Coconuts.jpg" width="178" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was dark when our driver stopped the car alongside a tall wooden fence with a small sign saying “Happy Coconuts Insurance.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Traffic swerved
around us on the narrow road so he put on the hazard lights and then began to walk
away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I began to panic.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was our first night in the Philippines and I had booked
us a rental car and a room at the Happy Coconuts hostel. The rental car had
turned up an hour late, and now the driver was going to leave us in front of an
insurance building in a dark but busy alley.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The words of a security guard at the airport came back to me
with a thud. He had said, “Manila can be dangerous. Get the number of the
driver and take photos of the rental car before you drive off. Also don’t leave
your window open when driving or someone might lean in and steal something when
the car stops.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It had made me exceedingly nervous and now I had even more
to worry about, like what happened to the hostel I booked?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The driver kindly returned, and walking along the fence he
found a small almost hidden door and a button which he pressed. In response a young man peered cautiously out. When he saw
us he quickly invited us in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Behind the dark unwelcoming looking fence was a tiny
courtyard and what appeared to be the most security conscious hostel I had ever
seen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmC4rzp6Ul2vStotG9BPNlmg_86EZLeo06mcuiD4pRrYOLEi6K8pBLARZzQyDUI8ZM7vDACX6OIWbjdXS4OFJ7sc4FpFhdX8YGyR_yfCwidkQPAyBr_4wu0W_Uz-7SoIgWLhT0Bgjtu5Q/s1600/4+Hidden+Hostel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmC4rzp6Ul2vStotG9BPNlmg_86EZLeo06mcuiD4pRrYOLEi6K8pBLARZzQyDUI8ZM7vDACX6OIWbjdXS4OFJ7sc4FpFhdX8YGyR_yfCwidkQPAyBr_4wu0W_Uz-7SoIgWLhT0Bgjtu5Q/s320/4+Hidden+Hostel.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Gates to the Hidden Hostel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The entry room was all old wood and linoleum floors with a
few Asian items on display. The bedroom had double locks and was also wood and
linoleum. It was not luxurious but it seemed clean, and although the beds were
unusually firm they had clean sheets<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the corner was a door leading into a small cupboard-sized
room containing a toilet and a shower fitting behind the sink.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We had read several reviews of the hostel from previous
guests so alongside our toothbrushes and paste, my thoughtful husband had
packed toilet paper and soap. We needed both. There was a bucket of water and a
scoop in the corner for use instead of toilet paper, but we couldn't bring
ourselves to use it, even if we knew how.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What I didn't expect was the almost complete lack of floor
space for the shower and the towels so thin I could see through them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had chosen this particular hostel partly for its proximity
to the airport and partly because it advertised that it was in a safe part of
town. I wondered why they needed the elaborate hoax at the gate.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were soon to find out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We had arrived without enough cash to pay the hostel and we had
to go for a walk to get some.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The young woman at the desk suggested we would be perfectly safe,
but the young man was quite adamant that we should not go walking at night. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We decided to see for ourselves. In my next blog I will tell
you how it went. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Expect some surprises.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
See you then.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-40046365925231807062013-11-13T19:12:00.001+10:002013-11-13T19:12:48.691+10:00At the Edge of the Philippines Typhoon – Landslides and Road WorkRain lashed our windscreen and ran in swift rivulets down the edges of the concrete road. My husband and I looked at each other in concern. We had not seen a car for over half an hour. Perhaps the road was closed further up..<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was the last day of our visit to the Philippines and we were headed back on the same day as the biggest typhoon in recorded history was due to hit the Philippines.<div>
<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtpwD1wV9nHvAIeGUK8F26xFM7JyENfA5awLK4ddqUEz9ALyUZ5Jen7A1Ci5rrnEGrpuN9RN-HQSinesJOidXLNrKMjlZue7dI0PphWuvNmtTKBZxn-PUhNMZWa7ghRfiz6KuW0MSB9Z4/s1600/B+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtpwD1wV9nHvAIeGUK8F26xFM7JyENfA5awLK4ddqUEz9ALyUZ5Jen7A1Ci5rrnEGrpuN9RN-HQSinesJOidXLNrKMjlZue7dI0PphWuvNmtTKBZxn-PUhNMZWa7ghRfiz6KuW0MSB9Z4/s320/B+Map.jpg" width="252" /></a>We were incredibly lucky. We were north of the worst of it
and only experiencing strong winds and heavy rain. Further south, thousands were
killed by falling buildings or flooding and many more were left homeless.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that I am back home in Brisbane, Australia, I sit here
amazed at how lucky I was. I still have a home, I have food, and I have my loved ones.
The Philippines tragedy is a stark reminder that not everyone has it as good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I almost feel guilty for getting back without incident. From
what I saw, many people there have never had the things I take for granted.
While there are wealthy families, many people still live in homes with dirt
floors and a rusty corrugated tin roof. For some even that has been taken away.
As I watch the terrible devastation, in the Central Philippines I hope they can
rebuild their lives.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For my husband and I, the storm was an adventure, just part
of a wonderful magic trip to a country bursting with life and colour. In the next
few posts I will write about some of our other incredible experiences in the
Philippines but today I want to tell you how it was for us at the edge of the typhoon.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We headed north from Manila the day before the storm and it
was clear something big was expected. All the advertising signs had been rolled
up for safety, leaving hundreds of giant scaffolds looking skeleton bare. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOuLcWLnrEhuJcBbWp7hz8S1uykIZACvfwUyLkUE1zTFMaVvsYf5IqCQpiC7Pz8EOTseSE2yQqMwVre7ryaXL2aPvyWVY8qVO2grpGQJM6NmM4cyM_kmxvbFkUxXNYCtlIDzyeopPT4-Q/s1600/B.+Rolled+up+ad+signs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOuLcWLnrEhuJcBbWp7hz8S1uykIZACvfwUyLkUE1zTFMaVvsYf5IqCQpiC7Pz8EOTseSE2yQqMwVre7ryaXL2aPvyWVY8qVO2grpGQJM6NmM4cyM_kmxvbFkUxXNYCtlIDzyeopPT4-Q/s320/B.+Rolled+up+ad+signs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Within a few miles of Manila we had to stop several times to
pay tolls and while I normally loathe the idea of paying a toll, this time I
didn’t mind. After driving for days at pushbike speed on roads where we fought
for space with motorbikes, Jeepneys, pedestrians, dogs, chickens, and even the
odd cow or pig, it was nice to drive in our own dedicated lane for a while,
even if we had to pay for it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All too soon the highway ran out and we were back on
provincial roads. Provincial roads in the Philippines can be hazardous, even
without the slow traffic and kamikaze livestock.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq11-NXRKNNakcnhyUcQwMvfKDxsI4hmFIJFaYWlIsF8oqD_9q22ZKI91WLrE1NuYJJvg8GMGN9SqBxnBNYE5KdIOpxl6l6kvIk0WwJmyNwqdYseJOXxeuvTWxinwU-hKaFHCfVizm1Ik/s1600/B+Road+Narrows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq11-NXRKNNakcnhyUcQwMvfKDxsI4hmFIJFaYWlIsF8oqD_9q22ZKI91WLrE1NuYJJvg8GMGN9SqBxnBNYE5KdIOpxl6l6kvIk0WwJmyNwqdYseJOXxeuvTWxinwU-hKaFHCfVizm1Ik/s320/B+Road+Narrows.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some sections were being repaired but these could be more
hazardous than an unrepaired road. In Australia there would be flashing warning
signs for miles ahead, a police car nearby, and hundreds of neon orange road
cones to warn and divert drivers. In the Philippines there might be one hand
drawn sign and a row of rocks. In some cases there was just a row of rocks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnesjLh30mmwMLltK_LTazU_c5iuyyoddwM4FYNS4L58wVL3ZM2kxTW_sFOeuO1W8K8Kwn5Egb_xWktH0Mx-SfUU6qI1WT8Fo5fm5h_QHBhWULpoqZq_B97bAZyi9zNMyIFIR-MxDDY-E/s1600/B+Road+Rough.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnesjLh30mmwMLltK_LTazU_c5iuyyoddwM4FYNS4L58wVL3ZM2kxTW_sFOeuO1W8K8Kwn5Egb_xWktH0Mx-SfUU6qI1WT8Fo5fm5h_QHBhWULpoqZq_B97bAZyi9zNMyIFIR-MxDDY-E/s320/B+Road+Rough.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Occasionally we saw a sign saying “Men at Work” and several
times we saw the crew working. Road workers had no safety gear and were
breaking up old concrete roads, building concrete walls, and repairing the road
edges with hand tools. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dw6jgtmpcv6xqV4czgOZQcNNzx84owzUTUsVMi3RSuU_9CU74kMB6qsWQLswbmAOq4CuK__Fb9GE-O_m5GsGSeruknhJa8miO-sgMPymFXbfXqHMoeyxRUzaLKxo-JNRC97-FArmF5w/s1600/B+Road+Works.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dw6jgtmpcv6xqV4czgOZQcNNzx84owzUTUsVMi3RSuU_9CU74kMB6qsWQLswbmAOq4CuK__Fb9GE-O_m5GsGSeruknhJa8miO-sgMPymFXbfXqHMoeyxRUzaLKxo-JNRC97-FArmF5w/s320/B+Road+Works.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So the roads were already variable and tricky to negotiate,
but on the day of the storm we had heavy rain and wild winds that threatened to
blow cars off the twisty road we were on. Most people stayed home and we saw no
traffic for miles. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were several landslides and lots of rocks on the road. <o:p></o:p>We began to wonder if the road was even open where we were.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were very relieved when we saw a bus coming out way. We knew from previous experience that Philippino bus drives don't let much get in their way, but even they could not negotiate a blocked road.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnm3xnB5E79ZBcDmSB8xsJwlHFx_koMsg9Dd0IJUncQYqFXp6ydr0qhRic35hF77-zsqIDI2WTOvsP-wA20QRcmywnM4OCV4zBxrML7n1h5WEQYnJ5rj0GlgSYufBVYYPSJzYQuQbDlg/s1600/B+Landslide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnm3xnB5E79ZBcDmSB8xsJwlHFx_koMsg9Dd0IJUncQYqFXp6ydr0qhRic35hF77-zsqIDI2WTOvsP-wA20QRcmywnM4OCV4zBxrML7n1h5WEQYnJ5rj0GlgSYufBVYYPSJzYQuQbDlg/s320/B+Landslide.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At one point I got out of the car to clear off a few rocks
too large to drive over and I looked up to see rocks still sliding down the
hill. I got back into the car really fast.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was the most adventurous trip of my life and the storm
was just one small part of it. I look forward to sharing some of the highlights
from our trip to the Philippines in coming posts. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do come back. In my next post I will explain what a Jeepney is.</div>
</div>
</div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-84837011220558048942013-10-14T17:11:00.000+10:002013-10-14T17:11:00.791+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Bonus - Self-Publishing on CreateSpace)<div class="MsoNormal">
This week was the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I wrote a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is a bonus post.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Bonus; Self-Publishing on CreateSpace </b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1BWhIK9A5-piMUbPI_2YvfqpKxLoTQESmfbh5zNr_fpJKDGx6f2LdR7ingjy7CoObA4Mq1-XyCG-B2Il3_A7PrGK8XY5oarYx-SCjmMYRdZNfNlkLMctPiXPOKDLkJwKrrOiB77932OI/s1600/memoir+Bonus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1BWhIK9A5-piMUbPI_2YvfqpKxLoTQESmfbh5zNr_fpJKDGx6f2LdR7ingjy7CoObA4Mq1-XyCG-B2Il3_A7PrGK8XY5oarYx-SCjmMYRdZNfNlkLMctPiXPOKDLkJwKrrOiB77932OI/s320/memoir+Bonus.jpg" width="284" /></a></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am a huge fan of CreateSpace. Whether you sell hundreds of
books, or just print a few for family members the prices are very good
especially for a black and white print paperback book. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This post gets quite technical but it will be really helpful
if you want to publish yourself. And if it all gets too hard, (especially the
formatting or cover designing) you can pay for CreateSpace to do both and
bypass the technical stuff. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you want to give it a try, here are some tips. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->CreateSpace is for printing and publishing your
book but you can go there before you finish your book and use their preview
service. This will let you put up a sample of your book and get feedback from
other authors. You can even put up several samples and test book titles or
different formats.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Before you start, you will need your completed
and formatted manuscript (preferably in PDF form) your ISBN number (if you are
using your own) and graphics for your cover.<span lang="EN"> You need to put everything in your file before you can set up your book. You
can pay someone to format your book, use a CreateSpace template or do it
yourself. (ISBN information is below)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN">Following
their process is quite simple if you have your book file, ISBN, and graphics. I
choose a blank book cover as I design my own but you can insert your own
graphic into one of their templates quite easily. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN">Choose
your own name as publisher or a business name if you prefer. You can also leave
this field empty. Do not put CreateSpace here as they do not want their name
anywhere in the interior file</span>. <span lang="EN">Note; if you do not fill in these fields, you will not be able to fill them
out later. You will have time to make corrections, changes, etc. until you hit
the publish button at the bottom of the screen </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Double check everything before publishing.
CreateSpace has a clever review option that lets you see each page as it will
print. Use it now to save time later. If there are any errors go back to the
formatting, make corrections, and insert a new file before you order a proof.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Order a proof and check it. Books are cheap but
because I live in Australia, postage is the biggest cost. It also takes a while
since it comes from America. I think it still works out cheaper than most local
printers and I love that I can order just one or two.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Choose marketing options and set up your CS
store. Add a banner, change the font colours and background colours if you want,
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->8.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Add content to your amazon.com page <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid #B8CCE4 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid #B8CCE4 .5pt; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-border-bottom-themetint: 102; mso-border-bottom-themetint: 102; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 2.0pt 0cm;">
<h4>
ISBN’s and bar codes<o:p></o:p></h4>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->9.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->CreateSpace can supply a free ISBN but I
recommend that you buy your own ISBN & bar code. You will then hold the
rights and can market your book anywhere.<span lang="EN"> Bookstores will only stock your book if it has your own ISBN. </span>You
can also use another publisher or can sell it to be translated in another
country. <span lang="EN">Without your own ISBN you
are stuck with Amazon on-line sales only</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->10.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Apply
for an ISBN from Bowker. In Australia you can get them from <a href="http://www.thorpe.com.au/isbn/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">http://www.thorpe.com.au/isbn/</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->11.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span lang="EN">Ten ISBN numbers cost much less than buying one at a time. If you know you will be
writing more than one book, the supplier will keep them for you and send them
to you as you need them. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->12.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN">You
do not need to pay for a barcode as CS will print it when you give them the
number </span><span lang="EN"> </span><span lang="EN">Note; You cannot have two different ISBN
in the same book (i.e. you cannot have your own and a free one from
CreateSpace)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<span lang="EN-US">If you have an Australian ISBN, then when your book is printed you will need to send a physical
copy of your book to;<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
Legal
Deposit Unit<br />
National Library of Australia<br />
Canberra ACT 2600<o:p></o:p><br />
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Note; this is a legal requirement<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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If you want more information on formatting your book for
CreateSpace, there is plenty on the site. It is not as hard as the above makes
it sound and there are options all along the way for paying someone else to do things
if you get stuck. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I do have some more information about the formatting I used,
so if you want a copy, just <a href="mailto:ahwong@xtra.co.nz" target="_blank">email me</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I have really enjoyed putting together this week’s series of
things I learned from writing my memoir. I hope you have enjoyed it too. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Good luck with your writing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Juice ITC"; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-59419663823057835712013-10-13T16:49:00.000+10:002013-10-13T16:49:00.720+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Part seven - Edit, edit, and edit again)This week is the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I am writing a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is part seven.<br />
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<b>7. Edit, edit, and edit again </b></div>
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<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EdtPYVp8BkThf_D_RlprWs471oc0xqmHKDVrr6JS4bM0q4WXDAzynDsjTatevrHPVa8Bj_ahLl_37GRIn_OpoC-z4iRRIMRZP4fY7FXmJrITF6nNyfP1ndTRmTpLgbMGeIBKHo52IpU/s1600/memoir+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EdtPYVp8BkThf_D_RlprWs471oc0xqmHKDVrr6JS4bM0q4WXDAzynDsjTatevrHPVa8Bj_ahLl_37GRIn_OpoC-z4iRRIMRZP4fY7FXmJrITF6nNyfP1ndTRmTpLgbMGeIBKHo52IpU/s320/memoir+7.jpg" width="284" /></a></b></div>
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I have noticed a worrying trend for books to have spelling
mistakes in them, even when they have been published by a company. Usually
there is just one, but sometimes books have many mistakes. I have read two
recently where there was a crucial mistake was on the first page. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It really makes a book look cheap and unprofessional.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I consider myself a good proof-reader of others work and I
always use the computers spell check and grammar check when I write, but even
though I read my first book over at least four times before I published it,
there were many embarrassing mistakes in the first version. I wrote about this in a previous blog called <a href="http://housesittinginaustralia.blogspot.com.au/2011/12/new-book-proves-it-i-know-proper.html" target="_blank">"New book proves it, I know the proper English."</a>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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There were missing words, and extra words. There were
missing commas, and extra commas. I read what I thought I wrote instead of what
was on the page.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As a writer you need as much help as you can get to
proof-read your work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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For my second book I had Karen from <a href="http://www.eyeproof.co.nz/" target="_blank">EyeProof </a>read it over
and she found a similar plethora of mistakes but this time I was able to
correct them before I published.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It is so easy to miss things in your own writing, and so
important to have as many people look at it as possible. Or you could hire a
professional like Karen for a reasonable fee.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It might also be helpful to have an editor look at it. I
used the editing service on CreateSpace and for few hundred dollars I got six
pages of really helpful feedback. <o:p></o:p></div>
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If you are submitting your book to a publisher you will be
one of hundreds, if not thousands, vying for the publisher’s attention and a
well edited book will improve your chances of being read and then picked up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you are self-publishing, then you still want your book to
look professional. A good editor will help. Here are the two links I use and one blog post you might find useful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://swww.createspace.com/pub/services.home.do?tab=EDITING" target="_blank">Editing service</a> through CreateSpace </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://www.eyeproof.co.nz/" target="_blank">Eyeproof </a>for seriously good proof-reading from a friend of mine</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://%28%20i%20have%20tips%20on%20setting%20up%20your%20spell%20checker%20here%20%22crucial%20tips%20for%20spell%20checking%20your%20writing.%22%29/" target="_blank">My blog about how to set up your spell and grammar checker .</a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Tommorrow. I am posting a bonus blog with some tips I discovered about setting up and using CreateSpace to self publish.</i></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-68353420253828750352013-10-12T16:34:00.000+10:002013-10-12T16:34:00.559+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Part six - Write with Passion)<div class="MsoNormal">
This week is the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I am writing a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is part six.</div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>6. Write with Passion </b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I once read that the first thing a publisher notices about
any book is whether the author is passionate about their writing or not. It shows
through in each sentence and helps the words come alive. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I think readers can tell too. If you don’t love what you
write, why would a reader love it? <o:p></o:p></div>
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Here are some ideas for putting more passion into your
writing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>1. Write about something you are passionate about.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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You may have heard that you should write about what you know
(and if you are writing a memoir about yourself I should hope you do know your
subject) but just as importantly you should write something you are passionate
about.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Your life could be really interesting but only if you are
interested in it. If you write about something you think readers will be
interested in but that bores you then it probably won’t work. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Look for the interesting details in your life; the colour,
the sparkle, the hopes, the disappointments, the hard times, and the good. What
makes you happy, or miserable, or even angry?
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>2. Only write when you are feeling inspired</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Sometimes I will sit at my computer and write until I feel
inspired, but some days it doesn’t work. Sometimes I spend hours editing a
piece only to find that the first version had more energy and was more readable
because it was written when I was more excited about the story.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If the words are not coming, take a break, go for a walk,
clear your head, and start again. When I am feeling inspired I can write all
day and I enjoy what I write. When I am not feeling inspired for any reason
then I will have to do something else like formatting my book or working on
marketing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>3. Live a life worth writing about</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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This one is kind of obvious: Live life with passion. Even
writers need to get out and see the world, especially if you want to write a
follow up. <o:p></o:p></div>
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A good memoir has stories in it that are, well … memorable.
Your life may have been miserable, or outstanding; full of chaos, or full of
happy surprises. Focus on the stories that will surprise and write about them
with passion. Explain each story in enough detail that your reader can picture
it in their mind. Give the reader the full experience by adding enough detail
and description; enough colour, texture, and sound. Make it come alive. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Then make sure you continue to live a passionate life. One
that inspires you so you can write with passion about yourself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For my next adventure I am planning a sailing trip around
the Pacific. Now that it something I am passionate about.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tomorrows Blog: Editing your Work</i><o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-63884246447686666162013-10-11T16:30:00.000+10:002013-10-11T16:30:02.986+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Part five - It's in the details)<div class="MsoNormal">
This week is the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I am writing a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is part five.</div>
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<b>5. Leave out the boring details</b></div>
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I was born in Malta and moved to New Zealand with my family
when I was three years old. I went to Paekakariki School, and then my family moved
to Tawa where we lived for six years. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Are you bored yet?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Would you like me to tell you how many brothers and sisters
I have? Do you want to know the names of my pets or the whereabouts of my
grandparents? How about what day I wash my hair?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now that’s just silly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A memoir is not an excuse to write everything that happens
in your life, blow by blow. Every story in your book should have a reason to be
there. It could show the reader more about you as a person. It could be an
insight into your family dynamics. It could be funny, or crazy, or even tragic.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Having an overall story for your book, a subtle message, and
a suitable tone, is a good start. It will provide a framework and help you
decide what to put in and what to leave out. When I edited my book, I left out
some stories I thought were really good because they did not fit in with the
overall message and tone of my book. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I remember reading the story of one of the most amazing and
inspiring people I had ever seen in a video. His energy and enthusiasm were infectious
and I loved him but I found the book about him just plain boring. There was no
insight into him or his personality, just a series of not particularly
inspiring events that happened in his life. I was so disappointed. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the little tricks I used in my books was to cut out
some unnecessary information that slowed the story down. Rather than have lots
of filler sentences like “a few months later” or “another time” or “the next
time I was out on my bike,” I sometimes used creative licence and wrote as if
the events happened on the same day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It helped the stories flow well, and no one really cares
when they happened since my stories are not consecutive anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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If you are writing for the public then you should try a
little harder to make each story a solid contribution to the books overall
theme. If you find that too much work then you have another option. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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You could write your book for family and friends. They may
be fascinated to know where you were born and what school you went to. They
might even want to know the names of all your childhood pets. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That is a perfectly valid reason to write a book.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
PS One of the articles that inspired me when I was editing
my book was an article by Abigail Thomas and featured on Oprah.com. She has
some really good ideas about how to start writing a memoir and what to say. You
can <a href="http://www.oprah.com/omagazine/How-to-Write-Your-Memoir-by-Abigail-Thomas/1#ixzz1k1uAmdU8" target="_blank">visit the article by clicking here.</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tomorrows blog: Write with Passion and Enthusiasm</i><o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-73530092361331435432013-10-10T16:25:00.000+10:002013-10-10T16:25:00.604+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Part four - Who is your audience?)This week is the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I am writing a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is part four.<br />
<br />
<b>4. Who is your audience?</b><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Before you put pen to paper, you should consider who you
hope will pick up your book and read it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When you know your audience, you have a better idea what
they want from your book. Knowing your audience can help you every step of the
writing process.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Having a typical reader in mind allows you to check your
writing. If you can picture someone reading your book, it will help you as you
decide what to put in and what to leave out. For both my books, I cut almost as
much out of the book as I left it. I pictured my reader sitting there and
realised that some parts of the story were just filler. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe you can test your finished book out on some people
from your target group before you publish or submit to a professional publisher.
Later you will have a better idea how to market your book when you know your
typical reader.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For example, if a book is written for teens, you might have
more success marketing on Facebook. If it is for older adults, you might have
more success meeting groups of people at library or service group presentations.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my case I want to share my stories with other women
moving into the “empty nest” stage of life. I hope to motivate people who want
to get out into the world and do something different but are not sure how. Now I know to advertise where older women gather. I can
picture my typical reader and speak directly to her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Deciding your audience early on does not mean a teenager
will not pick up your book about your life in the fifties, or an older person
won’t identify with the story of your first teen romance. One of my first fans
was my brother-in-law who read my book in one sitting and then came back with
some complimentary comments. I never thought about a man reading my book.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When you have your message, your story, and the tone of your
work, then it will probably lead to your audience. If not, choose one. It is
much easier to write a book for one group. If you try to make it please
everyone it will be tough. Do you leave out profanity or will your readers
expect it? What about modern jargon, such as text speak or computer jargon?
Will your readers understand it or should you explain? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Not everyone will love your book and that is okay. Not even
the most famous authors in the world are loved by everyone. But if you have a
target audience, and you know who you hope will pick up your book, you have a great place to start when writing, editing, and marketing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
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<i>Tomorrow’s blog: Lose the boring details.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-34267331634216904092013-10-09T16:21:00.000+10:002013-10-09T16:21:00.151+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Part three - The Tone)<div class="MsoNormal">
This week is the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I am writing a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is part three.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>3. Watch your Tone</b></div>
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Whether your book is serious or funny will depend on the
tone you use. The tone of your book is a combination of the stories you write,
your interpretation of events, and the way you put words together. To some
extent the tone of your book will depend on who you are and on your voice as a
writer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How you write can depend on where you are in your life, your
education, your life experiences, and your values. It is often a reflection of
who you are as a person, but you should still be aware of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Is your book full of deep philosophical meaning and thought
or is it a light humorous read? Will you dig deep into the reasons why things
happened or just pass over them lightly?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most readers will expect to get to know you by reading your
book. You should give readers enough information to feel a connection with you.
That may mean talking about your hopes and dreams, or revealing your failings. Allow
readers to know you as a person and don’t try to act too perfect or be so
modest you sound boring. Readers want to relate to you and can only do so if
you are open enough about who you are. My failures are some of the most
memorable stories in my books. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Write about yourself as you really are, not as you want to
be remembered. It is okay to reveal some weakness. It may even help others
relate to your story better.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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My books were written to be a light-hearted escapist read. I
wanted readers to immerse themselves in the adventure that was my life and
hopefully finish the book feeling better about themselves and about the world. <o:p></o:p></div>
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You may have a more measured approach, or want to reveal
more inner details and that can work too, as long as you are true to yourself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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When writing, you have to take care of how you come across.
Try not to be preachy, condescending, or self-righteous. You can only inject
tone by the words you use. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The best way I found to check your tone is to read it out
loud as if you were telling the story to a friend, or you could even read it to
a friend. Does it set the right tone? If you feel you have to explain anything
then you might need to write more. If it seems long winded then cut the story
down.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Setting the right tone is just as important in writing as it
is in speech. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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<i>Tomorrow’s blog: Who is your audience?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-8002794122757822342013-10-08T16:15:00.000+10:002013-10-08T16:15:01.103+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Part two - The Message)This week is the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I am writing a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is part two.<br />
<br />
<b>2. What is your Message?</b><br />
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<br />
<br />
What is the message of your memoir? How do you hope it will
touch people? What would you like people to feel after reading your book?
Happy? Motivated? Glad they are not you?<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your book may be a collection of stories but there should be
something to tie them together, something that makes your whole book
interesting, unique, and worth reading. You should have a story to tie it
together but your story should also have an overall message or meaning.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Like most people, I found divorce and job loss depressing
and scary, but they were also blessings in disguise. My marriage had been
failing for years and my job had changed from challenging to stifling. Leaving
both opened up my life to new possibilities.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The sky seemed clearer and brighter, my heart seemed lighter
and free, and anything started to seem possible. <o:p></o:p></div>
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That is what I wanted to tell by writing my memoir. Life can
be awesome. Change can absolutely be the catalyst for something better. I hope
people enjoy the stories of my year house sitting but the overall message in my
books is one of hope. Hope that challenges can be overcome and life can be even
better after tragedy and sadness. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Have you considered your overall message? While your book,
like your life, will take many twists and turns, you should consider its
overall impact. Are you hoping to connect with your reader, motivate them, or
shock them? When someone finishes your memoir, do you want them to feel
inspired, relieved, or hopeful?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here are a few messages other have used. “Love conquers all,”
“Persistence pays off,” and “”ordinary people can have amazing lives.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Somewhere early in your writing, you might like to consider
your message. Knowing why you are writing your memoir will help you answer the
biggest question of all that your potential readers will have. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p>Why should I read your book?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> Tomorrows blog:
Setting the Tone</i><o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-63416755854649983302013-10-07T16:09:00.000+10:002013-10-07T16:09:35.081+10:00Seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir (Part one- The Story)This week is the Queensland Writers Festival and as my tiny contribution, I am writing a post a day in a series called seven things I learned from writing and publishing my memoir. This is part one.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XmhZVp8WaozXd11zZtZ8A7mAliTRpGuVLa-Os7vlccJMSC_3FjGoUm_EfiYWRq1IeHwnRetp0JsJHLOFCzpkAJQauKGfDXdJVc752o6toQMpkFPP1g227HsQHo5P_CNi9NyMqyz82dc/s1600/memoir+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XmhZVp8WaozXd11zZtZ8A7mAliTRpGuVLa-Os7vlccJMSC_3FjGoUm_EfiYWRq1IeHwnRetp0JsJHLOFCzpkAJQauKGfDXdJVc752o6toQMpkFPP1g227HsQHo5P_CNi9NyMqyz82dc/s320/memoir+1.jpg" width="284" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>1. You need to have a story.</b><br />
<br />
Before you begin work on that great world-changing novel that is your life story, there are three crucial things to consider; story, message, and tone. Today’s blog is about the story.<br />
<br />
Like most people, I began my memoir with the stories, but it I had almost finished the first draft when I realised that it was incomplete. It was full of good stories but there was nothing holding it together. There was no reason why anyone would pick it up.<br />
<br />
I am not famous enough to attract readers just because of who I am. I needed an overall story that would attract readers. My book would sit on the shelf with some amazing memoirs and there had to be something that would draw people to my book; one overarching story that would connect all the stories into one cohesive whole.<br />
<br />
I needed a purpose for my book.<br />
<br />
While life is still in progress, it can be hard to decide how to structure your book. Where will you start and where will you finish? What do all the stories of your life have I common? How should you put them together?<br />
<br />
My theory is that it should be as much like a novel as possible.<br />
<br />
The beginning needs to set the tone, introduce the characters, and make people want to read on.<br />
Unless you were born in a life-raft after your family boat sank in a storm, it is probably best not to start with your birth. After all everyone is born and there is nothing in that to make the reader curious about the rest of your book.<br />
<br />
Start with a noteworthy event, or even a bit of drama. This will hook the reader in. You can even start at the end. I began my first book with an idyllic day in the life of a house sitter, and then went on to explain in the rest of the book how I got to that perfect day.<br />
<br />
The end needs to tie things up nicely and provide a satisfying conclusion of some sort.<br />
<br />
In my book the overall story is one of a life changed forever. I begin my story as a regular working mother and end as a sort of housesitting gypsy living large on a tiny budget and having the most amazing adventures.<br />
Most people prefer a positive approach and a happy ending. That doesn’t mean you can’t have a sad story, just that people need a reason to read through to the end. How did you overcome that tragedy? How did you beat the odds? How did you find meaning in your life after devastating loss?<br />
<br />
Unless you choose to write your memoir as a simple collection of stories, there should be an attention grabbing beginning and a satisfying end.<br />
<br />
In between, there could be drama and tension, problems and predicaments, or humour and silliness. Try to vary the pace and introduce some elements of the unexpected. Give people a reason to read on at every page, and especially at the end of each chapter.<br />
<br />
I learned a lot from my first book and could have done better, but I am particularly happy when people tell me that they read it in one sitting. It means they found something in it worth finishing.<br />
<br />
That is the highest praise of all.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-69805539584823803342013-09-24T15:28:00.000+10:002013-09-24T15:28:39.281+10:00Lessons from an Antique Hair Dryer<div class="MsoNormal">
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My hair dryer is so last century . It is sunshine orange with chocolate brown trim, the same colours as the wallpaper on my childhood home,.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It was purchased in the seventies. A time when I wore a pink and purple
pant suit to school and shoes with the two inch platform soles to town. It has
outlasted both the suit and the shoes by thirty four years. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixj281v1WfbchK_hcQowz6uugu1OcvYRNRBDaT6yEH4fjthCELmBscFd0zlsVf1-kCVu7qnqCy6_Z39ttKKoOjG-fDDXrDACR8p5-yzl3LBNw2JlMqLbADRFyMUE0coU5tKVH3Ip26R3Q/s1600/The+Orange+Hair+Dryer+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixj281v1WfbchK_hcQowz6uugu1OcvYRNRBDaT6yEH4fjthCELmBscFd0zlsVf1-kCVu7qnqCy6_Z39ttKKoOjG-fDDXrDACR8p5-yzl3LBNw2JlMqLbADRFyMUE0coU5tKVH3Ip26R3Q/s200/The+Orange+Hair+Dryer+2.jpg" width="200" /></a>Like the energiser bunny, it has soldiered on and on;
through years of intermittent use, and times of neglect. I have never been
unfaithful to my hair dryer, no other hair dryer has graced my home, but I did abandon
it in storage when I set out house sitting for two and a half years. Perhaps it
was offended. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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When I brought it out and started using it again, it stopped
working. My husband offered to fix it, and by golly he did. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In electronic small goods terms, my hair dryer is an ancient
relic, built in a time when things were designed to be repaired instead of to
die right after the warranty wore out. To my hairdressers astonished disbelief,
my hair dryer has screws you can open to see the inner workings, and functioning
parts you can understand. Not a single microchip in sight. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Sadly the repair didn’t
last.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My hair dryer has followed me through six children, three countries,
and two marriages, but now it seems it has breathed its last. My no nonsense,
no frills, plain-Jane, maker of hot air, is gone and I am sad.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It was a rare constant in the ever changing landscape of my
life. It lasted longer than my first marriage. Now it is time to throw it away
and I am tempted to keep it as a souvenir.</div>
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<br /></div>
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That would be a mistake.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It can be hard to get rid of old things, but after two years
living out of a few small suitcases, I realise that “things” are not important.
I don’t need a hair dryer just because everyone has one, or even because it
would be useful. I am reminded of three things I learned from house sitting with
so few things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>1. There is a freedom in owning fewer “things.”</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the great things about house sitting is that you can
live very simply with just a few personal items. For almost a year I lived out
of two back packs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I carried just enough clothes to last between a few wash
days, toiletry needs, a tiny torch and small first aid kit, a phone, a camera,
and my laptop.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was so much freedom in owning so few things. I felt I
had left my worries behind with my worldly goods. Owning less is liberating.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>2. More possessions mean more work.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owning more items means more tidying, rearranging, and
moving things around. It means less space and more cleaning. Clutter can create
worry. Broken items can create stress. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also believe that if you want new experiences and
adventure to flow into your life, you should not have too many items cluttering
up your space.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>3. Letting go does not have to be painful.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here are a few suggestions for ridding yourself of items
like my almost antique hair dryer</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Take a photo of the item to keep instead <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Hold a ceremony to celebrate getting rid of it, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Find a new home and recycle it (Any museums need
a broken 70’s hair dryer?)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Then think carefully before you replace it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 50.2pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<br /><!--[if !supportLists]--></div>
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<span style="text-indent: -24px;">Instead of replacing it, I will continue to let my hair dry naturally and</span> keep my money for my upcoming holiday. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Where am
I going you say? Well that is going to be the subject of another post but I
will give you a hint. It is a sunny group of islands close to the equator.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Until next time, happy, safe, and cheap, travels.</div>
<o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-70012148961027877692013-08-23T15:07:00.001+10:002013-08-23T15:07:29.570+10:00Housesitting in ... Samoa?<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">If you are looking for somewhere exotic, and off the beaten track, you could visit the small island of Samoa. It is a postcard pretty tropical paradise, and a secret well-kept even by the Samoans, most of whom seem to have moved to America, Australia, or New Zealand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Each time I visit Samoa, I am overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells. First there is the hot humid air. It envelopes you as soon as you get off the plane and continues to feel like a warm sauna for the whole visit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then there is the perfume of fragrant tropical flowers and the savoury aroma of a thousand cooking fires, as if every family in the country is eating outside, and perhaps they are.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vmnKIv944txDBp8ZHLnIreje2NgygPGH-fj__DcD5_If2hfmZV8Oar4pafXnm8mG1tdM6HncOoG3yt55Oxp3GAso-kg3sgK_d9Im22jcrrUE9FDO3uRvPF6csMtapiSbDPST55WMo8U/s1600/Samoan+House+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" qsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vmnKIv944txDBp8ZHLnIreje2NgygPGH-fj__DcD5_If2hfmZV8Oar4pafXnm8mG1tdM6HncOoG3yt55Oxp3GAso-kg3sgK_d9Im22jcrrUE9FDO3uRvPF6csMtapiSbDPST55WMo8U/s320/Samoan+House+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Villages dot one side of the road from the airport to town. Some are clusters of low weatherboard style homes, and others a mixture of the modern with the traditional fale. (Samoan for house) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Although they look like something the rich use for shade by the swimming pool, people still live in these low budget homes. Wooden poles hold up a coconut fibre lined roof or more recently, a rusty tin roof. Inside the floor is raised to allow air to flow underneath and the walls offer the ultimate in air conditioning; because there are no walls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">From the road you can see, families inside going about their day, especially at night when they light lanterns or maybe turn on the one light bulb and sit in front of the inevitable TV. Every home seems to have a television, and it is the American channels they are watching and the American culture these families have been soaking up for decades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No wonder so many leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">On the other side of the road from the airport to town, is the ocean, placid sparkling blue protected by the inner reef. Palm trees lean out across the shore providing shade and beauty and an almost continuous opportunity for stunning beach photos. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I first moved to Samoa with my fiancée when I was just nineteen, and suddenly became aware that I knew very little about how others lived. I was mesmerised by the beauty and horrified by the practicalities of living there. I had never considered that people I knew had grown up, and were often still living, without inside toilets, hot water, or garbage trucks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We spent most of our time with family who were comparatively well off. They had windows and doors, an inside shower and toilet, and a kitchen with a real sink, but even they did not have hot water or a fridge. I hardly noticed the lack of hot water since almost every moment was spent in trying to cool down, but the lack of the fridge meant no milk, no crisp vegetables, no cold drinks, and even worse, no ice cream. You could buy these things but not store them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I have been back to Samoa several times since that first visit, and things haven’t changes that much and that is part of its charm. It is still relaxed, tropical, fragrant, steamy, and charming. Well worth a visit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And that brings me to house sitting. Can you house sit in Samoa?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Probably not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Most Samoans have big families so if they go away there is often still a family member nearby to help look after the home. Samoans are unlikely to want an outsider to look after their home and I do not know of any agency that will help. They don’t usually need someone to look after their pets either. The dogs often scavenge for food and even the pigs wander free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You might find a house sit if you have enough Samoan friends, but it would be as unlikely the proverbial chicken with a full set of teeth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Don’t let that put you off a visit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FfzObtLYrO13nh3ZoFLUHNc4_6tNPt5yjAQojEObLhDQl0XDMdrapDReseccDtgqcjLPElJPcxVSL0ZpPS7DW7efGDa4fnEXZ-uvHIYSQQ46I3l-8QU9yT_dbzTflOsLyH2vOAKOJcM/s1600/Samoan+Fruit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="103" qsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FfzObtLYrO13nh3ZoFLUHNc4_6tNPt5yjAQojEObLhDQl0XDMdrapDReseccDtgqcjLPElJPcxVSL0ZpPS7DW7efGDa4fnEXZ-uvHIYSQQ46I3l-8QU9yT_dbzTflOsLyH2vOAKOJcM/s200/Samoan+Fruit.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Last time I was there I went swimming with some very large turtles in someone’s back yard. I went sliding down a natural rock formation in the cool inland river, and swam in a natural rock pool with its own cave. I even spent several tranquil hours at the beach made famous for the movie “Return to Paradise.” I sampled unusual fruit and marvelled at unusual sea creatures. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnFJbN-8y4zWKX1ot3MARqngbtKmO8lOZr8MmOdUZeCYbpQ5bYzW4aIA-WUHSd-FuGBhenC8qJFTfWui-n17HHVy1HZRcjXrJa0rNMEp72TS9aPxe9wrObL_o3HcP97igGqnrJADob65k/s1600/Samoan+Sea+Creatures.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" qsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnFJbN-8y4zWKX1ot3MARqngbtKmO8lOZr8MmOdUZeCYbpQ5bYzW4aIA-WUHSd-FuGBhenC8qJFTfWui-n17HHVy1HZRcjXrJa0rNMEp72TS9aPxe9wrObL_o3HcP97igGqnrJADob65k/s320/Samoan+Sea+Creatures.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">There is lots to do and see and if you spend some time in the smaller villages and less time inside an air conditioned hotel, you might even get that ‘part of the community’ feeling that house sitting brings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lzXIlDd6K6MBdZ8cSF9F4maXUYSKYKn0wwrSXH5LxtMgzP0ZEkLlgjsocMiIYsUuGVtIClSfnR9letG5JY_GFmVivsdLsIiIdfBukl-GPE3vmwcjzI84jtNxuep6Qk825NHjpIet-yI/s1600/Samoan+Street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99" qsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lzXIlDd6K6MBdZ8cSF9F4maXUYSKYKn0wwrSXH5LxtMgzP0ZEkLlgjsocMiIYsUuGVtIClSfnR9letG5JY_GFmVivsdLsIiIdfBukl-GPE3vmwcjzI84jtNxuep6Qk825NHjpIet-yI/s200/Samoan+Street.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">And if you can’t house sit in Samoa, what about Queensland? The weather is warm in winter and tropical in summer. In Queensland there are less coconut trees but just as many white sand beaches. There is more hot water, and almost as much chance of meeting a Samoan as you there is in Samoa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And if you are really lucky, you might find a house sit in Samoa Rd. It is right between Tahiti Rd and Tonga St. That would be very nice too. </span></div>
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Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-91351703162503734772013-07-01T20:15:00.000+10:002013-07-01T20:15:00.524+10:00Pig Racing and Climbing Potatoes; All the fun of the Fair<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The Redcliffe fair was a big event taking up several football field sized fields over three days, but I went there purely for the pig racing. The pig racing was much smaller than I expected but just as much fun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As I arrived, seven little piglets grazed noisily, noses buried in the straw and the damp grass of the large square pen.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3U7TZr9CFOA5KKlnN1zSml_MlXDch07p1tEYpZdsgWPlNoXz-21UueZEEM_5Fk96zbo_bHg-_bKGPoJ8gIgngtdim4QA_y4h4iT8AJofaG_bv-Np_s248LCklRbnt4uk7kTIFbTet2-g/s675/9.Racing+Pigs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3U7TZr9CFOA5KKlnN1zSml_MlXDch07p1tEYpZdsgWPlNoXz-21UueZEEM_5Fk96zbo_bHg-_bKGPoJ8gIgngtdim4QA_y4h4iT8AJofaG_bv-Np_s248LCklRbnt4uk7kTIFbTet2-g/s320/9.Racing+Pigs.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Each was probably chosen for their markings. They were white, grey, brown, and black, most with speckles and spots. To make sure we knew who was who, (and presumably avoid questions like “Did you mean the brown pig with grey spots or the grey pig with black spots?”) they were also wearing glittery pig jackets in bright colours like aqua, emerald, and pink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Before the race started, children in the crowd gave them names like Crackle, Rumplepigskin, and BLT Special. Families bought tickets and the seven winners were chosen to take part and assigned a coloured pig.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I didn’t have a ticket, but I liked the green one because it looked lean enough to run the fastest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The pigs were less than a foot high and looked too little to race, but perhaps because it was the last race of the day, when the sound of a racing bugle split the air, they were at the starting gate lightning fast. I wondered what was in the tub at the end that was so appealing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Finally with as much fanfare as possible, and a loud countdown, the door was open and the race began. The pigs raced through the obstacle course of tyres and hay bales on my side, pushed open the gate and ran along the back lane. Another gate on the third side led to a last run, then back into the pen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The green pig was first back to the main pen, but he snuffled around the stacked hay bales while several other pigs made the finishing climb to the food tub and began to inhale the food they found there. The red pig was declared the winner. I wondered if the fat little red pig was more motivated by food than the lean green pig.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0y9UiZYIuBd1mkWURIKvTxd1dlddbYHGvbcyywsPPp6RJCGh5G1Oo1Cai4qp8wLYjI8i92TKy2uAx3qVK-3mm1pAIWQQgpPQ3kECzizuB2lHNHednqr9e11_TtacNW2iDExXSqmNkuWg/s761/9.Racing+Pigs+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0y9UiZYIuBd1mkWURIKvTxd1dlddbYHGvbcyywsPPp6RJCGh5G1Oo1Cai4qp8wLYjI8i92TKy2uAx3qVK-3mm1pAIWQQgpPQ3kECzizuB2lHNHednqr9e11_TtacNW2iDExXSqmNkuWg/s320/9.Racing+Pigs+2.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">While the owner of the winning ticket went up to collect their prize, I watched the piglets as they went back to grazing. They still looked hungry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">When I finally tore myself away from the piglets, I found much more to enjoy. The Redcliffe fair was busy, even on a cool winter Friday. There were scores of rides from the death defying mechanical arm with the high pitched siren, to the more sedate kiddy rides. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">There were all the usual shooting games, and catch the duck games, and at least six neon show booths selling shiny bags filled with every kind of plastic toy and candy bar. I watched motorbikes, stock cars, and two men with chain saws compete to cut through large wooden logs, and I also I spent a lot of time in the craft, food, and gardening booths taking photos.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Here are some of my favourite.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQxariK3I2dvlc2BKapdChryo4DbBVycaLVlF7WpNH3LPwHGDTXpwdSPd2NYHXECiniB-SNpD4sM7bASNrpnd3uJAJA7a_FS2xHh2GmC7vgdnpVeXL_y8hUslPlKDTcK6wgMAQiHywX4/s754/9.+cake+1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQxariK3I2dvlc2BKapdChryo4DbBVycaLVlF7WpNH3LPwHGDTXpwdSPd2NYHXECiniB-SNpD4sM7bASNrpnd3uJAJA7a_FS2xHh2GmC7vgdnpVeXL_y8hUslPlKDTcK6wgMAQiHywX4/s320/9.+cake+1.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p>There were funky hat cakes</o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsTEdFq3YfHo0OFTuNJ96vbvLp1tjA-o03fF7AayEc4CGOC0oUdcA4OyjU0TOy8YdCdXnchgcgAhmhTT8rzGAETggdBD7HXV5xfaTEoMQqmAly_nXXjUlqw1PCbT1As5mIK-sk5GMXYE/s675/9.+cake+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsTEdFq3YfHo0OFTuNJ96vbvLp1tjA-o03fF7AayEc4CGOC0oUdcA4OyjU0TOy8YdCdXnchgcgAhmhTT8rzGAETggdBD7HXV5xfaTEoMQqmAly_nXXjUlqw1PCbT1As5mIK-sk5GMXYE/s320/9.+cake+2.jpg" width="239" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p>and freaky skull cakes. Um yes.... I think you can eat this</o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2OlyziqHwLg38dSteCbr-yv9dUc12DoKIBQAT96JcXntb95TmabJoWva4vE7TSAqbNI_jADsuNkWlsgd7cn9fci0wYoFa3mIDlXS2ccuNRj-CEoUcoaX-3WiAoFcbpgQcE06vGQGP81Q/s754/9.+Quilted+Queenslander.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2OlyziqHwLg38dSteCbr-yv9dUc12DoKIBQAT96JcXntb95TmabJoWva4vE7TSAqbNI_jADsuNkWlsgd7cn9fci0wYoFa3mIDlXS2ccuNRj-CEoUcoaX-3WiAoFcbpgQcE06vGQGP81Q/s320/9.+Quilted+Queenslander.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Beautiful Quilting</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqm5lt906Bs98heezThzf0lBzY7vxJ8PAc9eMrF-yktSmlyvdyrVitXrpDTXhCZi9SdOiSaLPvw_-YNcWHeUbiFOmaCKI88qUJw19LN6BeI8IM-SrR4lv2RfPNW89zk5kz1L2nJzuSqNk/s857/9.+prize+winning+ginger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqm5lt906Bs98heezThzf0lBzY7vxJ8PAc9eMrF-yktSmlyvdyrVitXrpDTXhCZi9SdOiSaLPvw_-YNcWHeUbiFOmaCKI88qUJw19LN6BeI8IM-SrR4lv2RfPNW89zk5kz1L2nJzuSqNk/s320/9.+prize+winning+ginger.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">and ugly (but prize-winningly large) ginger tubers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I bought fudge, honey, a pumpkin peeler, and more fudge, but the best thing I went home with might have been the New Zealand potatoes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I was admiring some large purple prize winning tubers in the gardening section. They looked like knobbly stones and came in odd shapes like kidney, and almost triangle. When the owner told me they were from New Zealand, I was dumbfounded. I am from New Zealand and have never seen them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So after a long discussion, the owner offered me several to try. Now I have three purple potatoes on my windowsill and if I treat them right, then I am going to have potatoes that grow up a vine. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEf00bkIpk1asZQNgvEYs99opw69EB2StqrHG9iB5SfrQzglBpELvjsEgjBflB79QjsUYAO6PLS8Gc4ls1XSg7IDj04ILLlLK17eGTpXa7SfSocfKVoDRWS54rJzF2h5o-S2reuW-eTY/s730/9.+Potatoes+not+Stones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEf00bkIpk1asZQNgvEYs99opw69EB2StqrHG9iB5SfrQzglBpELvjsEgjBflB79QjsUYAO6PLS8Gc4ls1XSg7IDj04ILLlLK17eGTpXa7SfSocfKVoDRWS54rJzF2h5o-S2reuW-eTY/s320/9.+Potatoes+not+Stones.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Isn’t life amazing? I can't wait to see how potatoes look on a vine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So what did you do this weekend?</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></o:p></div>
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Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5958492395078452189.post-59753153272321200842013-06-29T19:27:00.000+10:002013-06-29T19:27:02.871+10:00Glowing Graves, Battling Knights, and A Mad Hatters Tea Party; A Day in Lismore<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It was a bright but cool day when I visited Lismore and to make the most of my time, I went looking for geocaches* at a local park, a cemetery and a back alley in town. Yep, all the highlights.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The park was one of the most colourful I have ever seen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It had totems </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTyDoa_wcl2iRB97DERH9odScmp8NeM7Ua_-rmuvpxO9g0OJ9pf-tXJoPozPyje5AWoEx3MTXTOX8t4v_3AeBWrpeeefo__NPktBM2rmYdFDY4_BeApmPkK1xXjyeji1ryeEyiQdqh_w/s617/8+Park+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTyDoa_wcl2iRB97DERH9odScmp8NeM7Ua_-rmuvpxO9g0OJ9pf-tXJoPozPyje5AWoEx3MTXTOX8t4v_3AeBWrpeeefo__NPktBM2rmYdFDY4_BeApmPkK1xXjyeji1ryeEyiQdqh_w/s320/8+Park+3.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">and rainbow coloured displays, </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimjefSsH5KruOp_F8HID_kYGcI7cTziXnW3wy8Gvotz_hYEEPJQs3FnDYTfUUgsY4FpGGay4lZHIlSHKd0mkMPjI0X7TfSyZA7Yrlide7EgEm_0puC05GIB6X9TBDfh2u3mZ2xg5_V3A/s617/8.+Park+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimjefSsH5KruOp_F8HID_kYGcI7cTziXnW3wy8Gvotz_hYEEPJQs3FnDYTfUUgsY4FpGGay4lZHIlSHKd0mkMPjI0X7TfSyZA7Yrlide7EgEm_0puC05GIB6X9TBDfh2u3mZ2xg5_V3A/s320/8.+Park+1.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">and a miniature train that runs on holidays and weekends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As it was a Saturday, the park was busy. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">In contrast the cemetery I went to was small and grey and looked dull, but it did have some great stories to tell</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcgY8aLsCVPVVatWsaJHYVEcnyus2jiOKZWHG3oYUVafI7OMNH9If54DUu25Qv7_qyBrOt7JlnOlf90YPw-KNQ95pAWCJRrqOkyhH6QQf5wDE0zHHAr1K4Yh5bSAV1qdv2xPES4aVwOA/s617/8+cemetery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcgY8aLsCVPVVatWsaJHYVEcnyus2jiOKZWHG3oYUVafI7OMNH9If54DUu25Qv7_qyBrOt7JlnOlf90YPw-KNQ95pAWCJRrqOkyhH6QQf5wDE0zHHAr1K4Yh5bSAV1qdv2xPES4aVwOA/s320/8+cemetery.jpg" width="320" xya="true" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">According to Matty (who hid the geocache there) one of the memorials that used to be there, was for a young railway worker who died trying to stop a runaway train in 1907. It was a cross made of Scottish Balmoral granite and it glowed for many years before going missing, possibly stolen after the story of the glowing cross went worldwide. There was a replacement cross made of the same stone, but it never glowed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I couldn’t find the cross at all, but a modern grave sitting out on its own looked interesting. </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">It said "Warrah" also known as "Neddy Larkin" returned by blood relatives in 2012. </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Using good old Google, I found out that in 1891 a local taxidermist dug up Warrah’s bones and sent them to a museum in the USA for “scientific purposes”. Apparently it was not uncommon for this to happen to aboriginal graves. He was finally returned in 2012, at least ten years after a clerk in the museum found them and offered them back to Australia. ** </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;">After solving the mystery of the grave, I went into town. T</span>o my delight I found I had arrived right in the middle of the celebrations for the winter solstice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The main street was filled with colourful markets, a local park had been taken over by medieval camps, and there was to be a light parade in the evening. Too bad I was leaving early. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">While the main street was busy with hundreds of market goers, I headed for the quiet back alley, behind where they had added portable toilets for the crowds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It was just an access lane for the shops but someone had decorated it with bright murals. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Alice and the Mad Hatter filled one wall and other walls depicted pop art </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In one picture the Cat in the Hat sat near Ronald McDonald and Smurfette. Trash bins, air conditioning units and gas tanks looked out of place among the riot of colour. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I had been to Lismore before but this was the first time I had seen this. Even my husband who lived near here for years before I met him, did not know about it. I love hidden gems like this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I finished my day by visiting the medieval camp in the town park. People in authentic costumes sat outside their skin tents talking and eating food from that era, grain bread, dried apricots and nuts. A pig roasted over a spit, and small fish were drying over a smoky fire. Men in costume taught archery to the kids and then lined up against each other for battle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It was a great day, and I would have liked to have stayed for the finale. I saw some of the floats and the light parade looked like it was going to be exciting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I will just have to go back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*To find out more about geocaches, read “Housesitting in Australia” or visit www. Geocaching.com<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">**Information from the “Koori Mail” newspaper January 1991</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
Nikki Lentferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05337283496778537910noreply@blogger.com0