Gweler isod am y fersiwn Saesneg / SEE BELOW FOR THE ENGLISH VERSION
Mae`r ffidil yn y tô ... am y tro
Yn anffodus, newyddion drwg sydd gennym y tro yma. Ychydig cyn gadael Seland Newydd dechreuodd Nia gael cefn tost (a herc). Wrth deithio drwy Chile fe ddechreuodd wella ychydig ond erbyn cyrraedd Arequipa yn Ne Peru roedd rhaid ymweld a doctor. Ar ôl rhedeg profion fe gadarnhaodd yr arbennigwr fod gan Nia 'slipped disc' a bod angen llawdriniaeth frys arni i wella'r cyflwr. Rydym yn Arequipa ar hyn o bryd yn disgwyl i'n cwmni yswiriant ein hedfan ni gartref - o fewn ychydig ddyddiau gobeithio. Gobeithiwn caiff Nia y driniaeth angenrheidiol yn syth ar ôl dychwelyd ac mae ar hyn o bryd ar ei gorwedd ddydd a nos er mwyn leddfu'r poen. Er hyn mae ei hysbryd yn dda ac yn edrych ymlaen i gymryd y cyfle i ddiweddari'r blog am weddill ein taith. Felly daliwch ymlaen i ddarllen y blog am rhagor o hanesion a'r newyddion diweddaraf.
A spanner in the works
Unfortunately, it is bad news we have for you this time. Shortly before leaving New Zealand, Nia developed a stiff back and a slight limp. Over the counter drugs seemed to improve the condition somewhat whilst traveling through Chile, however, a marathon bus journey from North of Chile to Peru's second city of Arequipa totally finished her off. We consulted medical experts here in Arequipa and after running some tests it was confirmed that Nia is suffering from a slipped disc. The neurosurgeon has advised that Nia requires and urgent operation to rectify the condition and we are currently still in Arequipa waiting for our travel insurance company to fly us home. We hope the necessary surgery will be carried out as soon as possible upon our return home. Nia is currently bed bound to alleviate the pain though her spirit remains high and she is looking forward to up-dating the blog for the rest of our journey. So keep watching this space for more adventures and the latest news.
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
THE COROMANDEL - WEST COAST
The Coromandel Peninsula is the bit that sticks out of the top of North Island to the east of Auckland and the big pointy finger that is Northland. The spine of the Coromandel is densely forested and mountainous and narrow winding roads trace the outline of the coast with its tiny islands. Some of the best beaches and scenery in the north can be found here and it´s little wonder that they escape here in droves from Auckland for the weekend and holidays.
There is a rich gold-mining history here and Coromandel Town where we based ourselves for a week was once a thriving town of more than ten thousand when gold was discovered in them hills. Wages were fabulously high for the day - miners would have been paid 3 pounds a week and the cost of a house in the area averaged at 8 pounds. These days the population is down to a sleepier one thousand and something with a thriving tourist industry with paua, pacific oysters and green-lipped mussels being farmed on old shipwrecks off the coast.
Kauri tree logging was big business on the peninsula for more than 60 years. This beautiful timber was shipped as far as San Francisco for construction and ship building and after Kauri on the coast got scarce, the loggers moved deeper into the bush for timber and built Kauri dams, known as Driving Creeks that used water power to propel the huge logs down to the sea. By the 1930´s the industry had died after virtually none of these magnificent centuries-old trees remained.
We were picked up from the hostel in the pouring rain by the shuttle bus taking us to the start of the Coromandel Coastal Walkway. Peter, our guide, had lived at Aberystwyth for a summer many years ago and recalled such joyous occasions as listening to the town choir singing at the castle on a Sunday night and enjoying a pint on the way home every night from his job as a brickie´s labourer (just the one mind). On the 65km drive to Fletcher Bay and the start of the walkway, the sun came out as Peter told us the tale of an old friend who used to drive wagons along the stretch of road and would quite often have a long wait before being able to return to his depot. His favourite pastime would be propping up road-kill possums with bits of stick, then lodging empty cans between their claws so they looked as if they were just sat on the side of the road enjoying a beer!
The coastal walk was lovely. Pointed in the right direction, off we went on our way to Stony Bay about 10k along the coast where Peter would be waiting to serve afternoon tea about four hours later. The walk started across hilly farmland where the track passed Sugar Loaf Rock and the Pinnacles then into dense bush past waterfalls and caves and lookouts over the trees down to the water. We took side tracks down to three tiny rocky coves along the way and spotted Peter a couple of kilometers from the end, getting tea and muffins ready on the beach. We even got a certificate and a book on the history of the area, written as a community project, for our efforts.
Driving Creek Railway is extraordiary. Each and every length of rail has been bent, shaped and laid by a potter of international fame who just wanted to use the railway as a means of transporting clay from the hillsides of the section he bought a few decades ago for a few dollars. Feats of engineering by this brilliant man who can´t abide sleeves (he cuts them off every shirt he owns as they just get dirty and in the way) takes the train up a track of steep grades, across four trestle bridges, around two spirals, reversing into two double switchbacks and through two tunnels before it finishes at the ´Eyefull Tower´ with superb views of Coromandel Town and the coastline beyond. The track passes through bush and an area of recently planted Kauri trees and pots, sculptures and other strange shapes appear in the undergrowth from time to time. We had been warmly greeted at the ticket ofice when we arrived by a lady who said she´d been expecting us. She was Peter´s wife from the previous day on the coastal walk, who had told her to keep an ear out for the accents!
I am now going to dob-in the BBC. Remember the fly-on-the-wall series Castaway, set on a ´deserted island in the Pacific´? Well Great Barrier Island is the largest island in the Hauraki Gulf just off Auckland. It has a population of 1000 and is easily accessible by boat or plane. It has a wide range of accommodation from which to choose, from hostels to luxury apartments, and the film crew were probably in a hotel room so close to the camp that the could hear the arguments over who stole the last blob of ketchup or sheet of toilet paper. Demand a refund on your licence fees I say.
There is a rich gold-mining history here and Coromandel Town where we based ourselves for a week was once a thriving town of more than ten thousand when gold was discovered in them hills. Wages were fabulously high for the day - miners would have been paid 3 pounds a week and the cost of a house in the area averaged at 8 pounds. These days the population is down to a sleepier one thousand and something with a thriving tourist industry with paua, pacific oysters and green-lipped mussels being farmed on old shipwrecks off the coast.
Kauri tree logging was big business on the peninsula for more than 60 years. This beautiful timber was shipped as far as San Francisco for construction and ship building and after Kauri on the coast got scarce, the loggers moved deeper into the bush for timber and built Kauri dams, known as Driving Creeks that used water power to propel the huge logs down to the sea. By the 1930´s the industry had died after virtually none of these magnificent centuries-old trees remained.
We were picked up from the hostel in the pouring rain by the shuttle bus taking us to the start of the Coromandel Coastal Walkway. Peter, our guide, had lived at Aberystwyth for a summer many years ago and recalled such joyous occasions as listening to the town choir singing at the castle on a Sunday night and enjoying a pint on the way home every night from his job as a brickie´s labourer (just the one mind). On the 65km drive to Fletcher Bay and the start of the walkway, the sun came out as Peter told us the tale of an old friend who used to drive wagons along the stretch of road and would quite often have a long wait before being able to return to his depot. His favourite pastime would be propping up road-kill possums with bits of stick, then lodging empty cans between their claws so they looked as if they were just sat on the side of the road enjoying a beer!
The coastal walk was lovely. Pointed in the right direction, off we went on our way to Stony Bay about 10k along the coast where Peter would be waiting to serve afternoon tea about four hours later. The walk started across hilly farmland where the track passed Sugar Loaf Rock and the Pinnacles then into dense bush past waterfalls and caves and lookouts over the trees down to the water. We took side tracks down to three tiny rocky coves along the way and spotted Peter a couple of kilometers from the end, getting tea and muffins ready on the beach. We even got a certificate and a book on the history of the area, written as a community project, for our efforts.
Driving Creek Railway is extraordiary. Each and every length of rail has been bent, shaped and laid by a potter of international fame who just wanted to use the railway as a means of transporting clay from the hillsides of the section he bought a few decades ago for a few dollars. Feats of engineering by this brilliant man who can´t abide sleeves (he cuts them off every shirt he owns as they just get dirty and in the way) takes the train up a track of steep grades, across four trestle bridges, around two spirals, reversing into two double switchbacks and through two tunnels before it finishes at the ´Eyefull Tower´ with superb views of Coromandel Town and the coastline beyond. The track passes through bush and an area of recently planted Kauri trees and pots, sculptures and other strange shapes appear in the undergrowth from time to time. We had been warmly greeted at the ticket ofice when we arrived by a lady who said she´d been expecting us. She was Peter´s wife from the previous day on the coastal walk, who had told her to keep an ear out for the accents!
I am now going to dob-in the BBC. Remember the fly-on-the-wall series Castaway, set on a ´deserted island in the Pacific´? Well Great Barrier Island is the largest island in the Hauraki Gulf just off Auckland. It has a population of 1000 and is easily accessible by boat or plane. It has a wide range of accommodation from which to choose, from hostels to luxury apartments, and the film crew were probably in a hotel room so close to the camp that the could hear the arguments over who stole the last blob of ketchup or sheet of toilet paper. Demand a refund on your licence fees I say.
Monday, 14 July 2008
OPOTIKI TO TAURANGA - MOKO, TAPU & MANA
After seeing about six people in the two days we spent driving around the East Cape, the busy and cosy hostel at Opotiki was a welcome change, even though the bed was so hard we could have bounced pennies off it! The town is a model of Maori tradition and the main street is lined with the works of master carvers. The Historic & Agricultural Society museum occupies an old general store on a corner in the middle of town and the vast display of bric-a-brac and kiwiana on display was fascinating and worthy of five minutes (with nose pressed against the window) of anybody´s time.
We hold our hands up to yet another walk on the beach - Ohiwa this time, just two minutes after leaving town on our way to Whakatane. It was as captivating as all the others. Whakatane was a lovely colourful little town that reminded me very much of Nelson - it was probably the abundance of craft shops and art galleries. We just happened (ahem...) to come across a fabulous shop that was like an indoor market of the art and craft work of dozens of local artists under one roof - like the Christmas Fair at the Aberystwyth Arts Centre. We bought so much stuff that our next stop was the Post Office to send it all home!
As we walked down the main street we wondered why the road and pavement were rather inconveniently diverted around a large, fenced-off rock. A bit of research revealed that this site is where Maori warriors would once have come to be tattooed with moko and the rock is tapu and therefore inaccessible. Moko are traditional intricate face and body tattoos and each moko contains ancestral and tribal messages specific to the wearer. These messages tell the story of the wearer's family and tribal connections and their status within these social structures. The notion of tapu - complex rules of sacredness and prohibition is essential to Maori belief as is mana - personal spiritual power or prestige. Tapu applies to sacred and/or forbidden objects such as sacred grounds or the possessions of a chief and also to actions prohibited by a tribe. It can be temporary or permanent - canoe builders would have been made tapu in a ceremony prior to starting work. These beliefs are still very much alive in New Zealand today.
Our last stop before reaching Tauranga was Maketu, landing site of the Te Arawa canoe that brought the first settlers to the area from Hawaiki in the 14th century. I nearly fell off the wharf when I saw the hundreds and thousands of beautiful ostrich-foot shells on the beach. Uncle Alun used to tease Anti Ceri saying that she was like ´buwch mewn cae clover´(a cow in a clover field) when let loose in a shop and that was the perfect description for me as I darted around the beach, bobbing up and down, wishing that I had bigger hands and another pocket!
We stayed at Maketu until the crimson sunset then drove on to Tauranga where we needed to find a bed for the night. Remember what I said about places being quieter at this time of year? Well that doesn´t apply when there are two national events taking place in town on a weekend. We were turned away from four places and telephoned another four with no luck and were beginning to think that it would have to be the back seat of the car when we had the last available wooden cabin at a motorcamp on the outskirts of town. It was a wonderful little place with all mod cons and we got to see a whole new breed of people to the usual in the morning - chirpy happy campers wandering out of the shower block in their stripey dressing-gowns and fluffy slippers. What a pleasant change from bleary-eyed backpackers.
We hold our hands up to yet another walk on the beach - Ohiwa this time, just two minutes after leaving town on our way to Whakatane. It was as captivating as all the others. Whakatane was a lovely colourful little town that reminded me very much of Nelson - it was probably the abundance of craft shops and art galleries. We just happened (ahem...) to come across a fabulous shop that was like an indoor market of the art and craft work of dozens of local artists under one roof - like the Christmas Fair at the Aberystwyth Arts Centre. We bought so much stuff that our next stop was the Post Office to send it all home!
As we walked down the main street we wondered why the road and pavement were rather inconveniently diverted around a large, fenced-off rock. A bit of research revealed that this site is where Maori warriors would once have come to be tattooed with moko and the rock is tapu and therefore inaccessible. Moko are traditional intricate face and body tattoos and each moko contains ancestral and tribal messages specific to the wearer. These messages tell the story of the wearer's family and tribal connections and their status within these social structures. The notion of tapu - complex rules of sacredness and prohibition is essential to Maori belief as is mana - personal spiritual power or prestige. Tapu applies to sacred and/or forbidden objects such as sacred grounds or the possessions of a chief and also to actions prohibited by a tribe. It can be temporary or permanent - canoe builders would have been made tapu in a ceremony prior to starting work. These beliefs are still very much alive in New Zealand today.
Our last stop before reaching Tauranga was Maketu, landing site of the Te Arawa canoe that brought the first settlers to the area from Hawaiki in the 14th century. I nearly fell off the wharf when I saw the hundreds and thousands of beautiful ostrich-foot shells on the beach. Uncle Alun used to tease Anti Ceri saying that she was like ´buwch mewn cae clover´(a cow in a clover field) when let loose in a shop and that was the perfect description for me as I darted around the beach, bobbing up and down, wishing that I had bigger hands and another pocket!
We stayed at Maketu until the crimson sunset then drove on to Tauranga where we needed to find a bed for the night. Remember what I said about places being quieter at this time of year? Well that doesn´t apply when there are two national events taking place in town on a weekend. We were turned away from four places and telephoned another four with no luck and were beginning to think that it would have to be the back seat of the car when we had the last available wooden cabin at a motorcamp on the outskirts of town. It was a wonderful little place with all mod cons and we got to see a whole new breed of people to the usual in the morning - chirpy happy campers wandering out of the shower block in their stripey dressing-gowns and fluffy slippers. What a pleasant change from bleary-eyed backpackers.
Thursday, 10 July 2008
HICKS BAY TO OPOTIKI - HAKA & THE HAIRY CHIEF
There's a lot to be said for travelling at this time of year. The days are still lovely and warm and apart from the obvious advantages of cheaper winter rates for accommodation and car hire you quite often get places that are normally buzzing with tourists all to yourself. It's not that the beaches of the East Cape would have been dotted with parasols and pinacoladas at the height of the summer, as tourists are few and far between here, but our footprints were the only ones on these desolate stretches of sand strewn with driftwood and whatever else the Pacific had cared to toss ashore.
Beaches seem to have their own 'signature' seashell and Lottin Point, our first stop on day two round the Cape shimmered with the blues, greens and pinks of paua shells. The paua, or abalone, is polished and carved into beautiful pieces of jewellery and is traditionally used as an inlay for Maori carvings. It is also incorporated into some particularly nasty souvenirs which I can't believe that people buy and cart home with them. Far better to have a single shell from the beach which holds real memories.
I would have been quite happy to have spent my entire five months in NZ at Lottin Point. We drove on an unsealed road through a forest then scraped the bottom of the hire car down a stony track and across a stream bed to reach this small, but perfectly formed bay. Pohutukawa trees fringed the rocky headlands that bound the crescent shaped beach. In December, these trees burst into exotic, vivid red bloom hence their other name of the NZ Christmas tree. The rocky shallows were perfect for snorkelling, the sheltered waters perfect for swimming, the sandy shore perfect for strolling and the pebbly bank perfect for beach-combing. As predicted, we spent far too much time there.
The school gates at Torere were beautiful. The structure was about four metres high and carved with intricate Maori design and inlay. Apparently it is quite a common sight to see the children here practicing the haka on the front lawn but there were no rolling eyes, lolling tongues or chest slapping whilst we were there. Haka is Maori for any form of dance and the chant that preceded a battle or challenged suspicious visitors is a haka taparahi. Each tribe would have had its own haka taparahi and the famous ´Ka Mate, Ka Mate´ haka that we associate with All Blacks rugby matches is the haka of the Ngati Toa tribe and their great warrior chief, Te Rauparaha. His haka is said to have originated from the time when he was fleeing from some of his numerous enemies and another chief hid him in an underground kumara store, where he waited, in the dark, to be found. When the store was opened and the sun shone in, it was not the enemy but the (hairy) local chief telling him that the enemy had gone. Te Rauparaha climbed the ladder out of the store and performed his victorious haka
Ka mate, ka mate It is death, it is death
Ka ora, ka ora It is life, it is life
Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru Behold the hairy man
Nana hei i tiki mai i whatawhitie te ra Who caused the sun to shine
Upane, aupane Abreast, keep abreast
Upane, ka aupane The rank, hold fast
Whiti te ra Into the sunshine
I´ve witnessed a haka from a distance of ten feet and even though I knew that I wasn´t about to be eaten, it sent a chill down my spine.
As we approached Opotiki, we could see White Island out in the Bay of Plenty. You can visit New Zealand´s most active volcano on a boat trip but be prepared to flee at anytime. This is a small island, formed by three volcanic cones that hisses and spouts with steam and hot water from the crater. Safer and cheaper is to visit the live webcam where someone has placed a small pink teddy near the camera. He looked quite lonely but he won´t get cold at night for sure.
Beaches seem to have their own 'signature' seashell and Lottin Point, our first stop on day two round the Cape shimmered with the blues, greens and pinks of paua shells. The paua, or abalone, is polished and carved into beautiful pieces of jewellery and is traditionally used as an inlay for Maori carvings. It is also incorporated into some particularly nasty souvenirs which I can't believe that people buy and cart home with them. Far better to have a single shell from the beach which holds real memories.
I would have been quite happy to have spent my entire five months in NZ at Lottin Point. We drove on an unsealed road through a forest then scraped the bottom of the hire car down a stony track and across a stream bed to reach this small, but perfectly formed bay. Pohutukawa trees fringed the rocky headlands that bound the crescent shaped beach. In December, these trees burst into exotic, vivid red bloom hence their other name of the NZ Christmas tree. The rocky shallows were perfect for snorkelling, the sheltered waters perfect for swimming, the sandy shore perfect for strolling and the pebbly bank perfect for beach-combing. As predicted, we spent far too much time there.
The school gates at Torere were beautiful. The structure was about four metres high and carved with intricate Maori design and inlay. Apparently it is quite a common sight to see the children here practicing the haka on the front lawn but there were no rolling eyes, lolling tongues or chest slapping whilst we were there. Haka is Maori for any form of dance and the chant that preceded a battle or challenged suspicious visitors is a haka taparahi. Each tribe would have had its own haka taparahi and the famous ´Ka Mate, Ka Mate´ haka that we associate with All Blacks rugby matches is the haka of the Ngati Toa tribe and their great warrior chief, Te Rauparaha. His haka is said to have originated from the time when he was fleeing from some of his numerous enemies and another chief hid him in an underground kumara store, where he waited, in the dark, to be found. When the store was opened and the sun shone in, it was not the enemy but the (hairy) local chief telling him that the enemy had gone. Te Rauparaha climbed the ladder out of the store and performed his victorious haka
Ka mate, ka mate It is death, it is death
Ka ora, ka ora It is life, it is life
Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru Behold the hairy man
Nana hei i tiki mai i whatawhitie te ra Who caused the sun to shine
Upane, aupane Abreast, keep abreast
Upane, ka aupane The rank, hold fast
Whiti te ra Into the sunshine
I´ve witnessed a haka from a distance of ten feet and even though I knew that I wasn´t about to be eaten, it sent a chill down my spine.
As we approached Opotiki, we could see White Island out in the Bay of Plenty. You can visit New Zealand´s most active volcano on a boat trip but be prepared to flee at anytime. This is a small island, formed by three volcanic cones that hisses and spouts with steam and hot water from the crater. Safer and cheaper is to visit the live webcam where someone has placed a small pink teddy near the camera. He looked quite lonely but he won´t get cold at night for sure.
Thursday, 3 July 2008
GISBORNE TO HICKS BAY - EAST AS ...
The East Cape has been described as a gorgeous, detached and untouristed slice of North Island. Small Maori communities seem to wash up along the coastline, the pace moves down a gear or two and the landscapes are simply stunning. The Pacific Coast Highway hugs the coastline all the way around the Cape and we set out to complete the drive in three days. Five minutes into the journey and we'd stopped at Wainui Bay and joined dozens of others to admire the skills of the surfers twisting and turning their way in on the huge rolling waves. We tore ourselves away and on to the locality where the film Whalerider had been shot. Try as we might, we simply could not find the sign for the turning down to the village of Whangara. After doubling back twice we gave it up as a bad job and came to the conclusion that the residents were fed up of visitors and had thrown the sign in the hedge.
At Tolaga Bay we took a hike along Cook's Walkway to see yet another bay where he had landed on his great voyage of discovery. The track crossed hilly farmland then arrived at a lookout high above the coastline before descending into dense bush, eventually emerging into the light to cross a last few fields before reaching the cove. After an hour and a half we got to the cove which was quite forgettable, but the same cannot be said of the track which was the muddiest I've ever walked and we do dirt pretty well at home. A bit of consideration by Captain Cook for those that would have to squelch to the spot for years to come would not have gone amiss when he was deciding where to drop anchor!
Beaches just seem to draw us and we spent more time than we should have at Waipiro Bay walking and collecting (more) shells. It was mid afternoon when we left and we were literally miles behind schedule and had no accommodation booked so we decided to put off a visit to the East Cape Lighthouse until the next day and went on to find a hostel at Hicks Bay. It was pitch black when we arrived with no lights anywhere and we weren't sure if we were at the right place when we ventured in through the gate. Having closed it behind us, we were confronted by two pairs of shining green eyes and had we known that they belonged to a German Shepherd and a Rottweiler we'd have been back over in a flash but as it turned out, the biggest danger we faced from them was being licked to death!
It doesn't get much further east than Hicks Bay and only at the tip of the East Cape will the first rays of the sun reach land before here so we were out of our beds by 6.30am and on a rocky headland above the beach to be among the first in the world to welcome the new day. We watched in silence as the sun appeared over the horizon.
We were back on the road early, backtracking a few miles to the East Cape then climbed hundreds and hundreds of steps to the lighthouse at the top of the cliff and panoramic views of mile after mile of rugged coastline and rolling green hills. We were joined by a retired couple from Hamilton who had visited every lighthouse in New Zealand - this one being the last. We took a photo of them to mark the occasion and they took one of us in return - our heads were chopped off but it was a nice shot of the flax nearby. I counted the steps on the way down - there were 759 of them. I can say this with confidence as I ran back up and counted them again on the way down the second time just to be sure ...
At Tolaga Bay we took a hike along Cook's Walkway to see yet another bay where he had landed on his great voyage of discovery. The track crossed hilly farmland then arrived at a lookout high above the coastline before descending into dense bush, eventually emerging into the light to cross a last few fields before reaching the cove. After an hour and a half we got to the cove which was quite forgettable, but the same cannot be said of the track which was the muddiest I've ever walked and we do dirt pretty well at home. A bit of consideration by Captain Cook for those that would have to squelch to the spot for years to come would not have gone amiss when he was deciding where to drop anchor!
Beaches just seem to draw us and we spent more time than we should have at Waipiro Bay walking and collecting (more) shells. It was mid afternoon when we left and we were literally miles behind schedule and had no accommodation booked so we decided to put off a visit to the East Cape Lighthouse until the next day and went on to find a hostel at Hicks Bay. It was pitch black when we arrived with no lights anywhere and we weren't sure if we were at the right place when we ventured in through the gate. Having closed it behind us, we were confronted by two pairs of shining green eyes and had we known that they belonged to a German Shepherd and a Rottweiler we'd have been back over in a flash but as it turned out, the biggest danger we faced from them was being licked to death!
It doesn't get much further east than Hicks Bay and only at the tip of the East Cape will the first rays of the sun reach land before here so we were out of our beds by 6.30am and on a rocky headland above the beach to be among the first in the world to welcome the new day. We watched in silence as the sun appeared over the horizon.
We were back on the road early, backtracking a few miles to the East Cape then climbed hundreds and hundreds of steps to the lighthouse at the top of the cliff and panoramic views of mile after mile of rugged coastline and rolling green hills. We were joined by a retired couple from Hamilton who had visited every lighthouse in New Zealand - this one being the last. We took a photo of them to mark the occasion and they took one of us in return - our heads were chopped off but it was a nice shot of the flax nearby. I counted the steps on the way down - there were 759 of them. I can say this with confidence as I ran back up and counted them again on the way down the second time just to be sure ...
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