Tag Archives: Annie Brassey

The storm after the calm

Emerging from two days of relative peace and tranquility on the train from Saskatoon to Toronto, I am rested and rejuvenated. My priority now being to see Niagara Falls. A few days in Toronto has brought wonderful memories of earlier times in my trip, the markets and area of Chinatown among others. It is also the ideal stop to travel to the falls from.

Once again I am joined by Annie (Brassey) and her journals providing guidance. Having left the ‘Sunbeam’ in Australia I have been travelling solo up until this point, joined again by Annie and her ‘Cruise on the Eothen’ (1872). It’s nice to have some company again.

Arriving at Niagara it was, as I had been warned, a veritable theme park, a concrete mess ‘dedicated’ to the waterfalls and yet brilliantly managing to almost totally obscure them in the process. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Annie, I may very well have taken the same opinion given to me in Toronto when a surprised receptionist looked horrified and said “three days?! that’s far too long”. This was supported by an equally alarmed fellow passenger on the bus from Toronto, herself going to St Catherine’s for the weekend to visit family, who just looked a little disappointed and rather perplexed and spent much of the trip trying to come up with imaginative and alternative excursions for me to take.

Alas, Niagara Falls was a much anticipated highlight of my trip and with Annie as my guide I could not fail to be impressed. She surely was, waxing lyrical, and at length. She also spent about three days there.

I had also splashed out on a room to myself, about thirty minutes walk from the falls at the hostel. I intended to make the most of this. As soon as I arrived I ventured out for a view of the falls. A walk along the river and first sight comes after about twenty minutes, through the Rainbow bridge that connects Canada with the US, a steam of water can be seen as it crashes into the river below.

Niagara Falls, Louise Kenward 2014

Niagara Falls, Louise Kenward 2014

Walking a little further on and the Horseshoe Falls come into view at about the same time it hits you just how disappointing the bits on land are. I held my faith, ignoring everything to the right of me and continued along the river to get the best views of the waterfalls. I remembered that Annie had taken a trip behind the falls and so duly followed suit. It was incredible, to imagine the short distance from my earlier viewpoint and I was actually a part of the falls. As much as you can be without being in a barrel and risking life and limb (for which there is a whole museum dedicated to those who have). Not surprisingly it is the sound of the water, all two million litres of it, every second, as it plummets over the edge, which is most demanding of attention, but there is also an ever so slight vibration throughout the whole of the tunnel which is thrilling if a little unsettling. There are two ‘viewpoints’ of neat squares cut out to stand behind the water, about 10 or 12 feet and from where you can see the blanket of white water and the illusion that it is dancing in many ways as the light plays tricks. It looks metres deep, almost like a solid mass, and impossible to see through. You can then stand outside, at the edge of the falls, looking upwards, and be struck by just how far away you need to be from the water and still get soaked. I came away a little disappointed however, this was not as I remember Annie’s account, although I wasn’t expecting to have to strip and dress in oilskins as she had.

Standing behind the Horseshoe Falls, Louise Kenward (2014)

Standing behind the Horseshoe Falls, Louise Kenward (2014)

'Behind the Falls', Louise Kenward 2014

‘Behind the Falls’, Louise Kenward 2014

Having discovered that the ‘Maid of the Mist’ only runs from the American side, and that the equivalent boat ‘The Hornblower’ does exactly the same thing from Canada, I decided I needed to go to America.

Feeling a little disloyal (Canada does have the best views though), I set out the next day with passport in hand. It may not have been the same bridge Annie crossed but it was, surprisingly a good deal cheaper. She was charged one and a half dollars to cross the suspension bridge. I paid 50 cents (and then a $6 entry fee into the US). It was surprisingly straight forward and America welcomed me.

The ‘Maid of the Mist’ was much more than I anticipated, having been watching it from the land for several hours the day before. Actually sailing up to the falls, along the falls, around the falls and back again genuinely gives you another ‘up close and personal’ perspective of the falls. And, not for the first time, made me worry that I had killed my camera once and for all. The force of the water is palpable when you are so close. Turning from a fairly serene, albeit fast flowing river, at the top of the falls the speed it gathers and amount of water involved as it tips over the precipice is still astonishing.

From the 'Maid of the Mist', Louise Kenward 2014

From the ‘Maid of the Mist’, Louise Kenward 2014

It was only after this that it fully dawned on me, Annie had visited the falls from this side. Her trip was around Canada but the ‘Maid of the Mist’, Goat Island and the ‘Cave of the Winds’ was accessed from here. ‘The Cave of the Winds’ is no longer a cave unfortunately, that has been closed about a hundred years. But there is now a walkway of the same name that takes you around the bottom of the American Falls. Another close encounter, and one I could take rather more at my leisure, or as much as my waterproofs would allow. Again I feared for my camera. My watch got pretty wet here too but both have thankfully recovered.

American Falls, Louise Kenward 2014

American Falls, Louise Kenward 2014

The ‘Cave of the Winds’ was also seen in much better sunlight than had been present the day before. And I saw a rainbow. It was beautiful, and an entire half circle, sitting serenely atop the torrent of activity beneath of splashing and crashing, thundering waters descending as fast as gravity will allow it.

From the 'Cave of the Winds' (Louise Kenward, 2014)

From the ‘Cave of the Winds’ (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Needless to say I was captivated and awestruck. There are places on the boardwalk where you are so close that all you can see is the white froth of the foaming waters above you and heading straight at you. I felt truly immersed and a part of the waterfalls. It is possible to imagine just how punishing a fall from the top would be.

To The Red Centre

Leaving Darwin I took the train and boarded The Ghan (how else would I travel through Australia?). Despite travelling economy, just a seat rather than a cabin for this 24 hour trip, this was to be one of my more comfortable train journeys. Set up to be something of a more luxurious travel ‘experience’, everything about The Ghan indicated that this was far more about the journey than any other train I had boarded. Checking in well over an hour ahead, luggage is stowed separately (although can be retrieved by any one of several accommodating staff if necessary) and the station, functional just once a week, includes a shop to purchase ‘Ghan’ related ephemera. It was all set in quite a relaxed atmosphere. People arriving are in much more of a holiday frame of mind than they might be if about to board a train to take them somewhere in particular. With fare reductions for Australian veterans and ‘seniors’, many of the passengers are derived from this cohort. A more sedate journey this was set to be. I should not have been so surprised to hear the dulcet tones of Bing Crosby ring out as I boarded the carriage. This was unlikely to be a trip made by anyone actually wanting to go to Alice Springs, not in any hurry anyway. To travel efficiently around Australia it is generally regarded that you need to fly.

The Ghan (Louise Kenward, 2014)

The Ghan (Louise Kenward, 2014)

There was a range of passengers travelling, some younger folk, back packers with YHA discounts, or like me, those who had purchased a rail pass allowing travel on the Ghan, Overland (Melbourne-Adelaide) and Indian-Pacific (Perth-Sydney) for the next three months. So to dispel any myths that this is expensive (indeed it can be if that is what you choose), compared to many of the instant price rises I saw on landing in Australia, the train was not one of the most alarming. I just had to adjust my expectations of having a bed for the night.

It is a peculiar thing to be in a train station where there is only one train a week. There are no commuters, no families, no regulars, it is an event just for the train to arrive. Details like timetables are irrelevant here. I was surprised to learn that this train has only been arriving in Darwin for ten years. The line had been planned for for some considerable time before this – approximately one hundred years in fact – but with various complications of engineering, termites, flooding, politics and funding, there has only been a train line with a functioning passenger railway service for ten years connecting the North of Australia with the South.

Parts of the country have been connected on the way to making such a link between Darwin and Adelaide, but it seems that travelling by train has never really been a groovy thing to do in Australia. The previous Ghan ran from Adelaide to Alice Springs, and in the film marking the end of this era, it is noted that the line that ran for half a century attracted passengers, up until it was due to close, who were generally regarded as somewhat eccentric. What also intrigued and fascinated me about this film was that it had no discernible start or end, but continued to run on its peculiar never ending loop.

Said film was seen at The Old Ghan Museum in Alice Springs, and provided a perfect accompaniment to the equally adorable museum and well matched lady who was, it seemed care taker and cleaner, happily going about her business with her dog being leashed to one or other objects in the museum along the way. The dog clearly not a fan of her vacuum cleaner. Apart from this duo, I was the only one in the museum. This set the scene well for me to lose sight of any time, either past or present. I am interested in the number of visitors it usually has. When I arrived the museum looked closed, not least because a sign outside stated that it was in fact closed. If it hadn’t been for a two hour wait before the next bus to arrive I may have accepted that. Nonetheless, I wandered around and to see what I could find and was greeted by the lovely lady with her dog, who invited me in and reassured me that it was indeed open. She explained that the ticket office is in the truck museum opposite, so the ‘closed’ sign is to redirect people to pay their admission fee there. I hadn’t figured that out. She let me in anyway and I promised I would pay at the museum of trucks afterwards.

Darwin to Alice Springs (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Darwin to Alice Springs (Louise Kenward, 2014)

I enjoyed the atmosphere and the quaintness of the Old Ghan Museum, I liked that it was devoid of visitors and that I could climb aboard one of the old rail carriages. It contained many panels of information about the history of trains and the history of the Ghan. It cited how work started in 1878 north of Port Augusta and south of Darwin (the line mentioned in Annie’s ‘The Last Voyage’). I think that one of the appeals of the museum for me was that it included such a catalogue of ephemera and information of camels, crockery, ceiling lights and carpets that the ages drifted into each other and it was hard to establish the passing of time and indeed what year it actually was. The railway was historic and recent all at once, with little discernible space in between.

So, I have reached Alice Springs without actually getting to the part of how I got here. And it is all about the getting there when travelling by train, no where more so than Australia. This was my first sight of the Australian scenery, the wilderness, the outback. My first sight of its immensity and largeness, it’s flatness and never ending-ness. I loved it. The colour was the brilliant orange red I imagined after seeing photos and films. In contrast, I had not anticipated how blue it is possible for the sky to be. Punctured by skeleton trees, shrubs and very occasional signs of ‘white man’ with pylons and fencing, the trip was a magnificent contrast to the cities and cramped spaces I had experienced in the last couple of months.

Australia is green! (some of the time), Louise Kenward, 2014

Australia is green! (some of the time), Louise Kenward, 2014

The landscape did alter. I was not expecting it to be green. In the Northern Territories it had been ‘wet season’ for a while now – no one ever told me it rained here, this is a secret Australia keeps very well guarded. I had visited Litchfield National Park earlier in the week and had the chance to visit Katherine Gorge (Nitmiluk National Park) en route. Kakadu had been closed because of the rain unfortunately, the roads were closed prohibiting access. Both parks included impressive rock formations, valleys, rivers and waterfalls. They are also on a staggering scale, Litchfield alone is 650sq-km and contains an inordinate amount of archaeological history and aboriginal culture. After leaving Katherine, heading south to Alice, the landscape transformed into the views I’d imagined of the ‘Red Centre’. The bare land glows beneath the sun it is such a vivid orange, and the blue of the sky isn’t even a colour I recognised to exist in the natural world. And in between, there lay ‘bush’ for as far as you could see. Then when you had reached that point, bush lay for as far as you could see, and so on and so on. The low lying shrubs and sparsely growing trees, somehow managing to survive on the arid flat land, emphasised the distance and scale of the landscape more than I had before witnessed.

Wangi Falls, Litchfield National Park (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Wangi Falls, Litchfield National Park (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Darwin to Alice Springs (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Darwin to Alice Springs (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Darwin to Alice Springs (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Darwin to Alice Springs (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Unlike earlier train journeys, like the trans-siberian for example, which was equally (if not more) barren and remote, there were no small trackside dwellings. It seemed entirely likely that there was no one to be found from Darwin to Alice Springs. There are of course small townships and inhabitants in a few places along the way, but mostly it is empty. Land that looks so appealing is, however, utterly remorseless. It takes no prisoners (irony intended).

Sunrise on The Ghan  (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Sunrise on The Ghan (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Trains and tiffin

Back on the trail of Annie Brassey, and I’ve made a brief diversion to Borneo. It has temporarily taken me further away from Australia, but having heard a little about Annie’s time here made it a place not to miss. Annie visited the Darvel Valley area (of what was then North Borneo) in search of bird’s nests. It had also been thought that this search through caves had been the place she contracted malaria (surely I had to visit).

The prized bird’s nests of the swiftlets in Borneo are now harvested with a little more attention to health and safety and sustainability than might have been the case when Annie visited. Her photos and journal indicate that the harvesting of bird’s nests was something of a high risk and precarious activity. Albeit for high returns. Darvel Valley is now an area of significant scientific interest and conservation. The white bird’s nest that Annie collected from her visit to the Madai caves is now held at Bexhill Museum. She had also wanted to visit another cave, the Gomantong caves which, after sending a couple of people from the voyage off to do ‘a reckie’ she was eventually persuaded that these were not accessible, she wouldn’t be able to visit. The two men in question having waded arm pit deep through swamps, hacked through jungle and swum not inconsiderable distances to find the caves before turning around to report back some days later. For me, alas, it is the Madai caves which are proving a little more elusive. I have, however, been able to arrange to visit the Gomantong caves later this week. I think Annie would be pleased.

North Borneo Railway (Louise Kenward 2014)

North Borneo Railway (Louise Kenward 2014)

In the mean time, while spending time in Sabah’s capital of Kota Kinabalu I have also been able to get back on the train. A tourist train, it is nonetheless the only stretch of railway in Borneo. It is also advertised as serving breakfast and tiffin. For this alone it is worth the trip. Annie talks a great deal about tiffin. Understandably two of her greatest concerns seem to be where to eat, when, and who with, and where she will be spending the night. I have never ‘taken tiffin’ so am intrigued and looked forward to it with great anticipation.

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Vulcan Locomotive, Lancashire (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Vulcan Locomotive, Lancashire (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Arriving at Stesen Tanjung Aru I am greeted by a number of members of staff dressed in pressed cream outfits, long shorts and knee high socks for the men and pith helmets all round. The 1950’s and 1960’s music of the Everly Brothers, The Chordettes ‘Mr Sandman’ and Danny and the Juniors ‘At the hop’ emitting in and around the turn of the century steam engine from  Lancashire (and Japanese carriages) only adds to the slightly surreal sense of time and place. It is not for the first time I consider Kota Kinabalu to be slightly off centre (I was greeted by a life sized horse with a lampshade on its head in my hotel). We are issued with passports, menus and fans before sitting down at designated tables and wait to depart. The tables are all set for breakfast and iced lemon tea is served. As we pull out of the station, a selection of pastries and tea and coffee is distributed. The scenery as we leave the city behind changes to a coastal view with wooden houses on stilts in the sea, before returning inland and watching the change from greenery and rivers to small collections of wooden houses, interspersed with new constructions of brick and metal. Most of Kota Kinabalu is built on reclaimed land, almost 90% in the last 30 years.

Kinarut )Louise Kenward, 2014)

Kinarut (Louise Kenward, 2014)

The first place we stop is Kinarut, a small town which is mostly made up of old wooden buildings and a variety of shops. It all looks a little ramshackle and only adds to the sense of another time. After a short stop we return to the train and our final destination, where we get out again for a stroll around Papar and it’s market. The locals greet us rather bemused. The layers of references to different times, places and periods in history makes it feel slightly disorientating and perhaps the kind of place and time when I might even have bumped into Annie.

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Papar, the end of the North Borneo Railway line.

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 Passports are stamped and iced tea is served.

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Tiffin! Four fabulous dishes served as we leave Papar on the return journey to Kota Kinabalu.

Menu on board North Borneo Railway (Louise Kenward, 2014)

Menu on board North Borneo Railway (Louise Kenward, 2014)

There are no tuk tuks in Penang

The sign says 327km to Kuala Lumpar. The landscape is greener, with a greater variety of trees and shrubs. Increasingly colourful, flowers can be seen in reds, oranges, yellows and now purples too. Leaving the island of Penang and heading for Kuala Lumpar, I have arrived in Malaysia. Another shift in culture, language and infrastructure. The roads are densely packed with cars, the roads are densely packed, and initially suggest that I could be on the A21 or the M25, housing estates along the road leave me thinking I could be in Eastbourne.

I have been travelling by bus through Malaysia, so am missing the trains. It has meant I can visit places not on the train lines though (like Melaka which is lovely).

Chew Jetty, Penang (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Chew Jetty, Penang (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Chew Jetty, Penang (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Chew Jetty, Penang (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Since Annie Brassey visited in 1879, Penang has grown and been heavily developed. Staying in Georgetown, however (now a UNESCO World Heritage Site) much of what she saw is still intact. The large colonial buildings can still be seen, like city hall. Chew jetty has been preserved and Penang Hill remains, although the view rather different from Annie’s.

Funicular Railway, Penang Hill (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Funicular Railway, Penang Hill (Louise Kenward, 2013)

View from the top of Penang Hill (Louise Kenward, 2013)

View from the top of Penang Hill (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Leaving another country takes a while to get used to. Adjusting to a new place and noticing the differences. Venturing into an increasingly ‘developed’ world I’m missing the haggling and contact with people at market stalls and hawker stands. Venturing back down Penang Hill, on the super new funicular/venicular train I arrive to a dark and quiet spot, half an hour’s drive from Georgetown. Teksi’s are all booked and awaiting customers and there are no tuk tuks in Penang.

After some time, the 204 bus arrives and I’m once again reminded of the kindness of strangers.