Travel Gallery

In Ex Soviet Uzbekistan, most cars offer an additional source of income to their owners. Walking down the road and want a ride? Just stick out your hand an most cars will stop and potentially take you to your destination- for the right price. This is Uzbekistans version of Uber. This pic features my friend, actually Uzbek rockstar negotiating our fare for a few km in Uzbek Som $.

Despite my broken Russian and the obvious safety concern, I did successfully negotiate a few solo journeys. The key to getting a good deal is to know a fair price and then stick to it, being willing to wait for the next car to come along.

In Samarkand- ancient city of the Timurid dynasty (now in Uzbekistan) stands Registan square. Complete with three madrassas- translated to from Arabic meaning teaching or learning place- the Registan is unique in terms of islamic architecture. Animals are not usually present in islamic monuments. These animal motifs are located on the Sher-Dor madrassa which was completed in 1636. The name Sher- Dor comes from the images on the portal: two big golden tigers carrying a sun on their backs and heading after white fallow-deer were adoring the entrance. Sher means tiger (lion) and the name is translated as “adorned with tigers”. It was this plot that later became a national symbol of Uzbekistan. There is also the image of a swastika, in the center of the arch above the entrance there is the image from ancient times that was the symbol of abundance and fertility.

Zoom out from previous image… Magnificent!

I ended up in North Korea following my internship at a hospital in Shanghai. I was keen to leave China but wasn’t sure where to go, so I chose and numbered 6 potential destinations, I through 6 and rolled a die. When the die came up on number 6, which corresponded North Korea I boarded a train for Northern China to the city of Dandong. There was a North Korean tour agency there and I joined a group of 20 Chinese nationals to head overland through North Korea.

This train station was the bleak transport point from the border. We headed on a very slow train through the North Korean country side to the puppet city of Pyongyang. The other tour members were jovial and jolly about the journey. They seemed completely oblivious to much of the poverty of the country. Needless to say I stuck out like a sore thumb.

A long title for a marble building full of strange gifts given to Kim Jong Il and Kim Il Sung from different world leaders. North Koreans attend, dressed in their finest clothing, The majority of gifts were given by other despotic regimes around the world- particularly China and the former USSR. I discovered a mirror, a gift from South Korea and an interesting symbol. While Americas Madeline Albright gave a gold bowl and a basketball signed by Michael Jordan!

There is an estimated 1 million people in the Korean People’s Army of North Korea and another 30% on standby, bringing the total to about 8 million under Kim Jong- Uns command!

Designated as the #40th National Treasure of North Korea located in Mt Myohyang . Interesting to find it still standing!

Despite tourism being a big part of international money coming into North Korea, there are many rules in place for visitors to the country. This woman was my guide and translator as well as responsible for monitoring me and ensuring that I was not a threat to national security. Certain cameras, Ipods and radio transmitters are not permitted. While photographs taken of monuments or sculptures of the Dear leader and his family, must capture the whole image good light. Memory cards are checked as people exit the country on a large screen to scan for any photographs that were deemed inappropriate. I had several memory cards, one of which was prepared with well framed pictures of the country. While the others were strategically placed elsewhere, so I could save the other photographs for another time.

Pyongyang is grey, bleak and cold. Buildings are often found in poor repair and citizens have a similar lacklustre appearance. Thankfully the propaganda goes a long way in brightening up the streets. Communicating messages to the people, which include: “Pyongyang, the capital city of the revolution –let’s build it into a fantastic world class city! or ‘Those who dare insult us will face a mighty punishment!’

Looking out from my hotel room on a Saturday night in the capital Pyongyang. I saw 3 cars and a few bicycles sprinkled across what otherwise appeared to be a grey desolate place.

Keeping in the theme of much of North Korea, the area was bleak and made of concrete. I felt a dutiful heaviness there from the soilders who occupied the area in defence of their side of the border.

“So Danielle, where is your flag?” Looking at the North Korean side of the room, I couldn’t see Australia represented. There were only other communist regimes, including China, Russia and Cuba. I awkwardly pointed across the room into enemy territory… “Mine is up there.”

Actually a novelty! But it worked in my favour because I showed enthusiasm and think my guide/ security personnel thought I was pretty naive, so I managed to take some photos which may not generally been approved by North Korean authorities.

Many people fly directly in to Pyongyang from cities like Beijing. I would recommend joining a Chinese tour group and going overland on the train, much more to see that way. Certainly disturbing and bleak but certainly a good way to get an idea of a place from the inside out.

There is a vast difference between the two demilitarised zones. The US influenced South Korean DMZ (which I visited about a month later) had all the bells and whistles. Plasma screens and a very dramatic story about the North Korean enemy. North Korea on the other hand had a humble building and simply made it clear that they had a larger ‘flag pole’ than their South Korean neighbours.

Following the Korean War a so called ‘Peace Treaty’ was signed in 1953. This created the Demilitarized Zone which separate the North and South.

The city of Lahore in Pakistan is choc- full of inhabitants with a population of nearly 7 million. Like most parts of the country, excluding the northern areas and the Hunza valley solo women are not seen on the streets. It is customary that a women be accompanied by their husband or brother. Needless to say, my 2 month adventure through the country raised some eyebrows with the locals.

Day 3 of being in Pakistan, I went to a crowded marketplace with a couple of people from the guesthouse. Soon after arriving, a seemingly kind local offered to show us around. Before we knew it there was a crowd of approximately 300 men surrounding us.

As the crowd grew, the men started taking photos of us and then trying to get closer to touch us, especially me.

This was despite my modest outfit, an and ugly shalwar kameeze that I hoped would defer attention. I retaliated, first with a warning and then with strikes to the necks of the offending men. The group started to riot, they were stealing from the market stalls and knocking them down. Police arrived with shields and we started to run, followed by the men. The police made a makeshift area where we were apprehended. Strangely.

They were mad that I had hit the men. I had learnt by that time that my feelings were of very little significance being a western woman, so my response was; “How dare these men touch me! My husband deserves better, he would be so mad!.”

Myself and a couple of other local women were ushered into the ladies area to sit and watch the sufis. I was unfamiliar with the theory of mysticism that was beneath the event. To an ignorant observer it appeared like a vibrant gathering, where the sufis smoked lots of marijuana, potentially using it as a medium to somehow bring on a trance like state? Then they proceeded to spin and jump and sweat to the music.

The night after attending this event I woke at 3am with severe dizziness and nausea. The next 3 days in the 40 degree heat, I experienced my consciousness shift from clear to foggy and I was terribly ill. I had contracted amoebic dysentery.

Dysentery lasted for about a month of my two month trip and it was hideous.
At one point I did seek out a doctor . His treatment started by putting his hand on my forehead and declaring my temperature was 41 degrees. He then said a few words to Allah and picked a bottle of pills randomly from the cabinet beside us. Guided by god?

Not convinced, I travelled to Peshawar to continue my trip and dug into my personal store of antibiotics- Here I am, sitting on my uncomfortable rope bed, taking my actual temperature and seeing if anything I had might help!

This is the sign we recklessly ignored when we ended up in the tribal areas between Peshawar and Afghanistan. This signifies that you are entering tribal land and are subject to tribal rules for any breech.

I travelled to Pakistan at 21 years old alone. Knowing what I know now about this region and with less unabridged optimism, there is no way I would ever do this again.

Not the most relaxing tea I have had. The man on the right with the felt hat asked if I had been to Darra Adam Khel? He offered to take me for $2000 ruppees… I asked what was there and he said it was a town full of shops that made guns for the Afghan wars. Assuming it was a frequently visited tourist destination and feeling stupidly drawn to the danger, I agreed. He picked me up the following day and hid me under a blanket in his car to get across the checkpoint and into the town.

I hired a ute and an armed guard to take me down the Khyber Pass to the Afghan border. This main trade route between India and Central asia is inhabited by afridi tribesmen. I was advised to not take photographs as we were on tribal land. My guard rode inside the ute with his gun to protect me, while I was told to ride in the tray. Hmmmm?

Located south of Peshawar, is a town that makes its income entirely from manufacturing weapons. The tribal frontier with Pashtun and Afridi tradesmen create a wide range of weapons ranging from pen guns to aircraft missiles. When I was snuck into the region by a man in a felt hat who I met on the border of Afghanistan, it seemed like the area wasn't frequently visited by foreigners. After I was shown through the workshops and the various ammunition that was made by hand I heard shots being fired. I was escorted outside where a number of men were lounging around and testing weapons. It was terrifying, I had never been that close to a loaded gun. One of the men insisted that I shoot and AK 47 into the air, at a fee. I declined but it was not optional, so I handed over my money and was handed the heavy gun. The man suggested I start off shooting for the hill in the distance. I was more than slightly concerned by the suggestion, because the hill was only achievable if I could point the gun up high. I knew if I dropped it, the people in the workshops beneath may be injured… on questioning the man who I paid for the opportunity he said; “ Aim for the hill and don’t miss!” So starting on semi automatic I held onto the metal and then on the suggestion of the man, we “flicked the switch to automatic”. It was terrifying, but I held it up and no-one was injured. Me included. We left again and thankfully, despite another fool hardy decision I escaped unscathed.

This man is an expert at making pump action shot guns, a skill he learnt from his father.

This cute and quirky animal is not like anything I’ve seen anywhere else. With cloven feet and hook nose, very unique animal indeed.

The Hunza valley located in the north eastern part of Pakistan is known to be a region where people live for a very long time. The people are mainly Ismali muslims, who practice Islam in a more relaxed way to others of Sunni and Shia factions elsewhere in the country. These gentlemen explained that they were 97 and 102 years old and happy with their life. Karimabad, the town where they live is a fertile and stunning place. When I visited it was late summer and the apricots were ripe, ready for people to create the popular apricot juices.

After a month in Pakistan an elderly lady insisted that I wear a burkha for safety. While I certainly felt like it covered me up better than the scarf i wore before I still stuck out with my huge back pack. No amount of black eyeliner could disguise my green eyes and fair skin.

The main thing that I got from the burkha was visual obstruction, getting out of buses was difficult because my peripheral vision was gone. I wore it for a month and felt more and more mad. I made friends with another traveller Lockie, who had a very different experience of the men there. He was frequently invited for chai, but without the sexual innuendo.

I was still leered at just the same wearing the burkha and felt constantly overheated with the thick black garment over my other outfit in 40 degrees. Being ushered into the back room with a couple of other women with babies away from the men around meal times was common.

The poplar trees and the sheer mountains jut out of the valley. Housing more 7000 meter peaks than any other country, northern Pakistan is magnificent.

I rode on various forms of transport along the Karakoram highway and across the border into Western China. The maximum altitude is approximately 5,000 metres.

Completed a challenging trek overlooking the valley. Such a peaceful spot.

This trek was exhausting, scary and cold. Navigating high altitude and sometimes thin little donkey tracks with steep drops.

The glacier was certainly stunning!

The Shandur pass- home to the worlds highest polo ground at 3738m above sea level. This snowy scene had me landed in the town of Chitral waiting for the weather to improve so I could find a driver and make a crossing. I was heading to the northern areas.

Internet searches about how what to expect are frequently wrong. In this case needed to get a seat in a shared bus to a snowy pass. Some sites said the walk would be several hours with bags uphill in the snow. Others said that it may be an hour or so. Fortunately we got to the snow line and the walk up was only about 30 minutes. But when we reached the top an old man warned me. “I have been a snow man in these parts, I’ve rescued people who have walked down. You need to go without petrol.” A bit confused I looked down and saw the snowy slide created… Attached my bags to me and we slid down the mountain. Sore butt but fun!

The look on this young girls face says it all.

This is not my land and very few foreigners come here. The Kalash valleys are walking distance to Nuristan province of Afghanistan. I stayed in Rumbur, one of the 3 Kalash valleys. The Kalasha people are an indigenous people of Asia. They are the smallest minority group in Pakistan and their numbers are threatened due to Islamic (sometimes forced) conversions. The first historically recorded Islamic invasions of their lands were by the Ghaznavids in 11th century. Historically there were two Kalash peoples, one in Pakistan and another in neighbouring Nuristan- Afghanistan. But the latter had been converted to Islam in 1895 although some evidence has shown the people continued to practice their customs.

The Kalasha people do not practice Islam and instead follow a animist tradition.

In May each year. I stayed with a Kalasha family and was invited to attend in full dress. Pictures will not be posted! But needless to say the adornments and two hats that each woman wears is exceptionally heavy at about 4 kg!
The men go on a hill and sacrifice a goat and drum. While the women dance in circles and celebrate the harvest.

The clothing worn here is not ceremonial. These adorned dresses and hats are worn daily. Mulberry tattoos in three spots across the face adorn the young women.

Not far from the Chinese border, on the Karakoram highway. What a sight!