Day 9 & 10: The Seemingly Simple Task of Getting Home

Today we had to get a PMV (public mini-van) from Keglsugl to Kundiawa and then connect with another one going to Goroka. Simple. We booked a PMV for 6am to make a midday connection in Goroka.

The 'PMV' rolled up about 6:30, a battered Toyota pick-up. To be expected I suppose. It was just as well because the roads were still atrocious. After an hour or so, we hit a problem.

Going up this hill we came to a stop. The incline and slippiness meant we couldn't get any traction. The wheels spun like crazy as we helped to push. We seemed to be getting somewhere when it ran out of diesel. It had to roll back down the hill and we had to wait.



We watched as an endless stream of vehicles ran the gauntlet. Others had trouble too.



Finally half an hour or more, our replenished car returned and, although it had to be pulled at the difficult section, we made it up the hill...



Problem was there were more hills and half an hour later we were in the same situation again. No diesel. They can't have put much in. This was bad news. How can a public vehicle run out of petrol? Answer: the driver's son had been joyriding around Keglsugl the night before and run the supply down. Grrrrrrrrrrr!

Breakdown # 2.



Myself, Katka and Brus waited around for hour upon hour. The driver failed to find more diesel. We were there, halfway to Kundiawa, for 3-4 hours in the heat, demoralised. Our connection in Kundiawa was basically stuffed.



Eventually, some guys found some kerosene and the car rolled back down the hill to fill up. My expectations were very low at this point! But then it came bursting round the corner and zoomed past us with guys in the back waving us on - they weren't going to risk stopping on the hill.

Incredibly, we made it all the way to Kundiawa without further mishap. The driver was obviously conscious to the possibility, though, as he turned the engine off whilst going down hills.



Kundiawa market traders



Doubly incredibly, we also managed to get a PMV (a proper one this time) to Goroka, even though it was 3 or 4pm. Suddenly, it was good moods all round!

We overnighted in Goroka and enjoyed beers and burgers in the Bird of Paradise Hotel. Apparently, it was the first time Brus had eaten cake, let alone black forest gateaux!

Next day, we were Madang-bound, which would take all day but, thankfully, on reasonable roads. First, an hilarious message from Jesus on leaving Goroka. I trust no translation is necessary!




This unsettlying child stared at me incessantly for around 7 hours without breaking a smile. What a freak.



THE END

Day 8: Mount Wilhem

Today's plan was to ascend to two lakes just above the tree line at about 3,700m, which would be a full day's walking.



The forest was less impressive than forests at lower elevations, but there were some good fungi




Much smaller, mossier, more gnarled trees, kinda like the goblin forests in New Z.



One of several breaks on the way up.




View looking back down the valley and beyond



The lakes. We never actually saw the summit of Wilhem because it's almost always in cloud. Climbing it involves leaving from a lodge at the lakes about 1am in order to reach the summit by dawn, when it's generally clear of cloud. So it takes a bit of planning. Sadly, we had to get back.




Back at the guest house, home-grown strawberries were on the house. And in my belly.

So, no more walking. All we had to go was get public transport back to Madang.



If only it were that simple!

Day 7: Sinopas --> Keglsugl

Did I mention that the reason Sinopas in called Sinopas is because they get a lot of snow (fog) there? Yes, it's true. But dawn was a different matter...



It wasn't difficult to get up at dawn, because I didn't really sleep much. It was a bizarre night. As it was Saturday, many of the villagers were partying all night so there was a constant ghetto blaster beat pumping out somewhere nearby. We stayed in the house in the centre of the picture. The dawn views were splendid.



We set off early for what turned out to be a nine hour walk to the wonderfully named Keglsugl (that's Keggle-soogle to you), the closest village to Mt. Wilhem



Mountain valleys, roads and landslips, unsuited to vehicular traversal




Our carriers were among those that were partying the night before. Not surprisingly, they were a bit tired. One of them, Gabriel made a flowery head-thing. This was at the 2,700m site known as Bruno's Sawmill. Sadly, there was no sign of Bruno... or his sawmill, but there was a heavily epiphyte-laden tree.



Montane potato garden!



The fog descends over the trail as we climb one of two major peaks, part of the Bismarck Range of mountatins, on the way



Some piglets at a small village



Finally, the hillside gardens and village of Keglsugl, an incredibly welcome sight after an exhausting walk

Day 6: Bundi to Sinopas

This was going to be a long day's walk, but in the event Alois decided to drive us as far as he could and we would walk from there.



Alois drops us off. A bridge illustrates why he couldn't take us all the way! There was a fast flowing river way below, which made it a dizzying crossing.



Drying coffee beans in the little village of Bundikara complete with puzzled children (they were happy really - when I showed them the photo they squealed with delight)



Fancy driving on this road? Probably just Les! Some of these drops went down a long way





Lunchtime and the eagerly awaited chicken biskits



We arrived at Sinopas - so called, as we were told about 17 times, because they have much snow (fog) at this height - after about 4 hours walking. It was a small village with a pleasantly fresh climate.



We immediately went into the bush for another hour or so, by which time I was truly knackered and slightly grumpy. The forest trek involved many steep ups and downs and precarious footing due to the wet, slippy earth. The barefoot locals had no problems at all though. Their feet are so wide, I am slightly obsessed by them.

The leader of the village was one Henry Kunda, in whose house we stayed the night. Kunda being, as a delighted Katka informed me, the Czech word for c***. Henry C*** hahahaa!



Then I discovered my binocs were missing from my bag, which was locked in the house shown below while we were in the bush. Someone must have gained access and nabbed 'em. It's not out of the question that I could still get them back. There have been reports of a villager with binocs!!



I simply had to add a picture of the great man, Henry Kunda, seen here in ceremonial shell suit