A Good Couple of Days

When I started this post I wrote, "Yesterday, if my cellphone tells the truth, was Friday 16th."  That was November.  Our schedule was to drive for a few hours, visit a Jain temple and spend the night at Kumbalgarh. It's good to have a plan.

First we willfully modified it by asking our driver, Satish, to take us to a lake a little way off the highway. "No problem" so off we went. He'd never been there before so he stopped at the turn off to ask directions. The car is not equipped with maps. The detour started by following a highway enjoying major renovations and was essentially one long detour using first one lane, then the other and then bumping us across rubble strewn wilderness.

Once off the main drag we travelled on minor roads with one paved lane. Passing other vehicles involves at least one of them driving onto the soft shoulder. The kilometers mounted up. Satish checked with villagers that we still on the right road. Finally we took a right turn and were faced with locked gates. The lake is in the grounds of a large, posh hotel and the hotel didn't want to know us. No-one  from the gate house responded to our approach. So the lake and the waterfowl promised by the guide book were denied to us. :-(

Satish didn't exactly retrace his route, so we saw different villages on the way back to the main highway.  Fortuitously (or cunningly) he took us through the town of Pali, which boats a large lake not mentioned in the guidebook.  He helpfully stopped 2 or 3 times so that we could give the binoculars a workout and identify comb ducks, egrets, pelicans and spoonbills.  We also observed a man in a pink turban and a bareheaded boy up to their waists in the muddy water.  They were diligently doing something.  Eve thinks they were harvesting lotus roots.  Please leave your even better guesses as a comment.

What is this man doing?

This ornithological detour had used up a fair bit of time.  The normal hour for lunch came and went and Satish drove on.  His custom, when we lunched on the move, was to stop at a posh hotel, which catered for foreigners at very fancy prices.  For example, 2 samosas on the train cost us 20 rupees (50 cents).  At these tourist traps 2 samosas cost up to 200 rupees.  Admittedly they were better cooked and fresher, but not 10 times better.  What is going on in the background is that Satish was getting at least a free lunch and probably a cash commission as well.  Today Bill got too hungry to wait until Satish could earn himself a commission.  "We'll eat here" he commanded.

The eatery I chose was not a truckstop or village snack-a-teria (I am willing enough to eat at such places, but Eve draws the line). It was a modern building with freshly painted signage.  Satish could not refuse, so we pulled up and he accompanied us inside.  A conversation entirely in Rajasthani ended with us, but not Satish, being ushered away from the other diners into an air-conditioned area.  Is this some kind of apartheid?

As we studied the menu, printed in English and the local script - a valuable legacy of the Raj, an Indian family approached the air-conditioned area, pushed open the door and paused.  Luckily Eve spotted this and waved them inside.  What is it about Europeans that they should be separated?

The food was very good and about a third the price of the places Satish chose for us.  Interestingly, when the bill arrived it included Satish's meal.  What the heck?  We would be paying for it one way or another.

The major attraction of the day was the Jain temples at Ranakpur.  What we first noticed was monkeys in the car park.  They were grey langurs, lolling on the tarmac and in the shrubbery and, since we appeared to have no food for them, ignoring us completely.  Next we noticed that chucking out time was only 45 minutes away.  We would have to hurry.

The first small temple, the custodian advised, had erotic carvings.  If there was anything terribly rude we didn't find it.

The main temple, Adinatha, is stunning.  The guidebook reckons there are 1,444 pillars.  They are all carved and all different.  The ceilings and arches are carved in great detail.

The exterior is also a mass of decorations:

Shoes must be removed at all temples, but the rule on socks varies.  The Ranakpur temple complex is a very holy site and a popular pilgrimage destination.  The priests here require visitors to remove their socks.  There is no admission fee, but a small charge is levied for a camera.  Quite reasonably, they ask that the central part of the temple be used only for worship, and no photography is allowed there.  The Jains eschew violence towards all living things, so no leather may be taken in to a temple.  Harder to understand is the refusal to admit menstruating women.  But that's the rule at every Jain temple we visited.

Each temple is dedicated to one of Jainism's 24 tirthankars, or teachers.  Since they all lived long ago and nobody knows what they looked like, they are all represented with the same bland image.  Each has a unique symbol painted below the statue to identify which one you are looking at.

It was a terrible shame to have to rush round.  The carvings are superb and very varied.  However closing time came and we had to leave.

Our itinerary had us lodging at Kumbhalgarh, which didn't seem very far away on the guidebook's map, but we were using slow, minor roads.  Evening became night and Satish apologised that we were missing delightful forest scenery.  Time passed.  Each time we came upon a village we hoped we had arrived, but Satish kept on driving.  Eventually we came to a significant town, but this was Kankroli, not Kumbhalgarh.  Weaving through traffic as dense as Delhi's, Satish managed a right turn onto a main road.  "Not far now".  It was about this time that I remembered there was one place where the car-and-driver company had failed to book a hotel (it was still Diwali, when many Indians travel to be with family) and had offered one that was the nearest they could find.  Since it was a premium room at the Labhgarh Palace we accepted happily.  This after-dark excursion was the result.

When we finally arrived at Labhgarh Palace, it made a great first impression.  It seemed to be a modern building rather than a palace converted to a hotel, but the reception personnel were very friendly.  "There's a cultural show with a buffet dinner this evening."  Sadly, the room lacked any charm, the cultural show was a couple of children dancing to recorded and excessively amplified music.  We sat as far away as we could from the speakers and still get a meal.

The first item on the schedule for 17 November was Kumbhalgarh Fort.  Did we want to drive all the way back to Kumbhalgarh?  No.  We'll go straight to Eklinji Temple, which was only a little way back up the highway.

We saw our first elephant! It was ambling along the highway with its mahout and stopped in Eklinji to scoff some bananas.

In the same village we met a nice Parisian couple. Bernard had lost his razor so he was keen to have a shave while we waited for the temple to open.

This is quite a posh barbershop.  The chair is indoors.

Tariff for a shave - 50 rupees = $1.25

We got on famously with Bernard and Annie.  We have already arranged that they will visit us next year and we will go to Paris in 2014.

The (hindu) temple is dedicated to Siva, the family deity of the Mewars, who ruled locally until Independence.  It had several features in common with the Ranakpur complex, but many differences, including that much of it was open to the sky.  Photography was not allowed at all.

Many worshippers piled in when the gates opened.  We had to queue with them in segregated lines for a brief security check.  The temple's popularity has led to railings that require the visitor to follow a set route.  This took us into the central chamber and we were relieved to find no reaction to our presence there.

From Eklinji we headed for Udaipur and the usual maelstrom of Indian city traffic.  No, it was an unusual maelstrom, because we had to make our way through narrow, mediaeval streets.  There is barely room for two donkeys to pass, so cars have major difficulties.  We never saw a one-way system in India and we concluded that no-one would pay any attention even if a local council tried it.

We arrived at our hotel in quite early, but our room was ready and we were made welcome.  We decided to explore Udaipur on foot, so Satish was given a day and a half off.

The afternoon was mainly spent shopping in Udaipur, where we found lovely clothes at reasonable prices.  

Even though the hotel had a pleasant rooftop restaurant we decided to try dinner in an eatery recommended by one of our guidebooks.  We chose one by the lakeside, which served us huge, tasty meals for tiny prices.  As he took our order, the waiter asked if we would like a beer.  That was a surprise, since it wasn't mentioned on the menu and restaurants within a certain radius of the city's main temple are not permitted to serve alcohol.  But we fancied a beer so we said, "Yes, please."

We had to wait until the beer was delivered by motor bike.  It was then served in a teapot!  Who's serving alcohol without a licence then?

Camel Ride

We are half way through our holiday but have seen only a tiny portion of India. 

On Wednesday we went on an excursion from Jaisalmer town into the desert. We rode a camel. One poor beast had to carry both of us. We climbed on while the camel was sitting down and then had to hang on for dear life as it got up. 

The transformation from sitting camel to standing camel is a complicated process and possibly involves five or six dimensions. And all the time you are sitting up and enjoying the ride across the scrubland there is the ugly prospect that the camel must sit down again before you can get off!

In fact, we dismounted on a sand dune and had half an hour to explore before the return voyage at sunset. So we went through the sitting/standing and standing/sitting maneuvres twice. By the end we were more or less under control. 

There were lots of tracks in the sand that we first attributed to birds. In fact, the pedestrian was a large beetle. We observed the track-making with our own eyes and even photographed it. 

There were birds about. We spotted two species of bulbul as well as the ubiquitous doves. There were even some feral peafowl. 

The camel ride was followed by a cultural show and dinner. Both were uninspiring. The band was technically fine but the style of music didn't appeal. Nor did their frequent requests for tips. The dancers were very young and didn't have a wide repertoire, but their costumes were very colourful. The food was easily the most disappointing we've had all holiday. 

The following day we moved on to Jodhpur, the 2nd largest city in Rajasthan. Yes, the silly trousers do come from here.

India's awful traffic finally caught up with us and our car was shunted from behind. Our driver, who has impressed us with the safety of his driving, was not at fault. It was the other driver who was to blame. Luckily there is no damage that will hold up our tour. 

After Delhi

After Delhi, we went  to Jaipur by train. The trip took took about 5 hours and our carriage was one that's used as a sleeper at night. No privacy at all if you did want to sleep! Along the corridor the bunks are set along the train - two high and in the other part, three high. The bottom and middle seats fold down to make benches to sit on in the day. As with everything in India, it wasn't very clean and the windows were filthy. We could see enough to see the countryside and villages go by.

When we reached Jaipur we were met by a driver and car to be taken to the hotel. On the way, the driver stopped the car and said "There's my boss." His boss got out of another car and came over and presented me with a lovely flower arrangement with roses and ferns in it. As you can imagine, I was very surprised! 

We then went to our hotel for the night - what an amazing place! It was built in the 1940s as a house (haveli) and recently converted into a hotel. It is tradtionally decorated with many colours and decorations and is absolutely stunning!. The colours all seem to fit, even though they ought to clash. No-one would contemplate that mix in NZ. 

The next day we moved on to Mandawa with our permanent driver for the trip. On the way we passed through Sekhawati region which is semi-desert and saw some other traditional homes (rich people's) later on. We saw many farms - some poor and some obviously richer, The poor farmers live in hovels and the better off live in brick boxes plastered with concrete. There are often many people from the same family living under one roof. Our guide around Mandawa is obviouslly from a better off farm as there are 40 people living there and they have 6 kitchens. Mind you, their kitchens are very primitive compared to those we are used to. The Hotel we stayed in at Mandawa looked very flash from the outside and was quite good inside except for the lack of hot water! Even in the tropics a cold shower isn't all that nice,

Many of the people we meet who work in hotels and as guides have never been to school but in spite of that have taught themselves to read and write and speak good English.

The next day we travelled on to Bikaner where we only stayed one night. We met a lovely Indian couple who were visiting from Mumbai (Bombay). Smitha is a biology and chemistry teacher and her husband is a corporate banker. they are very keen to keep in touch with us. We also had dinner with a man who had spoken to us at Delhi station. Shiv owns a tour business and wanted to know about how were are travelling etc. He appeared the next morning just before we were leaving for Jaisalmer and took us to a nearby textile warehouse and insisted on buying me a sari. He wanted to buy a kurta for Bill but we couldn't find one big enough. We both keep wondering if he has a hidden agenda, so will forget to email him when we return to Jaipur, where he says he'll be at that time.

Before dinner with Shiv, we went to a temple in Deshnok. Those of you who are squeamish - BRACE YOURSELVES!! The temple is dedicated to rats, yes rats! You have to take your shoes off before you go in, though some tourists wore socks or a kind of soft shoe made of calico. Inside, there are hundreds of rats running around and sometimes they run over people's feet. They don't look particularly healthy even though they are well fed. Apparently they are fed on a lot of sugar and milk and that's the reason why.

The next day we traveled on to Jaisalmer. What a long trip - the speed limit is 80kmph and our driver, Satish, is very good and never breaks the speed limit. We stopped once to visit a small lake where there are a lot of birds and then once for lunch. By the time we reached Jaisalmer, we were very tired but the sight of the hotel was cheering. It is only five years old and very nicely set up with lots of carvings and is made of the local sandstone. The front of it is completely carved in traditional Indian style. As soon as we arrived, the head guy, Krishna, offered us chai and suggested we went up to the roof to sign the register, drink chai and watch the sunset over the desert. Absolutely lovely. We also had dinner up there in the candle-lit dark. 

KL Last Day

Our flight to Delhi was scheduled for 7pm and the hotel advised a 4pm taxi so lots of time for an outing. 

We chose to visit some regenerating rainforest near the city. The big attraction is a 'canopy walk' amongst the treetops. 

Before entering the forest we admired a pond where 3 arapaima flopped around in very opaque water. 

The first part of the walk through the trees was a fairly broad track frequented by mountain bikers and joggers, who all seemed quite unaffected by the humidity or the gradient. It wasn't steep but we found reasons to pause now and then. 

We had been warned that when we turned right at a trail junction the path to the canopy walk would be steep - and it was. No worse than many bush walks in NZ but adding tropical heat and humidity made it a tiring 500 metres. 

We had a good rest before stepping out onto the swaying walkway. We would have rested longer but the attendant warned that it looked like rain and he might have to close the gate. It wasn't too bad. The sides were almost shoulder high and major cables provided hand holds on each side. 

There are three platforms along the way, providing the relative security of a wooden floor attached to a solid tree. We admired the views and took photos. An Australian couple caught us up, chatted and moved ahead. A few raindrops bore out the attendant's prediction. 

Safely down on the other side we congratulated each other on our intrepid courage and looked doubtfully at the sky. A school party came across the walkway behind us, whooping and ignoring the rain. 

We let them all pass before setting off. This proved to be a poor choice because the boys stopped in a bunch a short way down the trail and we had to pick a way past them. One of the teachers solicitously advised us to "Be careful". 

Going down was not such hard work but the wet trail was slippery and care was required. We had intended to lunch at the park cafe but instead chose to return to our hotel. 

The information office telephoned for a taxi and we seemed all set. We got off to a bad start with the taxi driver. He wanted 70 ringgit when we only paid 40 for the outward journey. He settled grumpily for 50. 

The return route did not seem familiar and the journey was taking a lot longer. We got rather anxious. Eventually we ended up at Sunway Resort, despite having shown the driver the name and address of the Sunway Putra Hotel. He finally got the message that we were in the wrong place and frantically asked other taxi drivers for assistance. Finally he found someone to give him directions and off we drove again. 

The delay was serious. We had to get back to the hotel to pick ip our luggage and set off for the airport  if we were too late we could miss our plane. In the event we had 10 minutes to spare. No lunch. No raid on the adjacent shopping mall for $6 T-shirts. But we did find our bags and our pre-booked taxi and we did catch our plane to Delhi

KL Day 2

We took a whole day bus trip to Melaka (Malacca). Half the time - 2 hours each way - was spent driving on motorways with not much to look at except palm oil plantations. The guide grew up on a rubber plantation and talked more about rubber than palm oil, but I only spotted two small plantings of rubber trees. Whatever Sime Darby does, it uses a lot of palm oil. 

Malacca was not terribly interesting once we got there. It had periods of occupation by the Portuguese, Dutch and British, who all built churches. 

Much more colourful were the lavishly decorated trishaws (tricycle rickshaws) almost hidden under plastic flowers. At least some have sound systems for the entertainment of their clients. One very pink example had fitted a boom box that thumped out rock music loud enough to hear all over town. 

Maylasia is proud of its many cultures that, they insist, live harmoniously together. The tour lunch was Chinese and very good it was, too. It's rather sad when the lunch is the highlight of the tour. 

In the afternoon we had a little explore of Jonkers St. It has a couple of small temples and some interesting shops. In one of the latter we tried a durian puff. Durians are a large, prickly fruit with a strange, unpleasant smell. Many people think the taste is a delicacy so we popped them in our mouths and ate. Eve described the taste as very concentrated mango "with a touch of poo". I liked mine. 

The oil palms were even less exciting on the return journey. 

The hotel advertised a Japanese buffet that evening so we took advantage of the 30% discount offered to hotel residents. The buffet tables were thronged by locals; families and groups of youngsters. It's obviously very popular. 

We joined the scrum and pillaged the offerings for sushi, tempura and other dishes with no names. I was puzzled by the lack of regular boiled rice. Apparently the locals simply prefer fried rice or noodles and customer demand trumps authenticity. 

After eating we wanted un-Japanese coffee. We went downstairs to the coffee shop and were served excellent coffee. It was chased down by a staggering bill - 24 ringgit (over $10) after residents' discount. 

Kuala Lumpur Day One

The young man on the travel desk was very helpful. He accepted our reservation for the evening cultural tour, recommended the historical tour of Malacca and marked on our free map where to get the hop-on hop-off bus. 

In other cities we have found these very useful to orient ourselves and see the major sights. This one was not so  good. The seats were much too close together and seriously uncomfortable for someone with Heritage-length legs. 

The commentary was not very well synchronised with what we were looking at (or was I just looking on the wrong direction?). But we did get a smattering of history and see some big buildings. 

We went most of the way round the circuit before hopping off to visit the Butterfly Park. It wasn't as well stocked as I remember from my visit several years ago, but it was very nice all the same. 

Two things happened while we were there. One of the many prayer hours came round and we heard the call - from two separate mosques. The irreverent picture of competing muezzins sprang to mind. "Worship at Abdul's. One extra prayer free.". I will no doubt be struck with a lightening bolt. 

The second event was rain. It started gently, faded away and then came back harder. And our waterproofs were back at the hotel. Luckily the gift shop stocked umbrellas for just such an emergency. And then the rain faded away again. 

We grabbed a taxi for the short journey to the Bird Park. It's not as big or as good as Singapore's bird park, but it is well worth the entrance fee. My camera was working overtime since many of the birds are in walk-through aviaries and are not seen through  bars. 

Sore feet and the threat of more rain persuaded us to ignore the bus and take a taxi back to the hotel. 

The evening cultural tour took us to a night market in Chinatown. You will not be surprised to learn that the Rolex watches and Gucci bags are not authentic. Several touts tried hard to entice us into their DVD shops and only desisted when told them we had no tv and read books instead. 

Eve did want a new handbag and entered into negotiations. Eventually we decided that we didn't like that bag. The stallholder's final offer was about 40% of the initial asking price. This was vital intelligence when Eve  bargained for a bag she really liked. First ask 270 ringgit (about $110). Eve's counter offer 20 ringgit. "you give me heart attack." the final bargain was struck at 125 for a bag Louis Vuitton has unknowingly donated his name to. 

All this nearly made us late for the bus to a theatre restaurant where we piled our plates high before being entertained by dances from various cultures within Malaysia. And very colourful they were, too. We decided that the compere was the most colourful of all - overdone makeup and camp as a row of tents. Nothing very wrong with that, but the pest talked too much and detracted from the dancing. 

Since this was all for the tourists we had to have some audience participation. I got shoulder tapped to have a go with a blowpipe. Yes, please. Long ago I read they were easy to aim and you simply have a puff. That's truly all there is to it. I got two balloons with one dart. 

Finally everyone who wished could go on stage and learn a simple traditional dance. We both went and made fools of ourselves. 

Kuala Lumpur

KL

A stopover packed with memories. After a late evening arrival, which our bodies felt was well into the night, getting to the hotel luckily was as simple as we planned it. The airport to city express train was as easy to use as the airport claimed. At the central railway station there was a counter for taxi companies and we prepaid the fare requested. 

The first surprise was a hotel porter apparently operating without a hotel. We had to get a lift to the lobby on the 9th floor for reception and the other trappings of hoteldom. 

And what a hotel. Squads of uniformed flunkies. Had we come to the right place?  I am famously economical when booking accommodation. Did I miss a zero or two in the tariff. Indeed not. It must have been low season. The bounties of the hotel were heaped even higher when we were informed we had an upgrade to a "Crest" room. 

We were too tired to really take it in at the time. In the morning we took stock: an enormous room with a bathroom on the same scale, including his and hers matching basins; complimentary wi-fi; and Chinese style porcelain teapot with dinky cups to match. The latter was spoiled a little by a miserly supply of indifferent quality tea to brew in it. 

The hotel's claim to 5 stars was supported by a breakfast I have never seen surpassed:- tropical fruits and juices, breads, cereals, a noodle bar, a vegetarian counter that ranged from intriguing Asian dishes to a chef delivering cook-to-order omelettes, and more hot dishes than we could believe. Our favourite was nasi lemak; coconut rice with cucumber, hard boiled egg, roasted peanuts and tiny pieces of salty fish. Trust me, the combination works. And throughout the dining room waiters and waitresses dispensed tea and coffee and pounced on any used dish, all with a style the Ritz would be happy to call its own. 

We have livestock

Unless you count the bees, which technically are leased rather than owned, we have only had the neighbour's stock on our property.  Dion Maclean grazes his sheep and occasionally a few cattle on our land.

Last Tuesday (2 Oct) we acquired our first animals.

Beryl is a Barred Rock bantam.  The 8 chicks are all thoroughbred Orpingtons, but Beryl doesn't know that.  Nor does she care.  She incubated the eggs and looks after the chicks as if they were her own.  Like a mother hen, in fact! 

The chick at the front is a "blue" Orpington.  Looks grey to me.

After 5 days all 9 are well settled in.  They have to be kept in a cage because at this age the chicks are easy prey for hawks and stoats.  And possibly rats, too.  When fully grown they should be able to look after themselves and will range free in the orchard.  Except perhaps against falcons.  So we will keep one rooster.  The experts tell us they are the best lookouts.

Lovely grub.  The chick crumble is supplemented by silver beet from the garden and an occasional worm.

Fun and games on the farm

We have planted our first commercial crop - garlic.  It is already sprouting, despite the very cold weather.

The climate can be relied on to deliver enough moisture for now, but irrigation is necessary to ensure optimal growth to maturity.  We will pump water up from a stream to a big tank and from there gravity will send the precious fluid to a second tank and then to the garlic.  The water tanks were delivered this afternoon.

One of them is to be placed near the house and the other on a little hill we call "The Knoll".  There is a 170m made track to the desired position on The Knoll, but it had become overgrown.  Eve and I went out yesterday afternoon to clear a path for the delivery truck and discovered that it was very much more overgrown than I had realised.

Problem one: we have a good quality scrub cutter, but had only previously used the nylon line for cutting grass.  The instructions for changing the whirly bit were very clear, but could we get the blade for tougher undergrowth on?  We must have spent about an hour before Eve finally got all the components in the right order and (the difficult bit) stopped the shaft turning so that the all important nut could be properly tightened.

It worked very well for several seconds, but thereafter either loosened itself or tightened up so much it wouldn't turn.  So much for labour saving technology.

So we attacked the broom with loppers, secateurs, a saw and a hatchet.  Plus a lot of muscle.

By the time it got dark we had done roughly half the job.

This morning we were back at it, heedless of the rain, and cleared all the serious obstacles.  We hoped that the stumps were cut down low enough to do no damage.  Wet and triumphant we hurled all our work gear in the washing machine and settled down to lunch.

A morning phone call had advised that delivery would be between 3 and 4 in the afternoon.  Lots of time.  Did we drag all the big branches out of the way?  Um, no.  So Bill rugged up against the elements in his sailing oilskins and properly finished the job.

At 3:30 pm the delivery truck driver phoned to say he was at Kohatu and would be with us in half an hour. We reminded him that he would well advised to leave his trailer unit in the bottom paddock and just bring the truck with our 2 tanks up the drive.

Problem 2:  At about 4 o'clock there was a tap on the door.  It was the truck driver.  His mighty machine was stuck in the paddock.  Do we have a 4WD to give him a tow?  It would only need a little extra to get him moving again.  Yes, we do.  This is what we bought  the 'beast' for.  3 litres of Mitsubishi no-nonsense grunt.  Did the driver have a tow rope?  Yes, he had plenty of straps.  It was the first time I had engaged '4WD Low'.  In the beast's lowest gear I set off and, hooray, the truck followed.  A figure of eight course put us in the right position to unhook the trailer and now we are in business.

Problem 3:  The truck driver was adamant that his steed would not go along the Knoll track.  It wasn't wide enough, and he was concerned that it was a bit slippery, too.  Tank 1 was unloaded at the start of the track.  We are promised that it is easy to drag to the other end of the track.

Problem 4:  The truck could not manage the steep corner below the house.  This time it was easy to tow up to the corner by the orchard where Tank 2 is to do its duty.  The first tank was fairly easy to nudge over the side of the truck.  The tanks are plastic and not terribly heavy when empty.  But our drive here is on a bit of a slope.  The driver and I wiggled the base of the tank over the side of the truck, but the slope was too much for the chocks and we couldn't stop the tank from rolling back over the end of the truck.  You probably have never seen a runaway water tank.  It is very round and rolls. It is also rather squashy and bounces.  So Tank 2 rolled and bounced with exuberant freedom down the hill.  It just missed Tank 1, and came to rest fair and square on the Knoll track, still on its side.  Nothing Dion's tractor and a team of strong men can't fix.

The driver produced the paperwork and I signed for delivery.  Well, the tanks are on our land and not in the factory.

He reversed all the way down to the bottom, since our turning options all include driving off the drive onto the grass.  That's no problem in dry weather but ....

Problem 5:  Back in the paddock we had to re-hitch the trailer.  I don't think I'm very good at giving directions.  Mind you, the second attempt was a bullseye, but the locking mechanism didn't work.  After about 10 goes he tried a different angle - and got stuck in the paddock's mud again.  The beast to the rescue for the third time.  The driver then removed a metal bar from his tool kit and did mysterious and noisy things around the towing mechanism.  He didn't swear, but you could see it was only by prodigious self-control.  Now he played his trump card.  I would drive the truck and he would give directions.  The first attempt wasn't quite there, but the second produced a clang that announced the trailer was "on".

After that, it was all quite simple really.  The truck pulled the trailer back onto the drive without another tow.  It was then necessary to untie the 2 tanks on the trailer and roll them onto the truck.  Sorry, there were no more mishaps.  All in all, I'm glad that I didn't see another tank make a bid for freedom.  From by our gate it would probably have plunged into the river, which was quite high enough to whisk it away, at least to the next bridge if not to the sea.

The driver thanked me for my help, which was mighty generous of him, and set off in the gloom of the cloudy evening to deliver his remaining charges.

Now I have to phone Dion and ask when he and his tractor can come to clean up the mess.