Day 3 - Kovello > Deniki > Isurava Village > Isurava Memorial

Another night of terrible sleep - and I thought last night was bad! Damn roosters started crowing at about 3AM. And that was after struggling with the self inflating pillow. Stupid pillow - to hard, and the head rolled off it every time I moved. Too soft and the head was at a 45 degree angle while lying on my side - which gave me a sore neck and shoulders. I had gone to bed in just the silk sleeping bag liner, as it was pretty warm on retiring. But by midnight I was cold, and had to find the sleeping bag. Then at 4:30 I was busting for a pee - but couldn't find the head lamp that I had been lent the night before. And with just a hole in the ground, I wasn't going in there without a light. Almost peed my pants looking for the lamp. Finally found it and rushed out of the tent.

On returning, I couldn't see the point in trying to get back to sleep, given that we would have a 5AM wake up "Cooee". So I started packing up my gear. Stuffing the sleeping bag. Stowing the liner. Deflating the self inflating pillow and rolling it up. Deflating the self inflating mattress and rolling it up. Putting all the the sleeping gear into a wet sack (or is it a dry sack? Not sure). Then changing into my hiking clothes. Packing up my sleeping clothes. Packing all the clothes into another wet sack. Putting Canesten cream on my feet to help stop fungal infection. Then socks on, and finally boots on. Then throw wet sacks, snacks, first aid kit, toiletry kit, toilet paper, water bottle and water bladder into the backpack, ready for breakfast. The whole effort took me 45 minutes - will have to get quicker than that.

Breakfast was good - muesli, tinned fruit and coffee. A quick rinse of the plate in the hot water, pack that away, visit the loo (not too stinky), and ready for the daily briefing at 6:15. It is here that we find out what lies ahead for the day. How big the hills are. How long we expect to walk for. Things to watch out for. Etc etc. It looked like a long uphill, but not too steep. "We'll see how good that preparation was" I thought to myself.

The first 45 minutes was easy walking along a wide, mostly flat track to Hoi Village. A nice creek ran through the middle of the village - but they had roosters too, so don't know if I would have slept any better. Then the climb started. It was ridiculous. This was supposed to be a moderately steep climb - nothing like what we will face in the coming days. But it was like climbing a ladder. With slippery steps. And no sides to hang on to. With a 16kg backpack on. And we kept climbing continuously for over an hour...

Finally we stopped for an early morning tea at Deniki Village. And I have to say, it was a welcome stop. Dry biscuits and coffee never tasted so good, as we looked back down along the valley we had just climbed up.

Unfortunately, after morning tea came more climbing. Peter told us that we were powering along, and that usually he would have called 3 rest stops on the climb to Deniki! No wonder I was tired. Then more climbing. And more. And more. About 15 minutes before we got to our lunch spot at Isurava Village, I was really starting to tire. It was really hot. It was really humid. And I was starting to physically tire. It was with relief I saw the village come into sight. But then, another bugaup. The No Roads group that had pinched our camp site the night before, had pinched our lunch spot as well! I have to say I was pretty annoyed. One good thing about Adventure Kokoda who I was with was the great organisation. They booked camping spots and lunch spots to minimise hassles. And to be tired and have No Roads pinch our spot again wound me up. Not so the boys (our porters - we called them the boys). They had simply found us another spot with some shade, lit a fire and had boiling water for tea and coffee ready, along with a lunch of pasta with some sort of tomato sauce, as well as Spam, cheese, meat of some description (bully beef perhaps?) and a boiled potatoe.

I took the boots off while I was eating and aired the feet. I'm determined not to get any blisters or infections on my feet, and airing them felt fantastic. Putting the wet socks back on after lunch wasn't so much fun.

As we were heading off, Peter suggested that because we were such a strong group, and doing so well, we should make a small detour to have a look at a WWII Japanese Navy fighter plane, which had crashed into the mountain. He said it was a bit of a climb, but would be worth it. So, we left our packs with the boys on the track, and started climbing. And what a climb - it made the mornings effort look like the hump on the Harbour Bridge!

My first step up the mountainside resulted in me shoulder charging the dirt, as I only had one trekking pole, with my water bottle in the other hand. So when my feet went from under me - bang - shoulder first into the mountain. I was more careful after that - I didn't relish the thought of falling all the way back down to the track.

The climb took about 30 minutes. In that time we climbed from 4,200 feet to over 5,400 feet! And when you consider that the whole morning we had only climbed from 1,000 feet to 4,200 feet, you can see that the half hour after lunch was STEEP! Funny enough, I did it easy. I don't know if it was the fact I was sucking on Staminade the whole way. Or that I wasn't carrying a pack. Or that I had had a good lunch. But whatever it was, I enjoyed the climb, and wasn't puffing at the top.

The plane was a shredded mess. It must have really gone into the side of the mountain hard. Apart from a bomb, the engine and other heavy parts, most of the plane was unrecognisable. We looked over it for 10 minutes, and headed back down the mountain.

Everyone seemed to find going back down harder than going up. There were about 15 slips/falls on the way down. But I was having a ball. Feeling really strong. Not slipping at all. Almost jumping down the mountain. It was a really good feeling.

At the bottom, it was packs back on, and a sprint to Isurava Village. Still I was feeling strong, and we got to our campsite at 3:30PM. Not bad for a group that had started 45 minutes further back than anticipated in the morning, then done an excursion up the mountain for over an hour.

The tents were set up for us, so we had a quick unpack, then a cold shower (where I also washed my clothes) under a stream of water coming from a small pipe. My back was a little sore after the shower, but the hips were good. There is the start of a little blister on my right heel - but more of a hot spot than a blister. I'm tired, but not buggered. I'm looking forward to dinner and an early night in bed. We're at about 4,500 feet, so tonight will be cool - and I'll definitely be in need of the sleeping bag.

At 4:00, we went down to the memorial for a briefing, and tour of the battleground. So much history. So much suffering. So much courage. It is a sad, soulful, inspiring place.

Dinner was soup and pasta. And I made myself a milo - great stuff! Sam and Paul are starting to open up a bit, and get a bit more chatty. So is Catherine. Alex is still a little reserved, and he seemed to struggle in the afternoon after we'd visited the plane wreck. Still, everyone is getting on well enough. And Peter is starting to tell terrible jokes...

After dinner, the boys lit a fire for us. They then got 5 pieces of wood, and in 20 seconds flat had them woven together to form a chair for Catherine - amazing! We all stood around in the cool night air, holding our wet clothes in front of the fire. It was a still, quiet, cool night. The stars were shining brighter than you would ever see them in Sydney. The fire was crackling. And then the boys started practicing their singing. Their voices were amazing.

The sadness of the place, the boys haunting voices, the beauty of the bush all conspired to bring a tear to a few eyes. It was with a feeling of great completeness that I hit the sack just after 8PM.

Day 2 - Sogeri > Port Moresby > Kokoda > Kovello

I was pleasantly surprised last night on going to bed that it wasn't too hot or humid. Sogeri, being up on a tableland escapes some of the Port Moresby heat, so I was expecting a good nights sleep.

Unfortunately, that was not to be. Not sure why, but it seemed that I was awake every hour or two. I also woke at 4:20, my usual get up time, and couldn't get back to sleep. The good part was that I was able to complete my packing and have a shower with plenty of time till breakfast.

The pack weight feels ok, even with 4 litres of water. After Peter's help last night to lighten the load, I'm feeling a bit more confident that the pack won't weigh too much, and I might actually be able to do this. I must admit, I did put the Gastrolite back into the first aid kit - with my history of gastro bugs, if it's not in there I'm sure to catch one while we are away.

At breakfast (bacon, eggs, cereal, toast, coffee), Peter mentioned that we looked like a strong group. "What type of people do you worry about at this point?" we asked him.

"Well, there are two types of people who really struggle." he answered.

"First, there are the young guys in their early 20's, who think that their youth and fitness will get them through without having to do any specific training before they arrive."

"And then there are the older guys in their 40's who have lost 20kg, employed a personal trainer and bought all the right gear who think they will be ok, but still have more to do."

"Sh1t" I thought! "That almost exactly describes me!" I suppose I will find out a little bit today, and a lot more tomorrow if I am the one who he has to worry about...

After breakfast, we headed down the road to the old 'Koitaki Parade Ground'. This is where the troops, on returning from the track, chuffed that they had delayed a very experienced, well drilled, well armed Japanese army, who outnumbered them 6:1, were addressed by their General. The General castigated them, and gave them a right dressing down for being such failures. Apparently, he was lucky to get off the parade ground without being lynched. Now, the ground has been returned to the cows, and you can still make out the cricket oval where the men once stood 67 years ago.

To get to Koitaki, we drove along a pretty average road. The further we went from Port Moresby, the worse the road got, but the friendlier the people were, and the less razor wire was to be seen. We had to walk across a bridge on the farm to get to the ground. The bridge was two metal planks, about 4 metres above a fast flowing creek. The planks were spaced wheel track apart, and were about 30cm wide. I have to admit I didn't do well crossing. My knees were shaking and my feet were slow and unsteady. How the hell was I going to do another 50 or so creek crossings in the coming weeks, on unsteady logs, when I could hardly do this!?! I wasn't filling myself with confidence...

After Koitaki we trundled back down to the heat and humidity of Port Moresby, going straight to the airport. We arrived at the Hevilift terminal (a carport against the side of a shed) after the gate was opened by 2 security guards. It was 9:30, and our charter flight was due to leave at 10:30. Packs and people were weighed, which gave us all some peace of mind in that at least they were taking that part of safety seriously. A load sheet was completed, and the packs were taken through a doorway into the shed, ready for loading onto the plane. We waited. And waited. And waited some more. The door that the packs had been taken through was locked, and there were no Hevilift employees to be seen. Usually we would have flown Airlines PNG, but after their Twin Otter crashed near Isurava exactly two weeks ago on it's way to Kokoda, killing all 13 on board, they stopped flying to Kokoda. So, Hevilift was the next choice, but I was a bit nervous because all my money, and my passport was in the top pocket of my backpack, locked away in a shed with the Hevilift employees.

Finally at 12 o'clock we boarded the plane. There was much trepidation amongst the porters, and the trekkers too. The pilot was an American - about 50 years old - and seemed very competent. Takeoff was uneventful, and we were on our way to the 6,500 feet high Kokoda Gap. We were lucky that there was no cloud around, but it was still pretty thrilling to be flying through the gap with only about 500 feet separating us from the ground below - and not much more between us and sheer mountains on either side. Peter pointed out Isurava and several other villages on the track, and we saw trekkers wading through the choko fields below. Things were getting exciting!

An uneventful landing, and we unloaded our packs. Straight away I saw that the top pocket of my pack had been opened. I quickly checked, and was relieved to see that all my money and my passport were still there. Lucky!

We then donned packs and headed off in the heat of the day to Kokoda village. The village is on a bit of a plateau, about 25 metres above the surrounding area. Peter ran up the near vertical track, and we tried to follow. We were all breathing hard when we got to the top - and that was only a 25m climb! Following a 30 minute briefing, we sat in the shade eating pre-prepared sandwiches for lunch, then visited the museum while we waited for the rest of the porters to be brought from Port Moresby. We then had a look at weapons pits and the monuments, and waited. And waited some more. And some more. Although only a 25 minute flight each way back to Port Moresby, it wasn't until 3:30 that we finally started our trek proper. Not bad for a flight that was supposed to leave Moresby at 9:30AM for a 25 minute flight! But, this is Papua New Guinea - the land of the unexpected. I have a feeling we might see more things go bugaup over the coming couple of weeks.

The start of the trek was along flat ground, through an old rubber plantation. We were heading to Hoi Village, about a 90 minute walk up the track. However, after about 45 minutes we reached the outskirts of Kovello Village. Here, we were told that due to our late arrival, all the campsites at Hoi were being used (despite us booking one on the cool, refreshing stream there). So, the boys had decided that we should stay at Kovello instead. Just by coincidence, the locals had all dressed up in traditional costumes, and welcomed us with a traditional dance/sing along. It was only the women dancing - quite primitive. We learnt another word today - Wantoc. That is a relative or mate who you look after. I have a funny feeling that there was a bit of Wantoc at work at Kovello - it all just seemed to convenient.

The campsite was nice enough. They even had a shower of sorts - just a stream of water coming out of a pipe behind some plastic tarps. I had sweated heaps on the walk (though wasn't tired at all), so was very happy to be able to wash off under water which wasn't too cold. I unpacked ready for bed, when I discovered that my headlight/torch was missing from the top pocket of my backpack! I was really dirty with the little bstards at Hevilift! Luckily, Peter had a spare one. Then we discovered that Sam's torch had also been stolen - so he borrowed one from one of the porters. Not happy Jan!

Dinner was watery soup, heaps of Deb mashed potatoe, tuna with spices and vegetables of some sort, and was pretty tasty. My hips are sore from where the strap on the pack goes - hope they get used to that in a hurry.

We are now 45 minutes behind schedule, so will have to start 30 minutes early tomorrow. It's 7:20PM, and I'm tired. Peter and Alex are playing chess - apparently Peter is just learning. It's quiet. I'm pretty relaxed. So, it's off to bed.

A quick pee stop reveals toilets that are a big green plastic drum placed over a hole in the ground. At least I'll have somewhere to sit in the morning - which sends me to bed a happy man.