Relatively local fauna

This one knows how to enjoy its habitat

Throughout the last year, I visited wildlife reserves in other parts of the world, and saw koalas, kangaroos, Tasmanian devils and monkeys. However, other than the occasional bear on my parent’s farm, I’d never really taken the time to check out my own local wildlife reserves, and well pigeons and squirrels in the park don’t count.

On our 25 cent coin is the image of a caribou, a rather large deer type animal with antlers, that lives in the northern parts of the country and eat off lichen. I’ve been spending a bit of time with French travellers who are here for a few months, or more, who kept on bugging me about seeing caribou.

So with these three French friends, we decided to take a trip to Omega Park in the Outaouais. The park is actually just a half an hour drive form my parent’s place, but as it only opened after I left the area, I never got around to visiting it. So basically, it’s a kind of safari circuit that you do from the safety of your car. You can buy or bring carrots and feed the animals, but not the wild boars or the buffaloes. At this time of year, added to the list of exclusion are any creatures in heat with antlers, may they be wapiti, red dear or caribou.

The animals who do get to eat carrots are quite used to the system and will walk up to the car and try to stick their head in to get some food, hence keeping the windows as closed up as possible, but open enough to take lots and lots of pictures. Whether they get a carrot or not, they will drool and slobber all over the windows. All of them except one were ok if we did not give them food, except for one that kicked the passenger door. We did our best to get away from that one pretty quickly.

Excellent carrot eating skills

Our windows after deer slobber

There were many other kinds of animals with and without antlers, here they are in pictures!

A baby wild boar

Arctic Fox

We came for the caribou and well, they weren't really interested in us.

Those buffaloes are not to be reckoned with.

There were some spaces where we could step out of the car and walk around. It was nice to stretch our legs and hang out more closely with the deers.

Benjamin and his antlers

A shy one

The boys discover the fluffy qualities of milkweed in the fall.

Milkweed close-up

And back into the car for the second leg of the adventure. 

Coyote pretty

Hiding fail

An arctic wolf

Love how they match with the scenery

An Alpine ibex. Imported from Europe, it can stand winter, however the kids
are usually born in February and struggle to stay alive in our winter conditions.

Wonder if its name is Baloo

And just at the end, there was another area where we could step out wand visit with the fallow.

We could also feed the fishies!

A few extra shots before sundown.

Loic, Marie & Benjamin aka The Frenchies with the Thunderbird

I wanted to take this one home with me.

Yes, autumn in Québec is quite pretty.

An afternoon at the Buddhist temple

A bell by the temple

Having taken a look at Lisa’s lonely planet, I decided to check out the Inwangsa Buddhist temple on top of the Inwangsan mountain.  It seemed to be pretty close to the subway station and easy to get to. Finally it was the quite the hike up but the view was pretty impressive as the mountain is 338 meters. I walked around and there weren’t many people around. The actual temple seemed closed but after following paths randomly, I found other meditation areas, including one at the bottom of these two eroded boulders that reminded me a bit of the remarkable rocks at Kangaroo Island.

The eroded rocks

As I kept on walking, a Korean man that had greeted me earlier told me I was heading for a dead end. He took a look at my map and tried to explain to me where I was supposed to go and was also talking about the time, which I didn’t really get. I simply suggested that he lead and I would follow. I stopped along the way to take pictures of the view, and of this giant Buddha like shape in the rocks.

The Buddha like shape in rocks

I had lost sight of my guide and when I came round the corner, he was coming back towards me, but he was now naked save his sandals and backpack.

He told me not to be scared but that it was naked prayer time for the men. He wasn’t very menacing, and I didn’t know if it was true or not, but the Lonely Planet had mentioned respecting ongoing rituals. As my guide was worried about my going ahead and finding other naked praying men who would be upset, I suggested waiting near by while he went ahead to pray. This didn’t seem to suit him so instead, we found a spot in the woods and he stuck a round staying mostly a few meters away, still naked, and not praying. He would come up to me to look at the time on my iPod, telling me in pretty good English how much time was left in the half hour of praying time.

I tried to focus on the beautiful view of the city.

A view similar to the one I had during that half-hour

When the half hour was up, we got up, and the naked man gave me a hug. He also showed me how he put on his loincloth, to then just take it off and just put on his shorts. We went by some other outdoor praying areas and he showed me a natural source where I filled up my water bottle. I also found out that he was an engineer and in his 30s though I don’t remember his name. We came to a fork and I wanted to catch a glimpse of the old fortress wall, and to get away from this strange encounter, so we parted ways and I took my time to reflect on what had just happened, still debating whether there was really a naked prayer time. In retrospect, I also wish I had taken his picture, but instead, I’ll just have the visual memory that will fade eventually…

The ruins make for a nice frame

Ubud en mode relaxation

L'entrée de l'un des nombreux temples

Bien que les coqs semblaient chanter toute la nuit, je crois que je me suis finalement levée vers 8h. J’ai finalement rencontré la propriétaire qui a préparé le petit déjeuner.

Au menu, des fruits frais, y compris des bananes et de la papaye, et des crêpes je crois. Je n’aime toujours pas vraiment la papaye, mais comme c’était assez léger, je faisais de mon mieux pour les manger.

J’ai aussi fait connaissance avec l’autre invitée de la place, Fern, une Newyorkaise de mon âge qui faisait un voyage de quelques mois. On a discuté un peu et je lui ai aussi proposé le tour en vélo. N’étant pas une grande cycliste, elle a hésité, mais on a finalement choisi un tour parmi les tours pour dans deux jours. On s’est aussi donné rendez-vous pour le soir même, question d’avoir quelqu’un avec qui souper.

De mon côté, j’avais entendu dire que se faire masser était un incontournable. Encore une fois, j’ai fait mes recherches en ligne et je suis allée pour un entre-deux entre le haut de gamme et la petite place au bout de la ruelle. La place était à environ une demi-heure à pied d’où j’étais et les indications étaient plus ou moins claires. Finalement, c’est en revenant sur mes pas, car j’étais allée trop loin, que j’ai trouvé la place. À la base, je voulais juste y jeter un coup d’œil, mais finalement il y avait de la place alors j’en ai profité. Au programme, une heure et demie de massage, une heure de facial et une heure de traitement capillaire avec un yogourt et des fruits, sans oublier plusieurs tasses de tisane à la citronnelle. Le tout pour environ $35 je crois.

L’équipe ne parlait pas beaucoup d’anglais, mais assez pour me demander si ça allait. J’ai vraiment aimé le traitement capillaire qui a laissé mes cheveux tout soyeux. Il était environ 14 h quand je suis sortie, je suis donc rentrée à pied (non, no transport) et je me suis arrêtée en route pour une petite bouchée, mais pas trop, car je voulais garder de la place pour souper. Par contre, je ne savais pas que j’avais commandé une salade et j’ai hésité, car il n’est pas recommandé de manger des aliments sans pelure. Mais bon, tant pis, j’avais faim!

La vue sur un champ de riz pendant mon dîner

Ce soir-là avec Fern, on est allé manger des tapas et déguster des cocktails à quelques portes de notre logis. Ils étaient bien bons, mais un peu chers, on s’est promis une place plus abordable pour le lendemain.

Le lendemain, je me suis décidée que j’irais faire les boutiques sur une rue avoisinante. Il y avait des beaux morceaux, mais ceux que j’aimais étaient soit dans des boutiques apparemment non négociables ou ne me faisaient pas tout à fait. Je me suis arrêtée au Kafé, le café granole de la place où se trouvent les ex-pats de la place. La nourriture était excellente et l’ambiance très cool. J’y suis restée quelque temps y lire mon livre et à boire encore plus de tisane à la citronnelle.

J’ai ensuite continué de remonter et j’ai finalement acheté quelques morceaux « négociés ». J’avais beau savoir la théorie que tu dois te dire un prix et quitter si on ne te fais pas le prix que tu veux, mais mon cerveau d’occidentale se disait, mais c’est 30% de rabais, c’est bien ça. Alors je peut-être trop payé pour ma robe et mon haut, mais bon ils sont cools. Je suis aussi retournée au marché me sentant plus courageuse afin d’y dénicher des paréos. Une dame m’a pris par la main pour que je regarde sa marchandise, le prix était bien trop élevé. J’ai commencé à moitié prix, mais prise au jeu, j’ai remonté. Et une fois l’achat fait, la dame du kiosque voisin m’en proposait d’autres à moindre prix. Je me sentais mal, j’avais l’impression de m’être fait léser. L’expérience avait laissé un goût amer et j’ai quitté encore une fois rapidement. Visiblement, je ne l’avais pas la twist. Mais remarque, ce sont de très beaux paréos :).

Ce soir-là, Fern et moi on est allée pour une bouffe plus indonésienne. C’était dans un warong, nom donné à des genres de petits restos à travers le pays. Il y avait des plats tout prêts et on choisissait une cuillérée de ceci et une cuillérée de cela. C’était bien bon, et j’ai fini avec une glace au thé vert. Finalement, je me suis endormie assez tôt, au son de gamelan du temple voisin.

Des lanternes dans une ruelle

First day in Bali

While I had said goodbye to Australia, my trip wasn’t quite over as I had planned a few stops in Asia, mostly to visit friends. (Might as well when you’re already on the other side of the world.)

My first stop was the island of Bali. As I was heading later on up to Jakarta, I figured that I might as well stop to this famous Indonesian island on the way. I hadn’t done much research but had settled for three places to visit throughout the island, Ubud, Lovina and Sanur.

I started with Ubud. I had booked a room in a small guesthouse just off one of the main streets in town. My bookings had been made back in March with the help of the forums on tripadvisor. I also chose to be picked up by the guesthouse’s driver for an extra $20 as I didn’t want to find myself bargaining at the airport with no idea what I’d be negociating.

On the road from the airport to Ubud

The heat that hit me when I got off the plane told me I was in a very different part of the world, and this was proven to me even more so as we drove off from the airport. The ride was a bit more than an hour and the driver changed lanes many times, watching out for the motorbikes that were everywhere, zigzagging their way through. He used his horn on quite a regular basis, mostly to let the motorbikes and scooters know we were coming. We saw one small motorbike mishap but both the driver and passenger seemed ok. While most did wear helmets, some didn’t which surprised me quite a bit.

The road was filled with shops with very words that didn’t mean much to me, except perhaps words like polisi for police.

We finally made it to the Ubud Dream guesthouse. The driver showed me to my room. It was quite spacious with a huge bed. The bathroom was interesting, as it didn’t have a sink so I had to use the shower to wash my hands. But it did have a normal western toilet!

The room was on the top floor so I went down to ask about paying. The owner wasn’t there and this other lady told me to pay when I’d go out. She also gave me a map with restaurant and other suggestions as well as the wi-fi access code. Since I did want to go out and explore, and find water as my body would probably not cope well with the local tap water, I came back wanting to pay. However the lady repeated, “when I’d go out”. I then realised that she meant - when I’d leave, on my last day I would need to pay.

So I headed out and found a convenience store and water. I also heard French and asked what turned out to be Franco-Manitobans about the area and their suggestions. They were heading out the next day for a bike tour so I thought I would look into that option. I then kept on walking up toward the market. On the way I had a few locals asking me if I needed transport. It usually went like this: “ Hello Miss, transport? ” or “ Hello Miss, taxi? ”. I always said no thanks and kept on. I made it to the local market and was overwhelmed with all these people trying to sell me stuff. I did not feel up to the challenge of negotiating so I left quickly.

I also picked up a few brochures, including a couple for the cycling tours and made my way back to the room where I looked up trying to find restaurant recommendations.

I was more or less successful in my online search but headed out around sunset to find food. This time around, I was not only being offered transport but tickets to the various gamelan and dance shows taking place in the local temples that evening.

Food was my priority and I wandered up back near the market and tried to find something that wasn’t too upscale. I found this lantern lit path that lead to an outdoor restaurant overlooking a rather dark river. I picked a table with a thatch roof and stared out into the dark, listening to the sounds of the night and blurbs of conversations at neighbouring tables.

I don’t quite recall what I ordered but there were some vegetables in it and I was surprised that it was served cold. I didn’t mind as it was a warm night and I had it with a Bintang, the local beer that would become a staple of my Balinese evening meals.

After this $5 meal, I made my way back home. I was tired as I had gotten up at 5 am Melbourne time to get my early flight but somehow, I stopped on the way to go and check out one of the temple shows.

I avoided the main spot and ended up picking an all women gamelan troupe called Luh Luwih. Only a handful of spectators were there and those on stage outnumbered us. At first, it was only instrumental (Ujan Mas) until a girls’ troupe came on. Some dancers were better than others and, as I’m sure many have observed before me, there was a lot of focus on hand and eye movement. I believe their first dance was the Gabor as the girls danced with flowers. A man came out for a warrior type dance and came back for what I believe was the bumblebee dance.

Here are a few videos of the performance.

The music was quite entrancing and that, combined with my lack of sleep, made me almost doze off a couple of times. So even though the performance was only about an hour. I was quite delighted when it ended and I was finally able to go to bed. The night had become a bit cooler, and with the ceiling fan and open windows I slept quite well.

Paysages, prisons et démons

Wine Glass Bay

C’est encore un peu congestionnée que j’ai parcouru le chemin pour aller un jeter un coup d’œil à Wine Glass Bay près des monts Hazards. En anglais, hazard ne veut pas dire hasard dans le sens d’imprévisible, mais plutôt dans le sens de s’hasarder vers une voie dangereuse. Pour se rendre à la baie, il fallait monter, s’arrêter pour la vue et ensuite redescendre pour s’y rendre. Une heure et demie à l’aller, idem au retour. Je crois que par ce temps-ci j’avais eu ma dose de randonnées australiennes, et mon rhume n’aidait probablement pas. N’empêche que le paysage était quand même bien, mais encore mieux l’histoire du nom de l’endroit.

Certains diront que la baie a la forme d’une coupe de vin, mais ça fait plutôt référence à la couleur de la baie lorsque l’Européen a nommé l’endroit. Les aborigènes y étaient en train de saigner la baleine qu’ils avaient capturée et l’eau était devenue rouge avec le sang. Comme notre guide l’a si bien dit, ce n’est pas ce que les agences touristiques veulent promouvoir, mais c’est la vérité.

Sur le chemin vers la baie

Notre après-midi a surtout servi à parcourir les quelques centaines de kms qui nous séparaient de Port Arthur. On a quand même fait quelques arrêts photographiques.

Ce soir-là, notre gîte donnait sur un espace gazonné prisé par les pademelons, un petit marsupial. J’en ai donc profité pour aller les observer sous le faisceau de la lampe de poche. Absolument adorables, mais plus sauvage que ceux que j’avais vus proche de Melbourne car ceux-là étaient dans un endroit sans prédateur.

Un pont fait par des prisonniers

La tombée du jour près de Port Arthur

Le lendemain matin, on est allé voir le site qui a fait la réputation de Port Arthur, le camp prisonnier. Au premier coup d’œil, le paysage paraît très bucolique et je suis certaine que les premiers prisonniers croyaient qu’ils s’y la couleraient douce. L’endroit était utilisé au début, en 1830, pour y extraire les arbres à l’aide la main d’œuvre incarcérée. Rapidement, les prisonniers sont devenus une main d’œuvre essentielle au fonctionnement de la colonie, fabriquant de tout, passant des briques aux chaussures. Le surplus qui ne servait pas à Port Arthur était vendu à Hobart et ailleurs. Dès 1833, on y envoyait les criminels récidivistes. Par 1840, ils étaient  plus de 2000 prisonniers à occuper l’endroit. On devait y être très tassé. Le système carcéral de l’endroit récompensait ceux qui ont bien voulu se réformer et certains sont devenus des hommes libres qui ont su exploiter leurs talents de forgeron ou de cordonnier. Cependant, la plupart demeurèrent et éventuellement, au lieu d’utiliser le châtiment corporel, on utilisa l’isolation comme punition. Ces prisonniers devenaient des numéros et n’avaient aucune interaction avec les autres prisonniers. Même dans la chapelle, chacun devait porter un capuchon et se tenir dans un isoloir le temps de la cérémonie. (Normalement, j’aurais écrit célébration eucharistique, mais il me semble que le terme célébrer ne s’applique pas vraiment dans ce cas-ci.) Certains ont tenté de s’échapper, mais Port Arthur se trouve sur une péninsule, et le passage étroit qui relie l’endroit à la terre ferme était occupé par des chiens prêts à attaquer.

Le lieu carcéral de Port Arthur

Les militaires et leurs familles habitaient aussi à Port Arthur. Ils avaient leurs maisons, et leur parc pour se promener, gardant ainsi leurs habitudes bourgeoises.

En 1853, on cessa de transporter les criminels vers la Tasmanie et le lieu devint une institution pour les prisonniers souffrant de problèmes physiques et mentaux.

Le lieu carcéral fut fermé en 1877. Les gens de la place ont tenté de se dissocier de l’endroit en le renommant Carnarvon. Pourtant, dès la fermeture, des touristes, ayant eu écho des histoires d’horreur de Port Arthur commencèrent à visiter l’endroit et rapidement, le gouvernement a pris le relais et fit l’acquisition des bâtiments restants pour en faire le lieu touristique de c’est aujourd’hui. Hélas, la violence est revenue hanter l’endroit en 1996 alors qu’un homme armé a tué 35 personnes et en blessa 19 autres.

La *vue* d'une cellule

Les vestiges du Pauper's Depot

Le district militaire

Le moulin devenu pénitencier

À gauche, l'île où ils enterraient les morts, à droite, la péninsule où on
éduquait les jeunes prisonniers mineurs.

Le parc où se promenait les bourgeois

L'église n'a en fait jamais été bénie

On a finalement dû laisser derrière nous ce lieu à la fois paisible et sinistre pour aller visiter un autre genre de démon : le diable de Tasmanie.

Un petit diable

Depuis une dizaine d’années, une maladie contagieuse est en train de décimer la population de diables de Tasmanie. C’est pourquoi le Tasmanian Devil Conservation Park les élève en captivité. Le jour où il n’en restera plus un seul dans la nature, ils auront des bêtes à réintroduire. Cependant, il faudra être certain qu’il n’en reste plus un seul afin que la maladie ne se propage point parmi les nouvelles bêtes. Ceux au parc sont en pleine forme! On a adapté les animaux à un horaire diurne plutôt que nocturne en les nourrissant en plein jour. Voici une vidéo de deux d’entre eux en train de se battre pour un bout de viande.

Le parc a aussi d’autres animaux comme des oiseaux de proie, et des kangourous. On a pu d’ailleurs nourrir ces derniers.

Un quoll, un autre animal vorace.

Le contenu de ma main rapidement dévoré par
le kangourou.

Voilà, c’était notre dernier arrêt avant de retourner à Hobart. Ce soir-là, je suis sortie avec Jacinthe, une amie du swing. Tous les vendredis, il y a un concert gratuit près de la place Salamanca. Après le set du groupe ska on est allé manger des fruits de mer, miam!

Le lendemain, je suis repartie pour Melbourne chez Claudine et Simon, le temps de deux dodos pour mes derniers préparatifs avant de quitter le pays. On a écouté deux des films des Pirates des Caraïbes pour être prêts pour le dernier volet en version 3D imax, et après le film dimanche soir, j’ai fait la surprise à des amis en allant danser à la soirée blues. Je me suis aussi envoyé 3 kg de souvenirs, question d’avoir encore un peu de place pour mes prochains arrêts…

From the mountains to the country side

Cradle mountain in the back

Lucky for us, the sky cleared up on out third day of this Tasmanian tour and we set off early to walk around Dove Lake at Cradle Mountain National Park. We had four hours at our disposal to either hike a nearby summit or just do an easy walk around the lake. In normal circumstances, I would have gladly done some ascending walk but as I was still feeling under the weather, I chose to go around the lake at my own pace. In other words, I stopped often and took many pictures. Here are some of them.

This was called Ballroom Forest

As I was coming back towards the starting point, I came across many more walkers and was quite delighted that we had had an early start making way for a peaceful walk. I had also assumed that I’d have another hour to wait at the bus for those who had taken the more challenging walk, but finally they had shortened it so I was the last one on.

Before we left the national park, we went to the ecotourism centre, and I read up on the local flora and fauna. I mostly enjoyed the ongoing photo exhibit, which had some really beautiful shots of the area. We also went up to the area where Gustav Weindorfer had settled with his wife. They fell in love with the area and had purchased some of the land to welcome visitors. Eventually, his dream came true and the area stretching from Cradle Mountain to Lake St Clair, became a scenic reserve and wildlife sanctuary in 1922.

The view from where Wendorfer settled

 Also, as we made our way North, our guide pointed out a post office tree. Located between Lorrina and Sheffield, it was known as the “Middlesex Post Office,” between 1912 and 1914. The Lorrina Postmaster would come there to deliver and pick up mail and apparently, for many years after, one would stop by the tree on their way into town to pick up letters to be sent. As a tribute to that era, they have recreated the tree at the local post office in Sheffield.

The original one

The one in Sheffield

Sheffield also has a thing for murals. Many of the town’s building exterior walls are adorned with artwork. Some of them are really cool, and well some a bit less so. Here is my favourite one.

As we made out way towards Devenport, we stopped at the Narrawtanpu nation reserve. I was mostly excited about coming up close and personal with my first wombats. I had seen some before, but only in the dark. They were minding their own business nibbling here and there. And if we got too close, they would run off as even though they sort of look like a kind of bulky bear like creature, they’re pretty fast! The park also had a bunch of kangaroos, so we also got pretty close to them. I was also quite excited as we finally had some sun and blue skies. Finally, a break from the tuque and the gloves! Clearly we were now in a different territory: i.e. farmland country. As we were driving, our guide also took us past his parents’ farm. And when we stopped at a local chocolate factory, he met up with them as well. I guess that as he lives in Hobart, he doesn’t get to see them very often. As for the chocolate, I had a delicious hot chocolate with chilli. It was quite filling that I didn’t really bother with dinner that night.

Wombat!

And to think that before April, I had yet seen any Kangaroos,
by now I had seen hundreds.

After dropping off the French members of our group who had now completed their tour, we headed to the local Adventure Tour home. This place was a two-storey home, and it felt as though we were visiting someone’s home while they weren’t there. That’s how homey it was! As the Swiss and German decided to play some drinking games, I chose once again to get some rest in the hope of regaining my voice more fully :).

St Columba Falls

The next morning, which was day four of our adventure, we headed off to Launceston to pick up the new members of our tour, 2 guys from Hong Kong and 3 from Korea, who had signed up just for the east coast part of it. After meeting our new friends, we headed for lunch at St Columba falls. But before that, we stopped in Legerwood where trees have been transformed in sculptures paying tribute to fallen soldiers from that town. The trees were originally planted in 1918 as tribute to the soldiers, and were transformed by a chain saw artist about 10 years ago when the trees were found to be no longer safe. The sculptures portray the soldiers in action, with their loved ones or doing whatever job they did before heading to war.

One of the tribute trees

After lunch, we stopped by a cheese factory. I had fun tasting the cheddars as we started with young cheeses and moved on to the older and more flavourful one. I bought some to bring back to my hosts in Melbourne as I knew they’d enjoy it. As we’d gotten there, we were following a bunch of cattle that were slowing the traffic down and had to avoid stepping in their dung as we stepped off the bus. Alas I forgot about it in my hurry to get way back on and did my best not to spread the fresh shit over the bus’ floor. Luckily it wasn’t too smelly and our last stop for the day was the sandy Bay of Fires. So such as a cat with a litter box, I managed to get the dung off my boot and we also used some sand on the floor to help pick it up.

The animal traffic

The bay itself was pretty cool. It was named Bay of Fires as Europeans observed the fires made by the Aboriginal. We had fun climbing over the reddish rocks, apparently the red is form lichen, and taking pictures. One of the Swiss boys even went for a swim!

That evening, our home was located in Bicheno. Our guide told us of Wauba Debar, an aboriginal who was stolen from her tribe as a teenager to be owned by a sealer. She saved both her husband and another sealer during her storm. And when she passed away, locals buried her as a hero. Bicheno is also a good spot to see Fairy Penguins. Even though I had seen a handful of them in Kangaroo Island, I as quite keen to join the intimate tour offered by a local company. Melissa & I, as well as a Korean couple, went on the tour at nightfall as the others prepared dinner. Unfortunately, a random couple walking on the beach chose to be offended when one of the guides asked them to leave the area. This, combined with the full moon that discourages the penguins with its brightness, made for not many penguins. However, amongst the ones we did see, some came quite close while others stayed on the rocks below seeming to be having quite the conversation. Our guides had many things to say about the penguins that should no longer be called Fairy penguins as it is deemed offensive by some. My favourite fact was that no penguin is black and white, but rather dark blue and white. Also, before I left for my trip last year, my aunt Molly told me to go see the penguins. I believe she had seen the ones at Phillip Island near Melbourne where it’s quite crowded. Even though this was in a different location, I felt this would be a good personal tribute to her memory as she passed away in December as that this recommendation had been part of our last conversation before I left.

The sunset that night