Day 10 - Thursday 27 April, Owers Corner - Bomana War Cemetary - Port Moresby

Team Kick Ass at the end of the Track

Well I have been a little slack.  One of the girls from the trip asked me yesterday for the link to my blog. I suddenly realised that I still had another entry to go....oopsies.

Nobody really slept in that morning at Owers Corner, we stayed in bed (well not bed, you know what I mean) longer than normal but were still up early.  I think Kat slept on a table.  The place looked like the aftermath of a big night out, I guess it kind of was.

We were all still excited.  Owers Corner was truly a beautiful place to wake up. We packed up our gear and tents for the final time on the track. It was time for most of the porters to head back to their homes. A lot of them live in villages along the track. We said our individual goodbye's.  They had carved wooden walking sticks for us, which they gave us as we spoke.  We then had a group goodbye. It was really nice. These men are simply amazing.  After the thank you they just turned around and disappeared back into the jungle.  Most of these guys do what we just did in three days. A few of the porters were coming with us to Port Moresby.  

We had some breakfast. I have to say I was excited about eating my last ration pack meal. Totally excited.

Legendary Deb and myself at Owers Corner

Not long after breakfast we were once again graced by the presence of the men in skins. We heard them coming up the track, so a few of us formed a guard of honour (they had given us mars bars afterall). This is something commonly done along the track when coming across other trekkers.  

Linked situps, the men in skins, some now thankfully in
shorts, judgementally looking on

Mexican wave pushups at our last workout. Some clearly cheating. I'm looking at you Whiteleg.
Me barefoot and clearly over my hookworm paranoia. 

Greg wanted to have a final team workout. A few kicked up and complained, we were missing a few members for this workout.  It was a fun workout. Mexican Wave pushups and linked situps.  Out of all the workouts this is the one that I have the most fond memories of.  The hookworm one is close though. The men in skins were watching and muttering that we were crazy.  We were crazy? Dudes have you looked in the mirror lately? Do you know that wearing skins with no shorts over the top is just plain ewww?

We waited around for a while, we had two mini buses coming to pick us up.  They arrived bearing fresh food.  Sandwiches and chicken. So good. We ate the whole way to Bomana War Cemetery, well I did anyway.

The drive to the Cemetery was the hairiest road trip I have ever been on, and I've done a few. Worse than driving in Thailand, worse than mountains in Samoa. People slept on the bus, I'm not sure how, I spent the trip with my eyes either shut tight or wide open in terror. Beautiful though!

This is what happens when you
sleep on a table and don't really
sleep

And this

Happy and fed Team Kick Ass

Bomana war cemetery is a beautiful peaceful place. The cemetery contains 8,823 burials, 700 of them unidentified. The Port Moresby Memorial stands behind the cemetery and commemorates almost 750 men of the Australian Army (inc PNG forces), the Merchant Navy and the RAF who lost their lives in PNG and who have no known graves. It's the largest war cemetery in the Pacific Region.

Bomana War Cemetery

Our mood at the cemetery was in stark contrast to how happy we were this morning. Everybody was unusually quiet.  It was that kind of place. A place of peace, a place that warranted deep respect and a place of reflection.

After a briefing, nobody really spoke to each other. It seemed like a very personal and I guess introspective time for everyone. Alone, we wandered between row upon row of gravestones. This was the place where everything we had heard about hit home, and it hit home hard. The place where the stories, the numbers of men lost, were now no longer things we had listened to and read about but something we could see with our own eyes. The place where everything became real.

It was a sad place, a place that commanded the utmost respect. Completely emotional for everybody.

Anzac Day was obviously a couple of days earlier.  Wreaths were still lying under the cenotaph.  I picked a frangipani flower and laid my own.

Back on the bus, everything was very quiet for a long time.  We were all still quite emotional.  

The porters decorated the bus while we were looking around
Bomana

Back in Moresby we had the afternoon free. We unpacked all our gear and headed to our rooms.  And a shower. A warm shower. To say I was filthy would be an understatement. Kerri and I also weighed ourselves.  I may be the first person in history to put on weight on the Kokoda Track. Yes that's right, I came home heavier!  The rest of the day was spent in the pool, at the bar and in the restaurant.  We all had dinner that night, some of us spoke of our experiences.  All of our Kina that we owed from Joeys black book was on the table.  I thought it would be a late night given the amount of money, mostly mine I think, but we were all quite tired.

We flew out the next morning. After landing in Brisbane I had the same sense of being in a different world as I did when I arrived in Port Moresby. It was nice to be home although strangely I was also a little sad. I think it has something to do with mateship. I made some great mates on this trip. 

And I'll just add, at Brisbane airport, I was last through customs because somebody had to unpack her bag and have everything inspected. Always the dodgy one!

Liam Mulligan, one of the guys from Team One, put together a little video of our trip. He did a great job, and summed up beautifully at the end the feelings of everybody. Watch it! Its awesome.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uYuwSKs4tsc


I actually feel a little melancholy that my blog is finished now.  Tonight I sat and read over some of my posts, remembering what an amazing experience this was and thinking about the fantastic friends I made.  I feel so lucky to have been able to do this with such a great group of people and great outdoor adventure company.  A pilgrimage that every Australian should make, a pilgrimage of respect and gratitude.