To properly experience a country, it is said that you must look at it from many perspectives and at various different levels. One of thebest ways to see a country, at least geographically is from the top down. So I decided to take Mr Beem up to Mount Wilhelm.

To be perfectly correct Mount Kaiser Wilhelm, height 4506 metres, location Simbu Province in the Highlands of Papua New Guinea. It is the countries Highest Peak.Mr Beem for those who do not already know is a BMW F650 Dakar off-road touring motorcycle.

We left Lae on Good Friday. All set for a big adventure over the Easter long weekend holiday. The adventure started just two hours out off Lae. A part of the road had been washed away. The river that ran parallel to the road had eroded its banks and undermined the highway. Bulldozers were already there and they had started to push river gravel out of the riverbed in order to make a track beside the original road, so getting around that part was made easy. Then we came to the bridge that was no more, it too had been washed away. As you can imaging this area was a hive of activity. All sorts of moods were being displayed on the various faces that had come to this sudden break in their journeys. The local people from the area were having a ball, they were acting as porters and carrying people and cargo over the river for what they assured me was a very reasonable fee. They even offered to carry Mr Beam over for an extra cheap price because they liked him. I asked about alternate routes to get around this obstacle and was assured by the would-be porters that there was none.

I was then informed by another guy, someone that did not have a stake in the thriving porterage business that there was in fact a turn off a kilometre back down the road that led to a place lower down the river where vehicles could cross.

Off we went back down the road, two oil drums with a tree branch across the top signalled the beginning of the alternate route. Here common sense overcame bravado and Greg Harris and I agreed that it would make more sense to put Mr Beem in the back of Greg's Land cruiser Ute, than to try and ride down the deeply rutted and muddy road, the other thing being that we could not be sure how deep the river crossing would be, it turned out that it was only a foot under the window of the Land Cruiser, about four feet deep. This move had one other upside; if the Bike were in the back of the Ute then we would only have to pay the toll for one vehicle. You might think that this is just me being stingy, that is until you realise that there are five tolls for this little excursion, each costing K10.00.

Now this is an interesting question. Do people have the moral right to take advantage of situation like this one? I am in two minds about this issue. Firstly, if it is their ground they should derive some benefit if other people wish to use it, but to pay fifty kina to travel over two kilometres of dirt that can barely be called a track might be considered by some to be highway robbery, pardon the pun. Secondly, we already pay the National Government by way of taxes and vehicle registration a toll to use their roads, so if they cannot provide the service for which they are being paid. It makes sense that they should make alternate arrangements and bare the cost of those arrangements. Perhaps they should make an agreement with the landowners directly so the motoring public can go about their business without being hassled by homemade barricades. It is a complicated issue but a firm policy should be made and adhered to because most of the people I meet were not happy with the situation and that invariable leads to trouble. When you ride alone on a motorcycle for long distances these are the kinds of things that you have the opportunity to think about.

Another thought that went through my head as I was riding along the flat expanse of the Markham Valley just about to start the steep windy climb up the Kassam Pass to the beginning of the Highlands was if all the countries in the world could be thought of as food, say for example rice, and then if we were to think of the people in those countries as herbs and spices. It would make sense to say that it is the people that are the true flavour of a country and nowhere would this be truer than in Papua New Guinea.

If you have ever had the good fortune to travel around Europe then you will know that you can travel very short distances and experience great change. As you cross the boarder from France to Germany it is not only a change in language but also a change in atmosphere and attitude. In the space of a few kilometres you really do know that you have changed countries. This is equally as noticeable when you make the assent up the Kassam Pass.

This piece of road is a motor bikers dream, long open curves followed buy tight switchbacks the short steep straights into another peddle scrapping hairpin bend. If you have a bike like Mr Beam, a 650 cc single cylinder fuel injected power house between your legs then it is hard not to love this piece of bitumen. It was on this assent that I passed a group of children standing at the side of the road, when they saw me coming I could see them start to jump up and down and the little ones point at the bike. As I passed them they all called "STRETCH OUT". When I reach the top of the pass Greg was already there, having a smoke and enjoying the highlands chilly air. I asked him what does "stretch out mean". He said its local slang for "give it all you have got". That's what Mr Beam likes to do "STRETCH OUT".

As I left the Kassam Pass behind me, the cool fresh air was invigorating, quite different from the warm humid breeze that had been blowing in the Markham Valley. The houses that lined the sides of the road were quite different also. Instead of being square and raised up on stilts to allow for better ventilation as they are in the lowlands. These highland homes were round; with thickly thatch roofs, they were built on the ground or dug slightly in to the ground in an effort to conserve heat. Most off the walls were made of rough timber instead of the decoratively woven matting that you would find in the lower lying areas. The changes were nothing short of dramatic. I felt that I must have missed the boarder crossing because this defiantly was another country. The way that the gardens were laid out the crops that were being cultivated was also much different. Cabbages, carrots, onions and potatoes, in fact all the temperate weather vegetables were there, in all their fresh crispy glory.

This part of the road is not in the best condition. Which means that if you are on a motorcycle then you really do have to concentrate. Potholes can spring up, halfway around a bend or at the top of the crest of a hill. This can be an alarming surprise and makes for some fancy footwork; it can also give you a serious case of white knuckles. The good thing is that a bike can miss many of these unexpected hazards by weaving in and out, which if you get time to pick your track can be really good fun.

By 6:00 pm we had arrived in the Eastern highland town of Goroka. On Good Friday night there is not much happening anywhere and this is especially true in Goroka. So as the saying goes "Early to bed early to rise". Next morning was cold and misty and the town was deserted. The Bird of Paradise Hotel does an excellent breakfast for such mornings so we had one of those and off down the road we went. It was really quite cold as we left Goroka for Kundiawa.

That is soon forgotten, this area is rugged hills and plunging valleys. It is absolutely picturesque. Because it was Easter Saturday there was dozens of young children on the side of the road and at little stalls who were selling garlands of flowers. These flowers were all the more vivid as they appeared against a ghostly misty background of the early morning fog. Four hours latter we drove into the town of Kundiawa. Kundiawa has a bit of a frontier town feel about it. Busy, rough and a little unloved it's a mid sized PNG market town. It is also the turn off point to take the road to Mount Wilhelm.

If your driving in a car or a bus you are really only taking in everything that is happening outside through your eyes, you are insulated by the structure of the vehicle. On a motorcycle you are actually immersed in your surroundings, you are a part of them. All of your senses are exposed. If it is raining you are getting wet, if the sun is shinning, you are basking in its warmth. If you drive through a heard of sheep you smell them as much as see them, cows the same, and as for the pigs I won't even go there. In the highlands it is like spring all year round, with a nice fresh nip in the air. Consequently most people maintain a fire even during the day and the smell of wood smoke has to be the most characteristic smell of this region for me.

The other thing that you feel more than people in cars and busses is the road. You are forced to evaluate the road conditions constantly. My evaluation of the road from Kundiawa to Mount Wilhelm is that it is the worst road in the country. It hangs precariously on the side of a cliff for the most part. It is only one vehicle wide and subject to slipping away on the low side and landslides from the high side.It brings a new meaning to the term off road. Mr Beem fully loaded hits the scales at a little over 200 kilogram's and after an hour on this road my wrists and arms felt heavier than he did.

I was forced to put the bike in the back of Greg's Ute in order to prevent an accident that was sure to come. In the Land Cruiser I had the time to look around and take in this striking scenery. People here seem to plant their gardens vertical on the steepest sides of the hills, which makes it appear as if the valley has been wallpapered in a patchwork design. Apparently this is to prevent pigs from raiding their crops.Three hours latter we arrived at Betty Higgins Trout Farm and Guesthouse. The end of one journey and the beginning of another.

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