Sometimes, the challenge is getting to the start of a trek in PNG.
The trek leader, Zac had arrived in PNG several days beforehand to organise supplies.
My fellow trekker, Ian had arrived the previous day and assisted Zac in the final packing.
Two days of travelling found me sitting in a rudimentary aircraft hangar on the fringes of Jackson's International Airport at Port Moresby at 7am!
A small charter plane had been ordered to deliver us to Kokoda. A single engine Cessna parked on the tarmac awaited loading. 16 backpacks were checked in and weighed - 380kg of cargo!
Our pilot, "Aussie Dan" took the controls and we departed just before 8am.
Crossing the Owen Stanley Ranges, we flew through Kokoda Gap with views of the Myola Lakes to the right and through the jungle, we spied ridgetop sections of the Kokoda track on the left. We even managed some fleeting glimpses of the Isurava Memorial through breaks in the low cloud.
After circuiting a full 360 degrees and descending through a thick blanket of low cloud nestled in the valley, Dan performed a textbook landing on the soft grassy Kokoda airstrip.
We offloaded the voluminous supplies from the plane, waited for our transportation to arrive, and then reloaded the provisions onto the PMV
PMV, or public motor vehicle, is the name given for any type of public transport in PNG. It could be a dilapidated mini-bus, or a utility with no seats, but space in the rear tray top. No airconditioned 4WD for us hardy trekkers. Ours was a truck with a cab at the front and the rear section with two facing wooden benches and a metal frame with a canvas tarp for a canopy. I was happy to be one of the "locals" and ride in the back with Ian.
It was a 40 mnute drive along a poorly maintained pot-holed road from Kokoda Village passing through palm oil plantations before arriving at the last washout at Ebei Village in the Yodda Valley. This was the end of the road. The loads were wrestled off the PMV and allocated to the porters.
We donned our sandals and daypacks and just after 10am, set off to walk the 5km to Kanga Village
This is when you knew the adventure was only just beginning....
A big rain the previous day had turned the walking track into a quagmire.
My feet quickly became two massive clogs of mud. Normally dry creekbeds were now flowing streams. My feet and legs sunk into ankle, sometimes calf-deep mud and it was extremely difficult to extricate my feet and the walking poles from the bog.
We criss-crossed streams using narrow grass verges and fallen logs to provide footholds. I was assisted across several fast flowing rivers by the porters, successfully avoiding any tumbles. It made for a slow procession.
We set ourselves up on the covered verandah of the main house in the village which provided shelter and an elevated viewing platform for observing village life.
Zac had a "long-house" meeting with leaders from each of the three villlages in the area, Kanga, Ebei and Komo to discuss "extra payments", porter numbers and other organisational issues. There were a few rumblings in camp and Zac's diplomacy skills were put to the test.
During the afternoon, backpacks, equipment, clothing and food were sorted and then Ian and I explored the village. Kanga is home to several hundred people. A large church building and store are located adjacent to a grassed centrally located common. Huts built on stilts are situated in three distinct areas. A new primary school and health centre (aid-post) were built three years ago with funding from Australian NGO's. We were given a guided tour by Jessie, one of the teachers in charge of approximately seventy students ranging in age from five to twelve years.
Not knowing when the next opportunity would present itself, I treated myself to a was-was in the local river before night fall. We bunked down on the verandah sleeping only in silk liners under mosquito nets due to the warm and humid conditions.
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