Kokoda 2. Kissing Hallowed Ground

It was a relief to find out that we were all rescheduled by Qantas only a day later as political unrest in Port Moresby had settled down. In the end, the flight over to Port Moresby went like clockwork. As soon as we walked through customs we met Cameron our guide. What struck me in the first instance that Cam was full of life and enthusiasm and was continuously cracking jokes. Some of the qualities you may need during long distant slogs like this.

Thursday 9 June 2016 - Port Moresby

The views from our POM hotel in the evening

The warm, humid air engulfed us as we stood outside the airport. Eventually we drive, maybe a couple of kilometres to the hotel and get a good taste of Port Moresby, where many buildings are surrounded by large fences crowned with barbed wire. I excitedly noticed that a lot about this place is unlike Australia. My mind humming “I don’t like cricket, oh no, I love it”. Please note: they don’t love cricket over here - rugby and soccer are the local games.

We drive into the hotel where more heavy fencing separates us from the outside, but this time with armed guards dressed in white police like uniform manning the gate. Instantly, we are among ourselves, only other customers and staff members buzzing around in a variety of hotel uniforms.

At the hotel the 23 hikers mingle and get to know each other for the first time as a group. There is a lot of story-swapping about the problems we faced even getting here by way of cancelled flights.

Our mob finally together

Cameron gave us a kick-arse, ex-army download that lasted two hours in and around the side of the pool. Seventeen years of hard core army hiking technique given to us in a nutshell. Very enjoyable to listen to confirming my own feelings about minimal living and the “less-is-more” theory. We were told that we have lost the first day of hiking due to our cancelled flights. Kokoda Spirit had to change the flight to Kokoda airfield a day later. In my mind  turning nine days hiking into eight is a daunting prospect, adding 10-15% to each day of hiking. No one was complaining - it just had to be done.

The corner of the hotel where we received our briefing

To make sure we were ready to hike, we carbo overloaded ourselves into smithereens. Facilitating such a necessary feat is a restaurant called Jacksons. It sits high above our hotel, but is still in the same guarded compound overlooking the airport and massive, looming ranges in the distance. During “Happy Hour” we ordered pizzas that came with an unexpected complimentary pizza to boot. Having had only a few beers (SPs) for lunch we did the meal real  justice, as it all disappears in the engines that we will need for hiking the next day. 

After several more SPs we walk back to our hotel rooms - I was sharing with Paul B and noticed the dog patrol van outside the fence – a stark reminder of the heavy security I once experienced in a Kibbutz in Israel!

Again, sleep did not appear to come easy due to excitement and a little fear of the unknown. This time it is in anticipation of flying out to Kokoda airfield. I feel obliged to tell you about a tragic plane crash that took the lives off 13 people as sensitively as I possibly can. In August of 2009, a plane took off from Port Moresby but crashed into the foot off the Owen Stanley Range. The nine Australians on board died as they set out on their experience of a lifetime on the Kokoda track and some of them following in the footsteps of family. Please, spare a thought for the families of those hikers that never made it to the start.

Friday 10 June 2016 - Port Moresby to Deniki

It is testament to the group that all the delays thrown at us were taken on the chin. Nothing seems to faze this group. Not a single tantrum chucked. As it appears common on this particular trip, the weather had of course closed in around the hills of Kokoda. We all spent some time waiting in the hotel and later at the airport hangar for it to clear. The first group launched itself into the air in a small plane and landed safely in Kokoda half an hour later. While waiting for the second group to arrive on the plane, the first group played with the local kids. Paul B had brought some tennis balls along with him to give away. Throughout the track this gesture was well received and a huge success.

The first group taking to the air in their tiny plane 

In the meantime back in Port Moresby, I had the privilege of being involved in an absolute cracker of a conversation with Cameron, our guide, who opened up about his amazing, sometimes gruesome experiences in Afghanistan. He gave me an insight into what soldiers endured during the Afghani conflict, rarely understood by an average civilian like myself. I have to make a footnote here stating that Cam did most of the talking contrary to popular believe.

Waiting for the plane to load

The safety briefing in full

The plane finally returned and had been loaded with our gear, hopefully re-fuelled and was ready for take off. The only seat left was directly behind the pilots and gave me a birds eye view of all possible good and evil that went on. We banked steeply into the air and circled once around the airport to gain altitude. We pushed our way through those delaying clouds and were excited to find ourselves overlooking the white cotton, woolly carpet with the odd peak protruding in the distance.

A snapshot through the window of our plane

I could clearly see the hills approach on the equipment that was arm's length away from me. When the plane descended through the clouds and droplets of water streamed away on the windows and wings next to our heads, the vast green valleys and sheer summits came into view. Emotions were overwhelming, as they often are on flights, looking down on the terrain that needed to be conquered and the hallowed ground. The pilot pointed down and said, "that's Isurava memorial". Even though I was in the wrong spot to see it, its importance wasn't lost on me.  

The plane's back wheels bumped safely on a green, and in places, muddy band of lush grass. A loud crack was heard from somewhere out of the cockpit when the front wheel kissed the ground like Prime Minister Paul Keating all those years ago but - hey! - no delay, no darn crack, nothing will stand in the way now. I am in Kokoda and standing on the track.

Looking back at the plane now in Kokoda amidst the green hills

Take My Hand I’ll lead the way

Today you’ll walk Kokoda along that gruelling jungle track.

Where so many young bronzed Aussie’s stood no chance of coming back.

You will visit the Bomana war graves which are at the start.

This will stir emotions within and leave sadness in your heart.

Then you’ll face the rugged Owen Stanley’s with Aussie pride in your vein.

Then pause and wonder how these diggers felt, there are not words to explain.

No track was cut through this dense jungle where you will walk today.

This alone will inspire as you carry thoughts along the way.

And the memory’s of a bloke who was like a Dad to you.

And the battles that he faced without a fancy walking shoe.

Nor any rolls of dunny paper or antiseptic cream.

He fought so hard for mate and country in conditions, brutal and extreme.

Without his brave effort, you would not be standing here today.

Take his hand he will guide you he knows every inch of the way.

There’s no doubt you will find this journey pretty bloody hard.

But remember this that Stevo will be there in spirit every single yard.

Now you will find an inner strength that you never thought you had.

Much brighter than all the starts for this bloke that you called Dad.

This journey will have an effect on you for the rest of your life.

And give you inner strength to fight adversity that may cause you strife.

When you reach the end, reflect back on what you’ve done.

And think of all those Aussie diggers lying back where you begun.



Grey Bits

I have not been able to track down the origins of this beautiful poem. Please let me know if you know the author so I can acknowledge him or her.

We had the privilege to hear many poems read to us by hikers on the Kokoda track during our epic hike. I have chosen some of those to share with you over the coming weeks.

Please note, that we are starting at the Kokoda end of the track and not the way the poem suggests from Owers Corner.




I could clearly see the ranges approach on the equipment
that was arm's length away from me

Our Prime Minister Paul Keating kissed a monument on the Kokoda track. If you would like to read about this, please go to http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/homage-to-the-men-who-helped-turn-the-tide/story-e6frg6n6-1226500264685

If you would like to find out more about the plane crash of 2009, please click on the following link

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2009-08-12/no-survivors-in-png-plane-crash/1388258