For those of you who know us quite well, you'll agree that Jody and I aren't really the outdoors type. Yes, we like a good BBQ in the garden, a stroll in the park but normally we're much more at home with indoor pursuits which is why four days in the Cameron Highlands, Malaysia's foremost jungle trekking and hiking destination may seem like a bit of a strange choice.
I was definately not expecting mountains, rolling hills and Swiss-style buildings which made you feel like you were in a scene from "The Sound of Music".
However, we still got stuck in. We're stayed in the strangest place (Father's Guest House) where the rooms are in old tin-roofed bunkers like air-raid shelters above ground. It was comfortable though and cosy under our thick fleece blankets at night. Yes, it was bloody freezing!
On our first full day, Jody and I attempted a walk in the rainforest on the trail known as 9a. The trails are quite well worn but some are still a bit high, slippery and precarious. You can imagine:- Me, little-miss-no-balance and Jody with his long legs, trying to squeeze through the tiniest gaps and not fall off the cliff. Having walked for over an hour longer than we were told the trail should be, we did get a bit worried at the end. Jody had to shout down at a man working in the fields below and signal for directions. We soldiered on, then realised that parts of the path on this final stretch had given way. I scrambled across, then burst into tears as Jody got stuck mid-way and my throwing him a branch (as seen in all good Indiana Jones movies), only blocked his way even further. My tears turned to tears of relief as he jumped to saftey, clutching vines and we both realised it was the end of the trail. Hurrah for that!
The following day, we tried a guided walk - the guide kept handing us plants to smell, touch or eat. We didn't mind until one flower made our tongues go numb (then we learnt that it's used as an anaesthetic).
Something we won't forget about the Cameron Highlands is the day we tried Durian. It's a huge spiky fruit like a big pinapple but it's banned in most hotels because it sinks. People often describe the experience of trying it as like eating custard in a sewer. It apparently tastes better if you can get over the smell but I couldn't. All I remember is the beige, avocado-like flesh, biting into it and trying not to gag. People in Asian countries go mad for it though.
We left the Cameron Highlands to spend xmas in the capital, Kuala Lumpur but we've been here for four days and we find it characterless and dull. Had a good Christmas though (thanks Jody for my Gucci timepiece) and even managed to get ourselves in the newspaper today! (See photo).
Monday 27 December 2004
A view from the jungle
Sunday 26 December 2004
We're still alive
Leaving disasters in our wake, we're currently in Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia, so we haven't been affected by the dreadful earthquake and tsunami that has just rocked Asia.
We also luckily missed the bus crash in the Cameron Highlands which happened the day before we left. A couple from our hostel were involved, but walked away.
Instead we're eating and sweating lots (once again, we're in hot territory). I bought Amy a Gucci watch for Christmas (a two quid fake of course. Only the best for my girl). She bought me a watch in return, since the one I bought in Bangkok broke after six weeks. We had Christmas dinner in a posh Thai restaurant on Christmas Day. There was no turkey in sight. Instead we had Pak Choi, Curry Kapitan (a dish famous in Penang - basically a chichen korma with a chilli chucked in) and black pepper beef. It was great, even if there were no crackers and daft hats.
Merry Christmas everyone. I would wish you all here with us, but Kuala Lumpur is pretty bloody dull and the accomodation here is filthy (Amy recieved FORTY bed bug bites in one night... Bite-o-meter: Kerching!) so you're probably better off at home. We're thinking about travelling to Australia ahead of schedule to catch New Year there if we can.
We also luckily missed the bus crash in the Cameron Highlands which happened the day before we left. A couple from our hostel were involved, but walked away.
Instead we're eating and sweating lots (once again, we're in hot territory). I bought Amy a Gucci watch for Christmas (a two quid fake of course. Only the best for my girl). She bought me a watch in return, since the one I bought in Bangkok broke after six weeks. We had Christmas dinner in a posh Thai restaurant on Christmas Day. There was no turkey in sight. Instead we had Pak Choi, Curry Kapitan (a dish famous in Penang - basically a chichen korma with a chilli chucked in) and black pepper beef. It was great, even if there were no crackers and daft hats.
Merry Christmas everyone. I would wish you all here with us, but Kuala Lumpur is pretty bloody dull and the accomodation here is filthy (Amy recieved FORTY bed bug bites in one night... Bite-o-meter: Kerching!) so you're probably better off at home. We're thinking about travelling to Australia ahead of schedule to catch New Year there if we can.
Thursday 23 December 2004
Living the high life
A 66-year old man peddled us and our luggage to our bus on Sunday morning. He didn't even break a sweat. We were leaving Penang's chaotic Chinatown to take a winding journey up to the peaceful Cameron Highlands. The day got off to a strange start when a marathon (see photo) delayed the arrival of our bus, but it wasn't until we reached the Highlands that the madness really kicked off.
When we arrived at our destination we headed for a bite to eat, settling for a seat in a restaurant opposite a smiling Indian man. We starting chatting - he lived out of town and said he owned his own retail business - and it wasn't long before he'd taken over our meal, ordering the staff to bring us extra chillis and sauces. We were unable to stop him paying our bill before he invited us to join him and his family for a tour of the Highlands.
Before we knew it we were sitting in a van with his wife and three kids heading to Brinchang - a village a few miles away from where we're staying in Tanah Rata. They took us to an Indian temple and a Chinese temple, stopping off at the occasional market and plant shop along the way. Mr S (as we'll call him) and his wife were jolly and talkative, but his three kids were sour-faced and appeared annoyed that Amy and I were getting star treatment. I don't know why, but I sensed tension in the family and felt that Mr S was only running the tour for the benefit of Amy and me.
By now Mr S had knocked back a few bottles of Guinness - when we met him in the restaurant he'd drunk at least two, with an additional two at stops along the way. I was concerned that his reaction time might be hindered when driving around the windy, blind corners up in the hills.
I bought some chocolates for our kind adopted family and they repayed us by showering Amy with gifts - sweetcorn from a street vendor, a Cameron Highlands T-shirt and a keychain made of plastic strawberries. The children looked on, unamused. The mother said that this was their first holiday in 16 years (and it was only one-day long) - the last was their honeymoon, also in the Highlands, and that time they took an Australian couple for a tour, staying out late and missing their 'honeymoon', so to speak.
After our three-hour trip, we agreed to go for dinner with the family. But first Amy and I headed back to our guesthouse to change into warm clothes. We've had our fair share of cold weather in the Highlands after almost two months of sweating through the rest of Asia. It's around 23C in the day and 14C at night.
Arriving back at Mr S' hotel, I was surprised to see his wife and kids were in bed and that only he was joining us for dinner. Slightly saddened by this, we left the family behind and went to the same Chinese restaurant where this all began. We ordered a steamboat - a traditional Highlands cuisine consisting of meat, fish and veg cooked in one of two stockpots left heating in the centre of the table on a gas burner. Our host hardly ate a thing - earlier in the day he said that he didn't even like steamboats and it seemed that he was only doing this for our pleasure. We said that we liked prawns and he bought an additional plate of them. When Amy said she liked eggs he asked for another basket full, but I stopped him.
He was silent during dinner and I tried hard to keep the conversation flowing in repayment for his kindness. When the bill came, he refused to let us pay, so I decided to show our thanks by buying him a couple of large beers to take home. This is where it started to get weird.
He said that he couldn't take alcohol home with him - a man in his 40s, afraid of drinking in his own home. It was if he lived his life by a rule that drinking was only allowed in the Highlands. He'd binged on it all day and said that when he was a bachelor he would drive to the highest point to get smashed on whisky while watching the view, but would never think of drinking at home.
By now the restaurant was closing so we moved outside. Drunk and tired, Mr S went on to reveal how he doesn't love his wife but can never leave her and he resents her for being old and in poor health. He said that he never looked after his children when they were babies because it wasn't his role.
He then lectured Amy on her duties as a woman. Apparently it's her job to cook the food I want to eat when I want to eat it. Although Amy's cooking is pretty good now, I don't think I could stomach it seven days a week. I explained how things are different in England and that both partners share responsibilities, but he couldn't get the idea that Amy was having an easy ride out of his head and spat out her duties once again.
"What do you do for him?" Mr S asked. "I sing and dance," Amy joked. Mr S then said that if I wanted to see girls sing and dance I could pay for that, while Amy stays at home preparing my dinner.
Noticing our distress he left the table, standing a few feet away to compose himself before returning to apologise. But the conversation was still much the same and I was keen to leave. Despite his kindness that day, I wasn't prepared to sit through another lecture on how to run a 1920's household with all the perks it brings (children that fear their father! A robot wife whose only interests are cooking, cleaning and washing! No divorce no matter what happens!).
So we walked Mr S to his hotel. I wished his business and family well. He's undoubtedly a kind man - he bought his children gifts while we were out and offered another couple in the restaurant a lift back to their hotel when they enquired about a taxi. He strongly believes that if he is kind to strangers then god will be kind to him. Though we're grateful for the money he spent on us, I hope that he'll put his family first in the future.
A lovely view from the Cameron HighlandsWhen we arrived at our destination we headed for a bite to eat, settling for a seat in a restaurant opposite a smiling Indian man. We starting chatting - he lived out of town and said he owned his own retail business - and it wasn't long before he'd taken over our meal, ordering the staff to bring us extra chillis and sauces. We were unable to stop him paying our bill before he invited us to join him and his family for a tour of the Highlands.
Before we knew it we were sitting in a van with his wife and three kids heading to Brinchang - a village a few miles away from where we're staying in Tanah Rata. They took us to an Indian temple and a Chinese temple, stopping off at the occasional market and plant shop along the way. Mr S (as we'll call him) and his wife were jolly and talkative, but his three kids were sour-faced and appeared annoyed that Amy and I were getting star treatment. I don't know why, but I sensed tension in the family and felt that Mr S was only running the tour for the benefit of Amy and me.
By now Mr S had knocked back a few bottles of Guinness - when we met him in the restaurant he'd drunk at least two, with an additional two at stops along the way. I was concerned that his reaction time might be hindered when driving around the windy, blind corners up in the hills.
I bought some chocolates for our kind adopted family and they repayed us by showering Amy with gifts - sweetcorn from a street vendor, a Cameron Highlands T-shirt and a keychain made of plastic strawberries. The children looked on, unamused. The mother said that this was their first holiday in 16 years (and it was only one-day long) - the last was their honeymoon, also in the Highlands, and that time they took an Australian couple for a tour, staying out late and missing their 'honeymoon', so to speak.
After our three-hour trip, we agreed to go for dinner with the family. But first Amy and I headed back to our guesthouse to change into warm clothes. We've had our fair share of cold weather in the Highlands after almost two months of sweating through the rest of Asia. It's around 23C in the day and 14C at night.
Arriving back at Mr S' hotel, I was surprised to see his wife and kids were in bed and that only he was joining us for dinner. Slightly saddened by this, we left the family behind and went to the same Chinese restaurant where this all began. We ordered a steamboat - a traditional Highlands cuisine consisting of meat, fish and veg cooked in one of two stockpots left heating in the centre of the table on a gas burner. Our host hardly ate a thing - earlier in the day he said that he didn't even like steamboats and it seemed that he was only doing this for our pleasure. We said that we liked prawns and he bought an additional plate of them. When Amy said she liked eggs he asked for another basket full, but I stopped him.
He was silent during dinner and I tried hard to keep the conversation flowing in repayment for his kindness. When the bill came, he refused to let us pay, so I decided to show our thanks by buying him a couple of large beers to take home. This is where it started to get weird.
He said that he couldn't take alcohol home with him - a man in his 40s, afraid of drinking in his own home. It was if he lived his life by a rule that drinking was only allowed in the Highlands. He'd binged on it all day and said that when he was a bachelor he would drive to the highest point to get smashed on whisky while watching the view, but would never think of drinking at home.
By now the restaurant was closing so we moved outside. Drunk and tired, Mr S went on to reveal how he doesn't love his wife but can never leave her and he resents her for being old and in poor health. He said that he never looked after his children when they were babies because it wasn't his role.
He then lectured Amy on her duties as a woman. Apparently it's her job to cook the food I want to eat when I want to eat it. Although Amy's cooking is pretty good now, I don't think I could stomach it seven days a week. I explained how things are different in England and that both partners share responsibilities, but he couldn't get the idea that Amy was having an easy ride out of his head and spat out her duties once again.
"What do you do for him?" Mr S asked. "I sing and dance," Amy joked. Mr S then said that if I wanted to see girls sing and dance I could pay for that, while Amy stays at home preparing my dinner.
Noticing our distress he left the table, standing a few feet away to compose himself before returning to apologise. But the conversation was still much the same and I was keen to leave. Despite his kindness that day, I wasn't prepared to sit through another lecture on how to run a 1920's household with all the perks it brings (children that fear their father! A robot wife whose only interests are cooking, cleaning and washing! No divorce no matter what happens!).
So we walked Mr S to his hotel. I wished his business and family well. He's undoubtedly a kind man - he bought his children gifts while we were out and offered another couple in the restaurant a lift back to their hotel when they enquired about a taxi. He strongly believes that if he is kind to strangers then god will be kind to him. Though we're grateful for the money he spent on us, I hope that he'll put his family first in the future.
Saturday 18 December 2004
Penang, Malaysia
See our Penang pictures.
We arrived in Georgetown on the island of Penang on Wednesday, falling foul to a final Thai con. When crossing the Thailand / Malaysia border, the passport control officer who stamped our passports demanded a fee of 20 baht each to let us through. We handed the money over, but were later told we'd been conned - by a man working for the Thai government for pity's sake!
Most people we've met who've been to Georgetown have hated it, but that's probably because they were expecting a beach resort that panders to tourists. What you actually get is a dirty great city squashed into the corner of an island, with few tourists in sight. We love it.
Penang's inhabitants are a nice mix of Malay, Chinese and Indian groups. We've been staying in Chinatown in a vast guesthouse called the Olive Spring run by a friendly Chinese family. Tan - the head of the family - occasionally sits me down to tell me something and though I always expect it to be some ancient oriental wisdom passed down for generations, it usually ends up being some hogwash about the man-eating fish he says he keeps at the back of the guesthouse, or something similar. One of Tan's relatives (who looks like a Chinese version of Jaws from a Bond movie) acts as night security and can be found sleeping in the corridors during the day. It's a nice place (yey!), but we have bed bugs (boo!).
The people in Georgetown are extremely friendly. The island doesn't rely heavily on tourism so there's no real need for the locals to be friendly to us foreigners like there is on the islands off Thailand, but they still go out of their way to make us happy. While waiting for a bus yesterday, a policeman, a lady from a shop and another man in the queue all asked if we needed directions. On a few occassions, we've been the only foreigners in packed Chinese cafes, but the staff still take time to explain what the hell the menu's all about.
While in Penang Museum today, I was chatting about the friendliness of the people here with the Indian security guard. "We are friendly because we all have a passion for Penang," he said. "Even to our most vile enemy, the Japanese, we are polite and smile." During the Japanese occupation of Penang during WW2 the security guard's grandfather was beheaded, I was told.
Yesterday we took a 30-minute train ride up Penang Hill with a girl we'd met called Kate. There's a small village at the top, 2,500 feet above sea level. (Here's a pic of Amy and me at the top). The houses up there are either derelict or owned by rich bastards (the British Empire were the first to build up there, so every house is huge and decadent). The three of us tried to find an apparently beautiful hotel that lays abandonded, but after an hour of walking up and down paths we were only rewarded by the presence of a big dog that chased us back the way we came.
We also tried a canopy walk (which is a bridge made of planks of wood, erected high in the trees and held up by rope). It only took 15 minutes to reach the end, but it was hell. Every step made the bridge wobble and because I'm a glutton for punishment I couldn't help but look down every couple of minutes, before wincing with fear. I took one picture of Amy while up there, but the rest of the time I was too terrified to let go.
Tomorrow we leave for the Cameron Highlands in central Malaysia, where we may meet even more jungle terrors (but hopefully no man-sized venus fly-traps - even Tarzan can't cope with those).
Jody at a nice blue mansionWe arrived in Georgetown on the island of Penang on Wednesday, falling foul to a final Thai con. When crossing the Thailand / Malaysia border, the passport control officer who stamped our passports demanded a fee of 20 baht each to let us through. We handed the money over, but were later told we'd been conned - by a man working for the Thai government for pity's sake!
Most people we've met who've been to Georgetown have hated it, but that's probably because they were expecting a beach resort that panders to tourists. What you actually get is a dirty great city squashed into the corner of an island, with few tourists in sight. We love it.
Penang's inhabitants are a nice mix of Malay, Chinese and Indian groups. We've been staying in Chinatown in a vast guesthouse called the Olive Spring run by a friendly Chinese family. Tan - the head of the family - occasionally sits me down to tell me something and though I always expect it to be some ancient oriental wisdom passed down for generations, it usually ends up being some hogwash about the man-eating fish he says he keeps at the back of the guesthouse, or something similar. One of Tan's relatives (who looks like a Chinese version of Jaws from a Bond movie) acts as night security and can be found sleeping in the corridors during the day. It's a nice place (yey!), but we have bed bugs (boo!).
The people in Georgetown are extremely friendly. The island doesn't rely heavily on tourism so there's no real need for the locals to be friendly to us foreigners like there is on the islands off Thailand, but they still go out of their way to make us happy. While waiting for a bus yesterday, a policeman, a lady from a shop and another man in the queue all asked if we needed directions. On a few occassions, we've been the only foreigners in packed Chinese cafes, but the staff still take time to explain what the hell the menu's all about.
While in Penang Museum today, I was chatting about the friendliness of the people here with the Indian security guard. "We are friendly because we all have a passion for Penang," he said. "Even to our most vile enemy, the Japanese, we are polite and smile." During the Japanese occupation of Penang during WW2 the security guard's grandfather was beheaded, I was told.
Yesterday we took a 30-minute train ride up Penang Hill with a girl we'd met called Kate. There's a small village at the top, 2,500 feet above sea level. (Here's a pic of Amy and me at the top). The houses up there are either derelict or owned by rich bastards (the British Empire were the first to build up there, so every house is huge and decadent). The three of us tried to find an apparently beautiful hotel that lays abandonded, but after an hour of walking up and down paths we were only rewarded by the presence of a big dog that chased us back the way we came.
We also tried a canopy walk (which is a bridge made of planks of wood, erected high in the trees and held up by rope). It only took 15 minutes to reach the end, but it was hell. Every step made the bridge wobble and because I'm a glutton for punishment I couldn't help but look down every couple of minutes, before wincing with fear. I took one picture of Amy while up there, but the rest of the time I was too terrified to let go.
Tomorrow we leave for the Cameron Highlands in central Malaysia, where we may meet even more jungle terrors (but hopefully no man-sized venus fly-traps - even Tarzan can't cope with those).
Disasterous Dining in Penang
One of the most surprising things I've noticed so far about Malaysia is the distinct lack of tourists compared with Thailand. Walking the streets, you notice people going about their every-day business, ignoring you and it feels good to see that not everyone's lives in these countries we visit, revolve around tourism. In fact, in 90% of the restaurants/cafes we've dined in so far, we've been the only non-Malays in the place. Not that it's been plain sailing...
Unfortunately the flip-side is that when you're in a place unused to foreign visitors, it can bring a host of other difficulties - all of which we've found in the past three days. You may have trouble reading the menu (if there is one) because it's in Bahasa Melayu, Cantonese, Hakka or Hokkien, you don't know how to order and the staff all seem to just ignore you or simply that when your dish comes it's... Revolting/not what you ordered/different from what you expect.
On our first night when we'd literally just touched down on Malaysian soil, we (plus Mark, Richard and Kate whom we'd met travelling from Thailand) headed into little India for a curry. There wasn't much open but we settled for a brightly-lit place with a number of meat curries of varying degrees of spiciness on the menu. Maybe alarm bells should have started ringing when all the chicken curries looked the same, although everyone ordered something different. Maybe it was just a case of crushed expectations. We'd all heard about great Malaysian curries but none of us enjoyed the meal. The chicken curries were all cold (Hmmm.. could they have been the same thing?) and all of them (even my mutton korma) was too spicy for the person eating it. Something neither naan, rice or pepsi could cure...
Jody's since tried stir-fried frogs legs (not at the same place) and he can confirm that they do taste like chicken. Last night we had an excellent indian meal that was all served up, not on plates, but on giant banana leaves. Well, I guess it saves on washing up.
But for revolting foods in Malaysia, tonight's desert took the biscuit... We ate in an outdoor food court run by malay muslims. I had a Pad Thai-type noodle dish and Jody got a strange mix of battered prawns and batter with nothing in it topped with spicy tomato sauce. Throughout our main meal, we saw staff bringing out loads of these fantastic-looking, huge colourful deserts and decided to try one. It goes by the name of 'Ais Kacang', a huge ball of shaved ice coloured with brown and luminous pink syrup, with icecream on the top. Underneath the enormous, edible snowball was a mix of jelly, sweetcorn and beans. I had about two mouthfuls and felt sick. The pink side of the ice tasted like fish sauce. Jody was determined to eat his way through to discover what was at the bottom, an action which he now sorely regrets.
Two waters to flush away the tasteUnfortunately the flip-side is that when you're in a place unused to foreign visitors, it can bring a host of other difficulties - all of which we've found in the past three days. You may have trouble reading the menu (if there is one) because it's in Bahasa Melayu, Cantonese, Hakka or Hokkien, you don't know how to order and the staff all seem to just ignore you or simply that when your dish comes it's... Revolting/not what you ordered/different from what you expect.
On our first night when we'd literally just touched down on Malaysian soil, we (plus Mark, Richard and Kate whom we'd met travelling from Thailand) headed into little India for a curry. There wasn't much open but we settled for a brightly-lit place with a number of meat curries of varying degrees of spiciness on the menu. Maybe alarm bells should have started ringing when all the chicken curries looked the same, although everyone ordered something different. Maybe it was just a case of crushed expectations. We'd all heard about great Malaysian curries but none of us enjoyed the meal. The chicken curries were all cold (Hmmm.. could they have been the same thing?) and all of them (even my mutton korma) was too spicy for the person eating it. Something neither naan, rice or pepsi could cure...
Jody's since tried stir-fried frogs legs (not at the same place) and he can confirm that they do taste like chicken. Last night we had an excellent indian meal that was all served up, not on plates, but on giant banana leaves. Well, I guess it saves on washing up.
But for revolting foods in Malaysia, tonight's desert took the biscuit... We ate in an outdoor food court run by malay muslims. I had a Pad Thai-type noodle dish and Jody got a strange mix of battered prawns and batter with nothing in it topped with spicy tomato sauce. Throughout our main meal, we saw staff bringing out loads of these fantastic-looking, huge colourful deserts and decided to try one. It goes by the name of 'Ais Kacang', a huge ball of shaved ice coloured with brown and luminous pink syrup, with icecream on the top. Underneath the enormous, edible snowball was a mix of jelly, sweetcorn and beans. I had about two mouthfuls and felt sick. The pink side of the ice tasted like fish sauce. Jody was determined to eat his way through to discover what was at the bottom, an action which he now sorely regrets.
Monday 13 December 2004
A week on Ko Lanta
"Stop swatting or you'll scare the frog," I said last night as Amy went about her routine of squashing mosquitoes. We were trying not to upset our latest lodger - a small fat frog who'd taken a liking to our bathroom. He'd left by the morning.
We've been quite lucky with our creature room mates thus far. There are always ants, mossies and friendly geckos, but thankfully my arch enemy Monsieur Cockroach has only made one appearance (I dashed the brute's chances of a night indoors after I deftly swept him out with a broom).
Amy's foe is as always mosquitoes. She can't spend five minutes in the room without stalking the place, flip-flop in hand, swatting the buggers.
The weather's been pretty ropey in Ko Lanta. One of the reasons why we've stayed here so long is because we've been holding out 'just one more day' for some sunshine. Our daily routine is breakfast, stroll to a nice spot on the beach, sprint back to shelter when it starts raining. The sun came out today which we've taken as a good sign, so we're staying just one more day before leaving for Malaysia.
At least it's been cool. I've enjoyed chosing restaurants on the quality of the food, instead of the size of the fan. The food is excellent on Ko Lanta - it puts the crap that was served up on Phi Phi to shame. The locals are extremely friendly too (quite suspiciously at first. We simply weren't used to it).
My stomach has reprogrammed itself since being here. I start the day with some hellishly spicy thing then continue through til dinner. Last week I tried a bland old pizza for a change and the stodginess of it kept me bloated well into the next day.
Today we explored Khlong Dao beach. It's a few miles north of where we've been staying and doesn't have the dead coral of 'our' beach. The only sea-shells in sight belonged to hermit crabs - hundreds of them, all scurrying into the sea en masse, only to get swept back again by the waves. They're angry little fellas and weren't too happy when we picked them up. But the clams are more rude - spitting water at Amy, then sticking their tongues out when she touched them.
On Wednesday we squeeze inside a small van to travel to Malaysia. I'll miss Thailand. It's been bloody great here.
Hermit crabWe've been quite lucky with our creature room mates thus far. There are always ants, mossies and friendly geckos, but thankfully my arch enemy Monsieur Cockroach has only made one appearance (I dashed the brute's chances of a night indoors after I deftly swept him out with a broom).
Amy's foe is as always mosquitoes. She can't spend five minutes in the room without stalking the place, flip-flop in hand, swatting the buggers.
The weather's been pretty ropey in Ko Lanta. One of the reasons why we've stayed here so long is because we've been holding out 'just one more day' for some sunshine. Our daily routine is breakfast, stroll to a nice spot on the beach, sprint back to shelter when it starts raining. The sun came out today which we've taken as a good sign, so we're staying just one more day before leaving for Malaysia.
At least it's been cool. I've enjoyed chosing restaurants on the quality of the food, instead of the size of the fan. The food is excellent on Ko Lanta - it puts the crap that was served up on Phi Phi to shame. The locals are extremely friendly too (quite suspiciously at first. We simply weren't used to it).
My stomach has reprogrammed itself since being here. I start the day with some hellishly spicy thing then continue through til dinner. Last week I tried a bland old pizza for a change and the stodginess of it kept me bloated well into the next day.
Today we explored Khlong Dao beach. It's a few miles north of where we've been staying and doesn't have the dead coral of 'our' beach. The only sea-shells in sight belonged to hermit crabs - hundreds of them, all scurrying into the sea en masse, only to get swept back again by the waves. They're angry little fellas and weren't too happy when we picked them up. But the clams are more rude - spitting water at Amy, then sticking their tongues out when she touched them.
On Wednesday we squeeze inside a small van to travel to Malaysia. I'll miss Thailand. It's been bloody great here.
Wednesday 8 December 2004
Sitting pretty...
We are still on the beaches of Thailand - until some point next week. Then we head on down to Malaysia and into the unknown...
At the moment, we're really enjoying the lazy days (and nights) in Ko Lanta at Klong Khong beach. It's not as picture-perfect as it was on Ko Phi Phi - but it sure is a lot quieter. We moved accommodation yesterday after finding we were sharing our beach bungalow with a huge black rat. He didn't want to share, and neither quite frankly did we. It was horrendous. We spotted the vermin just before bed and after that it was a sleepless night under the mossie net, jumping at every sound and waving the torch around the room. I arrived at the Lanta Merry Hut (our new place) looking like the undead, but after an hour's kip in a hammock overlooking the beach and some hearty Thai fare, I felt right at home. And so it has continued.
You'll see from the above picture that you can't actually swim directly where we are on the beach. It's extremely shallow and so much so, at low tide - all the coral (dead and alive) appear over the waterline. The dead coral looks just like plain ole rock until you get up close. We've been told there is a swimming spot nearby but are too lazy to walk there.
Currently, we're too contented reading, playing cards, eating and watching the occasional movie shown in a beach bar. We've met a few people but it is pretty deserted here and I'm finding it brilliant having our 'own' beach (almost!). Jodes and I are having a good laugh and tonight, he found a mossie bite and I didn't get one! Note - the reason I'm in such a good mood. :)
Ko Lanta - Amy on the dead coralAt the moment, we're really enjoying the lazy days (and nights) in Ko Lanta at Klong Khong beach. It's not as picture-perfect as it was on Ko Phi Phi - but it sure is a lot quieter. We moved accommodation yesterday after finding we were sharing our beach bungalow with a huge black rat. He didn't want to share, and neither quite frankly did we. It was horrendous. We spotted the vermin just before bed and after that it was a sleepless night under the mossie net, jumping at every sound and waving the torch around the room. I arrived at the Lanta Merry Hut (our new place) looking like the undead, but after an hour's kip in a hammock overlooking the beach and some hearty Thai fare, I felt right at home. And so it has continued.
You'll see from the above picture that you can't actually swim directly where we are on the beach. It's extremely shallow and so much so, at low tide - all the coral (dead and alive) appear over the waterline. The dead coral looks just like plain ole rock until you get up close. We've been told there is a swimming spot nearby but are too lazy to walk there.
Currently, we're too contented reading, playing cards, eating and watching the occasional movie shown in a beach bar. We've met a few people but it is pretty deserted here and I'm finding it brilliant having our 'own' beach (almost!). Jodes and I are having a good laugh and tonight, he found a mossie bite and I didn't get one! Note - the reason I'm in such a good mood. :)
The Phi Phi cats of doom
In September 2005 when our travels come to an end, I'm sure that one image will be stuck in my mind from this trip. It won't be seeing Angkor Wat at sunrise, or Machu Picchu at dawn. It won't be Ayres Rock or the salt flats of Bolivia. No. It'll probably be the harrowing sight of two strange cats I saw last Saturday on Phi Phi.
We were at a place called the Hippies bar, approaching a large circle of people watching a fire show on the beach. As we prepared to join the crowd we noticed a few people who couldn't bring themselves to watch the show due to the horror that lurked on the sand: two terrifying cats, surely plucked from the depths of hell.
The cats stood totally rigid on the sand, making a tortured growling sound, both staring at the same spot. They're muscles were so stiff they looked like they'd been stuffed, but oh no, they were alive and appeared to be looking at something no human eye could see. I've heard that cats can see the supernatural. Were their eyes fixed on the ghost of Blackbeard?
Passing people gave the cats a wide berth, staring back at the felines in disblief. I tried to watch the fireshow, but couldn't bring myself to have fun while this horrible din roared from the moggies' throats.
After about 30 minutes of fear, some Thai men decided to kick the cats, pushing the rigid beasts so close to each other that their heads were touching. But still no movement. Then suddenly they scrapped.
All along they were just sizing each other up and marking their territory. It's just they had a very funny way of doing it. After a scuffle that couldn't have lasted more than three seconds, the black cat walked away. The ginger one stared rigidly at the departing moggy until it was out of sight and then called it a night.
I had to get that off my chest. Now look at some nice photos of Phi Phi. I'll upload some more when I get the chance.
Where am I? I'm currently sitting at a PC that's so badly wired I get an electric shock every time I touch my camera (which is currently hooked into the PC). I told the little man about it, but his only advice was to keep my feet off the floor.
MeoooooowWe were at a place called the Hippies bar, approaching a large circle of people watching a fire show on the beach. As we prepared to join the crowd we noticed a few people who couldn't bring themselves to watch the show due to the horror that lurked on the sand: two terrifying cats, surely plucked from the depths of hell.
The cats stood totally rigid on the sand, making a tortured growling sound, both staring at the same spot. They're muscles were so stiff they looked like they'd been stuffed, but oh no, they were alive and appeared to be looking at something no human eye could see. I've heard that cats can see the supernatural. Were their eyes fixed on the ghost of Blackbeard?
Passing people gave the cats a wide berth, staring back at the felines in disblief. I tried to watch the fireshow, but couldn't bring myself to have fun while this horrible din roared from the moggies' throats.
After about 30 minutes of fear, some Thai men decided to kick the cats, pushing the rigid beasts so close to each other that their heads were touching. But still no movement. Then suddenly they scrapped.
All along they were just sizing each other up and marking their territory. It's just they had a very funny way of doing it. After a scuffle that couldn't have lasted more than three seconds, the black cat walked away. The ginger one stared rigidly at the departing moggy until it was out of sight and then called it a night.
I had to get that off my chest. Now look at some nice photos of Phi Phi. I'll upload some more when I get the chance.
Where am I? I'm currently sitting at a PC that's so badly wired I get an electric shock every time I touch my camera (which is currently hooked into the PC). I told the little man about it, but his only advice was to keep my feet off the floor.
Thursday 2 December 2004
White sandy shores
Really enjoying the beach... Today we braved the sea again on a longtail boat. It was supposed to be an organised trip but unlike the one we did at Ao Nang (more of that in a second), this time we had just one driver who spoke part English, part Thai and part sign; and an over-crowded boat. The people were pretty cool but the boat didn't take the route we'd been promised so we spent half the day trying to decipher where we actually were.
Anyway, it was all beautiful and we think we saw Maya Bay, the beach where they shot the film of the same name ('The Beach'). In fact, we staged a mutiny on the boat when the driver suggested that he wasn't actually going to let us get off the boat and forced him to go to shore (on the condition that we wouldn't get him in trouble and would pay the extra 20 baht fee to the rangers because Maya Bay is protected as a National Park). Cue: A good photo op and many happy punters pleased to feel dry land once again.
Another highlight was the snorkelling at Monkey Bay where I managed to keep the sea water out of my mouth, and concentrate of snapping pics of a few fish. Jody was on board giving me 'pirahna scares' by chucking bits of biscuits near me in the water so that right by my shoulder, there was a full-on feeding frenzy as a million and one fish scrambled for one bit of rusk! We also visited a place called Shark Point, but didn't see any sharks.
Ao Nang (Ao pronounced 'Ow' as in 'Ow, I've hurt myself'), our first beach destination which we left on Monday November 29, was a good intro to sandy shores but not the white sand/clear waters we're now spoilt with on Ko Phi Phi. Ao Nang is more of a package holiday destination. Our guesthouse there, Nong Eed House, was reasonably dire but when your budget is under 5 pounds a night, nowhere is great shakes. At least it was pretty secure and our washing came back nice and clean. But the staff were horrible, and it was right next to a bar which blared out Tom Jones, Guns'n'Roses and Bob Marley until 2am. Jody and I were literally shouting at each other across the room. Not good for an early night.
The four islands trip by longtail boat from Ao Nang was just amazing. The staff were professional and clearly explained each stop to us. We got to see the tiny islands with white sand beaches and sand banks. All the islands in this region are made up of beach, jungle and these huge limestone cliffs that fall into the sea (where there's no beach). Really never seen anything like it.
Think we've decided now to stick it here (not that it's all hard work) until Monday. All this swimming and sunbathing really takes it out of you so we need to conserve some energy for next week. Finally, I've decided not to take a diving course this time. Just not enough time to devote four days to, and not enough enthusiasm/passion on my part. Just getting the snorkel on is complicated enough for me. Is this a big mistake? PADI people, please comment...
Tuesday 30 November 2004
Ko Phi Phi
I'm bowled over by the beauty of Ko Phi Phi. It's like a desert island paradise, but with fifty hotels, noisy bars and ten thousand sunburnt tourists crawling around the place.
Actually it's not that bad. From the snobby Lonely Planet guidebook, I expected it to be totally ruined like the beaches of Cyprus, but there's not even a McDonalds here (but just wait a few years - there's a lot of construction working going on).
Phi Phi is much smaller than I thought it would be and for those who haven't seen a map of the island, it's an odd shape - as if it's been pinched in the middle where the main tourist area is, with higher land to either side. Walking between the two beaches on the North and South of the island only takes five minutes, which is quite novel. Amy and I have settled on the chilled-out North beach, eating Pad Thai in the restaurant there and drinking fruit shakes (fruit liquidised with tap water ice - we haven't caught dysentery yet, but give us time).
As you travel closer to the sea in Thailand, two things happen: costs rocket and the manners of Thai people plummet. We tried to buy food from a street vendor last night, but he was so uninterested in the trade that he turned his back on us until we left. Even in big 'ol Bangkok, the locals treat you with the upmost courtesy (true, they rip you off as soon as look at you, but at least they do it with a smile). Thankfully, rude locals are still very much in the minority and most of the people we've met have been helpful.
What have we been up to? Not much really. We've been spread out on the beach, reading books and occasionally strolling out for a paddle. We may move to another part of the island in a few days, but we've only been here a day and are both quite happy. Our current room on Phi Phi opens out onto an alley that's home to a legion of stray cats. We end up wading shin-deep in writhing fur whenever we open the door.
Tomorrow, we're sailing off for another island tour and cave visit and are currently trying to decide where we'll be for the King's birthday on Sunday December 5. The King is much loved here. In fact, I think that anything short of total adoration for the King is classed as treason, punishable by death. Pictures of him and his lovely Queen hang in streets, houses and taxis. Long may he reign!
I'm currently in an internet cafe next to a bar that plays The Beach on loop all day (it was filmed here). Just thought I'd add that for atmosphere. I shall now return to our room to see if Amy has finished doing her hair so that we can go and explore the East of the island before sun sets.
Jody on Tup Island, squintingActually it's not that bad. From the snobby Lonely Planet guidebook, I expected it to be totally ruined like the beaches of Cyprus, but there's not even a McDonalds here (but just wait a few years - there's a lot of construction working going on).
Phi Phi is much smaller than I thought it would be and for those who haven't seen a map of the island, it's an odd shape - as if it's been pinched in the middle where the main tourist area is, with higher land to either side. Walking between the two beaches on the North and South of the island only takes five minutes, which is quite novel. Amy and I have settled on the chilled-out North beach, eating Pad Thai in the restaurant there and drinking fruit shakes (fruit liquidised with tap water ice - we haven't caught dysentery yet, but give us time).
As you travel closer to the sea in Thailand, two things happen: costs rocket and the manners of Thai people plummet. We tried to buy food from a street vendor last night, but he was so uninterested in the trade that he turned his back on us until we left. Even in big 'ol Bangkok, the locals treat you with the upmost courtesy (true, they rip you off as soon as look at you, but at least they do it with a smile). Thankfully, rude locals are still very much in the minority and most of the people we've met have been helpful.
What have we been up to? Not much really. We've been spread out on the beach, reading books and occasionally strolling out for a paddle. We may move to another part of the island in a few days, but we've only been here a day and are both quite happy. Our current room on Phi Phi opens out onto an alley that's home to a legion of stray cats. We end up wading shin-deep in writhing fur whenever we open the door.
Tomorrow, we're sailing off for another island tour and cave visit and are currently trying to decide where we'll be for the King's birthday on Sunday December 5. The King is much loved here. In fact, I think that anything short of total adoration for the King is classed as treason, punishable by death. Pictures of him and his lovely Queen hang in streets, houses and taxis. Long may he reign!
I'm currently in an internet cafe next to a bar that plays The Beach on loop all day (it was filmed here). Just thought I'd add that for atmosphere. I shall now return to our room to see if Amy has finished doing her hair so that we can go and explore the East of the island before sun sets.
Sunday 28 November 2004
Monkeys ahoy!
On Thursday we arrived in Ao Nang - a small beach resort North of Krabi on Thailand's West coast. Since then we've relaxed, eaten lots of seafood and today went on a tour of four islands.
While Amy got down to some serious snorkeling on Poda Island (in water, she says, as bright green as jade), I hassled a group of monkeys. We were warned not to approach them due to their track record of attacking and robbing humans, but they seemed pleasant enough. Soon lots of people came over to photograph the apes, who were happy to fool around for the camera. Then I saw one of them slink away from the others and make a beeline for our bags, but I was quick to chase it away before it got near. Unimpressed that their plan had failed, the alpha male monkey (he was twice the size of all the others with a mean set of Dracula fangs) stomped down to the other tourists and made it known that there would be no more pictures today.
I've uploaded some photos from today, but need to rush off now to have dinner with some friends we've made since being here. We plan to leave Ao Nang for Ko Phi Phi tomorrow - I'm sure Amy will fill you in when she has time.
A Poda Island monkeyWhile Amy got down to some serious snorkeling on Poda Island (in water, she says, as bright green as jade), I hassled a group of monkeys. We were warned not to approach them due to their track record of attacking and robbing humans, but they seemed pleasant enough. Soon lots of people came over to photograph the apes, who were happy to fool around for the camera. Then I saw one of them slink away from the others and make a beeline for our bags, but I was quick to chase it away before it got near. Unimpressed that their plan had failed, the alpha male monkey (he was twice the size of all the others with a mean set of Dracula fangs) stomped down to the other tourists and made it known that there would be no more pictures today.
I've uploaded some photos from today, but need to rush off now to have dinner with some friends we've made since being here. We plan to leave Ao Nang for Ko Phi Phi tomorrow - I'm sure Amy will fill you in when she has time.
Monday 22 November 2004
Chiang Mai, Thailand
See our Chiang Mai pictures.
I'm bloated. We've just completed a Thai cookery course at a place called Thai Chocolate (there was none of the sweet stuff in sight - 'Thai Chocolate' is a slang term for red chillies in Thailand). We cooked and ate six meals in seven hours, finding space for two plates of fruit in between. It was a lot of fun and the other eight people on the course felt just as sick as we did by the end.
Amy's currently getting her hair chemically straightened, which leaves me with some time to kill. Best of luck to her - she went for a trim a couple of days back and the Thai lady hacked about four inches off.
We went elephant trekking yesterday, which was a giggle - though we were slightly worried when our driver hopped off and disappeared, leaving the elephant to lumber on unguided (he returned a few minutes later). Our elephant was a stubborn beast and refused to move at times. We later learnt that the small elephant that had been following us was our elephant's calf and the reason she refused to move was because she couldn't see her baby.
After a bumpy hour on elephant back, we made it to one of the famous Chiang Mai hilltribes. Hilltribe trekking is one of the main reason travellers come to the city, but we can't be arsed with it. The romantic view is that the hilltribes are small societies of natives, untouched by modern civilization. But, judging from other traveller's stories and the hilltribe we visited, the reality is that what you actually visit is a series of salesmen and women in silly hats intent on flogging you tat. Though some of the goods are made locally, much of it seems to be imported from the mainland and Burma.
I spoke to a couple who had just returned from a hilltribe trek and they weren't impressed. They visited the Karen tribe (famous for their longneck women: see this picture I've found) and although the longneck ladies greet tourists, everyone else in the tribe slouched around in tracksuits.
We also took an hour-long ride on a bamboo raft with three other people and a couple of guys who were employed to steer. We enjoyed taking in the beautiful scenery and the ride was very slow and peaceful other than the instance when we ran into a fallen tree and almost capsized.
We leave Chiang Mai and head for Krabi in Southern Thailand on Thursday. After all this rushing about we're planning to spend our final three weeks in Thailand exploring some islands and lazing on beaches.
I'm bloated. We've just completed a Thai cookery course at a place called Thai Chocolate (there was none of the sweet stuff in sight - 'Thai Chocolate' is a slang term for red chillies in Thailand). We cooked and ate six meals in seven hours, finding space for two plates of fruit in between. It was a lot of fun and the other eight people on the course felt just as sick as we did by the end.
Amy's currently getting her hair chemically straightened, which leaves me with some time to kill. Best of luck to her - she went for a trim a couple of days back and the Thai lady hacked about four inches off.
We went elephant trekking yesterday, which was a giggle - though we were slightly worried when our driver hopped off and disappeared, leaving the elephant to lumber on unguided (he returned a few minutes later). Our elephant was a stubborn beast and refused to move at times. We later learnt that the small elephant that had been following us was our elephant's calf and the reason she refused to move was because she couldn't see her baby.
After a bumpy hour on elephant back, we made it to one of the famous Chiang Mai hilltribes. Hilltribe trekking is one of the main reason travellers come to the city, but we can't be arsed with it. The romantic view is that the hilltribes are small societies of natives, untouched by modern civilization. But, judging from other traveller's stories and the hilltribe we visited, the reality is that what you actually visit is a series of salesmen and women in silly hats intent on flogging you tat. Though some of the goods are made locally, much of it seems to be imported from the mainland and Burma.
I spoke to a couple who had just returned from a hilltribe trek and they weren't impressed. They visited the Karen tribe (famous for their longneck women: see this picture I've found) and although the longneck ladies greet tourists, everyone else in the tribe slouched around in tracksuits.
We also took an hour-long ride on a bamboo raft with three other people and a couple of guys who were employed to steer. We enjoyed taking in the beautiful scenery and the ride was very slow and peaceful other than the instance when we ran into a fallen tree and almost capsized.
We leave Chiang Mai and head for Krabi in Southern Thailand on Thursday. After all this rushing about we're planning to spend our final three weeks in Thailand exploring some islands and lazing on beaches.
Saturday 20 November 2004
Angkor Wat, Cambodia
It was amazing... Got up super early to see Angkor Wat (which is both the name of the city of temple ruins and the most famous single temple there) at sunrise and spent another two days exploring the rest of the temples. We saw the major ones (about 20 of 100), got bitten alive again (deet does not do it for me) but really liked it.
Here's what else we noticed:
Pesky kids trying to sell you stuff (even tiny ones) and who look like they're about to cry when you insist you don't need 20 braclets for $1...
They're waiting for you outside all the temples screaming: "Col' drink sir! You want col' drink. Food madam, you want some thing eat?". And the boys with the guide books try and corner you saying: "Where you from?" And when you say England... They spiel off "Capital city, London. Borders with Wales and Scotland". I started testing them on our last day and asked the capital of Canada. When they gave me the answer, they told me about Canada having two languages and then started gabbling to me in French! It's funny now to think about it now but at the time it was a bit much.
We probably would have bought something (Jody liked this Angkor Wat paper weight which lit up with disco lights at the touch of a button) if we'd been able to browse the stalls but as it was, once you approached them, the kids wouldn't leave you alone.
Out of Angkor Wat. Cambodia is a lovely looking country - green and lush when you get out of the town. Driving past paddy fields and villagers just getting on with their daily chores was for me the best part after the temples. Part of the country is flooded for three months of the year. We saw this when we flew in but couldn't work out what we were seeing. From so high up, Jody thought it looked like broccoli in a pan (obviously, the trees in the flooded area). It doesn't really rain much either. We experienced a shower that literally lasted for about 50 seconds when we were at a temple one afternoon. The locals got really excited but it was over before it had really begun. Not like in London then...
Jody writes:
The ruins. This is what we came for. On our first night we took a tuk-tuk (more basic than those in Thailand - these ones are simply motorbikes pulling a cart) to Phnom Bakheng to watch the sunset. I didn't know that we were driving via Angkor Wat itself, but as we passed the sight of the massive complex looming out from the jungle it was worth the trip alone.
After spending three days (two of which we started at 5am to catch the sunrises) exploring temples, we learnt to enjoy the remote ruins more. Angkor Wat is in such good condition (following constant restoration - it is Cambodia's flagship tourist attraction after all) and is always so crowded that it ends up looking quite bland close up.
We prefered the more ruinous jungle temples, such as Preah Khan. We reached the complex at 6am and were the only two people there for quite some time. It felt like we were the first people to ever discover it. Some structures had collapsed and elegantly tumbled through standing doorways. Trees straddled ruins, both destroying and holding together the ancient structures. Headless statues rose up from the rubble and plants and flowers grew everywhere. We spent hours there and took a lot of photos (which we will show in a 10-hour slide projection, with commentary, upon our return).
The people. While the children at the temples chase you with trinkets and clothing to sell, the adults try and get you to eat at their stalls. Once we made our choice and finally sat at a stall, the owners changed completely. They're warm, friendly and relaxed and sometimes shooed the children away so that we could eat in peace. Most Cambodians have excellent English too. The English and historical knowledge of one of our drivers was so good, there was no point in shelling out $20 for a guide (we prefered to explore for ourselves, anyway).
Landmine victims beg wherever tourists can be found. They frequently followed us, waving torn limbs and shouting "disabled." One day, we were eating at a temple and saw a local girl who had serious facial burns sharing a joke with the cafe staff. The minute we stood to leave she changed completely, chasing us, pointing at her face and screaming and moaning like the undead. Our driver found it hilarious - he'd probably seen the act before. Neither Amy or I knew what to do in these situations, so we just ignored them. Is it right to encourage begging by giving money? We didn't think so.
On the whole, we loved Cambodia and wished we could have spent more time exploring other parts of the country, rather than just the well touristed area. We're currently killing time in Chiang Mai, having plotted some things to do in the next few days, including an elephant trek.
Thursday 18 November 2004
Italian tourists
Everyone seems to have it in for Japanese tourists. Ok, so they do generally travel in large groups and lurch into every landmark photo en masse, standing hands on hips and exclaiming "waaah" (translation: "wow"). But that old cliche about them carrying loads of camera equipment isn't relevant anymore - almost everyone we've seen is carrying a ton of it.
A big group of Italian tourists were pissing everyone off on our flight last night though. They pushed to the front of the check-in queue, then - dragging their Louis Vuitton luggage - piled in front of the departure doors to make sure they were the first on the plane. Then the botoxed old hag who sat in front of me refused to put her seat forward for the duration of the flight, depite me having hardly any room to juggle the numerous drinks Bangkok Airways plied me with.
I would have caused a fuss, but knowing my luck they were probably Mafia. Incidentally, I saw a Japanese man with a finger missing, which either means he's a member of the deadly Yakuza clan, or once had a run-in with a big dog.
Where are we? At the airport again, waiting for our flight to Chiang Mai. We've just returned from Cambodia, but will try and tell you about that some other time.
A big group of Italian tourists were pissing everyone off on our flight last night though. They pushed to the front of the check-in queue, then - dragging their Louis Vuitton luggage - piled in front of the departure doors to make sure they were the first on the plane. Then the botoxed old hag who sat in front of me refused to put her seat forward for the duration of the flight, depite me having hardly any room to juggle the numerous drinks Bangkok Airways plied me with.
I would have caused a fuss, but knowing my luck they were probably Mafia. Incidentally, I saw a Japanese man with a finger missing, which either means he's a member of the deadly Yakuza clan, or once had a run-in with a big dog.
Where are we? At the airport again, waiting for our flight to Chiang Mai. We've just returned from Cambodia, but will try and tell you about that some other time.
Saturday 13 November 2004
Highlights of Bangkok
Starting to realise we haven't been explaining what we have been doing much - just the quirks of Bangkok (BKK). We've seen all the sights now though and are just returning in transit between Cambodia and the beaches. Some of my personal highlights: First lizard spotted: - scarpering out of toilet as I went in, in our first hostel (Number One Guesthouse, Sukhumvit). Hostel was okay. Our room had good aircon and a shower cubicle in the room. But we were dubious about the cleanliness of the bed and ended up sleeping on top of it.
Tour of the Wats (buddist temples): - We did them all - Marble temple, lucky budda, Golden Mount - on a man made mountian. A 250-step climb up and great views over Bangkok. Plus a smaller Wat - but one that has (in the grounds) a huge 39 metre tall golden budda - Luang Pho To, which was errected in 1867 AD.
That day, we became an attraction of Bangkok ourselves! Our tuk-tuk driver deserted us at our last stop, Golden Mount (a ploy by the drivers to get more of the petrol vouchers we later learned). Thus we were forced to get another one which took us 45 minutes in the wrong direction first to huge Jewellery store and on the way back, got us stuck in an 100-strong mob of thai people on the way to pray. They surrounded the tuk-tuk, laughing and pointing and offering us flowers. Weird experience..
Wat Pho: - We eventually made it on our last day despite being told by 4 different people that it was closed. I don't know why thai water vendors/random people on the street do not want tourists to go there. It's right next to the Grand Palace - but by comparision is empty, and probably because everyone else is also being told it's closed. It has the most amazing huge reclining buddha (lying on it's side) which is like 50+ metres long by 15 wide.
Bangkok Bar - our fav bar on Soi Rambutre in Banglamphu. Plays great music and always seemed to meet really sound people in there. Also was just round the corner from our fav hostel so far - Four Sons Village (fan room with ensuite bath and balcony) only 350 baht a night! About four pounds fifty. Quite new and they let us make some free phone local phone calls too. A great place but don't trust Tom, the camp travel agent there...
Chatuchak Market - a weekend market of everything! Furniture, fishtanks, animals, clothes, mops, spiders (live hairy ones), food (spiders, locusts if you like) etc. It must stretch over a square mile. We only got round a small bit in like 6 hours but did plenty, plenty shopping.
Friday 12 November 2004
Kanchanaburi
Amy in Erawan waterfallWe're currently living in a hut in a field. It's one of many strange little African-style bungalows just out of the main town of Kanchanaburi. The hut's bedroom roof is thatched with straw, only a mosquito grill covers the windows and the bathroom doesn't have a roof, leaving us to shower by sun or moonlight. The shower itself is a mini-waterfall we turn on by twisting a bamboo tap. Take a look on the Little Creek website for pictures.
We were bowled over by the romance of it all - far away from the roar of Bangkok's traffic and with nothing but open fields, streams and mountains surrounding us. But that's where the fairy tale ended...
Returning to our hut at night, we found it infested with all manner of insects (attracted to the light that had been left on by the cleaner) and mouse droppings all over the place. We quickly hung the mosquito net and cowered inside, swatting bugs that got trapped under the cover and flicking their corpses out into the melee.
Once we'd cocooned ourselves inside, we were scared to get out again for fear of breaching our stronghold. We slept beneath a wall of hungry insects that were fearlessly searching for an entry point and were frequently woken by rodent squeaks, bats chattering and a fan I'd left on full pelt that chilled us to the bone.
Like a bad zombie film, we were glad when the sun came up and the brainless hoards, intent on sucking our blood, drifted away. We both walked away unscathed, but Amy has since been less fortunate, receiving a number of bites probably as an act of insect revenge (and prompting me to start a tally in the right hand column on this page). Recently we have found a hornets nest outside our door and a two-foot long snake skin, shed behind our toilet.
We've since moved to another hut which still has mice, but less insects. Which of course is far better.
What we've been up to: Yesterday we headed to Erawan Falls - a seven-tiered waterfall that stretches down a mountain. We trekked to the top (over 1,500 feet up - which took about an hour and a half) where the water was so clean you could drink it... if there weren't fish swimming in it. We cooled off in the water, then walked / climbed / fell back to the bottom again. We even saw some monkeys on the way down (probably fresh from robbing some tourists for their wallets).
We then took the 'Death Railway' that was built by POW in WWII for a two-hour trip back to town, crossing the Bridge over the River Kwai at the end. Just by chance it was November 11 - D-Day. For the first half hour the journey was hot, stuffy, crowded and with hardly anything to see - much like London Underground. But when all the locals got off, we could enjoy the rest of the journey and hang our heads (and tongues) out of the window like sweaty dogs.
We're off to see if there's anything worth eating on the floating restaurants in a moment, before heading back to Insect Armageddon again.
On Sunday November 14 we fly to Cambodia; a week later Chaing Mai (Northern Thailand), then South to some of Thailand's many islands.
Monday 8 November 2004
Mum - look away now...
We've been taken for a ride quite literally this week in our first experiences with the infamous Tuk-tuks of Bangkok.
They're basically a metal cage on three wheels with a driver sitting on a seat in front steering and contributing more smog to this already-polluted city.
Riding in one can be like a rollercoaster if the traffic is not too bad. It can be fun but dangerous/scary if you've got a loony in front driving in the wrong lane (on the wrong side of the road) just to try and beat the traffic. Yes, that did happen to us and it was not nice.
It's not just riding in them. In this city, you've also got to make a real effort not to be run over by one.
And before you've even got in, you have to bargain - like this:
Me - "To Khao San Road?"
Driver - "How much you want pay?"
M - "30 baht?"
D - "Hmm.. bad, bad 70 baht" *frowns and waves hands*
M - "40 baht?"
This goes on for a while until we agree on 50 baht and no stops.
This means he won't divert from our 15 min journey to Khao San road to drive us 30 mins in the opposite direction to take us to a top quality tailors/jewellers/tourist tat centre - just so he gets petrol coupons as commision from the shop. From the way I see it, he probably uses so much petrol taking us all that way in the wrong direction that he's definintely spent the petrol coupon before he's even got it! But anyway, it's a scam you try to avoid.
Even so, we still managed to get a bit lax on Friday and ended up visiting two jewellers, a tailors and a carpet shop...
View from a tuk-tukThey're basically a metal cage on three wheels with a driver sitting on a seat in front steering and contributing more smog to this already-polluted city.
Riding in one can be like a rollercoaster if the traffic is not too bad. It can be fun but dangerous/scary if you've got a loony in front driving in the wrong lane (on the wrong side of the road) just to try and beat the traffic. Yes, that did happen to us and it was not nice.
It's not just riding in them. In this city, you've also got to make a real effort not to be run over by one.
And before you've even got in, you have to bargain - like this:
Me - "To Khao San Road?"
Driver - "How much you want pay?"
M - "30 baht?"
D - "Hmm.. bad, bad 70 baht" *frowns and waves hands*
M - "40 baht?"
This goes on for a while until we agree on 50 baht and no stops.
This means he won't divert from our 15 min journey to Khao San road to drive us 30 mins in the opposite direction to take us to a top quality tailors/jewellers/tourist tat centre - just so he gets petrol coupons as commision from the shop. From the way I see it, he probably uses so much petrol taking us all that way in the wrong direction that he's definintely spent the petrol coupon before he's even got it! But anyway, it's a scam you try to avoid.
Even so, we still managed to get a bit lax on Friday and ended up visiting two jewellers, a tailors and a carpet shop...
Ping pong at midnight
We went to a Go-Go Bar last night. It's something that just has to be done if you come to Thailand. Missing the experience would be like travelling to Paris without seeing the Eiffel Tower. And no, I didn't bully Amy into it. She was just as keen, I promise.
The plan was hatched when Amy and I met a couple of Irish guys our own age in a bar round the corner from our hostel. They'd just arrived in Bangkok and while ticking through our lists of sights to see in the capital, the subject of ping pong came up and before we knew it we were in a cab on our way to Patpong.
Patpong used to be Bangkok's main red light district, but since word of the city's Go-Go Bars has got round (partly thanks to films like Priscilla Queen of the Desert), Bangkok's seedier underworld has moved elsewhere, turning the area into a popular destination for curious travellers. (Right, that's my spiel out of the way attempting to make last night seem more respectable.)
As I've said before, everyone is trying to rip you off in Bangkok, but this claim cannot be more true than in Patpong, where we were mobbed by touts attempting to get us into different bars. Thankfully, a friend had warned me of the scams that the bars try to pull (cheers Matt!), so we were a tad more clued up than some of the poor sods who we saw getting caught out.
A popular scam in Patpong is letting people into bars for free but charging them a fortune to leave. With no way of knowing which bar would be honest, we tried to find a lone lecherous old man who might be able to give us some tips. This wasn't an easy task - Patpong was mainly full of couples and even a few families out dining or drinking. We eventually found a jolly, middle-aged German chap out drinking who pointed us in the direction of a bar called the Queen's Castle. So after a brief walk, we bit the bullet and went in.
So what's the difference between Thailand's Go-Go Bars and Western strip joints? Well, while in the West clubs are filled with groups of men wanting to get their rocks off, entertainment in Patpong bars is more like a circus act. You couldn't possibly find what these girls are doing a turn-on. It's just frankly bizarre. And while I don't want to get into any detail, it involves stunts such as blowing out candles, picking up things with chopsticks, shooting darts at balloons and of course firing ping pong balls - all without the use of their hands. Give it a few years and I'm sure you'll see contestants attempting the same stunts on Jim Davidson's Generation Game.
Other than a couple of girls who seemed to be having a whale of a time, the other performers looked bored out of their minds. Another, although stripped to her waist in bikini bottoms, kept her socks on.
We only noticed a couple of quintessential sex tourists in the bar - other clientele included couples and some groups of girls (all Western, it appeared). We left an hour later and only spent 100baht each (1.40 GBP) on a drink. A cheap night's entertainment that we won't forget in a hurry.
Oh yeah, and I was hit on the leg by two ping pong balls and Amy had to punch one away from her face. But we washed afterwards.
The plan was hatched when Amy and I met a couple of Irish guys our own age in a bar round the corner from our hostel. They'd just arrived in Bangkok and while ticking through our lists of sights to see in the capital, the subject of ping pong came up and before we knew it we were in a cab on our way to Patpong.
Patpong used to be Bangkok's main red light district, but since word of the city's Go-Go Bars has got round (partly thanks to films like Priscilla Queen of the Desert), Bangkok's seedier underworld has moved elsewhere, turning the area into a popular destination for curious travellers. (Right, that's my spiel out of the way attempting to make last night seem more respectable.)
As I've said before, everyone is trying to rip you off in Bangkok, but this claim cannot be more true than in Patpong, where we were mobbed by touts attempting to get us into different bars. Thankfully, a friend had warned me of the scams that the bars try to pull (cheers Matt!), so we were a tad more clued up than some of the poor sods who we saw getting caught out.
A popular scam in Patpong is letting people into bars for free but charging them a fortune to leave. With no way of knowing which bar would be honest, we tried to find a lone lecherous old man who might be able to give us some tips. This wasn't an easy task - Patpong was mainly full of couples and even a few families out dining or drinking. We eventually found a jolly, middle-aged German chap out drinking who pointed us in the direction of a bar called the Queen's Castle. So after a brief walk, we bit the bullet and went in.
So what's the difference between Thailand's Go-Go Bars and Western strip joints? Well, while in the West clubs are filled with groups of men wanting to get their rocks off, entertainment in Patpong bars is more like a circus act. You couldn't possibly find what these girls are doing a turn-on. It's just frankly bizarre. And while I don't want to get into any detail, it involves stunts such as blowing out candles, picking up things with chopsticks, shooting darts at balloons and of course firing ping pong balls - all without the use of their hands. Give it a few years and I'm sure you'll see contestants attempting the same stunts on Jim Davidson's Generation Game.
Other than a couple of girls who seemed to be having a whale of a time, the other performers looked bored out of their minds. Another, although stripped to her waist in bikini bottoms, kept her socks on.
We only noticed a couple of quintessential sex tourists in the bar - other clientele included couples and some groups of girls (all Western, it appeared). We left an hour later and only spent 100baht each (1.40 GBP) on a drink. A cheap night's entertainment that we won't forget in a hurry.
Oh yeah, and I was hit on the leg by two ping pong balls and Amy had to punch one away from her face. But we washed afterwards.
Saturday 6 November 2004
Bangkok: first impressions
It's our third full day in Bangkok and we've packed loads in already, so today Amy and I are planning to take it easy. We've stayed in three different guesthouses on two different sides of the city but now we've given in and are settling near the Khao San road - the main tourist area.
Bangkok is a fantastic city - totally hectic (I like to compare it to Barter Town in Mad Max). Here are some things that have made an impression on me so far:
The traffic. The roads in Bangkok are gridlocked all day and night, despite attempts by the government to put on buses, sky trains, river taxis and now a new underground train service. This leads drivers to take as many short-cuts as possible, ignoring traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, turning the streets - and sometimes pavements - into one big bumper car race.
The people. Every Thai person in the tourist areas are trying to rip you off, albeit usually for as little as 20p. They'd sell you their own grandmother for a quick buck and probably overcharge you by 50 baht. But people out of the tourist areas are much more friendly, though I'm sure they still have an agenda. While visiting the 'lucky Buddha' statue in a temple yesterday, Amy and I chatted to a Thai man who said he worked for the UN. After a few minutes the man strayed from rejoicing over how much luck Buddha had brought him, to then give us the hard sell on a tailors in Southern Bangkok.
Blind karaoke beggars. They're everywhere! A boombox strapped round their neck, clutching a microphone in one hand and a begging cup in the other, belting out showtunes as they stare out at you with dead eyes. They make a fortune.
Stray cats and dogs. Always sleeping in the shade, like this dog we found outside a temple.
The smell. It stinks here. The roads make you dizzy with fumes and the streets sometimes smell of sewage. But enter a temple and you'll smell sweet incense and flowers... ahh.... I'm now contributing to the problem, by sweating pure chilli sauce after four days of spicey food.
Sex tourists. Old, pasty white men dining alone or seen walking through streets clutching the hand of a young, doll-faced Thai girl. When we stayed in Sukumvit, Eastern Bangkok, the place was full of them, but the Khao San area is mainly young travellers.
We're currently planning our move up north to Chiang Mai for cleaner air and a slower pace (and elephant rides). You can see some of the pictures we've taken so far on my flickr account.
Bangkok is a fantastic city - totally hectic (I like to compare it to Barter Town in Mad Max). Here are some things that have made an impression on me so far:
The traffic. The roads in Bangkok are gridlocked all day and night, despite attempts by the government to put on buses, sky trains, river taxis and now a new underground train service. This leads drivers to take as many short-cuts as possible, ignoring traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, turning the streets - and sometimes pavements - into one big bumper car race.
The people. Every Thai person in the tourist areas are trying to rip you off, albeit usually for as little as 20p. They'd sell you their own grandmother for a quick buck and probably overcharge you by 50 baht. But people out of the tourist areas are much more friendly, though I'm sure they still have an agenda. While visiting the 'lucky Buddha' statue in a temple yesterday, Amy and I chatted to a Thai man who said he worked for the UN. After a few minutes the man strayed from rejoicing over how much luck Buddha had brought him, to then give us the hard sell on a tailors in Southern Bangkok.
Blind karaoke beggars. They're everywhere! A boombox strapped round their neck, clutching a microphone in one hand and a begging cup in the other, belting out showtunes as they stare out at you with dead eyes. They make a fortune.
Stray cats and dogs. Always sleeping in the shade, like this dog we found outside a temple.
The smell. It stinks here. The roads make you dizzy with fumes and the streets sometimes smell of sewage. But enter a temple and you'll smell sweet incense and flowers... ahh.... I'm now contributing to the problem, by sweating pure chilli sauce after four days of spicey food.
Sex tourists. Old, pasty white men dining alone or seen walking through streets clutching the hand of a young, doll-faced Thai girl. When we stayed in Sukumvit, Eastern Bangkok, the place was full of them, but the Khao San area is mainly young travellers.
We're currently planning our move up north to Chiang Mai for cleaner air and a slower pace (and elephant rides). You can see some of the pictures we've taken so far on my flickr account.
Sunday 31 October 2004
Our leaving party
We really are leaving now. We've had the party to prove it.
Lots of our friends turned up on Saturday night to celebrate seeing the backs of us. We went to a new Brazillian bar off Drury Lane, London, called Guanabara. Quilombo do Samba - an 11-piece band consisting mainly of men smacking drums - really tested our hearing.
See some photos from the night. Mmmm... berry mojito.
Amy, Jody, SiljeLots of our friends turned up on Saturday night to celebrate seeing the backs of us. We went to a new Brazillian bar off Drury Lane, London, called Guanabara. Quilombo do Samba - an 11-piece band consisting mainly of men smacking drums - really tested our hearing.
See some photos from the night. Mmmm... berry mojito.
Monday 25 October 2004
Corruption before we've even gone anywhere!
Saw something bad today... Bit disapointed.
For those who don't know, we've been in touch with a volunteering organisation and were planning to go there to work with homeless kids for a few months. However, we've found out (from previous volunteers) that this so-called 'charitable' organisation is corrupt and the guy running it pockets a lot of the donations, so not much money goes to the kids themselves and the running of the centres.
This is a bit disconcerting. If we want to go and see for ourselves, we'll have to try and avoid giving donations in advance (something that is apparently required). However, I can't see how many people (we've read numerous accounts on the worldsurface site) can be lying... Most have said the same thing how they felt duped and lied to, and how they all wanted to help but the place was so badly run/poor - that it was impossible.
We'll definately have to re-think as this leaves a big hole in our plans. However on a brighter note, we're still planning to volunteer at Villa Tunari (the monkey sanctuary) and we've only heard good things about that! Maybe we can stay a bit longer too...
The preparations are going well - just over a week to go. It's the final countdown....
For those who don't know, we've been in touch with a volunteering organisation and were planning to go there to work with homeless kids for a few months. However, we've found out (from previous volunteers) that this so-called 'charitable' organisation is corrupt and the guy running it pockets a lot of the donations, so not much money goes to the kids themselves and the running of the centres.
This is a bit disconcerting. If we want to go and see for ourselves, we'll have to try and avoid giving donations in advance (something that is apparently required). However, I can't see how many people (we've read numerous accounts on the worldsurface site) can be lying... Most have said the same thing how they felt duped and lied to, and how they all wanted to help but the place was so badly run/poor - that it was impossible.
We'll definately have to re-think as this leaves a big hole in our plans. However on a brighter note, we're still planning to volunteer at Villa Tunari (the monkey sanctuary) and we've only heard good things about that! Maybe we can stay a bit longer too...
The preparations are going well - just over a week to go. It's the final countdown....
Saturday 23 October 2004
Homeless
As of today, Amy and I are officially homeless. After a horrible seven days of condensing everything we own into boxes and sending them off to both our parents' houses, we've moved out and are staying with Amy's folks for the final week before we leave.
It's been such a stressful hassle that we're going to need a really long holiday to recover.
Thanks to my mum, Amy's parents and everyone else who has lugged boxes around for us.
It's been such a stressful hassle that we're going to need a really long holiday to recover.
Thanks to my mum, Amy's parents and everyone else who has lugged boxes around for us.
Tuesday 12 October 2004
Three weeks to go today
Just three weeks before we board the plane to Thailand, so I thought I'd mark the occasion with the first post on the blog.
Amy and I spent Sunday evening creating a map with the times we aim to reach each location. I'm sure it'll prove laughably inaccurate as we change our course along the way, but nailing our route down was a handy exercise (it's easy to forget exactly where we're going with everything else we're dealing with - finishing work, packing up the house, shopping for nifty zip-off trousers...).
Why do a blog? It's for family, friends and the odd stranger to read and will be a useful journal for us to look back on. But don't expect frequent updates, unless the weather is very wet.
Amy and I spent Sunday evening creating a map with the times we aim to reach each location. I'm sure it'll prove laughably inaccurate as we change our course along the way, but nailing our route down was a handy exercise (it's easy to forget exactly where we're going with everything else we're dealing with - finishing work, packing up the house, shopping for nifty zip-off trousers...).
Why do a blog? It's for family, friends and the odd stranger to read and will be a useful journal for us to look back on. But don't expect frequent updates, unless the weather is very wet.
