A Return to Malaysia

My journey had been heading south through Thailand towards Malaysia.  And yet another interesting border crossing was to be encountered.  At least this time it wasn't due to the border authorities on either side.

Getting the bus to Penang meant getting the longtail boat off Tonsai back to Ao Nang.  This bit was accepted.  What wasn't was the rigmarole I had to go through with the buses.  A mini van picked me up from Ao Nang.  I was really hoping this wasn't to take me to Penang as it had seen better days.  It dropped me at a central point near Krabi to reassign passengers to other vans depending on where they were going.  I got back on the same van.  Alone.  I was then dropped off at their office in Krabi where I waited for 40 minutes before another van came to collect me with no one able to explain what was happening.  The next van was already full so I spent most of the 5 hours to Hat Yai, a border town in Thailand, sat on the very uncomfortable middle seat next to the driver.  At Hat Yai I was told to get off the van once more, again with no explanation of what was going on.  Thankfully it was only a short wait before I was bustled onto yet another van.  And finally someone was able to explain, albeit another passenger.  As there are so few people going from any particular place in South Thailand to the same place in Malaysia (other than the capital, Kuala Lumpur), they collect you and then gather you all in the same place before putting you onto a final van which takes everyone from different starting points to the same destination.  All very logical.  Would just help if someone explained this at some point...  Passports stamped & I was back in Malaysia and finally deposited in Georgetown, Penang, an island off the east coast of the Malaysian Peninsula.

Georgetown is an old colonial town first settled by the British for the East India Company in 1786 for its strategic position at the north end of the Straits of Malacca, the main trade route to the Orient.  Other than a stint of Japanese occupation during World War II it remained under British control until Malaysian independence in 1957.  And that's your brief history lesson for now.

The city is, to me, beautiful.  Old colonial town houses line the streets of the old quarter, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  My hostel was located in one of these buildings.  While only two stories high, they are very long and have an amazing amount of space.  My favourite was a bistro which had taken 2 of these buildings, back to back, creating a cafe on one street and a restaurant on the other, both with different themes and joining the back yards into a large courtyard.  The upper floors of both were then used as an gallery.  And this was a theme.  A lot of art galleries are housed in these buildings, and street art covers their exterior in many areas, particulalry around Lebuh Armenian.  The network of streets and alleys made it a wonderful city to explore, uncovering either new art or temples around every corner.  The temples in the old quarter are much more impressive that the newer ones.

I may have been somewhat spoilt in the temples I have seen so far, but some of the larger ones in Georgetown were a disappointment.  The Kek Lok Si temple is an old Chinese temple, with a pagoda, plenty of Buddha statues, and many buildings.  It is also mostly badly painted, cheaply tiled and has beggars everywhere, interspersed with shops not necessarily selling religious paraphernalia.  Similarly the Thai Buddhist temple has a large reclining Buddha, garishly painted.  Compared to the gold reclining Buddha at Wat Pho in Bangkok it looks positively tacky.  The Burmese temple on the other side of the road shows how it should be done, with a tall gold Buddha.  You may think that this is not the most important part of a temple, but it is certainly the most impressive and the one which you will remember your visit by.  In comparison the smaller temples do not try to make a point of large statues.  Quality craftmanship and remarkable attention  to detail made seeing these, such as the Khoo Kongsi clan temple, a true pleasure.

Another thing Georgetown has plenty of is museums.  Entrance varies depending on whether the museum is state owned (1 or 2RM - about 20-40p) or private (usually 20RM).  I went to a couple of state museums, being the Penang State Museum for a mighty 1RM, where I spent a good educational hour learning about Georgetowns history & multi-cultural origins, and Fort Cornwallis, the battlements of which have stood for nearly 200 years.  The fort is small and a bit, well, meh, but for 40p I'm not going to cry.  For a private museum I went to the Camera Museum which has a good collection of camera through the ages, old camera obscuras to play with (I enjoyed the juxtaposition of taking a photo with my digital camera through one of these!), and a room size pinhole camera which showed the simple process in some style.

If you're a camera buff (a bit like me) the this is quite a good museum, but the 20RM fee I felt was still a bit high for a small museum, & way too much for someone who is just mildly intrigued.  Or taken against their will.  Feedback from other travellers on cultural museums, such as the Chueng Fatt Tze Mansion had pretty much the vibe - too much for way too little.

Too get away from the city for a while I headed out to the Penang National Park where I hoped to find some decent trekking.  I intended to spent a couple of nights & give myself plenty of time, but the guesthouse I found was less than desirable, populated by a couple of residents who looked as if they had been there way too long and the surrounding town void of entertainment.  A quick search revealed that this was the only place in a decent location for a decent price, so I stayed, hoping the weather would be nice & I would get my treks done in one day - an ambitious idea.  I was shown to the room by the owners son who would not take payment & said his dad would come & see me soon.  He did not.  I woke to the sound of heavy rain, and a heavy heart - would I have to stay an extra, boring day? - but when I eventually got up the rain had stopped & the early heat had dried most of the ground.  Grey clouds still lingered, but this at least stopped it getting as hot as it could have done.  My walks took in both of the trails in the national park, the first going over the hill to the west coast, a pleasant beach and a meromiktik lake, one of only 19 in the world.  They are formed by a layer of salt water that filters through the sand of the beach & settles under the fresh water lake created from water coming off the hills.  But the tide was out & it was a bit unimpressive.  I retraced my steps back up the hill and took a second trail to Monkey Beach.  Despite being the main attraction in the park, this is the harder trail.  While it hugs the coast & the overall rise is not as great, it necessitates a lot of clambering over trees and rocks.  And seems to go on for ever.  And the beach is not that great either.  Maybe it was just the overcast skies, my exhaustion, or the fact I was sharing the beach with a few muslim women, unable to sunbathe in their full burkhas.  It was just a bit rubbish.  I continued past the beach & climbed to the Muka Head lighthouse.  This was a long, steep climb and nearly finished me off, but I finally arrived (where I found a sign saying this was the most difficult of Penangs lighthouses to get to - the rest are all at sea level & in towns!) & climbed the steps to the top of the lighthouse.  To views which may have been spectacular if it wasn't grey.  It was starting to be a bit of a let down.  I retraced my steps down the hill and along the coast, finally seeing the park gates with a smile on my face.  I had covered 14.6km in just over 5 hours.  And realised I had forgotten to eat all day.  That was a bad idea.  It was mid afternoon, so I got my bags & got out of there, finally meeting the owner on the way out to be able to pay him.  I had nearly managed to get a free night,  but am actually glad I didn't.  It's just not right not to pay for your lodging, however poor it may have been (unless service is awful, of course...)

I returned to Georgetown to recover from my exertions (ie, I went to the cinema.  I seem to do that a lot in Malaysia.  Quick tip - take a jumper.  They have the air-con really cold.  I nearly froze watching The Hobbit) and finally eat for the first time in nearly 24 hours.  It was good and well earned.

My next port of call was Tahan Rata in the Cameron Highlands. This area is in central Malaysia and as the name suggests is much higher than the rest, so it is much cooler.  As a result it is a good climate for growing fruit, vegetables and tea.  And lots of trekking through the jungle.

I had met Joseph on the rather scary bus ride (the driver was throwing it around the mountain bends and overtaking anywhere it wasn't safe) and found we were going to the same hostel.  After checking in we had a chat with the hostel owners about treks in the area and were told that a Rafflesia had bloomed and a tour was going the next day. Whilst not exactly rare, these plants only bloom for up to 10 days, and it had only just come out that day.  So we booked to get a chance of this marvel.  First up though was food.  Again I had not eaten for ages (not my fault! - the stall owner at lunch refused to sell me any noodles for no apparent reason) so we found the Sunday market & tucked into street food that was amazing good and stupidly cheap.  Roti Mutarbak is now a favourite.

We started the next day early.  It was a bit cold but the trek to the bloom soon sorted that out.  It was a tough walk at times, especially the final section up a steep muddy climb, and our guide showed us as much wildlife as he could - including a-bit-too-large-for-comfort-and-quite-definitely-poisonous spider.  I have refrained from calling the Rafflesia a flower because it isn't.  It's a parasitic fungus which grows on vines.  It blooms once and then dies.  And they bloom high in the jungles of Malaysia and Indonesia.  Guides search for the buds all year round and tell the tour companies when one is about to bloom.  So due to the unpredictable nature of seeing Malaysias national 'flower' this was a bit of an unexpected treat!  And we were not disappointed (although apparently the ones on Sumatra & Borneo are much bigger - ours was only about 70cm across).

The other attractions in the area are tours around the strawberry fields and tea plantations.  We found a tour that combined a tea plantation with the 'mossy forest'.  I was not going to a strawberry field - the endless polytunnels and greenhouses that cover the hillsides make the Cameron Highlands look like a huge allotment (I suppose it kind of is...) and I could go and see a garden centre at home.  We were joined on this trip by Renske.  It started with a visit to the tea plantation itself for a photo session.  The clouds were low again but the plantations were impressive.  Pickers could be seen on distant slopes.  The next stop was the viewing tower on the highlands highest peak, Gunung Brinchang, where our guide promised us views of... well, the clouds.  The cloud was still low.  Lower than us.  Visibility was about 20m.  We saw a couple of trees.

The mossy forest was much more interesting.  It is what it says it is, a forest covered in moss, mostly sphagnum moss which retains more water than it's own weight and is therefore vitally important for the planets ecosystem.  The forests of Malaysia also contain a huge amount of medicinal plants (and even more poisonous ones) and so conservation and research of this area, which is starting to heat up (which is bad) is essential.  It is also beautiful.

Our path wound it's way through the forest, side paths with drooping mosses looked as if fairies would appear at any moment (they wouldn't - they don't exist - sorry for spoiling your dreams, but that's my job), pitcher plants everywhere and the occasional orchid.  We finished up with a quick tour of the the processing plant and a much more leisurely pot of tea and a cake.  It was alright...  Unlike the trip to the Rafflesia, where a guide is needed to know where the bloom is, this trip could have been done without a tour.  But we wouldn't have been privy to all the information nor the guides great sense of humour.  Sometimes it can be best to do the tourist thing.

Joseph & I got some trekking through the hill done on the way back to the hostel, first with some very steep up & down climbs and then a much more enjoyable walk meandering through the forest.  Not that many years ago there were many more trails but the rapid encroachment of development and agriculture has resulted in the loss of a lot of forest.  It's a double edged sword - the beauty brings in the visitors, but destroys it to make way for more.

We were unsure where to go next - Taman Negara for more jungle trekking, or Kuala Lumpur for the Hindu Thaipusam festival.  I was in urgent need of a laundry session, so a return to KL won.  No luxury this time - I was in a dorm.  A very dark dorm with a floor covered in bags.  It was a bit dangerous getting down off the top bunk.  Our hostel was also next door to the largest Hindu temple in KL, so we were surprised with a bit of a street procession as the devotees transported the statue of Murugan to the Batu Caves for the main festivities.  Thaipusam is a festival celebrating the god Murugan, occurs, like Easter, at a different time every year, and we had stumbled into the middle of it.  The focus point in KL is the Batu Caves, 11km north of the city.  The procession for devotees starts in the middle of KL and is bout 15km long, although spiritual preparations last for 48 days.  During this time they show their devotion by carrying jars of milk on their heads, weights (usually fruit - limes, apples, pomelos) attached to their bodies by hooks through their flesh - the heavier the better (I saw someone with 2 kg of apples hanging off them) or even with ropes attached, dragging people behind them.  Some even carry large headdresses weighing 100kg, needing a framework to keep them upright, for the full distance.

Culminating in a climb of the 272 steps to the caves themselves.  We took the train & started about 100m from the steps...  It still took over 2&1/2 hours to get to the shrine of Murugan.  It was an amazing experience to be in the middle of this.  Many people had worked themselves into a trance, small children would be overwhelmed with the heat and noise of the occasion.  The sight that showed the devotion the most to me was spears pierced through the tongue, ensuring a vow of silence and supposedly giving the power of endurance.

Renske headed to Melaka the next day, Joseph continued his exploration of KL, & I went on the now traditional cooking class.  This was a really god one, but a tad expensive.  The usual market tour was very good, lots of time given to tasting spices and fruits, and eating the breakfast of Roti Canai (also now a favourite).  Many people say the best thing about the market tour is seeing how to buy meat and fish.  Really?  You need to get out of the supermarket and down to your local butcher - that aspect of shopping does not change no matter where the country.  The cooking itself was done in a nice building in the hills with great teachers, always helping, making sure you don't mess up, and always ready for a chat about anything food related or not.  It was very hands on (apart from long or complex procedures) and the food very good - beef rendang, prawn fritters (first time I had ever deep fried - and no one died!), cucumber salad and Kueh Koci - a steamed, glutinous coconut dessert.

KL had not much more to offer, so I said farewell to Joseph & followed Renske to Melaka.  My first hostel was full of old people.  So I moved for need of atmosphere into a place in the middle of Chinatown (everywhere has one.  And a Little India.).  I found Melaka to be a lot like Georgetown, a lot smaller and a lot more touristy, the streets full of trishaws (basically a bicycle with a little carriage) which were garishly decorated, blared music out at all hours, and some even had wifi for that authentic experience.  No, I did not partake.

It is again a colonial city, this time rising from sultanate rule from 1405-1511 when the Portuguese arrived, the Dutch took over in 1641 and then the British went all Empire on it. A walk around Chinatown and along the river had the main sights done in a day, mostly temples.  On the other side of the river was the site of the original Portuguese fort, of which little remains, and Dutch buildings of the Stadthuys, bell tower and church, long with a mock up of a sultanate palace.  The rest was the now familiar townhouse.  An interesting site was Bukit China, a cemetery for a single Chinese clan, still in use and recently saved from redevelopment.  The tombs were like small barrows, a gravestone at the entrance and a kind of altar in front for family to come and pay respects.  It had a solemn feeling of awe, quite different to a Christian graveyard.

At the weekends Jonkers Walk comes alive with a street market and entertainment, but is generally selling overpriced tat and cakes and crowded with Chinese tourists moving as slow as ever and having their pictures taken in front of anything and everything (a postcard stand!? That's what you want to remember of your visit!?).  In fact, finding food was a problem - most restaurants, even the local food courts, seemed to have random opening hours, and you were never sure what they were selling.  The other options were usually expensive places for tourists.  Until I found a cheap local Indian place doing great rotis.  Then I was happy.

Melaka only needs a couple of days.  Spare time was spent in the cinema (it is so much cheaper than at home, but the Malays have not quite got the idea of being quiet) so when there were no more films to watch I headed back to KL to arrange the next step of my journey and enjoy a brief reunion with Martin & Stefan from Pai.  It has become standard to check the crowds in hostels for a friendly face, but the regularity and randomness of meetings with the folk of Pai is astounding.  Tine has also met up with many on her travels through Laos and Cambodia.  The phenomenon has become known as 'Pai on Tour'.  Long may it continue.

I am now sat in the hostel lobby in KL, less than 7 hours until my flight out (my first trip on a plane since I arrived in Cambodia just over 4 months ago).  Monsoon season means that the islands on the west coast of Malaysia are closed for a couple more weeks, so I feel that my time in the country is now done.  I have no need to return, at least not on this trip.  In my 3 visits here I have made many friends and had some fantastic experiences.  But I feel that I have been able to absorb myself more in the local atmosphere. I have had more time to travel here than other countries (Malaysia gives you a standard 90 day entry which means you never feel rushed) and so have had a lot more downtime in cities and a chance to talk to people about how they live and the hardships that they sometimes have to endure.  One woman I met lives in a cheap hotel, owes the owner several months rent, but still manages to raise her child without help from her family ho have disowned her because her grandparents favoured her more than them, after they had crushed her dreams of becoming a surgeon as they did not want to spend the money on her education.  A Nepalese guy working in a hostel was forced to leave his country for reasons I will not go into (very complicated - not his fault), was stuck in a 3 year contract that gave him no time of at all (to the point where he arranged activities for the guests as something for him to do away from his job), while not having spoken to his parents for 14 years as he did not want to live the life they had planned out for him.  He tried to call them for 10 years, but they refused to speak to him.  His sister is his only contact with home.  People like this can be found all over South East Asia.  I consider myself very lucky to be in a position where I can live the life I lead, not needed parental blessings or having to live their dreams.  I hope everyone with a pack on their back is just as grateful.

Time Out in Thailand

First of all - Happy New Year!  2013 was a bit of a crazy one, with a massive life change.  And it's going well!

It took me a while to work out how to compose this blog.  Thailand was a bit different to the other countries I've been to so far.  Having a two month visa meant that, obviously, I was able to stay here beyond the normal 30 days, which in turn meant I could take more time seeing the country.  I just saw a lot less than intended.  Thailand was a time when my plans constantly changed depending on mood and budget, which became an increasing factor.  It also means you're getting a long blog...

We made our border crossing easily with the only hiccup being that the border guard didn't notice I had a double entry visa so voided it.  And then corrected it.  I assume.  He scribbled on it, but I can't read Thai...  Not that this would matter in the end.  Maddy, Jenny & I joined again by Whitney & Jessica while we were waiting for the bus, made our way to Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand.

It had been my intention to be in Chiang Mai for the lantern festival, Loy Krathong, since I left England.  And I was not disappointed.  With a few others from the hostel we bought lanterns and made our way to the temple at Mae Jo University.  The roads were packed on the way out there, and we feared we had left it too late, especially when we found we had to walk with the invariably slow local crowd to the temple.  The streets leading there were thronged with people eager to get there, which gave me some hope that we had not missed it, and with stalls selling food & lanterns.  Not a good idea, really, as this meant there was even less space for everyone.  We eventually found our way to a very full field.  We assumed this was where we were supposed to be.  There was a temple looking structure at one end & chanting was being broadcast over the tannoy.  Lots of people milled about. Occasionally a lantern would be released from outside, making us wonder if this was the place to be, or if we had indeed missed it.  Then lanterns started to be released from the temple grounds as the chanting was going on.  A message was relayed not to release the lanterns yet.  (We had actually split & lost the people with ours so this was no longer an issue).  Slowly more lanterns were raised as the chanting ended.  A horn sounded, music started to play & thousands of lanterns were finally released into the night sky.  The release went on for several minutes and was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen!

What wasn't quite so beautiful was the thousands of people who had gathered over several hours trying to escape down the same road we had come up.  There was not enough room for this.  I am surprised if people are not seriously injured in the crush, but health and safety is not a major issue in Thailand.

Jenny & Maddy were due to go home & were suffering from travel fatigue, so it took a few days before we got around to doing anything.  First up was zip-lining.  Again something I had never done before.  There are several companies offering pretty much the same package and some shopping around has to be done, but I found that the Flying Squirrel was cheapest, offered a route with a bike and a skateboard amongst other things and had been created by people working at the original zip-line coarse, Flight of the Gibbon.  The only downside I could see was the possibility of a slightly naff free t-shirt...  So Maddy, Cerin (who we had found again after he left Luang Prabang & spent some time in Pai) & I set off to speed through the trees.  It was a great experience.  The first couple get you used to it & any nerves were settled by the time I was halfway across the first line.  By the time we did the 600m line we were happily sitting in our harness looking at the stunning view!  The bike & skateboard were fun but all in all it was a great time.

The second trip was to an elephant farm.  There are again many to choose from, both large touristic farms where the animals are not looked after well to smaller enterprises where their well-being comes first.  We chose Woody's Elephant Farm, partially because we happened to be staying at his guesthouse.  I say we.  Maddy was actually ill.  It was her idea, & was just really going along with it. I was also suffering from  long night out so not feeling my best off i went.  It was one of the best things I have ever done.  No palanquins are used by Woody's as these hurt the elephants.  Similarly they do not beat the elephants with the hook, but merely place it on the head and apply a small pressure.  The elephants are trained to know hat this means.  Other farms do hit the elephants and dig the hook in.  This is not necessary!  I could see that our elephants were happy.  When we went on a short trek riding on their backs (which is very uncomfortable if you happen to be at the front) they would often wander off the track a short way to eat some food and continue in their own time.  Other farms would have enforced discipline.  (Whitney, who had been to Woody's earlier, also went to one of the bigger farms later.  She said she had been horrified by the treatment of the elephants, the sad look in their eyes and the platforms that you were to ride on.  She left in tears.)  We got to wash them and feed them.  And then went swimming with them, whereby you sit on their backs and hold on for dear life as they plunge into a pool so the water is well over your mid-riff!  It was fantastic to have such an intimate experience with the elephants - you do everything with the same elephant so that they get to know & trust you.  I am so glad I did this.

Finally, Cerin & I did our obligatory cooking class.  Situated in a farm outside Chiang Mai it was a good hands on class doing five dishes.  For me it was comforting to know that two of my favourite dishes to cook, Phad Thai and Massamum Curry, were pretty close how they should be.  Cerin and another chef on the course were always asking questions, getting further information on ingredients and techniques, which was good for me as well for a further level of understanding.  Too finish with we made the ubiquitous Sweet Sticky Rice with Mango.  It wasn't the only option (the other chef also went & made deep fried bananas for the staff!) but everyone wanted to see it done. And I got to be the one making it!  Which meant a lot of pressure to make sure I didn't burn the lot.  I didn't, and with seasoning advice from our visiting chefs we created a very nice dessert.

After everyone had left I made a trip to the White Temple at Chiang Rai.  This is a very new temple, construction on started in 1996.  It is entirely white on the exterior, with mirrors inset to make it sparkle.  That alone would have made it look pretty smart.  What makes this temple very different is it's details.  There are few Buddhas.  This is not a temple based on peace.  It's something to do with death.  There is a bridge leading to the main temple, but at the foot of the bridge is a pool of hands, reaching to the sky as if to escape from their descent to hell.  A few of these holds skulls aloft.  In fact, skulls are very prominent - heads hang from trees, even the traffic cones have little red skulls on top!  It was a scene I am sure Dante would have looked upon with admiration.  Apparently the inside of the temple has odd paintings of Superman, but not being Buddhist I wasn't allowed inside to find out.

Cerin had said Pai was great, and I found that they had a Circus School there at which I hoped to finally make some progress with my juggling (I had started last Easter but never got anywhere).  When asked to expand on why Pai was so good, the answer from most people was, 'It just is.  You have to experience it.'  So off I went, for what could be a pivotal moment for me...

Pai...  It is a small town 132km north west of Chiang Mai along highway 1095 to Mae Hong Son, a great road, twisting and turning through the mountains and much loved by travellers for hiring a scooter to make the journey themselves.  Rather than the slightly safer bus.

There is not much to do in Pai.  It has a tourist centre based around a few roads, full of cafes and bars.  The streets come alive every night with a market selling all kinds of food, from the standard Phad Thai or fried rice jacket potatoes (a favourite), waffles, roti, deep fried ice cream, all the way through to insects (which I have finally tried - I prefer larvae as they are sweeter although crickets are nice if seasoned well...).  Every night was spent here finding something new to eat, savouring old favourites.  During the day the cafes held sway.  Brunch was generally taken at around noon, occasionally 1:30.  It was that kind of place.

Pai would have been just nice if it hadn't been for the Circus School and the people I met there.  They made it into a magnificent place.  The circus school sits on a hill overlooking the town, and as such has the best view, and therefore sunsets, in town.  Nearly everyday was spent on the pagoda waiting to see if that days sunset would have more vibrant colours than the previous nights.

And we did nothing.  There was me, Tine and Martin, who made up a triumvirate which would stay together for nearly three weeks.  Along with Chaz and Adam, the Circus teachers, and a long line of guests who came and went, or didn't leave, or came back again, the days flew by.  Until now I had been one of the most adventurous travellers I had found, given the duration I was out for.  People who had hitchhiked through India for months, some travelling with less than the bare essentials, even one working as a journalist for a major online financial website who was writing his pieces from 'the office' - a sofa in the corner of the reception area!  Listening to the stories they had to tell was an eye opener, sometimes in a surprising way.

We didn't just do nothing (although our ethos was to do as little as possible - when we tried some meditation classes it sat uneasily as we were actively pursuing doing nothing, and therefore doing something).  After about a weeks we rented scooters to have a look at a nearby waterfall and Pai canyon, which did rival the pagoda for best sunset.  We took part in the free yoga sessions put on for us, hilariously as we had no strength or balance and were just falling on the floor all the time (I don't know what has happened to me, but I used to be much better!).  And I finally learnt to juggle.  Just a couple of quick bits of advice from Chaz and Adam was all it took & it clicked.  I also learnt to twirl the fire staff.  It looks impressive.  When done by people who know what they're doing.  I have a lot of practice to do on this.  This was actually one of the daily highlights of the circus school - every day there would be a lesson & new people either playing with staff or poi on fire.  During the day the residents (as we became to be known) would be seen juggling with balls and clubs, practicing the poi, staff, diablo and slackline.  It was free entertainment, and totally enthralling.

Two things of note: early in my stay I bumped in Katie, who I had met in Xi'an months ago.  We had been in touch ever since an had realised we would cross paths again here.  It was great to catch up and exchange stories and tips for the next steps in each others travels.  The other thing was less cheerful.  Cerin had been due to meet me in Pai.  After a couple of days I contacted to see if he was coming.  He had been attacked at a bar in Chiang Mai and beaten up, unprovoked and over nothing.  He had suffered multiple head wounds, including a cracked jaw and broken eye socket.  He was forced to go home for reconstructive surgery.  It is unbelievable that this could happen to one of the nicest people I have met on my travels and a reminder that trouble is never far away in life.  (I can report that the surgery went well and Cerin is looking forward to travelling again as soon as possible.)

Eventually though my itch kicked in again.  I decided to walk to the Mae Yen waterfall, a 14km round trip through the woods along the river.  It was nice to be by myself with nature.  The waterfall itself was impressive an a good location for meditating.

On my return, however, it seems that this much activity was too much for some to cope with.  Tine left the next day.  It was strange after she had left.  We had got close as a group, talking, laughing, sharing ideas & stories (the best was the endless discussion we had on how to design the best hostel ever, money being no object & profit unnecessary - including hammocks set on ziplines to the toilet so you didn't have to get up!).  All good things must come to an end though, and while our time together was far to brief I am sure this is another lasting friendship.

Seeing that things were coming to an end (in addition, our pagoda had been taken over by a new group and a couple of the resident puppies - unbelievably cute - had been sent to new homes), I decided to do my final trip here. With a couple of others, I rented a scooter and went to Lod Caves.  This was not the first time on a scooter since the accident in Vietnam.  I had been on one in Chiang Mai on a trip to Doi Suthep temple, and to Pai canyon, during which I had my first ride at night.  But I still didn't feel overly confident.  That changed on this trip.  The road to Lod Caves is twisty and turny up the mountain, with some very sharp curves.  I felt very comfortable this time.  Lod Caves themselves were very impressive.  An underground river takes you to 3 different caves with stalactite formations, cave paintings and ancient burial chambers.  With only our guides oil lantern for light it was very atmospheric.  It was getting late by the time we headed back, and by the time we got to the top of the mountain the sun was setting.  Which meant the descent would be done in the dark.  I had hoped to avoid this, but we had started later than planned.  But I felt good as I swung the bike the bike through the corners and cranked the throttle along the straights.  I definitely feel more confident on a scooter now & am thinking about learning properly when I return home.

And then I left it behind as well.  Pai was a moment in time, a group of strangers brought together and lasting friendships forged.  I had not felt quite like this since Kota Kinabalu, nearly four months earlier.  It took a couple of days in Chiang Mai before the feeling of displacement left.  First I had to work out what to do next.  I wanted to be on a beach for Christmas.  I had 10 days to go.  I had planned to go to Myanmar first.  That wasn't going to happen.  I had wanted to see the ancient capital of Sukhothai, the ruins at Ayutthaya and the Bridge over the River Kwai at Kanchanaburi.  I did not have time.  My mind was full of ideas nd missed opportunities.  So I did what I always did in these situations - I went climbing, the only time I can clear my head.  And the answer came - I would get the bus to Sukhothai, then go through Bangkok to Tonsai, where I had heard from Maddy that there was some fantastic climbing, continue to Malaysia, travel to Myanmar from Kuala Lumpur, back to Bangkok and have a little clean up session from there.  Sorted.

It was as easy as that.  I packed, got on  bus, went to Sukhothai.  I was now alone again, properly, for the first time since Kota Kinabalu.  It was fine though.  I had a plan.  I borrowed a push bike from the hotel and went off the the ruins of the old city.  It is a large complex of temples and statues of Buddha.  Frankly they are mostly the same, some bigger than others, some in a better state of repair, but all in all a pleasant day was had cycling around the ruins.  And it left left me totally templed out.  Something has got to be really impressive to get me interested now!

After just a day I hopped on the next bus to Bangkok, where I stayed a massive 2&1/2 hours at Mo Chit bus station waiting for the first bus to Krabbi.  It was a gruelling 13 hours overnight bus.  Not one of the Vietnamese sleeper buses either - just normal seats to try and get some sleep.  I uncurled myself in the morning and got a tuk-tuk to Ao Nang before catching a longtail boat to Tonsai beach where I gratefully found a room at the first place I inquired at, the highly recommended Pasook Resort.  It was a bit basic, but frankly the cheapest avaliable at late notice at Christmas and after 24 hours of travelling it was a bed.

Tonsai, as mentioned, is a beach.  On the shore are a row of bars, and another road loops around the back through the woods upon which are the resorts, mainly bungalows.  It is only accessible by boat, giving it an almost island feel.  On the other side of the bay is the beach of Railay West, which can be accessed by a paths either through the woods behind the cliffs or across the front of them, or by crossing the rocks on the shore at low tide.  Also there are Railay East and Phranang beaches.  Between them are great cliffs with the best rock climbing in South East Asia.  The routes at Tonsai are the hardest.  I did an intermediate course and took on some of the routes at Railay.  It was fun and hard, but the course leader was not very good - we also had beginners in our group yet he still proposed warming up on a grade harder than I'd done in Vang Vieng.  Although I had come here primarily to climb, this was the only time I did.  I picked up a couple of little injuries which prevented me doing much more and could not find another climbing centre which seemed interested in my business.  I would like to come back one day with other climbers and tackle the routes at my leisure, as I saw many doing during my stay there. It was actually very good to watch them & see the things that experienced climbers are cable of.

The beaches have very different ambiances.  Tonsai is a backpacker haven, like Pai.  Most of the bungalows are basic, if not wooden, and all the bars are made of wood.  All you can see all day are climbers and base jumpers.  The others are driven by high end resorts, the beaches full of sun worshippers from Eastern Europe and Russia.  Tonsai has a much more active feel.  I much preferred it, only venturing to Railay twice to see a couple of small caves and a lagoon for something to do, and also because it had the only cash machines.

As with Pai, I settled into a routine.  I woke, got breakfast at Pyramid cafe (there was little choice on the beach), read, juggled, had a shower when the electricity was turned on so I had light, and went to watch a movie most nights, regardless of how bad it was, at one of the bars.  Without a dorm, and not actively climbing, I found it difficult to meet many people.  I did spend Christmas with the rest of my group from climbing, but they were gone after a couple of days.  Christmas on a beach was fantastic though!  No feeling that you should be having a good time, trying to keep everyone happy.  I just had a good day & finished it with a massage looking at the bay.

In a desire to do something I decided to take a group tour to some local islands. This meant getting to Ao Nang.  I found that the boats are run by three companies, one on each beach, and that the Tonsai boatmen feel like they have a monopoly.  They want to make 800 Baht from every boat.  If it's just one person they will not lower the price.  Trying to get an early morning boat is a nightmare.  I did a agree a deal with a boatman from another beach, but when approached by the Tonsai firm he refused.  Eventually enough people were found & I got to Ao Nang in time, but I really do think they could run this a bit better and more fairly if they joined together.  My trip took in Daenang Island for some open water snorkelling, where the coral was good and fish colourful, but not as vibrant as previously in Sabah, lunch on Pakbai Island, two rocky outcrops where at low tide a beach forms between the two, and kayaking at Hong Island, which had a shallow lagoon, only 70cm deep at low tide.  I did not get to kayak in the lagoon, but did get to go into open sea.  It was tough work against the waves, and the swell from motor boats didn't help.  I also found that tourists do not mix as well as travelers.  Only when I went kayaking with someone did anyone talk outside their original groups.

I went back to my island and awaited New Year.  I had intended to spend it on Koh Phi Phi, but was hearing stories that it was full.  As I had a definite bed I decided to stay where I was.  It turned out to be a good decision.  One day, sat at a beach bar, I looked out and saw a familiar face.  I had met Jordan at Pai, he was one of the group who had taken over the pagoda, and he was here with a couple of others from that group.  That New Years was possibly the best I have ever had, watching fireworks and lanterns being set off from Railay & floating over the bay, the music pumping out of all the bars on Tonsai, fire displays going on all the time with poi & staff.  It was a magical scene and I am glad I saw in the New Year with friends in such a wonderful setting.

Finally I decided it was time to move on again.  And again plans were changed at the last minute.  I still had time left on my visa and wanted to travel the islands down to Langkawi in Malaysia, but either everywhere was full or the prices were too high on my budget to do the journey by boat.  So I decided that I was done with beaches and paradises for now and booked a bus to Penang.

I don't think I have had a typical Thai experience.  I have not been to any of the islands, and intentionally skipped the hedonistic delights of Koh Phangan and diving of Koh Tao for the chilled climbing of Tonsai.  I have avoided Bangkok and Kao San Road, instead wanting the laid back city feel of Chiang Mai.  And the time I spent in Pai meant I was not able to see as many sights as I wanted.  But I would not have traded by time there for anything, and the sights I missed will still be there when I come back in a few months time.  I do not feel my time has been wasted.  I may have been starting to feel jaded.  I have had time away and can start the second half of my journey reinvigorated & with a fresh desire to see and experience the world.  And most importantly I have travelled the way I wanted to travel, done what I wanted to do, how I wanted to do it.  Because this is my adventure.

I also know that Pai and Tonsai are not finished with me yet in this life...

Laos - Second Chances...

Laos is the second country I had been to on my short travels last year.  I was having adverse reactions to my anti-malarials (something I will avoid this year by not taking any, probably much to the chagrin of one avid reader of these pages who is just finding this out) and was frankly not in a mental or physical state to fully enjoy myself.  Coming in from Northern Vietnam and heading to Northern Thailand, I knew I would be covering the same ground as last year, missing out the 4000 Islands near the Cambodian border in the south.

We start the journey in Hanoi, as yet another crazy ass Vietnamese border shenanigans must be related. I was picked up from the hostel by a moped, who's driver proceeded to weave through the Hanoi rush hour traffic with me & my bags on the back, whilst having a nice (or so I assume) chat on his mobile.  I was still not fully over the effects of the crash going into Hue & I was to say the least a tad nervy for the few - but too many - minutes I spent on the back of his bike.  I was deposited by the side of the road & he went off in search of other people for the bus.  Having collected us, he then left again, leaving us wondering what was going on, until he came back with a taxi.  Most confusing as we were expecting a sleeper bus.  We all piled in, with no idea of what was going on & were eventually taken to the bus station..  That turned out to be the easy bit.  Aslo the nicest as, while I the bunks were small as usual, I somehow bagged the entire back row of 5 beds to myself!  We were rudely awoken at 6am by the bus driver telling us to get off so we could go through immigration.  Apparently the bus had stopped at the border 3 hours earlier, but as it was closed had to wait.  So we went in search of food.  Or rather, everyone else did as I had changed all my Vietnamese Dong into US$ in Hanoi (apart from some I would later find in the pocket of some shorts.  Grrr....).  An hour later we were finally allowed to leave Vietnam but not before their final surprise. The border guards, clearly low on petty cash for snacks and knowing that, stuck miles from anywhere, we were in no position to argue, demanded 1$ before they would even acknowledge our existence.  As anyone who has worked with me knows, I'm not very good in this sort of situation.  There was some mild remonstrations between myself and 2 other English Lads, Matt & Martin with the guards, mounting to the fact that we had paid our visa fees and they had no legal backing for this action.  Even our bus driver was not willing to help and just waved our complaints away. We eventually gave in, paid, watched the cash go into a drawer, and walked to a nicer man who checked we had indeed had our passports stamped. The worst thing was, this was our last impression of Vietnam - police corruption and wanting to squeeze everything out of Western travellers.  I acknowledge that we are in a better state financially than the majority of people living over here, but we are not here to be scammed.  We are not walking dollar signs.  We have no income while we are here.  And, most importantly, we do not want our experiences of a wonderful country sullied by a couple of greedy officials.  Then insult was rubbed into injury and we were made to walk over the hill through no mans land to Laos, leaving our bags on the bus.  We spent easily half an hour getting our visas done, and I'm sure they managed to scam another dollar out of us for stamping the visa, before the worst bit happened.  We walked out of the immigration building to find... no bus.  We assumed it was just delayed behind us so waited.  And waited.  And waited.  After an hour we started to get a bit concerned so raised a query with the Laos border guards.  Who merely either ignored us or laughed at us.  Anyone who's worked with me see where this is going?  Yup.  I got a bit mad.  It's just as well they spoke little or no English, as shouting in a government officials face that you're going to throw him in a gorge if he doesn't find out what is going on may get you into a spot of bother.  I was ashamed of my response to the situation, or rather the lack of assistance being given.  I thought this part of me was gone.  Still work to do...  A couple of Ukrainians on the bus walked back through no mans and to see what was happening & came back to divulge that the bus was still in Vietnam being searched by customs due to lack of papers for cargo being transported by locals.  This calmed the situation & we waited for the bus.  Finally, 2 & 1/2 hours after entering Laos, the bus turned up and we continued to Vientiane.  From door to door the journey took 24 hours.  I had not eaten in longer than that and was starved.  It was a great burger that night!

And so I started my first real Vientiane experience.  I was only here for 4 hours last year while I got a train to Thailand.  This time I had to sort out my visa for Thailand.  As a British citizen I would have a 30 day pass into Thailand, but I want to stay here for quite a while, and go into Myanmar.  So I decided to get full visa with double entry. On the first morning I walked to the Thai Embassy, was redirected to the Thai Consulate, filled my forms in and waited to be processed.  At this point I realized that, despite my research, I needed Thai Baht to pay or my visa ans not US dollars which I had changed all my spare money into, so I got it all changed into Baht at a stupid rate.  Then I found out that I had to pay 1000B per entry. I did not have enough due to the 'exchange rate'.  Thankfully a Dutch guy lent me the money so I could pay and collect my passport the next day.  I never did get his name, but thanks!

My first tourist event was the COPE Centre.  Laos as a major issue with un-exploded ordinance (UXO) from the Vietnam War when USA bombed the country as possible route from Russia to Vietnam in an attempt to stop the flow of weapons to the North Vietnamese Army and the Viet Cong.  As a result Laos became the most heavily bombed country in history.  Amongst other weaponry, 240 million cluster bombs were dropped on the countryside.  The impact on the farming culture was devastating.  Unfortunately the effects are still being felt.  Cluster bombs have a 30% failure rate, so approximately 80 million remained on the ground following the war.  They are often activated by farming activity or by mistaken as toys by local children, resulting in serious injury and death.  Worse still are the mines and other ordinance that was dropped.  Scrap metal brings a healthy price, and often the danger is considered worth the risk.  COPE was created to assist families who have lost loved ones and people who have lost limbs.  They provide assistance, prosthetics and aid to the families in what is an ongoing problem.

The next day we were offered a fee 'Mystery Tour' to a waterfall by the hostel.  They wanted to see if it would work as a day trip in the future.  They were sure we would be back in time for buses that had been booked & for me to collect my passport.  This was not to be.  What was thought to be a 40 minute drive to the waterfall was 3 hours.  On the final drive through the forest the tuk tuk was unable to go up one of the hills with 15 people in the back (plus 2 in the front & 1 on the roof), slid back down the hill and reversed into a ditch.  It was not difficult to extricate the tuk tuk from the ditch, but we did have to walk up every hill from then on. But it was worth it.  The waterfall was beautiful and tranquil and we played in it for hours until hunger set in & we headed back (walking up the hills again) .

On the way back a couple of American girls, Whitney and Jessica, started talking about a burger they had eaten the previous night near the hostel.  Apparently it was the best burger ever.  The gauntlet had been laid down.  We had to test this burger.  Rather than head for the shower when we got back to the hostel, we piled out of the tuk tuk & went straight to Ray's Grill.  The bacon cheese burger did not disappoint.  Perfectly seasoned and moist it may well have been the best burger I have ever had (and the Philly Cheese Steak I had the next day was incredible!).  Whitney & Jessica got to live another day...

Which for me meant going to the consulate to get my passport back, while everyone else went to Vang Vieng - party central.  I took the opportunity to walk around Vientiane and just let myself be absorbed b it, something I did not have chance to do before.  It really is a nice city, complete with a fake Arc de Triomphe!  It has quite a European feel.  Wide boulevards and avenues mix with temples.in a pleasing way.  I am glad I got to see this city properly.

A quick bus journey the next morning got me to Vang Vieng.  I had only spent 1 day here before, and it did not end well.  Thats's all you need to know.  It is a backpackers haven.  Lots of cheap hostels, cheap bars showing endless repeats of Friends (although I did find one that showed South Park one night!), cheap drugs.  The main attraction is tubing - travelling down the river in an inner tube, stopping at the frequent bars to drink & party, before floating on again.  They had problems previously due to the number of bars - over 20 in a just  few miles.  Obviously alcohol and inner tubes doesn't mix well and there were many deaths.  Add into that rope swings and slides into waters to shallow and fast and something had to be done.  There are now 4 bars (if you count the last one, which most don't) and the tube has to be back at one of the 2 tubing centres by 6pm, when it gets dark, or you lose your deposit.  But it was not my intention to tube, but instead to see what else Vang Vieng had to offer.  From talking to Whitney & Jessica they were interested in climbing and so we had made a loose agreement to do a 3 day climbing course.  I just had o find them.

 I bumped into them straight off the bus while trying to find my hostel.  They had a tuk tuk for the day and we decided to check out the Blue Lagoon, a general chill out area a bit out of town based around a deep pool with a cave system nearby.  And here I found my greatest discovery - Cerin!  I had barely seen him since Hoi An and it was great to catch up.  We went into the caves and had a great time playing drums on the stalactites in the dark.  These were not the safest of caves - no walkways or ropes, just signs advising of deep death filled holes.  Health & safety clearly not a priority!  Cerin was actually leaving the next day, but at least we were on the same route.

Day 1 of climbing was easyish.  This was the first time I had climbed outside.  It is very different to an indoor wall.  Firstly, stone hurts more when you fall.  Secondly the holds are not colour coded.  You have to find the ones which feel best, which give the best platforms for the next move.  Also the holds are not nice and moulded - rough, sharp limestone cliffs welcomed us.  The morning was spent top-roping - straight climbing with someone holding the rope below (the belayer).  The afternoon stepped things up - we were lead roping.  Here you climb but take the rope with you.  You are only safe when you attach the rope to the clips on the wall.  Fall here and it's a 6 foot drop or more.

The worst is when you get to the top.  Despite the safety rope you clip yourself to the cliff with, it goes against all human nature to untie your rope at the top of a cliff.  Drop the rope and you're stuck.  But after 2 days of this it became normal.  We slowly got better.  But the fear never leaves you.  Even an experienced climber told me on the last day that he still had moments of doubt when he was climbing, just overthinking things and giving himself doubts.  He likened good climbing to Yoga.  You have to meditate on the wall and become calm.  I do understand this.  Only climbing can I truly empty my mind of all other things.  I just need to make the next step...

I was aware that I was quite verbal while climbing.  How bad this got became apparent on the second day.  We were joined by Kate, Maddy & Jenny.  Maddy later told me that my continuous expletives kept her calm as she felt that if someone more experienced was having trouble, then she was probably doing OK!

After 2 days of this we took a break.  Not sure what to do with myself I wandered into town for breakfast & ran into Kate.  The decision was made to go tubing with Maddy & Jenny. So we headed off to collect our tubes, jumped into a tuk tuk & went to the launch site. It was vastly different from last year.  Only 1 bar remained from the 4 which made up the first 100m.  There is no sign that the first 2 bars ever existed.  I didn't even get past the third bar before (now the first) but we gave it a miss altogether this time & ventured into new territory.  It is a very peaceful experience to float down a river in an inner tube in the sun, taking in the scenery and having a chat.

After about 10 minutes the second bar turned up.  A line is thrown out to haul  you into shore and the drinking commences.  We stayed a few hours enjoying the ambiance, playing volleyball and boules, and laughing at people who were taking there drinking much more seriously.  We made sure we left early enough to make it back to town while it was still light and proceeded to paddle furiously to make sure we did.  It was a relief when a face appeared above me to say I had made it, followed by a mad rush back to the tubing centre to get my deposit back!

After a nice, relaxing day, it was back to business.  Day 3 of the climbing course stepped things up - lead roping much harder climbs needing new skills to navigate the cliffs and a lesson in abseiling.  I had done this as part of the canyoning in Vietnam, but that was starting from the top of the cliff.  Here they taught us how to use your rope from lead climbing to abseil from the top of the climb.  Again, very nervy.  The teachers told us about a couple who were doing this in America - and dropped the rope.  They were stuck on the cliff for 3 hours until someone came down & could help them.  The possibility kind of stays in your mind while your trying to sort the ropes out, but feeling when you get it right and descend the cliff is fantastic!

And that was it for Vang Vieng.  The next morning I headed up to Luang Prabang with Maddy & Jenny.  I had had a lot of fun here last year and had pretty much done most of the things worth doing.  What I hadn't done was trek through the jungle and rice paddies to the Kuang Xi waterfalls.  And it wasn't this time either at $47 each!  So, after spending a well needed day off (travelling can be exhausting if you don't stop now and again!), I headed out to the waterfalls with Maddy, Whitney & Jessica (who had come up on a later bus) on mountain bikes.  I would prefer a proper off-road route, but a 72km round trip was exercise enough, with a couple of long hills that nearly had us walking. But the waterfall at the end is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen.

A 3-tier waterfall opens into a series of turquoise pools, the water cascading down.  The water was very cold, and full of little fish which like to nibble your feet (even mine...) and perfectly refreshing after the bike ride. Just the problem of the ride back...  Which I had to do sooner than wished as I was booked on to a cooking class with Ciren. After failing to do one in Vietnam I was determined to do one here, even if it meant going hell for leather in stupid temperatures. I only just made it, but it was worth the rush.  They actually allowed us to cook our food here, as opposed to the course in Phonm Pehn.  The dishes were a revelation.  I had not been to keen on Laos cuisine from last time but found it to be generally quite good when I had eaten it this time.  But these courses were something else.  The fish steamed in bamboo leaves was sensational, a bit like the Cambodian Amok but without the coconut milk. And the chicken stuffed in lemongrass was delicious and took some skill to get right.  Along with a starter and the obligatory sticky rice (Laos style) this was a great meal, but the courses own chefs had been working hard to create even more dishes - pumpkin salad and buffalo laap, a Laos specialty of minced buffalo, mint and basil and very tasty.  This made quite a feast for us all and set a very high standard for future classes!

We had a couple of options for how to get to our next stop - Chiang Mai, Thailand.  Either an 23 hour bus journey or a slow boat up the Mekong which would take us 2 & 1/2 days to arrive in Chiang Mai.  The choice was easy - scenery, relaxation and  new experience won out.  We had heard about this trip from people coming the other way. And we found there was a reason for this.  Going in our direction we were going against the current - resulting in a 9 hour boat journey each day.  But we got to sleep, read (a lot) and just enjoy the relaxed life.

Finding accommodation each night was a bit stressful as everyone goes in search of rooms at the same time and most places are full from people coming the other way from Thailand as those boats get in earlier and nowhere can be pre-booked.  The second night, at the border town of Huay Xai was particularly bad due to lack of rooms and also not knowing where we had to go the next day - the drop off point for the slow boat turned out to be a long way from the boat that would eventually take us over the river to Thailand the next morning, which itself we did not know where it was.  After inquiring at several guesthouses and with tempers fraying (not mine, actually) we finally found what could be classed as clean, serviceable accommodation.  For one night it was fine.  Especially when we found out the next morning that it was just around the corner from the Laos check out post & the cross border ferry...

But that's Thailand.  And therefore a different chapter.  Which I'm still living.  So you'll have to wait.  I'll give you a sneak preview though - I've not been doing much!

Party In Vietnam

Sitting in the room at Hanoi Backpackers I have a few hours before I depart to Laos to look back on the last four weeks.  It has most definitely not been what I expected, from the country to myself.

Becky & I left Kampot on an overnight bus to Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon, if you prefer, which I may as it's shorter) via Phnom Penh.  Generally uneventful until the most bizarre of border crossings.  Our passports were taken off us at Phnom Penh so that the exit stamps could be done, but we still had to get them back to go through Cambodian border control.  They were then collected again while we went through no-mans-land (all of 50m) to the Vietnam immigration control for stamping.  Which was done en masse.  And then the passports handed back out by the guards shouting our names out at which point we could then collect them.  This would be acceptable if we could hear and understand the guards pronunciations of our names and get through the throng of people from three buses. This took the best part of an hour.  Why we couldn't just queue like civilized people is beyond me...

The first thing I noticed about Saigon was the scooters and motorbikes.  They are everywhere.  There are 10 million people living in Saigon and there are 6 millions bikes.  And they seem to be on the road at the same time, all the time.  Having experienced Indian traffic I was not as overcome with fear as others we met, probably because the use of the horn is not as constant and 90% of the traffic is the same size.  Saying that, crossing the road is like playing real life Frogger.  You wait for a gap, step into the road and just keep going.  They will usually try to avoid you but a bit of dodging helps, especially as you can never quite tell what speed they're all going at.  As with India though, it's scary how quickly you find this to be completely normal behaviour for how to cross the road.

We quickly got in touch with Niall who had got here a couple of days earlier and after a long catch up headed off to the War Remnants Museum (formally the Exhibition House for Crimes of War and Aggression).  We got here a bit late for a full visit but went straight to the top floor where there is a photo exhibition of views from both sides by independent photo journalists.  They show not only actions carried out by both sides during the war, but also the after affects of Agent Orange on the innocent Vietnamese people and how the country has tried to rebuild itself.  While is was interesting to see the story of the war from the Vietnamese side, this was by no means unbiased and did not cover the treatment of the US soldiers by the Viet Cong.  Nor did it really cover the difficulties of the country by having a South Vietnam Army fighting alongside the US Army against North Vietnam and the Viet Cong.  I found the waste of human life, especially that of the innocent bystanders and of the photographers that lost their lives documenting such a pointless war, overwhelming.  I am also amazed that the French, who effectively started the whole thing by refusing to allow Vietnam independence and asking America for assistance, has got out of this unscathed.

I continued my history lesson the next day with a tour of the Cu Chi Village tunnels.  This is a complex of 200km of tunnels where the Viet Cong hid out of sight of the US Army that was practically on top of them.  It is 2 hours away from Saigon and the nearest US base was just a grenades throw away.  Our guide had been in the South Vietnam Army and admitted that it was difficult to fight against his countrymen and women (and in some cases children), a task made even more difficult as the VC did not have a uniform and could have been anyone (an issue which led to the US Army deciding that anyone could be VC and therefore open to interrogation, torture and murder).  The tour took us through part of the old tunnels (very small and dark - I didn't go in - one wrong turn and you may never be seen again), some of the booby traps made to defend the site from attack (very grizzly use of pits and rotating spikes) and a crawl through  revamped section of tunnel, which while wider than it was originally was still claustrophobic, hot and short of air.

Even given the measures taken to guard these tunnels, the entrances were often found and the US forces often had battles underground.  Bodies are apparently still being found when foundations are built for new houses.  What was most grizzly though was at the souvenir shop.  For sale were old bullet casings and worse - Zippo's left behind by the dead GI's and found in the tunnels still with regiment insignia but now with added 'Cu Chi Tunnel' logos.  Yours for just $4!

Evenings in Saigon were spent in the backpacker area, and generally at just a couple of local bars, sat on small plastic stools outside a shop drinking cheap beer (and even cheaper home brew) devouring whatever food was on the nearest stalls, generally meat skewers and Banh Mi - the Vietnamese delicacy of a bread roll filled with pate, sliced meat, salad and sauce.  Delicious.  It was also interesting to see how many people were doing the same route as us (south to north) and who we had met already in Cambodia, while getting tips off the people who were coming from the north.  My biggest shock was running into a South African guy I'd met in Beijing a month earlier!  The world gets ever smaller...

We finally left Saigon to go to Mui Ne, a coastal resort.  This was to be my first experience of a sleeper bus.  They are clearly made for locals as the beds are way to small.  t took 2 hours of a 5 hours of a 5 hour journey to find a comfortable position.  And we were travelling during the day so this wasn't even needed.

Mui Ne is a nice place, and I could have spent much more than the 2 nights we did, but we knew that we had to see all of the country and some highlights lay in store in the north.  We got to celebrate Becky's birthday with a trip to the sand dunes and an ostrich ride (not a natural animal to ride), finishing off at a Russian pool/techno party.

Then it was another 5 hour journey to Da Lat, the honeymoon centre of Vietnam.  I can understand why.  It is a very picturesque city in the mountains with some stunning scenery.  Apparently.  It was raining most of the time we were there, but thankfully dry for the time we spent canyoning.  This is an amazing sport - use any means necessary to get down a river, preferably one with waterfalls - abseiling, jumping, water slides, trek or just float.  I am not happy with water at the best of times, so abseiling down a waterfall before having to make a 5 metre drop into the pool did test me.  Not as much as slowly descending into the chute of a waterfall, being buffeted by the torrent before it sweeps you through its currents and spits you out the other side.  All I can say is that fears were faced that day and I want to do it again!

By this time our group was starting to swell with people going in the same direction, and by the time we made it to Nha Trang we were 8.  Nha Trang is the Russian Costa Brava.  Built up with hotels for the Russians to stay in, backpacker hotels and bars are kept at the other end of the city.  Russian influence can be seen in the island turned into a theme park by a Russian billionaire - Vinpearl Land!  Complete with the longest over-water cable car in the world being the only way to get there.  A day there was great fun though - they have a water park with everything you would expect, plus an arcade and fun fair.  The highlight was the railed toboggan run down the hillside.

As you would expect from this kind of resort, copious drinking is encouraged at in the evenings.  So we did, and with the bars always offering free shots, half price buckets of stupidly strong but actually quite nice cocktails, and any other offer they can think of to keep you at their place we started to hit a nice tempo for life in Vietnam.  And the best way to recover from the hangover you have the net day is a mud bath with a mineral spa and an afternoon lazing in a gloriously warm pool.

 Almost didn't want to leave, but after a couple of days were off up the road to Hoi An, this time a 14 hour overnight bus ride - the longest so far.  I had the top bunk in the middle aisle and barely got any sleep for fear of falling out onto the unsuspecting people who the bus driver had crammed into the walkways below.

It was strange to arrive in Hoi An at 8:30am with the hole day ahead of us.  Arrival was normally late afternoon at the earliest and just time to have dinner and hit the bar.  But an early arrival gave time for sightseeing and in Hoi An that mianly means getting a suit made.  I didn't as am traveling for a year and needed the money in the bank, and I did not see it likely I would need a 3-piece suit on the road, but looking at some of the guys suits, in any style they liked, any material inside and out I was a bit jealous.  The tailors in Hoi An can replicate anything - form suits and dresses to trainers and shoes.  Just point at what you want in a catalogue, ad your own embellishments and 24 hours later you will have 3 suits for about $300.  I, on the otherhand, got to chill out in a much calmer city, cycle out to the beach and mentally prepare for what was about to happen.

On arriving in Hoi An we found that a lot of people had got there a day before us and met up with others they had met previously.  So this is how our merry band became 19 - me, Becky, Emily, Natalie, Michele, Adrian, Sam (who had all done the canyoning), Niall, Orlagh, Grace, Rachel, Karl, Dave, Gary, Harrison, Sosa, Danielle, Ryan & George.  And just in time for Niall's birthday.  And what did Niall want to do?  Hire scooters and ride the 132km along the coast to Hue through some outstanding scenery.  There were 2 issues for a few of us - we had never ridden a scooter (I don't even drive), so a hasty 1 hour lesson was provided to see if we would be capable.  Some decided to get a local to ride with them as passenger, and Becky and I decided to share a rider so we could both get some time in charge. The second issue was slightly bigger - Typhoon Nari was heading towards the Vietnam coast and was due to make landfall in Hue just as we were expected to get there.  A nervous night lay ahead as we decided whether we would go ahead with this at all, a decision made more difficult when we woke to the early signs of a tropical storm.  But a couple of hours later the sun was coming out and the wind had died down, so Team Nari hit the road.  And it wasn't long until the cross winds started to pick up & the tropical storm started again.  I was happy on the scooter, but the technical issue of my helmet flying backwards forced me to swap with Becky.  Even after getting it fixed Becky stayed on the scooter, a decision which may not have been the best when she got lost in Da Nang.  She kept her head though, found a hotel to call our hostel in Hoi An to get the guides to go and find her.  Sam, however, did not have this idea when he also got lost.  With no call to the guides we had no option other than to ride on into the storm.  On the Hai Van Pass I swapped with Karl who was not comfortable riding in these conditions (a first timer like myself) and so I rode up the pass in convoy in reducing visibilty, having to overtake a tanker when I could only just see the other end of it & only knowing that there were no lights coming towards me.  We made it to the top of the pass, visibility about 20 feet, and had a quick stop.  I thought we would stop until the cloud had cleared but as we had to make it to Hue before the full typhoon hit we only had a short stop - long enough though to see Sam ride through the cloud to rejoin us in a moment of triumph - it would seem that nothing would stop us getting to Hue in one piece.

The descent was precarious with still limited visibility and the rain lashing down like needles in the face.  Even with glasses on I could barely see the bike ahead, let alone the road.  And then, with about 60km to go, having made it through the worst of the ride, if not yet the weather, the inevitable happened.  Baring in mind that Vietnamese drivers only think bout themselves when their driving, I was faced with a 4x4 overtaking a tanker, fully on my side of the road.  I had riders to my right so could not move back into line, my only course of action to slow as much as possible and aim for the gap between the car and my friends.  An emergency stop was still needed.  I missed the car but the back end fishtailed and went over.  I took the full brunt of the impact of the handlebars in my stomach but somehow managed to roll clear with just a couple of knocks to my knees.  My stomach felt like I'd been stabbed but I daren't look to see what had happened.  The looks of my friends said it wasn't pretty but no visible cuts.  As I had nothing broken we had no option but to continue - we had to make it to Hue.  My scooter wasn't going anywhere though, with the wheel rubbing on something, so I went on the back of Harrison's scooter for the rest of the ride.  And it was scary, with buses and lorrys speeding past trying to get home safe themselves.  I was kind of glad I wasn't riding myself t this time, but not being in control is kind of worse.  But the shouts of joy and relief when we finally made it through the streets of Hue to the hostel brought home to each and everyone one of us the magnitude of what we had accomplished as a team, of what we had gone through together.  The drinking session that went on into the early hours, with the typhoon blowing safely outside, was one of deep friendships being forged.

When we did wake the next day it appeared that I had a large bulge in my abdomen.  Michele, a nurse, calmed me and said it was just swelling and it would go down .  This did help my nerve a lot, but when I finally got to a hospital in Hanoi over a week later (I had some partying to do - don't judge me!) it was confirmed that I had a haemetoma which would take around 2 months to go.  It could have been a lot worse though.  This was nothing, however, compared to the devastation that Hue had suffered - trees were down and the river had flooded its banks.  In this state there was nothing to keep us here as anywhere worth seeing was closed, so all 19 of were out on the next overnight bus to Hanoi and closing in on the end of our journey together.

Hanoi, or at least the old French quarter we spent most of our time in, was not as heavy with traffic, but as the roads were narrower and the pavements were full of parked mopeds you had to walk in the street, where the rest of the mopeds were, and which drove wherever they felt like it.  Alongside the colonial French architecture, tree lined roads, food stalls and colourful shops selling almost anything including bamboo for every conceivable need, I found this a very interesting place to walk around and get lost in.  Some of the street food was fantastic  - in particular Nom Du Du, a green papaya salad with beef and peanuts (I think part 2 of the Asian Kitchen will have to be done soon!).

It was decided to spend our last days as Team Nari in Ha Long Bay.  We managed to hire a boat for just ourselves including an overnight stay on an island and another on the boat.  Our first day was raining so we could not grasp the full impact of what lay around us.  We could see the cliffs of the closest islands looming above us as we sailed past, and the shapes of others as they appeared out of the mists, but we got to see all the beauty when we awoke on the island the next day.  The water was calm, as the islands tend to create their own harbours in a way, so we went kayaking in the sea, exploring other beaches and caves.  But only now could we start to see many of the 1969 islands that make up Ha Long bay.

It really is as if you had found a totally different planet,  an unexplored world.  Every time the boat sailed past an island a whole new and amazing vista would present itself.  That night on the boat was to be the last we would all spend together, and needless to say it was absolute carnage.

Farewells were made on our return to Hanoi as people started going their own way, following their own journeys.  For Becky and I it was not yet over, and we headed to Sapa with Emily.  Sapa is a mountain town and reminded me lot of an Alpine town.  Alas, we had rain and mist again so could not enjoy the full scale of the views over the rice paddy terraces (one of things that stopped it feeling too Alpine...) but this did not stop us enjoying a few days trekking through the muddy countryside.

What did. for me anyway, was the local women who tagged along as some sort of guide, helping people when the route was steep and slippy.  While they were being helpful, they also did  great job of getting in the way.  Our guide would allow the women on the first day to join us as they were from his village and as we were expected to buy trinkets as a thank you this meant money was going into his village.  Any other women who tried to help would be shooed away.  But the overiding feeling I had was that the trekking business had changed the villages we wanted to see into something else.  Yes, we got to see local houses with little yards of animals and crops growing, and water buffalo meandering in the rice paddies, but at the same time the houses would be staged, and many were just souvenir shops selling the local crafts.  I understand that the only income these local tribes get is from their rice crop and the sale of local arts and crafts is a necessity, when every other house is a shop it starts to ruin the experience.

The homestay we stayed at for one night was not a real homestay experience but a low grade 14 bed dorm with matresses on a mezzanine level above the main family room.  We did not eat with the family, sleep with the family or have any major interaction beyond paying for a beer from the fridge.  The worst case was one the last day when we had a hike (it barely deserves that name, it most definitely was not a trek) to Cat Cat Village.  While this may once have been a proper tribal village, it appears to have been taken over by tourism - the paths are fully paved unlike anywhere else, the souvenir shops are continuous, all the way down to the little theatre where local youths presented traditional song and dance which seemed for the benefit of the Chinese tourists who rarely want the full experience, even in their own country.

And then that was that.  Becky departed to the Philippines and our travels of 5 weeks were at an end.  The farewell was brief and without tears.  We had intended to travel Vietnam together and we had.  It had been the most wonderful time, at times the most insane.  It had not been what we had expected, but then when do you expect to be travelling as a group of 19?  I had intended to do a cooking course along the way, but got caught up in the group mentality of doing everything together.  Do I regret missing out on not doing other things?  On not seeing the Marble Mountains?  The Phong Nha Caves?  Maybe...  But at the same time I had experiences which I would never have dreamed of considering had I not been with this group of people, and they are the times I will treasure forever.  Sometimes being in a group that large did get to me, to everyone I think, but then we would splinter and spend a day as a smaller group.  You can't make everyone happy, but as long as you are happy in what you have done and in your own choices you can't ask for anything else.

Holiday In Cambodia

I find it weird to realise that I have been on the road for over three months.  That's a quarter of my intended trip. It already feels like I don't have enough time left and so much that I would like to do in that time, but it's still a long time before I have to think about what I want to do with the next stage of my life.  For now I can just enjoy the ride.  And that's pretty much what it feels like I'm on at the moment.

After leaving China I had my usual re-grouping in Hong Kong & considered my next move.  This time I was to start the real travelling in South East Asia.  I had originally thought about heading straight to Bangkok on the usual route and do Thailand first as I want to go to a festival there in November.  However, I had forgotten about October so found I had a bit more time than I had thought.  So I bought a last minute flight to Phonm Penh, Cambodia.

I had been to Phonm Penh last year and done the main attractions, the Killing Fields and the S21 Genocide Museum, so I was able to to spend more time exploring the city and trying out new things.  Which is good as those sites, which while culturally important to see, are not exactly the most uplifting of experiences and are emotionally draining.  So instead I got to walk around the city, soak in the atmosphere, find interesting places to eat, and just enjoy myself.

I had decided to stay in dorm rooms so as to meet people quickly, and found this was amazingly easy at Mad Monkey.  In fact, I was greeted by a full dorm so got into the swing of things straight away and along with their bar found new friendships in no short supply.  But as most people were here for the first time and would be going to the Killing Field I still had most of the days to myself.

I had not really seen the city last time and what appeared to be very bleak was in fact very colourful and vibrant.  Cambodian people are very friendly, although the ubiquitous tuk-tuk and moto drivers can be overly pushy.  How on earth they think that someone who doesn't need a ride is clearly looking for drugs and is not just having a peaceful walk is beyond me.

My favourite of the days was spent on a cooking class.  I love Asian food.  Cambodian is a lot like Thai but less spicy, letting the flavours do the talking.  I did a full day course (actually 9-3) which included a trip to the market to see the raw ingredients we would be using and immerse ourselves in the cuisine, followed by a lesson preparing and cooking four dishes - spring rolls, fish amok, banana blossom & chicken salad, and sticky mango rice.

It was a very varied group of 14, which meant that we all got to assist in making the sauces we would be using. The food was amazing, but it was very difficult to go wrong.  My only criticism would be that we didn't really do much cooking.  All the cooking required things to be one en masse, such as the rice, steaming the amok, deep frying the spring rolls, or was decided that it could go badly wrong, as with making caramel.  I would like to do courses in other countries and will be looking out for ones which are a bit more hands on.

The best part of the time here, and what made it most like a holiday, was the people I met, in particular Rory and Becky.  I met Rory at the hostel bar after I had just said farewell to another friend.  He wasn't actually staying there but we got on great.  He was one for doing his own thing and had befriended a tuk-tuk driver and arranged to go to the Muay Thai boxing one night, so a coule of us went along.  Not knowing what to expect, possibly a fight in the back room of a bar, we found ourselves in an arena full of locals watching amateur and professional fights, drinking cheap beer with our driver.  I am not a great fan of boxing, but to be in there watching the fights, and watching an enthusiastic crowd, was a highlight of that city.  And to top it off our driver then took us to his mates shop where we sat outside on small plastic chairs drinking beer with his friends and eating the food his wife cooked for us  It was not an experience I imagined myself having, but was really glad I did.  A bit less certain when we remembered we still had to be driven home...

I was heading to Sihanoukville on morning and was getting breakfast before my bus picked me up when we found we were doing the same route so agreed to meet a couple of days later.  This was a decision which got me through the first evening in Sinahoukville.

I had a frosty reception in the dorm at Led Zephyr and the bar was pretty empty except for a group who were heading out the next day and not very approachable.  I was tired from late nights in Phonm Penh and just wanted to crash, but sat in that bar was one of the loneliest moments I had had so far.  Add to that that the first conversation I heard was about thefts from the dorm room lockers that left even the staff baffled as to how it happened (how do you get into the lockers without removing the locks?) and I really did wonder what I was doing there.

Thankfully this only lasted one night.  Rory came down to join me the next day and some more friendly faces were found in the dorm, including Niall, so it was a decent group who partied into the early hours.  Just a word of caution though - if you're ever thinking of playing in the sea at 2:30am in the middle of a storm, take your iPod out of your pocket...

The next day we just needed to relax, so to the beach we went.  This was not a relaxing experience.  Small children constantly hassle you to buy sunglasses and bracelets, woman trying to give you a massage or sell you food (actually, this wasn't too bad - 10 squid for $3 grilled in front of you).  As soon as you got rid of one bunch, another wave would come long.  So the rain was a bit of a blessing when it came.  Here we met Ayelet, John and Robbie, who had met Niall earlier in Siem Reap.  With the arrival of Becky that evening we were now seven.  And this is where I start to get swept into an adventure I had not planned to have.  I have no recollection of who first mentioned going to Koh Rong, but in the early hours and being very impressionable Becky and I decided not to get the bus to Kampot in the morning but instead agreed to get the ferry to a paradise island instead.  The best decision ever.

Our numbers swelled to eight on the voyage with the addition of Hayley, and together we partied, played with plankton, partied, chilled on the beach, partied and philosophised.  Long lasting friendships were made on that island.  It was the perfect place for this group.  It is effectively a backpacker community based around some hostels and bungalows and bars right next to the beach.  There are other activities to do but we had precious little time.  We bonded in a trek through the jungle to a remote beach, and found our group paradise on another secluded beach with calm water where we cold enjoy each others company for our few remaining hours together.

Becky & I were the first to leave, with Ayelet, as we were headed to Kampot (finally...) together and the group slowly parted.  Niall was to join us in Vietnam in a few days, and a few others had decided to head north together, so bonds had been made.  I never did get to say goodbye to Rory that day, which is probably just as well as I don't think I would have handled it well, but in my mind those days had been made possible by our chance meeting and his enthusiasm to jump into anything has rubbed off on me.

Kampot was a big change.  Technically a city, it is very small and can be navigated on foot by knowing which roundabout you are at (Durian roundbout, Year 2000 roundabout or Salt-Miners roundabout - each with its own sculpture).  We stayed at the fantastic Magic Sponge with its $3 a night open air penthouse dorm, 9 hole mini golf course and seven hours of happy hours!  So after a few G&T's and a quick round of golf, we headed out with some Aussie girls to another hostel for some live music.  This was an eventful evening, most notable for walking back to our hostel very late with no street lighting and dogs coming out of the dark trying to attack us.  Only our best dog impressions (well, Becky's...) kept us unmolested.

We managed to get onto a tour to Bokor mountain one day, the site of an old French colony township which is suffering from neglect following the war with Vietnam and subsequent power struggles.  It is now owned  by a Russian company who aim to turn the entire area into a new city with hotels and casinos.

It is running massively over budget, doubtless due to the highly corrupt Cambodian government.  They have started work, with some roads under construction and foundations being prepared for a huge hotel, but some buildings that were previously built look really dated.  They have a model of the proposed city and it looks horrific, a needless destruction of what was a stunning national park with now very little wildlife.

And that was that.  The next day we left for Vietnam.  I had wanted to travel with someone into this country and had found a great friend in Becky.  Little did we realise what the next few weeks would have in store for us...