Flashpackers

The Birthday Surprise

2007-07-01T22:34:00.000+09:30

Tim and I had been discussing the possibility of going to San Sebastian, the foodie heaven located in Northern Spain, ever since we saw the photos from Hassan (when we were in Mumbai).

So try to imagine my utter delight when Tim surprised me with a pre-organised holiday there for my birthday in January!!
He had even booked in holiday time with work with one of my managers (whom he had met at a pub 2 months prior), so on the Friday morning he serenades me with the line:
"Trace, you're not going into work today... cos we're going on holiday to San Sebastian for 4 days! Happy Birthday!" Music to my ears. :)
Even better news, was that we would be there for the annual San Sebastian Day festival! We couldn't wait.

Donostia-San Sebastian is in the middle of Basque country and is the Summer capital of Spain. Unfortunately, being January, it was freezing. We actually saw snow as we were leaving but I digress.
It's not the easiest town to reach... but Tim had organised flights to Biarritz, cab to Hendaye where we crossed into Spain to catch a train to San Sebastian. So by the time we arrived at our flash hotel, that comfy bed was very tempting... luckily we ventured out into the night.
The city's festival is the patron saint's day featuring parades and is on the 19th of January every year. The proceedings last for a full 24 hours, starting at midnight in the town square until midnight the following night. Very rarely does the festival fall on a Friday... but in 2007 it did. The whole town took advantage of that - and the Spanish know how to party!

As if the festival wasn't exciting enough, Tim and I had never been to Spain before and so had not had the chance to experience tapas. The Spanish ideal is to have a glass of wine or a small beer along with one tapas morsel in an establishment before heading off to the next place. You pay at the end for what you take, and each tapas costs between 1 to 5 Euro. Indecently cheap for what you get. We were absolutely in heaven!

Blissed out in a tapas bar.

Eating my nemesis... the sea urchin. Mmwa-ha-ha!!
Victory is mine ya little bastard!

Vino tinto & tapas porfavour!

Bread, roast red pepper, quails eggs and local jammon... marvellous!

The near deserted San Sebastian square at about 10pm on Friday night...
apparently it was once used as a bull ring.

Plate upon plate of glorious tapas... yes, those are piles of morrells
with two truffles the size of your fist resting on top.

The rammed square at midnight.

Time to get out of here!

The chefs drum on their whisky kegs...

They parade around the old quarter with
a followed by a full marching band.

This lovely old man was collecting kisses and handing out shots
of his whisky. I obviously don't need any more.

Tim in his element.

The San Sebastian coat of arms: a fork and spoon. Love it.

The Basilica of Santa Maria del Coro is dedicated to San Sebastian's
patron saint, and where the soldiers performed their routine.

These kind old men made a young pissed lady very happy, just by
giving her their festival hat. Bless. I'm so touched in this photo!

The next day we were extremely hung over but we just couldn't stay inside all day... the festival was still on! So we went back to the scene of the crime in the hunt for a cooked breakfast, and discovered that there were more parades with loud drums and trumpets. Perfect remedy for a hang over, I can tell you!

The best hangover photo ever taken. I remember feeling like seven
shades of shite at the exact moment this photo was taken.

Cooked breakie San Sebastian style: eggs, jammon ham & chips.

After breakfast and a bit more of a wander around town, we felt sufficiently better so we thought we should probably get back into the spirit of things and so headed to... an internet shop. Tim printed off some top tapas bar tips from a website he had been researching (www.todopintxos.com), and armed with where to go for the gourmet shit, we headed off into the night.

A typical tapas bar will have the ageing hams hanging from the ceiling.

This dish cost 3 euros. It's foie gras with apple jelly and it was
am-az-ing. Just amazing. Three euros!

This is the most tender and delicious stuffed squid with a tomato chutney
and it only cost 2.50 euros!

Crab pate in a pastry shell.

The hangover long forgotten, we're really having a lot of fun. :)

Anchovies marinated in garlic and oil... yum!

By the time my birthday actually rolled around, we had been living it up for two nights straight but of course, that was no reason to slow us down! So for lunch, we headed to another tapas bar and got to know the locals. :)

This tapas bar wasn't in any guides but it had a really nice vibe...

... and fabulous ham!

Happy Birthday to me!

We chatted with these two guys in broken Spanglish for hours, they
were great fun, and the guy in the grey top made a mean bloody mary.

Another amazing birthday - thank you Tim! :)

Slackpackers

2007-04-22T21:39:00.000+09:30

Well, its been a long time since we posted, so its about time I offered a catch up. We have been living in London now for just over 9 months, and we are loving it.

Well, mostly anyway.

We have been more like Slackpackers when it comes to updating this blog, so its time to post some more.........

Back to the Future

2006-09-25T00:39:00.000+09:30

Back to the future is what it felt like, landing in London.

Things working.... Electricity that is on for more than half the day.... No donkeys, cows, or other random animals.

We had a lot of great experiences in India, but I'm sad (I think) to say that one of the best of them was leaving the place... From my perspective at least.

Even leaving India is a difficult process. The main airport in Delhi doesn't have a massive volume of traffic, but none the less, it cant handle it, and has to run flights at all times of the day and night.
our flight was leaving at 6am.
not so bad I hear you say, but India being India you have to be at the airport 3 hours before your flight is leaving. And it takes an hour to get there from new Delhi.
2am. Not much point sleeping then.
we decided the best option was to just sit in a bar and drink the night away.

this resulted in two things, drunkenness (well... duhhh), and total honesty with the locals.

Now, I know I bitch lyrical about India on this blog, but understand, Indians are fiercely proud of their country and their culture, so we generally avoided telling the locals of our gripes, mostly anyway. The thing is that you get asked about your opinions on India a lot, the locals will stop you and ask you what you think of their country, with beaming expectant smiles on their faces. Its hard to let them down really.

so when a young Indian came and sat at our table (to chat up Traci), he coped it.
there was way to much conversation to go into, but here's a brief snippet.
"so how do you like my country"
"I don't, its a shit hole, well.... More of a shit pile really"
"so why did you come to India"
"no idea, I must have banged my head or something"
to Traci:
"so, what do you think of Indian men"
"I think Indian men show themselves for what they really are"
"yeah? What's that?"
"Arseholes. I hate them, they're pigs"

the funny thing is that he still thought he had a chance with Traci.
his honest belief was that white women were slags, and they all love Indian men - of course, that must be the reason that they come here - to have sex with Indian men.

So anyway, getting on that plane was a real relief. Even if it was disrupted by the terrorism scare in England.
even if we had to wait in the plane for an hour after landing.
none of this could matter. We weren't in India any more.
one positive thing I can say is that I am now a much more patient man.

We spoke to my Mum (Hi Mum :) ), and asked her to bring a salad to the airport for us, sounds weird but we wanted, no needed, one. Indians don't eat fresh things, and in our three months there neither had we.

lettuce has never tasted so good.

Yes Miss Moneypenny

2006-08-03T21:17:00.000+09:30

Or, rather, No Miss Moneypenny.

Udaipur, the setting for some of the Octopussy film, sucks.

Honestly, I cant even be arsed to bag it. It's too much hass.

So please just take the usual tirade and insert it here.

Anyway, at the time of writing, we are actually in London. We have been really slack with posting, which is partially due to us being over traveling - and especially over India.

So I will bring you up to date.

Jodhpur, the Blue City

2006-08-03T21:11:00.000+09:30

(check this post later for some added photos!)

Jodhpur is more what I expected India to be like: snaking alley ways, old mud brick houses painted various shades of blue or white, and of course, the ubiquitous cow wandering around eating cardboard.

We ended up spending about 4 days there in which we managed to pack in lots of nothing, and going to the fort. The fort is this massive, rambling creation set on top of the hill (as forts are), and was great fun to explore.. just not in the heat of the day! The fort also has a brilliant audio tour, complete with pompous Englishman narrator, which points out interesting features along a set path including the museum.

Generally, we were pretty disappointed with the food at most places we ate at in Jodhpur, however we did find a guest house/restaurant called Amar Niwas that was homely and acceptable. That sounds harsh doesn't it? We're getting tired of sauces on everything, so it's difficult to impress the flashpackers at the moment.
Give me a fresh salad that doesn't just consist of tomato/onion/capsicum, and I'll inhale it quicker than you can say, "do you want balsamic dressing with that?". Having said that, they did make us a superb goat curry that melted in our mouths (the little bugger was killed that morning for us), and their version of palak paneer (spinach and Indians' version of cheese) actually had discernible pieces of spinach in there, rather than the pureed green goop one usually gets served in restaurants.

The city really was a joy to walk around, we found the people to be really friendly - especially the kids. I think their English teacher at school must encourage them to go up to westeners and practice, because we found ourselves constantly talking to excitable kids about where we come from, what our names are, what our houses are made from, and do we have any pens/chocolates/rupees for them.

On The Up Side

2006-08-03T20:52:00.000+09:30

I feel that I should retract at least some of that last post. We have now traveled to Rajasthan, and we are both loving it. It can still be dirty and smelly, but it is so much better than Delhi.
And that, I guess, is the point. All of the things I said are 1000% accurate when talking about Delhi. It is the festering boil in the armpit of the Universe, but that doesn't necessarily apply to the rest of India.

The Bowel Movements Conversation

2006-07-28T17:31:00.000+09:30

Honestly, I'm getting pretty sick of India. It seems, a lot of the people I meet here feel the same - apart from all the hippy nuts and berries religion tourists that is.
Seriously, what is up with these people?
They come from all over the affluent parts of the globe, Europe, Australia, the US or wherever, and their itinerary will always include 'finding' themselves.
At home they wander around in suits, or jeans, or skirts, or what ever happens to be 'in'. At home they probably have no real interest in religion - Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism or any other ism you care to mention, but drop them in India and everything changes.

They do things like locking themselves in yogic retreats for 11 day stretches, places where you are not allowed to speak, listen to music, smoke, drink anything but water, or eat anything but dahl, rice and curd. They live in Ashrams for a week or two, a kind of one stop spiritual enema shop. They buy crystals, man. They wear Indian sadu clothing, or maybe novice monk robes. They may even shave their head.

They spout such bollocks as:
"Yeah man, its so spiritual, you know, you really get to know yourself. My chakras are glowing man, can you feel the energy? No? Hold this crystal, it will channel the energy to you man."
FlashPacker Translation:
"I paid a fortune to do something I could have easily done at home. In fact I could have done it anywhere! No special equipment required, all I have to do is do the world a favour and shut the f%$k up for 11 days and sit on my arse. I really am a dumb wanker, please kick me repeatedly in the head"

And:
"Yeah man, I'm so centered now. I've dealt with all this stuff. Thing is I didn't even know that it was bothering me until I went, but now man, I'm just so centered"
FlashPacker Translation:
"I got stung by a business baba, a money guru, a rupee sadu. He drew me in with a line like, 'I can feel from your aura that you have had a lot of hardship in your past, let me help you heal yourself. I feel that maybe you have had some unhappiness in your family'. Of course I've had hardships in your past - everyone has, but at least I don't have the hardship of carrying a heavy wallet around with me now."

And my favourite (this only comes from the females):
"Like wow, like, you know, my guru says that I am really in touch with my self. He says, like, I'm already a level 3, which is like amazing, because, like all the men starting were only level 1. He says that with a little personal tuition I could reach a level 4, or maybe even a level 5! He says that the quickest path to enlightenment is via tantra. We start a week long intensive tantra course tomorrow"
FlashPacker Translation:
"My guru says that he really wants to touch me, and I'm so vacuous that I buy into all his crap. This is what is known as being Royally F$#ked, as not only with I leave with a much lighter wallet, buy I might even get a few freebies. I hear that Ghonorea and Warts are on special this month. I might even win the grand prize - A Brand New Baby."

I say to you all: if you like it so much, why don't you give up your previous nationality? Marry an Indian? Stay forever?....... What's that? Oh, you'd miss your Playstation too much? Oh what a shame. You never know though, maybe Sony will release a "Yogic retreat: the mega crystal tantra odyssey" game, then you'll be set.

No please, I'm serious, stay forever. We don't want you and your patchuli stench around us.

And for anyone who hasn't been to India, I'm dead serious. People like this really do exist. They exist in droves.

Anyway, back to the title of this post. The Bowl Movements Conversation. Whenever travelers meet in India they inevitably get round to this conversation sooner or later: "Have you been sick much?" or something similar. This is because pretty much everyone gets sick at some point, or more likely at multiple points (unless of course, you're hippy nuts and berries patuli wearing chakra kid - then your crystal will protect you, and if you do get the squirts, this is just your crystal expunging your bad energy).
Why do all the travelers always get sick in India?
Well in a word, its because India is filthy, and understand me here, I don't mean just your run of the mill filthy, I mean FILTHY. There is more concentrated filth here than in New Scotland Yard. I honestly think it is the most filthy place in the world, if not the entire universe.
I saw a bin here the other day. I almost had a heart attack. It was empty though. I think the locals must have thought it was some wired new fangled art installation or something.
If you catch a train anywhere, you will notice that there aren't many bins on board. Indians prefer to just throw all their rubbish out of the window. The few bins that exist (one per carriage), are bottomless! The bottom of the bin is open. You put rubbish in the top, and it pushes the rubbish out of the bottom and onto the tracks.
The toilets on the train are pretty much the same as the bins. Straight onto the tracks. Amusingly, there is a sign in the toilet reading "Please try to not use at stations". Not "Do not, under any circumstances, use at stations". But then again why should it. It is perfectly acceptable to just drop your pants and take a crap pretty much anywhere you feel like here.

this is why people get sick when they visit India. You are touching, inhaling and ingesting concentrated human filth every second of the day, so if you do come, make sure you bring some crystals with you.

Sikh and Ye Shall Find

2006-07-20T17:49:00.000+09:30

Or: How Traci came to inflict her singing on and old Indian man, whilst on a crowded bus from Pathankot to Amritsar.
(Answer: he asked me)

Who could refuse a request from such a sweet old man with smiling eyes to "sing a song from your country"? I succumbed to the moment, and agreed to do something that would usually send me quivering into a corner with fear and shame.
The first song that came to my cowards' mind was the Australian national anthem (at least I knew the words), but when I started to sing, he stopped me abruptly by saying, "No, no... something with a tune. Sing something with a tune."
Embarrassed, I said to him that actually there is a tune to the national anthem, it's just that I have a terrible voice. Those of you who have been inflicted with my singing will know this to be true. But, he just smiled encouragingly at me, and waited, presumably thinking that I actually had it in me to sing some kind of aria that would invoke the beauty of my country and tell a story of it's victories and hardships in a range of melodic tones.
Unfortunately, the only other song that came to mind was Rolf Harris', 'Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport' which I lamely sang two lines of. This of course convinced the old man that in fact I was tone deaf, and he didn't burden either of us again by asking me to sing another one.

It was a combination of having sat on buses for about 8 hours that day, and the hoard of rickshaw wallahs frothing at the mouth at the site of fresh blood, that made me want to walk the 2 ks to our hotel from the bus station.
Hotel Grace is recommended by the LP guide, and it's very close to the sole attraction of Amritsar, the Golden Temple, so we decided to hole up there. Hole being the appropriate word.
Our attached shower literally sent out three individual and ineffectual pin pricks of water when turned on at full bore, and there was also a disconcerting hole in one of the walls (facing the car park) that had been covered by a sheet of red felt into which someone had kindly poked some holes. Other than that, it was actually a very spacious room and it did have a TV, a large double bed and a working western style toilet. It would do for a couple of nights.

Next morning I was woken up to the sound of pigeons cooing on our window ledge, which has never happened to me before, and I'm sure I'll always associate it with Amritsar. More importantly however, today was the day when we would visit the Golden Temple, the most holiest of Sikh temples.

The Golden Temple.

Before entering the huge complex (which is surrounded by a high white marble wall and, oddly, looks more like a shopping complex with it's many permanent stalls than a holy site), you must take of your shoes and wash your feet and hands and cover your head. The Sikhs were prostrating at the temple entrance, and it was difficult not to be humbled by the sight of it all.

The Golden Temple is not only surrounded by high marble walls, but it's set in the middle of an immense square lake which you walk around in a clockwise direction to reach the temples' entrance. At the opposite end of the lake to the temple, we watch hundreds of people bathing in the holy waters, and as we continued walking around, we saw many more hundreds of people either praying or meditating in this peaceful environment. There was also a constant sound of Sikh Sufi music that emanated from a microphoned quintet inside the temple itself. It created a beautiful atmosphere for prayer or just to admire the amazing temple.

The Golden Temple situated on the man made lake and surrounded by high marble walls.

Despite this beautiful temple being the focus of prayer and beauty, we had no fewer than five photos taken of us in as many minutes, by some men who were presumably Hindus. I allowed four photos, until I realised that they were all taking turns to have their photo taken while standing next to me (so they can pretend that I was their girlfriend and brag about it to their mates later), so only Tim appeared in the last photo. Could they have picked a more inappropriate place to act like such disrespectful, immature wankers??

Anyway, once we finally reached the temple walkway (it's a looong walk around the lake), we joined the throng of people in reasonably orderly queues to wait for our turn to enter the Golden temple. The walkway was covered by a long marquee, and had several fans cooling us from above. To my eyes, it looked very much like an expensive and beautiful wedding marquee.
Once we finally reached the temple, we couldn't help but be awestruck by the lavish interior complete with a massive crystal chandelier. There was a fenced off section on the ground level where the Sufi band was playing, and where another Sikh man accepting the gifts from the never ending succession of worshipers.

The covered entrance to the Golden Temple.

We walked through the temple and up to the first floor and then we walked around the temple (in a clockwise directions of course). At the back of the temple, we paused at a sign that said, "please take a step back to drink the holy water". I was initially puzzled by the sign, until I saw all the people kneeling down to drink the water from the lake - the sign was merely asking them to make room for others whilst they drink the brown water. This is the same holy water that the people had been bathing in on the opposite side of the lake.
It's official then: cleanliness really isn't next to godliness.

Every Cloud has a Silver Lining

2006-07-14T17:27:00.000+09:30

After our Spitian trip, we felt we deserved to relax for a week or so. In this time we literally did nothing apart from play cards and eat lots of "western" food.

Eventually, we summoned the energy, and the will, to pry our bums off of the comfortable floor seating in our Old Manali guest house (and away from the ever cool-under-pressure, Pratha) and head to McCleod Ganj for a change of scenery.

This is highly ironic, as we really just moved from one lazy environment to a very similar one in Bhagsu (near McCleod Ganj). Our guest house restaurant even has floor cushions and a similarly helpful and friendly waiter as the one at Veer guest house in Manali. This one is a Pratha reincarnate called Ravi.

Days flew past. Did I mention that there's also an internet cafe AND a shop stocking all manner of goodies on site?

Then, out of the drizzly skies came salvation: a silversmith course! And it too is in the same complex as our guest house!

However, what started as a worthy distraction for a minimum of three days became a test of ones' spirit and determination, as the ability to file a precious metal and be able to tell the difference between 70, 90 and 96% silver became important.
We persisted, and have come up trumps with some lovely rings and a silver bangle for our trouble. Ben and Ellie got well stuck into it, and even went so far as to buy lots of different semi-precious stones to incorporate into their pieces.

Here are some action shots of the class:

Tim squished behind one of the working tables.

Completely absorbed in filing a ring.

Ben getting frustrated in the corner.

Our guru, Ravi, who has the patience of a saint and fixes your mistakes, but only once you've
adequately proved (i.e. after the third attempt) that you're really really bad at it.

The Amazing Spiti Valley Jeep Trip

2006-06-28T17:10:00.000+09:30

Who could resist? Six days of being driven through the beautiful Spiti valley by a very consciencious driver, getting taken to interesting buddhist monasteries and gompas along the way, and maybe the most important thing, getting out of Manali...

Possibly the best way to document this incredible journey that we shared with Jamie, Ben and Ellie is to show you a photo diary of each day, along with a little description. Enjoy.

Day One - Manali to Kaza

We set off bright and way too early from Manali on the 20th of June with loads and loads of snacks for our trip: crisps, masala twisties, 1.5 kilos of yaks' cheese and some crackers, about 6 litres of water each, 3 bottles of vodka, 1 bottle of whisky, and lots of mixers.

Our happy troupe consists of Ben, Ellie, Jamie, Tim and myself, with our capable driver Ramesh behind the wheel. Manali is in the Kullu valley, and to get to the Spiti valley, you need to go over two high passes: Rohtang pass (3970m) and Kunzum pass (4551m). We also drove past the Bara Shigri glacier - literally "big glacier" in Spitian dialect (that sounds like what Australians would call it, doesn't it?), which is the longest glacier in the world at 12km long.

The view along the Kullu valley.

We were held up by seas of goats and sheep along the way...

... and many, many trucks.

"Horn Please!"

We were seriously trying Ramesh's patience by constantly asking him to stop the car so we could take
photos of all the road signs (more examples at the end of this post for your enjoyment). The roads
were terribly maintained around the Rohtang pass... there was a lot of
inconvenience, but at least they apologised for it.

A common sight on the Rohtang pass: Indian families driving up there to see snow for the very first time, then
they build shrines out of snow and have snow ball fights, then they eat grilled corn on the cob (and throw
the cob out the window onto the snow).

Tim with a mixture of clean and dirty snow as the backdrop on the Rohtang pass.

Photo opportunity on the other side of the Rohtang pass.

The Kunzum pass is far enough away from Manali to be peaceful.

Me in front of the gompa on top of the Kunzum pass. Ramesh took a silk scarf from this site
for good luck... he assures us it's not stealing.

The view above one of the two food stall at Batal.

From the balcony at our guest house in Kaza.

Day Two - Ki Monastery and Kibber Village (stay in Kaza)

On our second day we set off from Kaza on a day trip to Ki and Kibber one person short, as poor Ellie was suffering from altitude sickness and could hardly stand.

The first stop was Ki monastery (4,116m), which is the repository of rare Thangka paintings and texts. The new hall was occupied by several chanting monks so we couldn't enter, but another monk kindly opened up the old part of the monastery for us, and even served us some chai. This section of the monastery had recently been blessed by the Dalai Lama on it's 1,000th year of operation.

Kibber has the slightly subdued title of the 'highest permanently inhabited village in the world... with a motorable road... and electricity'. At 4205m above sea level, it is bloody high, and we found it difficult walking up the hilly paths. All the houses looked very Tibetan with their thick, white washed mud brick walls.

The Spiti river cuts through the valley and completely fills the flood plain at the right time of year...

... it looked beautiful whilst we were there.

Ki monastery, perched on top of a small hill, is often featured on postcards for the Spiti valley.

A close up view of Ki monastery.

One of the many beautiful teaching paintings in the outer foyer of Ki monastery. A monk briefly explained
that it's a story about respecting your elders (in this instance, the duck).

Kibber village with their Tibetan-style houses was great fun to walk around, albiet very slowly.

The houses were grouped together on the side of a hill.

The view from half way up Kibber village... we couldn't make it up the whole way due to the altitude.

One of the many prayer flags waving in the breeze in Kibber village.

Day Three - Langza and Comik monastery (stay in Kaza)

On our third day, Ellie was still feeling under the weather and this time Ben stayed back in Kaza with her, whilst Jamie, Tim and I ventured out on a day trip to Langza and Comik.

The drive to Langza provided some spectacular scenery of the surrounding mountain ranges in all their glory. Langza itself was a very small village and had a hill-top Buddha over-looking the amazing scenery. There were also lots of incredibly ancient fossils to be found in the area... we even found some fossilised sea shells at over four thousand metres! If we found it difficult to walk around in Kibber, it was almost prohibitively so in Langza, and we had to pause for breathe ever couple of metres ascent.

Comik monastery is just a short distance from Langza and is home to another very old monastery (for men only) which we visited. Bizarrely, it was home to a stuffed snow leopard which hung macarbly in the monastery doorway. The friendly monks served us some chai and gave us each a red or yellow blessed string to wear around our wrists.

Beautiful Langza village with the snow dusted mountains as a backdrop.

The village was difficult to walk around due to the altitude... even on relatively flat ground. The difference
between this and the previous photograph is me pausing to catch my breath.

The hill-top Buddha over looks Langza.

The houses in Langza were also built in the simple Tibetan style.

We loved driving through the beautiful mountains.

Two of the friendly monks outside Comik monastery.

The tiny village of Comik.

Day Four - Kungri monastery and Dhankar monastery
(stay in Tabo)

The whole troupe left Kaza early on this morning to head down the Pin valley to see the Kungri monastery (built in 1330 AD). Kungri monastery has some beautiful and vivid buddhist teaching paintings inside the new monastery section, and part of the complex is devoted to early schooling for young children from the area. Whilst we were at Kungri, the children were in the middle of an English lesson and we spent about half an hour talking with them and generally disrupting the lesson.

On the way back down the Pin valley, we stopped off at a rickety wooden bridge that crosses the Pin river, so we could experience just how cold the water actually was.

After coming out of the Pin valley, we hung a right down the Spiti valley again and headed towards Dhankar. Dhankar monastery (3890m) is set on top of a ridge and used to be a castle of the Spiti ruler, Nano. It's now the repository of buddhist scriptures but is rarely visited compared to Ki, even though it has an arguably much more dramatic setting.

The scenery along the Pin valley was very dramatic.

An adorable little donkey walking along the road. I love their fuzzy disproportionately large heads.

The Pin river freezes over in winter and most of the Pin valley will be blanketed by ice and snow.

The new section of Kungri monastery with it's beautiful interior paintings.

Ellie testing out the freezing water. None of us brought our bathers unfortunately.

The Pin valley is supposed to be home to many Siberian Ibex and some Snow Leopards.
We didn't see any, but we weren't that disappointed... or that surprised.

The very rickety wooden bridge. Mental note: don't try and cross a rope bridge when someone
else is already walking on it. Very scary.

Approaching Dhankar village and monastery.

It's position on the ridge line is perfect for it's previous incarnations as a
fort and a castle.

Dhankar with it's incredible background of mountains.

The village of Dhankar is spread out below the monastery. Ben wants to live here... I can see why.

The view from the top of the monastery.

Protecting omens supporting the prayer flags.

A rare opportunity where we were able to take photos inside the monastery. This is the often seen
buddhist painting of the cycle of life. 'Om mani padme hum' - may all sentient beings be happy.
The snake, bird and pig in the inner circle represent characteristics that one has to give up to achieve enlightenment.

Jamie with an offering.

The monks use these masks as part of their ceremonial dances.

The ancient buddhist texts are carefully stored in these boxes at Dhankar.

Day Five - Tabo monastery to Losar (stay in Losar)

Tabo monastery is over one thousand years old (built in 996 AD) and is a UNESCO world heritage site due to it's exquisite wall paintings. It's the largest monastic complex in Spiti valley, with the old section comprising of nine temples, chortens, a monks chamber and a nuns chamber. When we arrived, a monk gave us a tour of the complex (in a clockwise direction, of course) none of which we could take photos of.

That night we stayed in Losar and watched some of the World Cup. This is also when we found out that Australia had got through to the next round - yay!

Giving the Hull from England a run for it's money is this version we drove through in
the Spiti valley. This man went on to babble something in Spitian dialect to us, which
Ramesh translated as, "everything is possible".

We all found this sign hilarious... much to Ramesh's confusion. Tim later explained it to him.

The chortens at the Tabo monastery were covered with rocks engraved with the buddhist
prayer, om mani padme hum.

Day Six - Losar to Manali via Chandertal Lake

Our last day of the jeep trip was mainly spent driving back to Manali, although we did stop off at Chandertal lake. At over 4,000m it's one of the highest lakes in the world, and Ben wanted to fish in it. I left the camera in the car, so we don't have any photos unfortunately.

Instead I thought I would include all the photos of crazy road signs we saw leading up to the Rohtang pass. It reminded me of the Australian equivalent, "Drink drive: bloody idiot".

Head for the Hills

2006-06-15T19:31:00.000+09:30

There are worse places to have to spend a week or two than Mumbai.

The Flashpackers guide lists the worst places to have to spend a week or two as Delhi, Cleethorps and the inside of an elephants arse (in that order).

Given this, we weren't too bothered about the prospect of hanging around to sort out our travel arrangements and get our camera fixed (its had a hard life), figuring on a day or two to fix the camera and about two weeks to get train tickets.
Amazingly we managed to book the whole of our next leg of travel in one day, in fact it took less than one hour. We did it al in one building, all at the same counter - the first one we had walked up to.
This feat of concentrated organisation didn't go unnoticed though, the helpful official was noticed by a spy from the union of useless workers (India's largest union), beaten to death (unefficiently) and replaced by a broken stapler.

The upshot of this is that we had tickets out of there, we were heading for the hills, the one and only place to be during this season (metres of rain in the south and 50 degree temperatures on the plains).

We passed through Shimla, the old summer capital of India during the British Raj, and headed on to Manali, the summer capital of the Traveler Raj.

This is basically why this blog has been so silent for so long. Manali is a chilled out place, a very very chilled out place. A chillumed out place in fact, and its infectious.

Neither Traci or I smoke weed, hash, charas or any other dope deriditive, but pretty much everyone else in Manali does. And there is a lot of weed in Manali. A LOT of weed. Its not just that you can buy it everywhere (the hotel we were staying in will deliver it to your room and put it on your bill), it IS everywhere. 90% of the plants at the side of the road, in gardens, and covering hillsides are weed plants. If you were to pick it all, and roll it into joints, I'm pretty sure that there would be enough to get all of Australia simultaneously stoned..... For a week or two at least.

So after months on the road were happy to move in to a place. Actually take the stuff out of our backpacks for a change. Well we did this in spades.

We came, we watched the world cup, learnt some new card games and ate lots of deserts (due to all the stoned people, the locals have perfected all manner of tasty chocolatey goodies). Before you know it nearly two weeks have slid past.

666... The Number of The Beast

2006-06-06T22:30:00.000+09:30

Today seems like an appropriate day to let you all officially know that we're ignoring the risks and... we're eating meat in India.

Crazy, I know... but us foodies will NOT restrict ourselves to vegetarian if it means that we're going to miss out on some fabulous dish!! Hell no!

We at flashpackers assumed we would never be eating meat in India, to try and delay the inevitable squirts, but we found ourselves going straight for the "non-veg" section of the menu everytime. Now, it's come to the point where I will refuse to go into 'pure veg' restaurants... at least give me the choice!

As Hasan so sagely put, "Life's too short for sh*t food". Here, here!

Granted, if you're vegetarian, India's the place to visit (as opposed to China, where they consider chicken a type of vegetable)... it has a very varied and delicious selection of 'veg only' dishes.

However, I have 2 words for those considering avoiding meat: Achari Kebab (tandoor chicken that has been marinated in mango chutney). A dish surely sent from the heaven... it starts off sweet, and then the spicey chutney backnotes kick in.

I can go on: anything from the tandoor; Pork Vindaloo; Chicken Xacutti; Prawn Masala; Chicken Jazeez; Mutton Rogan Josh... the list goes on and on.

Yum!

Why People Complain About Travel In India

2006-06-02T19:00:00.000+09:30

We are finally in Mumbai now (arrived last night) but it was a long time coming. We were trying to get our damn tickets for the 31/5 for three days leading up to it... it's a long and painful story.

After Tim spent hours trying to register onto the official train site and then trying to buy tickets (it's completely useless, and so is the help desk) we discovered that you can only book from that site if you are a resident of India. The good thing - we could see that there was availability on a sleeper train from Thivim station (our closest station) to Mumbai on the 31st of May. The problem is that the travel agent in Vagator cannot book tourist quota tickets for the train, just regular tickets that the locals can buy.

The next day, we hired a motorbike and went to Thivim station under threatening skies, but after lining up for an hour, we discovered that we couldn't buy the tickets there. Apparently you can only buy them from the departure station (Margao, about 35ks south as the crow flies), not the boarding station - bastards.

So we drove in the pouring rain straight to Calangute to try and find another booking agency that may be able to obtain tourist quota tickets so that we wouldn't have to ride all the way down to Margao in the rain. We're soaked to the bone by this point. The guy from Moon Tours said he could, but it was too late that day, we had to come back the next morning before 10am - fine.

The next morning, it was of course still bucketing down and we were running late, so we called the manager of the store on his mobile at 9.45am to ask if the 'boy' had left for the station yet, and he said "No, he hasn't but you have to hurry, he has lots of tickets to buy and I don't know how long I can delay him for."
Tim put in a super human effort, and we arrived there at 10.05am... I jumped off the back of the bike and raced inside only to find the store closed (security gate rolled down and everything). Fortunately, we recognised an employee that was waiting out the front of the shop from the day before, and she told us that the 'boy' had already left for the station... at 9.30am!! Lying bastards!!
Tim called the manager on his mobile and told him what a useless a-hole he was for 5 minutes, which made us both feel slightly better, but now time was running out because the tickets we wanted were for the following night and we were really starting to panic.

We then spent the next 3 hours in Calangute, going from travel agent to travel agent (in the rain) trying to see if they could buy tourist quota tickets. [NB: you cannot do this by the way... anyone who says they can is lying.] There was also a power cut due to said rain, so even the places that said they could do it (which they couldn't), needed a photocopy of our passport (which of course you need electricity for) or alternatively, wanted to charge us a huge fee each. All in all, a horrible pain in the arse.

Eventually, we caught a local bus into Panajim and then another local bus into Margao and then a rickshaw into the train station... and got our tickets in five minutes! Woo hoo!
It doesn't end there unfortunately.

So Wednesday night rolls around, we catch a bus into Mapusa and then another one to Thivim station... we're about half an hour early for our blessed train... just in case. We're waiting on the platform and we kept hearing all these announcements on the loud-speaker in Hindi but didn't think too much of it. Eventually, we asked an India girl whether there was any news about our train, and she helpfully told us that it was running late. OK, no worries, so we went and sat back down for about another 3/4 of an hour. I thought I better go ask the train master when it would actually be arriving... good thing I did, because the bloody train was running 12 HOURS late!! He told us to come back the next day at 6am.
F*%k.

So we're stuck at Thivim station (which is not exactly the tourist hub of Goa)... it's dark, and the only close accommodation was charging 400 rs per night (bastards)!! We decided to catch a bus into Mapusa and stay there instead, so we hopped on an absolutely packed bus and had to put our bags in the front cage section where the driver and a couple of old guys were sitting... no problem as we did that on the way in. However, when we got off at Mapusa, we found that someone had kindly rifled through Tim's daypack (which had our ipod and both passports in there as well as a couple of hundred Aussie dollars), but thankfully nothing was taken.
We didn't know that at the time, and both screamed at the bus driver and I took his license plate number and said I'd be making a formal complaint... this made us feel a bit better. ;)

We found a hotel (309 rs), had a nice meal with a couple of surprisingly cold beers and tumbled into bed at about 10pm knowing that we have to get up at 4.45am to get the taxi that we've booked for 5am the next morning (150 rs). I know, I know. It would have worked out cheaper to stay 20 metres away from the train station and pay the higher room rate.
There's more...

We get to Thivim station half an hour before the train arrives, and we're told that it will actually be getting here at 7am (bastards!!) - the confusion was that it will leave Margao station at 6am, not arrive at Thivim at that time.
So finally, we get on the train (at 7.30am) and have a bit of a kip for a couple of hours etc etc. We even ate some train food which hasn't even made us sick... yet!. But instead of our train taking 12 hours it took us 18 hours to get to Mumbai. Bastards!!

One really good thing was that we met this great guy called Hasan who gets to travel the world for work (he's a photographic artist and Assistant Professor at a New York university... he works on various projects all over the world and is even going to show some work at the Tate Modern in October! Respect!), so he's very interesting to talk to.

Thank god we're out of Vagator!! We were horribly bored.

I can see why so many people complain about travel in India.

Palolem Beach

2006-05-28T17:38:00.000+09:30

After dropping Chris off at the airport, Tim and I picked up Carol and Emily from Jackie's Day n' Nite, and we all headed down south to Palolem beach, full of anticipation (it's supposed to be lovely).
Tim had to drive the loan car the whole way (I was not confident enough to drive in India!), but we found that the traffic wasn't too bad at all... being a Sunday, and it was a very scenic drive with lots of beautiful buildings etc.

Me and Emily in the back seat, listening to the Rolling Stones.

A Goan girl out the front of a little church in Mapusa.

Indian guys in the back of a well decorated truck... horn OK please!

When we arrived, there was much oohh-ing and aahh-ing coming from the backseat as Emily and I pressed our noses to the window... "look at the beach! look at the shops! look at the restaurants!". I think we all knew that we were going to stay longer than our pre-arranged 2.5 days.

The great thing about arriving somewhere on the edge of the season in India (and this is particularly true for Goa), is that it's much less hectic, generally cheaper but you can still get a good sense of the "vibe" of the place.

For Palolem beach that meant: fisherman pulling in their nets and fishing boats; Indian women in their saris wading in the water; little kids playing cricket; dogs defending their territory; and people congregating in the beach front restaurants.

Palolem is a lovely beach, and we all had a very relaxing time there. :)

Me, Emily and Carol on Palolem beach.
Tim modeling my new scarves.
The inviting ocean...
The beach dogs were very freindly and very territorial.
Everyone's got to have a cheesy photo like this...
Sunset, walking back to our hut on the beach.

Looking back at Palolem beach from the point.

One morning, we felt like a bit of pampering, and so we headed down to the Intercontinental Hotel to see how the other half lived... very, very well it would seem. Carol, Emily, Tim and I sat pool-side with a cold drink in our hands admiring the grounds. Our bill for two cocktails and two sodas (plus a bottle of mineral water) came to over 1,000 rupees!! Not for those on a budget, clearly.

Tim and Carol (his mum), pool side, at the Intercontinental.

Emily and I (foreground), with Carol (background), at the Intercontinental... darling.

Vagator

2006-05-25T19:36:00.000+09:30

Chris, Traci and I finally arrived in Goa at about 5pm having spent several lifetimes sitting on a day train from Mumbai.
It was a dangerous train ride, sitting opposite us was India's Wobblyest Headed Man, and we were convinced that at any moment his head would finally succeed in doing what it had been trying to do for all of its 45 odd years - Detach its self from its body. For what reason it wanted to do this we were unsure, but it could only have been driven by evil. None of us wanted to be there to find out.

We left the train station and headed straight to Vagator beach, famous as a party spot since the sixties.
The village itself has a very Portuguese feel; little chapels everywhere, and large hacienda style houses made of red stone with sprawling verandas. The beach is beautiful, ringed by palm trees, and surrounded by a small cliff, on top of which is a club (one of the many).

An old portugese colonial house

During the high season the place would be absolutely heaving; people everywhere, all night parties in the clubs and impromptu raves on the beaches (only problem with this being the music: Psy Trance and other similar crap).
We were arriving at the very tail end of the season, and everything was already starting to wind down or close up shop completely. Not that we were going to let this stop us.

Little Vagator beach

First things being first, we headed straight out for a beer at the nine bar which, despite the crap trance, was an excellent club. Sat on top of a cliff with great views of the sunset, walls made of large red stone blocks that seem so popular here, a sand dance floor and tasteful decor (not a UV glow spider web in sight). I was bloody impressed... I could see that it was going to be a good week :)
All the little things that pissed us off about the Thai party scene were not a problem in Goa. There was hardly any litter, and there wasn't that unfinished feel to everything (like buildings with half a wall missing, even though they have been there 10 years, stuff like that). Anyone who has been to both places will know what I mean, all three of us had the same feeling.

The view from the 9 Bar, Little Vagator

Friends on the beach

"Fu*k Koh Pha Ngang" was uttered more than a few times.

The only problem was that the season was finishing. Restaurants, Guest Houses, Bars and Clubs were starting to shut for the season, all the good DJ's had gone home.

We spent a couple of days kicking around, drinking beers on the beach and generally winding down (for Chris a much to short get away from work, and for us, leaving India with out actually leaving it).

And then we wound right back up again...

Fear and Loathing..... Papadam Style.

We had run out of beer one night, some time around 11. The nine bar was closed. What were we to do?
Walk to Anjuna we thought... It's not that far, next town south along the beach. There's beer there for sure.
In the end we only got about a tenth of the way.

While climbing down to little Vagator beach we bumped into a bunch of Indian guys hanging out on the porch of their flash hotel room:
"Hi, Hello, where are you going?" asked one of them,
"Just off to get some beer" I said.
"Beer? No everything is closed" the guy replied "We have beer, come, sit, we will get some more.... we will send for the boy" (a phrase we would come to hear a lot)

Although hesitant at first, we thought why not? and he clearly did have beer :)

And so we met Suria, a rich Indian industrialist who was in Goa to party for a couple of weeks, but had no one to party with.
As soon as we sat down the other Indian guys left, they had basically been keeping Suria company, and we were the shift change!

Suria put us all to shame. Although he was ten years older than the oldest of our group he had been partying for eight days when we met him, and showed no signs of slowing down..... no wonder those other Indian guys slipped off so quick after we arrived!

We spent the next four days hanging around with him in his plush hotel room overlooking the beach. He would not accept a single rupee for anything, despite our protests, but we came to realise that this is perhaps the norm for him - being absolutely loaded meant that he basically bought what ever he wanted, and he wanted some party mates for a few days, so who were we to ruin his holiday!

I remember little of those four days.
I'm pretty sure we had a good time though, and all the photographic evidence certainly suggests we did.

Chris and Jemeela, who was staying at our guesthouse

Mumbai Madness

2006-05-23T18:05:00.000+09:30

Our train ground to a halt in Mumbai, and we were quite relieved to find that it was several degrees cooler than Rajasthan, but unfortunately we were both still suffering from Delhi belly. We argued with the touts about which dingy shite hole was better to stay in than the other ad-nausium, until we spotted a German girl who had found a cheap and comparably clean shite hole further up the road. So having finally found a place to spend a minimal amount of time in, we had a day to have a look around Mumbai and get our bearings before our mate Chris arrived from Japan.

Amazingly, in the space of just a day and a half, Tim and I were asked several times if we wanted to be paid for doing a couple of hours work. Tim was asked if he wanted to be in a TV commercial (not sure what for), and I was asked if I wanted to be in a Bollywood movie wedding scene and be a model for something or other. It would have been an awesome experience, but because we had to pick Chris up from the airport we had to turn them all down... we would have made some rupees from it too! Damn it. Next time we're back in Mumbai, we'll have to get an agent darling.

The whole picking-Chris-up-from-the-airport thing was a fiasco from the beginning. We should have realised this when the first taxi we caught to Mumbai airport overheated and broke down about a third of the way there. After transferring to another taxi we were on our way again (even though we had to fight to keep to the already agreed price), and in the end, Chris' plane was on time and he was is good spirits.
That is until we were allocated the most useless taxi driver this side of the Arabian Sea to take us from the airport to Colaba (the main tourist area). He had no idea where he was going and didn't speak any English... but at least he stopped and asked directions from other taxi drivers. Annoyingly, he would only drive further 800m before stopping to ask another taxi driver for more directions. At least the cab hadn't broken down.
After the taxi ride taking an extra hour and a half longer than it was supposed to due to us stopping all the bloody time, the unthinkable happened... we broke down... in the middle of a major intersection. We had to get out and push the damn taxi to a "safer" spot... still in the middle of the intersection, but somewhat out of the way. What better introduction to India can you get?

After finally arriving back at our flea bitten palace, Tim and Chris went out for a celebratory beer... Tim came back 4,000 rupees poorer and completely shite faced at three in the morning... telling me all about his eventful night. It started with warm beer (with 8% strength) at one bar, included some horrifically expensive drinks at the Taj Hotel (with the most attentive minion in the men's toilets imaginable... apparently he did everything but shake 'it' for them), and finished with a taxi driver tricking them into going into the depths of hell for more warm beer in the middle of nowhere. I'm sorry I missed it. :)

As a major Indian city, Mumbai is better than most (read: Delhi)... she has a really vibrant pulse with a rich street life and the local people are entertaining, whilst the faded Victorian architecture is beautiful and surrounded by tropical greenery... but as Chris was only with us for a week, we booked a day train to Goa the next day.
(mental note: 12 hour day trains suck arse.)

Mad Dogs and Englishmen

2006-05-11T02:10:00.000+09:30

Yep, we have finally made it.
India.
The land of music and film that's so cheesy its almost stilton.
The land where everyone's head is attached very, very loosely.
The land where every fart is like a box of chocolates (you never know what you're going to get, but in this heat there is every chance it will be brown and runny).
India.

I have been wanting to come to this place for years and years, but it just seemed to get put off again and again.
This trip was supposed to be six to ten months traveling India, with a few weeks stop over in Thailand.
That stop over turned into six months in South East Asia and China.
India was put off again.
But we are finally here... and is it a let down after such a build up I hear you say?
Pigs arse is it! We love it.

There is one thing that is less than perfect though, the heat. Due to us arriving 5 months later than we expected to we are here for the middle of the Indian summer.
There's a phrase to describe people who travel India during the summer; "Mad Dogs and Englishmen". There is something in that phrase... not sure what exactly, but something.
Something along the lines of "ITS TOO BLOODY HOT YOU DICK HEAD".

We at FlashPackers are made of somewhat sterner stuff however, and aren't about to let a little bit of heat stop us. Are we?
Besides, were from Adelaide, it gets pretty bloody hot there too. Mid forties during the summer some times, so surely we can handle an Indian summer. Can't we?

The plan is to head out of Delhi for Mumbai and the coastal south beyond, stopping off along the way in the Rajasthani desert for a quick taste of Bundi
(a small place, rarely visited because it is old, dry and well past its glory days - when its wet though, its apparently glorious).

Should be doable.

When it gets too hot we can always retreat to the comforting, welcoming arms of a icey cold beer, just like back home on the farm..........
Except most of India has a pretty serious religious exception to beer (which is about as far from FlashPackerism as you can get).
(Nice name for a pub that, "The Welcoming Arms", must remember that one)

Ok, no beer, that's still doable. We can always find a pool somewhere surely?
Nope. Not much of a chance there. Not many pools - unless you count "pools" with more turd than water as a pool.

And there's no bloody beaches - its a bloody desert mate.

Even hot and dry, Bundi was beautiful. Unfortunately, with the temperature in the shade hovering around 49 degrees, lack of beer, pools or beaches, even us FlashPackers were not able to fully enjoy it. We spent a few nights in a beautiful old Haveli (old house) and had to move on for Mumbai.

At night the old palace is lit up. This is the view from our Haveli roof

The same view during the day

The gateway to the old quater of the town. It was all pretty old if you ask me!
Too hot for cows

Thank you, Come again.

Kanchanaburi... But Not For Long... and then Back to Bangers Again.

2006-04-29T18:06:00.000+09:30

We arrived in Kanchanaburi on Wednesday afternoon, and after seeing how damn hot it was, ignored our recommended hotel and went straight to the only guest house in town that has a pool: Little Creek. What a stroke of genius that was!
This place is awesome. The little bungalows even had an African theme and, while none of us had been to Africa and so wouldn't know, we all decided that it was spot on. Kay, the owner of the resort, was a champion (and regaled us with funny stories and plied us with alcohol) and he actually designed all the bungalows and surrounds. Did I mention that he made his name in the restaurant business? The food was fabulous - it even had a proper wood oven pizza and real cheese. We were in heaven!

On Thursday we decided to hire a couple of bikes and drive to some of the destinations around Kanchanaburi, but we thought it would all come to nothing when we could only find one chopper look-a-like bike (and not two). Fortunately, it was only 1,000 baht to hire a car for the day - a much better idea.

Our first stop was the Erawan falls. We spent a couple of hours swimming in most of the seven different levels of Erawan falls - all of which are full of these fish that nibble on your feet/hands/back/arms... whatever you leave floating still for too long. It's quite disconcerting. On level 5, Bol and Tim joined in with the young Thai kids and slid down this massive boulder into the cool green water below. If only I hadn't been in a string bikini I might have followed them.
Apparently, there are a bunch of cheeky monkeys at level 7, but alas, we had to leave for our second stop... the tiger temple!

Tim and Bol after sliding down the rocks in the Erawan Falls.

A beautiful peacock on the grounds of the Tiger Temple.

This tiger temple is run by some monks who, as the booklet would have you believe, one day decided to start looking after tigers. They've been charging 300 baht per person ever since. We did get to do the unthinkable however: pat some live tigers! It was quite an odd feeling... you know they're a dangerous animal, but they're so used to human company that they really don't mind. When we were there they were a bit restless as it had just been raining, and as this helps cool them down they get more active and so wanted to go and play. Since they're chained up, this is impossible, although the monks did have to bring some of the tigers in line by hitting them with sticks and slapping their faces. How very zen. Even though I do feel somewhat jaded by that experience, at least I can say I patted a tiger! Unfortunately, we don't have any photos of that, only video footage... you'll have to wait a while for them.

That night, back at Little Creek, we had another sumptuous dinner of pizza and beer (hey, when you find a wood oven you have to make the most of it) which ended up with Aussie frogs, samsong buckets and live music (thanks Adam and Pete!). Excellent.

On Friday, needless to say, Tim and I were ready for a big day of sweet FA... or maybe we could join in with all the stuff that Bol and Em had planned. Just in case, we thought we would call the Indian embassy (who have been processing our visa request for a week by this point) to see if we could pick up our visas on Monday (instead of Friday like they asked us to)... so that we would have more time to do bugger all. This was the response: "No madam, if the delivery day is Friday then please be picking it up on the Friday. Goodbye". This thoughtful man I spoke to neglected to mention that, despite the particular section of the embassy closing at 1630, you have to drop your passports in at the embassy between the hours of 1200 and 1300.... and not to just rock up and expect to receive them at any old time. "No, no, no. You drop your passports in, sir, and then you can pick them up with your new Indian visa between the hours of 1530 and 1630". I guess we're waiting until Monday.
Just to be on the safe side, we moved our flights back to Wednesday night. Who knows what he might say next: "I'm sorry sir, but did you not see that small sign behind my desk saying that you must wear the colours of the Indian flag when picking up your visa? Please be coming back tomorrow in the appropriate attire".

So we had to say good bye to Bol and Em (at least for a little while) and go back to Bangkok to sort everything out. It wasn't so bad though... we got to meet up with some more of our newly made friends in Bangers and finally go and visit the Golden Buddha!

Tim fiddling with Neil's computer. Apparently, one fine day, Neil is going to
leave Sri-Auyatthia guest house (and Thailand) and go and see something.
We at flashpackers find this unlikely, and are pretty sure that the next time
we go to Bangkok, Neil will still be sitting in the same chair. ;)

Neil getting ready to get up and move... oh, false alarm.

The famed Golden Buddha.

The beautiful scerene face of said Buddha...

... and the intricately decorated feet.

One of the frescos on the wall surrounding the massive Buddha.

Me and the gorgeous Philiy.

Tommy and Philiy holding the bunch of lotus flowers. A jeweller by
trade, but Tommy also taught us how to fold the petals into this lovely creation.

Lia, the champion from Adelaide, who almost didn't make it past day 1 in Bangkok.
(mental note: don't get involved with any gambling schemes... they're all in on it!!)

Friends, Songkran and the Island Life

2006-04-25T18:39:00.000+09:30

After much anticipation, Bol and Em finally arrived in Bangkok!! They copped a massive taxi bill from the airport to Tavee guest house, but apart from that, they arrived happy and safe. We showed them around Bangkok for their first day taking almost every form of transport possible on the way into Khao San and into the city: river taxi, sky train, tuk tuk, metro and taxi... all we needed to complete the set was one of the public buses!
That night we went to see Bol's cousin Chris and his lovely wife Moo Dang who were exceedingly generous to us all. Moo Dang cooked the BEST red duck curry EVER and Chris pulled out all the stops with some delicious red wine from SA. He had a surprise up his sleeve as well: one ice cold bottle of Coopers Pale Ale. Oh my god... you should have seen our reactions, well, specifically Tim and I. We literally fell backwards in total shock. Bol very kindly let us have it as he realised that we were starved of the best beer in the world for the past five and a half months. We were all well and truly spoilt.

Bangkok is a great place, but we were all looking forward to a bit of R & R on the islands (hey, traveling is tough!), so after booking two rooms at Harmony on Koh Pha Nhang and organising our bus/catamaran tickets we were off!
Harmony Beach Club is another place where we feel at home, and we quickly got back into our usual routine of trying to drink the guest house dry. The first night we were there, Harmony had put together a massive bbq with all sorts of delights for 300 baht per head. Of particular note was their calamari rings... mmm so tender.

Songkran is the Thai New Year and is traditionally celebrated by trickling water over loved ones shoulders and head to bring them good luck, and by putting a bit of talcum powder on their cheeks to show respect for the dead. Of course, with time, this has turned into an all out water fight which, in some areas of Thailand, lasts for days. We decided to head into the main town of Hadd Rin to experience the festival, but we ended up hiding in bars to avoid getting soaked by dirty water. My particular favourite is the super soaker charged water stream in the eyes.

In total, we spent just over a week on Koh Pha Nhang, and a couple of days on Koh Tao. We spent some of those days hiring motor bikes and going to different beaches around the island of Pha Nhang. It was Em's first time on the back of a bike, and she loved it... until we hired a trail bike that is. On Koh Tao, we snorkeled with sharks in Shark Bay (funny that) and Tim and I went on a couple of scuba dives, both were excellent fun.
Em, Bol and I stuffing around on a beach in Koh Pha Nhang.
A beautiful rocky cove in Koh Pha Nhang.
Em and I went mental over the cutest dog ever... it's a pom and pekenese mix called Bim bim. It was difficult to be around it, it was that cute. I don't know how the owners got along with their day... see for yourself.
Me and Bim-bim... he's so god-damned cute it hurts.
Unfortunately, we had to high tail it back to Bangkok so Tim and I could apply for our Indian visas... I would have loved to spend more time on Koh Tao!! Believe it or not, "thank you, come again" is a phrase we've heard a lot over the past week, as we have had to go into the embassy about 4 times.
At least we'll get to go to Kanchanaburi...

Back to Bangers

2006-04-06T18:29:00.000+09:30

What more to say, other than the title.
While sitting in a guesthouse in Kunming working out our next leg of travel, Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Maccau, Bangkok, we realised that basically, we couldn't be arsed to travel such a long way in a short space of time. We had also seen a sign in the guesthouse advertising cheap flights to Bangers, and after adding up the cost of the Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Maccau, Bangkok option we realised that it would be cheaper to fly from Kunming. Even given the fact we would have to forfeit the flight we had booked from Maccau.

"Bollocks to it, can't be arsed" we both said, and booked a flight for the next day.

A lot of interesting things happened in the time we were in Bangers, including the rescuing of an Aussie girl from the clutches of an illegal gambling syndicate, but as I said previously: can't be arsed. Maybe ill write about it later, but its sunny out side, and other assorted excuses.

Ooh Ah Shangri-La

2006-04-01T16:03:00.000+10:30

After walking to the eastern end of the gorge, our plan was to take the less used northern road to Zhongdian, via the limestone terraces at Baishutai.
Chinas southern province of Yunnan is very mountainous, especially this part of it, and because of this its quite sparsely populated. This is the southern tip of the Himalayas, with peaks ranging in height from about 3800m to 5700m, getting higher and higher the further north you travel. Zhongdian, in the far north of Yunnan, is the start of the Tibetan world, with the border being only 150k's to the north. The majority of the population are ethnically Tibetan, and have held onto their own language and traditions despite the onslaught of the Han Chinese.

When I walked the gorge four years ago, there was only a dirt track leading down to Daju, the town of at the eastern end of the gorge, but now there's a tarmac road leading all the way through to Zhongdian. For us this was perfect as it made for easy travel, but it is such a new route that it isn't in any guidebooks yet :)
Without doubt, the bus ride from Daju to Zhongdian was one of the best we have been on. The road repeatedly wound its way up mountain sides, through passes, and back down again into villages nestled on hillsides.
At the top of the passes we were sometimes at the snowline, surrounded by grey and white peaks, while the bottom of the valleys were almost subtropical, in between the two the climate and vegetation changed at almost every bend.

This green fairy floss lichen stuff hung from every tree on the higher passes

We reached Baishutai around 5pm, and with only a couple of hours until sunset we set off immediately to see the limestone terraces, which are just behind the village on a hillside.

Its always hard for us to know if were going to like tourist attractions like Baishutai's limestone terraces, as there's never much in guidebooks about out of the way places like that, and the tourist information literature is always biased. The LP will have one paragraph saying something like "The terraces are easily accessible from the village, are X years old, and cost 30RMB to get in", the tourist literature will say something like "Come and marvel at natures wonderful gifts at the amazing Baishutai.... etc etc", and after the Lugu Hu episode we were a bit wary.

Fortunately, we did marvel at natures wonderful gifts at the amazing Baishutai.

The terraces look like they were ordinary rice terraces once upon a time, but a mountain spring rich in dissolved calcium at some point started running over them and caked them in lime. The result is truly stunning. Unfortunately we didn't take that many pictures, but we did take plenty of video, so we can get some from that later.

The whole place was like a fairy grotto, with impossible ancient looking trees, twisted, gnarled and stunted, often covered with moss and lichen.

The locals believe that if a woman drinks from the spring she will become pregnant.... With a population of 1.3 billion, you wouldn't imagine that the Chinese would need any lessons in reproductive biology, but there you go, apparently there is no need for men any more, just drink from the spring.
Needless to say, I kept a pretty close eye on Traci, just in case she felt the need for a drink!

I wasn't going to write about the following episode, but enough time has passed for me to get over my wounded ego :)
On the way back out of the park I noticed a very inviting looking highly polished, steeply sloped concrete wall..... Of course, I couldn't let it pass..... I had to slide down it, despite Traci's all too valid protests of "that's a bloody stupid idea". All went well until I gathered a lot of speed and had to jump off the end. One badly twisted ankle, probable broken rib, and bruised ego later I had to admit that it probably was a stupid idea. Fortunately, Traci captured the whole thing on video for posterity.

As we drove further north, the villages started to change, gradually showing more and more Tibetan influence. As we came over the last mountain pass, we dropped down into a large grassland plateau dotted with Tibetan villages, gompas, and herds of yaks.

They use these racks to dry things, anything from hay to yaks skins

A typical Tibetan house

Tibetan architecture is a little bizarre to look at, houses have sloping walls about 50cm thick which are coated with mud and painted white. I suppose it would be pretty good to have half metre walls in the Himalayas though!

We arrived in Zhongdian around lunch time, and after dropping our bags at our hotel and putting on nearly every item of clothing we had (yup, it was bloody freezing.... literally) we set off to explore the town.
Zhongdian is a weird place to say the least. We wandered around a food market among hanging Yak carcasses, Yak heads, Yak feet, and Yak skin blankets (Yaks are bloody huge by the way, and Yak meat tastes excellent). We drooled at the amazing variety of mushrooms they have in that region (fresh shitake mushrooms for about AUD 50c a kilo.... A KILO!!!!), and generally did a good job of working up an appetite in preparation of our first Tibetan meal.
Having now tried quite a lot of Tibetan dishes, I think the best way to describe them is coronary inducing. I'm not sure which ethnicity has the highest rate of heart disease, but I'll bet the house on the fact that which ever one can claim that title can only do so because the Tibetans haven't been tested. This can be the only explanation.
One morning we were treated to a typical Tibetan breakfast: Yaks butter, fried in Yaks cheese (I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be Yaks cheese fried in Yaks butter, but that's not the way it looked); Tibetan crispy pork with chilly (the fattiest bits of pork belly, fried in.... yes you guessed it, Yaks butter) and to wash it down there was a large pot of Tibetan tea. To make Tibetan tea, you take a large pile of Yaks butter, dilute it (very slightly) with Yaks milk then add tea and spices. FOR BREAKFAST FOR GODS SAKE. It took us nearly an hour to recover from that.

The highlight of our visit to the Tibetan world was definitely visiting the gompa (Tibetan for monastery), a little way out of the town.
I'm not usually very interested in places like that, being a militant atheist, but this place was very different. The second we stepped into the grounds we were debating whether we should extend our stay, just so we could spend more time there. Unfortunately photography isn't allowed in the monastry, so we only have a few pics.

The side view of the monastery

It was an incredibly calming place to be, which is something to be cherished when traveling through China. We didn't get past the courtyard for the first hour, we just sat watching and listening to the monks debating, chanting, and philosophising.
The younger monks sat around an older one, and by the looks of it, the younger ones posed questions or arguments to him, which he dutifully answered. On getting an answer, the younger monks would chant in the low guttural tones that Tibetan Buddhists do and roll beads through their hands.
Being up high in the mountains with nothing but the squalks of birds, chanting monks and chiming bells is a great experience. We just sat and soaked it up.

A chicken, reflecting on the life of Buddha described in the fresco

part of the monastery complex

Tibetan is much prettier to look at than Chinese

The view from the monastery courtyard

In the end, half a day was enough at the gompa and we made our way back to town, just in time to catch our bus back to Lijiang.

Tiger Leaping Gorge

2006-03-30T15:36:00.000+10:30

Tim and I delayed our trip to Tiger Leaping Gorge by a day or so, so we could spend an extra day with our mates Tess and Andy who we have been travelling on and off with since we left Vietnam.

However, when the day finally arrived, we were perplexed. If the entrance fee to get into the TLG was 50 yuan, how on earth could Mama drive you to the gorge AND get you inside for only 40 yuan?? I won't divulge, but it's ingeniously simple and just another example of how Mama takes care of her guests.

So after waiting as long as possible to get over our colds (thanks again for that one Andy!!), Tim and I set off for the gorge on a Sunday, along with another Aussie guy called Gene. We sneakily arrived at the start of the gorge trek at about 2pm and set off under clear blue skies.

Tiger Leaping Gorge is breath taking, in both senses of the word. The Jade Dragon Mountain backdrop is just beautiful (when it's not shrouded by clouds), and with the Yangtze surging along below us, it's a pretty difficult combination to beat.
We decided to (really) take our time with the hike, and do it over three days. This meant that for the first day we only walked for 2.5 hours, which in turn meant that there was plenty of time for food and beer at our first stop, the Naxi Family guesthouse. The room was pretty basic (and we didn't even try to use the showers once we heard what everyone else had to say about them), but the owners were lovely, and we had a great time chatting with all the other people who were doing the trek over dinner.

On our second day, Tim and I set off under threatening skies, ready for the most challenging part of the trek - the infamous '28 bends' (probably closer to 40). These bends in the path lead you up the mountain a further 1200 metres in elevation over about 4k's before leveling out for the rest of the time.
Having said that, I enjoyed the second days' trek much more, even though it took us about six and a half hours. It might have been because we had enough time to get a bit of a rhythym going... who can say.

That night we stayed at the Halfway guest house (which isn't), along with several other elderly couples we met previously at the Naxi Family guest house (I told you we set a blistering pace). For four years, Tim has been telling everyone about these incredible toilets, and even went so far as to tell other trekkers along the way to hold on until they reached Halfway. I think in the re-telling over all this time, the long drop became thousands of metres, the view down the valley became longer and grander, and I somehow always pictured western style toilets. So, I was not without some disappointment when I resurfaced from said loo, especially since I had been eyeing off bushes along the path for the last 2 hours. Granted, the view was still spectacular, but some things are probably better left unsaid.

One of the other things Tim remembered that drew us to this guest house was the warm family reception that he and Christa received last time. Unfortunately, this had also changed, as one of the cute little kids from four years ago had now turned into an annoying teenager that was rude to everyone there. After some words to the owner, and a free (and awkward) meal with the family, everything was apples again. I think the Chinese woman who translated parts of Tim's outburst got a free room for the night for her troubles, which she was embarrassed about. We have since heard from other backpackers that did the trek through the gorge, that most were unimpressed with the attitude they got from the other guesthouses aswell, so it wasn't just the Halfway house.

The next day of the trek was always going to be the easiest as it was either at the same level, or down hill... yay! We had to walk over a massive waterfall that covered the path at one point, and I was glad for the fact that there had been very little rain there recently. This last part of the gorge trek only took three hours and we even managed to over-take some people. Granted they were about 70 years old and had bad knees, but it made us feel good just the same.

It's such a shame that this beautiful gorge is going to be damned up... apparently they will start the first stage next month! The water level will rise another 400 metres and change the landscape forever, so I for one am very glad that I have seen it in it's original glory.

The scenery throughout the gorge trek was varied and stunning.

First stop: Naxi Family Guest house... a lovely stop.

Tackling the "28 bends" on day two.

Direct translation: watch out!

Tim on the trail on day two... it's a long way down!

Me with the Jade Dragon mountains in the background.

Unlike most farmers, this one's a stunner.

A typical little stone village along the trail.

Relaxing at the end of the trek.

Lijiang and Mama's

2006-03-30T15:27:00.000+10:30

We arrived in lovely Lijiang on Tuesday the 22nd of March, just in time to extend our China visas which expired the next day (phew!).

Lijiang's old town is very picturesque, with beautiful old buildings and little streams criss-crossing the paths and running along beside the houses. However, every single shop in the old town sells either tourist crap, clothes, shoes or it's a restaurant... and it's choking with Chinese tour groups! It's really funny seeing all the tour guides walk along with their flags held high, and a gaggle of Chinese tourists obediently following behind, wearing their matching baseball caps. At night, they all converge on bar street (which Tim assures me, was NOT there four years ago) and have singing competitions with each other from one side of the street to the other... absolute chaos, but fun to watch!

Lijiang is criss crossed by rivers filled with gold fish.

The cobbled lanes of Lijiang with their tourist crap.

An unbeatable combination of cherry blossoms and Chinese lanterns.

A good a place as any to get down to the serious business of Chinese checkers.

We had several recommendations from travellers in Chengdu to stay in Mama's guesthouse when we get to Lijiang (one guy even went so far as to call it the best guesthouse in China!). They were full of praise about how awesome and cheap it was, and when they spoke about Mama, their eye glazed over as they retold how much she fed you and how sweet she was.

The only trick now is... how do we find it?! Mama's guesthouse is hidden away in a quiet corner of the old town, but thankfully she provides a great service where you can call Mama from anywhere in Lijiang and she will come and get you.

After a half-baked attempt to find the guesthouse on our own (via a warm beer), I was lucky enough to make the call to Mama (who endearingly, refers to herself in the third person). This is basically how the conversation went:

Me: "Ni hao?"
Mama: "Hello?"
Me: "Hello, we have just arrived in Lijiang, and we would like to stay with you."
Mama: "Hello?"
Me: "Yes, hello?"
Mama: "Hello? Mama here"
Me: "Hello Mama. Where is your guesthouse?"
Mama: "Mama.... where are you?"
(oh good, we're getting somewhere)
Me: "OK, we are near Misu Misu bar in the old town."
Mama: "Hello?"
Me: "Yes, hello? Can you hear me?"
Mama: "Police come there"
Me: "What?"
Mama: "Hello?"
Me: "What?"
Mama: "Police come get you"
Me: "Police?"
Mama: "Hello?"
(at this point, Tim was giving me this 'what's happening' look, and I gave him a 'I have no idea' look in return)
Mama: "Hello? Mama come get you!"
Me: "OK! OK, we will wait here."
Mama: "Hello? Police wait there." Then she hung up the phone.

Not one minute later though, she called back and spoke to the owners of the store that we were calling from, and they gave the phone back to me.
Me: "Ni hau"
Mama: "Hello?"
Me: "Hello Mama"
Mama: "One moment police"
Me: "OK" Then she hung up the phone. At least she knew where we were now.

Before I knew it, the store owners were passing the phone back to me again... it was Mama.
Me: "Hello?"
Mama: "Hello? One moment police, Mama come get you"
Me: "OK, we wait here"
Mama: "One moment police"

So, being pretty positive that Mama knew where we were now, we went into the bar for another beer while we waited. I spotted Mama in the crowd instantly... we even waved at each other through the bar window. She is an elderly Chinese woman with a warm face and a ready smile, and she bustled into the bar with one of her daughters/helpers and tried to take our 18 kilo bags off us.

As she was leading us through the maze of laneways, Mama asked us where we were from, then proclaimed that "now Mama have four Audalia's"... which I'm guessing meant that there were already another couple of Aussies at her guesthouse. After storing our bags in our room, Mama took Tim and I by the elbows and lead us to a table with four other travellers already seated and eating dinner. Pointing to one of the couples, and then at us, Mama proclaimed, "Two Audalia, two Audalia... four Audalia's" and sat us down. Bless her, she wanted us to sit next to someone that we had something in common with.

If that wasn't the nicest introduction to a new town I've ever had, we then found out why people's eyes really glazed over... dinner at Mama's. For 8 kwai per head (not per dish), Mama will feed you until you explode with such a variety of tasty dishes my mouth is salivating as I write this. And she won't stop either... not even if you say you're full (this means nothing to Mama), she will only stop when there are at least 3 untouched dishes of food on the table. Breakfast is very similar. It only cost 2 kwai for the thick bread, fried egg and sliced tomato feast, which of course she keeps adding to until you plead with her to stop... and then she'll give you another portion of sliced tomato. If you don't escape from Mama's domain in time for afternoon tea, Mama will feed you more food (usually a banana and a piece of bread with tomato) and tea for free. We watched one Israeli guy tell Mama he didn't want any banana, and Mama wouldn't listen... she wouldn't have a bar of it, and forced it onto him ("Eat!"). Bless her.

At night, Tim and I would sit up drinking cheap beer with the other guests at Mama's - it has such a great vibe there. And of course, it's always entertaining to hear Mama have an almost identical struggle with the English language over the phone to some other helpless traveller trying to find her.

It truly is the best guesthouse in China, and it's made our stay in Lijiang so enjoyable that we hardly notice how touristy it is. The best thing about it... it's not in the LP guide. :)

"Way...?"

No way dude

2006-03-30T14:36:00.000+10:30

If you haven't seen the film "Bill and Teds Excellent Adventure", or its sequel what ever it was called, then this post may be lost on you, but hey, at least you missed out on watching a shitty film!
When Chinese people answer the phone they pick up and say "Way", and they often use this phrase through out their conversation. Its kind of like "hello" mixed with "ah ha" mixed with "hmmm".

The up shot of this is that you often hear people saying "Way...... Way..... Way..... Way..... Way". The first time I heard this I was almost in tears, it sounds exactly like they have just received a call from Bill or Ted:

Way
No way dude
Way
No way dude
Way
Dude, no way
Way
Totally dude

Ripped Off and Jaded in Naxi-land

2006-03-19T17:18:00.000+10:30

How horribly wrong the LP can be... especially in China.

For starters, it couldn't be done. If we wanted to go from Chengdu via Lugu Hu lake on the way to Lijiang, we would have to take all provisions, a tent and a sleeping bag... but then Lugu Hu is very sleepy and practically untouched. No one told that to the hundreds of Chinese tourists, and no one at the bus station got the memo either.

We caught an over night train from Chengdu to Xichang, got straight onto a bus, and arrived at Lugu Hu without starving or sleeping in the wild. Then we paid 80 yuan each (about AUD$16!!) to get into the bloody lake. This better be good.

No, no it wasn't. All the taxis at Lugu Hu town were price fixed to 20 yuan per person to go about 5 k's around the lake to the 'sleepy' little town of Lige... this was annoying right from the start as the 8 hour bus ride from Xichang to Lugu Hu was only 67 yuan each. To make matters worse, the taxi driver drove like a freaking maniac on the loose gravel, winding mountain roads (I think he actually sped up for the hair-pin corners), and when we pleaded with him to slow down he literally turned around in his seat to look at us and cackled like a mad man. Finally, he pulled over at a look out and got out of the car. We thought he was kindly stopping for us to a) kick him in the balls, or b) take a photo. No... apparently the car couldn't make it all the way down to Lige as it was too dangerous (Hello? Slow down!), but we can walk down this steep embankment here through all the nettle bushes, and walk the remaining 800 metres to the guesthouse... that's what all the tourists do!

The 'sleepy town' of Lige may well have been this way 4 years ago (although we seriously doubt this), but it was now a mass construction site of bland wooden "old Naxi" houses.

OK, where here now, what can we do? Well, we could get one of the Naxi women to row us in a little boat around the cove (not the lake mind you) for 10 yuan per person which would take about 20 minutes. Or we could pay 150 yuan to go to one of the islands in the middle. Or we can join in with a traditional Naxi dance for 10 yuan per person. Traditional Naxi dance my ass... they played a tape of their songs on the boom box, walked around in a circle with the gullable Chinese tourists... and checked their mobiles.

Lugu Hu wasn't even that pretty. The surrounding mountains had red soil and sparce vegetation, so for us it looked very much like Australia (not a bad thing, but we've seen it before... for free), but I can understand that for the Chinese tourists it's very different.

The one great thing about Lugu Hu was the company. We met a little ball of energy and enthusiasm called Jing, and she made our time there a lot more bearable. The other good thing about the whole Lugu Hu fiasco (apart from leaving it the next day), was the thought that we didn't wait until we had already arrived in Lijiang before taking a full 9 hours to get up there and find it was shit.

[NB: when we arrived in Lijiang, we found a 2003 edition of the Rough Guide which detailed exactly the situation in Lugu Hu, and if we had read that we wouldn't have bothered.]

Chengdu, the City of a Thousand Burning Arseholes

2006-03-19T17:02:00.000+10:30

We ended up spending a week in Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province, and I have to say I love the place. It is by far the best Chinese city we have visited.... So far at least. Its clean, nice to walk around, has good public transport, lots of parks, and has somehow managed to retain much of its character despite the swinging wreckers balls.
We spent much of our time there just wandering the streets, sampling the Sichuan Cuisine, famous for being the spiciest food in china (no dissagreements from the FlashPacker camp!). Many of the natives of Chengdu struggle to eat some of the hotter dishes!
Both Traci and I love hot food, the hotter the better in fact, and we love the taste of chilies (I am of the firm belief that fried eggs only exist in this universe as a tobasco delivery vehicle). Understandably we often struggle to find food that's spicy enough, but Chengdu was a different story, and not because of chilies (believe it or not).... Its the pepper!
Sichuan pepper not something we have ever really cooked with, and when it is served in Chinese restaurants in the west they only use a little, so neither of us was wary of the handfulls that are added to everything.... Not at first that is!
The burning sensation you get from Sichuan pepper is completely different to a chili burn, and it lasts a whole lot longer.
Its a bit like when you sit on your leg for too long and it goes to sleep, then you finally straighten it out and it starts tingling all over... Its a bit like that, except 10 times stronger and all over your face.... And it doesn't go away.... No matter how much beer you drink.

The Chinese name for Chengdu is "Perfect Metropolis", but I think the title of this post is a better name.

We both knew the reputation Sichuan cuisine had, what we didnt know was for was how varied it was. On almost every street corner was either a restaurant or street food vendor, and we rarely saw the same thing twice. Food was plentiful and cheap.... The beer was cold (I almost fainted, this NEVER happens in china - unless the ambient temperature is cold that is).... Flashpacker paradise. Multiple Foodgasms at every turn.

I cant give you an exhaustive list of all the things we ate, so here's a typical day:

Breakfast is the most difficult meal when traveling in Asia, as they usually eat the same kinds of things for breakfast as they eat for dinner (well, last nights dinner to me more accurate), and it gets a bit hard to stomach day after day. Chengdu was different though. They make little egg muffin thingies with spicy pork: a hungover persons best friend... They use a special flat hot plate with cylindrical shape depressions in it (a little like a muffin tray) in which they fry an egg, take it out, then pour pancake mixture into the bottom, replace the egg, add pork, spring onions and spices, then pour more mixture on top. The result is a perfectly round muffin with egg and pork in the middle. Magic!

For lunch you can have a Chinese style pizza, with a rice flour dough base and spicy pork sausage and herbs on top - another Sichuan speciality.

Dinner was always the best though; Sichuan Hot Pot. You sit at a table with a hole in the middle, into which is placed a "hot pot" (a metal bowl filled with a mixture of stock, peanut and sesame oil, chilies, Sicuhan pepper and other herbs and spices). A gas burner underneath keeps it bubbling away nicely.
You are then free to wander up to the food counters and pick what you want to put in it, and there is a lot to choose from; skewers of Pork, Beef, Seafood, Veggies, Fruit, and Tofu of so many varied styles shapes and flavours that your eyes will pop out of your head (if the variety doesn't make your eyes pop out, the pepper certainly will).
You cook your selection in the hot pot, and throw the finished skewers into a bucket by the side of the table, which the staff count up at the end and charge you accordingly.
Between Traci, Martin (our Aussie travel companion) and myself we managed to get though 176 skewers one night.... The total cost? 17 Yuan.... that's right, the skewers are 1/10th of a Yuan each. That's about AU$3 between us.
The only problem is the amount you have to spend on beer to stop your head from exploding (Traci swore her inner ears were burning at one point).

Actually, that's not the only problem.... Its a meal that you certainly remember the next morning.... Or even until the next evening.

Panda-monium in Chengdu

2006-03-18T15:10:00.000+10:30

The famous Giant Panda.

Finally, after much confusion as to which time of day they are the most active, we went to see the pandas at the Giant Panda Research and Conservation Park with Tess and Andy.

They are mesmerisingly adorable. We arrived during their morning feeding time, and all watched on as they happily munched on kilos and kilos of bamboo. Due to the fact that they only absorb 5% of the nutrients from the bamboo stalks and leaves, they sleep for most of the day, and nearing the end of feeding time (about 10am) some of them were starting to doze off.

Well, they were trying to anyway. There were a couple of Japanese and Chinese tour groups who were yelling and clapping at the pandas to either, a) get their attention, if they were awake, for their photos, or b) to wake them up if they were dozing. This is despite all the signs in both English and Chinese saying to be quiet... we were so annoyed with some of them by the end, that we were all shushing them and pointing to the signs. There was another tour group full of Germans, and they were very respectful and quiet, but not their guide. He would yell at the top of his voice in German at every opportunity (ie. "PANDAS HABEN SECHS FINGER") and scare the pandas away! Grrrr...

Despite the annoying tour groups, we had a great time and I even got the chance to hold a baby red panda! He was only 6 months old, and happily sat in my lap for a couple of minutes while I fed him slices of apple. The handler was encouraging me to touch and kiss the little thing (as if I needed to be told!), but I spent all of the time trying to remember as many details as possible. I would have loved to hold one of the baby giant pandas, but it costs an arm and both legs - the red pandas only cost 50 kwai to hold, and it was worth every jiao!
The red pandas were much more alert and inquisitive as well... they were very interested in Tess' chocolate wafer biscuits!

Getting stuck into breakfast.

They peel the bamboo with their front teeth, and munch with the back ones.

Getting sleepy now.

They're even cute when they have their backs to you!

A baby giant panda learning how to climb.

Slowly...

... slowly... (almost there!)

(oof!) ... there we go!

Now it's making it's way up a tree...

... just in time for breakfast.

One of the baby red pandas.

How cute is he?!

He really loved the apple treats... seriously, how cute is that? :)

They were very interested in Tess' chocolate wafer snack too.

The Magical Mystery Washing Ladies Of Zhaoxing

2006-03-14T13:55:00.000+10:30

The last hour of our bus ride to Zhaoxing (see "Worst Bus Ride in China - two") was spent negotiating the winding road to the bottom of the valley in which the village is nestled.
From reading www.chinabackpacker.com, we knew that this would be how our journey would end; we would come over the top of a pass and drop down into a subtropical valley, but we had no idea which pass would be the last one (well actually, for quite a while we thought that every pass would be our last one and that we were going to go over the edge of the "road" and off a cliff, but then we realised that either way we would end up at the bottom of a valley, and gave up thinking about it).

The last pass.

We had been over one hell of a lot of mountain passes, and each time we went over the top of one we were wishing that it would be our last, (not literally that is, although we did use our video camera to make our last wills and testaments), so when we saw the bottom of a lush valley, with a beautiful village at the bottom surrounded by sunlit rice terraces, we decided that no matter where we were, we were getting off. Fortunately it was Zhaoxing.

We stumbled off the bus with shaking legs, kissed the ground and slapped the driver (I'm still not sure which one would have been cleaner to kiss), told each other we were just joking when we made our last wills and testaments - 'course we were - and walked shakily into the first beer outlet we could find.
Zhaoxing really is a beautiful place, and it was such a relief that the place we had spent so long traveling to was looking like it was going to be worth the effort.
As you can imagine from our accounts of getting there, it is really quite an isolated place (as much as anywhere can be in china that is). It is pretty much in the middle of the Dong Autonomous Prefrecture, which is the region of
northern Guizhou that the majority of the Dong people live, and because of this, still retains much of its traditions and culture.
We wandered around trying to find some accommodation, and finally found a cheap place which promised hot showers and the possibility of washing our clothes, now long overdue, then dropped our bags off and went for some food.

The main street of Zhaoxing.

A Dhong taxi.

An old style shop.

Whiling the day away, watching life go past. I imagine things have changed a bit in his time.

Art is another thing the Dhong aren't very good at.

An aerial view of the village.

The next day we woke early, as we wanted to go trekking in the surrounding hills, and headed for the showers.
A little background on the Dhong people is required here;
The Dhong are considered expert architects. Each Dhong village is charicterised by its drum towers (basically a very large wooden echo chamber, used to amplify the drum it houses to call the villagers to the square), and its wind and rain bridges (which are what you would think they are, covered bridges to keep the wind and rain out).
Not such an achievement in itself, a tower and a bridge.... Pretty easy really, except they don't use a single nail. They are like giant 3D jigsaw puzzles, with the pieces cut to size and then put together.
They also created the sea of rice terraces you have seen in the pictures in this blog, in often very steep and rugged terrain, with amazingly complicated irrigation systems.
Pretty impressive eh? Well, they may be good architects, but they are crap at plumbing and wiring.

After finally getting the water to run, we were treated to an extremely cold shower which didn't drain properly (remember the rice terrace irrigation boys??? Put the drain at the lowest point......LOWEST POINT).
Well, even if we couldn't shower, at least we could get our clothes washed....
Enter the Magical Mystery Washing Ladies Of Zhaoxing! The Mystery being why they charge AUD$1 for every item of clothing they wash...... I suppose we could have sewn them all together, but we just bitched at them instead, and resigned ourselves to stinking for at least a few days more. Oh well!!

We set of and walked north from the town, up the valley from whence we came, following a little stone path that must have been the main route out of the village before the "road" was built and turned onto one of the access paths that the villagers use to access their rice paddies.

Martin on the old road.

An old guy we met on our walk up, smoking his pipe.
All the old Dhong men wear jackets like his.

We followed the little trails you can see, and made some of our own.

We spent the whole day wandering up and down the paths which link the terraces, trying to stay as high as possible so we could get better views. Although all of the terraces have paths leading to them so that the villagers can access them, not all of these paths link together so we spent quite some time scrambling up and down bushy hillsides and rock walls trying to follow the route we wanted. Obviously they didn't think of tourists going walking when they designed them, but it all adds to the fun, and it was a beautiful sunny day so we didn't care how long it took us.

Debating which route we should take over to a new path.

The cherry blossoms are in bloom, this one doubles as a hay storage post.
I think they wrap it around poles and compost it over winter,
then plow it into the fields in spring.

One of the terraces being composted and prepared for the next seasons crops.
Nothing was wasted, and everything recycled.... Until the plastic bag that is.

The plants growing in the field above.

We walked around to the top of the terraces in that part of the valley, and snaked our way along the edges of the fields. The air in the valley was beautiful, and filled with the scents of all the spring flowers.
There were millions and millions of white butterflies fluttering about, the air was thick with them sometimes. It made me wonder about the pre pesticide days in Europe and Australia - it was probably like that then, too.

The view from the top of the terraces you can see 3 photos up.

The same view, a little further along the path.

When we reached the top of the valley we could no further, and scrambled down a hillside on our bums to another path which lead through a pine forest and back to the village.

The path home.

Worst Bus Ride in China (part two)

2006-03-14T13:48:00.001+10:30

Sanjiang to Zhaoxing:
An exercise in patience, this trip was doomed from the beginning.

We all got up at 6am for the 6.45am bus out of Sanjiang, and staggered to the bus ticketing office in the dark with our heavy packs, still bleary eyed, and spoke to the ticket lady (the same one we had spoken to the previous day, and who had told us to come back at that time), only to be told "mei you" or don't have. You can't imagine our excitement and joy at hearing this news... but they did have the 11.30am bus. This was only a relief up until the moment when we actually saw the beast.

It was so beat up it was scary. One of the seats inside the bus was more like a rocking chair, and the actual seat board/pillow kept flying off whenever we went over really large bumps (ie. every 2 minutes, no exaggeration). The overhead luggage racks weren't attached properly at the rear (this bus obviously did this route a lot) and rattled constantly - which, bizarrely, became quite comforting after a couple of hours. There was even live chickens stuffed into the racks, just to complete the picture.

The ride was supposed to take 4.5hours but ended up taking 6.5hours. One of those hours was used moving the piles of rocks (again, from the landslides) that we would come across every 20 minutes, and probably not surprisingly, the other hour was spent waiting for a team of monkeys to fix our two burst tyres.
At one point, while trying to make room for a dump truck, the bus driver got us stuck on a rock that apparently damaged the exit door, so we had to stop again a little further on and wait while someone bashed it back into shape with a mallet.

Waiting for the tyre and roads to be fixed.

This bus ride, like all bus rides, was also conducted at breakneck speed, and where possible we overtook every slow vehicle, given the opportunity. Clearly our views and the bus drivers' views on what constituted an "opportunity" differed somewhat. Having said that though, our bus driver was excellent... the messes he would continually get us out of was truly amazing.
When not staring out of the windows with a mix of horror and awe (the scenery was beautiful), Martin, Tim and I entertained ourselves with debating which of the two bus rides were the worst, and we couldn't decide.

Some of the beautiful Dhong villages we passed along the way.

Worst Bus Ride in China (part one)

2006-03-14T13:48:00.000+10:30

Guillin to Sanjiang:
Bus ride doesn't do it justice, it could be more accurately described as an extreme sport...
Imagine something along the lines of: earthquake/mudslide surfing, in a bus, near a river, overtaking other "too slow" trucks, with live chickens stuffed into the overhead compartments and you'll be getting pretty close. If you were imagining that there was a road... then you're getting colder.

First of all, the roads were shite due to landslides after all the rain, and were being worked on by teams of construction workers every couple of k's or so. Why they didn't just tell us that the entire route was under construction I will never know. So, having commited ourselves to the bus ride, we slid from side to side across the muddy "road" (which, for a lot of the way, is right next to a river with a steep enbankment) at maximum speed, and of course, where possible, over took any vehicle deemed "too slow" by the driver.

I tried to amuse and distract myself by singing "99 bottles of beer on the wall", first in English and then tried to translate it into Mandarin... much to Tim's embarrasment and disgust.

It was absolutely, positively, 100% without a doubt, hands down the worst bus ride all of us had ever been on (in any country) in the history of everything... touch wood.

Almost getting bogged on the "road"...

Plenty of "opportunities" to over take up ahead...

"... if one of them topples and accidentally falls, there'll be 98 bottles of beer on the wall"

The Rise and Rise of the Middle Kingdom

2006-03-14T13:45:00.000+10:30

What can I say? China is an amazing place.

We have been fairly quiet on the blogging front since we arrived, partially because using computers in China is often a pain in the arse; all the menu's and pop up window's are in Chinese (a window pops up, giving you a message you cant understand, and prompts you to choose between 3 options you cant read!), and partially because almost anything you see here is worthy of going into a blog post; There is so much to write about that its almost impossible to focus on one thing!

I traveled around South East Asia and China 4 years ago, there have been changes in each country in that time, but none so much as China.

In the 11 years I lived in Adelaide I think there were one or two large buildings built in the city centre, and there really aren't that many large buildings full stop.... Chinese cities on the other hand have tons of them, hundreds sometimes, and its not uncommon for there to be the same number of large building being under construction, and there are a lot of cities in china. I'm pretty sure your not supposed to build sky scraper out of bricks though, so I'm not sure how long some of them will last!

I loved China when I came here last, and I'm loving it now. We both are. I would love to come back in another 4 years and see the differences again.

Ping-an

2006-03-07T23:22:00.000+10:30

After Yangshuo, Tim and I spent a couple of days in Ping-an to see the Dragon's Backbone Terraces... so called because of all the rice terraces on the sloping hills which supposedly look like a dragon's backbone.

Unfortunately, we couldn't see it very well due to low cloud etc., but Ping-an was very nice to walk around in itself, and we couldn't get enough of the smoked bacon done Yao style!! The Yao minority smoke the bacon about 10 times until the outside is black and it tastes really, really good.

Originally, we were planning on hiking down to Jinkeng, which is another Dhong village, but because of the shitty weather we decided to push on. In the darkness on the way home on our first day, we met an Aussie called Martin and as we are going in the same direction (and he's a cool guy) we've been travelling together ever since. Hope you like the photos though. :)

A typical Dhong style wooden house.

Tim on the path leading to the wind & rain bridge.

Me on the way up, up, up to our guest house.

Birds-eye view of Ping-an's Dhong houses.

The fabulous smoked bacon... yum!

At least it had atmosphere, if not the view.

Yangshuo

2006-03-06T20:54:00.000+10:30

We arrived in the famous Yangshuo after a reasonably problem free border crossing with our new friends Tess and Andy... finally, we had arrived in China! The only problem was, it was freezing and we didn't really have appropriately warm clothes. There was no other option but to spent lots of cash on water/windproof jackets, pants and gloves, and some longjohns and beanies.
The very next day of course, it was gorgeous and sunny and we had to dig the t-shirts out again!

Me in my new hat.

Tim infront of a temple in the side of a mountain, near our guest house.

The beginings of bao zhe (steamed buns) and jao zhe (steamed dumplings).

Bridge in the park near our guest house.

Temple on the hill, looking over Yangshuo.

After one of our many shopping expedition days, we stopped in at a bar called Mei You on the main tourist street. Mei You means "don't have" in Chinese, and they really didn't have much in the way of cheap beer (only the expensive imports surprisingly!), but we wanted to stay for the atmosphere.
It was only a little bar, but there were quite a few Chinese people in there dancing very badly to... Chinese gabba music... complete with a smoke machine. A good opportunity to make instant friends!
It turns out that the National Director of Nokia (who was very, very drunk and later got up and sang kareoke on stage) took his entire sales team on a group holiday to Yangshuo and everything was on the house. We danced with them and had a couple of beers which they thought was fantastic - some random Westeners gate-crashing their party and joining in. Their kept clinking our beers and calling us friends, which was funny. In one instance, Nokia boss clinked his beer with Tim three times which is apparently a "challenge" in China, and you have to scull the rest of your beer. I thought the challenge wasn't really fair, as Tim had a full 750ml beer, and the boss has an almost empty 365ml Sol beer - so I gave him my full 750ml beer. Tim won. Nokia boss got through about 100mls before pouring 200ml down his shirt and tie... hehehe... but major face was lost on his behalf. He recovered quickly though, and everyone else thought it was pretty funny, so it was all good.

Tim, Mr Nokia and one of his collegues at Mei You.

Yangshuo is famous for the surrounding limestone karst formations that stretch out as far as the eye can see, and there is also the Li and Yulong rivers close by with lots of little old villages scattered about the place.

On the very first day that the sun came out, Tim and I hired some bicycles and rode the 3 k's to nearby Fuli (fuli sick mate!) to see the old town, which the LP says, is hundreds of years old and has cobbled streets. I'm sick of that damn book. Fuli town was just that, a town... although we knew when we finally arrived at the "old town", because there was lots of souvenier stalls lining the cement path.

The ride back from Fuli was nice though, as it went along the Li River, and not the main highway (as the first leg of the journey did). Honestly, the whole thing wasn't worth the sore bum from the bike, but at least we got out and did something, right?

Me in front of whatever it was they were growing.

Tim on the long and winding road.

On the bike in the "old town" of Fuli.

A damn on the Li river near Fuli.

Me on the worst bike this side of Yangshuo.

The weather stayed perfect long enough for our bums to recover, and we decided to go for a bit of a trek along the Yulong river, as recommended on a fantastic website called chinabackpacker.com.

We encountered absolutely stunning scenery along the entire walk, and tried to follow the river side as much as possible. Mostly this meant walking along the ridges of farmers' crops and occasionaly along the proper path, but it made it feel like we were the only travellers in the whole region (which is always nice).

There were a couple of interesting bridges and ruins along the way, but the highlight for us (apart from the limestone karsts) was the 'Ancient Houses'... and they really were. It looked like the villagers were trying to restore some of them (there was even a place to stay there!), but we had to push on unfortunately as the light was fading.

Dragon's bridge just outside of Baisha - it was built in 1419 FYI.

The view from the top of the bridge.

Starting out on our walk...

Stopping to smell the flowers.

One of the 25 damns along the Yulong river between Baisha and Yangshuo.

Tim trying out our new waterproof boots while crossing the river.

The Wulong bridge.

The beautiful limestone karsts along the Yulong.

Some of the lovely houses in the Ancient town.

Some more gorgeous scenery... yawn. ;)

Well, well, well... who do we have here?

Not THE Great Wall, but it is pretty great.

Me in front of some of the Ancient Houses.

Fading light on our walk.

It was quite a long trek, and by the end of it, my legs were really tired and my feet hurt and we just wanted to get back to our hotel but we had another 4k's to walk in an hour before the sun left us... it's just not going to happen. However regretably, in some situations (ie. when we know the price of something and are quoted double or triple the cost), we have turned into travellers that will cut off our noses to spite our faces. So, we told three converted trackters where they could shove their ridiculous kwai prices in the time that we were limping along the road... eventually, it started to get noticitably darker, and we happened across a pack moto drivers. As we were negotiating with them (even though they quoted 15 kwai each, when we know it should only be 3!!!!), two cars with Chinese tourists sent from heaven pulled up and offered us a free lift back to Yangshuo! Hooray!! Tim even got the pleasure of turning around and giving them the ol' thumbs up and wink combo to the pissed off moto drivers... it's the simple things in life. :)

One Final Note On Vietnam...

2006-02-25T16:30:00.000+10:30

Be aware, throw away slang comments can cause unexpected results in Vietnam. For instance, avoid saying things like "Pig's Arse", or "Bollocks" in restaurants.

Cens0rsh1p

2006-02-20T16:58:00.000+10:30

One last note on Vietnam.

I don't think that we had one bad thing to say about Vietnam in our blog, which is kind of ironic, because the Vietnamese government censors it.

We could not view it at all in Vietnam. We could write posts, but not view them.

I tried to write a post about this, but it was blocked by a filter, so I would like to take this opportunity to say that Vietnam is an amazing place, and so are the Vietnamese people.

We at FlashPackers respect the need to not spread lies and dissent about the glorious leaders, so I will talk about the weather outside.

The weather out side is predominantly crap, with a strong useless wanker front coming in from the north which will dominate the conditions for the foreseeable future. The formation you can see which is leading this group of useless wankers is what is known in meteorological circles as an officious twat.
We will watch this formation closely to see how it develops, but the current forecast is for shit to be raining on the population for some time.
The low point of this front is likely to cause interference with communications.

Vietnam Wrap Up

2006-02-19T19:37:00.000+10:30

Well, we have been in Vietnam for over a month, which is not nearly enough, not even slightly, and we have been pretty slack with the blogging. But that's because we have been having too much fun to sit in front of a computer - which is a good thing :)
We leave for China in a few days (hopefully), so we thought we had better remedy the lack of posts and pictures. We have a bunch draft posts that we are working on, which will be appearing BELOW this one, so stay tuned :)

Sunburnt in Sapa

2006-02-19T18:31:00.000+10:30

Sapa is a hill station, and a long time French resort, in Northern Vietnam set in amongst majestic rolling mountains between 1,800 and 3,100 metres above the sailors. We were lucky enough to stay there for four days while we waited for our Vietnamese visa extensions, and we were blessed by unseasonaly perfect weather. Sapa is notoriously the coldest place in Vietnam, but when we were there it was warm and sunny with clear blue skies during the day (hence the subject title), atmospheric misty mornings, and at dusk, the clouds descended over mountain ridge to cover the town like a blanket.

On our first day, we went for a walk in and around Sapa, through some rice paddies and rose orchards (ie. predominately in people's backyards), and enjoyed the lovely weather. After wandering around for 2 hours, a young H'Mong lad offered to lead us through the hills (... or, we presume that's what he was trying to say... we think he may have been a couple of skin heads short of a brawl, if you catch my drift, but a friendly kid none the less), so we followed him around for about a while. He would bound up the steep slopes like a mountain goat, and we would follow him like some out of breath and unfit lame-arsed foreigners. We paused to watch some kids splashing around in one of the rice paddy terraces, and after a short time, the two little boys came running up to meet us.

They loved looking over our shoulders at their digital world we were filming, and when we turned the camera onto them, they laughed and shouted and babbled to each other. We shared some of our honey coated sesame seed snacks with them, and enjoyed the stunning views.

Tim on the balcony of our guest house, Mountain View hotel, looking over the valley.

One of the typically picturesque houses we traipsed past on our walk.

Tiered rice paddies and one curious water buffalo.

The valley view looking back towards our hotel.

Seriously, how beautiful is that?

Another shot of the valley, what a shame it's such an ugly place. ;-)

A placid buffalo with massive horns that I was worried about at the time.

I came to realise that they were walking towards us because they thought we

were going to feed them.

Me with the gorgeous backdrop, looking up towards the hotel.

Tim with the same stunning backdrop.

The front gate where we met the young Black H'Mong boy who showed us around.

Some more tiered rice paddies - you can see one of the little boys in the left hand corner, running up to meet us.

The boy on the far right lead us around, and the other two little ones came to meet us.

There are lots of ethnic minorities in Sapa and the surrounding area, particularly the Black H'Mong people but there were also a couple of Dzao women amongst them. The balcony of our guest house gave us a great bird's eye view of them all trying to sell their wares to the polite but cornered tourists. All the ethnic minorities live in nearby villages and come into Sapa to sell their beautiful embroidered blankets, pillow covers, wall hangings, belts and also some interesting jewellery. There was a constant high pitched, sing-song sound track to Sapa from the H'Mong's: "Hello! you buy blanket from me? You buy blanket from me?", they were very persistent but very cute. Then, if you did buy something from them, a Dzao woman would come up and say, "You buy from H'Mong, now you buy blanket from me? I am Dzao we are from different village... you buy from H'Mong, now you buy pillow case from me?". When we were eating lunch one day in a restaurant, the most adorable old woman in Vietnam tentatively, at first, came in and started to show us her wares. She didn't speak a word of English, but still managed to get the point across that if we took a photo of her, we had to give her 5,000 dong. It was worth it though (we secretly took video footage as well... shhhh!). :)

The sweet old Black H'Mong woman pausing in her sales pitch for a photo.

... the sales pitch continues...

I did really like that belt, but unfortunately, we only had 5,000 dong left.

On our second day, we decided to walk down to the nearby H'Mong village called Cat Cat, which is an easy 3km stroll down a well marked path. At the beginning of our journey, we bumped into two young H'Mong girls (both around 12 years old) who asked whether we were going to Cat Cat... and then just tagged along with us, much to our delight. Their English was reasonably good and so we talked about our respective families, pointed out the animals we saw along the way, asking if they ate that too, playing with them etc., but it was just really nice having Chi and Leelee accompany us.

We met the girls at the beginning of the trail to Cat Cat.

Leelee (left) and Chi (right) were our companions for the day.

Cat Cat itself wasn't all that great, but I guess we only saw the touristy part (ie. the odd stall selling blankets/pillow cases etc.) and not where the H'Mong actually live, but there was a lovely waterfall there which we admired for a while. Chi ran down to it and was shrieking with joy as she jumped from rock to rock until she reached the base of the waterfall - she would periodically turn around and wave at us and babble to Leelee.

As we were walking back up to Sapa along a sun dappled stone path, lined with palm fronds and lush greenery, Chi started to sing a H'Mong song in her beautiful voice - definitely a moment we won't ever, ever forget.

A view of one of the old stone buildings from the bridge, with a stall selling ethnic wares beneath it.

Some pictures of the lovely waterfall.

Me, totally enchanted by the girls, precariously balancing on a stone wall overlooking the waterfall.

The view on the way down to Cat Cat.

Another photo of me, Leelee and Chi on the way down to Cat Cat.

On our third day in Sapa (Wednesday), we decided to hire a moto and go for a ride around the area (an old Russian clanker with a gearbox that was noisier than the engine - and the engine was loud enough). We bought a completely useless map which had Mt Fansipan (the largest mountain by far in the area) in totally the wrong place by a looooong way, and completely omitted major roads. But not knowing where we are going has never stopped us before, and so we set off towards Lai Chau (probably).

To get to Lai Chau, you have to go over the Tram Ton pass, which at 1,900m is the highest mountain pass in Vietnam... and bugger me, it's windy. We stopped at one point to take some photos, but I was literally being blown over. To tell you the truth, I was shitting myself when we were back on the bike, because in some areas as we were getting blown around quite a bit.

The view from part of the Tram Ton pass.

Me, struggling to stand up to the strong gully winds.

Tim looking out over the pass, and probably worrying silently about our petrol situation.

After a time, we came across the silver waterfall, which is another big tourist attraction and looked like a bit of a yawn, so we kept going up the mountain. It was only after we stopped to check the map (a true exercise in futility) a little further on, that we also double-checked the fuel and were slightly worried to see that there was only a couple of litres left. Now, we probably would have been fine, but you always feel uneasy when you have less than a full or near full tank. We decided to push on to Lai Chau, in neutral gear with the engine off to conserve petrol (it was all down hill anyway, all 30k's of it!), and hope they had a petrol station there so we could make it back up the mountain. It all worked out in the end sort of... we bought fuel at double the value from an elated farmer (probably 2 kms short of the Lai Chau petrol station), and made it back to Sapa before dark. On the trip back up the mountain, I took lots of video footage and photos from the back of the bike - it was truly, truly stunning. :)

Not only was the view stunning, one of the local trees was in bloom, so the fresh mountain air tinged with exotic floral scents. I could try to describe it to you all, but it would just cheapen it... if you could bottle it, you would be an instant millionaire (and I don't mean in Vietnamese dong). :)

Once we arrived back in Sapa, we drove straight to Baguette & Chocolate, which is another amazing business set up for, and run by, former street kids to give them a leg up in the service industry. I can tell you from experience, there is nothing better than coming in from a long ride on a bike, with freezing hands and face, and drinking one of their mugs of hot chocolate (made from real chocolate). Hhmmmmm....

On the Thursday, we hired the bike again for the morning as we were heading back to Hanoi by overnight train that night. We spent the day roaming around the surrounding country side trying to get into the ethnic villages by taking the odd dirt track. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't, but mainly we were just awestruck by the scenery. I was also awestruck by this ridiculous dog with a humiliating haircut... poor thing... have a look for yourselves!

I think the poor thing knows how stupid it looks.

Right before our bus to Lau Cai was leaving, I bought some of the beautiful earrings that the H'Mong girls all wear... one from Leelee and one from Chi. We ended up paying way more than what they were worth, but it's easily justified by the time we spent with them the previous day. Both of the girls were being very sweet and clinging onto my arms and saying to Tim and I things like, "Will you remember me? If you come back will you remember our names?". We were both sad to leave Sapa, and I would love to go back through the area some time soon.

Hanging Around in Hanoi

2006-02-07T20:42:00.000+10:30

Hanoi has had some serious funk rubbed on it.

After a long and reasonably pleasant over night train ride from Hue (which was delayed by 4.5 hours), we finally arrived in Hanoi on Saturday the 5th of February, very early in the morning. We chose to stay at Thu Giang guest house which is run by a friendly family and their five daughters and is set down a quiet little lane way in the Old Quarter - the aptly named ancient section of the city, with a mix of French colonial, Chinese, and old Vietnamese influenced architecture.

A typical street in Hanoi's old quarter.

A typical French colonial style house.

Tim, with one of the many temples scattered around the old quarter in the background.

Part of the ornate doors from the temple that sits on Hoan Kien lake.

The plaster dogs that guard the ornate doors from the temple that sits on Hoan Kien lake
... in plaster, as in life.

The Turtle tower that sits gloomily at the other end of the lake from the plaster dogs, that
guard the temple on Hoan Kiem, in the old quarter.

Hanoi's old quarter is where all the funk is rubbed. It is basically an intricate network of laneways stuffed full of little shops selling everything from carved gravestones, to mattresses, to tourist crap, to religious paraphenalia, to bia hoi (fresh beer... more on that later), to ladders, to cheap and tasty Vietnamese food.
Since the 13th century, each of the streets were named after what was sold on that particular street, and while the products have changed, their names have remained. So our guest house lane way, was just off "silk" road and nearby was "string instruments", "cotton" and "chicken" roads. We have a favourite coffee place that we always go to (serving great coffee with sweet milk and is furnished with 'midgets revenge' tables & chairs spilling out onto the pavement), which is at the intersection of "fans" and "wooden bowls". There is nothing better than sitting with the locals and watching the ridiculous driving spectacle that is moto vs taxi drivers in Vietnam, whilst trying to use the small amount of phrases that we have learnt.

This is the intersection at "fans" and "wooden bowls"

I would like to be able to tell you all that we visited some of the many interesting museums and galleries in Hanoi but we were just happy wandering around and soaking up the atmosphere. It's the kind of place you could live in, really, and we have met many an ex-pat who has set themselves up in a plush apartment by teaching English at exclusive schools, with plenty of cash to spare.
One definite benefit of living here would be that you could go for your daily coffee fix, and get your food shopping done at the same time... because if you wait long enough, a woman will walk by selling almost everything on your list. Truly, a lazy persons' dream come true.

Then of course, there is the food. It's varied and fantastic. We have a favourite noodle place that serves a huge steaming bowl of beef & rice noodles for $1US - add lots of chili sauce and hey presto! - a hearty lunch for bugger all. This morning, Tim and I ate at a different shop and tried this soup that we had seen throngs of Vietnamese pigging out on... it turns out it's actually a rice porridge with fried garlic, mint and... eel! Very tasty, but probably not the best thing to eat first thing in the morning!

Sweet and sour pork ribs with Tiger beers - so good!!

Instead of paying between 10,000 and 15,000 dong for a bottle of beer, Tim and I would often go to bia hoi stalls where you can get a pint for as little as 2,000 dong. In Hanoi, the quality of the bia hoi is much better than in Saigon, so it costs 4,000 dong per pint - which is around 30 cents Aussie! Bia hoi is sold everywhere here, but only until about 10.30pm, maybe midnight if there's still lots of people there.

These are two different bia hoi stalls are directly opposite each other... perfect.

A beer snacks (ie. dishes for boozing) menu at another one of the bia hoi stalls we stopped at
... chicken's chitterling cock's testicles, anyone?

On Monday the 20th of February we will be heading up to Nanning in China (another overland border crossing - I can't wait!!) and we are very excited about that, but at the same time, quite sad at leaving Vietnam.

On that note, if you happen to be heading into China from Hanoi, we highly recommend exchanging dong into yuan at the jewellery stores here, as they obviously don't pay as much attention to the exchange rate... as much as, say, banks would. Yesterday, Tim realised, while on the internet, that the yuan had increased in value over the previous hour. So we raced out and found the first unsuspecting jeweller that we could, and exchanged a considerable amount of dong into Chinese yuan at better than market rates!

Me in my new hat... nice, huh?

Tet in Hoi An

2006-02-07T20:36:00.000+10:30

We arrived in Hoi An, just in time for Tet, on the night of the 28th of January after a long bus ride from Nha Trang (a complete shit hole which gets good reviews for some reason). The town was chockers with people everywhere buying last minute gifts, flowers and of course food for Tet. It was a really vibrant atmosphere, which we couldn't participate in unfortunately as we were so tired... we figured there would be more of this kind of celebration over the next couple of days.
Sadly, this was not the case, and over the next four days Hoi An was basically a ghost town as most of the restaurants and shops closed. In some ways, it was a great time to visit Hoi An because we could wander around the UNESCO World Heritage listed town and take photos of all the old buildings and homes.

One of the many beautiful old lane ways.

Deserted streets on the Tet holiday.

These two kids were dancing and playing with a mini dragon costume in the streets,
they put on a real show for the camera!

We spent a couple of nights at Minh Ah Ancient guest house, right next to the bustling (but closed for Tet) markets. It's a beautiful old Chinese style place, run by a family, and we had a room with a little 'midgets revenge' balcony, replete with little 'midgets revenge' table and chairs, that looked over a lovely courtyard with a well. This is where we enjoyed our Tet celebration breakfast, which I detailed in the post titled, Chuc Mung Nam Moi.

The front of Minh Ah guest house, with the Tet tree for good luck.

It was always a struggle to get onto the balcony, but we enjoyed lots of coffees on it anyway.

Tet celebration breakfast - Chuc Mung Nam Moi!

Hoi An is also famous for tailoring suits and you can even get shoes made to fit! I couldn't resist, and ended up getting some flat shoes with go faster stripes in a red chinese silk pattern made for me... I love them. We were both looking into getting some suits made up for our new jobs in London, but the tailors all had a week off due to Tet, so we couldn't in the end.

"... there's no place like home, there's no place like home..."

Quite appropriately in the new year of the dog, we stumbled across the cutest dog in existence called Lulu owned by a local family... I'm sure they didn't mind us playing with it every time we walked past their house, after all, foreigners are lucky aren't they?!? Here's a photo of me holding her, but it doesn't really do it justice - she was a little ball of soft, fluffy, wiggling fat. :)

Aawwww....

Just as we were leaving Hoi An, we came across a couple of awesome restaurants that served authentic Vietnamese food at seriously cheap prices. Of course, we couldn't go there before because of everything closing over bloody Tet, but we did get to experience a couple of their set 4 course lunches which were delicious. One of these places was Cafe 96, and it also ran some excellent cooking courses that we couldn't do (Tet!!) but looked like great fun, especially considering you could chose which taste sensations you wanted to learn to make from their menu.

The owner of Cafe 96 was very kind to us, and the food was excellent.

Apparently, every year, the river swells and floods all the homes and shops facing it
... including Cafe 96. It's nice and peaceful in this photo though.

A particular Hoi An specialty is Cau Lau - thick egg noodles in special stock, with pork and softened bean shoots, plus fresh mint and lettuce. You can only get the real thing in Hoi An as they get the water for the stock from a particular well that has a dead pig in it to flavour the water. Maybe not... but they do always use the water from that well.

We spent most of our time wandering around looking at the beautiful architecture... here are some more examples of it. Atmospheric Hoi An was one of my/our/everyone's favourite places in Vietnam and we heartily endorse it!

Re Spreak Engrish, No Probrem Numba 1

2006-02-07T20:33:00.001+10:30

Hey you, you come Vietnam. You come Vietnam, you go shop.

Re got many many fashion shop, you look, you buy.

You go velly fashion shop, this shop velly, velly good, you look many fashion, I reccomen you go to:

You find velly velly fashion.

This shop so good, they open new shop... little brother shop:

You look our velly fashion clothes, we have all good make, from all big famous city. You wear name of city on jacket, you look velly velly cool.
Start spreading the news! You want to be part of something? New Roerk, New Roerk!

Or you can buy some hi tech clothe, we have clothe of the north farce. These not copy. You can read back of sock packet, see the high tech sock, these sock made by a kind of high tech, lead the multi-functionalartificial:

Relax one's efforts properly, avoud taking off loose.
Design nette dly,Make the weat, the steam is got rid of foot.
Tighten up and design,Aroid take off and out of shape loosing.
Thicken and weave designing,Buffer the shoes inboard wall and double leged friction.

See. We no have the single leged friction sock in Vietnam. Make the weat, make the weat. Steam got rid of foot.

Do the charicteristic rapidly. Have good arranging the sweat. Dry and comfortable and comfortable.

We not forget explains to wash either.

You not forget the high fashion Vietnam. Even our tiger have high fashion and wear the makeup when go out to tiger tranny club.

When you done with the shopping you can get food.
There many good food in Vietnam, but we velly like noodle soup called Pho. You silly big nose westener say this word like "fho", but this not right, you supposed to say "fah".
You can practice with this picture with name of shop. You say out loud name of shop and learn speak ploperly:

Pho Cu. "Fah Cu".... "Fah Cu".... "Fah Cu"....
You know now silly big nose westener?

This shop also velly plopular. Open new shop, "Fah Cu 2".

When you eat this shop you get free pack of tissue. We only make best tissue in Vietnam. Best quality ingredient. You see yourself.

100% Virgin Pulp. See, velly pure. Only have pulped virgins inside.

Also velly strong, and velly absorbant. 10 pulls per packet.

You see now? Silly big nose.

Phu Quoc, ya Basseh

2006-02-07T20:33:00.000+10:30

Phu Quoc (try saying that 10 times really really fast), is an island in the Gulf of Thailand, south of Vietnam. Well, to be accurate, it's south of Cambodia, but it's part of Vietnam (the Cambodians don't feel the same way though, perhaps understandably!).
None of that really matters though, what does matter is that we flew down there for 5 days, and got to look at the island before development and tourism take off.

We flew down about a week before Tet, and the flights were filling up fast with people returning home to visit relatives.
We mistakenly thought that this would mean that the hotels would be full, and decided to book a hotel over the phone - but hey, it was early and we were hung over. People going home to visit relatives, stay with their relatives, not in hotels.
There are only 8 places to stay on the island, all on the same stretch of beach, and we started ringing numbers listed in the Lonely Planet (hereafter referred to as the LP, Emergency Toilet Paper - ETP, or Should be Helpful In a Toilet Emergency - SHITE), we accepted a room in the first place that answered.

The LP describes it as follows:
The Thousand Stars Resort.
There's a beautiful beach here, with delightful plaster animals (not live ones, for a change) welcoming guests along the entry path. The beachfront restaurant is a superb place for drinks or a seafood dinner at sunset.

The FlashPacker Guide differs from this description:
The Thousand Stars Resort:
This monument to bad taste occupies what would have been a nice stretch of beach if the Thousand Stars Resort, the family that owns it, and all of their ancestors had never existed.
The pointless ugliness of the deformed plaster "animals" lining the drive way is only exceeded by the plaster downs syndrome dolphins on the beach. Whoever it was that thought that erecting giant plaster replicas of the Sydney Opera House, the Petronas Towers and Bangkok's Emerald Temple would be a nice addition to a tropical island beach resort should have their arse painted red and be let loose in a cage full of sex starved baboons.
Should you be unfortunate enough to find yourself there, our advice is to check out immediately, walk 1 kilometer south along the beach to the Beach Club (taking care to avoid the used needles and other rubbish that the Thousand Stars haven't bothered to clean up), and stay there.

This is exactly what we did. We spent 2 hours at Thousand Stars, and that is 2 hours of my life I will never get back.

The Beach Club is definitely a great place to spend a lazy few days. There is a clean beach with lots of deck chairs, large bungalows with all the mod cons and a thatched roof, and good food. Its run by an English expat and his Vietnamese wife.
Its the last of the 8 resorts as you head south down the west coast of the island, all there is after that is a 20 kilometer stretch of undeveloped beach dotted with little fishing hamlets like the one you can see below.
You can't see the cute rattan huts in the picture, but there were usually 8 or 10 of them in each hamlet, and that was about it: Huts, Boats and Beach.

cute little round boats the fishermen use to get out to their boats

It was Traci's birthday on the day we arrived, so as soon as she was out of earshot, I snuck off and asked the kitchen staff to go to the market to buy us some seafood for dinner (blue swimmer crabs and giant sized prawns).
We lay in sun loungers on the beach and drank beer, listened to music (DJ Kicks: Nightmares On Wax - do your ears a favour and get it), went swimming, and generally just chilled out in the sun.
Later in the afternoon we went into the main town on the island so that Trace could ring her parents, and while she was on the phone I walked around trying to find a place to buy some candles so I could make some kind of birthday cake. This was a lot harder than you might think, even though I'm sure that nearly every shop I went into sold them - try miming a candle and see how far it gets you.
Finally a young lad in one of the shops got my mime, and understood birthday, but said they didn't have any. Fortunately an old lady in the shop heard the lad telling the owner that I wanted birthday candles for my girlfriend and thought the idea was wonderful, she flashed me a toothless grin, grabbed my arm, and walked me to a shop that had some. Vietnam wins the cute old lady prize hands down.

I couldn't find a cake. I'm sure there were loads of them around, but even with my candles, the mime didn't work - even when singing happy birthday. Perhaps my karaoke/charades skills need some work!
We got back to the Beach Club and I had a brainwave. I headed down the beach and found a green coconut, chopped off the bottom so it would sit flat and dug a small hole in the top for the candle.

Pen and Mark

We sat watching the sunset with really nice couple we had met, Mark and Pen from England (we ended up sharing more than a few beers and fun times), and waited for our food to come out.

When the food did eventually did come out, I carried the candle out to our table by the beach. There was so much of food that we invited Pen and Mark to join us. We sat there for hours picking crabs to bits and drinking beers.

We spent the whole of the next day laying on the beach nursing hangovers..... But I could think of worse things to be doing :)

The next two days were spent exploring the island on a rented bike. We drove up to the tip of the island to a seafood restaurant that had been recommended to us, and its pretty much the same story in that direction too: miles and miles of deserted tropical beaches. It took us about 2 hours to travel the 30ks, we were stopping that often to look at everything.

There are lots of old decaying boats on the beaches. Really gives the place a desert island feel

The restaurant was in a cove on the north western tip of the island, overlooking Cambodia. We sat in a little wooden shack on the beach looking at the sea and ordered more crab, this time stir fried with fresh tamarind, palm sugar, and a few other spices. We also ordered some black king fish fillets which were served with a pepper dipping sauce made from Phu Quoc grown pepper.
I cant remember having ever tasted crab that good.

The islands you see in the top of the picture are Cambodian

The view from our table

Crab, fish, beer, rice. AUD$4.
Views, priceless.

The next day was pretty much a carbon copy of the last, but heading south, to a white powdery sand beach, and another beachside seafood restaurant. We ordered (yes you guessed it).... crab with tamarind! But this time we got to pick our own, fishing them out of a tank.
I think the local population of crabs will take years to recover from our visit.

Yes, we brought some beer coolers with us. I know the flag thing is tacky, but it's better than warm beer

It's definitely the best island we've been to in SE Asia... we miss it already.

Hue

2006-02-07T20:27:00.000+10:30

Don't. Basically.

I'm sure there are some redeeming features about the place. We didn't actually see the fort for instance, and I'm sure that's nice.

The FlashPacker guide to the Galaxy has this to say about Hue:
We don't think its a coincidence that Hue and Huda (Hue's local beer) both sound like noises you make when your throwing up.

HHHHuuuuuueeeeeeee... HHHHuuuuuuuuddddaaaaa.

Chuc Mung Nam Moi! Happy New Year!

2006-01-29T16:51:00.000+10:30

We are having a fantastic time in Vietnam, and are now in Hoi An which is in the central coast area. It's gorgeous here and is actually a UNESCO world heritage site due to the Chinese influenced houses and buildings in the old town. We're having an awesome time just wandering around looking at them and taking some photos.

Today is Tet, which is the biggest day of the year for the Vietnamese. It's a celebration of the first day of their New Year and everyone's birthday (they don't have individual birthdays as we do in western countries). People pay off all of their debts and paint their houses, honor their dead relatives (and include them in the festivities as guests), they all wear new clothes and have special festive food with their families. Red is a lucky colour for them, and we have heard lots of stories from travellers saying that some people were giving away cans of coke, 10 000 dong notes and other red items as a way of getting good luck.
The oddest part of Tet however, is that everyone has their birthday on the same day, which is a cause for great celebration but can also be quite bizarre. For example, if a baby was born one day before Tet, then the next day it would actually be considered a two year old. This is because it is counted as one year in the womb (even though, as we all know, you're only in there for 9 months... I guess they don't really worry about the other unaccounted for 3 months) and then the next day is Tet, when it's everyone's birthday!!

We are staying in a beautiful little guest house called Minh Ah Ancient Guest House, right next to the markets (which are closed today & tomorrow for Tet), and it's a really old Chinese style house.
On the first day of the new year, it's very important for each Vietnamese family to invite people who are wealthy, healthy and influential into their homes as it is thought that they will bring good luck to the home for the coming year.
So it was a real honor to be the first people officially invited by the owners of the guest house to share their first meal of the new year. The traditional festive breakfast included: sticky rice that you added crushed nuts and sugar to; a solid sticky rice and green bean concoction that had been steamed for 20 hours in a rolled up banana leaf that you ate with pickled vegetables and chillies; a sponge cake (baked by their grandmother); little biscuits with meat in them and lots of ginger tea. At the end of the meal they brought out some candied coconut and ginger pieces, and some little red sticky balls of shredded ginger and lemon (very good) and chocolates.

For the rest of the day, we wandered around the little town taking photos and calling out "Chuc Mung Nam Moi!" (pronounced 'chook moong nam moy') to every Vietnamese person that walked or rode past and watch their faces split into a huge grin. We had to stop calling out to people on bicycles though, as we almost caused a couple of accidents as the cyclist would whip their heads around in our direction and then narrowly miss cycling into an oncoming moto.
It was also really nice seeing whole families all dressed up in their new clothes - often all on the back of the same moto - on their way to some Tet commitment or another.

Later on that night, we caught up with our mates from Adelaide for dinner and drinks at a couple of cheap joints around town... all in all a great day. :)

Food... ahhhhh the food

2006-01-20T17:15:00.000+10:30

Note to waistline: prepare to compromise... what once was will be no more.

We thought the food in Thailand was good, we knew the food in Cambodia was not, but we were not prepared for the variety and quality of Vietnamese food!

Since we have arrived in Vietnam we have thoroughly enjoyed a whole range of dishes and have been disappointed by none.

We've delved into overgrown snails stuffed with meat (pork and snail) and steamed in their shells with two strips of lemongrass wrapped around them that, when pulled, bring the meat out... you then wrap them in mulberry, mint and corriander leaves and then dip into the choc nam (see photo above).
We've eaten coutless bowls of pho bo (beef soup) - the breakfast dish that built a nation.
We've eaten tapioca and rice flour cakes filled with dried shrimp, fish paste and other unidentified mouthwateringly sweet fillings that you dip in Vietnamese soy sauce.
We are addicted to Vietnamese coffee (the beans are apparently roasted in butter) and which is served with condensed milk. It's become so normal that we prefer sweet milk over normal milk.
We had a delicious raw beef and lemon salad.
We have also devoured plates and plates of crab cooked in fresh tamarind while on Phu Quoc island, which gave the crab a sticky honey kind of flavour, aswell as grilled king prawns with a pepper/salt/lemon dip.

All of it has been made with fresh ingredients, beautifully presented and above all else, absolutley delicious.

They are going to have to roll us over the Friendship pass into China.

Good morning Vietnam

2006-01-18T21:26:00.000+10:30

We didn't actually get a chance to say good morning Vietnam on the day we arrived, even though the bus from Phnom Penh left at 7am (this is Cambodian time though, we didn't get out of Phnom Penh until about 8:30) and its only about 160-200ks from Phnom Penh to the Vietnamese border, it took bloody ages.
We got onto the bus, and were pleasantly surprised by the fact that the bus was not full (they are always too full, every seat taken and heaps of bags and cargo), we got good seats and plenty of room...... Then the bus stopped and we were herded into another one which was already pretty much full, and we ended up sitting next to strangers. I got chatting to the guy next to me, Noah, who turned out to be from Blackwood, a suburb of Adelaide, and a place that I had lived in for many years. He introduced us to his friends Tom and Samara who were sitting across from us, and we had been chatting for a while when Tom said "Haven't we met before?", this is not unusual for Adelaide - after all, its not a big place, but this turned out to be a bit more than that.
We had met them a few months before at the Appocathary (an Adelaide wine bar) where we had stopped off for a few drinks after our anniversary dinner a few months ago. We got talking to them and chatted about the South East Asian holiday they were heading off on around Christmas time, we drank and chatted for a while, and ended the night saying something like "Maybe we will see you on the road some time", which is exactly what happened!
Needless to say, we we all a bit weirded out, and decided to have a drink later that night when we got to Saigon.
Traci and I left our hotel to go and look for the bar we agreed to meet in, the Long Phi (I wanted to have some drinks and a Long Pee in the Long Phi). The bar turned out to be in front of our hotel, but the Lonely Planet map was wrong, and we walked in the opposite direction for a few K's. On our way back, we walked past a bar, and I found myself staring at a girl sat out the front who looked familiar, and I was right. It turned out to be Emma Phythian, someone I had known in Adelaide for about 8 years. Shocked, we sat down and had a drink, telling her that this wasn't the first time this had happened to us today, when Emmas friend who was sitting at the table with us suddenly jumped up and shouted "Oh my God!" as one of her friends from Adelaide walked past.

We spent the rest of the night wondering who else we were going to run into!

Traffic law(lessness) in Cambodia

2006-01-15T16:25:00.000+10:30

Traffic law(lessness) is a curious thing in Cambodia. We are constantly doing things wrong. But now, thanks to the English translation of the rare "Cambodian Traffic Law Booklet", we have been able to correct our erroneous behaviour.

Traffic lights: The beautiful colours designed for spectator entertainment. If you are lucky you might see one change colour. Stopping to observe colour change awards you good luck in your next life. Stopping in not compulsory.

White line in middle of road: A reminder of general direction to travel along roads, lines are to be followed. They are not (as some countries would like us to believe) there to divide traffic. You may use as much road as you need into oncoming traffic.

Zebra crossings: A very nice pattern, don't you think. We used up the excess paint making these because we saw some on American TV. Tourists may attempt to cross the road on our nice patterns. This doesn't mean you have to slow down or stop. Maintain speed and dodge the crazy big nose. They have mental problems.

Vehicle indicators: A design fault that affects every modern vehicle, indicator use is on individual choice. Having beautiful buzzing, noises is highly recommended, as this hypnotizes big noses and makes them spend more. Tunes are even better. They make mentally ill big noses seek you for their journey and tip you in (USD).

Merging with the main traffic flow: Not really sure what it means. Some foreign idea. Maybe about coming out of side road. If coming out of side road, donÂt look at anyone; remain in your own little world. Other traffic is sure to slow or stop to avoid you. May the force be with you.

Traffic flow: Never heard of it, So just drive where you want, when you want, if a jam is caused by your 10-point turn just smile.

Speed signs: We think the French left these behind. They make interesting reading and a great tool for practicing numbers in foreign languages. They are in no way related to traffic speed. Please ignore.

Recommended traffic speed: Driving as slow as possible in your highest gear indicates to the world how wonderful a person you are. We recommend strongly each individual decides his or her preferred speed. Road + footpaths: Where roads become jammed, footpaths are an easy alternative, as footpaths are to be viewed as a small road anyway. Pedestrians have no right of way when vehicles use small roads (footpaths).

Accidents: Everyone is expected to watch those who have crashed. We prefer all other vehicle users to stop and form as large a crowed as possible. Where big noses are involved, money is to be demanded immediately regardless of fault.

Horns: On the spot fines are now being given to owners whose horns don't work. It is compulsory to test your horn every 30 seconds to avoid fines. They also make an interesting sound that keeps passengers awake.

Finally please remember not to pay attention or look at any other traffic when driving then you don't have to worry about it and you will be happier.

Observing these simple rules will hopefully help you to avoid the mistakes we have made, should you find yourself in Cambodia.

Phnom Penh

2006-01-13T16:02:00.000+10:30

I know that both Tim and I have written at length about how much we loved Siem Reap... but I'm going to have to add Phnom Penh to the list too. In actual fact, I think I'm just in love with Cambodia full stop. It is easy to understand how so many ex-pats arrive in Cambodge as a stop on their SE Asia route and end up living here for years and years.

We've been calling Phnom Penh home for a week now, and as per usual, have wasted no time in establishing ourselves in the ex-pat scene (read: bar). I refer specifically to Fubar which we stumbled upon on our first night in the lake district, and from which we have been stumbling away from ever since. We have even decided to extend our stay in Cambodia by a couple of days in order to take in a bit of crab racing to be held at this classy establishment on Saturday afternoon.

So far, we have had a great time eating, lounging, site-seeing and drinking in various locations around Phnom Penh. One place of particular note is the Friends restaurant, just north of the National Museum. I can not recommend this place enough, and will go so far as to say that you are not allowed to come to Phnom Penh and not dedicate a night to it... that would be a glaring omission.

Let me explain. It is a tapas bar that has in excess of 20 different items on the menu (plus a changing weekly specials menu), which are all equally delicious. The last time Tim and I dined there, we ordered: chinese spinach and cheese filled ravioli in a tomato sauce (divine); baby bok choy and mushrooms in oyster sauce; sauteed squid with green peppercorns and onions (delicious); spicy beef and chili mexican pockets with a tomato salsa (surprisingly delicate); then another serve of the spinach & cheese ravioli (it was that good).
We washed all this down with a glass (or four) of some lovely Chilean merlot (and a glass of Chilean chardonnay), and a daiquiri (each)... we were nice and toasty by the end of it.
The most amazing thing about this place is that everyone from the floor staff to the chefs are ex-street kids who have been professionally trained in hospitality to give them a new lease on life. The Friends establishment comes into contact with over 1,000 children every day and the project also includes workshops, an educational and vocational training center, health care and HIV/AIDS services, and street and squatter based services that fulfill the needs of the homeless and vulnerable children and adolescents.
Not surprisingly, the founder, Mr Sebastien Marot, has received an Order of Australia for services to humanity. If you would like to find out more about this fantastic project, you can visit their website: http://www.streetfriends.org/

Tomorrow, will be regretfully leaving Cambodia (but we'll be back!) for Vietnam via an eight hour bus ride and another dance with the border guards, so wish us luck...

The Ugly

2006-01-08T20:47:00.000+10:30

As I have said previously. There is some real ugliness lurking under the surface of Cambodian society....

To set the scene:
It's Christmas day, Traci and I had been sitting in the Funky Munkey bar since about 6pm, chatting to people and generally enjoying ourselves. We finally spilled out at about 1am, a little drunk, and started to walk back to the hotel we were staying in, about 800 metres away.
40 metres from the pub door, an american bloke stopped us and asked if there was anything happening, so we sent him down the street to the Funky Munkey, and turned the corner of the street.

About 10 seconds later two drunk young Cambodian lads on a moto (110cc honda scooter), came round the corner that the Funky Munkey is on, 50 metres behind us. Unfortunately for them, they came round the corner way, way to fast. They clipped the curb and flew into a concrete lamp post.
The poor american bloke we had sent up the street with the promise of friendly people and beer watched the whole thing, and ran into the bar to get help. Trixie ran out with some of her Cambodian staff, and a customer (steve, who used to be an army paramedic in the vietnam war).

Mac and Trixie (the bar owners) were planning on shutting the bar and heading out for a christmas drink, but ended up trying to save a couple of lives instead.

Both of the victims were in a pretty bad way, one with part of his scull missing, but they tried their best. Trixie sent for towels and they tried to stop the bleeding.

Four police men turned up, and just stood around watching Trixie and Steve. Trixie was screaming at them to help, to radio for an ambulance... anything. She asked her staff to translate, but to no avail. She ended up getting her mobile and handing it to one of her staff to call for an ambulance. While here back was turned one of the police men bent down and started pulling at one of the injured guys watches, trying to pull it off his arm. When she yelled at him for doing that, he just tried to pull the guys gold necklace off instead.

Needless to say, everyone involved was pretty pissed off, and the Christmas cheer vanished. The ambulance turned up, and roughly threw the two dying lads in the back, as you would a sack of potatos, then drove off.

The police then realised that they could just take the moto, and promptly dissapeared with it. Im sure it was in the second hand bike market the next day.

Needless to say, the two lads died. According to Steve, the ex vietnam war paramedic, its unlikely that they would have lived even if they had crashed in front of a hospital in England or America, but still, it makes you think of how cheaply life is viewed here sometimes... and really thats what it boils down to, their lives were cheap because they couldnt afford the hospital bills.

The Smells of Assia

2006-01-08T20:18:00.000+10:30

We have been sharing our experiences with all of you through this blog, but I have come to realise that it just doesn't cut it. Google, who provide the blogspot service, have integrated many tools to enrich blogs including photos, video, sound and mobile connectivity, but none of these help, and nothing will until they allow the transmission of smells via the web (perhaps they could call it Poogle in Asia).

In light of this, and because I want you to get the most from our blog, I will try and give you some instructions so you can recreate the smells of Asia in the comfort of your own home or workplace.

Firstly, crap on your floor, as close to where you are currently sitting as you can (in your chair is also fine). If you can, get your family members or work colleagues to crap in your vicinity too.

Secondly, go outside and find a bin. The best kind of bins, which will provide you with that authentic Asian flavour, will be full of organic material (preferably fruit) and will have been sitting in the searing heat of the summer sun for about 3 weeks. Bring the bin back to where you are sitting and empty it around the place (making sure to get some between your toes). Now your almost there.

Lastly, and this one may be hard to pull off, you need a halitosis sufferer. It's unlikely that you will be able to find a sufferer who has put as much effort into their condition as the examples readily found in Asia, but even a halitosis beginner will give you the idea.
My suggestions are to find a bum, tramp or derro (depending on your locality) and lure him to your place with the promise of food or alcohol. You could also try old peoples homes, or taxi ranks (funny that they are called ranks really, as that is often what they are).
Once you have your bum, persuade him to bring his face as close to yours as you can stand and say "Hey Mister, Tuk Tuk? Moto? Hey, Hey...... Mister".
For the true Asian experience, he must never stop saying this for more than about 5 seconds.

Enjoy.

Cambodia: Ends of the Earth?

2006-01-08T16:04:00.000+10:30

We recently watched a documentary on Cambodia, playing up the Khmer Rouge presence and how it's still part of everyday life... lurking in the shadows.
In part of the doco, the reporter was travelling down the Bassac river, proclaiming that "there were still pirates in these parts" and how dangerous it all was - the boat driver didn't think so though, he had his entire extended family on the boat and had obviously done that trip many many times before.
Then the reporter travelled up North to see Pol Pot's grave site (they burned him on a rubbish pile by the way) and showed how heavily guarded by police this area of the country was. The reporter was saying things like, "We're not sure if we're going to get through these barriers... as these policemen are all ex-Khmer Rouge officials, but we've brought gifts of cigarette packets to pave our way... but they could turn on us at any second..." while hunching down in the car seat. Then he got out of the car with the driver and the interpreter, and went cautiously up to one of those scary policemen to interview him - unfortunately for the reporter, the policeman was still smiling broadly and bowing with his hands together in the position of utmost respect, as thanks for the gift and welcome to the area.

The funniest thing about this documentary? We were watching it in Siem Reap (only 50 kms away from some of the areas he was talking about) on satellite tv, in our guest house which also included features like: hot shower, a western toilet, fridge and double bed for US$8.

Cambodia: Ends of the Earth? Yeah, right!!!

Taking the Time to Smell the Roses (a.k.a., the Good)

2006-01-07T18:20:00.000+10:30

There is certainly something to be said for staying in one place for a couple of weeks.
We were originally going to be in Siem Reap for just 4 days to see the temples, and while they were amazing (more on this shortly), we're so glad we stayed for 3 weeks to smell the proverbial roses.
For starters, you get to know some of the locals, which can lead to anything from being invited to someone's home in their village, to being charged local prices instead of foreigner prices.

Most tourists come to Siem Reap to see the awesome Angkor temples, and quite rightly so as they are absolutely incredible. We bought a 3 day pass (US$40 each!! bloody hell!!) and put it to good use by thoroughly exploring about 10 temples in the area. To give you an idea though, in Cambodia there is thought to be in excess of 2,700 temples (most of them scattered around Siem Reap), so we only really just scratched the surface.
Angkor Wat is obviously the jewel in the crown and was once the centre piece of a massive empire that, in it's day, is thought to have been home to one million Khmers - while London, at this same time, had a population of around 100,00 people. Much has been written about Angkor Wat but I think that probably the only way you could properly appreciate it is to come and visit. Here are some photos for you in the meantime.

Another one of the benefits of staying longer is that you get to know some of the locals... and we did with Sokpal Sam (and his friend Sinat, a.k.a. snake) who worked at an internet joint near our guest house. He very kindly invited us to his home in a village a little way out of Siem Reap, so on boxing day, Tim and I went to our new friend's village to meet his family and have lunch.
Sokpal's entire extended family was there to come and meet us and they cooked us amok fish, which is a delicious and traditional Cambodian dish, as well as tasty BBQ chicken. We brought some fruit from the market (bananas, pineapple and some pomellos) as a gift - as well as a carton of Angkor beer and... some vegemite for them to taste, which we billed as traditional Aussie food. Some of them loved it, but others were just being polite. I watched Sokpal's mum start with a large piece of bread with vegemite, and after tasting it, she quickly whittled it down to nothing by giving it in parts to one of the kids who happily ate it.
It was really nice seeing how they live and very touching that they welcomed us so warmly. Obviously they were as curious about Tim and I as we were about them, and we tried to communicate as best we could despite the language barrier - often using Sokpal to translante as his English is very good.
Even though they are comparatively very poor... they lived on a farm in a beautiful area with lots of animals, and their entire family (who live in several houses right next to each other) obviously share a very close bond.

All the men (apart from Sokpal's dad) as well as Tim and I, sat around this massive table and ate the food. Traditionally, the women don't eat with the men, they eat in the kitchen, similar to other countries, but on this day they sat on the periphery and watched us. Everyone at the table shared the carton of beer we brought with gusto and lots of "jol moi!" (which means cheers).
There was also the cutest baby in the known universe there - who is Sokpal's nephew - and we all played with him and took photos. :)

While we were in Siem Reap, we met up with our friend Rob who, very kindly, showed us around the area and gave us the lowdown in general.
Some of the best things we did was hire bicycles or motos and tour around the villages surrounding the town. Riding through rice fields and past little bamboo homes on stilts squatting on top of the river, with palm trees and farm animals sharing the vista, was a beautiful thing to see. Watching the people going about their daily life bathing, cleaning, working, eating and just generally being together was another major highlight. As we rode past each house, if there were any young kids out the front they would either wave frantically or yell out "HELLO!!" or "BYE BYEE" which was very cute and made us feel like minor celebrities.

Arrival

2006-01-05T16:06:00.000+10:30

We left Thailand about three weeks ago, and crossed the border with Cambodia at Arunyaprathet (Thai) and Poi Pet (Cambodia), which was an experience in itself. We had overstayed our Thai visa by a week because of my hospital stay in Bangkok, which is not a problem as the Thais just fine you 200 Baht per day, but we were still a little apprehensive about it.
On the day we were crossing the border there were hundreds and hundreds of Thais waiting to cross to go to the casinos in Cambodia (gambling is illegal in Thailand, and it was pay day for a lot of Thais), so the queues were long and slow moving.... This was only made worse by the fact that the immigration post was having computer problems.
After about an hour in the sun, it dawned on us that the US currency we had was going to be no good, we had $600 in hundreds and one $20 note (it was all we could get from the bank we went to a week before), the Cambodian visa was US$20 and on seeing the border post, I couldn't see them offering us our $60 change. We decided we would have to leave the queue and go to the bank to get some smaller notes.
After leaving the queue, rejoining it at the end, and waiting for another two hours we finally left Thailand, and walked the 800 metres to the Cambodian immigration post.
All seemed to be getting easier..... I took one look at the Cambodian visa form and my heart sunk (to say the least..... I may have even yelled an expletive or fifty)..... "Attach one passport sized photo here"..... Getting some more passport photos was on of the things I had to do in the week we had in Bangers before we left for Cambodia, but I had ended up in hospital and had completely forgotten about it.

Faced with the possibility that I would be stuck in the no mans land between Thailand and Cambodia our conversation went a little like:
Tim: F&!%
Traci: S**!
Tim: F&!%, S**!, F&!%
Traci: S**!, F&!%, S**!

We ended up learning 2 very important lessons about Cambodia...
1. Money talks, and if you have it, you can basically do anything you like.
2. Cambodia is corrupt to the core.

I told the border guard that I had no photo, slipped him 100 baht (AU$3), and sat down to wait for the visa (well, hope for a visa).
We ended up getting our visas quicker than anyone else in the queue!

Since we have been here we have even been offered police badges and hats which wouldn't be weird except that it was police men who were trying to sell them to us. I'm sure they would sell you their guns or grandmothers if you flashed enough dollars.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

2006-01-05T15:43:00.000+10:30

We have been having a ball in Cambodia - hence the complete lack of posting, despite the fact that we have been here for 3 weeks. With Christmas, new years eve, a friends birthday, and other random reasons to party we haven't really felt like writing blog posts. Its a bit of a shame, as I'm not sure I'll remember everything.

We are just going to post a random set of experiences, in no real order (which somehow seems appropriate for Cambodia).

Cambodia is a great country, and its hard to think of a way to sum it up, but "the Good, the Bad and the Ugly" seems the best way. Its a wonderful country, with wonderful people, but there is definitely a bad and ugly undercurrent that surfaces from time to time.

Photos will follow later, we are going to swim at a lake in the countryside in about an hour and are pushed for time

Give me the Feva

2005-12-14T17:28:00.001+10:30

This is a bit of a catch up post, as I have been a bit slack of late..... but there is a reason for that (other than my slackness that is), and that reason is Dengue fever.
Dengue fever is definately not on my top 10 list of diseases. I have just spent a week in hospital with it in Bangkok (the flashest hospital I have ever seen, more like a 5 star hotel!), so basically I havent been arsed to sit in front of a computer!

For those who dont know (or cant be bothered to google it): Dengue fever is basically like the worst flu you have ever had, headache, sore joints and a very high fever (mine was 39.6 at its height). This lasts for a week. In the very young, old or frail it can be fatal, but I supose the flu can be too. I was spared the worst of it fortunately.

Since the last post, we took a ferry to phuket (so we could catch a flight to Bangers), which is a bizarre place to say the least. The population is about 10:1 ladyboys - and being Thais, its almost impossible to tell the difference. We battled our way through that, and made it out alive (many didnt).... We saw several westerners "getting lucky" and walking out with a "girl" under their arm.... then again, perhaps they already knew. Enough of that anyway.

We traveled to Bangers, I spent a week in hospital, and another 3 days recovering at our guest house, and have now traveled to Siam Reap, Cambodia - where the Angkor Wat ruins are. The bus ride took something like 546 years to get here, and even went backwards some times. Which is the real reason the temples were abandoned..... Its so bloody hard to get here, no one could be arsed.

Cambodia is a lovely place though - the kids are friendly, running up to practice their English on you (whats your name, where are you from, how old are you, my name is etc etc). You invariably get a wave from people as you pass by in a tuk tuk or bus, and as it is currently the rice harvesting season, that means alot of waves.

Time to go now though, we are going to watch the sunset from the Angkor temple tonight (hopefully not with 2 million other tourists).

It's Official: Sea Urchin is now definately ON the menu.

2005-12-01T21:24:00.000+10:30

sea urchin
n.

Any of various echinoderms of the class Echinoidea, having a soft body enclosed in a round, symmetrical, calcareous shell covered with long spines.

Little bastards.

What the above definition doesn't tell you, is that some species of sea urchin (eg. the long-spined diadema, as pictured above) have smaller spines inbetween the long spines that they shoot out at anything that crosses that invisible boundary.

On our second dive of the day, I found that invisible line and swam boldly over it to collect my reward: 12 spines in the hand. I copped it in a particularly sweet spot too.

An interesting fact you may not know about the shot spines of sea urchins, is that once they break the surface of the predators skin, they turn into little hooks so you can't get the bloody things out.

The western dive instructors on the boat gave helpful hints like, "Nothing you can do about that. You're going to be picking them out of your hands for weeks. Try soaking your hand in hot water... you could always dig them out with tweezers."

Fortunately, the Thai boat driver knew what to do...

1) pee on your hand, and

2) apply lemon juice to the area for 1 hour

All in all, it was great advice (I skipped step one though and went straight to the iodine). Five hours later, I could close my hand again and by the next morning my hand was almost back to normal.

Happily, I hear that the insides of sea urchins are quite delicious (like fish roe) and even better - they are cut open while they're still alive! Not that I'm a vengefull person, but it's now a delicacy that I will eat whenever possible.

I Found Nemo! (he was in the anemone the whole time)

2005-11-29T14:56:00.000+10:30

It's true folks... I found Nemo and his mates, and he was hanging around Koh Phi Phi in an anemone the whole time, not in some dentists office in Sydney as the movie would have you believe.

But wait! There's more! If you thought the news couldn't get any better than finding Nemo... it just did: I have finished my 'PADI Open Water Scuba Diving' course! Woo hoo!! I now have a licence to dive... up to a depth of 18m. I haven't felt such achievement since I got my drivers' licence, and similarly, am looking forward to going out and having fun with my new found freedom.

Tim and I are going to buddy up on a couple of fun dives tomorrow morning to Binah Nok and Binah Nai, which should be great. Another fab thing about diving is that it doesn't matter if it's raining, which is fortunate as that's what is forecast for tomorrow (again).

The day after, we are going back to Bangers before heading over to Cambodia. In case you were wondering, the current weather in Bangkok is hot, sunny and 33 degrees - but from Friday (for the next 3 days) there will be thunder showers. Once again, we are taking the weather with us. But as my good friend assured me, I'm getting in the practice for London.

Adios amigos.

It's A Tough Life, But Someone Has To Do It.

2005-11-27T18:39:00.000+10:30

We are now on koh Phi Phi, the beautiful tropical island in the Andaman Sea made famous as the setting for the Hollywood film 'The Beach' (among other things).

It is hard to see much evidence of the tsunami on the main land andaman coast, but it's a different story here unfortunately. The main inhabited part of the island is wedged in between two cliff faces, and is no more than 4-5 metres above sea level, so when the tsunami hit it was channeled into and over the town.

The island has bounced back incredibly well, although there is evidence of construction in many places, and the damage caused is obvious. The people seem happy, and are getting on with life, but there must be a lot of grieving to be done still. Nearly everywhere you go it is the same story:

"Sorry, we are a bit under staffed"

"Why?"

"Half of them are dead".

On a lighter note though, we are having a great time. Traci is currently finishing off day two of her PADI Open Water diving certification, and we did to dives together today in Maya Bay (the picture to the left), and we are planning to go on a 2 night live aboard dive trip to some outlying islands where a group of manta rays are currently in residence. Hopefully we can get some pictures to post :)

Anyway, it's sunny today, so I think I have spent enough time in front of a computer.....

Hey Hey Were You Go?

2005-11-24T15:16:00.000+10:30

We have been in Krabi for 5 nights now, well, we are actually in Ao Nang about 10ks away. It's a great place, and life is slipping past all to easily (which seems to happen in Thailand).

The boat trip from Koh Pha Ngang was pretty eventfull due to the stormy weather, but we made it off alive, and didn't even have to swim. Which was a big surprise to me!

I am constantly surprised with how friendly the Thai people can be. Since we have been here it has been constantly demonstrated to us.
On the first day here we hired a trail bike to expore the surrounding area. After getting no more than 2ks from town, the bike spluttered and then let out a loud electrical sounding crackle and finally a bang. Not good. I was already preparing myself for an argument with the bike hire place, and cursing about the prospect of pushing the bike back to town. Within 10 seconds two girls in a car, and a man and a child on a scooter had stopped to offer assistance. The guy on the scooter offered to push us into town, although I couldn't imagine how, but the Thais are inventive, and have an uncanny ability to ballance things on scooters. With Traci on the back, and his young boy on the front, he pushed me on the trail bike with his foot on the passenger foot rest of my bike. 1k down the road a pick up slowed behind us and started beeping for us to pull over. I didn't want to do this, expecting the usual Thai cry of Hey Hey Were You Go (followed by what ever vehicle they have to offer you a lift in: Tuk Tuk, Taxi, Bus, Boat etc etc) and a hefty charge to boot, but it turned out to be a guy from the bike shop, who appologised profusely, gave us a ride into town with the bike, and promptly swapped the bike for another one.

Which brings me to the title of this post.
Hey Hey Where You Go?
Tuk Tuk, Taxi
Hey Hey Where You Go?
Khao San, Airport
This should be the Thai national anthem, they all know it, and it is better than the one they have - sounds like a disney tune..... but hey, how can Australians poke fun at anyones national anthem?????

We should hang our heads in shame. Gurt by sea????

Diamond Geeza

2005-11-18T21:42:00.000+10:30

We have left steamy Bangers, and travelled to Koh Pha Ngang, of full moon party fame, although, fortunately, there is much more to the place than just the party.
I have been to this island before, and on the last journey here we were transported by a “boat” which was more than a little frightening. I think that its owners had found it in a kinder surprise, or perhaps, more likely, made an inferior copy of a boat that came in a kinder surprise. To make matters worse, the sea was so rough that even the company who owned the boat was reluctant to set off. So, understandably, I was adamant that we would not end in the same predicament….. We did, and we didn’t. We ended up using the same company, but had a different boat. On the last journey, I sat on the deck, as I didn’t want to be inside the death trap when it sank, so we decided to do that again….. Not until we had been sitting in the sun for several hours did we notice that this boat had an air conditioned interior which sold cold beer. Oh well!
That aside, we are having a great time. We spent 2 nights on the north of the island, at a place called Mae hat (hat or had is Thai for beach). A beautiful place, if the beach wasn’t so dirty, and it wasn’t so expensive, or so far away from everything.

We decided to move, and went to visit the place I stayed at last time, Booms café bungalows. Unfortunately, there was building work going on so we didn’t want to stay there, so we had a quick look down the beach (we had to wade past some rocks to do this) and discovered Harmony Beach Resort. Not only was this place incredibly beautiful, but the room was better, and cheaper, and it was totally private and secluded – there is no road access, you have to walk through a nearby bungalow place and wade through the sea to get there. It is run by a South Londoner called Dave (it is a scientific fact that 50% of South Londoners are called Dave)

We went to the full moon party, but didn't end up staying all that long, and retuned back to our idyllic little spot to drink some buckets (there is no messing around here - they sell you a small plastic bucket full of ice, a 375ml bottle of spirits, a can of red bull and a can of coke… what a great take away).

And you can see why we returned :)

We have spent days just lounging around here. But soon we will be on our way.
It’s my birthday on Saturday, so we are going to hang around for that, and then it’s on to Krabi, Koh Phi Phi, and diving in the Similan islands.
Fortunately, our budget has been pretty much reined in, so we can afford to splurge again :)

Will Tim & Traci make it out of their dire predicament? Will dangerous Dave succeed in his dastardly plan of permanent beach settlement? Stay tuned for the next exciting installment, same flash time, same flash channel.

BTW: you can check out Harmony resort, or contact them at this address (thanks for that chester!): http://www.phangan.info/harmony/

In the Noodle

2005-11-11T23:24:00.000+10:30

In the street infront of our guest house, there is a street vendor who makes a fantastic noodle soup with won tons, noodles, pork two ways, greens and crab garnish for 30 baht. He's a little old Thai man with few teeth but lots of character and we enjoyed his noodles so much, that last night we thought we'd buy him some beer.

Well, we ended up buying him 4 and collectively we proceeded to make a pretty good dent in the seven eleven's beer supply with about five people getting stuck into it around the table. When noodle man finished work we invited him over to sit and drink with us and he brought over his bottle of Thai rice whisky, and as we bought him beers he wanted to return the favour.

Now for some reason, no one else at the table wanted to have any of noodle man's whisky... so I took it upon myself to drink their collective share.

The last thing I remember is taking my shoes off to show noodle man my blister (to which he very kindly applied some ointment), which I am told was about half way through the night's antics. I woke up the next morning in the guest house in bed, and with half my belongings strewn across the room, half undressed and with no idea what had happened.

Ignorance is bliss. Tim filled me in on what happened later...

For starters, I drank a lot. I only remember drinking about 100ml of noodle man's whisky, but apparently I helped him polish off 3/4 of the bottle. Usually when I get really drunk and loose consciousness (not that often, Mum & Dad!), I would stop drinking. This did not happen.

So, I kept drinking until a the little safety switch in my head finally went off and I suddenly just walked off without my shoes or my bag. At least I walked out of there... one of the other backpackers had to be carried off (by Tim, bless him).

Poor noodle man was apparently so drunk he had real trouble packing up all his tables, chairs, condiments and cooking gear into the back of his ute and was in such a state that he slept in his car and didn't go home. I wonder what Mrs Noodle Man had to say about that!?

I won't bore you all with the details, but apparently when I was woken up by Tim once he arrived back at the guest house (after retrieving all my gear) I went completely mental. The poor people in the room next to us had to endure me yelling and throwing random things out of my backpack at the wall and generally being a complete nutter.

As we spoke very little Thai and noodle man spoke very little English, conversation was a bit stunted - but everyone knows the international signal of "you're shirking your drinking responsibilities". I guess peer pressure knows no language barriers.

Mae pen lai!! :)

Bangers & Flash

2005-11-10T18:08:00.000+10:30

Well... We have arrived in Bangkok (Bangers), and are flashing it up in true flashpacker style :)
The daily budget of 900 Baht each (AU$30) is looking like a very unlikely dream at the moment!
We arrived at about 11:30pm, and caught a taxi, which proved to its astonished passengers that Einstein's special theory of relativity is in fact wrong..... It is possible for an object to travel faster than the speed of light (and not hit things..... just..... very, very, only just).
We found it so hard to explain the location of the guest house we wanted to the taxi driver, even after he called the farrang service (English Thai translation call centre), that we ended up staying on Khao San road - the backpackers’ ghetto. Fun for all the family! So the next morning we got up early, which wasn't hard as we didn’t sleep a wink (it’s hard on Khao San, but more on that later), and moved to Tavee Guest House, in the Thawet district. I cannot recommend this place enough, it’s a beautiful Thai style wooden house frequented by long term farrang residents on visa runs and life long travelers, 100m from the Chao Prya River, down a quiet, leafy Soi (side street).

Which brings me to why we didn't sleep..... Being back in Bangers is reviving long lost memories of traveling, like:

Roosters don't just crow in the morning as the myth suggests, they do it all night, right outside our window by the sound of it. And that sets to dogs off..... And there are a lot of dogs in Bangers (well, the whole of Thailand really).
Khao San road is a hole... a hole filled with drunken wankers with Thai "girlfriends", rip off artists, people who think getting their hair braided is cool, roosters, dogs, dog shit, and all night bars.
The amazing toilet shower: A large toilet cubicle with a shower at one end. Now I didn't forget about these, and don't particularly have anything against them (they work really well, you can use the shower to spray the cubicle off if it's dirty etc etc), but I did forget all the usage tips I found out last time I was here: put the toilet seat down first, as things can fall down the toilet easily (note to self: buy new towel), and make sure your clothes are hung up properly or they will fall on the toilet floor (yum).

Bitching aside, I am having a great time. We have done most of our chores (bought supplies, got injections etc), so now we are free to travel down to the islands, or wherever we like. We also met a couple of travelers at Tavee (Cataline;Belgium and Mike;Canada) who live in Thailand (in Kanchanaburi – where the bridge over the River Kwai is) who have invited us to their place for a couple of days.

Basically we are having a ball. Its sunny and hot, the food is great and cheap, and so is the beer (which is sold everywhere), and we soon be kicking back on a tropical paradise island.

Today, Adelaide..... Tomorrow..... The World

2005-10-26T10:25:00.000+09:30

It is now finally upon us.
We have 3 days of work left, then a weekend of partying and saying goodbye in Adelaide before we fly out on the 1st of November for Sydney (Tim) and Brisbane (Traci), to say goodbye to rellies.
On the 7th of November we fly out of Sydney for Bangkok, and 10 months of travel.
The plans are pretty fluid at the moment (just the way we wanted it), but the basic jist of it is to travel South East Asia anti clockwise for 4.5 months:
Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, China, Laos, Thailand

Then fly on to Delhi and travel India clockwise for 6 months:
Delhi, Kolkata, Chennai, Keralla, Mumbai, Rajasthan, Himchal Pradesh, Delhi

From Delhi we fly on to Amman, Jordan where we will have a look at Petra and maybe Wadi Rum (if we have any money left!), and then on to London to live for a while (at the bare minimum until we have enough money to return).
From there, who knows :)

For those of you who know us, you can keep in touch with us and our travels here, and if you don't, you're welcome anyway.

The easiest way to follow the blog is to just bookmark this page, and visit every once is a while.

For the more technically minded:
You can use a newsreader, or other program that can access atom feeds to access this blog here

There is also an RSS feed here, if you use firefox click this link and then click the icon in the address bar, and add the live bookmark to your toolbar bookmarks (this should be the default selection, just click ok). When you click on the bookmark you will see a listing of recent posts, and ones you have not read yet, which is a really easy way to find out what we are up to.

We will be updating and improving the blog when we are on the road (well, in internet cafes anyway!), and will try and keep everyone informed of any changes. We will be contactable at our gmail addresses - if you dont have them, post a comment to us through this blog (click the add comment link at the bottom of one of the posts) and we will send them to you (you will have to leave your email address in the comment for us to be able to do this, i suggest that you write it in the format someone at somewhere d0t c0m (use zeros instead of the letter o in the dot and com) and not someone@somewhere.com as this will reduce the chances of getting spam - I will delete the comment after we have sent you out email address).

BTW the whole flashpacker thing was chosen as it is exactly what we are going to be doing - Backpacking with lashings and lashings of bling.

One last thing: to leave a comment click the word comments below