No Haggling Mojo

I'm chillaxing (cringe) in Jakarta for a few days. And when I say chillaxing (cringe) I mean it.

I bought 2 books yesterday, I've finished one and I'm halfway through the second. I think I'll be taking them back to swap tomorrow. Sue Grafton, check out her 'Alphabet' series...awesome stuff.

One of the reasons I'm not really going out (apart from the fact that both Bangkok and Jakarta were just a means to an end for me....planes), is that I can feel my haggling mojo is way down. I'm exhausted, knackered, tired of the endless back and forth that goes with buying anything anywhere other than a restaurant or supermarket. It's great fun, don't get me wrong, but phewey!

I'll be hopping on a plane tomorrow evening and heading to Sydney Oz, where I'll be seeing my lovely Linda for the first time in 6 months. Hullo Lindar!

This afternoon I shall be carefully going through my bag and making sure I have nothing hidden that would draw the attention of the radar-possessing, heightened sensitivity brigade that is Aussie customs personnel. I've also scrubbed my shoes clean of Mount Rinjani and Bromo filth, washed and brushed my hair to within an inch of its life, and selected a decent outfit to fly in. All this in the hopes that I won't walk through customs and be pulled aside on account of looking like a parasite-ridden hermit lady. I wouldn't want to suffer the indignity of being rolled in a paddling pool of disinfectant and held in quarantine as a biohazard prior to repatriation.

So....no new pics for this blog entry, unless you'd like me to take some quick shots of the view from my window (of the exterior AC units inside the lightwell), or the bathroom (constantly dripping...but effective shower)?

The next time you hear from me I will (should) be reporting from Sydney. See ya'll soon xxxx

My, But Where Did All This Rain Come From Borobudur??

After the beautiful Mount Bromo I was packed straight on a bus to Yogyakarta, or Jogja as the locals call it. It was actually a lovely bus (for most of us, my mate Marie had a seat right at the front with almost zero legroom and was half sat on the gear shift), the only problem being that my arse has taken to complaining at even the shortest sit-down journies. I think that last epic trip did me in. All was good, we were on our way to Jogja, a cultural epicentre of Java.

Once we arrived we checked in at one of the only places with any room left, a tiny place called Losmen Anda. I initially balked at the room, it looked filthy, but upon further inspection, the sheets and mattresses were clean, the bathroom was clean, it could just have done with a bit of a spruce up really. The staff didn't speak much english, but were really lovely and helpful, plus it was down a little alleyway and quite enclosed, so you felt very safe at night.

Jogja is where most people come to to visit Borobudur. The standard set up is that people go for either a sunrise or sunset trip, a few hours in total as Borobudur is only an hour from Jogja. Marie and I decided we'd quite like to stay overnight and explore the town a little bit. We managed to nab our own private minibus for less than a fiver each by wandering around the small tourist offices until one guy just offered to take us in his little van. WIN!

We stayed in a really cute and quiet place right opposite Candi Borobudur. It's a buddhist temple built during the 9th century, but it's use declined as Islam took over throughout the 14th century. It was only really rediscovered in 1814 by Sir Stamford Raffles (London Zoo anyone??), who then brought it to the attention of the world. A huge restoration project was undertaken in 1975, finishing in 1983, and Borobudur is now a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Quite deservedly, though I'm glad I didn't go for either of the sunrise or sunset tours...I was there for both and the weather prevented any decent shots. Indeed, sunset was a complete loss with an epic storm starting about half an hour beforehand. RUN!!!
Still, Candi Borobudur is an amazing temple, rivalling Angkor Wat as a major temple attraction in SE Asia. I'd apologise for the mistiness of the pictures but IT'S NOT MAH FAULT!! So there :o)

Gorgeous carvings on the galleries of the temple

These bells along the top of the temple each contain a buddha image

See! You have to reach in and touch his toes or hands for good luck

The only thing that slightly interfered with the experience was the hundreds of photographs I was asked to pose for. I'm not entirely sure how many schoolgroups were there, but it seemed like thousands to me, after I'd been asked to pose for photos with at least half of them. At one point I was sat down with a videocamera stuck in my face and 30 screaming children jumping around me. I couldn't help but laugh when I was stopped by a group of 2o kids who had a group photo taken with me, and then passed their mobiles to their mates to get a pic by themselves....THEN took their mobiles back and took a pic of me by myself. I felt like a zoo exhibit. Those guys at the end of the video above were the first to ask me for a picture.

As if the temple itself wasn't enough, we went for a wee wander in the afternoon whilst waiting for 'sunset'. At one point we stood around wondering if there was anything else to see, we spotted a building over to the left and I thought I could see some people inside. Marie thought it was an animal. We got a bit closer and we realised that it was an elephant. An Olifant!

Of course we crept closer, not seeing anyone nearby, and stood posing for pics in front of the gated complex with the elephants in the background. Then we heard a voice calling hello, and a guy appeared from around the corner. Far from being in trouble, he actually invited us in to feed the elephants bananas, whoop! Believe it or not, in the 3 months I've been travelling around Asia, this is the closest I've gotten to an elephant. *How much will THIS cost us?* I thought. But afterwards, as we chatted, said thank you and goodbye, they didn't ask for a thing.

Genuine human kindness does exist :D

Indonesian Bus Journies....to Wonderful Wonders

I went on an epic journey yesterday, instead of using my return ticket to Padangbai in Bali, I bought a ticket on an AC bus through Mul's brother going to Probolinggo in Java. Probolinggo is the platform for forays to Mount Bromo (by 4x4 I hasten to add!!).

The bus was lovely and big and AC, it's still a local service though, so I was the only Westerner on board. I was slightly concerned when I read 'Primitive Service' emblazoned across the side of the bus.....and even more concerned at the huge crack that spider-webbed across the entire right side of the windscreen....right in front of the driver. Noone else seemed concerned though, so I settled down and we set off.

It was a bus-ferry-bus-ferry-bus journey encompassing Lombok, the whole of Bali, and part of East Java. The first ferry was fun, we arrived at the port and were told that we couldn't get on a ferry until after 10pm, it was only 8pm. The bus turned the AC off and it was so hot that most people chose to mill around outside rather than stay on it....there wasn't much to do in the dark and so I mostly stayed on the bus and sweated it out.

At about 11pm we finally boarded the ferry. I had to take my big bag and so when I walked on looking hot and bothered....and conspicuously white....I was offered a cabin. Huzzah! It wasn't much, but it was private and had a bunkbed...I could have a nap. So I settled in and down for a few winks. I heard some strange noises whilst half asleep, but didn't think much of it, the whole ferry was groaning around me.

3 hours later my alarm went off and I groggily climbed down from the top bunk and turned on the light.....only to see a rather large furry body and pink tail disappearing under the bed.OMG!!! I tiptoed to my bag and found that the little bastard had been into my bag and nibbled through the little sealed watercup that I'd been given earlier with my lunch...all into my bag.....joyous.

There were also a couple of rather large cockroaches on the wall near where my head had been.

Iz niiice.

I still stuck around in the room....it was actually preferable to being outside and hanging around with nowhere to sit. I installed myself on the top bunk, keeping one eye on Colin and his mate, and watched the ferry approach the harbour....whilst thinkinng of all the rat-bourne diseases I could look forward to. I kept hearing squeaking, it may have been from the ferry, but I imagined a nest of hungry rat-babies under the bed. Cute.....not so much.

So, back on the bus for the journey through Bali. It wasn't long before we hit Ubung station in Denpasar, and there we stayed....for 2 hours. Apparently there was something wrong with the engine. I was getting some amused looks, being sat outside the bus amongst a bunch of Indonesian guys, all of us looking folornly at the 3 men trying to fix it.

It was at this point I realised what a novelty I was. Sure, all the kids had been running down to the front of the bus to stare at me.....repeatedly, but apparently westerners NEVER use this service. Various passengers came up to me to chat, always the same questions:

Where are you from?

How long have you been in Indonesia?

Where have you been in Indonesia?

What do you think of it?

At this point the language barrier usually takes its toll. One guy came and shared his sweets with me, which was nice! Eventually we were back on the bus and driving through some of the most beautiful areas I've ever seen. I need to take time to come back and see Bali properly. I was dreadig the next ferry crossing from Bali to Java, but to my surprise the coach drove straight on and the ferry was lovely. The drive to Probolinggo from there was also relatively uneventful, and punctuated by a lovely Balinese guy who came up to me whilst we were at a rest stop and gave me great kudos and respect for travelling 'like the locals do'. This guy had been drinking rum from about 2pm until late the day before, and had managed to miss his flight to Sulawesi, so he was bussing and boating the whole way....nutter.

Finally I was dropped in Probolinggo and booked my trip to Bromo which was stunning.....except for the fact that I was being picked up at 2:30am.....and my alarm didn't go off. So I was rudely awoken by banging on my door at 2:22am. Joyous. Was it worth it for this though?

Yes it was :o)

Creepy Crawly Bastards

Happier posts izzit? Well I'm still in paradise, Senggigi is beautiful, but paradise comes with its fun and games, the Gilis came with sand in the bed, and Senggigi has come with beg bugs. Nasty bitey little bedbugs.

I noticed the bites on my left arm this morning at breakfast. At first I cursed the mossies, but then I noticed just how many there were. I just counted and there are at least 34 trailing up my left arm.

So then I checked out my right, not so bad....only 20.

Then I checked myself over in the mirror after my shower....deary me. I have nice little nom trails all over my back and stomach. My legs SEEM to have been mercifully ignored, but maybe that's because there are too many existing mossie bites for them to find any space, plus I haven't really had good enough light to examine them properly yet. I'm sure my arse must resemble the surface of the moon.

Needless to say I checked out this morning and into a new, slightly more upmarket place. I've put almost everything I own in the laundry and had a nice scrub in the shower, feeling much much better now!!!

Apart from that I've had a lovely couple of days in Senggigi with Mul (Sometimes.....finally got his name) coming from the Gilis every day to show me around. Yesterday we had lunch at Kuta beach in the south of the island. It's totally deserted at this time of year, and yet come July and August it will be humming....what a difference a month makes. It's beautiful down there and the sand on the beach was cool, huge grains, so you sunk into it every time you tried to walk.

There was a stretch of rocks to the right and I saw a guy standing right at the end. At first I thought he might be fishing, but he kept getting up and down, when I asked it turned out he was praying, Muslims pray 5 times a day. What a lovely setting to be able to do it in. One thing I've noticed since getting to Indonesia is the regular calls to prayer from the mosques, I'm not sure I've ever heard it in the UK. It's just started as I type actually. It must be interesting for the conservative locals to be living in places like the Gilis where the westerners are all parading around in bikinis and speedos (uck). I saw one local girl wading out of the water with a full hajib (spelling?) on underneath her scuba gear.

Well, I'm off to tiger balm myself and chill out on my last day in Lombok before heading to Bali and Java over the next couple of days. Only 9 days left in Indonesia, 16 days left of my travelling.....*weep*.

See you all soon, big love xxx

Epic Trekking FAIL!!

Goodbye to the Gili's and Silver, I'm in Lombok now, and it's as beautiful as I imagined.

I've had the pleasure of seeing much of the island from the back of a motorbike courtesy of Sometimes (he still won't tell me his real name) who organised a trekking trip for me and delivered me to Senaru from where the trekking up Mount Rinjani takes place.

NB, for those immediately concerned when I mention the motorbike, it's THE mode of transport out here. I think I've mentioned before that people out here grow up, live and breathe on bikes. 3 hours either way between Senggigi and Senaru, however, is a bit much for a non-pro backseat rider....my ass is killing me!!

Many of the places we rode through never see tourists, I think most of the people arriving to trek Rinjani arrive by a different route, or in a coach with blackout windows......rich people *spit*....and so the reaction from the villagers was quite funny. Some people just stopped and watched open-mouthed as we drove past, kids were waving and shouting, and whenever we had to stop for a bemo or an errant cow in the road people on neighbouring bikes shouted hello and asked me my name and where I was from.

That was about where the joy ended......

When you ask any locals about the trekking they're totally blase about it:

'Is it difficult?'

'Nah *shrug* easy, *nod*'

'OK, 2 days, one night to see the lake?'

'yes'

'Does it get very cold?'

'Nah' *shrug* 'you need to rent warm jacket?'

'Uh.....yeah?'

When I got there I found I was actually booked for 3 days and 2 nights....hokayee. You have to do 2 nights to see the lake. Cool, I have time. So I stayed overnight in Senaru and prepared for some exercise the next day.

I woke with a sense of foreboding, it seems I have keen intuition! For a start, I wasn't prepared with the right equipment for trekking. Sure, I'd rented the warm jacket, but my bag was stupid, shoulder-slung non-waterproof stupidness. I should have had a backpack, but I couldn't heft my 35 litre up there.

Anywhoo, off I trot with my stupid bag stuffed with a couple of changes of clothes, and I meet my trekking buddies, a couple by the names of Tina and Gary (also from London). We meet our porter Dali, these guys are amazing, they go up and down the mountain every day with 2 baskets attached to a pole slung over their shoulder. The baskets contain all the food and water we need for 3 days, plus tents and sleeping bags. They do all that in flip flops, that is until the really steep part when some of them take off the flip flops and go barefoot!

For the first half an hour I thought 'Oooh, not so bad, maybe I'm fitter than I thought' (my did that come back to haunt me), and then we reached Rinjani National park. Oh...ok....so this is the beginning? Humm.

Even then....it was ok for the first couple of hours. We were in the rainforest and so protected from the sun, and it was much cooler on the mountain than it was in Senggigi.

However, it seems I'm not built for endurance. By the time we stopped for lunch I was seriously flagging. It was a long lunchbreak whiich I was grateful for, despite it taking longer than it really should have. Another porter had joined us, a young guy who called himself Musliman.....whether thats real or not I have no idea. He said he was 18 but we weren't convinced, I know the local people look deceptively young, but he can't have been much older than 16. Anywhoo, the idea is that one of the guys goes ahead and starts cooking lunch so that it's ready for when the trekkers get there (just saying that makes me cringe, it's like they're slaves), Musliman went ahead, but seemingly had not a clue what to do and so nothing had happened by the time we got there. I suspect a small organisational error too, I think Dali had all the food!

Somewhat refreshed after lunch and a break we set off on the next section of the trek, Dali and Musliman stayed behind to dry out the tents that were a little damp from the last trek. After about half an hour, at my insistence, the others pulled off as they were faster than me, so I was left completely to my own devices, luckily there was only one route up, so even someone with an internal compass as off-kilter as mine couldn't go too far wrong. But the terrain was becoming hardgoing, climbing up over tree roots etc was doing my legs in.

And then the heavens opened. They don't call it a rainforest for nuffink.

So I was stuck alone in the middle of a 2.5km stretch in the pissing rain with no shelter and not much choice other than to press on. Even if my waterproof jacket had been effective it wouldn't have saved me from this onslaught. Apart from which, it still wasn't cold, so you're sweating inside the jacket too. The trail became a waterfall and so picking the footing became fun. At first I attempted to keep my feet out of the water, but it soon became pointless and I started sloshing miserably through puddles and praying for a glimpse of POS III, the next rest point, through my bleary glasses.

Those 3 hours may have been among the most miserable of my entire life so far. It made for a lovely picture afterwards though.

Finally I arrived at POS III and found Gary and Tina who said they'd only been there 15 minutes (kindness??) and who were also soaked to the bone. The porters turned up about ten minutes later and lit a fire for a cup of tea.....laaarvely. We all started toasting our socks and shoes around the fire, we hung our socks on sticks and held them over the it. When Dali tried to put the kettle on the fire all our socks were in his way and he cried:

'TOO MANY SOCK-SATAY!!'

It makes me pee myself laughing even now when I think of it, the poor exasperated man fighting his way through wet socks to the fire. Ahh, I'm laughing again now...love it. I managed to melt the side of one of my shoes though....not so funny! I saved it before it was unsalvageable though....huzzah!! Silver lining, savour the silver lining.

Sorry....I keep looking at sock-satay and giggling. I need to write more so it disappears from the screen!

By now I was getting pretty chilly, it was ok when we were walking as we generated our own heat, but when we stopped in our soaking wet clothes it was cold. The worst thing was not having the prospect of anything dry and warm to change into. We had to hope that when we got to the campsite they could build a fire for us to dry our clothes over.

The last section was a trial, it got very steep, and the ground was very loose. I made a comment (loud complaint?) about how steep it was and Dali turned around and said:

'tomorrow very steep

'Oh yeah?'

'Yes, up to crater half hour, down to lake two hour and up the other side 3 hour, 3 hours very steep'

'Huh.....steeper than this?'

'Oh yes'

I think it was at about this point that something inside me snapped and my soul departed. I decided that I was heading down tomorrow, sod the money, I don't care, this is my hell.

We reached the campsite and helped Dali pitch my tent, Musliman was carrying the other tent and was mysteriously absent, he'd been just behind us a little while before. We found out later from another couple that he'd been sat smoking and faffing around about 400m down the slope. The couple had eventually told their porter to tell him that he should probably go and find us....seeing as he had our sleeping bags and all. I lost count of the number of times I saw Dali turn round and shout angrily down the slope at him, I can't speak the language, but I think it translated roughly to 'hurry the f**k up!!'. I changed into the only things I had that were remotely dry (hadn't had the foresight to pack alternative trousers) and went to warm my frozen toes over the fire. By now Tina and Gary had decided that they were also going down tomorrow. Gary had a nasty cut on his toe that was killing him, and so over dinner....in the dark, we told the porters that we wanted to go down tomorrow. Apart from making sure we realised that we wouldn't get any money back they didn't seem too bothered......snuggled in their warm jumpers.....gits.

I went to bed in my cold tent, cold sleeping bag and mostly dry tops, and crossed my fingers that I wouldn't die of hypothermia during the night.

Can you tell I was REALLY enjoying myself? :o)

The others wanted to go to the crater rim before heading down the next morning, that meant getting up at 4:30am to get there for sunrise. I was spent.....'wake me up when you get back'.

I woke up the next morning (silver lining?) in time to see sunrise from my tent and the comfort of my now-tepid sleeping bag. As soon as the sun came up I began trying to dry my clothes in haste for the journey down. I had success with one pair of knickers....which was kind of pointless as my trousers hadn't really dried. Breakfast was delivered to my tent, along with a cup of tea, which was rather nice. It was a surprisingly good banana pancake, and they gave me some chocolate sauce to go on top. Half an hour later they delivered another one. I think they were lightening their load for the way down.

Time for the journey down....easier right??.......Ahem.

I'm thankful for a few things on my downward journey:

1) Gravity

2) That I wasn't using the same muscles as I used for the climb up

3) The stick that I'd collected for walking on the way up

There was the familiar longing for the glimpse of a rest-point on the way down, and by the end my knees were absolutely shot. I'd slightly twisted the left one in a fall near the top of the mountain and so I was favouring the right one. By the end, my right knee had taken so much weight that it just started to give out. At one point I was walking along an almost flat section and all of a sudden I found myself in a crouching position, my knee had just totally given out.

Musliman had stuck with me at Dali's command, and encouraged me to take frequent breaks....for my benefit or his I have no idea, either way....I wasn't complaining.

So I finally made it down, huzzah!! Time for that nice easy stretch to the office that I remembered from the day before. Not so easy with 2 dodgy knees and an ache in every muscle you can imagine. Old ladies passed me in flip flops with bundles of wood slung over their shoulders......for shame. I looked about 50 years older than them, hefting myself downhill with the help of a stick. They would come up behind me and I'd move aside to let them pass, in their ever-polite Indonesian way they would gesture for me to carry on, they'd follow me down. If I'd let them I'd have ended up being followed into town by an entourage of geriatrics looking like they were getting ready to build my funeral pyre when I finally dropped dead......silly dead tourists.

I can't describe the relief when I finally hopped (shambled?) onto the back of a moto to go to the hotel. I arrived and they asked me where I was going this afternoon?

'Nowhere...I'm staying here...do you have a room? Yes? I'll take it, it's done. Show me that shower baby!' They could have charged me anything, I'd have paid it!

What an experience....I can't remember when I last sweated so much, stunk so bad or was so completely exhausted in my entire life, Nicki.....remember that horse-riding.....5 times worse!! I feel sorry for the people I gave my laundry to today. I'm also still discovering scratches, bruises and mossie bites galore.

Maybe time to join a gym when I get home, what an unwelcome demonstration of just how unfit I am.

If I ever mention that I'm thinking of climbing a mountain again......slap me!

My but that was cathartic! Happier posts to follow :o) Thanks for listening if you got this far lolz! xxx

P.S That STUPID bag is going in the bin, you should see the state of it...and it's stinking out my room. I don't think Aussie customs would even let me through with it!! Tarrah!!

The Gilis - Installment number 2

Bungalow on Gili Meno

So we went snorkelling...and I got horrendously burnt. My back never sees the light of day, and stupidly, I forgot to suncream it along with my shoulders and chest...and what sees the most sun whilst snorkelling? Ugh! It's better today, but I'm hoping the pain is all gone by the time I have to shoulder that bag again and head for Lombok.

Snorkelling was lovely. Unfortunately the camera is only 'water resistant' and so I don't have any piccies of the lovely fish or turtles that we saw, but I have some more envy-inducing pics for you :).

We've now seen Gili Air (the best people so far), Gili Meno (the smallest of the Gilis...rubbish food) and now we're at Gili Tranwagan (the largest...and some cool people so far). In a couple of days I'll be off to Lombok to trek a volcano....whoop. Then Java Java!

Big love to all at home, I'll be seeing you soon xxx

View from Amber House on Gili Meno

View from the restaurant we ate at 10 minutes ago...Gili Trawagan

Gili..........let me count the ways....

Ok......so....Kep was beautiful, it really was. But now I've seen true paradise. I'm on the Gili islands off of Lombok in Indonesia.


My plan (loose as it was), was to go straight to Lombok, though I was having second thoughts after a German girl I met in Denpasar told me about an experience she had at Bangsal harbour with ticket touts...overly enthusiastic and slightly aggressive, but I was convinced otherwise by a lovely dude I met in Padangbai. There are very few tourists around strangely enough and we decided to head to the Gili's together..I'll hit Lombok on the way home. His name is Silver and he's from Estonia.


So yesterday we headed off on the bus, boat, bus and boat trip to Gili Air. It took 9 long long hours to get here, and we finally crossed from Lombok to Gili Air as the sun was setting. We'd met a guy called Sometimes (one suspects he may have taken this name on purely for tourist purposes) at Bangsal and had asked him where was a good place to stay. Of course...he said he'd take us to where he lives....hearts sunk....what will this place be like? But we'd asked him, not the other way round, so we took our chances.

The place has turned out to be beautiful. Beachside huts and a good restaurant and bar, we chilled out last night, and today took a walk around the cost, which ended up taking 4 or 5 hours....but only because we stopped for a beer, then a swim, then lunch...then another beer. Time has no meaning seeing as I left my watch in Bali by accident and Silver doesn't have one!!

Tomorrow is time for snorkelling, and the day after we're off to Gili Meno.

People...if there's one place you have to visit in your lifetimes...make it this. Just watch out for the coral beaches.....OUCH!!!

A crabby hermit crab I met on the beach

Bali Bali

I'm kicking myself for not bringing my photo DVD here....after not finding on in Siem Reap I hardly expected to wander into a cafe that could read DVD's here, and yet here I am. It's an interesting place, I'm sat in a little private cubicle....on the floor. There are some cushions. There are Bob Marley posters on the wall and something that sounds similar to Linkin Park is playing. There's quite a big alternative rock scene here.

I'm in Denpasar, Bali's capital city....a million miles (or maybe not really) from the tourist areas. To be honest it's a good break, Siem Reap was a little crazy so it was. A couple of low/no alcohol days is probably what my body needs.

It was a long day yesterday with my journey here from Siem Reap. Roger and I were on the same flight out to KL and so we said goodbye at the airport when we arrived, he's off to India. I waited in the airport for what felt like forever with the excessive AC almost freezing me to death, and then I went to board my flight to Bali. As the lady checked my ticket she said something to me that I didn't hear, when I asked her again she said 'you pregnant, or not pregnant'. I stood for a second wondering whether I should respond with 'I hope you ask ALL the women that!' then said no, threw an embarrassed look at the guy behind me and carried on.

I know I've put on a couple of pounds in the last week or so, almost entirely in beer, but really? Sob..... Maybe I should have said yes, I might have got priority boarding. Us large people don't like being on our feet too long after all.

The second flight was lovely, I had a row to myself, and in the adjacent row was the most gorgeous baby ever, blesser little cotton socks. I didn't even mind it when she squealed and cried.

My plan for tomorrow is to get to Padangbai and the ferry to Lombok, although I spoke to a girl today who had a rough time with some touts in Lombok, so I may find myself visiting a tourist office and paying a little extra to avoid the notorious hassles at the harbour where you leave for the Gili Islands. I'll see if I can get back here later and put some pics up :)

Love to all at home xxxx

Gah!!

More disappointment :o(

Apparently Cambodians love to put your pictures onto DVD....despite the fact that the net café computers don't have DVD readers.

However, what I would love to say is hello to my family :o). I phoned home on mums birthday and managed to speak to everyone which was great. I said at the time, it's really strange, but for the first time in my life I can hear their accents. Having met so many people with so many different accents, it kind of fine-tunes you to them. Very odd indeed.

I also want to say hi to nanny, who I know has been following my blog through Dad. I'm glad you're enjoying it nan, I'll come and show you all my pictures when I get home, I love you and hope you're doing good :D.

Lots of love to all of you and see you soon....time sure does fly out here.

Big hugs and kisses,

B xxxxx

New Blog Later!

Still having photo problems! I found a Kodak place, but the guy says his son is at English class...come back in an hour, and so I shall!

Photo montage of the beautiful Cambodia up and coming :o)

So Much to Tell...So Little Time

**note - I've just realised that my memory card has frigged up again...so there'll be no pics on this one until I get it sorted out....the curse of SE Asian internet cafés!!**

There's been some frenetic travelling recently. Since I last wrote I've spent 2 evenings eating crab in Kep, bussed to Phnom Penh, the capital city of Cambodia and spent 2 nights there, then bussed onwards again to Siem Reap, home of Angkor Wat, I've been here one night.

I've been travelling with a guy called Roger whom I met in Kep. He's been travelling for 2 years already and is heading back to India after he leaves Siem Reap. I'd put a pic up, but I only have one and he looks ever so slightly odd. I'll save him the embarrassment. I was quite grateful for his company as a local guy called Denny had taken a shine to me and took me for a moto ride around Kep National Park (at this point I thought he was a moto driver). I had to meet Roger for food at 6pm and made sure Denny knew this! A lovely dinner was had that evening, the dinner I've been waiting for, crab fried with Kampot pepper. Highly messy, but highly delicious....nom nom nom. Thank you Violet Dear.

Next we hit Phnom Penh. I'd heard that it was a bit of a dive...not much to do apart from the obvious, S21 and the Killing Fields. I won't write too much about it here as the whole thing deserves a blog post of it's own which will come up soon, but for a little bit of background...

In April 1975 The Khmer Rouge took power in Cambodia after a long civil war, at first the people were happy at the end of the war and welcomed the soldiers into the cities. It soon turned nasty, Pol Pot and his guys were determined to turn Cambodia back into an agrarian society, and sent everyone to work in the rice fields. Anyone with an education, anyone who could speak French, monks, and even those who wore glasses were considered imperialists and were systematically executed. The regime got worse and worse through the late seventies, S21 (or Tuol Sleng) is an old highschool that the regime turned into a centre where people were brought to be detained, interrogated and tortured. Poeple were then sent from S21 to be executed at the Killing Fields, a location around 5km outside of Phnom Penh.

It's thought that at least 2 million Cambodians were either starved to death or executed during the 4 years that the Khmer Rouge were in power. Seeing S21 and the killing fields was pretty harrowing, but I'll leave it for another post.

After Phnom Penh we headed for Siem Reap, I wasn't sure what to expect, but people had told me that they love it.

I LOVE it!

After being here for even less than 24 hours...I can see why people might see Phnom Penh as a bit of a dive compared to this. I visited the places the right way round! Everything is here. You can get a fish foot massage almost anywhere on the street. You see people perched on the edge of inflatable swimming pools with fishies nibbling their feet. They have some incredible covered market places, so many restaurants and bars. And of course, the jewel in Cambodia cultural crown...Angkor Wat. I'm planning on visiting the temples tomorrow, I'll probably get a 3 day pass and so I should have some awesome pictures to show you over the next few days.

I'll get my card sorted out today and hopefully have some pictures for you very soon.

Love love lovers xxx

Have you ever viewed.....paradise?

Wow, I mean....wow. Kep, you amaze me.

I think today it suddenly hit me that I'm travelling. Last night I had a moment whilst I was wandering back to Sheim and Sohan with yet more beer when I thought 'I'm in Cambodia....CAMBODIA!' Today I had another one of those moments.

The bus trip to Kep started out pretty well, there were plenty of people on my minibus, 'Huzzah! I won't be alone' I thought. Then the bus stopped outside a hotel in Kampot and everyone got off.....except me.

I sat there for a while waiting for the bus to leave again, and then one of the guys from the company climbed on and said:

'Everyone else stay in Kampot, you're the only one going to Kep, is ok if you go by moto?'

For those of you unfamiliar with a moto, it's a scooter/motorbike.

After all my questions....

'How long?' - 30 mins

'How much?' - We pay

'Will I die?' - eeeeeeh...probably not

....I grudgingly agreed. So I slapped on some sunscreen and hopped on the back of the moto. What I was mainly worried about was lugging my big bag on my back and feeling like I'd topple backwards the whole way. But the driver tucked it down between his feet, so that was a relief.

At first I was a bit nervous, but whilst we were driving through the town he chatted a bit which calmed me down. I had to keep reminding myself that these guys live and breathe motos, and there was very little traffic so all went well.

Until we hit something :(

Mr Moto just kept on going, didn't bat an eyelid. From the horrible howling left in our wake I can only assume it was a dog. That's possibly one of the most horrible things I've ever experienced and I was in a bit of shock for a while afterwards....*shudder*.

So we carried on, my arse getting a bit numb by now, and all of a sudden the heavens opened. Mr Moto tells me we're going to turn in and shelter for a few minutes. Ok, I think, but where?...all I can see is a few little wooden huts with naked toddlers and gurning grannies outside. Sure enough....

We stopped outside a little hut and inside there was a family. Mum, dad, another older lady (auntie?), 3 kids under the age of 8 and dear old granny, who almost wet herself chuckling when I performed a most ungraceful moto dismount. Mum was busy mending a fishing net, and dad was whittling. I gave them all a big smile (such is the extent of my Cambodian) and took a perch on a little wooden bench. They all just stared and laughed at me for a few minutes whilst we sheltered from the rain.

Eventually we left again, and dear old granny made her way outside, presumably to see whether my moto-mounting technique was any better than the dismount.

One significant thing I noticed was the distinct lack of westerners. Until 2 french people walked in this net cafe just now, I saw absolutely no western faces whatsoever. Plenty of Cambodian tourists though, it's the kings birthday today and so this weekend has been a long one for Cambodia, they've all scooted off on their holidays.

Moto riding in the rain and no tourists...wow....I'm backpacking!

Ten more minutes and I could see the sea. Kep is so lush and green and gorgeous, I couldn't help but smile as we pulled in. Of course, I didn't know any hotel names, so Mr Moto took me to his friends place. It's pretty nice, I have no complaints thus far, AC and a fan...telly. What else could a girl ask for? An English programme sure...but I had terrible fun watching a Thai soap opera (with Khmer subtitles).

Once I checked in I just laid under the AC for a while, and then summoned up the enthusiasm to make a move for the beach and explore a bit. Not knowing where I am, I didn't get too far, but tomorrow I'll make a plan with a map, and, if need be, a friendly moto. Tonight I'm planning on finding a close restaurant, indulging in seafood and a couple of beers, and an early night!

I didn't take any pics on the motorbike you'll be glad to know, but I've dotted a couple of Kep shots in for you :) More tomorrow hopefully :D xxx


Cheeky monkeys raiding bins! It could be Africa! Or the zoo...

Welcome to Cambodia....

Sheim and I left the rest of the crowd in Saigon and headed to Sihanoukville in Cambodia. It's a bit of a divergence from my original plan, which was to go straight Kep in the south, but I couldn't find enough information about how reliable the border crossing was, so I decided to play it safe. Onto Kep by bus tomorrow.

We arrived in Cambodia with some trepidation, as the was setting, an incredible storm set in. The lightning was scaring some people on the bus, and many of the locals moved into the aisle to see where we were going....which worried me somewhat!

The people and the place soon changed my mind.

We met a guy called Sohan from the US as we got off the bus and we shared a tuk tuk (cheapy cheapersons) to the backpacker district, so we're knocking around with him for a few days now.

Day 1 (yesterday) we decided to go to the beach, seeing as Sihanoukville is essentially a beach resort, I don't think there's much else to do here.

As soon as you step foot onto the beach, you're overrun with a hoarde of ladies and children selling massages, pedicures, manicures, threading, bracelets, scarves, sarongs, fruit, crab, lobster, sunglasses....the list goes on.

It's pretty annoying, but I've been finding the children absolutely hilarious, and have fallen prey to may of the hawkers already. Their english is amazing, which I didn't expect! Here's some snippets of conversations I've had:

"I don't want a bracelet thank you.

Why?

I just don't want one.

You don't want one? Then buy two!"

"Why you not buy from me and you buy from her? I asked you first (lie). You're a very naughty girl, you see what happens when you don't buy from me!" more about this particular kid in a minute.

"Open your heart, open your wallet"

They're fabulous.

On the beach today I decided that I'd quite like a bracelet from the 'angry boy' as I dubbed him, with his name on it. They sit there and braid them for you on the spot. I wanted a memento of him. I'd seen him wandering past a couple of times shooting icy looks at me, so I knew he was around. I finally spotted him and beckoned for him to come over....I actually think he would have ignored me had his friend not shouted at him to come....lose a sale through pride...hell no!

He looked incredibly inconvenienced as he wandered slowly over to me, and even more so when we quibbled over price, I wanted to pay $2, he wanted $3, no remarks over being a cheapskate please, haggling is standard!! But all of a sudden he looked over his shoulder, and like a bolt of lightning, he was gone. I looked in the direction he'd glanced and saw a stern looking man holding a stick walking in our general direction. Alost all the hawkers had disappeared...the ones that remained looked mighty nervous.

We found out later that he was a policeman patrolling the beach. They don't like the hawkers harrassing the tourists, and will even go to the extent of walloping them with the stick. No wonder the kids were terrified.

Eventually angry boy came back....with protection, a tenacious little girl who had sold me some bracelets the day before, she was quite the cheeky little madam, we were in good company. I Asked him his name and he told me it was Pon, so I asked him to braid that one the bracelet. I picked my colours and he disappeared off to do the bracelet...eager not to be caught with us by the policeman.

Time passed and I wondered if he was ever coming back, then I spotted them walking down the beach towards us. Of course, the time to pay was upon me:

"Two dollars.

Three!!

Two!

Three!!

Oh bloody hell, ok then"

It was worth it for the beaming smile and hug that I got afterwards. I paid a dollar for that hug.

I also met a lovely lady doing manicures and pedicures...so I got a pedicure yesterday and a manicure today. I've never felt more girly in my life. Her name was Sun.

I hope the people in Kep are as interesting, the people are making this country for me so far :)

Photographic Fail!

You might be wondering why I've been offline for so long...

Firstly...the internet is shite here in Hoi An, but most importantly, one of these stinking computers wiped my memory card. So I think I've lost almost all my photos from Vietnam. Shitehouses :(

I still have plenty of journeying to do though, so more pictures shall come, it's disappointing, but one mustn't rely on piccies, it's the experience that counts...and I've learned to back up more often.

I have a bloggage all ready to go, I just need to take (more) pictures of my fellow travelmates. Hopefully be back online soon, Saigon should be better internetwise than Hoi An.

Sleeper bus tonight...huzzah :D

B xx

I'm Back!

Sorry about that brief interlude, the places I'm travelling through in Vietnam haven't really cottoned onto the net cafe culture yet....but I've found one! Huzzah!

Since I left you I've been travelling South through Vietnam, an overnight sleeper train to Hue from Hanoi was fun, we met 2 great guys who happened to be in our cabin, Erik from Sweden and Ben from Derby. It happened to be a Swedish holiday that night and since we're travelling with Sheima (Swedish also) and Erik, we thought beers would be a good idea. Every time the lady with the trolley came past we ordered 5 beers (I'm pretty sure she stopped by our cabin more than was strictly necessary).

Then the last beer run came....and we had a sad :(. That was until a knock came on the door and there was the trolley lady, with a plastic bag containing 5 cans of beer. You have to laugh.

Hue was lovely, we spent 2 nights and visited the Citadel. Hue is the old imperial capital of Vietnam, and the citadel was the home and seat of government for the last emperor of the Nguyen dynasty. It was badly damaged by US bombing during the Vietnam war..but still retains much of its grandeur.

Now in Hoi An, having travelled by very plush sleeper bus, I hope the long-ass journey from Hoi An to Saigon will be as comfortable. Hoi An is absolutely beautiful, as many of you may know, it's also the best place to come for cheap made-to-order clothing. In fact, in an hour I'll be picking up 2 pairs of trousers and a shirt that I was measured up for yesterday. About 12 quid each for the trousers and 13 or 14 for the shirt. I'll let you know how I get on with that.

Hoi An captures you, it reminds me of a slightly busier (and drier) Luang Prabang. The cafes and restaurants by the river are gorgeous, and most serve 'fresh beer' which is essentially home-made beer that costs roughly 15p a glass. It's not very strong, but it does the job. Last night I had a lovely meal, probably the most expensive I've had in Vietnam (or anywhere), costing a whole 4 pounds. This was for 2 GIANT prawns that I went over and handpicked from a bucket. I named them Bob and Dave...they were delicious.

I was considering stopping in another place, Dalat or Na Trang on the way down, but I may just stay and chill here for a couple more days and then go straight to Saigon, then swiftly onto Cambodia.

Enough from me, to finish up this one, I thought I'd introduce you to some of the guys I'm travelling with at the moment:

Pat:

Pat's from Tasmania, though I believe he was born in Victoria. He has an amazing talent of being able to cry on cue (or at least 1-2 minutes after cue) and can retain the lyrics to any and every song ever played to him. Sheima introduced me to Pat on my second to last day in Hanoi.

Sheima:

Swedish, but her mother is Polish and father is Iraqi. She's a champion snake kisser...don't believe me? Add her on Facebook and check out the photo evidence :D. We met in Hanoi after I'd been wandering for 3 hours.

Ben:

From Derby, die hard Rams fan and an excellently English sarcastic sense of humour. He's still mourning the loss of his ipod, don't mention it to him, he may have to shed a tear. We met on the night train from Hanoi to Hue.

Erik:

From Sweden, has been afforded the unfortunate nickname 'White Supremacist' due to his eagle tattoo, despite having studied human rights (or something like that). Rumours abound that he enjoys shagging animals...I can't imagine where that came from....

We also met in the night train.

Emma:

Is from New Zealand, we love listening to her vowels, the kiwi accent is muchly fun :D. Would we take the mick? NEVER!! She loves dancing and singing along to ANY music you put on, a great laugh! We met her in Hue on our first night.

As is the way with backpacking, we'll be losing Emma tonight, and Pat possibly tomorrow. I think Erik and Ben are hanging on for a while, and a guy called Chris that we met in Hanoi will probably be joining us soon. Also, we're meeting Steph (who I met in Luang Prabang) tonight at one of the only bars in town.....mad.

Hopefully it won't be quite as long between this and my next update, I'm sure Saigon will be pretty good interwebs-wise :D

** Update**

This was written before my photo disaster and so is bit old! I'm in Saigon now, and Pat, Ben and Erik are arriving tomorrow...a wee reunion of a sort...though we saw them all 2 days ago...

Crazy Vietnam

This place deserves a blog post of its own.

Vietnam is truely mental.

It's perturbing just how adaptable we are, how quickly we get used to some kind of craziness being the norm. Being submerged in Hanoi I barely notice it anymore, but stepping back from it...

If any of you have been here before you will of course realise that I'm talking about the traffic.

Crossing the roads here can be like taking your life in your own hands. Don't get me wrong...zebra crossings, traffic lights, red and green men are rife...all over the place. But do the Vietnamese take any notice of them?

What green man?

The first day I ventured out I did the chicken thing and avoided all main roads, which basically ended up with me only being able to walk around the block :D

Driving Rules in Vietnam:

1) Tear up the rule book

2) Size of vehicle (penis) denotes right of way. Pedestrians = prey, motorcycles give way to cars, cars give way to coaches and lorries...or someone will get squished.

3) Horns can be used for anything, batteries are totally replaceable

4) Traffic lights are more 'guidlelines' ( Cap'n Barbossa accent) than anything

5) When approaching pedestrians at speed, liberal use of the horn is encouraged....especially if you're creeping up behind and they don't know you're there....and ESPECIALLY if they're Western.

6) Pavements are to be used as a handy thoroughfare when traffic is heavier than you'd like

7) Creeping up behind Westerners on the pavement and excessive use of horn is to be encouraged.

The list goes on.

As for pedestrians, you just have to do what you can...dodge motorcycles mounting the pavements and cross at the green man, regardless.

When the green man comes on, motorcycles in particular will just keep going, but the Vietnamese (despite their dislike of the green cross code) are pretty good drivers. The green man comes on and you walk into oncoming traffic, confidently and at a steady pace, things will drive around you. The only time I wouldn't prescribe this particular course of action is when there's a lorry or coach looking like it ain't slowing down, we want to conquer Hanoi traffic...not become road kill.

I've found myself walking across huge intersections with motos and taxis whizzing around me in all directions and I'm no longer perturbed...go me!

Now I just need to take on Saigon, which I've heard is worse......*breathe*

Ahhhh....Halong.....

It's what you've all been waiting for people! Fans of Top Gear will probably recognise this place straight away.

I spent 2 days and a night at Halong Bay Vietnam, sleeping overnight on a junkboat anchored in the bay.....beautiful. I went for a slightly more expensive trip and so there were only 10 people on our junk (4 of which were an older crowd who only spoke French) and the food was AMAZING.

The first day was bad weather really, but it only added a sense of mystique to the surrounding limestone cliffs and islands. The junkboats are beautiful to watch.

The Vietnamese refer to Halong Bay as Dragon Bay, in the east dragons are throught to live in the water, rather than the sky as in the west. Legend has it that when the Vietnamese were fighing Chinese invaders, the heavens sent down a family of dragons to help them in the war. Of course the dragons suceeded, but instead of returning to the sky, they decided to settle on earth in the water near Vietnam, thereby creating Halong Bay.

These ladies spent all day in small boats rowing around selling beer/coke/pringles to people on junks

These two islands are the symbol that many people use for Halong Bay

The Surprise cave. It was discovered by the French during the colonial period. From the outside it didn't look very big, so it was a surprise to discover just how large it was on the inside...hence the name.

Now...the food.....

Lunch and dinner on the first day in particular were lovely. There were numerous dishes and they just kept arriving with more and more food, almost like tapas.















Lunch on the last day was fish and chips...Vietnam style. That at the bottom there is deep fried squiddly diddly.

I met some very cool people on the boat, not least Davel (from Norbury) and John who are working in Indonesia post-tsunami (yes..that's still going on), and invited me to stay with them in Aceh, Sumatra if I make it that far. Sumatra wasn't on my list, but it might be now, time and money permitting. I haven't forgotten the recipes Davel, I'll get them to you :D

Beautiful trip, lovely people...gorgeous food.

What more could one want?

To be dropped off in the right place on the way back? Thereby avoiding a 3 hour wander whilst the sun goes down? That would have been nice too, but we can't have it all now can we? :D

xx

p.s many thanks to Violet Dear of Madness and Beauty for the tour company recommendation (via blog :D)