It was an uncomfortable ride from Vientiane in Laos, to Hanoi. 26 hours on a local bus, with men that did not have any qualms about keeping the windows open and smoking- rendering the gentlest puff of cool air futile. It was smoky, and hot, and the bus stank of expensive blue cheese- entirely my fault, for who was to know that my sandwich would melt into a sticky green mess within an hour.
We arrived in Hanoi, having heard tales of Vietnamese taxi drivers with penchants for ripping off tourists left right and centre. With that in mind we spent ten minutes negotiating a good price from Hanoi bus station to our hotel. The cunning rat tried to rip us off anyway.
Hanoi was a blur, intense heat, sweat, baguettes and more motorcycles (xe om's) than I have ever seen. Hurtling round corners, driving the wrong way down the roads; the theme tune to Vietnam is a constant 'toot beep' that carries on into the early hours. Women carry sticks over their shoulders, selling nuts and baguettes and fruits that look like potatoes, their conical hats shading their tired faces.
We went to a museum, I burnt my leg rather badly on the engine of the motorbike taxi- and spent three hours with a limp, unable to relax unless a can of Pepsi was thrust on my blistered leg. Will was ecstatic at the prospect of not trawling around a museum for the afternoon. We saw traditional Vietnamese dress, houses, and then went back to our air conditioned room, smug that we had ventured out into the sun for a few hours and achieved something. Then we napped, exhausted.
A trip to Vietnam would of course not be complete without a trip to the stunning Ha Long Bay. Renowned for its beauty, and a world heritage sight, the Bay is essentially hundreds of limestone karsts sticking out into the ocean- dotted with floating villages, and caves. The Ha Long Bay trip is notorious for being a bit dodgy- you are sold a package, with pictures of Junk boats and luxury. Then you turn up onto a ramshackle old boat with unfriendly staff, and are herded around for the day. Which is what happened to us. The boat itself was pretty majestic, all old dark wood and carved dragons. We had a lunch- squid, of course, with spinach and rice. That was dinner for the evening as well. In short, we spent the day on the ocean, kayaking, swimming, and taking it in.
The only low point was the trip to the cave- a real thing of beauty, ruined by the 300 or so people pushing past you, shouting, taking pictures. And not just of the cave. Now I am not beautiful nor odd looking by any means, which are the only reasons I could think someone would want to take a picture of me. Either that, or they were having a giggle at my pissed off sweaty red face- on three separate occasions Vietnamese people snapped me with their phones, chuckling to themselves. Which was a odd.
Sunset in the bay was great, we took some good pics, then settled down below deck for some drinking games. The Vietnamese staff on board weren't having any of that though, sniffing people's drinks for alcohol so that they could impose a 'tax' for any brought on board; even threatening to search peoples bags. A mutiny ensued. Well actually, a mutiny would have been ensued had we not given in and paid our $5 tax each. We drank the night away, some staying up to watch the disastrous England vs Algeria.
Hue was the next stop on our sped up trip through Vietnam- an hours bike ride around the citadel and city was more than we needed, and we jumped on the bus to Hoi An.
Hoi An is essentially a town of tailors. Suit tailors and dressmakers and hotels, and that. is. it. But we took advantage and got carried away, getting a suit made each, enjoying the bespoke service for $70 a suit. Will even went and got a powder blue linen suit made- when he wears it, he looks like a 70's millionare- someone who wears a lot of gold and probably owns a boat in Miami. Hoi An itself was beautiful- we spent a few days just relaxing, biking to the beach, and eating good food.
I write now from Nha Trang, where we have spent the past five days stuck in a comfort zone. We have rented motorbikes, zoomed around, eaten delicious food and lapped up the luxe- staying in nice hotels, sitting watching dvd's, pretending we aren't going home in a few days.
On our second day, we drove a few kilometres down the coast, to a pagoda. We were conned into giving 'donations' and buying postcards, you think by now we would be used to saying no to touts and vendors. But the pagoda was beautiful, with a giant white Buddha sat atop a hill. We then drove off (a white knuckle ride down a highway) to the mineral mud baths. Sort of like a Thorpe Park attraction for the Vietnamese, the ordeal involved sitting in hot tubs pumped full of mud, then mineral water, then swimming. Very strange, sat shoulder to shoulder semi nude with a couple of Vietnamese men splashing mud about, but there we go.
And now we finish our journey in Saigon, just for a day. Then we fly to Bangkok, to buy souvenirs, and to recollect on the perfect few months we have just enjoyed, before boarding a plane back to reality.
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Sunday, 13 June 2010
Laos has not been kind to us.
We have had a run of bad luck since arriving in Laos that shows no signs of abating. I want to put Will's post into a little more perspective.
We arrived in Laos over a week ago, on a rocky minibus journey over from Thailand, to the party tubing town of Vang Vieng. Known as a place where people go, get drunk, and inevitably hurt themselves, I had braced myself for perhaps a broken finger, or a few bruises from drunken zipwiring. On our first day, I was mauled by a puppy. Now I say mauled, the playful little Andrex thing nipped my finger. No blood was drawn. In my drunken haze, I saw myself as some sort of Dr Dolittle, wandering around in my bikini clutching a puppy to my breast. In hindsight, it was a brush with a rabid death- Will accompanied me to the hospital the next day to get a shot, a hungover paranoid wreck, muttering gibberish about how you can get rabies from saliva. Will went into detail about the way that Rabies attacks the nervous system, ending in an unimaginably painful death. So that was comforting.
The next day we had been tubing for the afternoon, and were making our way home in a tuk tuk. A few enterprising people thought that going on the roof meant more people in the tuk tuk carriage. Well it knocked us off balance a few miles up the road, and we had an unremarkable, slow, yet intensely scary crash into a ditch. People on the roof were whooping- In my very sober state (still worrying about the impending rabies, and unable to even bear the smell of more whisky) all I wanted to do was jump out of the vehicle, which was now at a 45 degree angle laid on a bush. Tried to push it upright again, but failed. We didn't get a refund, sadly.
So that was two bad things that happened. They say bad things happen in threes. So it stands to reason that me and Will got chronic conjunctivitus from the river water, and spent three days with pussing, bloodshot, mole like eyes. I took the mickey out of Will, he did look quite sweet, but little did I know how painful it was. Moving your head and eyes makes you want to vomit, and you constantly feel like you have a migraine. And tissues are a necessity, lest your eyes crust over. Am only just getting over that. Apparently you can catch it from water contaminated with faecal matter.
Now, on the scale of bad things happening, things seemed to be getting worse. On a bumpy bus ride to Luang Prabang, we narrowly missed running over a toddler by inches. And our engine cut out for a bit. But Luang Prabang took the biscuit for overall crapness and bad luck. Last time I came here, it was my favourite place in Laos, small, quaint, and French inspired. This time around, it was tarnished by the pinkeye, the curfew (dont be out past midnight!) and oh yes, our robbery.
I was asleep, not wearing many clothes as it was so hot, next to the window. I had been up and down all night with an imagined fever and my eyes were sore and infected. Will was laying next to me, facing the window. He woke up, glanced over at the floor, and noticed something moving. Thinking it was me moving my stuff around, he was about to berate me... but realised, no, in actual fact thats a man's arm rooting through his bag. "F**k Carmel, theres someone in here" he shouted, disorientated. Me with my crusty eyes and no glasses leapt against the wall wailing. Will realised whilst I was feeling around for my glasses that in fact, someone was using a 2 metre long stick with a hook on, to navigate our posessions through the bars. Will leapt up, shouted, and the man fled. We switched the lights on, and straight away I noticed my handbag had gone, along with my drybag containing all my valuable electricals. Alerted the owners, ran outside, and found my handbag tossed on the floor, along with my passport and bank cards. My cash had gone, along with my older camera and my ipod. Lost some good pics and videos, which I was most upset about, but me and Will were more spooked by someone watching us sleep, going through our stuff. Will was very macho, 'Ooh if I had got up and twisted his arm', that sort of thing. I was just glad he was there.
Went to the police the next day, who are an absolute joke. After some sort of weird Quincy style investigation involving footprints, and some Vietnamese homeless people next door, they made a 'police report'. And also made me write my own contract, saying I wouldnt sue the guesthouse, who I later found out had been robbed in a similar manner before.
So all in all, Laos didn't hold a spark for me anymore. I was dying to get out and go to Vietnam, but flights were expensive, and we needed to apply for a visa, so we chose to get a bus out the next evening. Our 'VIP' bus (note- normal bus, but with pink pleated curtains and doilys over the headrests) left at seven thirty, and made it no more than about fifty miles before breaking down. For five hours. Will and Glynn were well on their way at this point, having drunk a fair amount of BeerLao, so they tried to get morale up by making a campfire. We laid down on the tarmac road, some hippy wearing pyjama bottoms had brought a bongo with him, and looked up to see shooting stars.
We arrived in Laos over a week ago, on a rocky minibus journey over from Thailand, to the party tubing town of Vang Vieng. Known as a place where people go, get drunk, and inevitably hurt themselves, I had braced myself for perhaps a broken finger, or a few bruises from drunken zipwiring. On our first day, I was mauled by a puppy. Now I say mauled, the playful little Andrex thing nipped my finger. No blood was drawn. In my drunken haze, I saw myself as some sort of Dr Dolittle, wandering around in my bikini clutching a puppy to my breast. In hindsight, it was a brush with a rabid death- Will accompanied me to the hospital the next day to get a shot, a hungover paranoid wreck, muttering gibberish about how you can get rabies from saliva. Will went into detail about the way that Rabies attacks the nervous system, ending in an unimaginably painful death. So that was comforting.
The next day we had been tubing for the afternoon, and were making our way home in a tuk tuk. A few enterprising people thought that going on the roof meant more people in the tuk tuk carriage. Well it knocked us off balance a few miles up the road, and we had an unremarkable, slow, yet intensely scary crash into a ditch. People on the roof were whooping- In my very sober state (still worrying about the impending rabies, and unable to even bear the smell of more whisky) all I wanted to do was jump out of the vehicle, which was now at a 45 degree angle laid on a bush. Tried to push it upright again, but failed. We didn't get a refund, sadly.
So that was two bad things that happened. They say bad things happen in threes. So it stands to reason that me and Will got chronic conjunctivitus from the river water, and spent three days with pussing, bloodshot, mole like eyes. I took the mickey out of Will, he did look quite sweet, but little did I know how painful it was. Moving your head and eyes makes you want to vomit, and you constantly feel like you have a migraine. And tissues are a necessity, lest your eyes crust over. Am only just getting over that. Apparently you can catch it from water contaminated with faecal matter.
Now, on the scale of bad things happening, things seemed to be getting worse. On a bumpy bus ride to Luang Prabang, we narrowly missed running over a toddler by inches. And our engine cut out for a bit. But Luang Prabang took the biscuit for overall crapness and bad luck. Last time I came here, it was my favourite place in Laos, small, quaint, and French inspired. This time around, it was tarnished by the pinkeye, the curfew (dont be out past midnight!) and oh yes, our robbery.
I was asleep, not wearing many clothes as it was so hot, next to the window. I had been up and down all night with an imagined fever and my eyes were sore and infected. Will was laying next to me, facing the window. He woke up, glanced over at the floor, and noticed something moving. Thinking it was me moving my stuff around, he was about to berate me... but realised, no, in actual fact thats a man's arm rooting through his bag. "F**k Carmel, theres someone in here" he shouted, disorientated. Me with my crusty eyes and no glasses leapt against the wall wailing. Will realised whilst I was feeling around for my glasses that in fact, someone was using a 2 metre long stick with a hook on, to navigate our posessions through the bars. Will leapt up, shouted, and the man fled. We switched the lights on, and straight away I noticed my handbag had gone, along with my drybag containing all my valuable electricals. Alerted the owners, ran outside, and found my handbag tossed on the floor, along with my passport and bank cards. My cash had gone, along with my older camera and my ipod. Lost some good pics and videos, which I was most upset about, but me and Will were more spooked by someone watching us sleep, going through our stuff. Will was very macho, 'Ooh if I had got up and twisted his arm', that sort of thing. I was just glad he was there.
Went to the police the next day, who are an absolute joke. After some sort of weird Quincy style investigation involving footprints, and some Vietnamese homeless people next door, they made a 'police report'. And also made me write my own contract, saying I wouldnt sue the guesthouse, who I later found out had been robbed in a similar manner before.
So all in all, Laos didn't hold a spark for me anymore. I was dying to get out and go to Vietnam, but flights were expensive, and we needed to apply for a visa, so we chose to get a bus out the next evening. Our 'VIP' bus (note- normal bus, but with pink pleated curtains and doilys over the headrests) left at seven thirty, and made it no more than about fifty miles before breaking down. For five hours. Will and Glynn were well on their way at this point, having drunk a fair amount of BeerLao, so they tried to get morale up by making a campfire. We laid down on the tarmac road, some hippy wearing pyjama bottoms had brought a bongo with him, and looked up to see shooting stars.
Saturday, 12 June 2010
Crashes and Shitty Eyes
So me and Carmel got the bus to Vang Vieng in Laos which was pretty terrible. 14 hours overnight. Carmels discovered that she cant sleep unless shes sleeping on my lap, and I can't sleep if she is, so neither of us had a great time.
We arrived in Vang Vieng at about 2pm. Its basically a few roads intersecting each other, with restaurants showing non stop family guy and friends all day every day.
The next day we left for some tubing at about 1pm. Got a Tuk Tuk down to the river, jumped out and walked down to the river bank where we're greeted with shots of scorpion whishkey.
Well, short on internet time so I'll wrap it up (im sure Carmel will pad it out a bit more soon)
Got a Tuk Tuk back from the river, crashed into a ditch.
Got conjunctivitis from some pooey river water, Carmel laughed, she got it and spent all night awake crying and moaning..boo hoo...
Woke up at 4.20am this morning to see a shape near the window in the corner of the rom. Thought 'fucks sake...whats she doing now?'
Then realised she was still in bed next to me.
Put 2 and 2 together and made 'Fuck, someones poking their arm and a stick into our window'
Shouted at them, ran to the window, he ran off..blah blah...ipod gone, but at least no passports and stuff got stolen, so its all good.....
We arrived in Vang Vieng at about 2pm. Its basically a few roads intersecting each other, with restaurants showing non stop family guy and friends all day every day.
The next day we left for some tubing at about 1pm. Got a Tuk Tuk down to the river, jumped out and walked down to the river bank where we're greeted with shots of scorpion whishkey.
Well, short on internet time so I'll wrap it up (im sure Carmel will pad it out a bit more soon)
Got a Tuk Tuk back from the river, crashed into a ditch.
Got conjunctivitis from some pooey river water, Carmel laughed, she got it and spent all night awake crying and moaning..boo hoo...
Woke up at 4.20am this morning to see a shape near the window in the corner of the rom. Thought 'fucks sake...whats she doing now?'
Then realised she was still in bed next to me.
Put 2 and 2 together and made 'Fuck, someones poking their arm and a stick into our window'
Shouted at them, ran to the window, he ran off..blah blah...ipod gone, but at least no passports and stuff got stolen, so its all good.....
Friday, 4 June 2010
Ye Olde Chiang Mai
Mountains encircling the horizon, stretching into the sky....impossible to tell where the two meet. The ancient walled city a footnote on the page of Chiang Mai's resplendent surroundings.
As much as I love Carmel, and as glorious as her writing style is, I find it somewhat..well...I've just had a beating for what I had voiced as my opinion, so i'll leave it at that....something about a ponce or spaz...i cant remember...asian sensorship at its best.
We welcomed in Carmels birthday with a trip to Bangkok airport. Had a birthday chicken sandwich on the plane.
Got a taxi to a hotel/spa we'd booked the night before. We paid 20 quid each but apparently got upgraded for free to some room worth 150...result.
The place was worth every penny for a couple of reasons.
1. I've found that a consistent dumping routine is almost impossible to achieve while travelling. The unpredictability of what might come out is matched only by the trauma of trying to do it squatting down, flip-flopped-feet in an inch of 20 assorted Thai piss, whilst the train you're riding on smashes you into the wall every 2 seconds.
Therefore, after a 22 hour train journey, the Buck Rogers style toilet of the hotel was a huge plus.
2. Having to go to the shops any time you want something to eat or drink for a month begins to get on a mans tits...so the minibar containing beers and pringles was nice.
Doubtless Carmels reasoning for the hotels worth would be the beautiful setting, friendly staff..etc. But each to their own.
Oh actually, I just remembered. In Bangkok it had been Carmels plan to take me to a jewellery shop where she could spend all my hard earnt money on some expensive fake tat that would probably turn her arm green and make her fingers drop off (birthday stuff). The evening we were there, she was annoyed at me for no discernable reason..I went out and bought her a nice dress, came back with the gift whereupon she wept tears of joy (almost definately tears of joy)
Anyway, the point is I managed to get Carmel a present for once that probably wont get mysteriously eaten by bears or something.
Carmels birthday night in Chiang Mai...went to the market, realised girls cant haggle..had a pizza...lovely.
Saw some tigers in a glorified zoo yesterday, got to stroke them...but although they were definately smacked off their tits, the keeper wouldnt let me put my head in ones mouth for a picture...booooo!
Maybe going on a trek or something tomorrow...then the day after probably going to go to Laos for some tubing. Days upon days of boozing, rope swings, and floating down a river...might die..
x
As much as I love Carmel, and as glorious as her writing style is, I find it somewhat..well...I've just had a beating for what I had voiced as my opinion, so i'll leave it at that....something about a ponce or spaz...i cant remember...asian sensorship at its best.
We welcomed in Carmels birthday with a trip to Bangkok airport. Had a birthday chicken sandwich on the plane.
Got a taxi to a hotel/spa we'd booked the night before. We paid 20 quid each but apparently got upgraded for free to some room worth 150...result.
The place was worth every penny for a couple of reasons.
1. I've found that a consistent dumping routine is almost impossible to achieve while travelling. The unpredictability of what might come out is matched only by the trauma of trying to do it squatting down, flip-flopped-feet in an inch of 20 assorted Thai piss, whilst the train you're riding on smashes you into the wall every 2 seconds.
Therefore, after a 22 hour train journey, the Buck Rogers style toilet of the hotel was a huge plus.
2. Having to go to the shops any time you want something to eat or drink for a month begins to get on a mans tits...so the minibar containing beers and pringles was nice.
Doubtless Carmels reasoning for the hotels worth would be the beautiful setting, friendly staff..etc. But each to their own.
Oh actually, I just remembered. In Bangkok it had been Carmels plan to take me to a jewellery shop where she could spend all my hard earnt money on some expensive fake tat that would probably turn her arm green and make her fingers drop off (birthday stuff). The evening we were there, she was annoyed at me for no discernable reason..I went out and bought her a nice dress, came back with the gift whereupon she wept tears of joy (almost definately tears of joy)
Anyway, the point is I managed to get Carmel a present for once that probably wont get mysteriously eaten by bears or something.
Carmels birthday night in Chiang Mai...went to the market, realised girls cant haggle..had a pizza...lovely.
Saw some tigers in a glorified zoo yesterday, got to stroke them...but although they were definately smacked off their tits, the keeper wouldnt let me put my head in ones mouth for a picture...booooo!
Maybe going on a trek or something tomorrow...then the day after probably going to go to Laos for some tubing. Days upon days of boozing, rope swings, and floating down a river...might die..
x
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Perhentian Islands to Chiang Mai
A good, juicy, bloody soft steak is hard to find in South East Asia. Usually the meat is tough, rubbery, with a sweet sauce seeping into fatty tendons. I have just had the best steak of my life, cooked to rare perfection, with a spicy South American sauce on top. And it was cooked not in a resort, but in a shanty Spanish restaurant, by two former Nobu and Mayfair restaurant chefs chopping and frying their way along the hippy trail.
The Perhentian Islands nestle in the north of Malaysia, near the border with Thailand. To say they are stunning would be an understatement, every beach I have been to in Asia has been stunning or beautiful or lovely, but the Perhentians are something else. The water is so clear and blue it looks like a swimming pool, so still and serene. The sand is pure white and as fine as flour. There are no ATMs on the islands, no payphones, and if you want to use the internet, you should be prepared to walk far and pay over the odds. But for some reason, this tiny island not only looks like paradise, but is a haven for fresh food, cocktails, and the ever popular 'monkey juice' (local rum).
After a mammoth train journey from Kuala Lumpur, me and Will arrived at Pulau Kecil in the morning. Padding off down the beach, we came across a bloke called Glynn- we met him in Borneo and he and Will bonded over whisky- I say bonded, I mean at three am they sat outside our hut hugging and declaring their special friendship with eachother. Will was sick in the sink shortly after. Anyway, Will was really happy to see Glynn because he knew that meant a bit of pub time, so we had a hunt for some accomodation.
Perhentian popularity has soared quicker than the island could keep up, everywhere was full save a dorm room up on the hill. As we got there, Norman, the friendly but dim receptionist, led us to our cramped dorm, that had no electricity until night time. Now, Norman was an interesting creature- shaved legs and a feminine face- surely a woman? But hoarse voice, and the name... found out two days later when we asked for him/her and another bloke said 'the boy is not here'. Anyway, im side tracking... we were a bit skint on the island what with all the lovely cocktails, steaks, and rum, so could only really do one dive- I won't go into detail, but it was called T2, went round lots of underwater boulders and swim throughs, very fun. We moved out of our dorm after a few nights, and moved into a chalet that was surrounded by monitor lizards.
Saturday night was ladies night on the island, free drinks for ladies, and men who dress as ladies. Well, Will and Glynn had a lovely time with flowers in their hair fondling their fake breasts (indeed fitting in with the locals... ladyboys I mean, not perverts who go round fondling). Had some great boozy nights, and met some lovely people. (I will definitely put pics up soon...)
One thing that tarnished our experience- theft. When we pulled up on our first day, Glynn seemed withdrawn and down- he had his wallet, passport, and journals stolen the night before. The story was the same with other people we met; cameras, cash all stolen. A friendly locksmith told us that there were some local drug addicts that lived on the island, who would nick if there was an opportunity. After four perfect days we left Glynn behind to get a new passport, while we headed for Thailand.
The morning we left, Will felt a bit worse for wear; he had gone to 'the pub' (shack with a fridge and cushions) the night before, so of course getting up at 7, and going on an incredibly bumpy boat made him feel great. We weren't really sure how we were going to get to Thailand- the southern provinces are notorious for terrorist attacks and insurgences from people fighting for independence. Anyway, after some dodgy local buses, we walked over the deserted border post and almost trotted right past passport control.
'Where the bloody hell do we go now'?
'Um. Dunno.. motorbike taxi?'
Hopped on the back of a motorbike, wind in my hair, felt like some sort of spy crossing border. Got to Sungai Kolok train station- walked over the tracks to the entrance. Remembered when saw mugshots of wanted men that in 2008 said train got bombed.
'Bugger, shall we get the bus?'
'Why?'
'Um, well, just remembered, the train was a bit bombed a few years back. Lots of terrorists'
"********* sake ***, well we can't get the bus, we'll have to..."
Lots of men with kalasnikovs and big guns, very reassuring. Train was fine incidentally, me and Will had bunk beds, had our dinner next to a soldier. He smiled, I said 'big gun'. He nodded, felt uncomfortable, went to find Will.
Woke up 22 hours later pulling into Bangkok. Became so bored on the train that I read Harry Potter, which was alright actually. Will was overjoyed and gleeful (geek) that I could finally have some Dumbledore banter with him. Bangkok was completely quiet, the old Khao San Road that heaved in the day with people was pretty dead- cars driving down the road without having to toot, few tuk tuks careering madly round corners. I was vaguely disappointed, but lots of guesthouses and restaurants had some good discounts. Anyway, yesterday was my birthday, so I am off to slip off and join Will in our hotel's infinity pool.... More blog to follow.
The Perhentian Islands nestle in the north of Malaysia, near the border with Thailand. To say they are stunning would be an understatement, every beach I have been to in Asia has been stunning or beautiful or lovely, but the Perhentians are something else. The water is so clear and blue it looks like a swimming pool, so still and serene. The sand is pure white and as fine as flour. There are no ATMs on the islands, no payphones, and if you want to use the internet, you should be prepared to walk far and pay over the odds. But for some reason, this tiny island not only looks like paradise, but is a haven for fresh food, cocktails, and the ever popular 'monkey juice' (local rum).
After a mammoth train journey from Kuala Lumpur, me and Will arrived at Pulau Kecil in the morning. Padding off down the beach, we came across a bloke called Glynn- we met him in Borneo and he and Will bonded over whisky- I say bonded, I mean at three am they sat outside our hut hugging and declaring their special friendship with eachother. Will was sick in the sink shortly after. Anyway, Will was really happy to see Glynn because he knew that meant a bit of pub time, so we had a hunt for some accomodation.
Perhentian popularity has soared quicker than the island could keep up, everywhere was full save a dorm room up on the hill. As we got there, Norman, the friendly but dim receptionist, led us to our cramped dorm, that had no electricity until night time. Now, Norman was an interesting creature- shaved legs and a feminine face- surely a woman? But hoarse voice, and the name... found out two days later when we asked for him/her and another bloke said 'the boy is not here'. Anyway, im side tracking... we were a bit skint on the island what with all the lovely cocktails, steaks, and rum, so could only really do one dive- I won't go into detail, but it was called T2, went round lots of underwater boulders and swim throughs, very fun. We moved out of our dorm after a few nights, and moved into a chalet that was surrounded by monitor lizards.
Saturday night was ladies night on the island, free drinks for ladies, and men who dress as ladies. Well, Will and Glynn had a lovely time with flowers in their hair fondling their fake breasts (indeed fitting in with the locals... ladyboys I mean, not perverts who go round fondling). Had some great boozy nights, and met some lovely people. (I will definitely put pics up soon...)
One thing that tarnished our experience- theft. When we pulled up on our first day, Glynn seemed withdrawn and down- he had his wallet, passport, and journals stolen the night before. The story was the same with other people we met; cameras, cash all stolen. A friendly locksmith told us that there were some local drug addicts that lived on the island, who would nick if there was an opportunity. After four perfect days we left Glynn behind to get a new passport, while we headed for Thailand.
The morning we left, Will felt a bit worse for wear; he had gone to 'the pub' (shack with a fridge and cushions) the night before, so of course getting up at 7, and going on an incredibly bumpy boat made him feel great. We weren't really sure how we were going to get to Thailand- the southern provinces are notorious for terrorist attacks and insurgences from people fighting for independence. Anyway, after some dodgy local buses, we walked over the deserted border post and almost trotted right past passport control.
'Where the bloody hell do we go now'?
'Um. Dunno.. motorbike taxi?'
Hopped on the back of a motorbike, wind in my hair, felt like some sort of spy crossing border. Got to Sungai Kolok train station- walked over the tracks to the entrance. Remembered when saw mugshots of wanted men that in 2008 said train got bombed.
'Bugger, shall we get the bus?'
'Why?'
'Um, well, just remembered, the train was a bit bombed a few years back. Lots of terrorists'
"********* sake ***, well we can't get the bus, we'll have to..."
Lots of men with kalasnikovs and big guns, very reassuring. Train was fine incidentally, me and Will had bunk beds, had our dinner next to a soldier. He smiled, I said 'big gun'. He nodded, felt uncomfortable, went to find Will.
Woke up 22 hours later pulling into Bangkok. Became so bored on the train that I read Harry Potter, which was alright actually. Will was overjoyed and gleeful (geek) that I could finally have some Dumbledore banter with him. Bangkok was completely quiet, the old Khao San Road that heaved in the day with people was pretty dead- cars driving down the road without having to toot, few tuk tuks careering madly round corners. I was vaguely disappointed, but lots of guesthouses and restaurants had some good discounts. Anyway, yesterday was my birthday, so I am off to slip off and join Will in our hotel's infinity pool.... More blog to follow.
Sunday, 30 May 2010
Sandakan, Semporna, and Diving Sipadan
Having only qualified a few weeks ago, me and Will are pretty lucky to have dived at Sipadan. Relaying tales to fellow divers of turtles, sharks, and endless coral, we end up getting choruses of 'What! But you've only just qualified!.
Google a picture of Sipadan, a tiny island on the east coast of Borneo that is widely regarded as one of the best places in the world to dive. Reef sharks, white tips, turtles, corals, hundreds of different varieties of fish, everywhere at a visibility of 30 metres. A 600 metre shelf that drops down endlessly. Water so clear you can see as you would on land. Nothing else will compare.
We stayed off the coast of Semporna in a place called Singamata, basically a hotel built on stilts in the bluest of seas. It had an 'aquarium' in the middle next to the restaurant that you could dive in, with huge wrasses and lots of other fish. Our balcony opened onto the sea; Will showed off his backflips into the ocean, everyone was very impressed. For around five pounds a day we stayed in a dorm room, with meals included. Meals consisted of noodles, fish, and rice. For four days. Never thought I could suck the meat out of a fish head, but there we go, thats what a longing for western food does to one. Will struggled, had to get a boat to the mainland to get a steak.
After a few days sunning and generally not doing a lot, we booked our diving at Sipadan. Did three dives there, each one unbelievable. The currents were really strong on our first dive, so I was swimming hard, using lots of air, trying to stay neutrally buoyant. Had a problem with my bcd and couldnt get all the air out of it, so swam over to Will and pointed to my deflate button. However he misunderstood, inflated my jacket, and I shot up a few metres to the surface. Feelings of embarassment were quickly overtaken by panic- 'If I get the Bens and die, I will bloody kill Will' I muttered to myself as I spluttered to the surface. The next two dives were relatively trouble free, and were the best dives I could imagine. Managed to make our air last for a long time- Will had a safety stop and used all his air and had to borrow mine, which was a bit silly.
Anyway, stayed in Semporna for a week, then did a mammoth two night journey from the east coast of Borneo to the east coast of Malaysia, one night on a coach, one night on a train. In third class...
We have met some amazing people travelling so far, some more fun than others (a few posh spazzes)... which has made the experience just awesome.
We are now at the Perhentian Islands on the east coast of Malaysia- stayed here for a few days doing more dives, and are heading back to Thailand tomorrow...
Google a picture of Sipadan, a tiny island on the east coast of Borneo that is widely regarded as one of the best places in the world to dive. Reef sharks, white tips, turtles, corals, hundreds of different varieties of fish, everywhere at a visibility of 30 metres. A 600 metre shelf that drops down endlessly. Water so clear you can see as you would on land. Nothing else will compare.
We stayed off the coast of Semporna in a place called Singamata, basically a hotel built on stilts in the bluest of seas. It had an 'aquarium' in the middle next to the restaurant that you could dive in, with huge wrasses and lots of other fish. Our balcony opened onto the sea; Will showed off his backflips into the ocean, everyone was very impressed. For around five pounds a day we stayed in a dorm room, with meals included. Meals consisted of noodles, fish, and rice. For four days. Never thought I could suck the meat out of a fish head, but there we go, thats what a longing for western food does to one. Will struggled, had to get a boat to the mainland to get a steak.
After a few days sunning and generally not doing a lot, we booked our diving at Sipadan. Did three dives there, each one unbelievable. The currents were really strong on our first dive, so I was swimming hard, using lots of air, trying to stay neutrally buoyant. Had a problem with my bcd and couldnt get all the air out of it, so swam over to Will and pointed to my deflate button. However he misunderstood, inflated my jacket, and I shot up a few metres to the surface. Feelings of embarassment were quickly overtaken by panic- 'If I get the Bens and die, I will bloody kill Will' I muttered to myself as I spluttered to the surface. The next two dives were relatively trouble free, and were the best dives I could imagine. Managed to make our air last for a long time- Will had a safety stop and used all his air and had to borrow mine, which was a bit silly.
Anyway, stayed in Semporna for a week, then did a mammoth two night journey from the east coast of Borneo to the east coast of Malaysia, one night on a coach, one night on a train. In third class...
We have met some amazing people travelling so far, some more fun than others (a few posh spazzes)... which has made the experience just awesome.
We are now at the Perhentian Islands on the east coast of Malaysia- stayed here for a few days doing more dives, and are heading back to Thailand tomorrow...
Monday, 24 May 2010
Sepilok Orang Utan Sanctuary
A lesbian Orang Utan show wasn't quite what we expected when we went to Sepilok sanctuary. We had heard that we would be lucky to see two or three at feeding time- but from the moment we went into the rainforest we were surrounded by curious cheeky apes. One pinched a baby bottle from a pram and suckled on it, another grabbed a Japanese tourist and made her wail. Then at the end we were treated to a bit of a show from two female Orang Utans, who went from grooming to shagging in two minutes. We couldn't step over them, and it felt wrong to watch...Finally have some time to upload photos
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
