Bangkok, Thailand - Bangkok: The Tattoo

This is a quick one because I’ve had a few people ask and ask about this, so here it is: I got the tattoo I’ve been talking about for years in Bangkok, and there’s a little (but overdramatic) story attached to it.

Khaosan Road in Bangkok is close to where we stayed our second time in Bangkok, prior to flying to Japan, and it is packed with tattoo parlours, piercing salons, places to get braids and dreads, etc etc. Since looking for a place to do it (or not) was one-stop shopping Scott and I went around to different parlours to scrutinize them. We narrowed it down to one called Full Time by Eak, an artist that was well established, was published in many magazines and who had, most importantly, an impeccable business. I took the first step, which already made me nervous, in telling them what I was “considering”, and came back one hour later to look at the design: I loved it.

So, to go through with it or not? I either did it, or shut up and stopped talking about it forever. Which forever should I chose? I took the plunge and booked for the next day. The next day came, during which I had hours upon hours to psyche myself out. Four o’clock finally came around and I actually walked into the appointment. The guy was incredibly nice, waiting until the last possible moment to ensure I wanted to do it. I really really did, but was playing mind games with, well, myself! I sat down, started getting all sweaty and nervous, and he began. It hurt, but not that much. It was bearable, but annoying. There was one problem: I focused on it so much, and breathed SO much, I started getting dizzy 2 minutes into it and looked at Scott, all pale and clammy and said: “I’m going to pass out”. He said, “No, you’re not!”. I said, “Yes, I am”…

This is Scott writing now. And then the head fell forward covered in her mane of hair and it was lights out. Jenn had just passed out on the chair. The guy had to stop doing the tattoo; I was trying to wake Jenn up to no avail. The artist and I had to pick her up off the swivel chair and then put her on a big reclining chair. After about 30 seconds of talking and cheek pinching she finally started to come around. Totally dazed she could not talk and had no clue where she was. The tattoo guy was so calm as if this was an everyday thing. He quickly went and got a can of coke to bring her sugar up and after about 10 minutes she was standing (only just) and we were out the door and back to the hotel.

Jenn here again. What a freak I am! It honestly wasn’t painful; I just spent almost 10 years talking myself in and out of doing it, so following through with it shocked me a little. Ok, a lot. And I seriously over-react physically to things I notice, so really, I’m just being consistent. The tattoo artist also told me it wasn’t unusual for that to happen to a newbie. Nice. Comforting? Not really. I had the problem then, of having a minute corner of a tattoo completed, so I had to go back the next day to do it all again! Since I now knew better, and had calmed down, I acted like a normal person the second time around and got the tattoo finished. It took about 2 hours, and I AM very happy with it.

So that’s my drama queen tattoo story. I know, what a loser I am for passing out, but it made me all the tougher for going back again right??

Ko Phangan, Thailand - Time to try the island of Ko Phangan

We have been unable to access internet in a few days, then we were on planes, etc so this entry comes a bit late… we are now well into Japan, but first is first, here is Siem Reap and Angkor Wat.

So! After cutting our time down in Phnom Penh to one day, thinking we may not be able to change our flights, we rushed over to Siem Reap and Angkor Wat to find out that our flights had indeed been bumped forward… by ten days! Good news and bad news, as we now had more time in Cambodia, but not enough to backtrack and do it again properly. Oh well.

We decided to take a breather in Siem Reap and set down some roots for four nights. Our guesthouse was new and clean, but at night every mosquito hiding in the crevices of the building radared in on my location and spent their time feasting on my blood and flying straight into my ears, AAAARRRGGGHHH! One night I couldn’t take it anymore and got up at 3 a.m. and went and sat in the bathroom with the light on until the morning. It’s so awful when mosquitoes like you as much as they like me.

Siem Reap is nothing like we expected. It’s a beautiful little town, with the river running through it as is the case with most cities in SE Asia. The central area is very touristy, full of bars, cafes and shops. The riverside is also really pretty as it’s lined with trees, benches and statues. Now this is the centre of Siem Reap, as the surrounds where the locals can afford to live, eat, etc are much more underdeveloped. Incredibly disturbing to me in Siem Reap were the amount of very young children, anywhere from 6 years of age that were out late at night selling postcards or bracelets or books to help their families make a living. We had a really difficult time with this, as we read that it’s the tourists that have created this culture of working children, as they make more money each month than if their parents go out to do similar or very physically demanding work themselves. What do you do? I don’t want to support child labour, but you can’t blame the families for this, they need to survive and it may be their best form of subsistence! We personally decided against buying from children (really heartbreaking sometimes), but I think each person has to draw their own moral line in SE Asia; it’s definitely important to be informed first before taking any action.

Why do I always get on a soap box? I almost can’t help myself! Ok, I am getting off of it. Again.

We hired a tuk tuk driver through our guesthouse to take us to Angkor Wat, one day for sunrise, and surrounding temples. I had no idea that the Angkor temples covered many kilometers and that there were so many temples. It’s a true temple-a-thon and you go armed with water and sunscreen and stamina. Seeing Angkor Wat for the first time is, I think, akin to (although I haven’t been!) seeing the Pyramids for the first time. It’s massive and intricate and sometimes defies reason when you gaze upon the many bas reliefs on the walls and walk through dozens of archways and hallways, all carved elaborately with images of Buddhist and Hindu gods and pictorial stories of legendary battles. Did you know that Angkor Wat was built around the 1100’s to 1200’s? I had no idea it was that… well, recent. And did you know the temples of Angkor were rediscovered only around 150 years ago and the many temples, spread throughout kilometers were hidden by jungle? Can you imagine coming upon such a thing when trekking through the jungle? Gah!

We went to too many temples in two days to mention, so I’ll give you our two favourites (besides the obvious Angkor Wat), which were Angkor Thom and Ta Prohm. Angkor Thom was incredible much more compact but with giant faces carved into the towers and stone work detailed enough to make you think of Gaudi’s cathedral in Spain (has anyone seen it? It’s very detailed and bizarre). It was a genuine step back in time and it was difficult to believe that at one time the temple was actually functional. Angkor Thom was also like a little maze, with the main tower in the middle, giant steep stairs, towers all around… awesome! Our other favourite, Ta Prohm was the perfect image of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Phenomenal ruins, some crumbling, secret passages and courtyards, overgrown with vegetation, and most impressively MASSIVE trees growing shamelessly out of the walls, their imposing roots completely enveloping walls. I couldn’t stop smiling, it was so cool! Loved it loved it loved it.

Our two day temple- fest left us completely exhausted, but it’s definitely a wonder of the ancient world that is a must see. Now quickly onto food and restaurants, there are two honorable mentions. The first is Cambodia’s national dish, Amok, which is a very concentrated coconut and onion based curry, originally with fish, but also made with chicken and beef. It’s served in banana leaves adorably shaped into bowls and it is f-i-l-l-i-n-g. Good grief, I had two bites and was ready to explode. But yummy! As for the first unrivaled, place winner in the establishment area, that goes to the Singing Tree Café

http://www.singingtreecafe.com/

. It’s like somebody read my mind about what I like, what I believe in, what I’ve studied, what I want to do… and shoved it all into one awesome little hippie joint! It’s eco-friendly, fair trade, organic, uses its own garden, has free internet, provides information on environmental and humanitarian programs in Cambodia, has seminars upstairs… oh ya!! And the food is amazing! And at night little frogs come out of hiding from the garden and hop around your feet! Ha! It really couldn’t have gotten any better. Scott found a brochure and fortunately we were able to go there on our final night. But two or three or more times would have been great…

In an insane twist of luck, on our night before heading to Battambang we ran into Bruno, an Argentinean guy we worked with in New Zealand. He’d just arrived at the same guesthouse. It was really good to see a familiar face for a bit.

The next morning we took the 7 hour boat down river to Battambang. Hmmm, interesting mode of transportation I say, the boat was for 30 but there were at least 45 of us so people had to sit on the roof in pretty intense heat. Luckily, that was not us, we got the last bench under the roof. Roofs are important my friends. We passed numerous floating villages along the way, sometimes picking up locals that would row over in their little canoes and hop on to the next floating village. We also managed to be violently whipped, numerous times by branches from mangroves in “river” areas (more like flooded mud flats or swamps) that were questionable in their size to squeeze a boat through. But no! Sometimes, say three or four times, we had to pass another oncoming canoe or boat through an area not even wide enough for one. That’s when practically the entire mangrove tree was inside the boat. Then we were drenched by the motor spray of a passing motorized canoe. Then Scott almost lost a tooth when a giant branch smacked him unexpectedly in the mouth. Then… there are too many incidents, let’s just say the ride was eventful and adventurous!

Battambang the city is uneventful in itself it’s more the surrounds of the country that appeal. Ironically, for a second day in a row we ran into people we knew, this time the Spanish guys we got along with famously in Halong Bay, Vietnam. As for activities, we did take in another cooking class, this time Khmer cooking, and learnt how to make curry paste (hard, but not as hard as we thought) from fresh ingredients and the national dish, Amok. We visited the market prior to the class which was, well, I’ll be honest, a bit gross. Dried snake anyone? Many other live things, mainly seafood flip, flop and writhe around in baskets. How long can a catfish-like fish (I can’t ID fish) live out of water?!?! A long time obviously because there were completely out of water and kept wriggling and jumping out of the baskets. These are not lung fish! I don’t understand. But ew.

We finished our time in Cambodia with the infamous bus trip to Bangkok. We read and read and heard and heard about the outrageously bumpy unsealed road you went on for 4 hours until you hit the Thai border, but although it was true, it honestly wasn’t that bad. The air con busting on the bus for the last half hour was a bit more unbearable (it was HOT), but otherwise, all too easy.

Sapa, Vietnam - Sapa and Halong in the mist

We have spent the last few days in Halong Bay, in the NE corner of Vietnam, followed by Sapa in the northern highlands just minutes away from the Chinese border.

Halong Bay is a Unesco World Heritage Protected Area. Local legend tells of a giant dragon that came down from the mainland and into the water, and as he went the land at the edges sank and his flailing tail left behind the 1,969 islands now in the bay which jut out of the water.

We began our 3.5 hour journey at 8 am in an overcrowded minibus to Halong City to catch what was known as our “Junk” boat. We sat beside the loveliest Vietnamese man, aged 20 and having saved up, was taking his mom and little sister to Cat Ba Island overnight as they were visiting from down south. He told me how a Vietnamese person had to save to even go out to a restaurant, so this was quite an event for the three of them. He also told us how he’d never been anywhere outside Hanoi, and how one day he would like to go overseas to work and maybe travel. He was such a hopeful and ambitious person, we gave him as much information as we could on where we’d lived and been should he realize his dream.

We arrived at the docks to utter chaos and got pawned off from one person to another to another to take us to our boat. Eventually, we arrived at the “Imperial Junk”. The boat was fantastic and romantic, and with a limit of only 20 people on the boat we got our little overnight room and headed to the top deck to catch the views. However, getting out of the harbour was another matter… bumper boats at the amusement park, as Scott called it. These large boats block each other in, and they literally smash the crap out of each other to push out into open water. Madness! And they don’t sink, there must be something special in that wood use for the hulls! We bumped and zigzagged and pushed our way out as the most amazing women on little row boats chased the larger ones, like ours, to sell them goods. These women were incredible maneuvering their little row boats while standing and straddling their boat and the large junks while making a sale. ANYTHING, including the doing the splits, to make a sale. Such marvelous and strong women, we were blown away by their stamina.

Our trip out to, and in amongst Halong Bay was more than we had imagined. Cliff faces punch out of the water all around you creating a labyrinth of jutted rock islands pocked with caves and the occasional sandy beach. Enormous hawks circle overhead repeatedly looking for fish which they then swoop to the water for and attempt to catch in their giant claws. The waters are calm and smooth, and the haziness made the islands further away look like they were behind increasing layers of veils.

After visiting some sprawling cliffside caves on foot we arrived at our docking point to go kayaking amongst the islands and into caves, something I desperately wanted to do! Scott, myself and two guys from Spain headed to the kayaks to be given oversized lifejackets that didn’t close and kayak paddles held together with duct tape. Go the duct tape! It fixes ANY problem, just ask Red Green (the Canadians understand this reference). I searched through the pile of jackets for any that resembled something that actually floated to be told by a guide, “It’s ok, fine, fine, fine, you fall in the water you just scream”. No, no, no! We can swim, swim, swim but could still drown, drown, drown! He wasn’t kidding though, so off we went, giant lifejackets and all. We kayaked for just under two hours and enjoyed every minute. We went through caves that led into coves that could be cut off during high tide. Scott and I found ourselves talking about where we would camp out for the night if a king tide were to suddenly swoop in! We saw a little sandy spot with a skinny, leafless tree, and decided that would be the hypothetical spot. Alas, no such thing happened of course, and we kayaked back out. Having done that we were up for a bigger, or should I say, smaller challenge. We found the smallest cave passage we could and sardined ourselves through the small hole with success! We had to suck in our breath and hold our paddles lengthwise, but how funny was it! High fives all around. Back to our Imperial Junk we went to watch the golden sunset and have some dinner.

Our plan had been to retire to our cozy boat room early, do a little reading, have a shower when all of a sudden the walls began to shake and rumble and we heard screaming: karaoke had begun at full volume. Out of our room we went to listen to the badly sung drunken ballads ranging from Lionel Ritchie to Abba. Other neighbouring boats became jealous and suddenly 4 Australians rowed over from their junk boat to join our obnoxious karaoke party! It was such a fun night, not the early night we had planned, but really funny nonetheless. A guy on our boat, just a little bit outgoing and named Daniel became our MC for the night and kept coming out with ripper jokes, such as “So let’s talk about what we did today… I went swimming in some faeces…” (we all die with laughter), “don’t tell me you didn’t see the faeces too!” You see, despite its world heritage status, the people of Halong Bay, as is the case with most of Vietnam, throw everything outside, or in this case overboard. EVERYTHING. Earlier, while kayaking we had passed by numerous floating plastic bags and pulled them out of the water and shoved them in the kayak. As yet, there just seems to be no education or awareness about protecting and keeping clean wild places, or even the urban spaces they live in.

After breakfast the next morning we sailed back to the mainland again, fortunate enough to see Halong in a different light of day and in slightly clearer conditions. We spent our 3 hour ride back to Hanoi cramped with the 2 Spanish guys at the very back of the minibus where they drew us a map and plan of action on how to tackle Spain when we get there, and we wrote for them what they should do in Australia, as that is their January destination. They also taught me how to swear in Spanish as I explained to them I had the innocent vocabulary of an 8 year old. I feel so much more grown up now!

That night, on the sleeper train, and in a compartment we shared with a snoring German man, we moved onto our next port of call, Sapa. Sapa was originally a hill station for the French and is now a beautiful little mountaintop town where many hill tribe villagers, primarily women such as the H’mong, Dzai and Red Dzao trek daily to sell their goods, mainly blankets and bags which they ornately hand- embroider. The hill tribe people are beautiful in every way, from their colourful traditional dress which they continue to wear daily, to their kind, warm smiles. They are also incredibly demanding: but with a giggle and a smile. Our path was regularly blocked by one woman or another opening her handmade blankets in front of us with the question/statement “You buy from me!?” Their voices slightly lilt up at the end to imply a question, but their assertiveness implies a demand. They also say it perfectly in French, same inflection: “Achetez de moi!?” We met with a young lady named Shol, aged 17 (I am inventing the spelling, this is how it sounded) who hooked her arm around mine and followed us through the town, chattering away about her ten brothers and sisters and how many did I have? Did I have babies? How old are my mom and dad? Remember that these women learn English from tourists, so their ability to speak it so efficiently is from hearing it alone. They are SO intelligent. Obviously Shol managed to sell me a bracelet I do NOT need, but after our thirty minute chat and walk through the town I had to give her the sale. She smiled warmly, laughed and grabbed both our hands and kissed them to say goodbye. Beautiful girl.

Our 13 km day trek from Sapa was a colossal highlight of this trip. We met our 19 year old H’mong guide Chan (pronounced more like Jane) and set off on our trip, followed by two additional H’mong women who were trying to sell us their bags and bracelets. The scenery was outstanding, and as we wound down away from Sapa we were able to take in a view of the entire town. The first half of our trek was simple and downhill through valleys and hills infinitely terraced with rice fields. The fog rolled in and out throughout our trek, and every turn around each corner revealed a new vista. We chatted to Chan about everything from the environment around us (apparently it’s incredibly green around July) to their education (children go to school from the age of 8 to 16, only primary is free, and high school has to be paid for) to being a H’mong female. Most of her friends, as is standard, have children by the time they are 16. In the past generations 10 children was not uncommon, but things are changing and 4 is now more the norm. Generally speaking, a girl is now allowed to choose her husband, family approved of course, but if she does not marry by the age of 21 is considered and old woman! I asked 19 year old Chan if she was married with children, and she replied “Nah, I don’t want to get married, I have things I want to do, I don’t care what they think”. Now there is a tough young woman! In her intimate village of 800 that must be a slight stigma to overcome… but no matter, she will do what she will do. Good for her! And her English was impeccable, again, learnt only from listening to tourists. She is brilliant! And does 13 km treks everyday! Can you tell we were impressed by her?!

The second half of our trek was a true trek indeed. We mucked our way through steep hills and rivers and mud and boulders, still followed by the other 2 women, who at half our size (literally) and wearing their traditional skirts with little sandals or no shoes at all, would offer us their tiny hand to help us get through tricky spots. We saw women doing the trek back to their village with their babies strapped on their back, as if they were taking a Sunday morning stroll along a paved path. They never set a foot wrong, and they were phenomenally strong. The 2 women also bequeathed us with handmade presents they made along the way from the vegetation along the path. We were given horse figures woven out of grass, head wreaths made out of ferns and flowers which they placed on our heads… as we overheard one woman doing the trek, we became human wall hangings. In total we saw two villages along the way, Lao Chai, which was Chan’s village where Black H’mong people live, and Ta Van with a large population of 3000 where the Dzay people live. Villagers all speak Vietnamese, but when in their villages they speak their own dialect which generally only they can understand. We did make a purchase at the Dzay village and the gorgeous old lady that sold us the item and a little girl (her granddaughter?) agreed to have a photo taken with us. They really like Canadians as there is a Canadian man that lives in Hanoi but has developed a close relationship with the hill tribe villagers and comes every couple of weeks to visit them. He has even spent their new year with them dressed in their traditional dress, which as Chan described looked ridiculous, but they liked it and found it hilarious nonetheless.

Individually, and the following day, we also walked to Cat Cat another H’mong village where we were greeted by a stunning waterfall and a lady selling rice inside bamboo which she heated over a coal pit, absolutely delicious and a great snack after our second mini trek.

Since we were such trampers in Sapa we rewarded ourselves daily by going to Baguette et Chocolat, a community project restaurant that hires and trains disadvantaged Vietnamese youth in the hospitality industry. The hot chocolate (that I spiked with rum): OHMYGAWD! Delicious. The pain au chocolat: WOWWWW! The waffle with banana and chocolate: WOO HOO! Definitely a worthy and deserved treat to go there.

Overall the contrast of the calmness of Halong Bay and the activity and life of Sapa perfectly rounded out our first week in Vietnam, and both were unforgettable experiences.

Patong, Phuket, Thailand - ...to the Beach!!

Arrived in Phuket in the morning, extrememly unpleasant landing. Windy Wellington aint nothing compared to this pilot! Never knew planes actually 'bounced'.

From the airport we grabbed a taxi to Patong. Nice little town, it has like a hundred million bars...and a beach.

Wicki has joined us for the journey and is my new roomy. So much stuff for sale on the streets, not 'stuff', like jewlery and stuff like that. We over indulged a little the first night in Patong, had a great time in the bars. They each have a novelty, something to do to keep you busy...and at their bar, as its kinda competitive. Played some Jenga (Yes, that wasnt a typo..Jenga)....and rounded the night off nicely with some Connect Four. Most of the people out were actually working girls, hanging out at bars looking for some work.

So the next day was spent on the beach...I wasnt brave enough to parasail, I left that to Wicki, Mark and Jodi. SPent the day relaxing in the sun, swimming on the beach and getting massages. The old woman also painted my nails...artistic talent isnt her strong point, she should stick to massages.

A lot of Patong was washed away by the Tsunami. A lot of rebuilding, especially right next to the beach, was still happening.

Am starting to get a little anxious about travelling to London, although looking forward to it...a little nervous about searching for work.

Hanoi, Vietnam - Everything Happens in Hanoi

We entered into Vietnam early in the morning after a 45 minute drive in a private mini-bus, the complete lap of luxury, we didn’t know what to do with ourselves! We got stamped out of Lao and crossed what is known as "no man’s land", essentially a few hundred meters of street belonging to neither country between Lao and the official Vietnamese border entry. It is here that we met Hai, our Vietnamese guide whose English was so fantastic that we dubbed him the Vietnamese David Beckham. He sounded exactly like him, the accent, the slightly higher male voice... Uncanny! However, he learnt English from an American teacher, so who knows how he managed to pull his lilt off.

Our first pit stop in Vietnam was the city of Vinh where we would catch our sleeper train to Hanoi. Despite Vinh being a large city, let me tell you, people of the tourist kind are a rare and strange commodity, as we very quickly surmised. Traffic slowed to a crawl, cyclists and people on scooters rubber-necked, children pointed and waved and market vendors yelled to each other to inform everyone the circus, uh, I mean we were in town. The four of us just kind of smiled and stared at the ground as we walked, afraid of causing an accident or being asked to do something ridiculous. We were astronauts just landed from the moon! Movie actors! Rock stars! In the market, someone grabbed my arm and started patting it. Yes, I’m real, not a ghost. No please, no autographs, we’re really nobodies! It was as amusing as it was uncomfortable, but the four of us managed to get through it and I think we were all grateful to have each other that way no one person got gawked at for too long. Oh, and Hannah decided to wear shorts that day (not the culturally acceptable to the knee cap type), so that really helped to divert some attention!

Our sleeper train to Hanoi was the real SE Asian experience. Tiny little compartments were jammed with even tinier metal beds with worn down, 1cm mats. At barely 5’4 I filled the entire length of the bed, so you can imagine the free show Katherine and I got when we got to watch Hannah who’s a very tall girl and Scott squeeze into their beds. We had tears rolling down our eyes and our guts hurt from laughing so hard, it was like watching Cirque de Soleil when the man gets into a tiny box, but in this case he can’t, and this is no circus. It was hilarious! And then Hai, our guide dropped a bomb by announcing that the sheets provided by the train sometimes didn’t get washed so there may be bed bugs, just a warning… so Katherine started taking her sheets back off, at which point Hai said the mattress was probably worse. Thanks, David Beckham! No more out of you, please! But no, he went on, and began to pick on Hannah about Kuan, our Lao guide, asking her if she thought he was handsome and did she want a Lao passport? Hilarious! It was honestly the creepiest, most uncomfortable and funniest train ride imaginable. Eventually all the silly kids fell asleep only to be woken up at 4:30 a.m. by loud Vietnamese music and what smelled like a couple of lit packs of cigarettes at the base of our door. The latter made me jump out of bed faster than the former. Alas, we were in Hanoi.

We were beyond exhausted upon arriving at our guesthouse, and all four of us slept until the afternoon in which we had our last guided tour with Gecko’s of the city of Hanoi. Our local city guide was a like a strict teacher, excellent in his information delivery, adamant about having our attention, and insistent on having two of us on either side of him, three and one would not do! We visited the Temple of Literature, dedicated to Confucius which later became a university (for men only, of course), and is now used for special events and academic gatherings; the One Pillar Pagoda, and the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum complex where Ho Chi Minh’s embalmed body is kept despite strict instruction in his will to be cremated and scattered in different areas of Vietnam, as he was of the people. Up until recently Ho Chi Minh’s body was sent to Russia between November and January where embalming experts would do the necessary maintenance and then he would be shipped back. However, Vietnam now has the technology and experts available to do this macabre task themselves. For lack of an appropriate word, the highlight of our tour was Hoa Lo Prison, or the "Hanoi Hilton", as it was dubbed by the Americans during the Vietnam War. For Scott and I the gruesome history of this prison really helped bring into light the horrors Vietnamese people fighting for independence endured by the French. The conditions in the prison were cramped, diseased and inhumane. The guillotine used by French guards against any dissidents is on display, alongside photos of the executed… they were really difficult to look at. Women with babies were placed in cramped solitary confinement… it just went on and on. We found out that some French protesters burnt themselves alive to display their condemnation of how Vietnamese prisoners were treated by their country. Also in the prison were photos and objects from American POW’s which were imprisoned in the prison during the war. It was really moving to see the photos of the day in which they were released in 1973. Photography really does capture a moment in time, and to see the faces of prisoners on the day of their release was an overwhelming experience. We are so glad we went to the prison, and as disturbing as it was to see, we learnt so much more about this history. It helped us to better understand Vietnam from its thousand years of Chinese rule to French dominance to the Vietnam War and the effect it had on the Vietnamese people and the soldiers from other countries involved.

Hanoi was also the primary spot to see the Water Puppet Theatre. This is an ancient and traditional art developed by the Vietnamese, in which they used to flood their rice paddies after the harvest making it a watery stage for a puppet show. In Hanoi this is recreated in a theatre setting and is sold out one or two days in advance despite its six showings a day. We’d never seen anything like it, it was really interesting and imaginative, but even funnier and stealing the show was the little one year old two rows down that could not contain his excitement and pointed, squealed and clapped until his little hands were red whenever a new puppet emerged or even moved. We ended up watching him more than the show, and, as is the rule of the theatre, the proverbial "really tall guy" with the additional benefit of a big head sat right in front of us and clearly had ants in his pants. Oh well

Our second afternoon was dominated once again by market and boutique shopping where the true, anti-shopping beast I have inside me finally came thundering out in SE Asia! I couldn’t take it! I felt cramped and fed up and bored and wanted nothing to do with buying a stupid silk dress/scarf/shirt, I didn’t care how unique it was or how many "cheap for you" promises were made. I did behave though (except for one mini tantrum) as we were with Katherine and Hannah, no point in bringing them down into my I-hate-shopping pit of despair with me, and especially as this was the end of our Gecko’s Tour and our travels with the two of them, which we really enjoyed.

Overall, we really enjoyed Hanoi and learnt a new life skill: how to cross a road with 200 scooters, 30 cars, 10 bicycle rickshaws and 2 stray dogs coming towards you all at the same time with no intention to stop. You step out, walk with confidence, make eye contact with the drivers if possible and dodge or give way if necessary. When the other side is reached successfully, you breathe. Nobody will ever stop for pedestrians. Ever. You are essentially a moving pylon, all you can do is hope that everyone swerves around you at the right time.

Chang Mai, Thailand - 3 Day Jungle Trek

The three days in the jungle went pretty fast!
Day 1: We all pile into the back of a ute and are taken up to our departure point. We sit down for some lunch adn get a chance to chat with the rest of our group. Our trekking group consists of 3 Spanish girls, 1 English girl (Vicki, but our guide calls her Wicki) and myself Jodi and Mark.
Then...the walking starts. We walk up very steep hills, we havent reached the shelter of trees yet so its extremely warm. My body is slick with sweat...quite disgustingly really. But I'm not alone. We rest next to a river under the shelter of a hut for some lunch. Boon, our guide, has made some fried rice and sticky rice for us (which he carried on his own back to the lunch site). The rest of the day is spent walking, we walked through rice fields, stopped by a waterfall in the afternoon for a break and a refreshing swim. The water was pretty cold, but oh so refreshing. The water was hard, pounding down off the rocks...you needed to keep a firm grip on your bathing suit if you wanted a back massage from the water! Besdie the waterfall was an old man hanging out in his hut, with his roosters. He was carving horn/whistle things...which were of course for sale. After the swim we headed up to the villiage of the 'Karin Tribe' where we were staying for the night.
Not a minute after we had got our bags off our back and gone back outside to check out our home for the night we had some visitors. Three young kids waiting for us to come out of hiding. They are very shy, no speaking, they just shove small baskets of bracelets and necklaces they have made, from wood and or rice, under our noses. As soon as you pick one up they find their voice...'50 baht'. Was so cute. So we all purchased a bracelet or necklace to keep them in business.
Sitting down for a rest with cold beer in hand was very welcome. The beers were stored in large chilled boxes that were locked when we werent there, they were a very reasonable price. The shower was four bamboo walls tied together with....you guessed it...bamboo, and a bucket that you filled up and poured over yourself. The toilet was a squat in a shed, and it had a door so that was great news.
We sat under the house, sort of like a carport, and ate our dinner by candlelight. Chicken and Veg stirfry, tofu and bean sprout with rice...delicious. So much food, we're all famished...but still cannot eat all of it.
We have a nice group of people. We all have a sing song after dinner, feels like school camp!! Is a good night and sleep is very welcome...although it is very hot and I dont think a good sleep is had by anyone. Then theres the 100 roosters that were awake bright and early!
Day 2: We are joined by a Dutch couple because the rest of their group have gone back. Loads more walking, Wicki is unfortunately ill today...and it wasnt even self induced. It rained a lot. It was nice, but it just made the walking track slippery in parts...which caused some comic moments. Stopped for another yummy lunch, noodles and veg this time.
The afternoon walk was a little more exciting....there was so much water....it covered our walking tracks. We're not talking getting our socks wet....we're talking getting our belts wet!! It was a great challenge, trying to balance on logs...that you couldn't see through the muddy water. Jodi went for a wash up to her armpits...hey, thay probably needed it anyway. Very quick thinking to save her camera though.
We settled in for the night at camp that was set up by a waterfall. We all jump in our bathing costumes and had a wash. Chicken and potato curry for dinner, our guide didnt carry all this food with him. He had other guys meet him at the camps with the food. This was our last night together so we endulged a little. The singing only got better as the night got on. There were about 4 locals there too, hanging out singing etc. I aquired the name 'Tiger Smile' over night, or maybe they just had the courage to tell me that night. I was given it because I am "happy and smile a lot, but can 'Grr'"...so there, make of that what you will. Our guide was great, Boon was relaxed, patient and pleasant.
Day 3: Wasnt that far to trek out of the jungle, to be honest I think we just went round in circles. We rode elephants the last day. It was quite an amazing feeling, knowing the strength and what they are capable of. They bit into bamboo like pieces of candy.

Went to a night of Muay Thai kick boxing. The ring was in the middle of a concrete stadium, chairs lined up around the sides. The night started with young boys (they were 14, but looked about 9) kicking the heck out of each other, then as the night on the contestants got older. Was a very exciting night, a sport of great discipline and bravery.

Spent the next day just hanging out, photos developed, flights to Phuket, nails and hair done (160baht, approx 5nzd). A nice relaxing day, ventured out to some markets in teh evening...it poured with rain, but before we were scared away Jodi and I managed to pick up some fabulous paintings from a young lad selling his wares. Magical.

Luang Prabang, Lao Peoples Dem Rep

So we entered sleepy Laos, what is, so far, the biggest surprise in our trip. This is a very poor country, with beautiful people, incredible food and stunning scenery. Lao (according to Lonely Planet the silent “s” at the end was added by the French) has been tugged at and intervened upon by many a nation, and the French influence in particular is very dominant in areas. It has only been sovereign since 1953 but has struggled to keep up with the rest of South East Asia since. In recent history, northern Lao was heavily bombed during the Vietnam War, endured trade embargoes and is now struggling to not be amongst the Least Developed Countries. Lao is in a landlocked position, and shares borders, some more official than others with China, Myanmar, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, making it a transitional point for many.

We arrived in Huay Xai across the Mekong from Chiang Kong in five minutes and almost immediately the economic disparity was evident. Huay Xai is a tiny border town and there we spent our first night in a lovely guesthouse. We were exhausted from our bus rides out of Thailand and crashed onto our rock hard beds (really crashed, we didn’t expect them to be completely solid, and it hurt!) to nana nap for a couple of hours. The evening was pretty cruisey; we walked to the temple atop a hill where two beautiful little girls were playing and posed by a temple statue for a picture. When they saw the photo they giggled and ran off! We watched the sunset from our guesthouse restaurant overlooking the Mekong, and there really is no sunset like it, the hills blend into each other and slowly fade along with the red sun. Lanterns were hanging from the wooden beam ceilings and one particularly enterprising kitty purred his way over to our table where we were drinking a Beer Lao (their national beer, very nice) and helped himself to Scott’s lap and mine respectively. Needless to say, we were stuck there longer than planned… I think he knew when we wanted to stand up because then he’d purr louder to increase the guilt factor at disrupting his cozy slumber!

We had dinner at another waterfront restaurant (now keep in mind, the town is one main street, so all eateries overlook the Mekong, and this is Lao, so get that image of the foo foo, posh, waterfront restaurant out of your head. It’s much more basic and charming than that) where our new local guide, Kuan, showed up with bbq’d chicken feet… on a stick. Told you “Things you can put on a stick” was a fun game! We asked him how you ate it, and he pulled a foot off, bit off the nail (relax now, I can hear your groans) and ate the toes, bones and all. Of the four of us Katherine and I were game (I was healthy finally, and after 5 days of nausea and a staple diet of crackers and water I felt adventurous), and we proceeded to bite off the sharp little chicken claw and eat a toe. But only one toe. Ok, only half the toe, but I did try it. Surprisingly, it tasted like chicken. But crunchy.

We had all read that the Lao Red Cross offered massages given by locals and that the moneys went directly into community development, so off we went after dinner. Unfortunately only three therapists were available and Scott was chivalrous enough to sit it out. What to say about Lao massage? It’s not what you expect! You are kneaded, smacked, stretched and not so lightly punched into submission. I had my arms locked behind my head with my legs crossed at one point while she pulled up on my arms and cracked my back by digging her knees in. Youch! At one point my leg was bent towards my back and then the floor, I thought, “Nononono! My leg doesn’t do that, oh ok, you made it do it, yes it does now.” Needless to say, the massage style in Lao is chiropractic meets physiotherapy meets deep tissue massage meets extreme yoga. Despite the pain (or was it pleasure?) the three of us walked out laughing and energized, so obviously it worked.

Our next two days were lazy, romantic journeys down the Mekong in a long boat, starting at 9 am and finishing at 5 pm. It was a great opportunity for snoozing, photography, and hours’ worth of reading. So laid back and relaxed, it was an abrupt and very welcome change from the Thailand bustle. The first day we did a midday stop at one of the Hmong peoples’ village and it was a scene right out of a movie. Beautiful and curious children ran down to the riverbank to look at us silly, awkward strangers and took us to their little village dotted with thatched homes and farm animals. You wouldn’t even know the village existed until you climbed the banks and were led in. Many villages in Lao still lead a traditional life of self-subsistence, and this is one of them. All the adults were away working in the fields, so only the children were left and two elders, a very smiley and welcoming man and a tiny, gorgeous old lady. We got a mini tour from the kids, and having asked permission to take photos, they then got a lesson in photography from me as they absolutely loved the camera. They all took turns pushing the shutter and seeing what they took to then descend into giggles! Scott then showed them the video and so it happened, as does universally, the boys gravitated to Scott and the girls hovered around us females.

It’s difficult to explain how a moment like that makes you feel. You feel overwhelmed with happiness at their attention and laughter, deeply distressed at the poverty, guilty about your wealth, proud of their traditional life and culture, humbled to be allowed to be part of it for a small moment… for Scott and I, it was definitely a moment we will never forget and feel so fortunate to have experienced it. It further puts your life into perspective. I officially fell in love with Lao children at that moment, and I’m still feeling enamoured.

The night was spent in the small port town of Pak Beng; you may wonder what I mean by port as the country is land-locked. The Mekong River runs the length of Laos (a very brown river) and is one of the main forms of transportation in Laos. Everything is shipped on slow long boats, corn, oats and even live buffalo who have figured out to stand very still side by side on the boats. Goods are offloaded in Pak Beng and then sent by road into all parts of the province. The town is basically one unsealed street with lots of guest houses and restaurants. We chose a restaurant and had chicken curry and koy chicken, an excellent Lao dish consisting of finely chopped chicken heavy on coriander and lemongrass and the obligatory chilies and sticky rice, along with a small sip of Mekong whiskey, 70% proof, yikes! An effective way to sanitize the digestive system! We then headed back to our guesthouse, where the electricity is only available in the evening, dotted with frequent blackouts and very cold showers in the morning, super refreshing, and definitely woke us up!

On our second day, we visited another village. Nearly all the homes had set up little thatched market stalls selling their gorgeous, hand woven silk scarves, bags and assorted jewelery, and were clearly accustomed to boats arriving to purchase their goods. I was immediately sucked in and purchased some very nice things, not telling you what. Hold on, this next sentence is written by Scott: If expecting presents the sad thing is that everything that Jenn purchases in a village with someone in mind she inevitably decides is too nice to give away and keeps it for herself. Hmmm. Yes, he’s right, I cannot protest… if you were me you’d understand! Anyway… further down river we also visited the Pak Ou Caves. The caves were carved in the 1800’s into a Buddhist temple and are a place of worship for those from Luang Prabang and the surrounding Mekong villages. The four of us in our tour were suddenly shocked and deeply troubled at the caves when some of the local people began to dangle tiny little cane cages in front of us to buy. The tiny cages contained different species of live birds, many chicks that could barely move. They essentially wished for us to buy them to “set them free”. Unfortunately, this is some people’s form of subsistence, and upon silly tourists buying the bird to “set it free”, the vendor easily catches and cages it again after the tourist leaves as they are unable to fly immediately from prolonged confinement or because they have not even fledged. As difficult as it was, we ignored the little cages and walked on. That is definitely a moment in travel when you have to take a step back and reflect upon why people and cultures do what they do, and consider how you can help to change a situation in a mature and positive way. Reacting instinctively wouldn’t help the situation. Having said that, there are some incredible programs held by many organizations in Lao that employ, train and encourage the skills of local people to help them become self-sufficient. A cool brochure I came across listed all the projects including a weaving one I'll mention below called Stay Another Day, but I can't find the site! Another site with information on local programs is http://www.laoredcross.org/index_en.php

We arrived in Luang Prabang in the late afternoon and the French influence was obvious immediately. The town is a perfect postcard on the banks of the Mekong and heavily dominated by French Colonial architecture and Buddhist temples. Apart from the visual fare, the choice in food was overwhelming, ranging from the obvious French and traditional Lao to Indian, Thai and Vietnamese. And the prices! You know you’re in SE Asia when… we ate a traditional Lao bbq (food is cooked in the middle of your table over coals with spices, garlic, veggies, meats, etc) and the total food bill for 5 of us was $7.50. You almost feel guilty… we also ate the most delicious vegetarian buffet, set up by a street vendor for 5000 kip each. That’s .50 cents. I know! This is why all us tourists, even if traveling with Lonely Planet’s SE Asia on a Shoestring guide, truly are rich.

Approximately one hour from Luang Prabang were the Kuang Si Waterfalls, which were a fairytale in themselves. Pale blue and pastel green mirror waters formed in various pools down from the main wispy falls and we went prepared! As the locals swim in clothes we took our surf shirts and board shorts and braved the clear, icy water. It was amazing, so refreshing and clean. There was a tree overhanging one of the pools with a rope… crowds watched as an American guy went along the branch, grabbed the rope and swung in like Tarzan himself. That was it! I had to do it! I climbed up to the branch and got stuck by my lack of arm length and could not reach the rope, so the American guy came on the branch, grabbed the dangling rope and passed it to me, whispering as he went, “Don’t worry, there’s no pressure, nobody is watching!” I turned back to see the crowd of dozens that had gathered on the bank, cameras at the ready, waiting to see the silly girl fall. I looked down. Bad idea. I gripped the rope as high as I could, looked up and swung myself out and across to the middle of the pool where I performed a perfect rope dismount, and with a small shriek crashed into the water! Picture perfect, I didn’t let my fans down! I even saw a photo, and the woman that took it said I looked like Jane. Yessssss!!!! Naturally I had to go again, but first Scott, who was able to retrieve the rope himself and managed a spectacular Tarzan, with a bit of rope burn. No pain, no glory! It was a fantastic time and left us awake and ready for the rest of the evening, dominated by market shopping and a painful but effective Lao massage for Scott (we told him it hurt at the Red Cross!) while me, Katherine and Hannah ran across the street for cocktail happy hour!

Our last day in Luang Prabang we all rented bicycles, an incredibly effective way to get around, and visited the Museum, formerly the Royal Palace for the 1975 exiled, and never again heard from royal family. The family line continues, but cannot return to Lao and it is believed they reside in France. Slightly out of town we visited Ock Pop Tok, which translates into East Meets West, a community development project where Lao women’s weaving is made, displayed and sold, completely beautiful stuff. All silk worms and plants for natural dyes are on site, and courses, 1 to 3 days are even available and taught by the local women! Their on-site café also serves traditional Lao fare, and Scott and I tried the ginger and lemongrass refresher and the iced cinnamon bael fruit tea. We were incredibly impressed by Ock Pop Tok, and wish we’d visited it earlier.

Overall, Luang Prabang was incredible, and the first half of Lao has been a fantastic surprise. Everything about this country at a crossroads is so impressive, and more time could easily be spent discovering and visiting these areas. One of the cheesy tourist t-shirts sold state “I love Lao”, and I’m seriously considering buying one. We do love Lao!

Chang Mai, Thailand - Heading North....to the 'Jungle'

ETA Chang Mai 7am.
Sleeper trains...a challenge for the freakishly tall people, although very logical. Its still light out when we leave Bangkok. So many people wandering along the train tracks, off home after work? Sitting down along the edge of the train tracks, eating dinner. Reflection of the counties wealth.
In the city people have little communities throughout, their temporary homes made up upon construction sites, under bridges, alongside rail tracks. The smells of the excrement stronger than you can imagine, and we're not even within spitting distance of them. (If Deken was here he wouldnt keep his lunch down for long at all) Classroom type setups under bridges, kids sitting listening and learning while the trains crash past overhead as does the traffic all around. Coming into Chang Mai in the morning, parents with their children, barefoot, side saddled on motorbikes and scooters on their way to school. Old women driving round on little motorbikes!

A swarm of locals flashing cards of hotels in our faces, we get picked out of the crowd as we disembark. A young lad takes us to a nice little hotel across from a playground, the grass is up to the waist of the children playing on the swings, but its a lush green and they're happy. I can recommend the HOLIDAY GARDEN VIEW HOTEL, the people are friendly and accomodating the rooms are of a good standard, they have a private pool out the back, and they have a small bar/restaurant. (Cost me 300 baht per night, single room w/ensuite...approx $10nzd)

Upon arriving we sign up for a 3 day trek in the 'jungle'...to interpret for those of you are New Zealanders, is simply a tramp in the forest. The ambience that is Chang Mai, quite the contrast to Bangkok. Wandered up the road for a look, a temple stands at the end of our road, the courtyard filled with people doing some form of meditation dance...Tai Chi maybe? Further down the road a young woman advertising laundry services, I took her a bag of clothes that were getting a little smelly, cost was 35 baht to wash everything in the bag...delivered with a smile, priceless actually. I get back to the hotel and sit down for a drink, look across to the playground and tehre are kids playing pingpong...using a branch as the net divider on their table. the streets of Chang Mai are a lot cleaner than those in Bangkok and the smells are sweeter. Mind you, I havent seen anyone come past selling fried chooks feet or insects since I've been in Chang Mai...maybe thats the key, the absence of the food stalls.

Chang Mai seems a little hotter than Bangkok, or maybe just more humid? Not quite as hectic here either, it is easy to notice the absence of motorbikes screaming round. Oh they're here...just not in the same numbers.

Chiang Rai, Thailand - Bangkok, Chiang Mai and to the border beyond

We arrived alive in Bangkok around 9pm after a bumpy, nail-biting Air Asia flight (mainly the take-off) from Phuket. Naturally, that morning the sky was blue for the first time we’d been in Thailand, but by evening the looming, ominous clouds had rolled in and the rain kept falling in sheets just in time for our take-off. I wasn’t the only one nervous, as the lady beside me had her legs crossed and her head in her hands, displaying all the body language of a nervous flyer. Her husband across the isle was also nervous but trying to be tough about the situation. I sat in the middle seat holding Scott’s hand, doing deep breathing and humming “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” by Bobby McFerrin in my head. As for Scott… he didn’t give a crap! Just sat there, and then stated that it really wasn’t that bad considering the weather. Aaaargh! Irrational thinking aside, it’s good though, imagine if we were both anxious wrecks, we’d both have ulcers by now with all the flying we have to do.

Bangkok is a bit of a sensory overload, and being in a state of recovery from being ill in Phuket, it made things a bit more difficult to deal with. Everything is overwhelming, the traffic, the smog, the food stalls, the vendors, the crowds, the noise, the smells… it is definitely a city to be tackled in good health. I refrained from eating anything but crackers and fruit and only drank water and ginger ale when I could find it, as the thought of or the smell of any food made me nauseous.

In the evening we officially begun our tour with Gecko’s and met our guide Al (that’s the shortened version, his Thai name is very long) and one of the people we were touring with, named Katherine. All formalities aside, we told Al we wanted to go to some markets to have a wander, maybe get some dinner. Trying to hail a cab was one of the funniest experiences. Al, being a local, but surrounded by three tourists would stop a taxi, talk to the driver, shut the door in his face and flip him the bird. We giggled, wondering why this was happening, and Al responded with, “He’s %#@ing crazy”. The taxis, you see, saw us with him and were trying to charge an inflated amount for the trip, without turning on the meter. By the fourth occurrence, the three of us moved away from Al so he hailed the cab alone, and what do you know? The driver agreed to use his meter at which point the three of us came running over and piled into the back. Strategy strategy!

At the markets Katherine and I went on a quest to find knee-length shorts which are not offensive in conservative South East Asia, but were slightly turned off when the vendors said to us repeatedly “It’s ok, have your size, extra extra large!” Wow, thanks. That’s incentive to buy, can I buy a new self esteem along with that 'cause it is now extra extra small… In all seriousness though, compared to the local population we are larger women. We only wished it was only extra large, not extra extra. Bruised egos aside we looked for food and were surprised to find an open air hawker’s market, where Katherine and I shared the compulsory fruit plate and water while Scott had a Tiger with some satays. And guess what was on a big screen hovering above the market? Premier League football, Manchester United versus Arsenal. Who ever knew the Thai people were such Man United fans? Oh, the cheers, the screams of horror, the roars, the shouts they made at the big screen! They gripped their chairs and pounded their fists in the air for their favourite team! The tension was thick! Emotion ran high! I can go on with the clichés! I’ll stop! Thank goodness Man United tied, I can’t imagine the ruckus if they had lost. Our trip back to the hotel was pretty uneventful, and Scott only had to shut two doors in taxi drivers’ faces before we got one with a meter (he did shut the doors nicely though and say thanks, and there was no bird flipping, that would make him a very rude tourist).

Our next full day in Bangkok we met the other girl on our tour, the very tardy Hannah, and jumped on the local buses to visit the Wat Pho (the Banyan Tree Temple), which has a reclining Buddha which is 46 meters long and 15 meters high. Just take a moment to imagine the enormity. Massive! And covered completely in gold leaf, really stunning. We also visited the Grand Palace, one the King’s residences where also stands the temple of the Emerald Buddha. Now the Buddha is of emerald colour, but is in fact made of imported jade, AND, there are in fact, three of them for the seasons, summer, winter and rainy, so they are switched accordingly! Back to the Grand Palace: the King uses that palace only for ceremonial purposes, during the coronation, or when other heads of state visit. The Palace is of Victorian design with a Thai design roof, so the Thai people refer to it as the building with western clothes with a Thai hat.

Our time in Bangkok was rounded off with some walking and shopping around and with a newfound game invented by Scott and I called “Things You Can Put on a Stick!”. It’s lots of fun, you should try it some time! We saw many unidentifiable foods along the streets, and I did promise myself I would be more open minded with my palate, but… easier said than done, especially when already sick. There are endless little rolled balls of stuff (meat? multicoloured?) on sticks, whole fish on sticks, bbq banana on sticks, little eggs that are obviously not from chickens (pigeon or quail?) with shells and all on sticks (one stick fits four), chicken feet on sticks… shall I go on? We also saw endless amounts of seafood and sea life and various parts of a pig, we think, and the notorious and personally distressing shark fins hanging from windows for the popular shark fin soup. This is just the tip of all the food we saw, we couldn’t even identify or imagine what a lot of it was. There is definitely no fussiness in the Bangkok palate, essentially anything goes my friends!

Two days in we took the overnight train to Chiang Mai. Music suddenly blared from speakers when at the train station. We were sitting on the floor with our bags (Al joked that he’d reserved the semi circle painted on the ground just for us). A video screen lit up with images of the Thai flag waving and the royal family, particularly the King. It was 6 pm, and all over Thailand it is customary in public places to play the anthem and to stand at attention during this time. Being a savvy traveler, I already knew this and we behaved accordingly, standing up straight, keeping quiet, hands at our sides. Thanks Lonely Planet! If I’d only been savvy about not stepping on money… can’t win them all!

Our sleeper train was actually pretty excellent, but c-c-cold! Set up as a bunk, the bottom seats facing each other became a bed, and the top bunk clicked down. All beds and bunks were efficiently made and organized by a very nice, quiet, but grumpy-dispositioned crew member wearing a mask who is probably sick and tired of dealing with stupid tourists and their bunk beds. Although the beds were comfortable, the lights in the cabin remain on all night (for safety and for the crew I assumed) and the air con vents are strategically placed to blast out their -30 degree air directly above the beds and onto your numb, cringing face (face, what face? Is my head still attached, because I can’t feel it!), where you lie shivering miserably under your little summer blanket. Mental note: warm clothing must be accessible when in South East Asian transport! Ok, lesson learned. I think. Will inform if I remember next time.

Chiang Mai was a breath of fresh air compared to Bangkok, and we were quite sad to only have one day there, we would rather have spent three days there instead. Our time in Chiang Mai was amazing. The city itself is much more relaxed and fresh, and the daily pace approximates that of a normal human. We tried a new and exciting form of transportation, the sawngthaew, which is essentially a covered pick-up truck (that’s a ute for all you Aussies) with benches down either side. You can even brave death itself and hang out the back if you wish. Alas, we were not feeling like extreme sports that day. Our trusty driver wound our way up to the base of the Wat Phra That Doi Suthep Rajvoravihara (temple) where we then further climbed another 306 steps to reach the temple itself. Once at top you were rewarded with beautiful buildings, mosaic art and a view of Chiang Mai. Our guide Al took us in to be blessed by a monk with spring water for a safe journey and then we split into male and female groups, the males to have a white string tied around their writs by the monk, and the females by the apprentice, and fully initiated monks cannot touch women. We also kneeled in another area to shake a tube with numbered, wooden sticks. The one that falls out then relates to your fortune which you take with you in paper. The whole experience was fantastic and like nothing we had ever done before. Scott and I both kept our fortunes, but ask me where I put it?!? One backpack and you can still misplace your things.

Our next activity was especially exciting and one of our favourite yet: Thai cooking lessons! The four of us went with our adorable teacher Pui to the markets where she taught us about different fruits and vegetables we had never seen before. We diligently followed her around with our little cane baskets, buying ingredients like happy little Vegemites (that’s like good, healthy little children for you Canadians). We then went to the fabulous outdoor cooking school where we learnt how to make Pad Thai (Yummy!), red and massaman curry (Yum Yum!), chicken and coconut and tom yum soup (Mmmmm!) and sweet sticky rice with mango (Ohmagawd!). Who knew it was so simple?!?!? It really is, we thought it was highly involved and complicated, mais non! We promise to cook you Thai food next we meet, sans food poisoning!

Our evening was dominated yet again by night markets where I devoted my time to buying trinkets from people whose photo I actually wanted. Fair exchange, I say. Both parties in transaction left satisfied!

The next mode of transportation was the local bus, of the fancier, and severely over air-conditioned variety to Chiang Rai where we then switched buses to the no frills, air-conditioning via open doors held by bungee cords variety to Chiang Kong at the Laos border. Personally, I preferred the latter after we all made a mad dash to the back of the bus where there was leg room. Now, we’re not being fussy “westerners”, but we literally could not fit in the other seats, Scott barely squeezed in with his legs stretched out over the two seats. The back was heaps of fun though I thought, five of us thrashing around over every bump and pothole of the unsealed road, our guide Al bobbing his head up and down excessively with a big grin on his face during the 3 hour journey. It was hilarious! Particularly with my full bladder! It’s funny how an uncomfortable, bumpy and slightly painful bus ride can become one of those favourite moments, but it really was for me.

And the end of Thailand was upon us already… we said goodbye to Al and headed to the customs office to get stamped and board our little boat across the Mekong into Laos, where I will continue our story…

Bangkok, Thailand - Arriving in Bangkok

Arriving in Bangkok to meet Jodi, who's flight was due to arrive 15 minutes before mine, felt quite surreal. I was a little worried about trying to find her in the airport amoungst it all...as it turns out there wasnt really anywhere for her to hide anyway.
Easy peasy, and customs...not sure they know what it is in Bangkok.
Jode and I jumped in the que for the taxi, standing like giggling little school girls in the beautiful warmth that was Thailand. How exciting.
The hotel seemed to cater for most at breakfast time...an interesting assortment of fruit, potatoes, eggs (somewhat vanilla in flavour), bacon/ham stuff (well it tasted similair), pad thai, stir fried rice, stir fried veg, cocktail/breakfast sausages...they were Kinda scary looking, I gave them a wide berth. What a great feast though...if you're into that sort of stuff for breakkie.
We wandered the streets, ran into a man who 'has a friend in New Zealand', he was very nice and helpful...directed us to all the shops we should go to...even found us a tuktuk driver who'd take us right there, conveniently enough. It was extrememly humid, especially for us little whities. We must've looked like we were 'fresh off the boat', our skin slippery and slimey, drenched in our own sweat. MMmmmm.
So we were taken to a fabric shop where the tried to sell us clothing, make suits to fit us, skirts, shirts, you name it they'd make it for us. Tick number one off on the list of scams to experience. It was all a great time.
Our hotel had a pool we could lounge beside, close you're eyes and you're on a beautiful beach...open them and you're looking into the back of a block of cruddy apartments. Unfortuantely seeing how the Thai make a living on next to nothing, you can understand why they live as they do.
So what else is there to do other than to have a cold drink or two. Jode and I met some of the locals at a friendly bar down the road. The bar full of women making conversation, and hanging with us. Was nice talking to them about their work, when buying them a drink it costs twice as much as ours....got the picture now? But they were a great bunch of girls. Some a little young, so that was a little sad to see. Jode met a friend who had some birds trapped in a cage, and she got to make a wish and free them...dont remember how much it cost her. Tick number two.
Mark flew in from NZ, and quite rightly joined us at the bar. The women were even MORE friendly now.
The markets in Bangkok were unbelieveable...way too much to be able to see absolutely everything. There were pets galore there too, although somewhat upsetting to Jode to realise the squirells were actually tied to the cage. Crazy place to go, especially if you're clostrophobic...but the smells, the people, the food...an experience to embrace!
But leaving that all behind for greener pastures....we board the sleeper train to Chang Mai.

Sandakan, Malaysia - A tick on life's to do list

How to begin writing about a time in your life that you have dreamed about? Being in Sabah, Malaysian Borneo was like a fantasy, I couldn't begin to imagine being somewhere equally exotic and wild as plagued with the problems of reality. Unfortunately for me, this moment was heavily marked with being as sick as I can remember in a very, very, very long time. Everything hit me at once, the never-ending headache, runny everything, plugged everything... couldn't see, hear, taste or really enjoy anything properly. Fortunately Scott was fine and I don't think I passed anything on to him. Nevertheless (do I have to say it?), Sabah is incredible, and the bigger the wildlife/plant or green anything enthusiast you are, the more you want to explode with happiness, whether healthy or sick. Wow, I have so much to write about, I'll try not to ramble on.

We stayed at a lodge called the Jungle Resort, set a 5 minute walk from Sepilok Orangutan Sanctuary, one of only 4 orangutan sanctuaries in the world. The sanctuary is protected jungle which covers several square kilometers, and where orangutans (one of the great apes, our 3rd closest cousin with a 96.4% genetic match to us) that have been injured, confiscated, or left as orphans are reared by the sanctuary staff, rehabilitated and essentially taught how to "be" wild orangutans again. Once they are mature, they are released (with some exceptions) back to government-protected forests in other areas of Borneo. The sanctuary has 2 daily feedings, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. In the morning the orangutans (which by the way, means "man of the forest") are fed bananas and milk, and they looooove it! About 6-8 of them made an appearance and they feasted on their fruit. When they eat their bananas they break the peel down the middle lengthwise and then push it in their mouth as they pop out. A very cheeky appearance was also made by wild macaques that would take turns, or not, making wild runs for any bananas that the orangutans didn’t down quickly enough! The macaques put in some great effort into stealing the show! The afternoon feeding consisted of milk and what looks like long green beans, and I mean LOOOONG, like vine stalks. If anyone knows what that was specifically, please pass on. In the afternoon session a mother and baby swung in, and the baby was hilarious, a total and complete trouble-maker. He jumped off mum and started pulling the fuzz on another orangutan’s head, he tried to wrestle, jump on him… mum didn’t give a crap, just sat there eating her food until about ten minutes in where she got up, picked up the scrappy little baby and sat him down beside her and in front of the food. As Scott said, she was telling him “Ok, enough play, time to eat your dinner”. And he did. Need I say, adorable!

Ok, this paragraph is where I get on my soap box, I have warned! And the following applies to essentially every animal I write about in this entry. There has been HEAVY deforestation in Sabah (Malaysian Borneo), most poignantly for palm oil plantations. You can drive for endless kilometers and see nothing but palm oil plantation, dotted with palm oil factories, harvesters etc. It’s so different to hear about it, as opposed to seeing it yourself; it’s just difficult to understand its extent. Palm oil is found in many, many, many food items we buy, i.e. cookies, crackers, chocolate etc., and it’s listed in the ingredients. The big issue is that native forests are cut down to make way for the plantations. In the process there is an enormous loss of habitat and sometimes animals, such as gibbons and orangutans are purposely splayed because they are in the way. That’s how many young are orphaned. The key issue is that the palm oil industry is not regulated, and companies don’t need to state where the palm oil came from, therefore the demand for palm oil continues and so does the deforestation and habitat loss. So, what YOU can do is write the equivalent of your Minister for Foreign Affairs in your country, and demand that food companies act responsibly in their purchase of palm oil and state where it came from in their ingredients list. It’s not about destroying an entire industry; it’s about responsible and sustainable growth, and consumers knowing what they are impacting when they purchase a product. Alright, jumping off my proverbial soap box now. See, that wasn’t so bad! Ah! PS: if you want to know about the Orangutan appeal connected to Sepilok, visit: www.orangutan-appeal.org.uk. Oh, here’s a link (I think this is it) to an ex co-worker of mine' documentary trailer, she made in Borneo. She knows a lot more that I do as she’s spent a lot of time there: www.youtube/watch?v=4sTyJ8PTwZc

Also on our wildlife agenda was Turtle Island which was a 45 boat ride from Sandakan. During the day we went snorkeling just off the beach and came across the feistiest fish you ever did meet. He was about the size of Scott’s hand, was black with a yellow stripe, and would NOT back down when we happened to snorkel over his little hidey-hole. Whack! He aimed towards Scott’s head! Thunk! He head-butted my goggles! He was screaming “Get away from my #$@& seaweed hidey place!” (Not making that up, I am a fish whisperer. Yes, I know, another talent…). Scott made the mistake of resting his knee at one point on a bit of sand off the coral, and he swam his little fins off towards him and nipped him on the knee! At least, we think it was him, if not it was his Italian cousin, Vinnie the mafia-fish. Scott after all, did get whacked! He won, of course, we went back to the land, where the humans belong.

That evening we were fortunate enough to see a greenback sea turtle come to shore to lay its eggs. The island has a conservation program and the rangers regularly identify and tag the turtles, remove the eggs once they have been laid and re-bury them in a controlled, predator-free area where the eggs have a much higher hatch rate. Once they hatch, the little ones are released into the sea again, hopefully so that a small percentage survive to the age of 30-50 when they are able to reproduce again. And yes, numbers of sea turtles have declined dramatically and they too are endangered, not because of natural factors, but because of us. It’s fantastic they have these programs in place to try to balance out our damage. Oh, do you want to hear a funny (well morbid, really) fact about sea turtle mating? I did not know this. The male has a “claw” on each flipper that allows him to latch onto the female so she can’t get away while they mate, and during this long process she has to swim him around, and come up for air with the male attached to her so they don’t drown. The funny/morbid part, is that sometimes more than one male wants the female, and they all try to latch on, sometimes dragging her to the bottom too long in their “Who’s the man?! I’m the man!” struggle, and drown her in the process... What the??? Another factoid from the fascinating world of nature.

The most surprising part of our trip to Borneo, as we enjoyed it soooo much, was the Kinabatangan River. We stayed in a riverside lodge where we had to use mosquito netting at night, and the wildlife, both plant and animal was profuse! We got to the lodge by crossing the river in a rickety, powered canoe tied to a half-submerged jetty. Wow, is it ever “fun” to walk on an angled, slippery half-drowned jetty with all your crap! Our limits of balance and coordination were tested to the maximum! Needless to say, success was our game, we were like Olympic athletes on a balance beam when crossing it. But with bags. And it’s wet. And we’re not Olympians. And my runners are soaked. Again. God they smell.

Ok my wildlife aficionados, here is a list, carefully compiled by moi and our trusty boat guide Aloy of what we saw that was identifiable! Before we begin though, we didn’t see the pygmy elephants which are found along the river also; apparently we were about one week too early from when they arrive in that area. Bummer. At twilight and sunrise (but not necessarily all in the same trip) we saw: Long-tailed macaques (TONS, they are sooo cheeky!), pacific reef and little egrets, Proboscis monkeys (which was a thrill and a half as they are endemic to Borneo and are very shy of passing humans but there they were, males with their harems in trees hanging over the riverbanks), white-bellied and house swiftlets, oriental darters, swooping swallows, stork-billed kingfishers, crested serpent eagles, lesser fish eagles, silver langurs (another primate), a monitor lizard, a mangrove snake and pied, black, bushy crested and wrinkled hornbills. And that’s only what we identified and saw! Imagine everything else! All the birds and crocodiles and insects and plants and frogs…. And this is with major habitat loss! Imagine what must exist and what has not even been discovered? Imagine what was there before? Incredible. Needless to say, those were unforgettable canoe journeys and wildlife lover or not, it’s thrilling, and I would HIGHLY recommend it. The morning boat ride was at 6 a.m. but how beautiful to be up before the sun and to hear the echoing sounds of frogs and insects first, only to die down and begin hearing bird calls you’ve never heard before and then to see hundreds of dragonflies begin their morning fly-around to dry off their wings and look for food along the river banks…. It was so beautiful, definitely a moment to never forget.

Then it was back to the city of Sandakan. We took the local bus into town from Sepilok where we were staying, and whatever you imagine a local bus to be in the middle of Borneo, you are correct. Chairs falling apart, overcrowded at times, people smoking, standing in the open doorway when the bus was moving… the 40 minute journey took a very bumpy and leisurely hour and a half, but what an experience! On the bus we met the self-titled “two distinguished gentlemen, who were from Kuala Lumpur and were in their 70’s. What a crack up those two were! The ultimate team, like Siegfried and Roy, Bonnie and Clyde, Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Seventy year old Hardy boys, agile as agile can be, full of smiles, and telling us tales of all the mountains they’ve climbed, and kilometers of world they have walked… and this is as senior citizens! We had dinner with them in Sandakan, and took their photo, they were so lovely. And yes, the photo is out of focus, I could spit! We also met two Canadian women doing some hard-core backpacking. They didn’t know where they were going, how they were going to get there, where they were going to stay, or where they would be next. We got lots of tips on packing light and South-East Asia from them. Again, such nice people. Ah, one thing I absolutely have to tell about the bus is the lovely music they blared, as loud as possible over the speakers: Malaysian metal. Oh yes, there is Malaysian metal indeed, and I can now inform you all that no matter what the language, all metal songs, somewhere within their lyrics scream in a very Smashing Pumpkins/Metallica/Guns and Roses manner : “HHHEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YYYYYYYYYY, YEAAAHHHHH!”. Remember, sound must imagined with raspy, throaty metal voice.

Alright until the next one….Over and out. Wait!!

Canaussie rating time my friends!

Jack fruit: 3, tastes good, but gives me tingly mouth and throat I’m so excited to continuously discover my many hidden allergies!

Sepilok Orangutan Sanctuary: 5

Turtle Island: 3, it’s good to see what they are doing, but many things are difficult to see. Better to go diving if you have a certificate, it’s supposed to be amazing

Kinabatangan River cruise: 5++++

Malaysian Metal: hmmm, 2. Unless you really want to listen to metal in a bus in Borneo

Auckland, New Zealand - Blindly heading where many have gone before me

Bag packed, unemployed and blindly heading where many have gone before me.

Dreams of fun, exploration and adventure.

First stop Sydney. For a bit of sunshine, R&R and whatever else I seek out. Although this is my second time in Sydney, the first time I was 15 and travelling with my Mummy, I must admit I am a little excited about things.

Georgetown, Malaysia - Salamat Datang

We arrived in Penang very early in the morning, and having gotten up at 4:30 to go to the airport, we were exhausted. Our taxi driver was very friendly, welcoming us to Malaysia, and having a bit of a chat with Scott when he told him he had lived here. As we drove past areas our driver kept asking Scott if he remembered any of it, but since he was a child when he lived here, he didn’t remember much. The place where we stayed was called Hotel Mingood, and the staff there were incredible, wearing naught but smiles on their faces (and clothes, of course) and offering advice and brochures on what to do from the moment we stepped into their lobby. We went up to our room, spacious with baby blue walls and large windows, nothing glamorous, but right out of a movie where you see the major star staying “someplace, somewhere” overseas. Then we crashed. Until 1pm! Could not be helped, we were just so tired. Never fear though, readers, the adventure did follow!

We spent the afternoon having a bit of a walk around Georgetown. We were centrally located, and I’ll have to admit, I was a bit surprised by the narrowness of the streets and how run down the buildings were. Many buildings are of historical significance, and are as beautiful as they are old. Despite having been in countries where I have seen this before, I guess I just wasn’t prepared for it, or had a different picture in my mind from having heard stories of Malaysia.

We walked along Lebuh Chulia, which is a street dotted with guest houses, hostels, trades shops, mechanics…lots of variety! We stopped at a corner eatery which specialized in Tandoori, and very quickly learnt that the owner picked out for us what we were going to eat. “You will have Kashmir naan with Biriyani”. So we did. Then he dropped a small bowl with a sweet called kendali, which was quite good and said “try it, you will like it”. So we did. Overall, a yummy lunch experience, local restaurant, no thinking about menu items required! Our walk back met us with a downpour of rain. No, I digress, a torrent of water fell suddenly from the sky and left us dripping and laughing, and eventually not caring anymore as we walked under mother nature’s fully-powered shower head and back to our hotel room. (See attached silliness video of silly Scott in silly rainstorm).

Our next escapade is where we defined ourselves intrepid indeed! Having had a chat to our lovely hotel staff, they told us they could organize a scooter for us for the day and that would be the cheapest and best way for us to get around the island where Scott had planned. But of course, as I’m the one covered to ride a motorbike, little Jenn braved what I think of as the “relaxed chaos” (will explain later) of the Malaysian streets, bravely rode back to the hotel to pick up her husband and off they went! Super-scooter girl and her man! I will say that the attention you get being a female driving a scooter with a male passenger is insane. Workers calling out from their trucks, honking, staring, staring some more… did I say staring? It was quite funny and gave Scott and I a lot of enjoyment. Now by relaxed chaos I mean that there is no indicating, no following of lanes, no going in the right direction, lots of cutting people off, but it’s ok, like everybody is thinking, “no problem, man, cut me off, share a lane with me, cause I’ll do it to you later!”. They really don’t care.

We did a whirlwind tour of the north of Penang on our trusty little scooter, visiting the Wat Chayangkalaran (the reclining Buddha Temple), where Scott and I found the Buddhas for the year we were born. We then crossed the road to the Burmese temple. It’s difficult to describe temples in writing, because they are flashing with colour and vibrance, yet you feel peaceful and so much tranquility when inside them. In every temple, every corner, wall, statue is unique and completely beautiful. We also went to the kek Lok Si Temple, the largest temple in Penang, set up on a hill. To get to it you weave up through market and vendor stalls, selling everything from pins to t shirts to hand-made jewellery. It was a fantastic walk up, and the view of Penang once up there was worth the uphill trek in the heat.

The Botanical Gardens in Penang are not what we are used to in Canada or Australia. It is obvious that the lack of funds have made it difficult for them to maintain their grounds, and unfortunately many areas were closed when we went. However, the gardens are still beautiful like a family park and many families were picnicking there. A very interesting specimen to view in the gardens is the hungry monkey. What, huh? Hungry monkey? There are monkeys running rampant through the park! The second we got off our scooter Scott said, “Have you seen it?” There was a monkey at the entrance, and he proceeded very calmly to go and sit on somebody’s scooter. I had a very touristy reaction and shook Scott and exclaimed “There’s a monkey on the bike!” Unfortunately people feed them, which is against the law, that’s why they walk around closely to humans, and can become a bit aggressive. People, just DON’T FEED THE MONKEYS! DON’T EVER FEED WILDLIFE! Ever. Anywhere. Any type. Any country. Ok, got that off my chest.

We also went across on the ferry to Butterworth. We negotiated with a taxi driver to charge us per hour and take us to specific spots, such as the air base where his dad worked, his old house (it’s abandonded, up for rent, anyone interested?), and his old school which is now a school for the deaf. It was a task to get the taxi driver to take us back to the ferry again, as he was obviously milking the time we were in the cab with him. Here, let’s detour to this temple, oh, let’s go to the bird sanctuary, what was that restaurant you went to as a child? Yes, yes, thank you, that’s ok, we’ll go back to the ferry. Ok, ok, but now I’m going to drive safer and slower than every Malaysian owning a vehicle in this country, let’s go 40 km/h, like I’m 80 years old driving in the country on a Sunday morning and point out lots of sights again on the way back, are you sure you don’t want me to find a Thai restaurant? Thank you, thank you, ferry please! We did finally get to the ferry, where there were outdoor vendors, and I bought some type of battered, fried plantain, yummmmmm! About 10 pieces for 1 RM, which is 30 cents, give or take.

One of our favourite places in Penang was the Red Garden hawker’s market. Yes, food again, I know! But honestly, it’s just so damn good! We went 2 nights in a row and tried chicken wings (very different than the wings people think of) with very spicy chilli sauce, grilled corn, spicy green beans and char koay teow, which is an incredible noodle dish, made with some sort of egg noodles, and the flavour… incredible. We’re also in love with Malaysian coffee which is very dark and strong, but they sweeten it with something akin to butterscotch and put a bit of milk in. It’s just delicious. When they prepare it, they “stretch” it, pouring the coffee from the metal pot to the cup from up high, making it froth. I asked one of the guys at the market what the coffee was called and he wrote for me “copaly taray”. Stretched coffee! I repeated it back to him and he killed himself laughing, I’m not sure if we were laughing together or if he was laughing at me! That’s alright, after only a week Scott and I are getting used to that already. Ok, canaussie rating time. For scale, refer to blog #2.

Hot almond milk: 3+ it would depend on your mood. It’s like a steamer.

Char koay teow: 4

Fried plantain: 4+ what a good snack!

Dragon fruit: 3, not a strong taste

Kek la juice (sour plum): 1 too weird, almost salty

Riding a scooter in relaxed chaos: 2 for scary factor, 5 for cheapness and flexibility!

Sydney, Australia - Arrive in Australia, Visiting the Neighbours

Off up and over the Sydney Harbour Bridge to escape the hustle and bustle that is the city of Sydney.

Absolutely divine weather to do the bridge climb. We go through the brief training session, don our super spunky jumpsuits and caps. (Jumpsuits especially desgned to breathe, keep the warmth in and the wind out. Although I guess it depends on who you are and how much of the wind is actually OUTSIDE the jumpsuit...am I right Grant?) So for the next couple hours we spend our time climbing and descending ladders, oohing and ahhhing at the city and its surroundings. Loved it, also very infomative if your brain is a sponge (most unlike mine).

The rest of the trip was spent visiting friends and family, or for me...meeting some great people. Who I hope to meet again sometime in the near future.