In Asia, taking the first price is often taking the worst price. You try to haggle, you shop around, and then you buy. In China, this sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. Most Chinese want something simple and can’t be bothered haggling with calculators or speaking numbers slowly enough to be understood. Some would rather just avoid attempting to communicate with foreigners altogether and will tell you things like the bus is full. This, unfortunately, was not the case as I priced out tickets from Dali to Lijiang. The first bus with availability was at 1:00, 45 Yuan non-negotiable. OK, thanks, I’ll be back. The next place had no bus until 1:30, same price. 1:00, it appeared was sold out. Back to the first place to get a 1:00, and they now had nothing before 2:00. I ran back to the other (friendly) place to find nothing until 2:30 and finally just booked a ticket. So it was that I arrived in China’s prettiest town at China’s best guesthouse just in time for dinner.
I literally walked in the door of Mama’s Naxi Guesthouse and was told to have a seat as plate after plate of food was brought to our table. This veritable feast cost 10 quai or about $1.50. After dinner and some chit chat around the table I claimed the bed that Eric (my friend from Montreal), Charlotte and Geraldine (both Belgian) had saved me as a result of my ticket plight. It was quite conceivable that my first night would be passed in the guesthouse chatting with nothing seen of Lijiang except the bus station from which Mama picked me up, but I wanted to get a feel for the place so, camera in hand, I hit the cobblestone streets and meandered. The town is sectioned by three main canals (and many smaller ones) that once served as Lijiang’s water supply. Today, you’d have to be a xeno-biologist to draw water from the wells and canals, but regardless of these new inhabitants, the town exudes an undeniable charm that immediately whisked me away from Mama’s.
I came first upon a small square selling various snacks. One side of the square is bordered by a canal, the first one I came across with a small bridge leading to a restaurant and a chef sitting on a bench watching the waters disappear around a bend. There was a hubbub of activity here, almost all Chinese tourists, which I found rather entertaining. Further into the streets things quieted again and crossing another bridge I looked into the water myself to see a string of lily-shaped candles floating along the canal like stars in the midnight sky. I watched as a few more candles straggled along and then looked up to see that I was on a smaller canal lined with shops and each shop had a plank crossing the canal; its tenuous connection with the rest of the world. Chinese lanterns lent a red hue to the scene and inside one of the shops, a man demonstrated a traditional Chinese flute with a melody that floated through the streets like the canals that give Lijiang its charm. And charmed I was, to an almost hypnotic state by this quaint town.
Perhaps visited in a different order, my impression would’ve been different. Further along the flute faded and was replaced by clashing music from various nightclubs all vying for the hordes of Chinese customers. ‘Traditional’ bands, entertainers, DJs (they still have that annoying “I’m a DJ, drinks are $2.99 at the bar, I love the sound of my voice” voice), karaoke, and loud music. And I’m not sure whether a horde or throng is a larger unit of measurement, but there were both. Rather than being revulsed however, I was thoroughly amused at the Chinese partying, dancing, and having a great time. Sure, they’re tourists, but they’re still Chinese, and I’m here to learn as much as I can about Chinese culture. Surely the way that they let loose is a part of that? Still, any with a fear of crowds, touching, or furtive photography had best stay well clear. I made my way between the competing sides to a stall where a young couple was buying two of those flower candles I’d seen floating earlier in the hope of a good and long life together and watched them walk down to the canal and kneel before the waters, at last placing them in the mild current and releasing their destinies to the whims of fate.
I walked along some more to the end of the strip of bars and saw the smoke from one bar dropping from above and giving the water below a bridge a mystical appearance and snapped what is one of my favourite photos of China. Here, in this touristed and loud quarter of the old town, I think I captured the essence of why I love it here. And, I hope, I managed to make my point to those who might find themselves here yet. After some more exploration of stone bridges, twisting side streets, and hilly backdrops, I returned to the bar strip and saw Charlotte and Geraldine waving me in. They were sitting with a Chinese couple who were quite plastered but having a great time. There were no less than a dozen beer on the table for the four of them, most of which were untouched, and the Chinese woman pushed one in front of me then raised her cocktail in a wobbly but enthusiastic “campay!” The battle was joined. We had a great night, myself and the Belgians, and paid not a cent for it. The Chinese were quite happy to supply drinks for the honour of sitting with us (or more accurately, I suspect, two good-looking – and blonde - Belgian girls). And we were quite happy to party with them. I did pull my weight as best as possible with my disappearing popcorn trick(s). Hot blondes of the world, watch out!
The next morning merited a sleep in and some overdue time on the internet. Eric had invited me to the small village they were going to bicycle to, but I just couldn’t be bothered. It also allowed me to wander the old town a bit more by day, in some of the smaller streets I’d missed at night. For dinner, I was joined by Charlotte and Gerri and then Ori, our Israeli friend from Dali, arrived. The three of us went for drinks at Cherry Lane (next door) and were later joined by Eric and a couple pretty cool German guys, whose names I can’t remember. It was one of their birthdays and we closed out the Cherry Lane taking a few beer for the road and then found a nice spot to sit on the steps and visit some more (as well as a place to pick up yet more beer). The night was capped by a serenade from some wandering Chinese guys, one with a shirt with built-in VU-meter and one with a guitar and a karaoke voice. It was a great group and I was sad to be leaving them in the morning (which came far too early, by the way) to go with Eric to Tiger Leaping Gorge. But the gorge would provide its own adventures and surprises, including two old friends.
As most of these stories start, I stepped aboard some form of transportation; in this case, it was a minibus. The trip du jour was from the Laotian city of Luang Prabang, a world heritage listed city of temples, to the Laotian town of Vang Vieng, a Lonely Planet listed town of tubing. It may not sound like much of a tradeoff, but tubing is consistently one of the things backpackers talk about when they rant on the wonders of southeast Asia. Just a six hour trip and I, too, would be among those floating down the Nam Song river. That should be enough time to make a serious dent on a new book, or so I thought. Instead, my eyes would be glued to the windows the entire trip, which lasted closer to eight hours than six. Stepping on the bus, I was comforted to see that I knew pretty much everyone – in varying degrees – aboard. A Swiss couple that had been on my slow boat from Thailand, three Germans I was supposed to have drinks with last night (they were late and I wound up having drinks with other friends, assuming they weren’t coming). Perhaps my situation would’ve been helped had I had a drink or two with the Germans, instead I was tired, slightly off-balance, and about to do some of the most winding roads in all of Asia.
Nausea, sleep-deprivation, uncomfortable seating, winding and narrow roads, none of that really mattered in the end. It was hard to dwell on anything besides the breathtaking views on all sides once we got out of Luang Prabang. Minibus experiences vary with driver and vehicle. They are usually packed full (even if they must delay extensively to do so) but some may have air conditioning or comfortable seats while others might have a broken seat requiring a volunteer for the floor. Our van was great. Sometimes drivers fill the van with their smoke, are perpetually grumpy, crank the bad music up (and/or sing along), or drive as though in training for a new land-speed record. Our driver was great. His name was Doi, he was very friendly (even making photo stops!), and he played good local music at reasonable levels that we all agreed was very apt to a road trip. So it was a great trip with breathtaking scenery and good company. Aside from photo stops, we did stop at the usual snack points. The first was largely a collection of fruit and sandwich stands, and I bought a bit of each. There were a bunch of local kids around, not begging, but definitely wandering from person to person looking sad and hungry. While I’m not really up for giving out money, I gave each of them some fruit and saw a few others doing the same. The rest of the stops were ordinary, which, if I didn’t mention, was fine, because the scenery was anything but.
Yes, it was a beautiful trip. I’d heard good things about Laos, but never the beauty of the country. So it was a surprise bonus. Maybe now I’ve ruined it, maybe I’ve oversold it, but I don’t think so. Maybe it was one of those days where you just wake in the right frame of mind, where you see miracles everywhere you look: in your life, in your fellow man – family, friend, or perfect stranger – and out every window. Yes, maybe it was just one of those days where you shake your head, put your problems in perspective, and appreciate what is good in the world rather than worry about what’s not. I can’t decide if I’d rather believe this was and would forever be someplace magical that I could always come back to when my perspective needed correction. What I do believe is that this perspective adjustment shouldn’t be necessary in the first place, that there is certainly a way of training ourselves to accept things as they are. I suppose I’ve been hanging around in Buddhist countries too long, but I do wonder if unhappiness is the result of seeking happiness. And following that line, I guess I’ll have to disturb some meditation to ask the difference between seeking happiness and contentment.
Philosophy and scenery (and did I mention perfect skies) behind us, we made it into Vang Vieng and the adventure drive was over. Until we got on a tuk tuk, that is. We’d all agreed we’d pay no more than 5000 each and they wanted 10, so we walked. 20m later, they came after us and had agreed on the already over-priced 5. I’d had Champa Lao guesthouse recommended to me by a neighbour in Pai, and when he asked where we were going, that’s where we asked to be taken. Why he asked is beyond me, as he took us to a completely different guesthouse that was expensive and doubtless paid commission. We insisted that we’d paid to go to Champa Lao, however, and he was pretty good about taking us there without argument. Finally. The guesthouse overlooked the river and was quite reasonable at 35000 per night ($4). It looked very relaxed and was quite well located and I definitely recommend it. They had a room for me and a room for Nicky and Micha (my German friends).
The three of us wandered the town and looked for a place to have dinner that wasn’t playing Friends. Really, you can’t walk around the town centre at all without hearing the guitar riff at various points in the show (commercial breaks, intro, etc). Almost every restaurant is playing it, though a few are trying other shows like Family Guy. You have to be here to experience the all-encompassing spectacle of it. We found it difficult to find decent food places anywhere near or around the town centre, and while walking back to our guesthouse in defeat, I noticed some locals having a very Laos-looking dinner and thought that whatever they were eating, we wouldn’t have found it in any of those restaurants back there, and to me that was a shame. I must have been staring a bit as I tried to figure out exactly what they were eating, for they smiled as only people from Laos or Bali do and bid us a good evening. We returned the greeting and by way of explaining my gaze, I told them their food looked “seb lai” or quite delicious as we kept walking by. They invited us over to try their food, and I wondered if I’d sounded like I was hinting instead of just passing a compliment. We didn’t want to eat their food, but we did take a closer look at it and they insisted that they were finished and wanted us to try it. Instead, we asked where they’d gotten it (mostly from a lady across the street) and went and grabbed some food to join them. BBQ fish, various spicy vegetables, we all shared some food, drink, and conversation.
The next morning, I had breakfast at my guesthouse – sticky rice with mango! They did a great job of it that rivaled Thailand. Yum! And of course, a fruit shake, apple-mint. Micha (I called her Michelle) and I went tubing at around 10:30 that morning and hopped a tuk tuk with a few assorted others… a Canadian, Irish, and three Canberra Aussies. The number written on my hand was 10, which meant that I was only the tenth person on the river that morning. I would later discover that the bulk of the crowds come around 1-2 PM, so we pretty much had the river to ourselves. So there I was, finally, tubing in Vang Vieng, one of the deciding factors in my trip to Asia. And let me tell you, it’s nothing like what I expected. First of all, it is actually anything BUT tubing. Yes, you get on a big tractor inner tube and float, but literally 50m down the river, you’re off and grabbing a drink at the first bar. We actually missed it this morning, but were pulled into the second by staff on hand to help tubers escape the current. There were drinks (by the bucket as needed) and there was, in this case, a flying fox dumping you unceremoniously into the river.
Every bar has its gimmick. The first bar has the highest swing (trapeze style) into the river. Get a good go at it, and you’re looking at a 10-15m drop at the highest point. Of course, if you don’t drop at the highest point you’ll have a good deal of horizontal velocity when you hit the water, so a high drop is usually a good idea. Other bars have volleyball, badminton, free shots of Lao Lao (local moonshine-whiskey), anything they can think of to get you off your tube and off your wagon as well. As we were a small group (which wasn’t so bad, as they were friendly) occasionally joined by other drifters, we didn’t have to wait at all for drinks, swings, jumps, badminton, or anything. It was a quiet, relaxed, journey back into Vang Vieng from where the tuk tuk dropped us and we enjoyed the scenery as we made our way down. The trip itself take two hours floating it, but with stops, we spent about 6 hours floating home. Back at the guesthouse, I had dinner – Massaman curry. It was as good as any I had in Thailand, and perhaps even better! I would have this dish several times more before leaving. Then, in contrast to our quiet day, a night out at the Smile Bar, the big club across the river that closes every night with the “Na na na nas” of Hey Jude. We had ourselves a hut there and, with Nicky back among us, finished a great day.
Nicky and I went rock climbing the next morning with Adam’s. We found a cheaper price at Green Discovery, but we thought we’d get more climbing time with two of us and support a local guy rather than a chain. A mistake, and I suspected as much, but Nicky was fairly adamant and I do like the idea of supporting the locals. In this case, however, the locals brought us to the same place as GD (we knew this in advance) and because we had a joiner in the morning, we had as many climbers per guide as they did. Not that it mattered, both of us were too out of shape to climb straight through the day. Plus, the others had a more fun group and in the end we all hung out together. I made pretty good friends right away with James (English) and chatted with Molly (Sweden) and Grace (English). As for the climbing, it was a beautiful place for it. Not only is the view over the valley quite pretty, but the rock is littered with handholds. That didn’t make it a cakewalk however, not by a long shot. The entire wall is an overhang, which sheltered us from rain but took its toll on our upper bodies. And the handholds were not always where you’d want them to be. So we did a 5C, 5A, 6A, 6A+, and a 6B. I couldn’t do the 6A but finished the 6A+, which was a thrill. But I was too far gone to even attempt the 6B so only four climbs in the end and soon we were all out sitting at a Friends bar. I’d simply meant to meet outside the Green Discovery office with everyone, but the first arrivers decided to sit. Fair enough, I’ll have dinner and drinks at the Friends Bar. Part of the VV experience, I suppose.
It was a good night and people trickled out, leaving James, the German girl I’d been chatting with, and myself at the end. She was a bit of an enigma. I thought her quite unfriendly climbing, talking to nobody except James unless directly queried and then a short answer, but as I was at one end of the table and segregated from conversation by a talkative English-Indian girl on my side and the German girl sitting quietly on the other side, I struck up a conversation as best I could. She turned out quite friendly to my surprise, and even though she had a boyfriend (who was traveling separately for a month?) both James and myself left thinking that their separate trips were perhaps more separate than we had imagined. Nevertheless, the three of us had made a plan to meet in the morning for kayaking if we awoke in time and if not, to meet at 11:30 for tubing.
I was beginning to feel the constriction of my timetable. How I was to do the rest of Laos, Cambodia, Borneo, Philippines, Vietnam, and China in two months was beyond me. I knew I’d have to cut countries from the itinerary, but I still didn’t want to waste a day doing something I’d already done. So I dragged myself out of bed for kayaking, but the other two did not. I tried to go anyway but I was too late in the morning to join their group so my decision was made for me. Then I thought to rent a motorbike and explore, maybe go to the Organic Farm for some mulberry pancakes, but they drain the gas from the bikes before they rent them, leaving only enough to make it to the gas station. And the power was out again that morning. I passed the remaining time in the Friends Bar (without power, it was just a quiet place to have a fruit shake and wait) and met up with James – no sign of the German girl so perhaps we were victims of wishful thinking. The power came back, as did Friends, and breakfast too. Then a bit of internet and we were on the river around 1:30.
What a difference from my first round of tubing! First, we had to wait in line to get a tube and then again for a tuk tuk. Secondly, I was now 178 on the river. Thirdly, I had a drinking buddy instead of a German girl and a loose confederation of tuk tuk crew. We went to the first bar and I ran into – for the third time – Naima, a French girl I’d hung around with in Pai. We sat with her and her friends for a bit but they didn’t seem especially interested in us joining and then we ran into Molly, the Swedish girl from climbing and her friend. They were much more amicable and we finished our Beer Lao together before James and I took the biggest swing on the river; High, scary, and good enough fun to do again. I don’t advise running off the edge though. If you don’t lose your grip as the rope tightens and plummet straight down face-first then you’re in for a LOT of height at the other end. I recall yelling “It’s too high” to the many spectators as the swing hit its peak and begun moving backward. And then deciding I wanted to let go on the first pass and dropping. Not a pleasant landing, though James had a worse one. You can always tell a bad landing by the fact that the jumper swims in with his back to you. Don’t let them see you cry or something to that effect.
We had our next drink at the next bar, I a vodka-watermelon-banana shake, James a rum and coke. Everytime I went to this particular bar they tried to short change me, I should add. We met up with Molly again and then also ran into Grace and Jenny from climbing. As well, two girls we’d seen denied a tube for some misdemeanour the previous go-round (their 6th, apparently) magically appeared, I suspected on their own via tuk tuk. Which meant that there would be a shortage of at least two tubes by the night’s end. Still, we had another round of vodka shakes, which we toasted and chugged while flying down the flying fox, each with one arm on the handle. An Aussie girl and her friends were impressed with our coordinated cheers and we chatted with them for a bit before realizing that the slowly dwindling crowd had turned into noone. We were last left and two tubes short. So floating down was the order of the day, though I hung on to the Aussie girl’s tube. I owe her one and I can’t even remember her name. I actually don’t think I saw her again after the next bar, but we did receive a warm reception for our method of navigation and made some new friends as well as running into old.
It was now James’ turn to buy. He came back holding a bucket of tiger whisky (ugh!) and coke. We resolved to finish this crime against nature quickly so that we could drink something palatable again. And I don’t remember quite which stops we hit after that. I do recall that James, myself, and the Swedish and Norwegian girl visited for quite some time. I’m pretty sure we stopped at the volleyball bar and I lost James and Norway. And I know that I got back after dark because I remember thinking that I didn’t at all care for floating down the river in the blackness. At least that way, nobody could see just how little my stomach liked the Tiger Whisky, and I had the river to wash away the evidence. A baguette and some water and I awoke laying sideways in my bed at 2:30 in the morning, unable to fall asleep as the hours marched their way towards 7:00. Yes, I didn’t feel great, but I was going to go kayaking today and I could pay my penance properly for being an idiot the day prior. I got there at 8, booked my kayak trip for 9, and went to the Organic Café to finally try one of these mulberry pancakes with honey. Good. Really good, I’m sure, though my stomach was indifferent at best, but not so amazing as I’d heard. Clearly, all these people raving about them have yet to try Saskatoon berries.
I made my way to the kayaking place and sat to wait. There were a few others sitting, but I recognized noone so I sat on my own and waited. About 30 seconds later, I recognized Grace and then Jenny as the ones I’d kind of looked right at and then sat down away from. Oops! Explain that one, and now they were in the middle of a conversation with two people I’d passed in the street uttering, “Disgusting!” and the like. Such was my state that I wondered and worried that they were talking about me and regretted not looking more carefully in the mirror that morning. Honestly. Maybe something on my trunks? In my hair? Anyway, we were all on the same trip together and I’d soon put my mind at ease that they were not discussing me at all. Because they spent the entire rest of our trip complaining about food and, well, everything. And they wouldn’t shut up. The guide couldn’t even introduce himself at the beginning of the trip because he didn’t want to interrupt their ‘conversation’ and they didn’t stop to breathe.
No, I’m convinced they had some sort of special lungs that allowed them, by speaking negatively, to convert all that discontent to oxygen. As long as they were whining about something, breathing was not necessary. And now I’m in danger of whining about them, but at the risk of hypocrisy, I am hoping you can understand just how hard they tried to ruin a beautiful day. In addition to food complaints (and the woman was a bit larger, but not large enough to merit food discussion every 30 mins), they allowed no one else to really speak unless through them. I was hoping to chat a bit with Grace and Jenny and apologize both for not recognizing them instantly that morning and also about tubing the night prior, but then SHE’D butt in with her opinion on tubing and then turn to ask her really dumb (well, he’d have to be to marry her) husband his opinion which he would then expound and she would harshly critique. There was no room for entry at this point. They pirated conversations! It was quite ingenious actually; because they’d made themselves a part of your conversation, you felt rude ignoring them and starting or resuming your own, so you were stuck sitting and listening as she somehow turned the conversation back to bad food and sending it back to the kitchen and how her palate was so much more refined. WHAT THE ARE YOU DOING HERE?!
Anyway, there was nobody to rant to, and if a guy can’t rant in his own journal, then where? So the kayaking trip passed with the guide and I exchanging bemused glances at times, a constant source of noise from them (we always kept a good distance), and little chat with or by anyone else. But I wouldn’t let it ruin the trip, it just required effort (a lot) to put aside and focus on what was good. The scenery, for one thing. Sure, it’s the same VV scenery I’d been surrounded by for a couple days, but in the morning the clouds wisp across and there’s something about being in a kayak on the river viewing it that is magical. We also did two hikes into caves, which were just challenging enough to cease conversation. And the caves themselves were pretty cool, we lit candles and swam through and looked around. Lunch was also decent; shish kebab and fried rice. I finished my first spear of vegetables and beef quickly so that I would be ready to spear one of the loudies should the food complaints arise, but instead they remarked in an uncomplimentary way that it was probably the best food they’d had in Laos. And then the food complaining started and evolved into complaining about Laos in general. I secreted apologetic looks to our two guides who were polite enough to sit there and endure all this farcical criticism of their country.
In the afternoon was our second cave, hidden between bars on the tubing circuit. As well, we stopped at the Organic Farm and had a look around. Goats, tropical fruits (especially mulberries), and a mud house greeted us. Then we were done and walked back. I came across a few locals at a stand having some soup that looked quite nice and sat there for forty minutes chatting with the two ladies that ran it while eating my soup. The conversation was about many things, but turned to children and family as the one woman who was mostly listening started feeding her baby. She was bottle feeding and as they brought up the topic of breastfeeding first, I felt it okay to wonder aloud that it must be difficult to do so in a country that lives on spicy foods. And this got the quiet woman talking about just how difficult it was and telling stories of back in the village and also the things she’d have to do to maintain decent nutrition while staying away from spicy foods. And she also talked about others who thought it made the baby stronger and just ate what they ate. This was one among many topics but I think it underscores how the conversation was not just the usual tourist-talk stuff.
I still didn’t feel great that night and it was an early one. I’d meant to pack but couldn’t find the energy. I’d do it in the morning and catch a bus out to Vientiane. Except that I slept in. OK, so the afternoon bus. I packed, showered, and went outside for brunch, a shake, and to sit in the hammock and read, something I’d still not done in this wonderous guesthouse. I ordered breakfast and my shake and grabbed a hammock but wound up chatting with a Dutch girl who looked Spanish and admiring the view rather than reading. I did get the hammock though. Then my breakfast came, I ate, and I returned to the hammock where we talked a bit more. Another fruit shake later and I moved to the triangle mats on the ground then James randomly showed up (he had no idea where I was staying and was just looking at the view from our guesthouse). I decided to just sit and enjoy the day. This was Vang Vieng, relaxation central, and I hadn’t just sat around and done nothing yet. James ordered the Massaman curry for lunch at my suggestion, then I had some chicken and veggies and yet more shakes. We sat and discussed the tubing for some time and then philosophy and travel and were rejoined by Evita, the Dutch-Spanish girl with a name from Argentina. And the day was one of relaxation and eating, and a night of dinner in a quiet restaurant where the family slept in booths and took turns being ‘on watch’ for when customers like us arrived for late dinners. It was a beautiful dinner, a beautiful day, and we said our goodbyes as I wandered back to my room to sleep a last night before continuing my journey south to the Laos capital and the Chinese Embassy.
Dean grabbed his rucksack from the floor of the thatched bungalow and headed for the door. Pai had been so good to him, the small Thailand town had developed an identity and then proceeded to befriend him and almost ensnare him with its wiles. It was a difficult place to leave and many never did, but the door swung closed and he walked one last time across the rickety bamboo bridge to the minibus that would whisk him away to Laos. It would not be a short journey. The trip today would be at least eight hours on the road, finishing on the Thai-Laos border in a town called . The two days after would be spent on a slow boat down the Mekong River, always straddling the border but never returning to Thailand, to a Laos city called Luang Prabang. A three-day tour, if you will. And he was not looking forward to it. Reports had come back that the scenery was beautiful on the boat for a while on the first day, but that it quickly became a bunch of backpackers crammed onto a boat and stuck their for two consecutive eight hour days. The upshot, even the most dire reports admitted, was that this bonded the travelers together in a way that only trauma can, and you left the boat with many new friends on the backpacker circuit. The minibus chugged up the mountain leading out of the valley where Pai is situated as Dean pondered the 1750 baht ($60) fate he had purchased himself.
Pai’s hills and valley faded into plains as the minibus wound its way to Chiang Mai. The travelers were not so unlikely a grouping. Dean, a Canadian, an English couple off to do the Gibbon Experience on the Laos-Thai border, and three Thai off to Chiang Mai for a bit of business. Dean was upset to learn of yet another couple that had no problem corresponding with the gibbon people, and they were delighted to talk with someone even if his contribution to the conversation was mostly half-yawned oh yeahs. It was an early morning and had been a late night for Dean, who had spent a good part of it chatting with his Irish neighbours and then watching a movie. On the halfway stop, he announced to the English couple he was going to try to sleep the second half of the voyage. And indeed, getting in, he closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable. The English couple, having forgotten his decree moments earlier and eager to be friendly, talked to him anyway. This half-awake state made their parting in Chiang Mai all the more confusing; after all, they were going to the same place, but the driver instructed Dean to disembark while the others stayed on. Lunch and a new mostly North American minibus crew awaited and the confusion was forgotten as the new minibus sped its way to the Thai border.
The crew were not especially impressed with their most recent addition. The Canadian that stumbled on was bedraggled and looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Further, the one little bit of empty space in the van was now occupied by his bulk. Still, he seemed friendly enough if not especially talkative and soon was adopted as one of them. There were now five Canadians, two English, and one Aussie. With a group like that, it’s no surprise that when the minibus finally reached the border they all reached for a beer, though the stillness of the town kept them to a low-key chat. They also had to be up early for the border crossing in the morning, which left at 8 AM. For some reason, it costs Canadians more money than any other country in the world to enter Laos, but $45 later, the entire group was in Laos, crammed into a tuk tuk, and herded into the slow boat that would serve as their home for the next two days. That is, after purchasing a pillow for the hard seats and floor and recruiting an Australian girl named Kylie into the fold.
The slow boat is a long contraption with moveable benches that truly define the term half-assed. It was only a matter of time before some benches were shuffled and pillows were put to floor. The trip is a long one, sixteen hours spaced over two days cruising on the Mekong River amongst beautiful hills, misty and veiled lightly in cloud, stopping from time to time in local villages where occasionally locals would jump on or off and more often children would jump along the rail and go up and down offering fresh fruit. There was also a bar on the boat and of course we left equipped with a sandwich for lunch, but the fresh fruit is one of the best parts of traveling the tropics and many of the group picked up green mangos, pineapple, and melon. As the kip is quite weak (8500 kip = 30 baht = $1), locals are all too happy to take money in Thai baht or US dollars, especially at their exchange rate. So, beautiful scenery, small villages, a winding river, and sitting around watching it all go by over a drink or two and some conversation with yet more newfound friends (including a Californian girl named Rachel who is probably secretly related to Julia Roberts) added to the crew, most of whom were American.
The first day ended in a town called Pak Beng, where most of the group roomed (for 300 baht per night) in the ‘recommended’ guest house. Unused to paying so much, Rachel, Erin, and Dean found another room for the three of them where they paid 50 baht each staying with a funny and delightful woman named Mama Shute. After some much-needed showers, the group rejoined for dinner; most tried a Laos dish called Laap/larp, which is essentially minced chicken, pork, fish, or beef, which has been marinated and then barbequed. There is no electricity after 10 PM which led to an early night which, in turn, led to day two of the trip. There is a rumour passed along the backpacker circuit that only the first day has much in terms of scenery, but this is a flagrant lie. The second day holds scenery that is as, if not more beautiful than the first. Hills turn to mountains which occasionally turn into limestone cliffs and karst. Even if this weren’t the case, half the reason for the boat ride is the people to be met along the way. The emphasis on ‘the crew’ is not an accident, nor is the rather awkward third-person narrative. Travellers on the same path meet, make friends, and perhaps depart, but inevitably cross paths again and again. With so many in the same place for two days, this means that a lone wolf will likely find at least one or two to form a pack with along the way. Or at least play a good game of telephone pictionary, where everyone alternates drawing and captioning as interpretation and poor artistic skills morph innocent (and not so innocent) sentences into twisted messes.
Luang Prabang arrived just in time for most, neither too soon nor too late. As the crew disembarked, Dean was surprised to hear his name called out and see Dan, an American he’d met in Singapore, waving at him from shore. The crew split here, in a sense, as everyone went seeking guesthouses; Dan had a second bed in his room and so we shared one of the cheaper guesthouses in the city (Namsok 3, 25000 each per night) and then went out. Dan had business to do and so didn’t join in the crew that night as it reunited at the excellent night markets, but he did leave some good advice on a bar of choice, the Lao Lao Garden. The group met for drinks and Stuart, one of the English fellows, bought bucket after bucket of alcohol with only 20 minutes to curfew. Yes, everything shuts down at 11:30 here and locals are mostly expected to be home by midnight. There are exceptions however, mostly tourists, tuk tuk drivers, and, for some reason, a bowling alley, the last refuge of the drunk.
So it was that the crew crammed into a tuk tuk with two Swedish girls, making the total 12, and they bowled a few rounds. It was a fitting end to the complete unity of the crew, a fun night out with some making plans for tomorrow and others content to do their own thing and run into whoever they might along the way. Dean was in the latter category, especially since many of the others were planning a boat trip back upstream; he had no interest in either the cave they were planning to visit (and its 1000 buddhas) nor in sitting on a boat again. The next day was a rainy one without electricity, which seriously limits options in a small city like Luang Prabang. Dean and Dan drained their laptop batteries working on photos and while Dan went looking into options for procuring a Chinese visa, Dean grabbed lunch and explored the town. Dan had booked an overnight trip to Vientiane that day to get his visa (hopefully) there, and Dean was on his own for the first time in almost a week. A quick wander into the night markets turned up Christian, the quiet Aussie of the crew, and they had a beer before ending a much-needed quiet day.
The next morning, Dean was following Dan’s advice and setting off for the waterfall via tuk tuk in the morning (rather than taking a tour there in the afternoon). Tom and his wife, neighbours in the guesthouse, were doing the same, so the three decided to split a tuk tuk. At breakfast, they overheard four Americans planning to do the same and the seven paid 25,000 each for a big tuk tuk to take them there, wait three (which then became four) hours for them, and return; A new crew for a new day. Kuangsi Waterfall is an hour’s drive from LP and probably one of the most beautiful falls out there. The water is milky blue, crisp, and cascades relentlessly. Many photos and hiking paths later, everyone had converged at the top of the falls looking down at some lovely pools high up in the falls and wondering how to get there. The path was never found (though attempts were made), and descent back to ground level revealed that the swimming places were further downstream. It was some beautiful swimming, the group jumped from waterfalls into the crystalline waters below, off trees, everything that could be safely jumped was jumped. And their early start meant they had it mostly to themselves.
Dean also met a German girl, Michelle, rather randomly by asking her to take a photo of him jumping the falls. All his group was in the water and she was standing and admiring the waterfalls. Through her he met her travel companion, Nicky (a guy) and thought they seemed a nice pair as they wandered off. The Americans likewise agreed and plans were made. They were a really cool foursome, mostly engineers though Megan was an anthropologist. That didn’t stop her from becoming involved in geekly activities and specifically EWB, Engineers Without Borders, of which she was president for their university. They were here to do some volunteer work bringing running water to a Laos village, checking a Thai village they’d helped several years back, and of course travel.
Dean wandered the town, straying from the tourist area when they returned to LP. He found two restaurants filled with locals and decided to join them in dinner, whatever it was. Outside the tourist areas, English speaking isn’t exactly common and the menu is in Laos script, scribbled on a piece of cardboard. But upon sitting down, he was instantly offered a shot of whisky and some food from the neighbouring table. Then he shared his beer with them and later his food and it was a good experience if not a good meal. The meat was tough and, according to the owner’s gesticulating, was horse. More pleasant fare was to be had in the markets, where Dean was reunited for dinner with Michelle and Nicky from the waterfall. More market exploration separated the threesome, but they had agreed to meet for drinks after dropping stuff at their guesthouses. Dean took his time and some photos of the full moon over Luang Prabang and was surprised not to find them. He had been called from a different bar by some people he couldn’t quite recall having met… until it dawned on him they were the Americans he’d spent the day with at the waterfall.
Very embarrassed, he apologized for having asked what now seemed some really stupid questions and joined them for drinks. Hayden, a very soft-spoken Englishman and part of the crew, overheard Dean’s voice and joined the festivities as well. We were allowed to stay and finish our drinks well past curfew and Hayden and Dean wandered back to their neighbouring guesthouses to find a girl panicked about losing her purse. They tried to help as best they could, going to the police and everything, but nothing could be done until morning, which, given that it was 4:30 already, was not far off. Yet another road trip was about to start in a few hours to Vang Vieng, south 6 hours. The cycle was complete as the trip to Luang Prabang both started and ended with an overtired Dean on a bus with people he would come to know and spend some time with.
I crossed the border to Thailand on foot in the baking sun with an Irish couple and a Dutch guy I’d shared a cab with. We had about 15 mins to catch a train at the station 1km away, so all of us hopped on motorbikes and got to the station and jumped on just in time. My destination for the night was to be somewhere in the Tarutao National Park, so I had 4 hours to Hat Yai where I would move from train to bus. During that time the train filled up and I definitely was not in my seat. A local girl, probably around 16, appeared to have the seat beside me, but she just put her bag down and went, ostensibly, to sit with her friends. She didn’t say anything to me, but the Thai sitting across with whom we’d been chatting said that. Still, I’ve lived in western society long enough to be paranoid of unattended baggage, even if I’m aware that it is indeed paranoia. Whatsmore, with it placed beside me I was doubly worried that there may be something in it that I wouldn’t want someone to think was mine. The girl was nowhere to be seen, and the Irish couple was getting quite worried indeed and it was adding to my own concern. At our next stop we were evicted from our spots and all separated to our assigned seats, and the girl still hadn’t collected her bag. I was happy not to have it sitting beside me, and I kept my eye open for her as I worked my way backwards but I probably wouldn’t have recognized her anyway. The Irish girl did, however, and she did get up as I walked past and walk forward. So I made it to Hat Yai with only fear of an incident to show for it. Silly, no?
By the time I got to Hat Yai I decided to just stay there the night. Progress in Asia is slow, you take steps as far as you can and be prepared to make due however far you get. This seemed a lively enough place and it had already been a long day of travel. I ran into a couple while I was looking for a hotel and made a dinner date with them and then found a hotel. Next on the agenda was a phone card and money changing, then figuring out exactly where in this National Park I was to go. Everyone seemed to be headed to Ko Lipe, and the name rung a bell somewhere in the recesses of my mind, so I booked a trip there the next day and went for dinner. At last, Thai food. We ate at a small stall, some very nice and spicy Tom Yam soup. It was, well, nice and spicy and full of tasty ingredients. I talked with the couple about Malaysia and things to see and do, and they told me of Ko Lipe, and we went our separate ways. I ran into a Calgarian a little later and we sat chatting for a couple more hours until I couldn’t hold my head up anymore. I’d still wanted to use the night to catch up on my blog, but I didn’t have enough energy left to turn my lock. Sleep came quickly and was terminated in a similar manner.
8:30 that morning I was on a mini-bus for the port of Pok Bar just outside Satun, in the southwestern corner of Thailand. 200 baht national park fee, 650 baht ferry ticket, 30 baht minibus ride, and 50 baht island transfer and I was there (cost in dollars about $30). I’d traveled with some people from the same hotel I’d stayed at, a couple Irish women and an English chap, and we met two Dutch girls on the ferry over. The group of us was dropped unceremoniously at the opposite end of the island from everything and trekked for 15 minutes across towards the Porn Resort. Yes, you read that correctly; I’m not sure of the Thai meaning, but rest assured it’s not the same as in English. I checked. However, there were some similarities. The hotel was seedy, the rooms Spartan and dilapidated, and for 300 baht per night, I was going to take my chances looking for something better. I convinced the Dutch girls to come with me and we made our way through the jungle to the south side of Ko Lipe, Pattaya Beach. Here, we stumbled on Daya Resort, with much, much nicer rooms for 200 baht. Sold. The girls wanted to continue looking for something nicer, but by my standards, it was great. Tiled floors, clean, decent washroom, fans, mosquito nets intact, and 100 baht cheaper than that wreck they’re calling Porn Resort.
I did walk with them for a way after checking in, and we went for dinner whilst they were still undecided somehow. I’d had enough and they continued to look around while I returned to Craig’s place in Porn to grab my bags I’d left there. Leaving with my stuff, I took a wrong path and ended up in the middle of the jungle, coming across this remote temple and having to ask two monks for directions, which were most definitely not in English. I did, eventually, make it back just in time for sunset, but with all my bags loading me down and half an hour of walking. This meant it was time for a beer and I ran into the two Irish ladies and sat with them for the evening. After two days of exhausting travel, I was unable to even think about diving like I’d wanted to, so I went to sleep with no plans for the following day. That meant I was free to wake up whenever (which was beautiful), go for lunch, and run into the Dutch girls who had stayed, after all, in Porn resort that night. They were traumatized by rats scurrying all over their room, however, and had promptly joined me that morning in Daya along with Craig. I discovered I’d left my snorkel behind in Malaysia (Kristoffer is now taking care of it), but Craig let me borrow his and I snorkeled around for just over an hour seeing little but clown fish.
Craig and I had dinner, fresh BBQ fish, having given up waiting for the Dutch girls to join us. It was delicious though expensive. The Dutch girls did come by later having likewise given up on us and, as a result of being up all night with the rats, were getting some much needed sleep tonight. Craig and I had a couple drinks at the bar then and had a good chat before calling it a night relatively early. The next day, April 13, was Thai New Year and a festival they call Songkran. Essentially, they bathe all their Buddha statues in water to cleanse the evils of the prior year and this has extended into what is essentially the world’s largest waterfight. Everywhere you go, people are armed with buckets, gallons, supersoakers, all waiting to ‘purify’ you. Trucks have their decks filled with younguns splashing other vehicles and pedestrians. Motorcycles are driven in pairs, one to man the watergun, the other to drive. Roadblocks are set up where you are not likely to pass without slowing considerably and getting soaked by the 15-20 people there. And sometimes, it’s not just water. It’s food colouring and flour as well, making a sticky, colourful paste. I wanted to be on the mainland to see this festival. So I was leaving as quickly as I’d come, zipping back on the speedboat. Tickets for this, by the way, I was able to get for 450 baht. Prices aren’t so fixed as they appear.
The next morning I grabbed a longtail boat to catch the speed boat. I was supposed to do so at 8:15 and was there at 8:20, but I wasn’t too worried – yet – because the speed boat left at 9:00. Then, we pushed off and I saw him tinkering with the motor. He appeared to be changing the fuel filter and five minutes later, as the tension was growing, he replaced it. We might just make it to the other side of the island to catch the boat, I thought. Then he tried to start it. And tried again. And again. Nothing. It kept stalling. Precious time was diminishing. He called to land – as we’d drifted slightly – for help but nothing seemed to come of it. Another boat was anchored near where we were floating and he managed to get us alongside it, and we jumped ship and were off. It turned out that, unlike the ferry, the boat was right off our own beach, so the trip was a short 5 minutes and I was there with plenty of time to spare. We sped off on the speed boat and I was thankful for the big engines as I was trying to catch the 11:00 bus to Krabi. I decided to go here as it would have a lot of activity for the festival. We made one stop at Ko Tarutao to pick up a group, and they wound up being 30 minutes late which meant, I was annoyed to discover, I wouldn’t be catching the 11:00 bus - but I did get the photo you see on the right. We made landfall at 11:10 and I was told there was also an 11:30 bus and then after that the next was at 1:00, so I grabbed a taxi of sorts and made it to where the bus picks up at 11:35. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no 11:30 bus, so I waited around until 1:00.
There was no real urgency other than I wanted to get there and participate. It was perhaps foolish to travel with all my belongings on a day when people were soaking each other, but I was confident my bag’s rain fly could fend off most of the attack. But when I did finally board the bus, at 1:30 as it turns out, I soon discovered that the aforementioned roadblocks were everywhere and the four hour trip would take somewhat longer. I made it to Krabi, eventually, and decided since I was this far, I might as well get to Ton Sai, a beach in Krabi that could only be reached by boat or hike. I grabbed a taxi for 250 baht to the pier and had to wait as the sun sank in the sky until we had 8 people before the boat would go. I began to despair that no 8 people would come at this hour, that I would be good and stuck here, and that I should’ve just stayed in Krabi town. But a family did come and we were off, and all the patience and delays paid off big time. For, as it turned out, we were sailing out amongst the massive limestone pillars in what would be one of the most beautiful sunsets I’d ever seen. We made it to Railay West, and I had to walk across to the east and catch another boat before I’d be in Ton Sai. This boat again was waiting for 8 people though there was another boat going right by that was full. They just didn’t want to take me or the other guy.
He was exhausted and yelling, and it got him nowhere. He stormed back onto the beach and I asked the guy why he wouldn’t drop us there when it would mean more money for him? I never did get a good answer, but he just said, “Okay, come” and we were off. At last I was in Ton Sai, I eventually found a place up the path some ways for 300 baht. It’s expensive traveling along, I’m reminded. And then I went to the beach bar after a so-so dinner for the New Year Party. This was good fun, they’d brought in a band from Bangkok that was pretty good for being reggae, and I met a bunch of Canadians there. I took the next day off, that is April 14, to decide what exactly I was going to do here (and when) and just have a look around. Climbing, it seemed, was everywhere, and I booked myself a day of climbing for the 15th and continued looking around. Kayaking, snorkels and dives, all sorts of things to do. I had a relaxing day and met two sisters from Victoria that night. I had a very nice chat with Mel in particular and we agreed to go kayaking the day after my climb.
The day of climbing was excellent. It started a little slow, I have to say, but before midday I and the other English girl who were students had both climbed 30m to a small cave for some nice shots of West Railay. We had lunch, she being finished her half day and me joining Mike, an Irish guy I could hardly understand, for the second half of the day. We did some really challenging climbs and I ‘fell’ for the first time on one of them. Then we clambered through the dark into a cave and climbed up and up in the cave to a beautiful view looking over East Railay and Ton Sai, then abseiled down to the forest floor. From here we did a couple more climbs. One was really challenging but in the end I made it to the top and got treated to a beautiful view, high enough up to see both sides of the peninsula, and it was all worth it. We were back in time for sunset but it seemed like a night when I wasn’t going to meet anybody and indeed it was. I sat watching a guy at One More Bar doing a pretty nice job playing acoustic guitar and harmonica with just a few locals, but that was about it. And I had, for dinner, my first Pad Thai in Thailand, but it wasn’t anything special, not surprising given the last time I’d eaten at that restaurant it was poor as well. I would try again.
On the topic of foods, I had had some beautiful green curry in Ko Lipe, and become somewhat addicted to Mango Sticky Rice (with coconut milk) here in Ton Sai. And I had a warm banana coconut milk almost-soup as a delectable dessert. I’d been recommended by an Israeli guy I’d met here in Ton Sai while having a BBQ chicken leg to try the papaya salad and I did so on the morning of April 16. That, however, wasn’t really anything to write home about. I ran into Mel and her brother Nate eating breakfast and they sat with me and we all had Thai pancakes as well. We were to go kayaking today but Nate wasn’t feeling great so we put it off another day. Instead, I thought I’d take the afternoon snorkel trip to the nearby islands (Chicken Island, etc). I went back to my bungalow to get my stuff and as I was walking back to the snorkel place I heard, “Hello, stranger!” from my left and turning, there were Carrie and Lori, friends from Saskatoon. I’d actually been expecting to run into them somewhere in the next few days, but as far as I knew they were still in Bangkok; I’d just emailed Carrie the night before with information on flying from Bangkok to Krabi.
So it was, you might say, a big surprise to have them walking down the pathway in the ‘resort’ I was staying at. I dropped the snorkel trip and instead we went down to the beach. The beach at Ton Sai isn’t anything special – in fact at low tide it’s pretty much a long shallow rock pool – so we went over to East Railay and then continued on to Phranang. We’d run into Mel and Nate again and they were doing the same thing, so the four of us set up shop on the beach together. It was a hot one, alright, and the water was hardly what you’d call refreshing at 30 degrees, but it was still nice to relax and hang around. We made our way back and split from Mel then went for BBQ fish at the Dream Valley restaurant, not worth the money, and then had drinks up at the Kasbah. Ismail, a guy I’d met when I was hanging out with Mel a few nights back, came up and said hello again and seemed quite enamoured with Lori. We hung out with him for the evening and tried our hand at tightrope walking before going home.
The next day we were up early, I had some more mango sticky rice, and the girls had Thai pancakes. The three of us rented a couple kayaks and snorkel gear for 1000 baht altogether and kayaked out to the islands. 8km, I’d heard, was supposed to take about an hour. Well, we reached the first island, a little clump in the sea thinking we were right around the corner from the others. Coming around the corner – and looking for somewhere to do some cliff jumping – we saw that wasn’t the case. The next island was quite some distance again. An hour later, we were pulling our kayaks onto the sands of Poda Island. Here is where some of the best snorkeling is meant to be and we set out to explore the underwater world. Unfortunately, even with five masks (I’d told him I didn’t think his masks were very watertight) most of the masks leaked at least somewhat, as did the snorkels. I had to breathe out sharply every breath to expel the water. Also, the mask I ended up with had a solid nose, so I couldn’t equalize properly, and it had a ‘nose vent’ for some reason which was letting in a bit of water too. The girls had similar problems or worse, though I’d tried to take the worst equipment for myself.
That done, we sailed around Poda island to Chicken Island, which was a much better experience. It is so named because there is a large vertical karst that looks like a long neck with a head atop it. We arrived at low tide to find a long thin strand of beach connecting it with Tum Island, which was beautiful. And, at last, we grabbed some lunch and energy from a restaurant there. The food was good if overpriced. We didn’t see the chicken head immediately, but after a short walk it came into view watching over the island like a hungry dinosaur. And then it was time to go back. The girls were sunburned and without adequate protection from the sun, it was a daunting 2 hours back to look at, we were all tired, and, well, it occurred to me that we might not have enough in us to get back. Of course we would make it happen, but that the thought crossed my mind at all was worrying. It was a tough slough back, complicated by some larger waves which, though pushing us along (thank goodness) were making the girls seasick. Slowly the beach receded behind us and even more slowly did Ton Sai grow in front of us. The last kilometre was the worst, it felt like we were getting nowhere and breaking every two to three minutes. Finally, we could see huts on the island, then boats, and now, at last, people. I think we burst into absurd laughter when we finally jumped out of the kayak onto land. We wouldn’t do that again anytime soon.
The next day we were meant to do some climbing, but we were all too tired – everywhere – to consider anything of the sort. The girls being sunburned limited options, too, and so we split. Sort of. We both wound up on the beach relaxing a couple hundred meters from each other though we didn’t discover this until the end of the day. I split with them to climb to the lagoon just before sunset (I was hoping to catch the tide up somewhat) and then met up with them for dinner back in Ton Sai at Mambo’s. Afterwards, of course, we went up to the Kasbah and had a great send off before we headed off to the island of Phi Phi the next morning. And we did indeed set off for Ko Phi Phi in what was to be an ill-fated journey. First of all, the weather deteriorated – not badly, but it was gray and overcast which was in stark contrast to the weather of the previous, well, month. The island was also really developed and this wasn’t exactly desirable compared with a place like Ton Sai. Finally, everyone talks about this being the most beautiful place on earth, and it is beautiful, but it’s really not all that much different than where we already were.
We found a place to stay the night and booked ourselves into a sunset snorkel cruise. Two snorkel stops turned into one. A stop along Monkey Beach turned into, well, no stop along a beach that had no monkeys on it. We didn’t cruise down a few canals because of the low tide, but we did finally stop and do a bit of snorkeling and it was pretty nice. Lion fish and everything just below the surface, and lots of needlenose fish too (they look like small swordfish). Then we got off and trekked across the smaller, uninhabited Phi Phi island to Maya Bay, THE Beach beach. The trek there was without camera but plenty of mosquitoes to make up for it. And our arrival at Maya Beach was cluttered with boats in the bay and it had none of the magical look we’d been expecting. I felt especially bad for Lori – whom I’d warned – because her expectations had been so high going into it. I mean, it’s not a horrible place, if you use your imagination to wipe the boats and ropes and signs of tourism gone mad from the scene. It was taxing on my imagination though, and I think mine is still pretty powerful. It did get a bit better as the day waned, but really, how was it going to top the beaches of Phranang and Railay near our home-base of Ton Sai. We sailed home in what was a remarkable sunset only because there was no sign whatsoever that the sun was up, down, or anywhere near a transition. It just slowly got darker. The land that orange forgot. We went to go out that night as well and, at 11 PM, everything was closed. We stopped for a smoothie and I was attacked by a cockroach looking to nest in my hair. Thus ended our stay in Phi Phi.
The next morning, I woke up feeling really sore all over, but I wanted to get up to the viewpoint before leaving the island that morning. I also checked the internet and discovered that Kristoffer was in Krabi so that made the decision for me between Krabi and Phuket. Hiking up to the top was arduous to say the least, though I couldn’t help feeling that I was sweating more than I should be. At the top, I just couldn’t cool down, however much I drank, but I did get a few nice photos from up there. Back down I went, and I tried to have a bagel for breakfast but it took all my energy and focus to stomach the entire thing, nevermind holding my head up. It was then that I realized I was still burning up and had a headache. Great. I was sick and I had a fever, pretty much the one sign that you’re in deep trouble in the tropics. Malaria, dengue, name a tropical disease and they all have one thing in common: fever. The boat ride back to Krabi (I missed the girls and didn’t get to say a proper ‘bye’) only served to confirm that I was sicker than a dog, and hauling my backpack off the boat and negotiating a ride into the city and a hotel was almost more than I could stand. But I did get myself into an air conditioned hotel, and I did get myself to a hospital, and, well, my friends, that story will have to continue next time. But rest assured I’m alive and, so far as I can tell, well, though I can (and will) tell you it was a miserable two weeks…
As Christmas approached, I began to accept more and more that there would be no Christmas here for me. In addition to being all about family, all the usual cues were absent. Snow, cold, Christmas carols (I don’t listen to the radio, so I don’t hear anything of the sort), all absent. The decorations are definitely up, but I just wasn’t feeling it. The restaurant was busy, definitely that’s a Christmas-time cue, and then it completely died the weekend following Christmas. Then Christmas day came. I dressed for work like any other day, went downstairs, and Daren and Janine were sitting down by the Christmas tree wearing their red hats and telling me Santa had been by. And he got me a red hat too, not to mention a book called The Kite Runner. I have to say that this gesture and waking up to find people in the home besides me made me feel like it was indeed Christmas and there was something special about today. But special or not, I still had to go to work...
I got there early because it was going to be a very big day. And a hot day. In fact, it was 44 degrees Celsius, setting a record and giving Perth the distinction as being the hottest city on Earth that day. I showed up early so I could use the phone to call home, where it was still Christmas Eve, and wish my family a merry Christmas, and then it was time to run around and get everything done. Santa needed to know where to stand, what to do. Christmas menus needed to be on the tables. More salt and peppers needed to be found. Since we were adding a ‘starter’ course, more entrée cutlery needed to be found, too. And then it was noon, we opened the doors, and things went just fine. Sure, the power went out for about 45 minutes thanks to the fact that all our coolers and air conditioning overloaded the circuits, but we trucked on and everybody was quite happy with their meals. Even given the fact that they had prepaid for their meals and only had to settle their drink tab, we still got $600 in tips, which is pretty unheard of here in Australia.
We worked until about 5:30, and then Adam, Cam, and I caught a cab to Scannell’s where a Christmas party was just warming up. A bit of a swim, a few drinks, some bbq, and since we had Boxing Day off for our staff party, Cam and I didn’t want to get too revved up today, so we grabbed a cab home to rest for what would be our real Christmas. Doug and Tom arranged to pick me up and they were a bit late. We were supposed to be at the East St Jetty by 10:30 AM and we were picking up another couple at that point instead. I was worried we were going to miss the boat but we got there just in time to help load up. Whew. It was another scorcher, 45 degrees today, a beautiful shiny day to spend on a boat on turquoise waters sailing out to an island and going for a swim and BBQ. This day was a true Australian Christmas and I was so happy to have been here for it. We set off to the island and parked. You could see a bunch of sea lions sunning themselves on the beach, so I took a swim out there. I wish I could’ve brought my camera, I would’ve had some amazing photos, they really didn’t like being approached TOO closely, but I could get within 10 metres of them sunning and others alert on guard and it was just amazing to me to have them sitting there in the wild and to be right there watching.
I also donned my red santa hat and went for a swim and Crown Lager in the perfect waters and of course took part in the delicious buffet Warwick had provided. Steaks, scallops, prawns, lamb, salads, you name it, it was there. We drank champagne, we ate like kings, and sat on the beautiful waters enjoying the fruits of a very busy Christmas season. But all good things must come to an end, and we found the shore far too soon and after a bit of a situation involving someone stealing drugs from the ship’s medical kit, we were at the Newport having a few drinks, then at Megan’s house making what I can only imagine would be a horrible mess for the next day. I feel pretty bad for her.
I had the next day for recovery, and Daren made dinner, I made dessert, and we say around chatting before going to sleep. Then, some packing, and I was on a plane on the 28th for Sydney, where I would be celebrating New Years Eve. Virgin Blue, not as bad as I thought it would be, they even gave us free TV since the reception was so poor, but after watching a segment on an assassination in Pakistan – I’m so disconnected from world events here, both a nice feeling and disconcerting – I wound up typing up this blog and captioning some photos anyway. My pre-New Years resolution is to get this site back up to date before I leave Sydney, and I’m pretty on track to doing that I think. Anyway, I arrived in Sydney at 7PM and the North Sydney line was closed so I wound up on a bus and then not knowing exactly where I was. Carrying around all my stuff and trying to figure it out with sunburnt shoulders wasn’t as pleasant as it might’ve been, but I found Diane’s finally, and had some nice wine (yup, Rockford) with her and Craig.
The next day I went and picked up some hiking shoes since there were boxing day sales still on; I’ll need them for hiking in Tazzy and probably Asia, too. Then I met up with Jill, whom I met up in Darwin back in September, and Mel for some drinks in Darling Harbour. They were off for dinner and I decided that I’d watch Beowulf in the IMAX since I’d been wanting to see how this “new 3D” phenomenon I’ve been hearing so much about was going to pay off. To be honest, the movie itself wasn’t that interesting and the technology, while definitely adding a dimension to the show, didn’t seem that incredible to me. I guess years of 3D at theme parks and whatever has made it seem gimmicky instead of immersive, which is something I don’t think you want when you’re trying to generate verisimilitude. Maybe as more movies are made in 3D it won’t be as distracting. The next day was more catch up, another movie (No Country for Old Men) which was excellent, and grabbing supplies for my New Years Eve picnic. I got a hold of Andrew, who was coming down from Newcastle, Nathalie, who was coming up from Melbourne, and the English girls, and it seemed that everyone was content to meet at Mrs. Macquaries Chair, which is just as well, because that’s where I was going regardless.
So I woke up at 8AM the next morning, got ready and packed for the day, and was at the ferry by 9, though one didn’t come until 9:30. I knew the line would be growing and I really wanted to stake out a good spot – the gates opened at 10. I made my way straight to the line up and discovered it was HUGE. From the front gates I though I could see the end of the line way down the street, but it was just a slight curve and it kept going down Art Gallery Road, past the gallery, into Domain park, and wrapping around. I thought about walking all the way back and trying to sneak in, but no, it was my own fault for getting here at 9:45 instead of 7:45, so I bit the bullet and joined the line at the back. I made quick friends with some Americans in front of me and we had a pretty good time even waiting in line for the 3000 people ahead of us to have their bags searched. It took an hour and a half to get to the front, and they didn’t even search my backpack, I definitely could’ve brought in some champagne or spirits, but oh well. We spent a bit of time debating spots and I found one that I could fit that had a great view, but I couldn’t fit all my newfound American friends with me nor even any of the people that were supposed to be meeting me later, so I went for a different spot with them which still had a pretty decent view though no breeze. And it was HOT. This was probably the best decision I made that day, however, as it was good fun throughout the afternoon.
The park kept filling throughout the day and soon we had a friendly guy from Finland in front of us, Andrew showed with his Columbian friend, Nicholas, Nathalie showed with (eventually) her German friends, and some of Amber’s friends showed too. Although we were at the park 14 hours before midnight, the time flew. We played cards, chatted, drank, and joked around. Every hour from 1PM onward, something different was happening. The theme was “Having the time of our lives” and it was very appropriate for the day. Skywriters writing things like “Time Flies”, tiger moth biplanes doing stunts, cannon firings, and the list goes on. The sunset, a boat light show/parade, and then the first major event, the family fireworks at 9PM. Well. They were great. They put an hourglass on the bridge this year and it dropped a little ‘sand’ grain every five minutes until 9 and then thereafter. I was thinking they were going to have a tough time topping the family fireworks. Amber and I rejoined the gang from our vantage point and hung around until 10. Then, I decided I wanted to get a good spot now for the midnight fireworks, so I went with Nathalie and got a spot right on the water, or as close as we could get at any rate. Nobody else was interested apparently, but it was so worth it.
The countdown began and every five minutes another grain of sand and the circle around the clock lit 1/12 more. It was getting very exciting. 15 minutes left. 5 minutes. And then the pillars on the bridge started their countdown… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1. Pandemonium. Fireworks everywhere. “Happy New Year!” being screamed by 22000 people also in the park with us. Fireworks off the bridge, the hour glass turned over, and kept turning and then spinning, the water reflecting the shining skies. Off boats to the right, and in the distance, far away but over the opera house, the main firework show (they do the same fireworks throughout the harbour, except for the bridge, which was a special treat for those in the centre). And then they started launching them off skyscrapers in the city centre. It was a panorama of explosions and beauty and it just kept escalating. Especially the fireworks off the boats, it just seemed like they could get any bigger or more frequent, but they did. I tried to capture a bit with video and photos, but without a tripod and an ultra-wide angle lens, I might as well have been trying to capture the entirety of the Great Wall of China from 30m back. And then came the finale, which literally dropped my jaw and camera. A ‘waterfall’ of white lava off the bridge, fireworks in every direction, colour, shape, and size. 3D fireworks. All at once and the most amazing pyrotechnic display I’ll probably ever see. The New Year had reached Sydney and I thought there wasn’t a better way to conclude a year down under or start 2008. This was the grand feeling we always try to get on New Years but are always disappointed by when it turns out to be like any other night on the town.
We left the park and Andrew and I crashed at Amber’s place, the York hotel right in the city. The next morning we had breakfast with her and her parents and they all went to Manly, which I was going to join them on, but by the time I’d ferried to North Sydney, changed, got my swimming stuff, showered, and got a ferry back, it was going to be 5:30 before I got there. I got on the ferry anyway, thinking I’d grab a bite in Manly anyway if I missed them, but then as I sat on the ferry it was delayed and more delayed and 30 minutes later I decided I’d had enough. So I went and saw another movie, The Golden Compass which was surprisingly good. I’m definitely looking forward to a sequel. I saw Bee Movie the next day, which was likewise good, clean, Seinfeldian fun - the glut of movies is in part because I had a bit of fever and achyness and wasn't up for much else. When life gives you lemons, go see a movie! But my holidays have been anything but a lemon. The final two days were, admittedly, marred by some severe technical issues with FrankBlack.Net, but my stay in Sydney comes to an end tomorrow morning, when I fly to Tasmania for a couple weeks of exploration, outdoors, and hopefully not too much internet. But the conclusion of this post marks the first time my blog has been up to date since the beginning of August, so at least all my work has come to something. I'll let you know what my Tasmanian adventures come to soon.
Having recovered my laptop, my mission on the east coast of Australia was complete. Now I had to get back to Perth; and maybe see some old friends along the way. My first step, November 1st, was to completely shave. After all, it's the beginning of Movember, a month dedicated to Men's Health issues. Aussies try to raise awareness by growing out moustaches for the entire month and, hopefully, taking donations towards the relevant charities. I spent the rest of November traipsing around Surfers Paradise with the Germans and Jackie from my room as well as Chelsea, and by the 2nd I was in Brisbane again, staying with Liam at his place. In fact, I'd no sooner got there then we were out for some Vietnamese food with a bunch of his friends at the little place by a train stop. And the next day, a barbecue and other good times to be had. Finally, we went for breakfast on my final day in Brisbane at a bowling club and I discovered, as I sat on the river with a beautiful view, that Brisbane has a lot more going on than you'd expect... you just have to get out of the CBD. Liam raced, literally raced, me to my plane and I JUST made it in time to get on board and I said goodbye to Queensland for the last time. Coming up, Melbourne!
I arrived in Melbourne in class... this time, my friend Alex (who I met traveling through the Kimberly to Broome) picked me up from the airport, ordered some food as we drove towards his place, and we got home and ate with Sandy, his roommate within an hour of having landed. I instantly felt at home here - not only do they have unlimited bandwidth internet, they have a modded X-box, and Sandy even put on an episode of Family Guy that parodies Star Wars. The apartment was in a great location, about 15 minutes walk north of St. Kilda in a place called Middle Park. I would be in Melbourne for a week to take in the Melbourne Cup on Tuesday and Alex and Sandy's collective 30th birthdays on Saturday. Today, incidentally, is Sunday, and I'm doing a whole lot of nothing this evening after Family Guy; just enjoying being in such a homey place.
I met up with Catherine the next morning for waffles at the Tropicana. Although it was a bit of a trick to get there - there happened to be a parade marching through the city and it took a bit before I noticed my tram wasn't going where I thought it would be as a result. And then streets were closed for pedestrians, etc, etc. Luckily, she had the same problems, so we were both fashionably late to meet under the clocks at Flinders. After our delicious waffles, which turned out to be a lunch instead of breakfast, we walked through Hardware Lane, over to an art exhibit of her friend's (which wasn't on until next week), and finally had some drinks at the Transport Bar. I parted company with her and met up with Andrew in St Kilda for some pizza and more beer and, as we were walking down the street, there was Paris, another coworked from Stalactites, in the cab queue... and as a cabbie! Since Staalactites was renovating for a couple months, everybody had to find other jobs, and this was his. It was cool to just run into him randomly like that.
The next morning was Melbourne Cup. Alex didn't approve of my attire, and thankfully intervened with a different shirt and tie. Now I looked classy, especially with my new hat that I had just bought with Catherine at Myer the day before. I met up with Jackie, my Canadian friend from Surfers, and Andrew at the train station, we got tickets to Flemington, and were off to the races! We all looked pretty sophisticated for backpackers, I must say. Well, Andrew's not, but he's from NSW, so he's a traveller of sorts. It was a great day of champagne, winnings, losings, and sitting in the sun enjoying the weather. We even got interviewed on TV here, I guess we looked like we were having fun. And we were. After the main race was done, I was about even for the day (minus drinks and admission) and we left for an evening of fun, stopping for dinner, eventually, at HJs for dinner (the Melbourne Cup race is a public holiday here, so everything is closed), Max Brenner's for dessert, and then off to the casino, where we played some of the games at the huge fun centre there. Definitely cheaper than the tables and we had a lot of fun, even if we were a might overdressed.
The rest of the week went by pretty quickly. Wednesday I met up with Andrew and Bianca for lunch at an Asian restaurant in QV and met Ferg at 5:30 outside the Aquarium. He took me by his new place where we waited for Carol over a Corona and listened to some of his new album. The three of us went for dinner and a second beer at London Pub, just down the street from their new home, and it was great to catch up with them again - they're both such nice people. Thursday, I went for a cycle with Norm for dinner, and then I met up with Jackie again for her last night in Australia and went out with her and some other backpackers. I spent most of Friday trying to recover my deleted photos with limited success before I finally hit on some luck by using my backup hard drive as well as my laptop one.
Saturday was the main event, Alex and Sandy's 30th. I helped them clean up and load up for the party that night, and load up we did. We filled the bath with ice and alcohol, not to mention some garbage cans, moved stuff around, and so on. They were expecting a lot of people for this little apartment, and we had to make room. The party went really well, they have some very nice friends and family, and I quite enjoyed myself. I was definitely glad I'd stayed for it. The next day I met up with Melinda for a walk through the botanical gardens. We met first at the QV markets to get supplies, I picked up a new pair of aviators (this was where I got my last pair for $15), and by the time we got to the park and found a spot it was getting late. But we had a great little picnic, I finally saw the botanical gardens, and in all it was a great way to spend a Sunday. Monday I met with Norm again, where we biked to Williamstown for crepes and cider and then back again, after which I met up with Bianca on Lygon St for some Italian cuisine.
Monday came very quickly, my final day in Melbourne, and I ran a bunch of errands and got my laptop sorted some more. I took Alex and Sandy out for dinner that night to Santiago, a tapas Spanish restaurant, and thanked them as best I could for their hospitality. I would be sad to leave, but I know I have one more time in Melbourne before I say goodbye forever. I'm definitely looking forward to it, but now, if you haven't guessed, I've spent far too much money and it's time to get to Perth, to work, and to reality (sort of) once again.
It had been a long time coming. I'd been planning to come to Perth even before I left home. I'd been planning to first fly from Surfer's Paradise back when Kirsty left in September, then to travel from Darwin to Broome through the Kimberly and fly to Perth from there, and finally to travel from Broome to Perth with some backpackers over two weeks and THEN arrive. And now, October 15, I'm here - a month later than my initial plan, procrastinating as always but getting the job done. And that's my next step: the job. After our night out last night at the Shed, it was time to get to work. But I also had to make DVD copies of all our photos for everyone on the trip. I walked into town with Ken, opened a bank account, got some blank DVDs, and popped in at Hays consulting to see what my first steps in the great job hunt should be. Resume? Check. University degrees? Somewhere at home but hopefully they can be found. Portfolio? Um. Yeaaaahhhh. I met back with Ken at the hostel and we started burning up DVDs like nobody's business. At 5:00, I met up with Nathalie, Julian, Greg, Kenji, and Ayumi (codename: Yummy) for some casino schenanigans. We grabbed the train out there, but Yummy didn't bring her passport or any ID. All she brought was her diving card. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but I took her back to her hostel and picked up her passport with her.
On the way back, the trains started running less often and we actually didn't board until 7:50 when our tickets expired at 7:48. Whatsmore, we both bought concession passes because the machine only takes change and I didn't have $5 of it. And sure enough, the police were checking the train. I continued my conversation to Yummy though I saw them coming. Act cool. Act cool. I was so busy trying to think what to do that I repeated myself twice, but if they noticed they must've assumed it was because Yummy's english wasn't so great. We were nearing the stop and they were scrutinizing the ticket holders of the people behind us. I stood as the train looked to be getting near to our stop and told Yummy we were off at the next stop. Still she seemed to have no idea of the danger we were in. The officers finished with the row behind as the train slowed down to stop. I nodded a friendly and non-chalant "hey" to them and they walked right past us to some characters at the other end of the train before it could stop. We exited safely and entered the casino. Whew. My first gamble of the night had been a very lucky win. Would my luck hold?
The answer is yes. For awhile. Well, actually, no, then sort of, then no no no, then yes, yes, yes, and then "ah". I started with $50, down to 30, back to 60, down to 15, up to 90, down to 50 and it was time for a snack. Then I lost that 50 and a few $5 chips besides on roulette before walking out the door. But it was a good fun night and while I'd love to have left even, I had a lot of fun playing roulette with everyone else (although when they were all watching my winning streak in blackjack, that was fun too!). The next day, more errands. I made copies of my resume and met a fellow there who had married a Canadian girl from Ottawa and was moving back. We chatted about life in Australia for a bit and I mentioned that I was job hunting and he said to come with him, he could probably help with that. Unfortunately, he works for hospitality and retail, but it might be something for the short term. For the moment though, I want to keep my focus on getting a good/well-paying job. I went back to Hays and Focused, another recruitment agency and then met up with Nathalie and Julian to see Nathan Kaye. He plays a didj that actually telescopes
