Pikmin

In my days prior to sport, I was quite a gamer. One of my favourites was an interesting title by the King himself – Shigeru Miyamoto (or “Shigs” for short). I suggest you google the title before continuing and pay close attention to screenshots.

A British couple from Essex (judging from their accents), perhaps in their late 50s suggested that a 99 baht all-you-can-eat restaurant down the road, was a good choice. They completely neglected to mention the mechanics of the place though. Entering, the Muslim girls offer us a seat. Seeming more reserved than their Buddhist counterparts, a heated plate with soup bowl atop is presented on the table and plugged in to the overhead socket.

Cook your own meat, whilst the soup simmers away. I think I’ll try some Chicken Liver, chopped breast meat and Prawns, from the selection. It’s all wonderfully flavoursome, but more intriguing were the ants that decided to tackle a feat of logistics that would take humans weeks of planning.

From 12 Jan 2010

I must have inadvertently dropped a part of the Prawn on the chair, but nothing goes to waste here. I’m not sure whether it will be consumed or broken down and used for construction, but in an instant it’s picked up and marched back. I broke off several other pieces and all were recycled with pure dedication. If only we could be this organised.

From 12 Jan 2010

Bacon and Eggs

Sat watching a jumping spider trying to climb out of my small glass bowl of baked bean remains, I’m enjoying watching the world go by. The choice of CD is a little tedious, but the wind chimes and occasional drone of mopeds helps to drown it out. My 8-legged friend is almost at the top, edging his way with caution up the side – it’s tentative work.

The waitress here must work at least 20 hours a day – I see her every time I walk in to the hotel – save the 2am arrival this morning. That was due to exploring the bars along the strip last night – they’re interesting and packed with a variety of farang travellers. Some rich, some on a shoestring, the language of alcohol and scantily clad women is clearly universal.

And he’s slipped, all the way down in to the soupy gloop of tomato sauce. It’s a shame spiders don’t have a pallet for beans, though I wonder how he’ll get out. The waitress returns with a refill for my tea and judging from the bags under her eyes, is in need of a break. She works arduously and I’ve the upmost respect for her – men in Thailand are considerably lazier. In the middle of the table reside toothpicks, tissues, suggestion cards and the usual condiments. I think I’ll take the time to write out just how fantastic I think Ju’s staff is.

She’s the owner, and used to work as a medical researcher. Her hotel is a slick, clean, tidy and friendly affair. Her crew is comprised of a handful, though of note is a formidably large attendant, who managed to argue the toss with our moped hire man and won. One of the male staff likes to use an electric fly swatter to remove unwanted bloodthirsty guests. As each one is caught in the stringed instrument of death, the sound is reminiscent of firecrackers.

Ju gave us a lift in to town as she happened to be headed that way – this kind of treatment is rare. And all for twenty pounds a night (half in low season).
I think I’d like to repay her somehow, and whilst a tip will be inevitable at point of departure, I have decided to rewrite her room guides for her. It’s a small gesture that will take me half an hour, but I feel compelled to help – only the dead of heart will not be charmed by this place. In fact, if Thailand were a girl, I’d have a major crush on her.

No Mister Bond, I expect you to pay 1500 baht

If at all possible, don’t hand over your passport – take another option. Thankfully my sister was canny enough to insist that the hotel keep hold of it, as a compromise. Good choice – the rental man turned up a day later than agreed and proceeded to try and extort another day’s rental from us. The staff at Thip Residence are excellent, and in no time at all, they’re sorting everything out.

On a natural high from the moped rental, the next step up seemed an obvious choice. Four wheels are far dearer to rent than two, though at ten pounds each and granting complete freedom, I’m happy to pay.

As the rental lady pulls up in a silver Tomy my first 4x4 it’s impossible not to laugh. I’m fairly certain this is the same Suzuki that was used in the Top Gear South America special. The only difference being; I’m not scripted.

From 11 Jan 2010

I’m off to Phrang Nga and starting the engine up, it sounds like a Diesel, but is in fact Petrol. Driving on the left, it’s pretty easy going. This is similar to driving a long-wheelbase Landrover, as the gear stick has short vertical movements but long horizontal ones. With close gearing, I’m in fifth in no time and hardly moving at all. The rev counter refuses to budge above 2000 rpm, so I’ll be using my ear then. How fast you go depends on what pitch the engine is – the speedo suggested 100 whereas my watch measured 80. At that speed it bobs side to side as the high centre of gravity suggests it’s not meant for long haul motorway driving.
Its good fun though and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Lording around in expensive luxury is certainly not the path of the backpacker, and I’ve strayed enough from that course already.

From 11 Jan 2010

Two screaming and eardrum-piercing hours later and Phrang Nga is reached. It doesn’t look dissimilar to a lot of seaside resorts, save for the lack of a sandy beach. This car sticks out like a proverbial saw thumb and upon parking, soon enough the touts are queuing outside. I’m reluctant to open the door, but why drive so far and not see something?

In retrospect and conclusion – if you want to view a clichéd tourist trap, use the tours as they’re better value. Otherwise, go exploring and expect to get lost – it’s far more fun. Either way my sister negotiates a hard bargain – and I’m enjoying watching the banter between them. He’s come down from 1500 to 1300, finally settling and agreeing to 990 baht. This is friendly banter and the locals seem to revel in it. With a full tank of fuel for a long tail costing 600, that’s £8 for 3 hours work. Nice work if you can get it.

From 11 Jan 2010

From 11 Jan 2010

It’ an interesting rock formation, that’s all. The internet surely possesses a million pictures, shot from the same angle, with the same framing and lighting. I’m not paying extra just to stop off and follow the pack. I’m far more interested in the local Muslim village built on stilts.

From 11 Jan 2010

On arrival it feels very solemn; I’ve a strange feeling that these poor sea merchants have been shoved to one side. My first sight is an abandoned stall, where a clever use of taxidermy has made puffa fish into trinkets. Pearls are in abundance – a whole necklace for 660 baht. While pretty, I’m single and conscious of backpack space, so I’ll pass thanks. Further ahead a man is carefully slicing fish, which I assume are to be dried and bagged for sale. This place is a wonder, though it’s quite upsetting to see that some of the locals have taken to trading monkeys, as one in thrust in my general direction, “you buy, you buy” she says.

From 11 Jan 2010

From 11 Jan 2010

What process happened, whereby this became acceptable behaviour: Was it an arrogant Western collector after another trophy, to one-up his fellow imbecile? Or is it simply a case of needs must. Either way my stomach sinks, as I realise just how much of a spoiled and privileged life I’ve had.
Heading back and jumping in the car to Phrang Nga city, a night market’s dazzling lights beckon us in. Just over one pound of various food stalls and my belly is full. Whilst some of it looks savoury, it’s actually sweet and vice versa. What appear to be deep fried sausages are actually full of spiced rice; a pastry resembling a cheese covered sausage roll is actually a sweet dessert. It’s equally as delicious as it is perplexing.

From 11 Jan 2010

Strolling around, children look up at me in awe and fascination, and I’m revelling being the only honky in the whole marketplace.

From 11 Jan 2010

From 11 Jan 2010

Lightning thoughts

The rain cometh and when it does, it is utterly relentless. Thunder claps cause the entire hotel to shake under their growling might. Lightning bolts fire across the skyline like the surf of a wave. It’s pretty hard to ignore the beauty of this kind of weather, although admiring it when in a cosy air-conditioned hotel room is somewhat ineffectual.

Counting the time between strikes confirms the storm is moving toward me, so I’ll be in for the evening then. Thip Noodles it is. Room service can do the work while I collect thoughts and put proverbial pen to paper.

As I look out of my window, I can see the newly finished pool that I overlook filling to the brim as the heavens decide it needs a refill. There’s no need to water any plants here – though walking around in 36°C during the day, I wonder how plants can survive. It’s simple: they fast.

The charming attendant arrives with my flat noodles and after such an eventful day, it’s a quiet end. I just pray that Geordie (my newly acquired pet Gecko), doesn’t keep me up all night chirping.

From 10 Jan 2010

D.I.Y.

It's 6am and the Hemidactylus frenatus (house Gecko), that's shared my room for the night wakes me with a chirping sound; it’s almost like kissing teeth in quick succession. I can't find it – not that I want to, I'm happy for it to eat mozzies around my room while I slumber.

From 09 Jan 2010

After breakfast, it’s time to give the rented moped a try. I’ve never ridden one before, but I’m told by my expert motorcyclist sister that it’ll be easy. And easy it is indeed: Lift the kickstand, hold one of the brakes on and press start. Twist to go forward, let go to engine-brake. The rest is identical to cycling. A sense of freedom that I've not experienced since selling my car was immediate upon pressing that start button. Stating that an automatic moped is an easy drive is a gross understatement – though if you do twist hard with your right hand, the speedo dial will pass 50 in no time at all.

My plan was to visit a national park and navigate in a hybrid fashion of old and new. This involved using my watch’s GPS compass along with asking locals. In fact there was no need for either, as soon enough after stopping and retrieving my map, we're greeted by a local fellow biker who offers to lead the way. A quick glance at each other and a nod decides that we’ll take him up and we follow, at distance. It’s awful being this cynical – the chap was as honest as can be and gave us all the help we could possibly have asked for.

These roads put the UK to shame. I can run my hand across the surface and it's as smooth as cotton. Not a sign of a pothole anywhere, it's an invigorating drive through jungle on either side as we head up towards the Khao Phanom Bencha National Park.

En route there's a cave or two to pass by, which necessitate some care when entering. The guide loans us a torch each for a pound. That's a lot to her and she's so keen for the business, that we are told any and everything there is to know about the region. The first cave is a steep climb, so much so that I end up on all fours. Further ahead I'm looking for a hold to reach with my right hand. Noticing a large red rock formation looking good for grip, my hand passes through it and the emerging termites declare war as they swarm.

From 10 Jan 2010

From 10 Jan 2010

I hadn't noticed the two hand-sized spiders looming above, and with that I think I'm done. It's like something from an Indiana Jones film – though I’d be far happier running from a large foam ball and I don’t carry a whip. Dodging the Elephant excrement (the size of footballs), it’s on to the waterfalls.

This is picturesque stuff. On arrival I notice a PeaCock strutting around. Making a rainbow movement with my hands, he responds admirably by opening his plumage on demand. Striking a pose, it’s as if he knows I want a shot of him.

From 10 Jan 2010

Entrance is £2.40 and setting the moped down, it’s a mile hike to the waterfalls. The map shows a circular route, so I decide it’s an idea to circumnavigate and attack it like a trek. The climb up the waterfall is not only treacherous but also demanding – I’m grateful for having climbed for almost a year. On arrival at the Pool of Life at the top, a guide informs us there is no continuous route – it’s back the way we came. Climbing up is easy, descending is even more tricky.

From 10 Jan 2010

At the bottom I spot a family gathering around for a picnic lunch. I’ll generally ask permission when taking photos, and once I’ve fired the shutter, the father points to an empty space offering me lunch. It’s a lovely gesture, but I’m not hungry; “khorb koon kup” I say, smiling as I leave.

From 10 Jan 2010

Back at Ao Nang it seems about time to indulge in a foot massage. This is appropriate Thai stuff and after the tickling sensation has subsided, I’m in awe as to the strength of my 4’5” masseuse. I’m sure there are more sleazy massages on offer in other shops, but the American bar owner opposite assures me that this is “the best in town”. And I can’t stress enough how relaxed and rejuvenated I was after the experience; I’ll be going back for the full monty tomorrow.

Railay

They absolutely will not budge unless the boat is full. The long tail drivers that is; unless you’re happy to pay for the unoccupied seats. Therefore, don’t buy a ticket unless you see a horde of humans waiting to hop aboard. Deciding to venture to the Ao Nammao pier, and paying 60 baht for the ticket each, was clearly a bad idea. Hindsight teaches you many things though and thankfully we were permitted to change the applicable date.

From 09 Jan 2010

Expect to get wet, so wear shorts. If they’re long; roll them up. Don’t panic when the boat rocks dangerously close to capsizing each time someone boards – it’ll take a lot to flip one of these. Better still, use some intelligence and move over to the opposing side so as to counterbalance the moment. These things didn’t occur to anyone on this boat, so screams, gasps and curse-words aside, we reversed and were taken at break-neck speed to Railay West.

From 09 Jan 2010

From 09 Jan 2010

The boat moors on the nice side (West). I specify nice as the beach looks nice. That has no bearing on my opinion of the place (to which I’ll elaborate in a later post), and if you head through the cut to the East side, it’s less nice. Hotels here range from the mildly expensive to the utterly outrageous - 12500 baht for an evening is around £250. Having wondered around for an hour or so and mutually and telepathically decided that my sister and I needed a break from each other, I headed off to hire a sea kayak.
It’s a shame I’d forgotten my watch and was simply too scared to lose my camera to take pictures. The scenery and limestone cliffs are gorgeous and perfect for wide-angle photography. What they’re not ideal for, however, is kayaking around the far side of. I decided to tempt fate and having won, was glad to be back in safer waters. Or so I thought: Double-taking what appeared to be a plastic bag, I stopped the boat hard and paddled slowly closer. Shocked and scared, I sat still, with my paddle close in the boat as a white jellyfish around a metre wide bobbed by my kayak. I’d love to identify the species to know if it was poisonous. Either way, I paddled back to land rather promptly.

From 09 Jan 2010

I’ll take stroke, you can have bow

Number off from bow when ready! Ah, well the sea kayaks only have two spots, although there is room for a third non-paddler. With a very brief introduction to kayak paddling technique, we’re given waterproof bags to put valuables in and loaded up in to our boats with military efficiency.
It’s stunning scenery everywhere you turn in Tharnbok Korannee (one of the many National Parks in Krabi), where we’ll be spending the day paddling and visiting sites protected by the state. Through narrow passages and caves, and over harsh rocks that will run you aground if you’re not paying absolute attention, Yo Yo and Noo will be our guides.

From 08 Jan 2010

From 08 Jan 2010

I’m humbled to hear that they both work every day of the week and earn around £1,600 per annum. That’s considered a good wage – they don’t have statutory holiday, sick-leave, or an HR department – it’s hard knox every step. In spite of this, however, they are both wonderfully entertaining hosts and have a wealth of knowledge and experience to share. Noo asked our names just once, and managed to remember all 10 names for the remainder of the day.
This beats paddling on the Thames. In fact, this is by far and away the most serene place I have ever enjoyed water sports. I’m surrounded by crabs of luminescent colours, mudfish, geckos and ants an inch long. And these are just the creatures I can vaguely identify – you don’t get this kind of wildlife on any river in Blighty.
About a kilometre downstream the scull cave is found. As we moor up, it’s up the stairs and inside to view the several-millennia old paintings. Yo Yo has a great sense of humour and managed to keep us laughing and giggling all day. Each painting he illuminates by torch, we are asked what it may be. Anything with a stickman he suggests is “ladyboy”. This picture he insists is a tellietubbie:

From 08 Jan 2010

Up to the top of the cave and I’ve a feeling Yo Yo’s taken a shine to my sister. I suggested 2000 baht was a fair price – he reverts with 4000. Clearly not all Thais have the skill of bartering. For this I receive a smack on the shoulder, but I know she’s flattered.
After lunch and back out for a long paddle, this time in the opposite direction to visit a rubber tree plantation and something that is best described by picture. It’s pitch black through the entrance cave, so the guides go first to illuminate. As we pass in single file scraping by the razor sharp walls to our left and right, it’s difficult to avoid the rocks lying in wait just underneath the surface. Our reward is as follows. And with long-tail monkeys jumping frivolously from tree to tree a hundred feet above, it’s breathtaking.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/22017652

From 08 Jan 2010

And on the 7th Day there was Rain

The sales assistant in Cotswold, Kingston-upon-Thames, was very helpful in assisting with most-likely idle items for travelling. As soon as I mentioned my travel plans, his eyes lit up with affection and he immediately warmed to me, in the same way a fellow traveller would. Questioning footwear, “Don’t bother taking hiking boots, you’ll live in flip flops” he said, and as I nodded he continued “and as for clothes, there’s no need for waterproofs – as when it does rain, you’ll be glad for it”.
I agree. This kind of rain soaks you through to the bone in a matter of minutes. That’s no excuse not to brave it. Whilst the other tourists sat in the reception waiting for it to clear up, I was more than happy to jump in a Soorng-taa-ou and pay the 20 baht for a 5K ride in to Ao Nang.

From 07 Jan 2010

Within 4 hours the sky starts to clear and the mist can be seen peeling away from the distant islands. A sign catches my eye and although the red writing appears to be of some warning, it looks intriguing ahead. My most interesting pictures have been taken when around streets not often visited by farang (foreigners), and this is no exception:

From 07 Jan 2010

Ending the day with a gargantuan 2-course spread costing £1.20 each, the chef evidently takes pleasure in her work. I’m stuffed and ready to hit the nightlife.

From 07 Jan 2010

From 07 Jan 2010

My first 5k

It may as well have been. The heat and humidity, combined with exhaustion from the Bangkok-Krabi transit meant my time was hardly earth-shattering, and certainly no PB. Sticking to my guns though, I’ve done the first. And here it is in all its sweat-drenched, panting, red-faced glory:

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/21792242

Size matters

Height certainly has its advantages, though on an overnight sleeper train, you're better off no greater than 5'6". If you're unlucky enough to be over the prerequisite height, assume the foetal sleeping position as soon as you are able.
From the corner of my eye the ticket inspectors appear. Make no mistake, these gents look formidable in their skin-tight uniforms. Before I’ve had a chance to decide where to unload my backpacks, various women appear trying to sell foodstuffs. It all looks interesting and has strange symbols that my Western upbringing simply cannot comprehend. Always willing and able to speak English, I’m soon informed that it’s essentially light snacks before bedtime.

The gentle lulling of South West Trains has always had a way of rocking me to sleep in its large metal cradle. But this train was sadly not so effective – due in part to a loose metal rod, whose resonant frequency coincidentally matched the engines hum. Thankfully exhaustion soon set in, as my body clock knew of the impending 6am start, and out like a light, I was.

As my two alarms fire in quick succession, 6am has arrived and suddenly I'm wondering how I'll know where to alight. Why didn't this occur to me earlier, why do none of the guidebooks cover this?
The entirety of the train is awake within 30 minutes and we are all standing around aimlessly gawping at one another, each speaking their own European language for "where the hell are we?” Soon enough, however, we are all directed from the train where as if by magic, a troop of touts appear shouting place names and prices. In a daze of tired confusion it’s going to be hard to avoid a scam. Thankfully my sister’s instincts take over and her Scottish/Chinese heritage is unleashed on the unsuspecting locals. This is far worse than they’d expect from a Westerner. Smirking smugly, I stand back and let her eat the touts for breakfast.

This is another inexcusable oversight by travel guides – when stating "get the bus for 150 baht" they actually mean the following:-
Get the local bus for 5 baht to Surat Thani town, as the train station is around 15k west of it.
Find the government office to take the state-run coach from there.
It's located [here].
If you are unsure where to alight, ask the ticket inspector and they will help.
(I shall elaborate on my feelings toward Lonely Planet books in a later blog.)

This is all hindsight, and the reality was that even with great resolve to resist the lemming and herding instinct, we did end up bartering for an overpriced ticket. The option was simple – risk being stranded and use intelligence to find our own way; or chew, swallow and begrudgingly digest the path of least resistance. The commute involved two buses, the first of which was with locals, however, and smiling at the similar open-windowed monstrosities carrying scores of school children, I was greeted en-mass by waves and cheers. Expensive ticket aside, it was priceless.

From 05 Jan 2010

Amongst other things, the temple of docile and rather large puddy tats

From 04 Jan 2010

From 04 Jan 2010

Efficient driving. Low revs, early gear changes. Ensuring road-speed matching. Changing down only when necessary. Accelerating progressively, yet gently. These are all things that our driver had no knowledge or intention of following. Sitting at the back, I was lucky enough to be somewhat oblivious to the dangerous driving that we were all enduring; at one point we were actually doing 108 km/h whilst less than one foot from a car infront. Yes my watch had GPS-lock, so that's measured.
All of this lack of health and safety (and more, such as the handrail-less Bridge below), is strangely refreshing. No longer was I bound to the paper-pushing, nanny-state communism of the UK; I was free to take my own decisions and face the consequences of acting stupidly. And how many people have fallen off this bridge - none, according to the guide.

From 04 Jan 2010

On from the bridge to a train stop 30 minutes away, we all boarded a train, perhaps constructed during WWII. The journey took us over a bridge crossing a perilously steep drop. I was bold enough to hang out of the train to capture a quick snap, though one of the girls in our convoy was not so lucky - her camera was taken by a theiving tree branch whilst she carelessly dangled her entire upper-frame from the window. Tut tut, bad tree, bad.

From 04 Jan 2010

And finally a quick, but all too brief stop to visit the puddies. According to the girl from Surrey on placement, it turns out the best way to experience the Tigers, is by early arrival and paying around £100 for a full day. I'm happy with my half an hour spent debating whether to touch the tackle of this thing or not - it didn't matter how much the very nice Thai lady said "you can touch, you can touch", I just wasn't all that keen.
On large chained leaches and fed cooked meat, so as not to associate blood with food, I'm quite certain that the Tigers receive better dental and health care than the locals that look after them. I still feel, and quite strongly, that these majestic creatures should be in the wild where they belong and not subject to the "oohs" and "ahs" of passing-by punters.

From 04 Jan 2010

So an intriguing day; one where I met an exceptionally well travelled and friendly gay couple from Singapore - one of whom is a fellow Dragon Boater. A couple from Minesota that I was convinced were in fact mother and son. A pair of girls from Chigaco, more interested in themselves and purchasing jewellry than culture and history. A German solo traveller, whose eyes were created from precisely the same substance as the emerald buddah. Yet throughout the day we all bonded and formed relationships, which whilst some may become stagnant on facebook, have gone some way in restoring my faith in humanity.

The Mysterious Cities of Gold

Children of the Sun
See your time has just begun
Searching for your ways
Through adventures everyday

Every day and night
With the condor in flight
With all your friends in tow
We search for the Cities of Gold

From 02 Jan 2010

From 02 Jan 2010

I clearly make no Esteban.
Turn up early! Heed my advice! Thais get in FoC, whereas "Foreigners" have to pay £7 to visit the grand palace, money museum and something else that we couldn't find. Remember to remove shoes, hats and do not take pictures when entering the shrine of the Emerald Buddah. And yes, the locals will most definitely notice if you try to sneak a shot in - whilst they're busy trying to force you out as quick as you were forced in. It's a tidal wave of hot, sweaty, incense burning humans that unrelentingly takes you through. Indeed, once inside, there's very little to see, as the little dude is perched atop a large pyramid-shaped pedestal. It even turns out that the little blighter is so revered that he has three outfits for the year. Yes you read that correctly, they change his attire during each season. That's some dedication to the cause, hey.

From 02 Jan 2010

This is my rifle, this is my friend.
There are many like it, but this one is mine.

Private Pile, this gent is not.

Finally on to a mini construction of Ankhor Wat. In due course I'll visit this wonder of the world - but as an idea of scale, there are cities inside this thing.

From 02 Jan 2010

Toe Sucking

It's quite harmless, I promise you. They're perfect for the job - toothless, secreting a chemical that aids in regeneration. Personally I prefer to have more than one at once. And that's precisely what the Garra fish do - suck the dead skin from your feet (or anything else you care to dip in the water). Small and black, some only a few centimeters long, maturing in to orange goldfish-like in appearence, with whiskers.
After a very dissapointing meal, where it took an hour and a half from sitting down to eating, we found a small boutique hotel and decided to pay 150baht for 40mins of toe sucking. If you're ticklish or have sensitive feet, be warned, the first sensation is akin to million soft needles prickling gently at your feet. It soon passes and after half an hour you will have "less odour feet".
An interesting experience, one which has left me wondering just how much of a market there would be in the UK for it. Perhaps the animal facists may have a word or two on the subject, but nonetheless it seems like a high margin service to offer.

01 Jan 2010

No I don't want a tuk tuk

So please stop asking.

"Tuk Tuk, cheap cheap?"
Fine thanks.
"Tuk Tuk, Khaosan Road?"
I'm ok to walk, thank you.
"Sex show, Pat Pong. Tuk Tuk, I take."
Thanks but no.
"Tuk Tuk, Sir?"
'Wave of hand and shake of head'

So far Bangkok is beyond a single adjective of description. Everything points upwards, in an upside down teardrop shape. The humidity hits you hard each time the joyous air-conditioned confines of your hotel room are left. It's almost like hitting the wall during a half-marathon, sapping all energy and inclination from you in an instant. And most importantly, yes everyone is incredibly friendly.
There are vicious rumours about scandals, scams and con artists, but it doesn't take a great deal of intelligence to avoid these kinds of sticky situations. Lonely Planet exaggerates. In fact, their guide has been almost useless. I'm struggling to think of anything that's helped. Should you decide to visit Thailand - turn up with a small backpack of items. Important things - insulin if you're diabetic, inhalers for asthma for example. You don't even need to bring enough to last a week, the stalls sell everything in the UK and far far more, but cheaper. Speak to people to find out their suggestions or find your own way. Thailand really has evolved to suit tourists travelling on a shoestring perfectly.
This place never stops, there is no last orders or rush for - well anything in fact. If Laos is supposed to be even more laid back than here, how would anyone get anything done?


So back to the tuk tuks. I almost soiled myself the first corner the driver took. It was a sharp left, and approaching at around 30, he drove over the bumps, rather than taking the corner slower. Perhaps he was aiming for the racing line. Either way, clipping the apex caused my sister to scream (which is a rareity), and my arms to flail wildly for the nearest handrail. Oh, they're on the back, now noted.
Street food is a necessity. If you don't want to try it, don't bother coming. I handed over 30 baht and received a plate stacked full of pad thai. That's 60 pence, and was possibly the best I've ever had. And it doesn't come hot as you add your own chillis. Perfect: More money to spend on accomodation, amongst other things, of course.

Sawadee Kup

31 Dec 2009

Long haul flights should always be taken during the day. Even with exit isle seats, it's just impossible to find a sleeping position for much longer than an hour, before one or more muscles start to cramp. My last night in the UK of little sleep, followed by a completely sleepless one, didn't seem to lull the euphoric feeling of adventure that passed over me whilst mounting my backpacks on front and back.
You should ignore everything and find the bus at exit point 8. Just make sure to count, as they won't announce where each stop is. Hiking around in what felt like 90% humidity and almost 20Kg strapped to my torsoe, still didn't manage to disuade me that taking a year out was my best idea yet. Bangkok can be difficult to navigate, and whilst I successfully got us 20m from the hotel's doorstep, I neglected to agree to follow a small sign my sister spotted. This ended in a small "round-the-block" taxi journey where I questioned as to why we were travelling in a circle. "Ah", she says, "see, you should have listened".
Sense of humours both failed immediately, when told that the hotel had not booked us two rooms, just one. To their credit, however, we were then both upgraded to deluxe rooms. Good review on website coming up.
Showering frequency is about the same as meals in this kind of climate. So a quick change and out again for a wander. It's not far, it's where all backpackers go, it's full of eateries, and so Khao San Road it is. Being white, male, blonde, blue-eyed and of general honky disposition, I stick out in a crowd. This is no bad thing - I actually rather enjoy it. Moreso as people look at me in wonder and fascination, rather than with contempt as is more commonplace for foreigners in London. "I love your top!" yells an American girl, who's part of a group that are teaching English and are based in Korea. Friendly, extrovert and really quite knowledgable, an evening of trading travel stories means I now have my San Francisco and Vegas route plotted.
Speaking of plotting routes, I think the heat has caused a strange and inexplicable change of heart with regards to running. In this weather I doubt I'd manage a few K, let alone 10. I may try, but I fear the lack of pavements and anyone doing anything similar may draw unwanted attention. In fact, how do Thais keep themselves so fit and healthy? No one seems to exercise and there is food everywhere you turn. It's a gormandising food lover's paradise and I've yet to spot a fei lao. Perhaps it's just the heat, as my appetite has been dead since arrival.
On that note, one thing is for certain - I am going to burn here.

Shopping for shorts

The first thing the travel nurse advised me was that "as a male traveller", I should take plenty of precaution and ideally seek high-class ladyboys if at all possible. A friend also suggested I "stick to Western girls", as she too feared for my health. Speaking to the English husband of a Thai lady (an actual bonified, genuine female I'll have you know), he iterated in no uncertain terms, that it is almost physically impossible to tell gender apart. Crocodile Dundee would even get unstuck.
Whilst homogeneous humans do worry me, there's also the issue of blood sucking insects. Sleeping blanket, pillow case (as advised), Deet spray, Mosquito net - all packed. Bag now quarter full.
Ah, an important oversight - Asthma. While almost completely cured due to the wonders of running, it still needs keeping in check. A years supply - what does that equate to? It's far too long since Uni to remember how to formulate things: 5K 3-4 times a week. 10K once a week perhaps? Walking perhaps 10K each day, probability higher than running. Then there's the swimming, climbing, hiking and general humid air. Bag now half full. I hope they don't think I'm using inhalers to traffic illegal substances. Insurance policy covers asthma - result.
And now to the enormity of paperwork that I have completed in the last 6 months. It's amazing how everything in the UK seems to be designed around the assumption that nothing ever changes. It's far easier to setup a direct debit and contract, than to end one. I needed to put things in writing, jump in the Delorean and go back to 1885, so that I could retreive a fax machine and put a wax seal on letters to prove my identity. I've lost count of how many forms I've signed, requesting further forms to be filled in and signed. Through all this, I had been making a concerted effort to reduce my use of profanities, but I admit that swearing inexorably at the maddening complexity of paperwork and bureaucracy has happened more than once. Damn those process-orientated monkeys.
It's been a long hard slog organising a R.T.W. trip, but Alles in Ordnung finally. Almost 31 years of collected tat has been trimmed to 7 boxes and some furniture. And going through everything, listing on eBay, flogging to friends, even selling my beautiful Mini Cooper has been the most wonderful, cleansing and uplifting thing I've ever done. My plan of how to deal with full-time employment worked perfectly - I shall effectively be paid till January-end. Result.
All done, a sense of wonder, with a hint of stomach butterflies is all that I'm left with. My eReader has been loaded with all the travel guides I could possibly find on torrent sites - my last few weeks at work had to be made productive somehow (GTA IV and Snooker were getting a little tedious). All that remains is a last dash to Kingston to find some cargo shorts. In Winter. I may well have two hopes yet.
Happy New Year everyone.