End of July and Lombok

The week that followed the road trip was uneventful in comparison. With Lindsey away, I was left to work by myself. It allowed me to write more for Green Warriors and complete all the small tasks which was quite enjoyable but took a lot of self-motivation.

I spent most evenings at Beck's; laying out a spread of food that was amazing as always. I met one of Becks's friends, Anna, who had just spent a year volunteering on a permaculture project in Bangladesh. She too had studied Environmental Science, and found we had a lot in common. Unfortunately she headed to Lombok the following day, so our encounter was brief.

Anna's departure did inspire me and Beck's to make a trip to Lombok, however, deciding to do another road trip at the weekend. When Lindsey returned she headed straight to the Bike Rental and we got her a moped. I taught her how to ride and in a few days she had it under control. With her new found confidence, she hoped on the bike and headed with us to Lombok.

'Mr corupcy' was waiting at the dock and got us all to hand over driving licenses and registration. Unfortunately Beck's didn't have her license so we had to leave her bike in Bali. We were pretty annoyed but it ended up working out cheaper because we just had to pay per bike rather than per person.

We arrived to Lombok as the sun was setting. The sky was clear, the water calm, the colours hazy and serene. Pale oranges had been brushed across the sky and reflected off the water. It was a sunset unlike that in Bali. More dry and alluring; soft and subtle.

Lombok seems world's apart from Bali, and upon reading a paper by Alfred Russel Wallace, I found out why that was. Writing more than 150 years ago, Wallace found that the flora and fauna present on the islands East of Bali must have once formed part of Australasia, whilst the islands to the West, including Bali itself, where once part of the SEA mainland. Thus, although they are separated by a mere 22 miles of sea, the landscape is rugged, dry and underdeveloped. Driving off the boat, it was like we were in uncharted territory. Bar the port and newly-paved road, the landscape was an endless wave of hills shaded hues of green and brown with trees hardy and sparse. Dusk had fallen and although the air was still hot from the days heat, it was cooling as the coastal winds started to blow ashore.

Driving from the port, we started our journey to Kuta (nothing like the one in Bali!). The map provided by the lonely planet was basic but showed the main roads leading South. We intended to simply drive along a minor road and then on to the coastal road that connects it to Kuta. Unfortunately it wasn't that simple.

Roads in Lombok are mainly primitive and unavigable. The road we had hoped to take wasn't exactly what we would constitute as a road, but more like a gravel pit. Sending us on a detour, we were directed North instead of South. Before realising it, we were half way up the coast in the wrong direction. By this point it was pitch black. Stopping in a petrol station, we asked for directions and finally found out where we needed to go. I hate to say it but the newly built international airport proved to be quite useful as the road that links it to the rest of the island is freshly tarmacked and well signposted. With a little luck, and Beck's use of Bahasa Indonesian, we made it to Kuta an hour later.

We sat down for a well deserved drink and a bit of food, deciding to find accommodation afterward. As the town consisted of only two main roads and there seemed to be very few tourists, we thought finding a place to stay would be easy. Wishful thinking! We spent the next 2 hours trying to find accommodation, asking every place we could find. It was quite fun driving door to door but the novelty soon wore off. Taking pity on us, some locals tried to help but it wasn't until 12.30am that we could finally lay our heads. It turned out pretty well and the room was massive. Within no time, we were sleeping like babies.

After a well deserved lie-in, we headed to a beach along the coast. A small, windy road with beautiful views of forest and villages lead to our first stop: Tanjung A'an beach. We were the first to arrive and surprised as the coastline was stunning. A horseshoe cove of sandstone rocks and hills surrounded the white sandy beach and crystal clear water. There was nothing but us and the sea. We were all so happy that we quickly rushed into the cool water. Taking it all in, we were smiling from ear to ear. We had all be working hard the past few months and knew we truly deserved this weekend away. Before long we were drifting off to sleep, our bodies being battered by the intense heat.

I awoke to the sound of screaming kids. Some locals had arrived in a mini van and were all making there way to our once private beach. It was bizarre to see everyone dive in fully clothed, but you forget that you are in Indonesia; a country with one of the largest populations of muslims. We thought we were a bit overexposed in our bikini's but noone seemed to mind. Instead, the kids found it fascinating and quickly made their way towards us. A man informed me, Linds and Beck's that they were from a small village that had never before seen a white person. We felt famous as the kids congregated round all smiling and looking curious. It was a great moment.

When we started to get hungry, we drove back along the coast and up another poor excuse of a road to get to a restaurant recommended by the guide book. For once the LP provided some good information. We arrived at ''' to find stunning views of the coast below. The food was great, but the view by far exceeded it!

A dirt track led downhill and through paddy fields to reach the next beach. It took an inordinate amount of time as we had to continuously weave to avoid potholes, but it was really fun to drive along and all the stares and smiles made it even more worthwhile. As Lombok is yet to experience the influx of tourists that is seen in Bali, the locals are still intrigued and surprised by westerner's; let alone a group of girls on mopeds!

When we arrived at Mawun beach we were even more awe struck. White sand, clearer skies, bluer water. A picture postcard and, again, deserted. The same routine unfolded and within no time, we were surrounded by intrigued children. We spent most of the afternoon playing with them and taking photos of the beautiful scenery. To top it off, we drove past a street procession on the way back, with people dancing in the street and playing music. We coasted alongside and shared in the energy. It was one of the best days so far!

Heading for drinks and dinner in the evening, we realised that we may have caught a little too much sun - salmon comes to mind. Toddling along, in our most free-flowing clothes, we sat down to some cheap and tasty food and then called it a night. Sun stroke was the likely cause for an early night.

Before we knew it, we were back on the boat to Bali. It was a very short weekend getaway but one I won't forget any time soon.

The following week was my last. I had planned to make the most of it by visiting places I had yet to see, but unfortunately I got Salmonelsis Typhoid! Fever and vomiting was proceeded by a week in bed. It was not the week I had envisioned. Finally recovering enough to say my goodbyes, I had my final meal at Beck's, with Linds, Beck's sister and Dustin. It was really sad to say my goodbyes as I had formed a special bond with all of them. I learnt so much from all of them and they were always receptive and caring towards me. I love them all dearly and miss them so much. I know I will see them again, but not knowing when is a sad realisation. x

MT Batur for sunrise and the epic road trip

5am: Set off from Ubud
Shaundrell, Becks and I set off early in order to catch the sunrise. The air was crisp and cold so choosing to ride in shorts and t-shirt, with only a thin and holey jacket to protect me, probably wasn't the best idea. From Beck's house, it was an easy drive an hour North to Kintamani - the town closest to Batur. We arrived, set up our cameras and waited with eager anticipation. Slowly, minute by minute, the black sky began to fade. Greys replaced blacks and the air started to warm. The sky was clear, the clouds resting in the valleys creating a blanket over lake Batur.

6am: the main event
The sun emerged from behind Batur. Red, orange, pink, blue; the sky burst into colour. The heat warmed our cold bodies and the suns raise broke through, lighting the valley, the mountains and the sky above. It was majestic and surreal and felt as if we were mere observers, looking down from above, observing from the heavens. I have seen a fair few sunrises but this was by far the most beautiful.

7am: Kintamani Market
After a sweet coffee (they like to use condensed milk and sugar), we drove a short way down hill to the local market. It was in full swing and was brimming with life. People were selling fresh produce, live animals, flowers, clothes and breakfast. We made the latter our priority. Keen to try some more Balinese food, I went on a recommendation from Becks and tried a local favourite of black rice, sweetened with palm sugar, fluorescent cakes, naturally dyed pink or green using pandan leaves, fried banana and coconut and sesame balls. Not only had I over indulged, I had also overdosed on sugar. The rice in itself was so sweet that eating anything else just heightened the sugar levels. I left feeling sick, my teeth sensitive and my head buzzing.

8am: Lake Batur and the valley
We left the market and drove somewhat aimlessly past Mt Batur and downhill towards the lake. We didn't really know where we were going, but just decided to try and take the most scenic route home. The road was smooth although the corners and contours were somewhat more of a challenge. The tree-lined road provided much needed shade as the sun was being to rise high in the sky. Cruising along, we kept catching glimpses of the surrounding mountain. Soon we reached open road. The scenery was insane. It reminded a little like death valley, in the sense that the plains seemed infinite and barren but unlike Nevada, Bali's lush and tropical vegetation still prevailed. Semi-arid shrubs and scraggly trees lined our path and every now and again crop fields were visible.

9am: The monstorous mountain and bumpy ride
So we ended up getting a bit lost coming to a dead end - the path simply ceased to exist. Turning around we asked directions in the tiny village. We thought it would be easy to get to the coastal road on the East of Bali by simply driving in that direction. How we were wrong. The only way was up a mountain on roads which only the locals are brave enough to attempt. We had come so far so decided to try our luck.

The road was extremely windy and pot-holed. Full power had to be applied to make it up and I somehow made it, although Beck's had to go back to collect a struggling Shaundrell. The road down was a dirt track traversing through beautiful countryside and small hamlets. We drove for about 2hours through the sand and gravel trying to keep balance. Shaundrell veered off the road a few times and fell from her bike several times. I managed to keep the bike steady but my bike was not playing fair. It broke down 3 or 4 times during the midday heat. Each time I had to put the kick stand up and manually start it. I proved to be completely useless and had to rely on local help. Making it look easy, I drove of rosy cheeked.


12pm: Coastal Crusing
We finally tackled the beast and it was great relief that we pulled over for a drink. I got of the bike feeling weak at the knees.  The sun had got to me a bit but I soon felt better after a sugary 7-up. Returning to my bike, I realised the spring had snapped off the kick stand. I wasn't having much luck with my bike. I tied the stand to the bike with a hair bobble and we set off again along the smooth Eastern coastal road.

1pm: White sand beach and Lunch
Becks said she was going to take us to her favourite beach in Bali. I couldn't wait to finally get of the moped as my bum was numb, my hands sore and my face tingling from the sun. Heading off the main road, it was another bumpy ride on a dirt track towards the beach. Emerging from behind the trees, I could glimpse the white sand and bluer than blue ocean. Becks choose well. Taking off my shoes and burying my feet in the sand was a welcome relief. We ordered some food and then fell asleep for a few hours on some cushioned sun beds. It was one of the best sleeps I've ever had!

4pm: Drive home
Waking to the sounds of the ocean, I felt refreshed and ready to go. After dipping my legs in the water, we set off again for the final ride back to Ubud. At 6pm we finally made it back. We made plans to go out, but instead ordered take-away round Beck's and slept in Steve's super-soft double bed.

Sunday was a day of relaxation. I was feeling slightly crisp and sore so just chilled in a coffee shop, reading my book. I got a second wind in the evening so met Shaudrell for drinks in the Shisha Lounge, ending in Napi Orti, Ubud's version of a Reggae bar.

Shaundrell left for Singapore on the Monday. I only knew her a few days but she really left an impression on me. I was always smiling with her around and know she will share her happiness with everyone else she meets. See you soon xx

Bali: End of June

Once again I am falling behind on my blog. I have been so busy these past two months that I have barely had time to catch my breath. The next three(ish) posts will try to cram in as much as possible about my time in Bali. I hope they will be short and sweet, but going by the length of all my previous posts, I am highly doubtful. So, where to begin

The end of June ended in tears. I said farewell to Justin and Steve in the space of a week. Justin's visa, and money, had run out so he headed back to Aus to save up and return in November. Steve, on the other hand, headed to Ethiopia to help 'train trainers'. His Green Warrior work was so successful in Uganda that he is now a man in high demand, with many organisations asking for his assistance! As he was spending a month there, it was the last time I was to see him... well for this trip anyway.

The following week Steve's friend Simon paid us a visit. We showed him round Ubud and took a trip to the Tellalagan rice terraces just north of Ubud. I drove Simon's moped, and Linds hitched a ride on the back of Chakra's, with Simon driving (the bike is far too heavy for me to control). The terraces seem somewhat out of place, just perched on the roadside but they are a beauty to behold. They cascade down the hillside and rap round, creating a terraced cove. The three of us somehow managed to climb down them towards the river below. Bar the blue sky, all was visible was green. Trickling water could be heard from the irrgating waterfalls

and the odd birds song echoed in the valley. As it was still out of tourist season, we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

The following day we visited Green School. I decided to finally face my fears and rent a moped. I felt a lot more confident.. even to the point of cocky as I decided I could drive the hour out of town, on roads I didn't know, with Linds on the back. Miraculously we made it in one piece. The roads were rather forgiving, although when we entered the road leading up to green school, their condition deteriorated rapidly. Dirt tracks replaced tarmac. The paths narrowed and I had to cross a bridge over a ravine, just wide enough for the moped, several times as we got lost. The lack of signage was proving to be slightly inconvenient. We eventually navigated our way through jungle to the school and made it just in time for the tour. (for more info on Green School, read my earlier post from April(?)).

Trying to make the most of our day, we headed to Goa Gajah after. It translates to Elephant Cave and although the cave is nothing to shout about, the surrounding jungle is. Trees tower above and the river rages below. There were lots of tropical flowers I hadn't seen before and a family compound set amongst rice paddies.

On Friday of the same week, me and Linds went to Rebecca's. We had great food, as always, watched The Hours and met a lovely lady called Shaundrell. From South Carolina, born and raised (sorry, had to add that), she had spent the last 9 months in Australia. She is vivacious, bubbly and slightly mad. I loved her immediately!

The next day Linds left for a week long trip to Jakarta. Me, Becks and Shaundrell had arranged a road trip to Mt Batur for sunrise so set off at 5am. It was set to be one of the best days I had spent on the Island!

Lovina Tour

Rain began to pour. I was outside waiting for a bus at 8.30 on a Saturday, with a hangover! This was not a good start to my weekend. My stomach was churning and my head pounded... this better be a bloody good tour.

The bus finally arrived. I climbed on and sat next to two guys from Germany whilst Lindsey sat in front. Setting off I began to feel better and the clouds began to part. The rain subsided as we approached our first stop , the Family palace. It is entered from a bridge that leads across a lake to an ornate entrance. It oozes traditional Balinese architecture, with its geometrical designs, carved into red brick and stone.  A sign to our left reads:
''During menstruation ladies are strictly not allowed to enter the temple"

We walked through to a courtyard and then round back to explore the other structures. It was set amongst a forest with paths leading down to a river. It was peaceful and a nice start to the day. As soon as we got back into the van, the heavens opened. Good timing!

The Coffee plantation was next on the agenda. Driving past rice fields and small villages, we headed down a country road to the plantation, which also grows galangal, lemongrass, cocunuts and other crops. A lovely woman showed us round and told us about the renowned Civet coffee. Locally known as Kopi Luwak, the coffee is made from coffee cherries which have been eaten and then digested by the Asian Palm Civet. The lady insists it tastes great, but at Rp 40,000 a cup, I am not convinced (plus the fact Linds said it really isn't anything to shout about). Bypassing the over-priced cuppa we sat down to a free tasting of Lemon Tea, Ginseng Coffee, Ginger Tea, Bali coffee and Hot chocolate. I ended up buying the first three as they tasted so good, mainly due to the high sugar content.

Leaving the plantation, we drove through Strawberry hill. Unsuprisingly, farmers grow Strawberries on its slopes and the market town you pass on the decent is scattered with bursts of red and pink from all the punnets lining the vendors displays. Cars lined the streets of our next destination. We arrived at a Temple in Bedugul, set on the Beratan lake. Ulun Danu temple is dedicated to the goddess of the lake, and is famous for Hindu worship. We were very lucky to witness a ceremony when we arrived and it is nothing like you have ever seen. Thousands of people descended on the temple, all dressed in their best Kabaya (lace blouses) and Kamblan (batik waistbands) to pay respect to the god(s). I tried to ask our tour guide what the ceremony was about but unfortunately the language barrier invalidates the response I received. We spent almost an hour just soaking up the ambiance and people watching. It was my favourite part of the day.

After denting a car whilst trying to maneuver out of a parking space, our driver hastily drove us to Git Git Waterfalls. The decent from the roadside down to the falls was quite a challenge for our weary bodies but me and Linds managed to make it, partly due to stopping every 5 minutes to browse the wears of the hawkers lining the steps. We gathered speed as we heard the booming sound of water against rock. Some 35m high, it is protected by a dense forest that caresses the hillside. Just 10 minutes from Singaraja,  it feels like you are far removed from civilisation, well apart from the Chinese tourists and the kids trying to sell you bracelets.

Lunch was spent at Lovina and we were thoroughly unimpressed. The tide was in and the beach non-existent. The town seemed to be just a narrow strip of overpriced restaurants on the sea-front (although we later realised this was simply because our driver took us to the rubbish part) and misunderstanding the restaurant owner, we paid Rp50000 for our meal when we thought it was to cost just Rp15000. Oops.

The hot springs of Banjar was our last stop. It was a great way to relax after a very hard day of sightseeing. The water was more luke-warm and although it is considered to have restorative and healing powers, I found the water to be somewhat slimy, and couldn't help think of all the dead skin cells. Nonetheless, I really enjoyed it as it was mainly used by locals and they were all smiling. The setting was serene, nestled amongst a forested garden and although we were a little rushed, it was a great end to the tour.

Our driver kindly stopped on the way back to let us take photos of the twin lakes of Tamblingan and Buyan although the sunset he promised was somewhat non-existent.

Saying farewell to the driver and its passengers, I stepped off the bus at ARMA. The museum of art and performance is just a stones throw away from where I am living in Ubud. I had heard there was a free Bellydancing show on that evening so I went to check it out. I had arrived just in time and sat for most of the duration. I was so glad to finally catch a show and all the more it was for free! I walked home with a smile on my face. What a productive day for a hangover! I was about to call it a night when I heard an interesting noise coming from the direction of the community centre. Right next toChakra's house, I decided to check it out. Inside there were 50+ locals watching a performance of what I can only describe as stomp. Men in tradtional outfits were doing body percussion and chanting in a hypnotic manner. It was mesmerising. I sat down and watched. They were finishing their performance but I was glad to catch the ending. When I thought I had been performanced out, another group emerged onto the stage. Dressed in japanese martial arts gear, a group of 20-something kids started performing martial arts whilst drumming (I later found out it is called Wadaiko). It was insane. I was so captivated and although the performance lasted over an hour it felt like mere minutes. Returning home feeling exhausted, I was greeted by Chakra, Justin and his friend Evan playing drums and guitar. I retold my tales from my epic day and then headed to bed.

Emotional Upheaval

Starting work on Monday, I was glad to be back to some form of normality. I was excited about the week ahead and spending some quality time with Justin as it was his last full week!

On Tuesday I met up with Lisa, Ellie and Terri on, catching them on their way to Australia. I met them in the afternoon and took them to the Monkey Forest as I hadn't been there yet. It is a reserve for the Balinese long-tailed macaque and houses three sacred temples. Right in the centre of town you are transported to a lost world upon entering. You walk down into a forested valley, with winding paths that lead down to the stream at its heart. Monkeys are running wild, rustling the trees, soaking up the sun and being mischievous. We saw several monkeys getting down and dirty, whilst others were sprawled out along the paths blocking our passage. It was really good fun and a great chance to catch up with the girls. We got to see a couple in traditional dress having there wedding photos taken and had a look around one of the temples. Stopping over the bridge to take photos, I also got attacked by a monkey who had felt a plastic bottle in my bag. Rooting through it, he tossed aside my wallet and retrieved his play toy. I thought it best to stand still. The girls thought it best to take photos.

In the evening I went to look up flights for Will. He told me a few days before that he could no longer afford to come visit me. It broke my heart knowing it wouldn't be till October when I could next see him! I searched for over 2 hours, looking at numerous comparison websites and phoning dozens of travel agencies. After all that effort, I had to conclude that it was just too expensive. I left feeling so low. I had a shit weekend and now I wasn't going to get to see the love of my life for FIVE months. I walked slowly back to my bike. Negative thoughts began to consume me. Why couldn't Will afford to see me? Why did I go to Kuta? Why have I had such a crap week? Walking down the hill to my bike, I thought that at this rate my bike would be stolen too.

Shit! My bike! Bollocks! Where is it?

I broke down in tears. Low and behold, it had been stolen. Why is all this happening? I headed back to THK. Taking me almost half an hour, I returned home to find the place in silence. Justin was asleep and Suha was out. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Feeling very vulnerable and short tempered, a minor remark from Justin made be break down in tears at work. Shaking and short of breath, and went to sit down. I tried to hide my tears but they kept coming. It was uncontrollable. I had been conned out of money (which I may have failed to mention) in Kuta, my Mum was going through a horrible time and I couldn't comfort her, I couldn't see Will for another 3 months and now my bike has been stolen!!

Steve arrived and I hid in my embaressment. I didn't do a good job as he saw me and came and sat down beside me. He smiled, put his hand on my shoulder and comforted me. He gave me a somewhat inspirational speech that made me put things into perspective, telling me everything's OK and that everyone was behind me. I had such a great support system round me. I was doing a job I loved and was living in an Island paradise. Everything's OK.

I came to realise that I just wasn't putting things into perspective and that by not dealing with my issues straight away, and bottling up the emotions, the small issues became big ones. I was oozing negativity and it was generating bad karma. I was my own worst enemy, my thoughts were constantly clouded and I wasn't expressing how I felt. It rang true for a lot of my life. Small problems became big ones when I didn't deal with them. Emotions ran wild after supressing them for too long. I was coming to realise that I needed to believe in myself more, coming to realise that a problem shared really is a problem halved and coming to realise that I have so much potential. Longing to find a purpose, this really was becoming a journey of self-discovery.

Feeling calm and collected, I went back to work. In no time the smile was back on my face. When we finished, we all took a trip to Sari Organic for lunch. Just outside of the city centre, we were transported to the Bali I had been longing to see. Nestled amongst rice paddies, the tranquil landscape calmed and comforted me. It was a beautiful sunny day, the birds were singing and I was in paradise. I am so thankful for all I have experienced so far. This was one of my highlights! After lunch, we all went to have a look at the restaurants organic garden. We got to see what techniques they had been using and talked about ways we thought they could improve their practice. I really enjoyed generating some ideas. I'm starting to learn more and more.

That evening Suha decided to leave. He said he had been feeling out of place for a while and he found it difficult to communicate. It was unexpected but he said he would return. He never did. Me and Justin were feeling slightly perplexed but equally understanding. We both knew deep down that something was up, but unlike myself, Suha felt unable to express what he had been dealing with. What an emotional day!

When Lindsey arrived the next day for work we found out she was upset. That same night, she had found out something about a guy she was dating that she didn't want to. We both decided we needed to get away for a while. After work we both headed to town and booked a tour for that weekend.

Friday night we were back at Steve and Rebecca's for dinner. The usual crew was there, and we drank into the wee hours of the morning. Left feeling hungover, me and Lindsey were off at 8am to catch the bus for our tour.

Krazy Kuta

The first full week flew by. I got to know everyone a lot better and managed to slowly ease into work. It was hard and tiring but fun none the less - 'play time' as Justin likes to call it. Afternoons were free, and I spent most of them reading. In the evening, Suha and I tended to buy our food from local food stalls, spending 60p on average for veggies and rice. Local food is by far the cheapest, and probably the best food in Ubud. Gado Gado has become my favourite. It is a local dish with many variations. Essentially it is vegetables, rice and a spicy peanut sauce (just like sate). Some places serve it with tofu or tempe, others with egg and crackers. Each one tastes slightly different, but all taste yummy!

Suha and I headed to town Thursday to sample some of the nightlife. We ended up eating in a really expensive looking restaurant called 'Sagittarius'. Near the bottom of Monkey Forest Rd, it is a smallish eatery with oil paintings on the walls and candles on the tables. Opening the menu, I was surprised to find how reasonable the prices were. I order Mediterranean veg and salad and a large beer altogether costing less than 4GBP. I left with money in my pocket and food in my belly. We then headed to a place called Boom Boom for drinks. Hoping to see similar prices, I opened the drinks menu. Cocktails started at 5GBP and the cheapest drink on the menu was coffee: I decided to take the sobering option

We spent Friday working in Rebecca's garden, planting seedlings, creating raised beds and sowing seeds. In return, we were rewarded with a great lunch cooked by Rebecca. After we were finished, me and Suha made our way back to THK, packed our bags and headed to Kuta. I never had any intentions of paying Kuta a visit but as Suha was driving to return his bike there anyway I couldn't turn down the free lift. It took almost two hours to get there as the traffic was heavy and we kept getting lost. We arrived at about 4pm, and then parted ways. I checked into a hotel and booked some surfing lessons for the next day. A guy I met over coffee suggested I seek out Ewan as he gives private tutoring. I went with his advice.

I walked around aimlessly for a while and then decided to go for dinner. It was a solitary occassion and wasn't very enjoyable. I was gawped at for reading a book! There are a severe lack of book-worms in Kuta, so unless you have a beer in your hand you are considered an outlaw. Trying to ignore the unwanted attention, I immersed myself in the life of Karl Marks. Feeling rather deflated, I weighed up whether or not to go out. I know my intentions for travelling were not to get blind drunk, but I thought I would make an acception on this occasion... when in Rome.

Heading towards Legian Street, I began to hear the music pumping. Bright lights, tall buildings and drunk Aussies were all I could see. It reminded me of Guild Hall walk back home and I had to take a moment to realise what I was letting myself in for. Choosing the most appealing bar on the strip, I headed to the Reggae Bar. It was fairly empty when I arrived, so I pulled up a bar stoll and got chatting to the barman. A Javanese Rasta, he spoke fluent English and could make a great cocktail. I ended up having a really good conversation with him and he managed to teach me some Indonesian. When the bar was more full, and I felt drunk enough to socialise, I headed to a table and introduced myself to two Aussie girls and their three Indonesian friends. We all hit it off and I ended up staying out with them till about 4am. We ended the night in Sky Garden, a kind of super club split across several floors. I remember dancing to the music and thinking it was the best music I had ever heard, but actually have no memory of what was playing.

Stumbling home, I caught sight of a 24hr internet cafe. What a great time to phone Will I thought. It was 9pm UK time when I skyped him and although I don't remember what I said to him, I remember there was a lot of crying involved. Realising I was a drunken mess and had to be up in 3 hours for surfing, I headed to bed.

Urghhh. I was still drunk when I woke up. It was set to be the worst hangover I had ever experienced and couldn't see how I could possibly surf in this state. I walked to the surf shop and asked for it to be postponed, but no luck! Shit. I boarded the back of this guys moped, he attached my surfboard and we headed to the beach.

Ewan greeted me and plied me with coffee. Normally coffee does something to make me feel better, but today there was no liquid nourishment to be had. We walked down to the shores edge and laid down the surf board. What was to follow bears no repeating...

I was awful! I could barely support my own weight, heavy from the amount of alcohol still in my system. I tried to copy what Ewan did but every time I failed. He was calm and patient and I still have no idea how! I complained the whole time and was almost in tears at one point. I don't think he realised I was hungover and I don't think I realised I probably had alcohol poisoning. For four hours I tried to perfect my surfing, and for four hours I failed. When Ewan finally entrusted me to enter the water, I managed to just face plant on every attempt of catching a wave. I think there may have been one occassion when I managed to stand for a few seconds, but I don't think it constitutes surfing. I really, really, really don't advice drinking the night before you go surfing.

Still feeling like poo, I went and ordered myself a bowl of pasta... maybe that will make me feel better. No. Ok, I'll try coffee. No. Sleeping?

All the methods I usually rely on when hungover failed. I felt dazed and confused, I could feel the acid in my stomach burning and my whole body was like a dead weight. I had arranged to meet Suha in the evening for a drink, but I couldn't stomach it. All I had to do was hold on for a few more hours, then I could go to sleep and wake up better the next day!

I decided to check my emails to find my Mum had sent me an urgent message to ring her. When I finally got hold of her, I knew something was wrong. She made me turrn on the webcam so she could see me.

You OK Mum?
No.
What's happened?
I knew what was coming.
Your Nan passed away last night.
Pause.
Oh, Mum. I'm so sorry.

We had a very emotional talk and I left feeling helpless. I wanted to be at my Mums side to tell everything was alright. I wanted to hug her and tell her how much I love her. I wanted to mourn for my Nan but feel there was no privacy in this hell hole. I headed to bed.

With my hangover still lingering, I decided to do something with my last day! I headed to the beach to sunbathe. I sunbathed all morning and then swiftly made my way to the bus stop. I hoped on and drifted off to sleep shortly after. About an hour after leaving, I was safely back home. I was so glad to be home!

Meet the new people in my life x

Arriving on a Thursday meant that it was but one day of work before the weekend. Bonus! Arriving in the afternoon, I met one of the interns, Suha, from Turkey. He was the only one at Tri Hita Karana and went out of his way to accommodate me. He gave me the low-down on daily life and then dropped me in town to explore. I ended up getting horrendously lost as my spatial awareness skills were playing up, taking me almost two hours to navigate back. 

The town of Ubud is beautiful and is considered the cultural heart of Bali. Traditional dances are still performed on a nightly basis and festivals are celebrated with fervor. Yet, my first experience was somewhat tainted by the number of westerners and amount of superfluous convenience. Warungs (small, family owned restaurants, normally outdoors) still remain, but most have been modified, catering for those with bigger wallets. Yoga shops intersperse health food restaurants and alternative therapy stores and the compounds of residents lay hidden behind the facades. Pockets of the Ubud of  yesteryear still remain but they can only be found on close inspection. 

I returned to THK all hot and flustered. Justin, the intern coordinator I had been liasing with, was there to greet me. An Aussie with attitude, his demeanour took some getting used to. He was brash and rude and I felt slightly awkward round him. He questioned why I choose to volunteer on a permaculture project and was rather interrogating. Left feeling slightly uneased, he headed to bed. Was this the right decision to come here? Was it going to be a repeat of South Africa?

I stared into the dark night, stars in abundance, shining brighter than those in the West. I sat contemplating, listening to the symphony of crickets on the ground, insects in the trees and toads in the paddies. I felt safe and settled if not a little apprehensive. Heading to bed, I was unaware of the events that were to unfold. The emotional turmoil and battle of self discovery; the loss of a loved one; the gain of some best friends and the inspiring words from each of them. Bali had opened its arms to me and I was prepared to be embraced. Drifitng off to sleep, I was yet to discover that Justin, the rude and crude Australian, was set to become a big influence on my life. I slept well that night.

***

I woke at 7.30am the next day, got ready, and set to work at 9am. Gyan, an Aussie, and Lindsey, from Montana, US, were there to greet me. Both are great characters with even greater stories to tell.

Gyan spent the past few years of his life living in NZ but after meeting a beautiful American named Rachel, at a festival in NZ, he decided to move to Bali to spend more time with her and her son. Rachel has an Indonesian father and American mother. She owns Soma, a restaurant specialising in raw food, and is a Permaculture practioner. Gyan has the same passions in life and is a great influence on her son. They are both full-on hippies, but I love that about them. Kind-hearted, fun-loving, beautiful people.

Lindsey has spent the past 6 years as a self-confessed 'office monkey'. Doing agriculture statistics for the government, she was fed up of the 9-5. Not many Americans have the freedom to travel, unlike Europe. They are allowed very little time off and, when they get it, most people choose to just stay within their jurisdiction. I heard that 50% of Americans don't even have a passport, although most Americans I have spoken to say it is more like 75%. Bearing this in mind, Lindsey quit her job, sold her car, put her house up for rent and came half the way round the world. Bali is her first destination, but plans to travel for at least a year. Friends and family frowned upon the idea, but she has made it a reality. Although she is still getting over the initial shock of being an independent traveller, she has done well to settle in. She is fun to be a round and I warmed to her instantly. She is inquisitive and like me, looking to find out who she really is.

Shortly after their arrival, Steve turned up. I didn't know much about Steve to be honest. Going through a middle man (Global Nomadic) meant that I never really felt the need to do my research. I thought I worked for Chakra of THK and that was it. Steve, however, is the man in charge. My mentor and my trainer.

 Steve is another Aussie, but of a more passive nature. With a few more years under his belt, he is a slightly quieter, less vulgar, and more observant character than Justin. Steve was in the Army for 18 years, and has been to some of the most poverty-stricken and war-torn nations. After leaving, Steve joined the UN. He was an aid worker but shortly came to realise that money was not being well spent. The poor were still poor and aid was piling up. Using his initiative, he decided to quit and start up his own organisation, under the name of 'Green Warriors'. This man has seen it all, been to some of the darkest places on earth and yet he still keeps faith. Faith in humanity to make a change and promote sustainability. Faith in his interns to be the change they wish to see and faith in me, to follow in his footsteps and leave only footprints. ;)

Steve is an International Sustainability Consultant and Permaculture Design and Aid Specialist. He has been working on limited funds to make Bali a sustainable and self-sufficient island. Bali's Hindu culture is entrenched in Animism. They believe Gods exist within the hills, lay beneath the surface, whisper in the winds, watch from the skies and live within animals. Respecting each deity is key to acceptance into the afterlife and thus the Gods are revered. Yet the culture, as it catches up with the 21st century, is losing touch of its roots, and the Gods that lurk within. By promoting Permaculture, Steve is not only promoting sustainability, he is reconnecting a culture with its religious foundations.

(Please note that I am not going to talk much about working life.. this is a  travel blog. For more info on my work with Green Warriors, please checkout the Green Warrior Permaculture facebook page or website)

***

Suha invited me to Padang Bai for the weekend. Not having my own form of transport, and eager to explore, I said yes without hesitation. Leaving first thing Saturday, we headed an hour East to the beach resort. Padang Bai is the gateway to Lombok and the Gillies. It consists of a strip of beaches, sea-front restaurants and hotels and a few good bars. Checking in to our bungalow, we headed to Blue lagoon beach. I imagine crystal clear waters, the sea lapping the shore and people bathing beneath palm trees. The smell of the sea is calling me! We climb the insanely steep hill and descend toward the beach. Reality hits. The tide is in and so is all the rubbish. Flip flops and bottles lap the shore. The cove is deserted but the hawkers are still there in their hoards.

Massage?
You must be joking.
Later?
Seriously?

We leave the beach thoroughly dissapointed. Luckily Suha knows of another beach. Maybe more luck this time? We head a few minutes south of blue lagoon (a deceptive name if you ask me!). After an even steeper climb, we slip and slide down to the beach on the other side. The tide is high, but sand is visible. Finally!! I chuck my stuff on the floor, lay down my towel, strip down to my bikini and face-plant, most ungracefully, burying my head in my towel. Finally, I can relax. I lay under a palm canopy, protecting me from the midday heat. Within minutes I'm asleep. Sheer exhaustion finally takes over, and I succumb to it gladly!

Waking, several hours later, me and Suha headed out to a Reggae bar for drinks and live music. The music was great and beer cold.  We met a really nice couple, recounted tales of travelling and nodded along to the music. Bob Marley and Manu Chao were just a few of the artists covered.... I went to bed feeling relaxed, if not a little tipsy.

Arriving back late Sunday, we headed straight to Steve's house. Steve, Justin and Lindsey were there all ready. We all sat on the porch, overlooking the garden adorned with fairy lights. The sounds from the surrounding paddies provided a great backdrop and the company was great. Shortly before 11pm, Rebecca showed up. I had spoke to Rebecca briefly before I came to Bali, and knew all about her work. She is the creator and executive director of  The Paradigm Shift Project: a Canadian NGO 'changing the way we see and support the developing world through documentary media'. I was inspired by her work and am now inspired by her. She is gentile yet passionate, a great cook and up for adventure. I can't wait to recount my experiences I've shared with her!

Till next time x

Bali beginnings

The view from the airplane as it came into land was magical. The clouds all but covered Bali, yet small peaks from its many mountains could be seen emerging and the odd break in the blanket revealed pockets of the brightest green. The suns rays penetrated the cabin, filling it with warmth and light as the plane pierced through the clouds to reveal a landscape enshrouded in forest, scattered with rice paddies and dotted with crystal-clear pools of water. I had arrived at my new home!

I arrived at 11.30am to a slight breeze and intense heat, yet, unlike the mainland, the island of Bali experiences very little humidity. I was not drenched in sweat like I had been for the past month, and was not as apprehensive as I had been elsewhere. I felt a sense of calm and a desire to start work. Working two jobs for the past 9 months and having very little social life had all been worth it!

Leaving the capital of Denpasar, I caught a taxi to the town of Ubud, where I was to reside for the next 2 months. The island retains an old-world charm with narrow roads dispersed with palms and beautiful Indonesian architecture. People are seen cycling past, or walking along the sides of the road. Mopeds wizz by. One, two, three, and even four people perch on the seat of the bike, some carrying livestock, others carrying produce. Some in traditional dress heading to ceremonies, some in casual 'western' clothing heading to and from work. Everything is new and exciting. Kites are flying high in the sky. Offerings are placed all over the ground. The Hindu culture is so entrenched in this nation that it proves to be almost overwhelming. The spirit of the Island seeps into the pores and radiates in your smile. I am glad to be home.

Bitter-sweet end to my month on the mainland

My last night in Kanchanaburi was a great end to my trip. I went out with everyone from the Jolly Frog and ended up back our trusty bar, playing Jenga and rounds of pool. I know how to play the game and I sometimes surprise myself at how good I am, although it was tonight was not the case. After failing miserably I went on to recover some dignity by being a master at Jenga. Leaving at closing time, we walked back towards the hostel. Across the road, in the dark of the night, we were summoned by a group of locals sat on plastic stools. We decided to check it out. The owner of the Sugar Lounge, appropriately named Sugar, was sat on the roadside with her staff, three of which were international: two American girls and one British. 6 local guys sat either side and a guy with an eye-patch sat next to Sugar. The one-eyed man was in fact the owner of the Jolly Frog and was a great character. Everyone spoke really good English even though they were all half-cut. Sugar opened up her bar and brought us all shots and beer. We proceeded to drink the bar dry, playing drinking games till 5am. Characters kept appearing from the nearby bars, including a blurry eyed Rasta. He was on hippy crack and was pretty incomprehensible, making for some interesting viewing. We all stumbled back as dawn was breaking. A well deserved sleep lay ahead.

I surfaced just before noon and made my way to the garden where everyone else was hanging out beneath the palm trees. We all made our goodbyes and I headed on out. I took an hour long bus drive to a nearby town and managed to catch the last minibus to Ayutthaya. Arriving in the evening I checked into a guest house called Nick's place. Realising I had run out of cash, I went to the cash point to withdraw some money. To my horror, my card had disappeared! Where could it have gone? Did I leave it in Kanchanaburi? Had it been stolen? I ran back to the guest house and they went out of their way to help me. They phoned the Jolly Frog first thing, but the card was nowhere to be seen. I brought another card with me, but it was back in Bangkok!! I panicked and became withdrawn and anxious. My flight was in 24 hours!

Will came to my rescue! I managed to borrow some baht to use the internet and managed to Skype him. It has always been difficult for us to coordinate times to speak, but he happened to be on the exact same time I was. Thank God. I asked him what to do, and he said he would transfer some money to Western Union. I was there the next day when the bank opened and rushed to the counter to collect my money. It was such a relief, but the whole ordeal had dampened my spirits. I no longer wanted to explore the former kingdom of Siam and its many temples so back I went, onto another minibus and back to Bangkok.

I had been travelling non-stop for 31 days. I had been in 4 countries, stayed in over 15 hostels, been to over 30 destinations and used almost every mode of transport to get there. I had hiked up mountains, traversed through wilderness, visited close to 100 temples and met over 100 new and exciting people. I walked, ran, cycled, jogged, fell, got up, scrambled, clambered and hiked. I learnt how to wake board, kayaked, swam and white water rafted. I was bitten, bruised, blistered and achy. I had been living on very little sleep and drank copious amounts of coffee. I had thrown up, passed out and had recurring travelers diarrhea. And you know what, it was worth every second! I ate great food, experienced some of the worlds wonders of nature and met people have inspired and transformed me. I am grateful to everyone and everything I encountered on my journey, good and bad!

Leaving was bitter-sweet, but I managed to 'pass the torch' as I left the mainland behind. I met Larkin in the airport. An American from Georgia, he was just starting his journey. I recounted my tails and ripped out my section on Thailand from the lonely planet to give to him. He bought me a beer. He made my 6 hour wait for check in seem like mere minutes. I know you have probably returned home now Larkin, but I hope Thailand was everything you had wished for.

Kanchanaburi: peace returns

All that cycling had made me thirsty and only a stiff drink was suitable after the sights I had encountered. Heading to the Jolly Frog, a guest house set back from the main road, overlooking the river Kwai, I met a couple called Jess and Josh. We proceeded to drink Sam Song whiskey and soda and talk about our travel experiences. After finishing the bottle, we decided to move on and headed to the only lively bar in town - the place where I ate my lunch. We order more whiskey and played some Jenga. Before long, there were 8 of us at the table. Everyone was staying at the Jolly Frog and raved about how good it was. I decided that was where I should relocate to! After polishing of another bottle of whiskey, I decided to call it a night as I did, after all, have to get up at 8am!

My journey home was horrendous. I almost got mauled by a bunch of barking dogs, potentially sending me flying of my bike, and returned to find my bungalow infested with bugs! The bed was crawling with tiny black insects and I had no idea why they where there or where they had come from. I resorted to using my towel to beat the crap out of them, trying to sweep them onto the floor. I was in a drunken haze and being far to over-dramatic, prancing about like a girl (yes, I am aware the fact that I am indeed female). Once I could see no more of the critters, I lathered myself in tiger balm, as I had no bug spray, climbed in my silk condom (sleeping bag liner for those in the know) and laid in the middle of my bed. Stiff as a plank, I started to burn from the heat of the tiger balm. Like deep heat, it is supposed to sooth sore skin and aching muscles, neither of which I was suffering from. My eyes began to well as I breathed in the intense smell radiating from my body and seeping from my pores. It made for one sleepless night

I was packed and ready first thing. Knowing that there were still insects lurking in the woodwork I wasted no time in leaving my cabin... it had all but lost its charm. The bus arrived and me and the girls climbed on - they had booked the same tour. An hour later, we arrived at the Erawan (7-steps) waterfall. It is hidden within the 500sq. km Erawan NP and, to date, has been the most beautiful sight I have encountered on my travels. The falls has been carved out of yellow limestone, making the water crystal clear. A subdued turquoise, the water shimmers and swirls as it gentle cascades down the slopes.  Starting at an elevation of 1500m, the falls meandered its way down through dense forest to met the Kwai Yai River. The trek to each level is more of a scramble than a climb, a sort of assault course that requires good footwear. My sandals managed to make the journey, but it is certainly inadvisable. Climbing over tangled tree roots, fallen branches and, precariously placed boulders, you duck and dive through the undergrowth, trying hard not to lose your footing. Each level had a steeper incline and more obstacles, but each level was more magical than the last.

Upon entering the park you have to pay a deposit of 50 baht for each bottle you take in. It is a great system as it means rubbish is kept to a minimal and preserves the parks natural beauty. However, it is also in place  as to prevent any unwanted guests. Wild monkeys reside in the park and are not afraid of wandering tourists. We first spotted a monkey when we were at the third step. Hearing a rustle in the trees, me and the girls pointed our cameras skywards. A few moments later, the monkey clambered down and scurried past us. It kindly posed for some picture but lost its temper soon after: we decided it was a good time to leave.

We had around 4 hours in the park and needed every second. It meant that we could climb at a leisurely pace, and allowed us to take a dip at a few of the tiers. All the pools have small fish that nip at you when you are stationery. Unpleasant at first, it soon becomes rather therapeutic. All through SEA, there are vendors offering fish spas. It is basically a tank full of these fish, but instead of free flowing water, it is a thick, murky aqueous solution of dead skin. I never saw the appeal, but having a free one at the waterfalls was definitely a highlight.

Finally making it to the top after almost two hours of treachery, we were greeted by a billowing roar. The final tier was the most spectacular; a 70 foot waterfall crashed against the rocks below carving out a deep but modestly sized pool. Inviting and deservedly so! We all slid from the limestone into the pool and eased are aching muscles. Shrubs predominated the banks allowing us to stare up at the clear sky, the colour resembling that of the falls. Basking in the sun, we breathed in the clear air; filling our lungs with the smell of sweet-perfumed flowers and freshly fallen rain. Birds could be heard whispering in the trees, whilst monkeys scrambled through the branches, snapping them as they went. The climb was all worth it! 


Our next stop was the death railway bridge, so-called as so many POWs lost their lives whilst building it. The tracks of the bridge hug the hillside and tower over the river Kwai. Steel posts interlink to form the main structure, whilst wooden beams form the tracks. We walk along part of the track to a small cave and shrine, created to honour all those that lost their lives. A monk sits chanting. I sit down behind him and pay respect to all those enslaved. I am the only one to do so.

We walked back to the platform and await the arrival of the train. Only a small part of the thai-burma railway remains in use. School children and farmers use it almost daily, but the tourist mob seem to outnumber the locals. The train ride is short but enjoyable and the scenery is great. We passed several villages, rolling hills and fields full of flowers. The sun was sinking in the sky and the warming glow created the perfect backdrop to the unfolding landscape. 

On the way back to town, we made our last stop at the bridge over Kwai. Architecturally beautiful, it pained me to think of the lives lost in its construction. I stared from the bridge and into the distant. The sun was setting. The Kwai was glistening, basking in the remaining rays of light. It had been a perfect day and one I will never forget.

Kanchanaburi a peaceful town that was once hell on earth (day 1)

12 hours spent carting my bags on and of buses, numerous security checks and a hellish walk from the Cambodian-Thai border, my feet finally touched down in Bangkok. Feeling more confident this time round, I had a much better nights sleep in this metropolis. I stayed in Green House, on the road parallel to Koh San. It was a far more chilled atmosphere and the free music made my day. A sound nights sleep.
Another bus, another trip. This time I just took my small backpack and left my big one at my hostel. I only planned to be gone for four days so brought just the essentials.

One place that I had been recommended to visit on numerous occasions, was the small, unassuming town of Kanchanaburi. Just a few hours outside of Bangkok, it is central Thailand’s equivalent to Chiang Mai. The river Kwai provides the water source for the lush vegetation shrouding this quite town. Fields of flowers and rolling hills gently caress the banks to the west of the city whilst the north lays in shadow of its mountainous ridge. It lies in the valley of this varied topography, creating a cool retreat that is far-removed from its intoxicating neighbour.

I was immediately taken aback by the views and my quaint little bungalow perched on the banks of the river Kwai made it that much more special. I had to go explore! Dumping most of the contents of my bag, I grabbed a map, hired a bike and head for the centre of town. The distance was longer than anticipated so contemplated relocating the following day... but I would think about that later. I had a wicked tofu curry cooked by this crazy lesbian woman who kept calling me hot. I found it highly amusing and rolled with it. She gave me some great advise on places to visit and drew a route for me on my map. Thanking her, I set off. Cycling for an hour, in the midday heat, was quite a challenge. There was a lot of steep hills and windy roads but it was made all worthwhile when I reached Wat with a name so complex I don't remember its name. It seemed almost like a graveyard for Buddhist statues no longer in use. There was a plethora of different sizes and shapes, some carved from stones, others made from more synthetic materials. All were elaborate and all were beautiful. There were several pagodas placed on an artificial pond, all connected by bamboo walkways. A few women were sat chatting and a few monks could be seen wondering around the premises contemplating life. I was the only tourist and I loved it. I wondered around and kept discovering statues hidden amongst trees or behind others. Just before leaving, a strange sound beckoned me. I walked over to find peacocks, deer and a toucan all in cages. They looked well looked after although the cages were definitely too small. I spent some time there talking to the deer... yes, this is totally normal! 

Cycling back to town, I passed another temple set atop a hill. Unfortunately it was shut as it was a Sunday but it was a nice walk nonetheless. Stopping on the way back to take photos, I thoroughly enjoyed the break from the city. The air is cleaner, the humidity is virtually unnoticeable and the varied landscape is something I was craving. I am definitely a country girl at heart. 

Shortly past the temple was the Chungkai War Memorial, commemorating all those who lost their lives as POWs (prisoners of war). My great great uncle was one of them! I paid my respects, slowly pacing up and down the endless rows of headstones. It was chilling and emotional.

Several hours after leaving, I made it back to town. Thoroughly exhausted and sweating profusely, I somehow decided to go visit the museum. The Thai-Burma railway museum was opened only a few years ago as it has taken so long to gather information about the brutal and painstaking construction of the train line. 

The railway was built during the height of Japans power. They were attacking the pacific left, right and center and now attempting to conquer China. Their conquest was relentless. 

The Straight of Malacca and the Andaman Sea, originally used to transport troops and equipment to Burma (invaded by Japan not long before)  was becoming too risky. So, with an aim of taking hold of India, Japan began building the Thai-Burma railway at the height of the second world war. The British empire had plans to build this railway years before the war but halted further development as it was considered to risky. The mountainous regions west of Kanchanaburi were considered impenetrable. Nonetheless, Japan's corruption and madness took none of this into consideration. Utilising POWs captured from the pacific, they were set to work on the railway. Working 18 hour days, seven days a week, with little food and unsanitary conditions, the situation was worse than hell. Many contracted malaria or cholera and malnutrition was commonplace. The museum has many photos that were captured at the time and they make for upsetting viewing. Two skeletal men stand outside an infirmary. They are weak and broken. The doctors consider them fit for work! A statue is placed in the centre of the lower gallery. Two men with malaria carry a man with cholera. The men are limp and tired. The man they are holding has his trousers by his ankles. They died shortly after. 

It is a truly harrowing experience, costing thousands of lives (over 100,000) and endless bloodshed. It took just one year two complete and almost two to destroy. At the end of world war II, in 1945, the bridge over the river Kwai was succesfully bombed.

Considered fit to work!

Siam Reap: Where to begin?

Leaving at 9am, it was just a few short hours until I crossed the border into Cambodia. It is still a strange experience, just hoping from one border to the next. The people, the landscape and the general vibe you experience seems to slowly change as you head into the heart of a new country. Traditions and ways of life are on display, for all to see, visible from the window of your ac-bus. Yet it is not till you step off, and make your way to your destination, that you begin to feel the welcoming embrace of the locals. Unfortunately, most stops on the bus line tend to be tourist hubs in bustling cities, full of congestion, noise and towering buildings. Phnom Penh definitely fits the brief. The fumes fill your lungs and the noise is almost deafening. Just like Ho Chi Minh, it takes a lot to get used to and can be hard to love. I was told not to stay long but it was due to time constraints, not advice, that stopped me from staying in the capital of Cambodia. It was simply a stop-gap for me on my way to Siam Reap.
While waiting for the bus, I got chatting to two girls heading in the same direction: Aafke, from Holland; and Skye, from San Francisco. Both were traveling solo but knew each other from a previous trip. Agogo, a local Cambodian Tuk-Tuk driver dating Aafke, was also there and after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the girls, Agogo and I boarded the bus.
The trip door-to-door from HCM to Siam Reap took 15 hours. It was a long day! We checked into Siam Reap Rooms and headed to bed... off to the temples in the morning!
The temples of Siam Reap, are expansive, extensive and complex. There are over 100 temples scattered amongst an area greater than 400 square kilometers. However, the ones still fairly well preserved are accessible within about a 20km radius. Ideally you need three days to make the most of what is on offer but we ambitiously attempted it in 2! Starting on the first day, we set out about midday to do the 'grand tour'. Leaving at the hottest point of the day was a bad move but the breeze created from our little tuk-tuk provided some comfort. Our driver, Mr. Mean, was in fact the nicest driver I have encountered. He was recommended by our guesthouse and I would advise all future travellers to look him up.

The Khmer temples were built during Angkor period (between the 9th - 13th century). Jayavarman II, the ruling king, wanted to build his capital 'angkor' (city) here. Taking so long to complete, it has become a collection of cities, each dedicated to a different king. Thus, all temples are unique and each represents a different deity and purpose. Although some were all-encompassing others paid homage to only one religion.

Day 1
We started in Wat Bayon, the last temple to be built during Khmer rule by the buddhist king Jayavarman VII in his capital of Angkor Thom. It was later altered by Hindu kings so both buddhist and hindu relics are seen throughout. Stone faces predominate and are scattered around the many-layered temple. Bas-reliefs representing mythical scenes and historic battles are also visible; another feature universal to the temples of Siam Reap.

Baphuon was next. Originally constructed to worship the Hindu god Shiva, it was later changed to honour Buddha in the 15th century. The whole temple and surrounding raised pathways were all built on sand, so many of the foundations have given way and crumbled. The main complex was closed when we were there, but the surrounding forests and grand walkways make it a worthwhile visit. Similarly, Prasat suor prat, a collection of 12 identical temples, is worth a look due to its peaceful setting with adjoining lake.
We made our way back to Mr. Mean and all piled back into the tuk-tuk. Banteay Kdei was next on the agenda. A Buddhist 'citadel of chanbers', it was a beautifully ornate temple, with trees strangling the structures and constricting the foundations they have kept it well preserved.
Neak Pean was next on our stop, with an impressively long gangway leading to its entrance. It is best visited in the rainy season when the moated exterior and flooded interior spring to life. Unfortunately it was fairly dry on our visit, although the heavens soon opened and the internal lake began to fill. We were soaked through by the time we returned but decided to carry on regardless.
Pre Rup was the last temple. It is supposed to have great views for sunset due to its height and location; overlooking the beautiful forests and temples around angkor. The sunset never materialised, as it was hidden by storm clouds, but the pounding rain was a great alternative. It poured and poured, soaking us to the core. It made for a treacherous climb to the summit, but was well worth it. Local children danced in the rain and we all left with smiles on our faces.
It was about 7pm when we finally returned. Me and sky went out for dinner and a few drinks. I had my first taste of amok, an amazing local specialty of veg, lemon grass and spices in a creamy curry. Yum!

Day 2
Sunrise at Angkor. It was a pretty pathetic sunrise as it was overcast and half of the temple was under construction, but the sheer size is a beauty to behold. Angkor wat is dedicated to the Hindu god Vishnu, the preserver, and to his human embodiment in Suryavarman II, who was considered a god-king. Arriving around half 5, we spent several hours walking around the intricate palace.
We drove about half an hour out of the main temple complex to visit Banteay Srey. The 'Citadel of women' was a Buddhist temple built in the 10th century. It was markedly different to many of the other temples we saw, with its red bricks and small stature. The nearby museum was great to visit as it was somewhat of a struggle for us to figure out the purpose of many of the temples. The informative displays filled in the gaps and made us appreciate the magnitude of the undertaking.
Beng Mealea, a temple almost in disrepair, has been taken over by forest. What remains are dark and menacing corridors and beautiful courtyards. It is tricky trying to navigate yourself round the ruin but it is a serene, if not slightly foreboding, place to visit.
My favourite temple, Ta Phrom, is one of the better know temples as it was the film set for Tomb raider. It is essentially in ruins, but the roots of trees that entwine the temple are holding up the remnants. It is beautifully ornate and a maze to navigate. Highly recommended!
Prasat Kravan, built in the 10th century, is dedicated to Vishnu. Another red-brick structure it was another favourite. The smallest of all the temples we saw, it is intricate yet understated. It proves that grandure and factitious detail somewhat take away from the true essence of a temple; to honour the deity that lies at the core of religion.
Almost 13 hours after leaving our hostel, we finally returned. Not wanting to miss out on my final night in Siam Reap, I headed out with Sky, Aafke and Agogo. Amok was on the menu and I happily tucked into another tasty bowl. Beers were drank, shots were had and dancing was done. A great end to my few short days in Cambodia.

It must be noted that I did visit a few other temples. However, my memory escapes me. Either way, the memories and mental images will always stay prominent in my thoughts!

Ho Chi Minh City

Another cramped night on a bus with little sleep; I was glad to finally arrive in Ho Chi Minh. Unfortunately are arrival was at 6.30am so all hostel were still in a slumber. As I couldn't deal with the torture that would be inflicted by my backpack, I decided to give up and check into a hotel. Soon after checking in, I booked myself onto a trip to the Cu Chi tunnels and left at 8am.
Somehow managing to summon up some energy, I started chatting with some people on my bus. After an hours drive, we arrived at the eerie sight, set amongst plantation forests, near the border of  Cambodia. The area was frequently targeted during the Vietnam war, so in order to protect the people, the community and Viet Cong (a south vietnamese political army) built a complex system of tunnels as well as weaponry and traps.  The tunnels were equipped to house all of the villagers and even had living quarters and access to water. However, disease was rife and many lost their lives to malaria. (Despite this, one woman apparently managed to spend 27 years down in the tunnels). Some tunnels are still open to the public, and we all had the chance to crawl through a 40m stretch of one of them. Cramped can't even begin to describe how I felt. I know the Vietnamese are short in stature but it must have been a struggle, especially when you are living with hundreds of others. My knees couldn't support my weight so I had to literally crawl, making the journey somewhat longer. It was also surprisingly warm down there, and it wasn't even the hottest part of the day. It is horrible to imagine what existence must have been like for those involved in the war. An introductory video even highlighted how young girls were shooting riffles. However, the severe bias towards all Americans was a bit overplayed. People were awarded medals for being 'American killers' and there was an over-emphasis on the 'American imperialists' (although I can agree with them on that one).
Returning back to HCM, feeling quite affected, me and Mark, another American I met, stupidly decided to follow our experience by a trip to the War Remnants Museum. It is definitely worth a trip, but not straight after the tunnels.
The museum comprised several sections. An outside gallery housing military vehicles and a display showing you the POW camp on Phu Quoc Island; a gallery in the entrance displaying all the posters and protests of support Vietnam from countries around the world; a room displaying images of the victims of agent orange; a section commemorating all the photographers who lost their lives and a display of their finest work; and, a few others of a similar description. Each room evoked different emotions, whether it be compassion, joy, horror or sympathy. It was beautifully executed and although very anti-American, it was totally justified. The brutality  and bloodshed cost thousands of lives and is still affecting people today, whether it be due to the loss of a loved one, or the defects that has become commonplace amongst offspring of former soldiers due to the use of US defoliants.
We must have spent about 2 hours in the War Remnants Museum. It took a lot out of us and our walk home was fairly quite. We needed a drink. A road up from where we were staying was a strip of local bars and cheap eats. We sat down on plastic chairs made for children and ordered to large Saigon beers. We got chatting to some locals and attracted many a hawker. I normally maintain patience with hawkers for a few minutes before I have to say 'No, I do not need that plastic Jesus, now go pray on someone else', but with Mark I managed to have a joke with the locals and thoroughly enjoyed the hassle. He has a very comical persona and managed to make light of all of it. For example, when a lady approached us with a tower of books, instead of staying 'No, I'm not interested', he'd respond with 'sorry love, I can't read'.
Laughing all the way back to my hotel, I got changed and went out to meet up with Mark and another couple we had met on our trip. We all did the very westerner thing and choose a buffet pizza dinner as supposed to some local Pho, and then headed for some drinks. Mark recommened a place he had seen earlier and with some hesitation me and the couple decided to trust his advice and follow. We were not dissapointed. He took us to a rodeo-style American bar that was full of locals and ladies dressed as cow girls. A few ex-pats lurked in the corner, buying the waitresses drinks and eyeing them up and down, but it was mainly for the unlikely rock crowd that inhabited HCM. What was more is that instead of some kind of cheesey country music, we were greeted with a Axl Rose impersonated with long hair, bandana and ripped jeans. For a minute a genuinely thought it was THE Axl Rose, but on closer inspection realised it was in fact a local. He was one part of a 7+ member band called The Bad, The Ugly and they were bloody fantastic. Nearly all took it in turn rocking out to a classic and they all had voices to match. Although we ended up paying a fortune for our drinks, the free entertainment was well worth it!
My 24 hours in Ho Chi Minh were far too short, but I loved every second.

 

Rush hour in HCMC

Nha Trang: time to get a move on

Nursing a sore head, I spent the next morning by the pool in my hotel before getting on my first ever night bus. A bizarre concept, but necessary in Vietnam as it is longer than the state of California and covers almost 1000miles of coastline. The night bus reminded me a lot like the one taken in Harry Potter, and the drivers are just as bad. With their hand firmly pressed on the horn, they weave in and out of the traffic at great speed determined to keep us awake. It is, however, a good chance to meet people, as you can all whinge about the cramped beds and crappy driver. Eventually drifiting off I awoke as we entered the city of Nha Trang.

It is a beach resort considered to have one of the best strips of coastline in the whole of Vietnam. It is overpriced and a lot of the natural beauty has been concealed by the towering guest houses and resort complexes. However, like everywhere I have visited, if you delve deeper, there is a great deal to find.

All the people I met in Hoi An recommended I stay in the Backpackers House so I headed down the road at 7am until I found it, set back from the main strip of bars. Paying $7 for my dorm room, I checked in and stored my belongings before heading out again.

Set on the beach just a short walk from my guesthouse is the Louisiane brewery. It is a very fancy bar/restaurant with a pool and loungers. I hired one for the day, chilled by the pool and read my book. Finally having time to relax, my mind started to reflect on the last few weeks. I had managed to achieve so much. Although tiring, it was very rewarding and finally I could take the weight of my feet. Well, so I thought. It suddenly dawned on me that I only had 12 days left to do the rest of Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand...Crap! A rethink to my plans was required. Digging through my bag to find my Lonely Plan, I started to realise that I needed to get a move on if I wanted to see everything I had planned on seeing. After scribbling down a brief itinerary, I hired a bike and headed out of town to visit the Po Nagar Cham Towers and Pagoda.

The towers were built in the Champa era, when Cambodia controlled southern Vietnam. The towers are Hindu temples perched on top of a hill, providing great views of the fishing villages and Cai river below. The view is certainly worth the small entrance fee and the air-con museum is a bonus. The towers themselves are quite demur but charming.  They each represent a different deity although the predominant theme is that of fertility. Lingas, a phallic symbol for the worship of Shiva, are visible both inside and out of the towers. At one point there was a Linga made of precious metal, housed in the tallest tower of 28m, but apparently pirates ran off with it. Each tower is intricately carved on the exterior with a plain vaulted interior, smelling heavily of incense.

I spent a good hour wondering around the sight but the intense heat was getting a bit much. I decided to cycle back into town to visit the Pagoda, but got horrendously lost. Unfortunately my internal compass and spatial awareness skills have somewhat deteriorated since traveling. I somehow ended in a village, far away from Nha Trang and had to back track for about half an hour until I finally got my bearings. The blazing heat combined with the lack of water put a real strain on my general functioning and it proved to be a real struggle trying to navigate my way back. Somehow I managed to make it, purchased a massive bottle of water and consumed it within a matter of seconds. Finally feeling human, I somehow decided to put my body through more pain by cycling uphill towards the Pagoda.

The Long Son Pagoda is a Buddhist temple built in the 19th century. It is of fairly modest design, with the entrance and roofs adorned with mosaic dragons constructed of glass and ceramic tile. However, if you look skywards, you are taken aback by the monstrous white Buddha, sitting atop of a mountain. One is compelled to climb the steps to take a look but one should be forewarned, it is bloody steep! Again, admist the midday heat, I endured the pain I was self-inflicting on my burnt and tired body to reach the summit. And boy was it worth it. Half way up I was greeted by a reclining Buddha hidden from the view below due to a modest garden bed and only accessible through a little metal gate set away from the main path. It expanded some 25 feet and was beautifully restored and maintained (during the Vietnam war, a lot of the Pagoda and Buddhas had incurred severe structural damage). Ascending a dozen or so more steps, I was greeted by a monk sitting beneath a rather large gong, which was struck every few minutes. I am not quite sure of the symbolism, but the noise that reverberated was peacefully dispersed and left me feeling rather reflective. Finally reaching the top, the gleaming white Buddha towered down from above. A further 30+ steps had to be climbed to see it close up but the heat was too much for me by this point and I admitted defeat. The view from where I stood was sufficient enough. The statue is 24m high and represents Gautama himself. Sat atop of a lotus flower and surrounded by Arhats (a buddhist practitioner who has realized a certain stage of attainment), the deity is the true founder of Buddhism.

Finally returning to my hostel, 5 hours after I had left, I decided to book myself on another overnight bus to Ho Chi Minh. I really wanted to stay but knew I would only get drunk and awake with a hangover yet again. Unfortunately I discovered that all the people I had met in Hoi An were staying in the same room as me. I also met two really nice Aussies who took me out for a drink before I caught the night bus. Working on such a tight time frame is not advisable!

Hoi An, a hidden gem

Not long after returning to Hanoi, I hopped on an overnight train with Mark heading for Hoi An. The place is renowned for its tailoring and virtually every shop has the facilities to fashion you that top you'd always longed for, those shoes that you just had to have, or that bikini that got away. When I arrived I was slightly overwhelmed by this central focus, and underwhelmed by the cultural aspect.

On closer inspection, I uncovered a french inspired town on the banks of the Thu Bon. I struggled to find lodgings initially as most were over-priced or well hidden. After sweating it out with my backpack on, I decided to ask two girls sitting in cafe if they recommended anywhere. Pointing to the hotel just 5 doors down, I checked into my more-than-satisfactory room with added benefit of a TV. After catching my breath, I headed back to meet up with the girls and explored the town.

I headed to bed early as I had a 4.45am start the next day. Settling in at 9pm, I watched Harry Potter, loving every minute of it! I think it was a kind a home comfort, that I had been missing for the past 3 weeks. In the morning, I headed to My Son, an ancient Hindu ruin set in beautiful native jungle. We were the only group there and got to watch the sun rise from behind the site. Two German guys, Marco and Michael, mentioned there was good snorkeling to be found not too far from Hoi An on Cam Island. Taking there advice, I booked myself on a trip for the next day.

Another early start, I dragged myself out of bed and onto another mini-bus. Soon realising I was the only foreign tourist, I was wondering whether I should have ignored the Germans. My (personal) tour guide didn't speak the best English, but he was always smiling and very accommodating. He should me round the beautiful Island, before taking a boat to the snorkel sight. The water was teaming with jelly fish and unfortunately I didn't manage to see many fish, other than a few angel fish. Yet it was a pleasant swim nonetheless. The afternoon was spent on a deserted Island. With my headphones in, I slowly drifted off to sleep... fully exposed to the midday sun. I awoke feeling crisp. I had definitely burnt my formerly pasty skin. The effects weren't apparent immediately but that feeling, of tort and tingly skin, was growing by the minute. Trying to act like I was not a dumb tourist, I sat down with my Vietnamese tourists for a banquet of rice, vegetables and freshly caught fish. Not wanting to offend, and also not knowing the word for Vegan in Vietnamese, I quite easily managed to eat half a cam fish (about the size of a rat... I don't have many fish to compare with) and squid. Both were pleasant but I can't say I've been converted. 

Returning back to the mainland, my tour guide presented me with a gift; a small red lantern, typical of Vietnam. He wished me good luck, happiness and safe travels and then escorted me back to the minibus. Two long days and early nights had taken there toll, but I wanted to make the most of my last evening in Hoi An. I arranged to meet up with Mark and headed to the Before and Now bar. 

While I was waiting, I sat at the bar and introduced myself to two guys [whose names escape me], a British cameraman (currently working on Top Gear) who was on his honeymoon but decided to continue travelling once his wife returned home (Will, don't get any ideas!) and a Kiwi who was formerly an investment banker in the UK. With lots of disposable income, the guys were more than happy to ply me with drinks. Managing to get rather hammered, I tried to compose myself when Mark turned up with 4 of his mates from back home. We all had a few more drinks, and a lot more laughs, before calling it a night.

Ha Long Bay

After hearing about the potentially horrendous 30 hour bus journey from Laos to Hanoi, I decided to bypass my morals and book a flight. It took less than an hour and I managed to meet an American guy called Mark who was staying in the same hostel as me. We both shared a minibus and arrived in the center a short while later. Unfortunately the driver took us to the old Hanoi backpackers so we had to carry all our luggage through the bustling streets for 15 minutes till we arrived at the right place. It turned out to be a good thing as we had the chance to explore the city.


Mopeds are the main form of transport in Hanoi as the streets are narrow and it is cheaper to buy and run a moped. The roads were all flying the Vietnam flag and red banners were everywhere. The election of a new president was happening that week so the banners held some relevance towards it. Unfortunately I can't read Vietnamese so couldn't tell you what they said.

As soon as we checked in, me and Mark booked our Ha Long Bay trip and set out the next morning. There were about 26 people on our boat, predominantly British or American. Our tour leader was also a Brit and had just become a guide a few weeks previous. After some introductions, we set out from the bay. Now I don't remember much of what followed as there was a lot of drinking games involved, but I think I had a good night. Everyone seemed to think so the next day. Nursing a hangover, we set out for Castaway Island (the Island where the film was set).

For all those that don't know, Ha Long Bay (meaning 'Descending Dragon') is a UNESCO site in the South China Sea. It consists of thousands of Islands,  many of which are inaccesable due to dense jungle and sheer rock faces. According to UNESCO there are 1969 islands (coincidentally, also the year Ho Chi Minh died), but our local guide believed there to be closer to 3000. Covering over 1500Km, you have to travel maybe 4 hours by boat to reach the final islands. The peripheries are also home to floating villages who are solely dependent on the sea and never venture to the mainland. We didn't have the privilege to make it out that far but we were still able to see a few floating villages. Unfortunately, these are essentially superficial and the ladies there, nicknamed the 'buy something' people, try to sell you drinks and paraphernalia from their boats.

Just before we arrived at our island, we visited a cave contained within an island via kayak. It was set in a beautiful cove and deep within you could see stalactites and bats. From there we took the short journey to our private paradise. Basic amenities were nestled amongst the trees whilst our beach overlooked the surrounding islands. It was surene and surreal. We all settled in and played Volleyball, Cricket and ball games in the water. In groups, we all went out on the water to have a go at wake-boarding. It was loads of fun but I am not going to call myself a master just yet.

After, Mark, two girls and I decided to go kayaking for sunset. Paddling far from the island, we came across a secluded cove surrounded by forested islands on all sides. Mark and I ventured as far as we could until we reached the cliff face. The sun shortly set behind the islands and I managed to take a few shots on my waterproof camera. I hope they develop as it has it was the most beautiful sunset I have ever laid witness to.

After dinner more drinking games commenced and then it was into the sea we went. Many choose the naked option but I decided to stay in my bikini (a wise choice I may add. God knows what lurks in the sea at night). Swimming out into the darker depths, the water came alive in a sea of green. Ultraviolet plankton glimmered in the moonlight; like a scene from Avatar. I found this highly fascinating and spent a considerable amount of time transfixed on their iridescent beauty. A perfect end to a perfect day.

Laos: Vientane, Vang Vieng and Luang Prubang

I have realised that I am getting further behind with my updates so am just gonna have to give you a quick rundown of my time in Laos.

The 15 hour bus journey was uncomfortable and sweaty and I didn't manage to get to sleep. It was pouring with rain and the roads were full of potholes. However the people I met kept me amused. I arrived in Vientiene about 7am after passing through endless border controls. I was a bit dazed and confused when I arrived so I just took the advice of someone I met in Chang Mai and checked into the Youth Inn. The outside looked a bit shabby and the room basic, but I thought it would suffice for one night. On closer inspection though I realised that my sheets were dirty, there was a hole punched into my mdf walls, the fan for the room was nowhere to be seen and when I walked on the floor barefoot the varnish stuck to the soles of my feet. The shared bathroom left a lot to be desired so I decided to venture out and spent as little as possible there.

I walked into town and had a look round the national museum. It was really interesting, covering everything prehistoric and ancient times to modern day politcal struggles experienced around Laos and the Mekong. After almost two hours wondering round, I grabbed the number 14 to the Buddha Park. It is about an hour away from Vientiane but well worth a visit. It was the idea of an eccentric shamen/yogi who wanted to merge the dieties of Muslim and Buddhist faiths in a hommage to their sanctity. They are extremely impresses and the size of some of the stone statues is overwhelming. You can explore the park in about 30mins but I stayed longer so that I could sit by the Mekong and write in my Journal. As I was writing, a monk began to sing as he was swaying in his hammock right next to me. It was so relaxing and I felt a kind of inner-peace.

I spent the evening in a bar opposite my hostel. I met a few people and had some rather controversial conversations before I called it a day and headed to bed. I caught the bus to Vang Vieng at 10am with a couple who had been staying at my hostel. Gavin and Sinead, both from Ireland, had been travelling for a few months now and had plans to work in NZ for a year once they had finished SEA.

The following day we went tubing and met up with Gordon and Katrina. In 5 hours we had only managedto make it to 5 bars and I managed to cut my foot in the process. For those unaware, tubing involves hiring rubber ring an floating down 6km of the Mekong. The region is set in the river basin so it makes for a beautiful landscape of scarred mountains enlaced with tropical forests. The weather is humid and it rained, without fail, every day at 4pm. However, tubing isn't so straightforward. As it has become popular with backpackers, it has been made into an adult water park, with zip wires, slides and swings dotted along the river. Accompaning these are an inumerable amount of bars, all luring you in with some kind of drinks promotion. All constructed, very poorly, from timber, the bars and attractions are all fairly unsafe. Combined with alcohol, 4 people have died in VangVieng in the last month or so, often as the result of drowning. The idea of being able to meander down the river in a tube while drinking cocktails is alluring, but the result is often somewhat different.

My first night involved me getting hideously drunk and throwing up before dinner. My tablets also effect my drinking so this may have been part of the cause. The next day we decided to ditch the rings and instead swim and float. We made it a lot further down and it allowed us to walk through forest and paddy fields. We met a really good group of guys at one bar and we played drinking games with them for a few hours and went on the slide a few times. After dinner we all headed to Q bar and then called it a night. On my penultimate day, we all tried to make it down the entirety of the river so set of a 10am. By 5pm we still hadn't completed our mission so had to flog down a tuktuk for the last leg. VangVieng was great fun but unfortunately there is nothing to do in the day other than watched friends or family guy in one of the many restaurants.

7 hours after leaving Vang Vieng, I arrived in Luag Prubang. I was lucky to coinscide my arrival so that I would be able to meet up with some old uni friends. We swapped stories of our travels whilst drinking wine and playing cards.. just like the uni days. After a tip of from th girls, I went to visit the Kouangsi falls. Coincidentally, a few guys I had met in Vang Vieng were on my tour. We had a great day swiming beneath the waterfall and the scenery was something else. The water was crystal clear and a pale shade of turqoise. The setting was a nature reserve set about an hour outside Luang Prubang, A UNESCO world heritage site. In the evening I suggested we all head to Utopia, a bar that I had been to the night before. Set down an alley overlooking the Nham Khan river, it is a beautiful setting where everyone lounges on the floor, smokes shisha and drinks cocktails. There is a full size beach volleyball court and fairy lights and candles provide the lighting. After a meal and a lot of beer, we all played Jenga and then called it a night. It is true what they say about the simple things in life. Good company makes all the difference and up until this point, this was the best night of my trip so far.

xx