Often it's the little things that surprise you when you travel. The scenery, though beautiful, fades as does the
initial allure of temples, transport and even to some extent people. It's the everyday things that suddenly make you stop, pause, look around quizzically and check if anyone else has taken note. Today I was shocked by a banana. They're smaller here for a start. But peal it's layers away and take a bite and something's different. The taste is stronger. The texture, although be it banana-like, is thicker with more layers. The small seeds, that in England barely exist, have a small crunch which is not entirely unwelcome. The Thai's would say it was 'same same but different'. I'd say top banana. I tried it next with an orange. Since when I have come to the conclusion that oranges are the same world over. I don't make this point to prove I am consuming at least some of my five a day (although if you do read this mum take note). Instead it's to explain how travelling changes you. I'm not enrolled in a Buddhist cult, nor have I taken to playing the harmonica and telling people to 'take a chill pill, man'. I am currently wearing a headband and I did a short while ago have a beard, yes, but that's not the point. The only points that existed as far as my beard was concerned were those on the tips of my Daliesque moustache. The point is, after a while it is those little moments that make you ponder and smile that make all the difference. This leg of the journey starts with a boat (not of the banana kind, I've left those metaphors behind me - although they were side splitting). This boat was taking me down the Mekong from Chiang Khong to Luang Prebang and by the nature of it's name alone it was slow. The journey itself was two days of beautiful scenery with a stop over in the small village town of Pak Beng. It may be small, but for Laos the prices were big as they were astute enough to realise that with no where else we could go they could charge what they liked. For many, this boat ride was a chance to play cards, drink Laobeer and meet some new riverside buddies. I read a book on Buddhism; maybe there's still room for me in this cult thing. Consequently, I arrived in Luang Prabang feeling as fresh as Lenor. Yet, even if I wasn't this is a city that could make you feel more relaxed than a cat on valium. The city, named after the Prabang Buddha statue that resides in its Royal Palace, is seen to many as South Asia's untouched city. Monks intertwine with locals and travellers alike and so it retains that Laoation charm; yet, truthfully to say it's untouched would be an exaggeration. The reason travellers fall for this city is partly due to its architecture, as golden Temples interweave with French neoclassic architecture. The buildings are small and quaint as streets focus towards Phu Si Hill, which at sunset attracts more tourists than the Queen in a tutu. But equally, the combination of cheap street food and strong whisky containing whatever insect or reptile you can imagine makes it hard to leave - especially when a mix of comfy cushions, volleyball and giant Jenga awaits in the evenings at Utopia bar. Also a day trip to Kouangxi waterfall is bluer than a Charlie Sheen film. While there we climbed up the waterfall to the secret spot and did our Tarzan impression until our chests were sore. Looking for history (turns out it was behind me - it's always the way isn't it) I headed to Phonsavan and to the plain of Jars. In north-east Laos lye more than 90 fields full of large stones carved into jar shapes over 2,000 years ago. No one knows the true reason for them although speculation ranges from whisky storage to sites of cremation. After the first field the place became quite jarring, so by the third I was happy to leave (making sure all doors were left slightly open on the way out of course). However, most interesting on visiting here was learning of Laos history. In a country that has been bombed more times per capita than any other in the world, it is remarkable that it's people are so friendly and embrace tourists as happily as they do. This seemed increasingly remarkable when I arrived in my next destination - the raving, swimming, rope swinging village of Vang Vieng. Ibiza watch out, as this town of tubing mayhem is more excitable than an American in McDonalds. As I spent my birthday here, I'm glad to still be alive. Thank goodness for baguettes. Laos has everything I could ever want from a place. It has perfect scenery, amazing people, a chilled vibe, 14 million chocolate raisins, a waterfall of Grape Fanta, the cast of Cool Runnings... Okay, maybe not everything I ever could want from a place. It's nice though.
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A 26 hour Tuk-Tuk, boat, bus, train and van ride was all that separated Koh Tao from Thailands second city
Chiang Mai. We headed north to see off the drinking as our livers were becoming as weak a Liberal Democrat leader (oooh Satire). Instead we saw off our drinks and found ourselves entering a smart Thai Nightclub in nothing more than a t-shirt, shorts and (as a result of full moon party anticts) odd pairs of flip-flops. Although initially unsure about our presence in the seemingly Thai only nightclub, the locals soon changed attitude and they were shooting glasses of Johnny Walker and frolicking with us like old friends. For me this was one of the first times I'd interacted with Thai people without them asking 'Where you go?' and trying to shove me into whatever vehicle they have at their disposal. Turns out these unexpectedly shy, reserved people are pretty kind and giving on their own turf - could have been the drink of course. The next day we felt compelled to find adventure, to find danger, to prove ourselves men. So we entered the jungle and into a kingdom of Tigers; whom we wrestled until they tapped out or were knocked out. In victory we ripped off our shirts, smeared ourselves with our own blood and sacrificed a lamb. Okay, I might have exaggerated some of that. Firstly, we were in a controlled environment with tiger trainers. Secondly, there wasn't technically any wrestling - just some casual stroking and belly rubbing. Thirdly, all that stuff about ripped shirts, blood, lambs etc. may have just been put in for effect (and the tigers were unfortunately quite sedated). But I stand by my statement about the tigers, there were definitely tigers there. On the subject of Tigers I have a riddle for you: Imagine you are in a forest surrounded by tigers. The tigers circle you in every direction. You have no equipment/tools to defend yourself, just your bare hands. The area in the middle of the tigers, in which you stand, is empty (no trees etc.). The tigers are about to attack. What do you do? See the bottom of this thread for the answer. After some Muay Thai training and ditching a rather Strange Girl that had tagged onto our (now somewhat smaller) group, we made like Lancastrians and headed for Pai. Pai is a small town near Chiang Mai, from where we were about to embark on a trek. The first day of which we rode elephants, swam by a small waterfall and hiked for three hours up and down mountains as sharp as teeth to a small hill tribe village. In truth, this first village was exciting, but felt quite falsified and over-visited as there was another tour group staying at the same time as us. Nevertheless, we made a fire, ate locally sourced food and ended the evening like Reeves and Mortimer and searched the sky for Shooting Stars. However, the next day this somewhat standard trek was to alter into a once in a lifetime journey. We had been getting on well with our tourguide Terry, a man who at 23 still lives in the hills and had not seen his first village until he was 17. Midway through our six hour trek, Terry decided that we could stay with his family in his village. Later we'd find out we were only the second group to visit his village and the previous group were there three years before. The hike was at times gruelling, but the destination (to quote Woolworths) was 'well worth it'. Once we arrived, we challenged the locals to a game of volleyball and spent the evening washing in rivers, killing chickens and integrating with village folk young and old over some home-made and seemingly lethal bamboo cups of rice whisky. Terry then suggested that he and his family spend another night with us treking further into the hills to hunt, make fire and sleep under the stars. Now on reflection, this may sound like the opening to a horror film as some lonely travellers get led by men with guns into an unknown forest, miles from anywhere. But as is evident from this rather lengthy blog and not simply two words stating 'help me' this was safe as wooden houses. The hunting wasn't that sucessful as the hill tribesmen left us westerners behind after a while to do it properly - they didn't catch anything. In the meantime I took a leaf out of their book and shot a tree (pun-cough). After drinking more rum than a pirate before an AA meeting, we slept fireside under stars and trees. We studied our surrounding and could do nothing but smile at each other; were quite content - again it could have been the drink of course. Down the hills, through a hilltop temple and a jump off a 10 meter high waterfall later, we drove and bamboo rafted back to Chiang Mai to see some familiar full moon faces (if any of them read this, I apologise your faces do not look moon shaped). After a couple of days I headed my own way off to Chiang Rai and my cheapest room to date at a mere 90 Baht room. Sure the lights didn't work and mosquitoes chewed me up like hubba-bubba, but at the equivalent of two pounds I couldn't really complain. Chiang Rai is further off the beaten track and so still witholds Thailands hippy past. I spent the evening sitting in a circle at Teepee Bar and singing Nirvana accompanied by a guitarist and Jools Holland's harmonicist. Heading towards Laos I stopped off for the night in Chiang Khong. A peaceful town, I made like Peter Andre and rode a bike about town. Later, peacefully listening to Belle and Sebastien, a man dressed in loose kharkis and a round flat cricket hat casually strolled up to me as I sat, book in hand, overlooking the Mekong river. He stalled, then through a strong American accent proclaimed with a knowing smile "hey, you're too relaxed man. Too relaxed." I smiled as he left. He was right. My bowls hadn't leaked, nor had I melted under the beaming sun down into the Mekong. By that merit he was quite wrong; I wasn't too relaxed. But despite the heat of the sun I was certainly chilled, very chilled. Answer to riddle: Stop imagining. I stood and stared curiously at the man infront of me. He was certainly taller and no doubt stronger than me, but I wasn't scared. I'd find out later that he had recently been training as a Muay Thai boxer and so any physical confrontation probably should have been avoided at all costs; but, in my eyes, I had little choice. What did he expect me to do? He had asked me a question and the small crowd around me were awaiting an answer.
Had I been sober I probably would have reacted differently. But in my hazy Rum ridden state there seemed no other option and besides, a few seconds had now past and the situation was becoming ever more risky. So I reacted as any man would. I clenched my fist, slowly raised back my arm and in one swift movement thrashed him across his Tom and Harrys. For a moment out eyes met. Mine crossed with fiery determination and a aire of curiosity; his initially aglaze with a smile that slowly drifted to a sickening fear. I paused and explained, 'yes. Yes I do know what the capital of Thailand is'. To smooth things over, I went for a drink or two. In fact, my for my first week in Thailand that's pretty much all I did. I had arrived on Khao San Road, for some, backpackers paradise - but it was messy. There were other sides to Bangkok though. The Grand Palace and Wat Prakeaw were golden and sparkly to attract the simplist of simpletons and so I was VERY attracted to them. Likewise, it was pretty amazing seeing the Emerald Buddha statue at Wat Phra Kaew. The background behind this being that despite travelling for hundreds of years across South-East Asia as an intricately carved wooden statue, only when it was damaged by a lightning storm in 1434 was its emerald treasure truly uncovered. It was impressive, until I got told off for taking pictures. Bangkok has odd smells. One corner whiffs you with incense, then some-kind of meat based concoction and finally with a derrière pong. I haven't seen any other pong yet, but that seems as easy to get to as a tuk-tuk. It's very easy to get a Tuk-Tuk. For the perversely tempted, Bangkok is the city of temptations. Heading south, next stop was Koh Phangan's Full Moon Party and a stay at The Dancing Elephant. Despite being somewhat disappointed with the lack of flamboyant trunks (although I did later purchase some pretty luminous swim shorts) I at least found myself some Yankedoodles, Criminals, Double-Dutch, Beefeaters and Canadians to hang around with. Some Green Curry later and (as usual) we went drinking. The beach, the beach, the beach was (at least partly) on fire! Fire ropes, fire limbo, fire hoops and fire entertainers flooded the sand; whilst, the air often had a few fireworks.... But at least there were a few buckets to deal with any imminent dangers. Unfortunately, I suspect these buckets would worsen the situation, containing as they did a full bottle of rum, a red bull and a can of coke (and by suspect I mean know, a firefighter kindly told me so). Thus, it was quite hot. So as a group we elected to cool off. Not in that nearby sea, no, instead we had the bright idea of delving into the on beach foam party. If you the reader (and I talk to you specifically not in that novelistic or radio presenter manner of making you feel individual and special, but rather as the readership of this blog is likely to be totalling one) take any advice from this blog be it this - beach foam parties are not a good idea. I left dressed as the Sahara. After a day on the beach, we spent the evening watching some Muay Thai Boxing. They were bashing each other for sixes and sevens. As some of them only looked six or seven, this made for quite a disturbing sight. Although, a few fights and drinks later we were all going at it hammers and tongs - I'd feel guilty later though, perhaps the tongs were a bit much. Hours later we were listing to the words "Barbra Streisand", "Riverside" and "We no speak Americano" on repeat until the cows came home. I did not bring any cows home, just a headache and some dirty clothes. The morning after, people hobbled and stumbled to find cups of tea and their own choice of fruit juice. Some hobbled more than others as many were burnt, scared or had some rather unfortunate sand rashes. But this wasn't everyone. Crashing through Amongst the zombies came bright eyed glowstick lovers with more energy than the duracell bunny. It was 12.30 and for some the party was still in full swing. Something tells me they weren't on the mango juice. Walking on the beach the next day was like walking in to a pub in Bermondsey, as I found myself trying my best not to be glassed - or at least my feet did. Instead, we jumped on a boat and headed over to the other side of the island to somewhere where this problem would siece to exist - the inappropriately named Bottle Beach. We spent the day playing ultimate frisbee and cutting up coconuts. I was going to start drinking again, but I lost my bottle... Ba dum dum splash. Partied out we headed to Koh Tao to baske in the sun and swim with the fish. It rained. However, after a day of rest, we went on a boat and snorkled around all of the bays. I saw sharks, Tiger fish, and more colours of fish than a rainbow. We finished the day at the picaresque Japanese Garden, it was a good way to finish. P.S. You look really good today and that top really suits you. |
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Samuel FryTraveller Archives
June 2011
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