The difference between the slow life of Laos and the chaos of Hanoi is astounding. We arrived last night after a 1 hour flight from Vientienne, where we spent our final 3 days in Laos. The flight was bumpy but worth it - it takes over 24 hours to go by bus, an is well known to be the worst ride in S.E. Asia. The horror stories abound. Hanoi is fast-paced, more motorbikes and crazy vehicles than I've seen before, and full of beggars and salesmen as usual. We've spent our time in the old quarter around a beautiful lake decorated with lights, stages, and surrounding markets for the festival.
The final night in Vientienne was spent in good form. Before dinner I went shot for shot (6) with Nane drinking Johnny Walker Black Label, a 35 year old Laotian kickboxer from Paxai - she was a very cool girl who I thought worked at the guesthouse (because she delivered me my laundry!) but it turns out she was just a traveller as well. I tried to show her some Tai Kwon Do moves but I was no match for her skills. She's fought in many countries in Asia, like Myanmar and Cambodia, and has even gone as far as Baghdad to fight. After a funny dinner by the river with the boys where we watched a band play until closing and even jumped in on a few songs to play along, I went with Tom and Micke to WINd WEST, a night club near our guest house. The club actually had the same band as the restaurant!, playing everything from John Denver and Laotian cheesy rock songs to Nirvana. They were quite good. The confusing part about our night, which ended at 5am at a bowling alley after too many BeerLaos, Micke's purchase of his rented shoes, and nearly 500,000 kip spent, were the "ladies of the night" that always found their way over to us. Let's just say it's a classy city that easily transforms as darkness falls, but in a more subtle way than, say, Bangkok. The girls in Vientienne are slick and opportunistic, while in Bangkok it is more blatant.
Leaving Micke the Swede in the capital was sad; it's been great travelling with the group we met in Chiang Mai. Tonight we leave for Hoi An halfway down the coast, which means we skip Halong Bay and the cooler temperatures of the north, and also split off from our English buddies. Just our luck, we arrived in Hanoi on the 30th anniversary of the reunification of the country (of course) so the city is flooded with people and the entire country has booked side trips to Halong Bay. Maybe next time.
Vietnam so far is deceivingly expensive. We'll pick up custom-made suits in Hoi An and chill out on the beach in Nha Trang before heading down to Ho Chi Minh City. But I really can't wait to get out of here for some reason and cut through Cambodia back to BKK.
In the words of my English mates, I'm off to hunt for some fit birds.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Selective Memory
Laos bears the unique distinction of being the most bombed country on earth. Between 1964-1973, the United States conducted one of the largest sustained aerial bombardments in history, and many consider it one of the worst war crimes in history. It is now referred to as the "Secret War" because the decade of carpet bombing of peasant villages and caves was kept secret from Congress and the American people, for it violated the 1962 Geneva Accords that we signed.
The Americans flew over 500,000 sorties, dropping $2.2 million worth of bombs a day for ten years on eastern and southern Laos. The reasoning was to stop the domino effect spread of communism and destroy the Ho Chi Minh trail, but clearly dropping enough bombs for every man, woman and child - more than the combined amount dropped on Germany and Japan in WWII - went beyond military objectives. And I am ashamed to admit that after studying history at a major American institution, I barely ever heard of it.
Planes that failed to attack northern Vietnam from 5 airbases in Thailand and several in Vietnam due to weather or other problems were simply diverted to Laos. The Americans often didn't want to risk landing returning planes already armed with dangerous bombs. And when we finally, dramatically anounced the complete cessation of bombing north Vietnam, it simply meant that the full might of our military machine could be directed at Laos.
About 30% of the bombs we dropped never exploded. Most of these "bombies" were small cluster bombs designed to maim and kill humans. They are now buried in the fields, under houses and roads, in the front yards of highschools. Obviously, thousands of people, half children, die every year from accidents while leading simple peasant lives. America has done little to help, and the Laos government has understandably accepted little from us.
Since 1994 the British based Mines Advisory Group, chaired by Lou McGrath, has been helping remove nearly 100,000 bombies each year. In 1997 MAG won the nobel prize. They train villagers to locate and safely detonate unexploded ordnance. It is because of them that we were able to visit the Plain of Jars, a UNESCO World Heritage site in eastern Laos near a small city called Phonsavan. They've marked the safe areas to explore as well as the red areas to avoid. It is estimated that it may take 100 years to make Laos safe again.
Villages we visited in the sorrounding area have found practical uses for unexploded ordnance, using bomb casings, rockets, mortars, and fuel tanks for tools, utensils and building materials. Imagine what it makes you feel like, as an American, to stop for a coke on the side of the road and purchase it from an old man speaking french who is resting his arm on a shelf made from a bomb casing labeled "Northrop Carolina." Just driving through the countryside, the craters from 30 years ago still pock-mark the landscape. Peasants have simply farmed around them. Schools now teach children the dangers of playing with objects they find in the fields, but it makes me nervous simply to watch them farm or play in the rivers.
The real part that frankly makes me fucking sick is that this is not an isolated event in history. Returning refugees to Kosovo now face a new generation of unexploded cluster bombs used by America, the UK, and NATO. 50% of deaths there are from UXO. Whether it is in the name of freedom and democracy or to battle a dictator attempting genocide, it is simply wrong to drop these types of weapons that fail to detonate and create future dangers. One day I hope cluster bombs will be banned forever.
The amazing thing about visiting Laos is the unbelievable lack of ill feeling towards Americans. Long after my friends went to sleep in Phonsavan, I spent several hours late each night teaching English to a man whose parents fought against my parents generation, and yet there was no problem fast becoming friends. The people have seemingly forgiven and forgotten, more interested in a better future. It was all I could do to spend as much time as I could with him, mostly because I enjoyed it but I must admit partly from this hidden feeling of guilt. Sinh is a mathematics teacher from a small village near Vientienne, improving his English at a torturously slow but steady pace for lack of native speakers to talk with. His writing, reading, and grammar were quite excellent for a self-taught man, but his pronunciation suffered. Most foreigners, he shared with me, simply refuse to take the time to stop and help someone like him. He hopes to master the language in 5 years time.
Please excuse the seriousness of this entry, but it kept me up the better part of last night.
The Americans flew over 500,000 sorties, dropping $2.2 million worth of bombs a day for ten years on eastern and southern Laos. The reasoning was to stop the domino effect spread of communism and destroy the Ho Chi Minh trail, but clearly dropping enough bombs for every man, woman and child - more than the combined amount dropped on Germany and Japan in WWII - went beyond military objectives. And I am ashamed to admit that after studying history at a major American institution, I barely ever heard of it.
Planes that failed to attack northern Vietnam from 5 airbases in Thailand and several in Vietnam due to weather or other problems were simply diverted to Laos. The Americans often didn't want to risk landing returning planes already armed with dangerous bombs. And when we finally, dramatically anounced the complete cessation of bombing north Vietnam, it simply meant that the full might of our military machine could be directed at Laos.
About 30% of the bombs we dropped never exploded. Most of these "bombies" were small cluster bombs designed to maim and kill humans. They are now buried in the fields, under houses and roads, in the front yards of highschools. Obviously, thousands of people, half children, die every year from accidents while leading simple peasant lives. America has done little to help, and the Laos government has understandably accepted little from us.
Since 1994 the British based Mines Advisory Group, chaired by Lou McGrath, has been helping remove nearly 100,000 bombies each year. In 1997 MAG won the nobel prize. They train villagers to locate and safely detonate unexploded ordnance. It is because of them that we were able to visit the Plain of Jars, a UNESCO World Heritage site in eastern Laos near a small city called Phonsavan. They've marked the safe areas to explore as well as the red areas to avoid. It is estimated that it may take 100 years to make Laos safe again.
Villages we visited in the sorrounding area have found practical uses for unexploded ordnance, using bomb casings, rockets, mortars, and fuel tanks for tools, utensils and building materials. Imagine what it makes you feel like, as an American, to stop for a coke on the side of the road and purchase it from an old man speaking french who is resting his arm on a shelf made from a bomb casing labeled "Northrop Carolina." Just driving through the countryside, the craters from 30 years ago still pock-mark the landscape. Peasants have simply farmed around them. Schools now teach children the dangers of playing with objects they find in the fields, but it makes me nervous simply to watch them farm or play in the rivers.
The real part that frankly makes me fucking sick is that this is not an isolated event in history. Returning refugees to Kosovo now face a new generation of unexploded cluster bombs used by America, the UK, and NATO. 50% of deaths there are from UXO. Whether it is in the name of freedom and democracy or to battle a dictator attempting genocide, it is simply wrong to drop these types of weapons that fail to detonate and create future dangers. One day I hope cluster bombs will be banned forever.
The amazing thing about visiting Laos is the unbelievable lack of ill feeling towards Americans. Long after my friends went to sleep in Phonsavan, I spent several hours late each night teaching English to a man whose parents fought against my parents generation, and yet there was no problem fast becoming friends. The people have seemingly forgiven and forgotten, more interested in a better future. It was all I could do to spend as much time as I could with him, mostly because I enjoyed it but I must admit partly from this hidden feeling of guilt. Sinh is a mathematics teacher from a small village near Vientienne, improving his English at a torturously slow but steady pace for lack of native speakers to talk with. His writing, reading, and grammar were quite excellent for a self-taught man, but his pronunciation suffered. Most foreigners, he shared with me, simply refuse to take the time to stop and help someone like him. He hopes to master the language in 5 years time.
Please excuse the seriousness of this entry, but it kept me up the better part of last night.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Millionaires on the Mekong
Water buffalos, monks in orange garb flashing you from the shore, raging forest fires on the hillsides as you glide by, tasty BeerLao and baguette sandwiches everywhere, and literally inch thick stacks in rubber bands of tens upon tens of thousands of kip (their dollars) that we throw around in card games and roll cigarettes with...
We are in Laos (and their is internet but no ATMs), after a two day barge-style slow boat trip down the Mekong, staying overnight in a small village for one dollar before making it to Luang Prabang. We are now travelling with two hilarious Englishmen from Birmingham, Steve and Tom, who talk rugby and football all day, and a Swede, Mike, who loves pizza. Today we visited Kouang Si Waterfall outside the city, with multiple falls and swimming holes where tourists and monks alike leap from the tops of rope swings and waterfalls. There are also tigers and asiatic black bears housed next to the waterfall, a protection effort from poachers. It was a great day, and I have awesome pictures. I'll figure out a way to post them, I promise.
We eat most meals here at Hong's, a great cafe with an owner who refers to me as his boyfriend and showers me with love - apparently I look exactly like his ex from NYC, glasses and facial hair and all. It's actually become quite confusing to deal with the touchy feely guys we meet in these countries, you never know the line between playful and overboard! but it's all part of the experience I guess. I just laugh and make friends. At some point I should dedicate an entire entry to the strange phenomenon of 3rd sexes, bisexuality, and homosexuality that permeates the communities we've visited. Fascinating and very different, in terms of cultural acceptibility, than what I've experienced before.
Last night was the end of their New Year celebration here - it coincides with Songkran in Thailand. I went to watch thousands at the main temple pour water from ceremonial bowls on a famous Buddha borrowed from the museum here, and children gathered round for a traditional Laotian dance festival performance of choreographed groups of monsters (masks) with intricate hand and foot and leg movements. We also strolled past student monks in lesson at a local temple near the city center night market.
The only problem now becomes time. We have only 15 days on the Visa, and intend to be in Vietnam sooner anyhow@! How ridiculous. My heart is set on seeing the Plain of Jars and Vang Vieng, a village halfway south to the capital Vientienne. More south is less travelled and tempting, but I fear we're stretched too thin already.
We are in Laos (and their is internet but no ATMs), after a two day barge-style slow boat trip down the Mekong, staying overnight in a small village for one dollar before making it to Luang Prabang. We are now travelling with two hilarious Englishmen from Birmingham, Steve and Tom, who talk rugby and football all day, and a Swede, Mike, who loves pizza. Today we visited Kouang Si Waterfall outside the city, with multiple falls and swimming holes where tourists and monks alike leap from the tops of rope swings and waterfalls. There are also tigers and asiatic black bears housed next to the waterfall, a protection effort from poachers. It was a great day, and I have awesome pictures. I'll figure out a way to post them, I promise.
We eat most meals here at Hong's, a great cafe with an owner who refers to me as his boyfriend and showers me with love - apparently I look exactly like his ex from NYC, glasses and facial hair and all. It's actually become quite confusing to deal with the touchy feely guys we meet in these countries, you never know the line between playful and overboard! but it's all part of the experience I guess. I just laugh and make friends. At some point I should dedicate an entire entry to the strange phenomenon of 3rd sexes, bisexuality, and homosexuality that permeates the communities we've visited. Fascinating and very different, in terms of cultural acceptibility, than what I've experienced before.
Last night was the end of their New Year celebration here - it coincides with Songkran in Thailand. I went to watch thousands at the main temple pour water from ceremonial bowls on a famous Buddha borrowed from the museum here, and children gathered round for a traditional Laotian dance festival performance of choreographed groups of monsters (masks) with intricate hand and foot and leg movements. We also strolled past student monks in lesson at a local temple near the city center night market.
The only problem now becomes time. We have only 15 days on the Visa, and intend to be in Vietnam sooner anyhow@! How ridiculous. My heart is set on seeing the Plain of Jars and Vang Vieng, a village halfway south to the capital Vientienne. More south is less travelled and tempting, but I fear we're stretched too thin already.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Songkran Mayhem
It's hard to describe. Drive-by motorcycle and pick-up truck attacks, water guns of all sizes, and oh so many buckets. Traffic jams and crossfire ambushes all along the canal that encircles the city. Everyone, old and young alike, are fair game in the streets of Chiang Mai, at any hour. For Songkran, the week-long new year festival, you can't walk to an ATM down the block without getting soaked by kids with hoses and buckets. The ambushes are the best.
This madness is what we returned to in Chiang Mai after a three day trek with 3 different hill-tribes in northwest Thailand near the Burmese border. They were of Chinese, Tibetan, and Burmese descent, and we stayed over in a village of each of the second two, and went elephant riding and bamboo rafting during the hikes. Our guide was a deaf guy named Bai, one of the warmest and funniest guys I've met here - he also did some drinking with us and was the life of the party sometimes! The hiking wasn't so bad after what we dealt with in the jungle, but it was still challenging. The best part is playing with the village children; water fights, teaching them how to use a digital camera, singing or dancing around. We had a massive water fight at a rest stop, and all along the roadways (in the back of a pick-up) we'd be doused with buckets of hot and cold, clean and smelly water. "Incoming!^%$&^%$"
We were grouped with three pums (Englishmen), 3 Aussie girls, one South African, a Swede, a Frenchman, and one adorable Japanese girl. Kyoko taught me a great Japanese tongue twister. Once again, the group was amazing, and we've continued to hang out afterwards in the city. Many travellers head to Laos from here via Chiang Rai, so we're sure to see these people again along the way. I think we'll head that way tomorrow.
There's nothing like riding on the back of a moving vehicle with a huge water gun and a Chang beer, battling the locals like 10 year-old children. I can't even imagine this happening in an American city - people would get violent and ruin it of course.
Chiang Mai is like one big market, night and day. Mommy, you'd go nuts. Nuts. The streets are lined with vendors and food, row after row, and the temples and alleys are no different. If you get tired you can stop for a half hour foot massage for about a doller or two - rows upon rows of long chairs line the markets. It may be enhanced for the holiday, but you can find stands on every inch of sidewalk.
Last night we made a round at the bars along the canal, the most interesting of which was the last bar at 3am, full of "lady-boys." There's sort of this 3rd sex that exists in Malaysia and Thailand, sometimes very attractive! until you realize what you're checking out. Anyway, it was fun.
Ok, I'm going back over the pool to chill...! This is a do-nothing lazy day - maybe I'll take a walk and get soaked in a few minutes. We'll be off to Laos for 7-10 days, so I'll post if I can but it may have to wait until Vietnam. See you soon.
This madness is what we returned to in Chiang Mai after a three day trek with 3 different hill-tribes in northwest Thailand near the Burmese border. They were of Chinese, Tibetan, and Burmese descent, and we stayed over in a village of each of the second two, and went elephant riding and bamboo rafting during the hikes. Our guide was a deaf guy named Bai, one of the warmest and funniest guys I've met here - he also did some drinking with us and was the life of the party sometimes! The hiking wasn't so bad after what we dealt with in the jungle, but it was still challenging. The best part is playing with the village children; water fights, teaching them how to use a digital camera, singing or dancing around. We had a massive water fight at a rest stop, and all along the roadways (in the back of a pick-up) we'd be doused with buckets of hot and cold, clean and smelly water. "Incoming!^%$&^%$"
We were grouped with three pums (Englishmen), 3 Aussie girls, one South African, a Swede, a Frenchman, and one adorable Japanese girl. Kyoko taught me a great Japanese tongue twister. Once again, the group was amazing, and we've continued to hang out afterwards in the city. Many travellers head to Laos from here via Chiang Rai, so we're sure to see these people again along the way. I think we'll head that way tomorrow.
There's nothing like riding on the back of a moving vehicle with a huge water gun and a Chang beer, battling the locals like 10 year-old children. I can't even imagine this happening in an American city - people would get violent and ruin it of course.
Chiang Mai is like one big market, night and day. Mommy, you'd go nuts. Nuts. The streets are lined with vendors and food, row after row, and the temples and alleys are no different. If you get tired you can stop for a half hour foot massage for about a doller or two - rows upon rows of long chairs line the markets. It may be enhanced for the holiday, but you can find stands on every inch of sidewalk.
Last night we made a round at the bars along the canal, the most interesting of which was the last bar at 3am, full of "lady-boys." There's sort of this 3rd sex that exists in Malaysia and Thailand, sometimes very attractive! until you realize what you're checking out. Anyway, it was fun.
Ok, I'm going back over the pool to chill...! This is a do-nothing lazy day - maybe I'll take a walk and get soaked in a few minutes. We'll be off to Laos for 7-10 days, so I'll post if I can but it may have to wait until Vietnam. See you soon.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Khoa San Road is Lame
You hear a lot of hype about this street, Khoa San Road, where all the backpackers stay and where you can "buy anything." Fake ID's, clothing, drugs, whatever. But the truth is, it is just a tourist trap. If you want to see craziness go to Kowloon in HK.
The real Bangkok is just too big to understand in a few days passing through. This may be the biggest city I've ever seen, aside from maybe Buenos Aires. The streets just go on forever, and whether we travel by foot, cab, or tuktuk (I don't suggest foot), we are instantly turned around and lost. I think the best part of the city is Chinatown - the sort of Chinatown I imagined but did not find in Hong Kong. The sort of Chinatown where you could make a great action flick with mafia warlords and the whole deal...we had sharkfin soup there last night.
Songkran (Thai new year) begins in a few days, and preparations are already underway. The parades are beginning, the grand palace is lit up, and the fireworks are exploding all over town. We'll get soaked at the parade today before we leave for Chiang Mai.
The real Bangkok is just too big to understand in a few days passing through. This may be the biggest city I've ever seen, aside from maybe Buenos Aires. The streets just go on forever, and whether we travel by foot, cab, or tuktuk (I don't suggest foot), we are instantly turned around and lost. I think the best part of the city is Chinatown - the sort of Chinatown I imagined but did not find in Hong Kong. The sort of Chinatown where you could make a great action flick with mafia warlords and the whole deal...we had sharkfin soup there last night.
Songkran (Thai new year) begins in a few days, and preparations are already underway. The parades are beginning, the grand palace is lit up, and the fireworks are exploding all over town. We'll get soaked at the parade today before we leave for Chiang Mai.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Land of Smiles
Dear Mom and Dad,
Happy birthday to dad! Congrats to Marc, who has landed a stellar job in London at a bank - you've earned it. Now, pack my things, yes everything on the 3rd floor, my old room, maybe the drumset in the basement... I've found what can only be appropriately called nirvana here in Thailand. The concept may have originated in India, and I'm no buddhisavta, but I believe it may only be found on a small number of islands on the Andaman Coast of southern Thailand...
For those of you who check up on me, thank you, and sorry for the lack of posts. Despite the earthquake, three bombs in the city of Had Yai where we were 2 days before, and the death of the Pope, things have been just peachy! We've been hanging out on islands basically only accessible by longtail boat (engine powered canoes) where there are no docks and they just sort of drop you in the shallow part of a beach and say "see you later." Taratao National Marine Park and Railay Beach in Krabi Province were our paradises for the past week or so.
Getting to Taratao from Penang after the earthquake was a hike, and we missed the 3 hour boat, but found solace in a sweet bungalow near the pier. Passing through Had Yai meant our first rides on the back of motorcycles driven by non-english speaking Thais, winding around the maze of city streets with our huge backpacks on. We must have taken 4 different forms of transportation that day.
In Taratao we camped on the beach in Ko Adang for $1.50 each - literally 10 feet from the water, and I would have slept right there out of the tent if it weren't for those pesky little sand-colored crabs biting my toes. Then we hopped to Ko Lipe where there are a few resorts and some bars. Let me try and present the scene for you: white sand beaches, hour and a half full body Thai massage on the beach, 6 dollar resort beach-front bungalow split between two people, fresh fruit and fish, island children, kittens and puppies, sunrise, swimming, snorkling trip to 4 locations for 6 bucks, sunset, etc. You do nothing or everthing, and you love it. Basically it is possible to find this straight-out-of-a-movie sort of thing. The Thai government has now created over 100 national parks that keep much of the islands less developed. Taratau is actually where they filmed survivor a few years back.
In Ko Lipe we got some Thai nicknames from our favorite bartender, Pooh. Basically to help Thais pronounce our names correctly, they call us Peter Pan and Scotch Whiskey. Scott's name is cooler than mine, I know.
Because of our tight schedule, we somehow dragged ourselves away from Taratau and headed for Krabi. Along the way we travelled by boat and minibus with 5 lovely Argentinian girls a couple years older than ourselves. I've talked for hours with one girl, Sophia, mostly about our countries' (I visited Erica there recently) differences and similarities and cultural overlaps, and also learned some new Spanish phrases. These chicks had been to maybe just as many places in the States as me! Actually, they made a point of making me say "the States" instead of America because they are Americans too. We ended up hanging out with these ladies for 3-4 days en route to Au Nang and on the beaches of Railay. I was surprised to find myself actually completely surrounded by Catholics upon hearing of the death of the Pope. We watched an hour documentary on his life in the hotel.
Railay was on our list because of a previous acquaintance, Elissa. She had found her nirvana there, and we needed to check it out. To be honest, if we had to choose we would go back to Taratao National Park. But over the next few days we settled in and started to see why Elissa's 2 days turned into 2-3 weeks. First of all, the rockclimbing is just plain badass. We took a "beginner" course for a day with a great instructor, Rampung, and she had us scaling vertical cliffs 30 meters high in no time. I am still sore in the weirdest places, but what a rush man, seriously. Great photos. It is so hard, so so hard, but so rewarding. Railay has a west and east side - two beaches on a penninsula not accesible by land. It is therefore still small enough and hard enough to get to to be perfect. Sunsets there are unforgettable. From 5-6pm the whole community (2-3 hundred maybe) is on the beach drinking, smoking, playing soccer and volleyball, and just taking it easy. The western beach is flanked by mountains - one called "The Sleeping Indian" because it looks like an Indian lying down. The locals have climbed them all. Perhaps the most fun we had in Railay was an all-night party with a locally famous band at a chill bar. They played Raggae and Thai music, and everyone mingled or danced or just chilled. We met a very interesting woman from the UK who lives in Spain now, and I met a couple very sweet girls from Bangkok on vacation, Lisa and Pen.
The next day at sunset a guy bought me and Scott beers and then told us all about how he moved to Railay a few years back, opened a climbing shop, and how happy he is now. You just don't get that sort of friendliness at home, where people think you're sketchy if you do something like that. I love how we meet people almost without trying, ending up at lunch or dinner with a new friend every day. There really is this ridiculous unspoken bond between travellers - the nice ones at least.
People also told us about how the community dealt with the 10 meter high tsunami waves that they are still struggling to forget. There is wreckage remaining, but most of the west side has been rebuilt. The collection of stories is overwhelming; people scared to enter the water now and unable to truly convey what they saw. If you weren't there, you just don't know - the ocean went way out, disappearing for a time, and then crashed in, devastating the island while people fled to higher ground. I hadn't realized it wasn't just one wave, it just kept repeating.
So we are now on to Bangkok, where we handled some administrative tasks after a hellish bus ride from Krabi-Surat Thani-Bangkok with crazy loud Israelis, a Dutchman sleeping to Metallica, aisle lights and a bathroom lights that didn't work, and freezing cold air conditioning that kept us awake until our 6am arrival. Today we called our parents, dropped off our passports at the Vietnamese Embassy, bought bus tickets for Chiang Mai where we will celebrate the Thai New Year (getting soaked by marauding gangs of children with water) and do an elephant trek, got shaves and haircuts, got our laundry done, and used the internet! Bangkok is gigantic, perhaps the biggest city I've ever seen. I'm more excited to go north and then into Laos, where people say it is the slow life, like Thailand 20 years ago.
Last night we were hanging out with Nell, a 21 year old girl from Melbourne. I said I couldn't wait to get to BKK and get my haircut - she said she could'nt wait to get home to Australia to get hair extensions (she cut off her 5 year dreadlock after getting lice!, eww). She's got a 36 hour flight time to get home, something I'll end up doing at the end of my trip - not looking forward to it.
That's all for now - paradise beaches, Argentinian and Thai girls, sun tans and cheap eats. More pictures soon, I hope.
Happy birthday to dad! Congrats to Marc, who has landed a stellar job in London at a bank - you've earned it. Now, pack my things, yes everything on the 3rd floor, my old room, maybe the drumset in the basement... I've found what can only be appropriately called nirvana here in Thailand. The concept may have originated in India, and I'm no buddhisavta, but I believe it may only be found on a small number of islands on the Andaman Coast of southern Thailand...
For those of you who check up on me, thank you, and sorry for the lack of posts. Despite the earthquake, three bombs in the city of Had Yai where we were 2 days before, and the death of the Pope, things have been just peachy! We've been hanging out on islands basically only accessible by longtail boat (engine powered canoes) where there are no docks and they just sort of drop you in the shallow part of a beach and say "see you later." Taratao National Marine Park and Railay Beach in Krabi Province were our paradises for the past week or so.
Getting to Taratao from Penang after the earthquake was a hike, and we missed the 3 hour boat, but found solace in a sweet bungalow near the pier. Passing through Had Yai meant our first rides on the back of motorcycles driven by non-english speaking Thais, winding around the maze of city streets with our huge backpacks on. We must have taken 4 different forms of transportation that day.
In Taratao we camped on the beach in Ko Adang for $1.50 each - literally 10 feet from the water, and I would have slept right there out of the tent if it weren't for those pesky little sand-colored crabs biting my toes. Then we hopped to Ko Lipe where there are a few resorts and some bars. Let me try and present the scene for you: white sand beaches, hour and a half full body Thai massage on the beach, 6 dollar resort beach-front bungalow split between two people, fresh fruit and fish, island children, kittens and puppies, sunrise, swimming, snorkling trip to 4 locations for 6 bucks, sunset, etc. You do nothing or everthing, and you love it. Basically it is possible to find this straight-out-of-a-movie sort of thing. The Thai government has now created over 100 national parks that keep much of the islands less developed. Taratau is actually where they filmed survivor a few years back.
In Ko Lipe we got some Thai nicknames from our favorite bartender, Pooh. Basically to help Thais pronounce our names correctly, they call us Peter Pan and Scotch Whiskey. Scott's name is cooler than mine, I know.
Because of our tight schedule, we somehow dragged ourselves away from Taratau and headed for Krabi. Along the way we travelled by boat and minibus with 5 lovely Argentinian girls a couple years older than ourselves. I've talked for hours with one girl, Sophia, mostly about our countries' (I visited Erica there recently) differences and similarities and cultural overlaps, and also learned some new Spanish phrases. These chicks had been to maybe just as many places in the States as me! Actually, they made a point of making me say "the States" instead of America because they are Americans too. We ended up hanging out with these ladies for 3-4 days en route to Au Nang and on the beaches of Railay. I was surprised to find myself actually completely surrounded by Catholics upon hearing of the death of the Pope. We watched an hour documentary on his life in the hotel.
Railay was on our list because of a previous acquaintance, Elissa. She had found her nirvana there, and we needed to check it out. To be honest, if we had to choose we would go back to Taratao National Park. But over the next few days we settled in and started to see why Elissa's 2 days turned into 2-3 weeks. First of all, the rockclimbing is just plain badass. We took a "beginner" course for a day with a great instructor, Rampung, and she had us scaling vertical cliffs 30 meters high in no time. I am still sore in the weirdest places, but what a rush man, seriously. Great photos. It is so hard, so so hard, but so rewarding. Railay has a west and east side - two beaches on a penninsula not accesible by land. It is therefore still small enough and hard enough to get to to be perfect. Sunsets there are unforgettable. From 5-6pm the whole community (2-3 hundred maybe) is on the beach drinking, smoking, playing soccer and volleyball, and just taking it easy. The western beach is flanked by mountains - one called "The Sleeping Indian" because it looks like an Indian lying down. The locals have climbed them all. Perhaps the most fun we had in Railay was an all-night party with a locally famous band at a chill bar. They played Raggae and Thai music, and everyone mingled or danced or just chilled. We met a very interesting woman from the UK who lives in Spain now, and I met a couple very sweet girls from Bangkok on vacation, Lisa and Pen.
The next day at sunset a guy bought me and Scott beers and then told us all about how he moved to Railay a few years back, opened a climbing shop, and how happy he is now. You just don't get that sort of friendliness at home, where people think you're sketchy if you do something like that. I love how we meet people almost without trying, ending up at lunch or dinner with a new friend every day. There really is this ridiculous unspoken bond between travellers - the nice ones at least.
People also told us about how the community dealt with the 10 meter high tsunami waves that they are still struggling to forget. There is wreckage remaining, but most of the west side has been rebuilt. The collection of stories is overwhelming; people scared to enter the water now and unable to truly convey what they saw. If you weren't there, you just don't know - the ocean went way out, disappearing for a time, and then crashed in, devastating the island while people fled to higher ground. I hadn't realized it wasn't just one wave, it just kept repeating.
So we are now on to Bangkok, where we handled some administrative tasks after a hellish bus ride from Krabi-Surat Thani-Bangkok with crazy loud Israelis, a Dutchman sleeping to Metallica, aisle lights and a bathroom lights that didn't work, and freezing cold air conditioning that kept us awake until our 6am arrival. Today we called our parents, dropped off our passports at the Vietnamese Embassy, bought bus tickets for Chiang Mai where we will celebrate the Thai New Year (getting soaked by marauding gangs of children with water) and do an elephant trek, got shaves and haircuts, got our laundry done, and used the internet! Bangkok is gigantic, perhaps the biggest city I've ever seen. I'm more excited to go north and then into Laos, where people say it is the slow life, like Thailand 20 years ago.
Last night we were hanging out with Nell, a 21 year old girl from Melbourne. I said I couldn't wait to get to BKK and get my haircut - she said she could'nt wait to get home to Australia to get hair extensions (she cut off her 5 year dreadlock after getting lice!, eww). She's got a 36 hour flight time to get home, something I'll end up doing at the end of my trip - not looking forward to it.
That's all for now - paradise beaches, Argentinian and Thai girls, sun tans and cheap eats. More pictures soon, I hope.
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