Dino-Lizard Vs. Monster Spider 4

I'm nervous.  Last night I had a dream that Laura was having an affair with some douche bag who had a stupid hair cut.  It seems they were meeting up whenever I popped out to write my blog.  I'm not sure of the exact logistics of how the affair works, but I can only guess that he is following us everywhere we go and Laura is texting him using a secret phone that I don't know about to tell him to come over.  Sounds possible.  I'm going to be keeping my wits about me for the next couple of weeks just in case.  I'm on to you Laura.

In the last couple of weeks or so we have made our way out of Thailand and into Malaysia.  Although we had a great time in Thailand, we were more than ready to leave after six weeks.  We made one last pit stop in Koh Lanta to catch up with an old friend who we first met in China and then jumped the boarder to Penang.

Anything to get away from the Monkey gang.

Koh Lanta is a reasonably small, quiet island located in the South of Thailand.  While we were there we spent a bit of time chilling out by the pool and visited a cave and a national park.  The caving experience was incredible.  We've been on a few caving trips since leaving home but none that required us to navigate around spiders, bats, bamboo bridges over 10m drops to total darkness (and likely more spiders) and through tunnels too small to fit through with a bag on.  It was slightly nerve racking but entirely rewarding.  After going through the caves we set off to the national park on our mopeds.  There were six of us in total so we were essentially like the Hells Angels only slightly harder and more bad ass.  The trouble with being in a biker gang is that you attract attention from rival gangs.  En route to the national park we had a few encounters with small monkey gangs.  They were sat on the sides of the roads smoking cigars with biker helmets on just waiting for us to drive past so they could take a swipe at us.  Well, not quite but any that we did see ran for us and either tried to jump on us or scratch us.  I have to admit, I was a little scared.  Luckily we got to the national park unharmed.  On the way back things were slightly different. Where there had been the odd monkey kicking about on the road there were now full on clans of about 20 or 30 (no shit, there were loads of them) just sitting there picking nits out of each others fur and scratching their arse holes.  Now, I wouldn't want to get scratched by a monkey at the best of times but a monkey scratching me with it's shit covered fingers is a step too far.  Dirty tactics that.  We had to stop our bikes in the road to figure out what to do. We discussed our options and we were left with only one;  A "Brave Heart" style showdown.  We decided it was best to stick close to each other in order to look as big as possible but that lasted all of two seconds. When the monkey's saw that we were advancing they started for us and split us up.  Suddenly the 20-30 monkey's in in the road were running and screeching trying their best to get on the bikes to bite or scratch us. They were all over us and all we could do was drive.  I saw one go under the front wheel of Ashley's bike and other than that I can't remember much, it was a bit of a blur.  We got through the the battlefield unharmed but slightly shaken.  Not the relaxing ride we were hoping for.  I think I'll hang up my leathers for while.

After Koh Lanta we were off to Penang.  Penang is an Island off the West coast of Malaysia.  It's not like the islands we had been on previously in Thailand, it's more of a city.  We had a fantastic time there.  The city itself is beautiful,  it's steeped in history and has some amazing heritage sites.  For me though the best thing in Penang is the food.  Ho-ly Shit.  As there are so many different cultures in Malaysia (and in particular, Penang) it's easy to find all types of food.  There is a very large Chinese and Indian community so where ever you are there are always street venders working away over a frying pan or wok.  I must have put on about a stone in the 5 days we were there but I just couldn't stop eating.  The food is so cheap and so tasty it's easy to get fat.  On top of cheap street food you can get a Big Mac meal for just over a quid.  A QUID! If they were a quid at home we'd have a real problem on our hands.  People would get uber fat, uber quick.  Although eating pretty much dominated our time in Penang we did have a chance to dig a little deeper into the Malaysian culture.  Back when I was in the UK studying I met a lad from Penang who was on the same course as me.  He had moved over to the UK to get his degree.  A pretty bold thing to do.  I worked with him a few times during group projects and helped him out occasionally when he was struggling to get his work together.  It's not easy studying for a degree when it's in your own language never mind in a foreign language.  I never really gave him as much of my time as I should have though and even though he didn't have a big social circle I never made the effort to include him in my plans.  Looking back I can see that I should have made more effort for the lad.  Anyway, he moved back to Penang after graduating and I never really heard from him again.  I decided to send him a message on Facebook saying I was going to be in his 'hood' for a few days and asked if he wanted to go for a drink or something.

Our hosts in Penang.

He replied saying that he would show us around and take us to his home so that we could meet his family.  He ended up spending his whole weekend driving us around, taking us to posh restaurants and bars, giving us information about what we were seeing and wouldn't let us spend a penny.  I felt a streak of pure guilt.  He was so pleased to have us in his home town and would do anything to make sure we had a good time.  I could tell he was proud.  When the situation was reversed and he was in my home town I essentially did fuck all for him.  I feel shitty for that. On top of his weekend tour, he arranged with his family to have us over for a traditional Malaysian dinner. Being welcomed into a family home like we were is something we haven't experienced so far on this trip. We had great food, lots of beer, and great chat.  We learnt a lot about how a normal Malaysian family works, and guess what? They're just as dysfunctional, loving, annoying, kind and proud as my family and yours.  A family is a family it turns out, no matter where you are.  During our dinner our host was particularly attentive, spooning food onto our plates faster than we could eat it.  It reminded me of a similar situation we faced in India in a guest house.  I don't mind, to me the food is always good, I'll eat anything and be grateful for it.  Laura on the other hand sits and skwirms.

Our extended Malaysian family.

I love watching her in these situations.  She's a bit picky, she doesn't like her food to touch other food on her plate and she's scared of curries when she doesn't really know what's in them.  So when she has a lady spooning random curries and fried fish onto her plate her face is a sight.  She tries to be polite but inside she is terrified.  I can see her mind calculating how she can get the food off her plate and either on to mine or into the dog bowl without anyone seeing.  The answer is that she can't.  Asian women like to sit and watch you enjoy their food.  So it can only go one place, down the hatch.  She just about made it through dinner without hurling or insulting our host but dessert posed another problem, even for me.  Imagine a trifle.  Delicious right? Cream, custard, jelly and sponge.  What I'd give for a bit of my Mam's home made trifle.  Right, now swap out the jelly and sponge for a salty, malty goo.  Swap the custard for condensed sweet milk and swap the cream for boiled sweet potato.  I don't know what it's called but I was gagging trying to get it down.  I managed a few mouthfuls and had to give up.  Laura saw me struggle and decided not to try.  Not quite what we're used to but clearly Mrs Supraminiam had gone to a great deal of trouble so for that we are very grateful.

That yellow thing isn't a mushroom.  It's a table and chairs.

After out very homely experience in Penang we were bound for the Perhentian Islands.  It took a night bus and speed boat to get there which actually wasn't too bad but it left us feeling pretty tired and groggy.  We landed on the beach at about 8am and I went for the usual stroll looking for accommodation while Laura sat in a cafe and 'watched the bags' (i.e. sat on her arse drinking fruit juice while I sweated my bollocks off walking up and down the beach).  There were lots of hotels and what not but none of them had anyone on reception so I couldn't check in.  Annoying.  I walked around for two hours looking for a place before finding two options.  A massively overpriced room that was well out of our price range or a shitty timber structure covered by a tin A frame roof with a mattress on the floor (which was also over priced).  After arguing about which room to stay in we decided we try and give it a go in the nasty A frame hut.  We slept for a few hours and I woke up to the sight of a lizard chasing a fucking huge spider across the wall right above my head.  That's it.  I'm fed up with this day.  Why am I paying for this shitty room when I won't get any sleep or enjoy a single second that I spend here? I got up, woke Laura up and we checked into a nicer room that was way out of our price range and still pretty shitty.  At least we would be able to sleep without being wrapped in a web and dragged to the monster spider's lair.  On our first day in our new "posh" hotel we saw what we thought were three big lizards which were cool as fuck! I don't know what type they were, they were about 1ft long and really interesting to watch.  I was pretty excited that they were kicking about our room most mornings.  It turns out a 1ft long lizard isn't actually that big.  Who knew?  One day while we were eating lunch we saw what can only be described as a fucking dinosaur.  I've since learned that what we actually saw was a 5 ft long Monitor Lizard which could apparently eat a dog, which is about the same size as a toddler, which means it could eat a toddler, which is a human, which means we can describe it as a man eating lizard.  It wasn't doing much, it just kind of passed by without noticing us but I was pretty excited to see it.

No matter how hard we tried we couldn't get a good pose.

That wasn't our only brush with nature during our time there.  We went out on a snorkeling day trip which allowed us to get up close and personal with all sorts of fish, a turtle, a reef shark, a Finding Nemo (as it is scientifically referred to) and what I thought was a whale but turned out to be Laura swimming in the distance.  Too far?  I know it is but insulting your girlfriend for a cheap and easy laugh is too much fun.  Or is it cheap and easy girlfriend? OK, now I know I'm in the dog house.  It was nice knowing you all.

It's the best time ever to be British and the best time ever to be in England.  I didn't realise quite how much having the Olympics on home turf would make me miss home and make me want to be back there.  It's a real one off and probably the most important positive event that has happened in England in my lifetime so far (apart from TalentStar....obviously).  To watch the opening ceremony we had to stay up til 6am.  Not easy after traveling for 12 hours on the bus earlier in the day but as I said, it's a one off.  I thought the ceremony was absolutely incredible.  I don't know what the feeling back home is, but the Brits who we've spoken to here thought the same as us.  It made me very proud to be British.  Laura was in tears the whole time.  I think seeing all the images of England and all that it stands for made us both homesick and we both could probably do with a weekend back at home.  I'm hoping that the games run smoothly and that the event is regarded as one of the best.  I'm also hoping that my bet for a Chinese fella drowning at some point comes off.
Watching The Queen parachute from a helicopter got me thinking of the phrase 'when pigs fly'.  Not because I think she is a pig but because it's one of those things that you could never imagine seeing.  You wouldn't even dream it up.  I really really hope there is a fella somewhere who's wife has agreed to some kind of degrading, dirty sexual act on the basis of "if the queen parachutes from a helicopter with James bond on live television....."  That guy will be laughing his head off.  

Some bad news.  You may have noticed there are no photos.  Very observant of you.  Unfortunately something weird has happened to my card which means I can't get the photos off it and onto the PC to load to the blog.  Sorry! I can't handle the thought of losing two months worth of photos so I'm not even going to muck around with it.  If possible I'll update the post later, and, if I can't, I'll put in extra photos next time.

Some good news.  Last week we were granted our Australian working visa's so we're good to go.  It's just over a month until we fly to Perth where the whole game changes.  We have to find jobs, integrate in a westernised community, shower everyday and try and start a new life.  I'm excited and nervous all at the same time.  Still a few more destinations before that comes though so I'll be sure to keep you in the loop.

Lessons Learnt This Week;

1. Its better to be eaten alive by a Dino-Lizard than a Monster Spider.
2. Don't mess with monkeys in biker gang attire. 
3. The Queen is a bad ass.
4. It's OK to get homesick.
5. Make time for foreigners in our country.  You might need them to repay the favor one day.

Familiar Faces

Ahhhhhhhhhh.  That's a sigh of relief in case it doesn't come across as so.  Hello again.  I feel like it's been ages since I've had time to sit down, relax, take some 'me time' and write a post.  In fact, it has been ages, somewhere close to a month I think.  Not to worry though, we haven't stopped doing what we do and I haven't fallen out with my blog, I just literally have not had one minute spare.  Why? Because I've had the (dis)pleasure of having my little brother out for the last three weeks with our old flat mate.  Seeing old friends and family has been amazing.  But looking after a 17 year old younger brother is no walk in the park.  That said, no matter how much extra pressure looking after your family is, it doesn't compare to how good it is having them around you.  It's weird how much you miss having a familiar face around and it's a total pleasure not having to go through the oh so tiresome traveler introductory conversation that I may have mentioned in an earlier post;

"Hey, how are you doing?"

"Fine, you?"

"Yeah good.  How has your trip been?'

"Good, and you?"

"Great.  Where have you been?"

"Generic place a, b, c, d and e."

"Sounds great."

"Yeah, where have you been?"

"Generic place a, b, c, d and e."

"Where are you headed next?"

"Generic place f, g, h and i."

"Cool, me too.  Where was your favorite place so far?"

" Koh Phangan."

"......................................"

Conversation ends. 

Making the most of the interactive art in Bangkok.

I'm so sick of having this exact conversation on a daily basis.  I'm thinking of just having the answers to the questions tattooed across my chest so that when someone starts I can just whip my top off, let them read it and carry on doing what ever it is I'm doing.  The only problem with that solution is that any ladies looking at me would get all flustered.  What was my point? Oh yeah, familiar faces and so on.  Naturally, being away from home for so long has it's down sides.  You miss your friends and family, you miss your home and your mam's cooking, you miss Gregg's pasties, you miss Yorkshire puddings, you miss good pints of ale, you miss the familiarity that you have with your home town and the people in it.  So, having Matt and Karl over for a few weeks was a treat.  They even brought me a selection of Gregg's pasties with them.  Total heroes.  Mind you, whichever one of them decided to bring corned beef needs slapping.  Corned beef?!  Everyone knows that's the worst, by a good mile.  Now, as great as it is having my brother visit us you need to understand that looking after a 17 year old in Thailand is no easy task.  Thailand (Bangkok in particular) is an assault on the senses.  As soon as you step out into the streets it's a whole new world, one that many adults could never dream of never mind a hormonal teenager.  Cheap booze, unlimited drugs, cheap and unlimited sex, crazy modes of transportation, lady boys and all other manner of mind blowing things.  Can you imagine being 17 and being faced with these things? I used to get worked up just looking at Katy Hill's cleavage on Blue Peter when I was a young lad.  Finding the balance between being a boring over protective father like figure who could easily ruin a holiday and an irresponsible big brother who sends his younger sibling home in a body bag is an art.  Some rules were made and enforced.  Some rules that were made were broken.  What can I do? I tried my best and I'm sure both Karl and Matt had the time of their lives, as did we, but I aged about 10 years in three weeks.  How my Mam and Dad mange to control him I have no idea.  We wanted to make the most of their time in Thailand so we aimed to tick off the big hitters.  

• Eating bugs - Tick
• Drinking buckets on Koh San Road - Tick
• Ping Pong Show - Kind of Tick
• Lady Boy Show - Double Tick
• Open water diving course - Tick
• Island hopping - Tick
• Magic mushroom shakes - Tick (unless this is my Mam reading.  In which case no tick)
• Getting the shits - Tick
• Going to 'The Beach' - Tick
• Seeing an actual shark at 'The Beach' - Huge tick
• Fire limbo dancing - Tick

Some of these are the standards, but that doesn't make them any less exciting.  Remember, it's not about being the biggest douche bag traveler with the most 'unique' experience.  It's about having a bloody good time, and a good time we had.  Naturally, nothing is straight forward as I'm sure you've all gathered by now from my previous posts.  Nothing has changed in that department.  Allow me to tell you a little bit about the ping pong show.

Once you go black and all that....

Not seeing a ping pong show in Thailand is like not bothering with the Taj Mahal in India, or skipping the Great Wall of China if you're in Beijing.  You wouldn't do it because when you got home and everyone asked you if you'd seen it you'd have to disappoint them.  You don't want to be the guy who went to Amsterdam and didn't eat the banana out of the old lady's vagina on stage at the sex show....or do you? I can never remember how much I admitted to Laura.  As you can imagine going to see a ping pong show is a pretty seedy thing to do.  You have to go to a seedy area to see it and it's usually full of seedy people.  We've heard a few horror stories about tourists getting hit with a huge bill at the end of the show and then beat up they can't pay the amount or being forced to pay it.  So, we were aware that it might get a little rowdy, but we figured we would keep our wits about us and we'd be fine, we were in a group of about seven people so we couldn't be easily intimidated.  We checked out a few places and turned them down on account of them feeling a little bit too dodgy.  After searching around for a reasonably safe looking place we realized that such a thing does not exist so we had to go with the ruff one.  We agreed drinks prices with the tout on the door (100 Baht per beer and a free show) and sat down.  Our drinks were brought over and to be safe we asked for the bill.  I figured paying up front would rid us of being hit with a big bill later in the night.  The bill hadn't come after a few minutes so I asked again.  I was ignored.  I asked again.  Ignored.  I suggested that we shouldn't start drinking our beers until we had paid just in case the staff did want to slam us.  Anyway the bill never came, only a sign written in English saying that we each owed 300 Baht.  No chance.  As we stood up to leave, a gang of butch Thai women came piling out of a little side door and started ruffing us up.  We were being pushed about and tugged at, the girls were having their hair pulled and for a second, my little brother even averted his eyes from what was going on on stage.  It was scary.  We just huddled together like penguins and shuffled out of the door unharmed (if slightly shaken) and without paying any money.  We couldn't really believe it.  I honestly think that ping pong shows don't exist and that it's just another elaborate Asian scam to get some money out of tourists.  During the time we were in there, there was no sign of ping pong balls anywhere.  There was one fat lady who had had a cesarean pulling a string of flowers out of her.......self.  Not pleasant.  So that was that, our ping pong show outing was a disaster in some ways, but saying as we all got away unharmed I guess we can laugh about it now.

Karl's snorkel was slowly filling up with vomit.

It doesn't take long for Bangkok to take it's toll on you.  Constant scamming and lying, taxi drivers taking you to 20 shops before they take you to where you want to go and more Indians than I can count offering shitty tailor made suits makes it a little hard to swallow.  So, we did what all good travelers do and left.  We jumped on a night bus and headed to Koh Tao.  Koh Tao is a beautiful island on the East coast of Thailand that boasts picturesque beaches and fantastic diving.  A tropical haven and a great place to unwind after spending a few nights in Bangkok.  Me, Laura, Matt and Karl all enrolled on an open water diving course which was excellent.  Koh Tao is really cheap place to dive so why not? The first couple of days went swimmingly (sorry) until Laura started having trouble with her ears.  She couldn't manage to equalize on the way down which could have resulted in perforated ear drums had she continued.  It was a real shame, we had been looking forward to diving together for months.  Our instructor who fancied the pants off her was even more upset though.  Shortly after that Matt fell ill and had to join a different group to catch up on the course which left me with my 17 year old brother, the worst dive partner anyone could wish for.  That boy throws up just looking at the sea.

Sunset on Koh Tao.

During our safety checks I would watch his face turn from tanned to white to green and I knew he didn't give a shite whether my equipment was safe or not, all he wanted to do was chunder.  That didn't fill me with confidence as I was going underwater.  Once we made it underwater Karl also had trouble equalizing but rather then heading back up to the surface he would push through the pain until his nose exploded in his mask and it filled up with blood.  Nice one, now sharks for miles around are on their way over here.  Given all the chunder, blood and lack of attention to life saving details, I thought we'd never get through the course, but, with a little bit of effort we managed and we're now Open Water Divers.  It sounds cool because it is fucking cool. 

One of these is a man.

That wasn't the only exciting thing we did on Koh Tao though.  I say we.....I mean Karl.  I don't know how he does it but he manages to get himself into some crazy situations.  Being dressed in a wig with his shorts pulled up his arse while dancing with a bunch of lady boys on stage in front of a hundred people being one of them.  There is a video somewhere, hopefully I can get my hands on it and I'll post it.  Lady boy's are something else.  There are different levels in the lady boy hierarchy which starts at the bottom with basic cross dressers, passes through to chicks with dicks and ends with men who have boobies and other lady bits.  At the lady boy show one question kept going through my head, and I'm sure it was the same for the other lads in there......Am I gay now?  I promise you that some of these lady boys are unreal.  It's scary.  I'm looking at you and I know you are a man.  The fact that you are a man is no secret.  You're a fit man though, with breasts and long legs and a nice bum.  You're wearing hot pants and dancing all sexy like on stage. Am I gay now?  I figured I'm probably not gay and just a sucker for sexy dancing.  But still, it makes you wonder.

Not "A" Beach.

Another one of the big hitters for travelers in Thailand is to visit "The Beach".  Notice it's not "a" beach but "The Beach", as in the one off the film.  I've got to say it was pretty beautiful, but, like all good tourist attractions in was full of tourists.  And guess which kind made up 70% of us? Yeah, Chinese.  I didn't see any shitty photos being taken but I did notice something else.  They can't swim.  To get to "The Beach" we had to swim about 10m in shallow water and climb through a tiny cave.  Easy.  Not for the Chinese.  They were splashing and drowning all over the shop.  The specialist Chinese orientated tours include little Thai fellas who patrol the 10m swimming section on kayaks ripping struggling Chinese folks out of the water.  It was hilarious.  They were wearing arm bands and life jackets and still couldn't make it to the cave.  My advice is this; if you're looking for a safe bet for the Olympics, bet on a Chinese fella drowning during either the diving or swimming events and I swear it will come off.

Enjoying a little home comfort in Bangkok.

It seems like only two minutes ago the boys arrived here and now they're gone.  It's left both me and Laura feeling pretty homesick.  Since we left home back in January we always knew that Karl and Matt had plans to make it out to see us, and it was comforting.  Now though, none of our friends have plans and we don't know when we'll see them.  On top of that we're getting closer to Australia which feels like a huge move.  We're planning on being there a while and to be honest it feels a bit weird.  No doubt we'll get over it soon.  I tend to look at the weather for Newcastle when I'm feeling down and it usually does the trick.  We keep telling ourselves that nothing will really change at home and that comforts us a little but we know deep down things are changing.  Our friends are graduating and getting jobs, people are moving around, getting engaged and having babies.  If it's another two years before we get back anything could happen.  So a quick word; When we message you and ask how things are going and what you've been up to we want to know the answers.  I have a feeling people don't want to tell us that they had a good night out at the local or went to the cinema because it sounds less exciting than riding elephants or drooling over lady boys.  But it's not.  It's nice for us to hear about things at home and it's nice for us to hear about the things we miss.  So next time, don't come at me with that "Nowt's really happening" chat.  Tell me what you had for dinner or something!

Thailand's waters are swimming with sharks.

Since the boy's left we've managed to get our sleeping pattern back on track (i.e. getting up before noon) and we've done some pretty cool things.  We spent a few days on Riley Beach which an incredible destination for climbing, cliff jumping and generally exploring, either by foot or kayak.  On our first day we opted for Kayak.  We had a bit of sunshine so set off into the sea to explore the limestone cliffs and caves that surround the beaches.  It was awesome.  It may have been more awesome if Laura had understood what her paddle was for, but she never quite came to terms with it so as well as taking in the views I got a pretty good work out.  We managed to get around a few beaches to an area that seemed good for a little bit of cliff jumping.  Nothing too high, but high enough for you to realize that you're in the air for quite some time and belt out a good scream.  Not long after we got back to the kayaks a storm set in.  We tried our very best to paddle through it but it was too much, the wind and rain was battering us and we were going round in circles.  We decided to head for the shore and sit underneath an opening in the cliffs.  It was romantic to be out in such a storm on a beautiful beach for a good ten minutes but then we were just cold and wet.  The storm seemed as though it was in for a while so we had to carry the kayak's back to the other beach which was about 1.5km away.  It's not easy carrying kayaks but I was due some exercise and I'm pretty sure all the ladies on the beach thought I was uber muscular and stuff so it was all good.

Chinese swimmer patrol.

After our Kayak fiasco we decided to explore the beaches and surrounding mountains on foot.  Apparently there was a lagoon somewhere close by so we headed off to find it.  We were told by two travel agents that it was an easy twenty minute walk that could be done in flip-flops. Awesome, lets just do it in the morning before breakfast then.  If only it was an easy 20 minute walk that you can do in flip-flops.  It wasn't a walk, it was a climb.  It wasn't easy, it's was fucking hard.  You can't do it in flip-flops, you need a cable car.  But, once you get there and you're in flip-flops it's easier just to do it then to go back and change into shoes......apart from the part where it definitely isn't easier just to do it in flip flops.  It took us a good hour to make it to the point of the trail where you literally have to descend vertical drops with no harness or safety features of any sort other than some ill maintained rope that someone chucked around a boulder in the 80's.  To reach the lagoon you have to descend three vertical drops.

Some things are not safe.  This is one of them.

Not easy in flip-flops and in pouring rain.  But I'm a lad and lads don't turn back when they're so close to the end, no matter what....at least not until the third descent. After struggling with two shit scary descents and leaving poor Laura behind (she's not good with heights) I decided to call it a day for the fear that I could genuinely hurt myself or worse.  It wasn't worth it.  So, with my tail between my legs I started to climb back up to Laura and head back to the hotel all the while trying to convince myself that I had made the right decision.  No matter what I told myself though I knew I was a pussy.  So, I woke up early the next morning, put on a pair of shoes and went for it again with Pedro (A friend who we are travelling with.  No he isn't Spanish.  No he doesn't have a mustache or a sombrero. Stop being racist.) and we nailed it.  We got to the bottom and to the lagoon.  Surely it was worth it? Surely it was worth risking my life to see this amazing spectacle hidden in the middle of a mountain?  Well, not really.  It was nice, but it wasn't worth my life.  Maybe I had made the right decision first time.  At least I'm not a pussy anymore though.  Boom.

Lessons Learnt Lately;

1. I wish I was still 17.
2. Butch Thai women are bloody scary.
3. There is no such thing as a ping pong show.
4. If you're at the bottom of a mountain wearing flip-flops, it's easier to go back and change into shoes.
5. When dancing under a flaming limbo bar, the biggest cause of injury is a chicken scratch on your foot.
6. If someone tells you that Koh Phangan is there favorite place.  Walk away.
7. Gregg's pasties are by far the best food in the world.
8. Even when your family does your napper in, appreciate that they're there to do your napper in.
9. That shit cray.

Up's and Down's

As I've said a few times, starting a blog is usually difficult.  This time though it's worse than usual.  First off, Laura is in the pool chilling with some friends in the sun (from where I've dragged myself away) and the keyboard I'm using is missing most of the lettering so I don't really know which key is which.  This could take a while...............................oh, that''s the full stop key.

Just a quick one.  Something that I forgot to write about a couple of weeks ago was a peculiar sign that I came across in a hostel.  Now, usually there are hand written signs in hostels that don't make a lot of sense or have hilarious spelling mistakes which turn an innocent message into something entirely offensive. A million times we've been in restaurants where you can order cock.  Not male prostitutes, just misspelled 'coke'.  Disappointing for some I'm sure. That said, a message that we found outside of our room in a hostel in Laos could not have been mistaken for anything else.  The message read "No having sex with children in the rooms".  Take that in for a second.  Usually, making a sign like this is a reaction to something that happened in the past.  It gave me the shudders.  I could only hope that we were not sleeping in a bed where some dirty paedophile had been breaking the laws, loose as they may be in some of these countries.  It's a weird thing to know that all around you weird and often illegal sexual acts are being committed.  It's one of those things that you know is there, but you put it to the back of your mind and try to pretend that in fact it might not be happening.  But, when you have a sign plastered outside of the door to your bedroom, it really makes you think.

We're now in Cambodia after traveling over the Laos border.  We've spent some time in Siam Reap (the home of Angkor Wat), Phnom Penh, a busy and bustling city not too unlike some of the places we visited in India and we're now on the southern coast.  As is often the case, the journey itself provided a little excitement and annoyance.  Just a couple of weeks ago I posted "VIP's"within which I shared our dreadful journey from the North of Laos to Lunag Prabang.  Well, we just encountered an equally as bad but totally different journey to get across the Laos-Cambodia border.  First off, the bus itself cost us $35 each which is roughly our daily budget so that was the first kick in the balls, but only one of many.  In a nut shell, to get from the piddly island we were on to Siam Reap we had to get on one boat, three buses and some sort of tuk-tuk which was just a trailer strapped to a moped.  Now again, this was a VIP service but I didn't hold much hope for that after last time.  The staff organizing the transport and border crossing were....arseholes.  They didn't care for much other than getting the money out of your hand and fobbing you off onto the next rude guy but I can deal with that, I didn't want to make friends with them, I just wanted them to provide what was agreed when we paid.  I'm pretty easy to please.  Everything was going fairly well up to the point that we reached the border.  We had a comfortable bus with air-con (actual air con, not just opening windows) and there was no-one singing shitty local songs on the mic.  Result.  Unfortunately that leg of the journey was only one hour long.

The whole bus annoyance just to see what I'd already seen.

As we were paying massively over the odds, the travel agency were in charge of obtaining our visa's for Cambodia when the time came.  All we had to do was walk across the border with our bags and jump on another bus.  Easy.  As we were walking I was chatting with a friend about how easy this all seemed.  I think the quote was "This has to be the most hassle free border crossing ever".  He had hardly finished saying the words when an almighty 'DONK' resonated across the whole of South East Asia.  Everyone turned to see what had happened knowing that something had whacked into the traffic barrier that separated Cambodia from Laos.  Each person turned to see what had happened and I could see a look of relief on their faces when they realized it wasn't their boyfriend, girlfriend or travel buddy who had just nutted the barrier.  Any guesses what I saw when I turned around? Yep, A weeping Laura holding her head.  How she managed to walk into a bright red and white barrier I have no idea, but it was no time for asking questions.  The poor girl was white as a sheet and swaying like a boxer who had just be caught by Ali's right hook.  If there was a pivotal moment which signified the beginning of a shitty journey, that was it.  After that everything was annoying.  Firstly, the trip was supposed to take 14 hours but ended up more like 19.  And, on the last 4 hour leg of the journey the bus was overbooked so some people had to sit on the floor......at 10pm....after being on a bus already for 14 hours.  FUCK THAT.  The Cambodian fella organizing us all tried to tell me that we would be sitting on the floor.  I'm normally a placid guy who either a) would just take it on the chin and be thankful that I was getting to where I needed to go, or b) politely request that I might instead take a seat.  This time though, after such a day I decided on option C.  Telling the guy to go fuck himself because I've paid 35 fucking dollars to get on this shitty bus so if he thinks we're sitting on the floor he can think again.....Prick.  I felt damn hard at that point but he wasn't fazed and that was pretty much my only argument.  Uber fail.  So, all I could do was to take on the German tourist mindset and push my way to the front of the queue to make sure we got seats which unfortunately meant that some other unlucky people would have to sit on the floor.  I felt pretty guilty in the end but 'what to do?'.
It wasn't only the situations that were stressing me out or getting me annoyed though.  There were some people on that journey that were idiots, and sadly, they were English.  I'm always embarrassed about the way our nation acts in foreign countries.  It's weird, it's as though we have some sort of superior opinion of ourselves, we think that everyone should just bow down and accommodate us.  There was one particular English lad who definitely passed as a Grade A wanker.  He was about 20 years old, had clearly been mothered too much, was probably traveling on an allowance from Daddy and had decided to embrace the 'traveler' look by wearing a raster beany hat and some other stereotypical hippie wannabe attire.  They aren't his worst points either, he argued with every local at any opportunity presented, and he spoke in broken English.  Nothing riles me more than an English person speaking in broken English to try and force their point across to a foreigner.  How will that help?! If a none English speaking person is having difficulty following what you are saying, the last thing to do is to start speaking poor English yourself! That will only make things worse!! Anyway, I don't want to rant too much, I'm still feeling guilty about my last post where I ripped into that Glaswegian fella.  Poor Guy.  Although, I doubt he can read so he'll probably never know.

Full on Indiana Jones stuff.

During out time in Siam Reap I  mainly visited ancient temples and got flipped off by disabled kids.  First, temples.  Angkor Wat is probably the only temple that I actually wanted to see.  It's a huge collection of ruins and temples that sprawl across Siam Reap.  The norm for tourists here is to buy a 3 day pass so that you have enough time to get round all of it but I know my limits so one day was all we opted for. We started early and went straight for the most famous temple first.  Truthfully it was a let down.  It didn't really seem much different from any other ancient temple or ruins that we'd seen.  I was panicking.  How am I going to be able to show interest in this shite for a full 10 hours?! I wasn't, I knew it and Laura knew it.  I tried my best to show interest and take photos of the same things as the other tourists but I was pretty bored. Luckily, as we moved away from this particular set of ruins, things started to get a little more exciting.  Nothing I saw was quite as interesting as The White Temple in Chiang Rai, but as long as I was humming the Indiana Jones theme tune as I walked through the different sections I was pretty happy.  There were some cool sights to be fair.  Huge stone heads mounted high up on the top of temples, trees growing on top of the ruins that had done their part to destroy walls and ceilings, and, a big ass spider on a huge web that I fooled Laura into pretty much walking into.  As I said, I was bored.  In the end I think we managed about eight hours of temples before we called it a day, I was pretty pleased with myself.  I couldn't not do it though, Angkor Wat is one of the most famous ruins/temples in the world.  So now when I get back and people ask me if I seen it I can say yes.  I find myself seeing quite a lot of things for this reason.

I was sat in a bar a few days ago with an American guy that we met earlier in the trip having a casual beer (for 35p) when a young disabled lad came up to us trying to sell us a book.  We didn't really want the book but you feel bad when young disabled lads are giving you the hard sell and telling you that your money will help to send them to school, even if you know it's bullshit.  The lad wanted $5 for the book which is pretty steep.  Remember, a beer is 35p.  Even so we decided to go for it but he didn't have change and all we had was a $10 note.  He said he couldn't do anything with that.  I found three $1 notes which I offered instead but he wouldn't take less than $5.  We went backwards and forwards for a few minutes but it got pretty old pretty fast.  I'm trying to help, I'm also trying to relax and this kid is not working with me at all.  Forget it.  I've tried, he hasn't tried and now I can't be bothered, I don't really want the book anyway.  As we couldn't reach an agreement, we told him that we were sorry but we no longer wanted the book.  He didn't like that much.  He said he was sick of hearing sorry and that people saying sorry doesn't send him to school.  Fiery little lad.  There is only so long you can argue with a 10 year old disabled lad about a book in public.  We didn't want to be particularly mean but we just had to ignore him until he left us alone.  I think this might sound harsh if you're reading back in Europe but if you've been to Asia then you will know that you eventually build up barriers and can become cold towards beggars and such.  Eventually he left but he decided to spend the next 10 minutes or so walking backwards and forwards past where we were sitting flipping us off and mumbling some Cambodian at us.  Cheeky little fucker.  What can you do? If it was a full grown man you could tell him to piss off. Even if it was a young lad you could probably tell them to piss off.  But a young disabled lad with a speech impediment?  I draw the line there.  So our relaxing casual beer turned into us sitting being pretty much bullied and flipped off by a 10 year old disabled lad.  Good times.

A bed used to chain up prisoners.

We only stayed in Phnom Penh long enough to depress ourselves.  The city itself is great, its a kinder, easier version of India which we liked. It had all the same hustle and bustle, just without the smell of shit or Laura shitting herself or guys shitting in the street.  The reason that we were so depressed is that we spent our time looking around S-21 and The Killing Fields.  Let me just give you a quick and easy background; Pol Pot, a crazy Cambodian lad got fed up with his lot after failing his degree in France. Later, after teaching in Cambodia for a bit he got fed up with that too.  So like any level headed fella would he went crackers and decided to take over the country with the Khmer Rouge.  He forced Cambodians into the countryside to work the fields and got rid of any educated folk, people with glasses or anyone who opposed him.  In the three years he was calling the shots he killed an estimated 2.5 million people (the population at the time was about 8 million).  Swell guy.

Faces of those killed at S-21

S-21 was a high school that was taken over by Pol Pot to be used as a prison and torture site for pretty much anyone he fancied throwing in there.  In the three years it was running, an estimated 17,000 people were brutally tortured and killed.  S-21 has now been turned into a museum which displays the meticulous documents that were kept during these years and trust me when I say, it's creepy.  The beds, shackles and torture equipment remain in the rooms where it all happened, often coupled with photographs of the deceased, post torture.  An entire section of a building is used for displaying 'mug shots' that were taken of the prisoners, some as young as 4 years old.  90% of these pictures show the faces of desperate and scared people that stare at you blankly from the past.  Interestingly, the other 10% show some smiling faces.  I don't know what the smiles meant, I can only put it down to an act of defiance from those being photographed.  I have a romantic fantasy that not all of these people were scared and that they were ready to die without giving the Khmer Rouge the satisfaction of hearing them plead for their lives.  I suspect that it's just my way of trying to make the situation seem better.  The methods of torture used in these buildings is beyond comprehension.  To even begin to try and understand what the inmates went through, and, what went through the minds of the torturers as they carried out there barbaric acts is pointless.  I'll never know, or at least I hope I'll never know.  The scariest thing about Pol Pot and his regime is that it happened less than 40 years ago.  I can't understand how something so dreadful happened so recently.  Why was it not stopped? What were we doing at the time? I had never even heard of this until a few days ago.

Not much more to say here.

After our upbeat morning at S-21 we decided to lighten the mood and go to the killing fields.  The killing fields are essentially an extension of S-21, it was the area that prisoners were taken to be executed and dumped.  Again, the fields are particularly unpleasant.  As we walked around the site we found teeth and other remains sticking out of the ground where the pits had once been.  It was sickening.  The whole place seemed to seep pure evil.  Although what we had learnt throughout the day was all difficult to handle, one particular place within the killing field really got to me.  There is a tree within the grounds named 'The Killing Tree'.  The Killing Tree was used for executing babies, they would be picked up by the ankles and literally smashed against the trunk of the tree.  Can you imagine that?  I tried not to.  What kind of person do you have to be to do something like that?  I couldn't stand the thought of it and just writing about it now is making me feel a little sick so I think that's enough of that for now.  It's not pleasant to write and I'm sure it's not pleasant to read.

Just to lighten the mood.  Enjoy us dancing in the
street with a fat lad.

Sorry for ending it on such a depressing note but that's the way it goes I suppose.  There are up's and down's.  Luckily now we've made it to the Southern Coast for a bit of beach time.  We both need to recuperate our energy before that liability of a brother of mine flies out to meet us with our old flat mate.  I can't wait to see them both.  Hopefully our antics during that time will provide for some interesting tales to share.  If we're lucky, they won't be quite so depressing either.










Lessons Learned This Week;

1. I can type without needing the letters to be printed on the keyboard.
2. Angry disabled kids are the worst.  You just have to sit there and take their shit.
3. VIP standards do not exist in Cambodia either.
4. It's easy to get depressed whilst travelling in Cambodia.
5. There is no way I can do the'Pol Pot Saga'justice in just a couple of short paragraphs.

Road Rash?!

I always try to let Laura read my blog posts before I publish them just to make sure I've not been too offensive or crossed any lines.  I like to balance somewhere between a jape and an insult if I can.  I'm trying my hardest to prod fun at every race, ethnicity, country, disability and sexual preference but without actually stepping the boundary into being a racist or gay basher.  I like to think that largely I have succeeded in doing so.  This time though, Laura has warned me that I might be being a little to harsh about some people.  I kind of agree, but what can I do? When Laura shit the bed  I was honest and wrote about it.  If I see something I think is funny, I share it with you.  In the interest of being honest throughout this trip I have to call it as I see it.  If what I see is a fat sweaty Glaswegian fella who makes my skin crawl, I have to say that's what I saw.  I mean no harm.

I honestly thought I looked cool at the time.

Just to give you a quick update, we're still in Laos and we're slowly making our way south into Cambodia. We've been in Luang Prabang (where I last posted), spent a few days tubing in Vang Vieng, went on a boat trip through a 7.5km cave in Ko Long and I'm sat now in......I literally can't remember....somewhere near some waterfalls or something. Anyway, life in Laos is slow.  Slower than anywhere we've been yet and I guess as we see the people around us moving like sloths we've kind of copied them.  It's been a relaxing break.

Our first little bit of excitement was tubing on the Mekong river in Vang Vieng. Tubing in Laos is a right of passage for any traveler in or around the country.  If you were here and didn't do it, you're a loser, or so they say.  Tubing is a big piss up on a river lined with bars where the only way to get from free shot to free shot is on the water in an inflatable tube. Each time you stop at a bar you are encouraged to drink as much free liquor as you can before being directed to diving platforms, zip-lines and tree swings that ordinarily I wouldn't dream of using for fear of hitting rocks in the water but after a few free shots I'm hard as fuck...........and rich, and my banter is superb, and all the ladies love me.  You all know the feeling.  I was dreading it to be honest,  the last thing I wanted was to be surrounded by drunken dick heads acting like, well, drunken dick heads.  I'm not much into that.  Surprisingly though I wasn't surrounded by idiots, the people we met there were some of the nicest we've come across so that kind of made my day.  From what I remember I had a blast, we all did.  I can't remember much mind, here is the just of what I do recall.

• Arrive at first bar, drink shots and beer.
• Float to second bar, drink shots and buckets of Lao-Lao.
• Something about jumping into the water.
• Something about nicking a bar's microphone and announcing free Jagermeister shots for everyone....and getting them.
• Something about capsizing a friends tube in the river and kicking her in the head.
• Something about a monkey.
• Something about dancing about trying to catch butterflies on the riverbank.
• Something about doing a strip tease while pouring beer all over myself.
• Blank.
• Blank.

What was it I was saying about drunken dick heads? You can take the lad out of The Toon but you can't take The Toon out of the lad.

Trying to smile even though two-face is round the corner.

After nursing a day long hang over we then headed to Ko Long Cave.  It's not one of the biggest in the world, I'm not sure if it comes close but it is 7.5km long, pitch black and bloody cool.  I was a little nervous about it, I couldn't stop thinking about flash floods.  I don't know why, I don't even fully know what a flash flood is.  Never mind, the guides navigating the boats will make me feel more comfortable right? Nope.  The guide navigating the boats looked like a bad guy from a horror movie about pirates.  He didn't have a wooden leg and a parrot, he had half a face.  No shit.  Half a face. His jaw and teeth were all over the shop. His was just eyes, then teeth, kind of like a skull.  It was weird. I'm not talking about a hilarious Tommy Lee Jones style two face either.  No.  I'm talking about a scary ass bad guy pirate mother fucker. I'll be honest with you, I'm not mocking the guy, I feel sorry for him and to mock him in any way shows a lack of sensitivity and maturity.  I get that.  But, If you look like a scary pirate mother fucker, do not apply for a job where you have to navigate already nervous tourists into a 7.5km pitch black cave on a boat.  It just seems wrong.  As it happens the caves weren't as scary as I thought they were going to be, it was actually an exhilarating experience and I'd love to do it again.  Next time though let the pirate fella hand out the life jackets or something, don't put him on the boat.  No scrap that, no pirate fellas anywhere near the attraction.

Since leaving England we haven't really met many English (or British) people but a couple of nights ago I had the pleasure of bumping into a Glaswegian chap in the street.  If I say Glaswegian what do you think of?   Well I didn't really have an opinion, I had figured they might be holding some kind of battered Mars Bar or pizza though.  But, this guy didn't have any battered goods so I have egg on my face.  He was however obese and rotund, surrounded by prostitutes, pissed out of his brain and luckily for me, he wanted to be best mates.  Oh, sure, I'll hang out with you, I love hanging out with prostitutes and drunk fat men. Laura and our friends managed to escape his grasp so it just left me and him on a one on one.  Brilliant.  I tried to keep the conversation light but all I could get out of him was "I'm fucking starving man, I need to get some food before I take these girls back".  Wow.  I tried to walk a little faster to see if I could lose him but he explained that he was in agony and couldn't walk any faster because he had road rash.  What the fuck is road rash?! Why are you telling me?! I figured it was some kind of rash that had occurred as a result of his fat thighs rubbing together in the sweltering Laos heat.  If you get to a point in your life where you can't haul your fat ass to a take away to get a pizza because your fat legs are hurting after rubbing together so badly that it pains you to walk, you should not be trying to walk to a takeaway for a pizza.  That should be obvious to even the fattest, dumbest pizza eating Glaswegian.

That bug there is dinner to some people.

It hasn't all been fat Glaswegians and half faced pirates though.  I met the coolest little lad in a guest house in the middle of the Laos countryside.  Right out in the sticks kids have to make their own fun.  I think it's like the old days.  So at night when the sun was down this little lad would turn on a light bulb and wait to attract a variety of bugs that he could catch and eat.  Yep.  Making your own fun.  After about 10 minutes or so of waiting, a beetle the size of a robin flew in and started buzzing around the light bulb.  It sounded like a chainsaw.  He caught it with his bare hands and was pretty pleased with himself.  He brought it to us to show it off but I'm not sure we gave him the reaction he was hoping for.  Instead off applause and high fives, he was offered a screaming Laura running around the table to get away from him.  I managed to pluck up a bit of courage and asked him to put it on my hand.  It's just a bug, and this kid was like seven so how bad could it be? Quite bad actually.  The thing had hooks for feet and as soon as it touched me it hooked itself into my hand.  There was no getting it off.  Now I don't like to make a scene or lose face but I straight up panicked.  Seeing a seven year old boy laugh at me whilst I was pleading for his help was a low moment.  In the end I just had to rip it out of my hand.  It hurt like hell but the bug was worse off.  It had left a couple of legs behind in my hand.  I showed him.  Luckily the creature didn't have to put up with the pain of losing a couple of legs for very long before he was shoved in hot oil and fried.  Kindly, the little lad offered us a bite but we politely refused.  My Mam used to tell me about making your own fun, I never knew this is what she meant.

Laura always goes overboard at Tesco.

After our time in the countryside it was just a case of taking a 20 hour bus ride to where we are now.  No big deal.  As per usual the driver and his mates had a number of side businesses to tend to whilst on the road which included about 50 deliveries of fresh Vegetables.  I promise you that the drivers chilli bags took up more seats than the people.  We were lucky and found a seat but many others had to stand.  Bizarre. The roads in Laos are as dangerous as the rest of Asia and I couldn't help feeling that if we were to be in a head on collision with another bus, the locals could literally just scoop us out and serve us as curry on the road side. We would have been perfectly garnished and spiced.






 Lessons Learnt This Week;

1. Don't believe the Lonely Planet when it states that a bus will take 6 hours.  It doesn't consider drivers side businesses.
2. Don't try to be hard and hold big beetles, you will end up looking like a girl.
3. Don't worry about drunken dick heads ruining your day when in fact you are a drunken dick head.

VIP's

Now then, just a quick formality before we get started.  A couple of things have changed on the blog, or rather, have been added. At the top of this page under the title "Bouling Al Owwa The World" there is a box.  If you stick your e-mail address in the said box and click 'submit' you will automatically get updates from the blog via e-mail.  Nice right?  Also, at the bottom of the post, you'll see a few new icons.  These icons allow you to share the blog directly to your Twitter and Facebook pages.  In other words, it's a lot easier to share the blog with people who I can't pester on Facebook through messages and wall posts.  So, if you feel the need you can forward the blog via e-mail (now that you have all signed up) and share it with your pals via social networking by just clicking the buttons at the bottom of the post.  Give it a bash, hopefully it works!  Formalities end.

This has got to be the best way to get around.

We're now in Laos after our couple of weeks in Northern Thailand.  We ended up staying Thai side of the border for a little longer than we had planned but in fairness we were having a bloody nice time so why not?  We stayed in Chiang Mai for an extra day so that we could jam in one last little adventure in the Jungle and then headed to Chaing Rai to see the White Temple (don't worry, it was actually pretty interesting).  Our jungle adventure was as usual, an amazing experience.  I don't think I'll ever get bored of hanging out with elephants and swimming in lagoons, but, I've already blogged about this sort of thing so I'm going to move on to Wat Rong Khun, better known as 'The White Temple'.

As per usual I could't be bothered to read the guide book to find out what it was Laura was blabbing on about while I was trying to enjoy a relaxing breakfast, but apparently we were heading out of town to see another temple.  Woopdy-fucking-doo.  I don't argue anymore, I just go, try not to complain too much and smile for the photos so that when I post my blogs it looks as though I was having a good time.  This is what always happens, this is what I expected to happen at The White Temple. To my delight, I was wrong.  The White temple is fucking cool.  I'll give you a quick bit of background info;  The temple was designed by Mr. Chalermchai Kositpipa (A fiver says you didn't read his name right first time) who is apparently a well known artist in Thailand.  Again, Laura's forte not mine.  He wanted to design and build a more modern temple that would stand out from the monotonous sea of other temples all over Asia.  I have to give a guy credit where credit is due, I think he pulled it off.  Construction started in 1997 and is due to finish in 2070.  That's pretty annoying, chances are I won't be around to see the finished product, and if I am, I'm likely to be wearing adult nappies and feeling up the nurse as she spoons me medication.  I won't be giving a fuck about temples in Thailand.

Not your ordinary Temple.

Anyway, the part that is finished is beautiful, weird, modern and through my eyes, has more to do with popular culture than religion.  A regular Buddhist temple is covered in images of Buddha, has dragons and shit all over the walls and makes me feel slightly unwelcome.  So what is it that makes The White Temple different? Well, how about a sculpture of the alien from predator climbing out of the ground right outside? How about a painting of Neo from the matrix chilling out with the blue lads from Avatar and Darth Vader (amongst others) that covers one entire wall of the inside of the temple?  How about a pit of doom which includes over 500 hands reaching up from hell?  How about a no smoking sign with hands that hold cigarettes? How about traffic cones designed to look like skulls? You get the point, it's more a large scale work of art than a temple.  We spent a good few hours looking for all of the quirky little bits that made us laugh and I  genuinely had a good time.  Mr Kositpipa, I take my imaginary hat off to you, you created an interesting temple.  Well done lad.  All of that said, I can't help but feel sorry for the monks who have to pray under the watchful eyes of The Sith Lord.  I wonder if it will work?

Laura laughing at my "make the water hot' trick.

After our stay in Chiang Rai we headed over the border to Laos.  To our surprise it was an easy enough process.  We just jumped in a boat with our belongings, crossed the river and boom, we were in Laos.  I felt just like a Refugee en route for England, the only difference being that there was a small formal checking process where we were required to provide a passport and buy a visa.  Other than that though, I'm sure it's the same.  Any who, all was well until we got stuck in the shitty little border town of Huay Xai.  What a place.  It has a population of 3 cockroaches, 4 dogs, 2 cats and one guest house owner who looked as though she was well passed her sell by date.  It was our own fault for not checking the bus times but it was just one of those things.  After spending a boring night and day in Huay Xai, we decided we'd book ourselves onto the VIP bus to Luang Prabang so that we might get a little bit of well deserved luxury.  It was a 14 hour journey so why not?  Let me explain to you what a VIP bus in Laos is.  No, let me first tell you how it was explained to me by the sales person.  It has air-con, fully reclining seats with extra leg room, an entertainment system for playing music and DVD's and is quieter than public buses so provides a better sleeping environment.  Brilliant, sign me up for that.  Now let me tell you what we actually got.  No air-con.  Windows that wouldn't open because the sliding mechanism had rusted shut.  A seat that was constantly in recline because the leaver was broken but that vaulted me forward every time the driver used his brakes.  Shitty local music being blared into my ear from the speaker that was an inch away from my head, until 4am. A woman who decided that blearing music wasn't enough fun at 2am and so decided to sing along to the tunes WITH A FUCKING MICROPHONE for a further 2 hours.  However, extra leg room was provided for the passenger behind Laura as the back of Laura's seat fell apart freeing up an extra inch or so. So there you go, thats what you get on a VIP bus in Laos.

Full of enthusiasm as we set off for the caves.

Luckily the city of Luang Prabang has so far been a bit of a treat.  We've spent the most of our time here eating and relaxing except for a little cycling excursion to a cave today.  It all went pretty well apart from the cave bit.  After enjoying the White Temple so much I decided that I'd have a little glance in the guide book to see if there was anything I fancied doing.  I read about a cool sounding cave that was only a few kilometers out of town.  Nice one, we'll have a nice relaxing ride, explore the caves and get back in time to chill out and have a couple of beers.  Proudly, I explained my master plan to Laura who was frankly too amazed that I was actually making an effort to care about what we were doing or check my plans.  So off we went, on our bikes, with the map.  We ended up cycling for about 3 hours (on a trip that should have been nearer 45 minutes) but I put this down to part of the adventure.  You know, getting lost in paradise and all that.  The mid morning heat got a little overwhelming for Laura so she decided she would sit in a cafe and eat ice cream while I cycled away to find the cave.  Fair enough.  I cycled for a few kilometers further and still couldn't find any sign of the caves or any locals who knew what I was on about.  I decided to go back to meet Laura so that we could re-asses the situation and maybe jump in a taxi instead.  When I got back she smugly asked me if I had found it.  When I told her I hadn't she smiled to herself and sipped on her coke.  Annoyed, I asked her what was so funny.  Just for the record, Laura loves it when I'm wrong, it makes her day.  She patronizingly got out the book and asked me to read the section on the caves again.  I did.  Still nothing.  Knowing that I would never figure out what had gone on she decided to let me in on the'joke'.  Apparently I'd read about the caves in an entirely unrelated section of the book and they weren't actually anywhere near the city we were in.  For fuck sake.  The one time I try to organise something and be a little proactive it all goes tits up.  We never made it to the caves but I reckon that even now as Laura lies blissfully reading somewhere that her smug smile will be wrapped around her face so if nothing else, I made her day.

Lessons learnt this week;

1. Not every temple is boring.
2. VIP means shit all in Laos.
3. I'm no good at organising activities.

Just Like The Good Old Days.

A little culture anyone?

They say that you should never go on holiday to the same place twice.  They say that it will never be as good or that you will be disappointed.  I think for the most part that I believe both of those statements.  That said, coming back to Thailand has always been something I've wanted to do and I think now, five years later, I've probably changed enough to make it interesting and exciting again. For me, this was the place that started it all off, it's the reason I'm on this trip and writing this blog and it's the reason for all of the trip's in between. I realized first time round that the world has plenty to offer, different cultures to learn about, foods to eat, people to meet and that I can experience things that I didn't even know existed during my days of study and work.  Ever since then I've done my best to indulge myself in as much of the world as I can.  For me though, coming back to a country is a first.  I've been aware from far too young an age that life's clock is always ticking and that your batteries could run out at any given moment with or without warning.  So why waste time seeing and doing things that you have already seen and done?! Well, firstly, I had the time of my life here first time around and secondly, I have a better half who has a lust and fascination for seeing and learning everything about everywhere too.  So why not, Thailand has been good to me before and I'm sure it will be this time.

When we touched down in Bangkok I had an instant urge of excitement.  Firstly because the plane hadn't crashed like I was certain it would and secondly because we were about to start another chapter of our adventure.  It's crazy to think that we've been away almost four months and that each time we land in a different country it feels like the first day of our travels every time.  After freshening up we headed straight down to Khao San Road, the first port of call for any traveler in Thailand.  Khao San Road is street filled with bars, restaurants, clubs, shops, massage parlours and hostels. It's also full of dick heads.  Thailand is a notorious party scene and unfortunately attracts some of the people who would usually be in Biggie on a Saturday night but have popped over here to pay for sex with underage girls and start fights.  You know the type, one hand filled with pills and the other occupied with some tarts clunge on the dance floor.  It also seems to be a great place for toff's to blow their daddy's allowance on cheap booze.  Have I gone through the toff thing yet? They're one rank below hippies.  Their idea of a cultured experience is to walk past a beggar on the street and take a photo with them because it's not something you see in Chelsea. Chundering Everywar anyone? Anyway, as we were walking down Khao San Road I could feel the hairs on my neck standing up as floods of memories came back to me.  Nothing to enlightening, just little bits and bobs. I realized that I was going to have to fight the urge to share all of these memories with Laura for fear of boring her and taking away from the experiences we were set to have.  Ooooh, thats where I got drunk, that's where I lost my wallet, that's where I ate some noodles.  That shit will get pretty boring pretty quickly and I don't want this part of the trip to be a competition between this time and the last.

We go to great lengths to get out of the heat.

The heat here has really affected us.  It's 40 during the day and about 35 at night.  You'll all be pleased to know that we have both been shitting our pants and chucking up our dinner on a regular basis, just like the good old days.  Hopefully we will acclimatize soon and will be able to get back to a reasonable pace instead of planning our days around proximity to the nearest long drop.  So far it's been slow, an average day at this point works like this;

• Wake up
• Shit
• Get dressed
• Argue about who is going to use the toilet
• Shit
• Eat breakfast
• Shit
• Possibly see a sight (providing its air conditioned and has toilet facilities)
• Throw up
• Eat dinner
• Shit
• Have a massage
• Shit / throw up
• Go to bed

Not exactly the plan we had in mind but we have to work with what we've got.  I'll be sure to keep you up to date on who shits the bed first.  Statistically Laura is favorite at 3:1. 

Transport in Asia is getting weirder and weirder.

Other than shitting and racing our bodies to see if we can get more water in than sweat coming out (which so far we have not managed) it's been a total holiday here.  We've both noticed how nice the Thai people are but in truth we're having a little bit of difficulty letting our guards down and trusting the locals.  A few days ago when we were walking around aimlessly trying to find a bus station I popped into a cafe and asked lady sitting with some friends if she could point us in the right direction.  She tried her best but couldn't find the English words to get her point across.  Maybe it would have helped if we had had a little slip with a Thai translation on it so she could have smiled and pointed straight ahead.....Maybe not.  It was no problem to us though, it was nice to have her try. As we were walking away she came running over and told us to wait, her husband was going to give us a lift.  Now, in India this would have sent alarm bells ringing. It would mean either we were going to be murdered, raped, beaten up, robbed or at the very least, Laura would have to show a bit of nip before the doors would be unlocked.  No way.  I'm not getting into a car with a random guy in a country I know next to nothing about.  I'm not letting some perv look at my baby girls nips.  We'd be better off walking.  But this helpful lady seemed to have a genuine smile and appeared as though she genuinely wanted to help so we took a gamble and jumped in the car.  Our driver couldn't speak any English and we have no Thai so it was a little awkward just sitting there for the twenty minutes it took but low and behold we turned a corner and there was the bus station.  He drove us in, stopped to ask some locals which bus we needed to get on and pretty much drove us to the bus doors.  Now the awkward moment.  Was I going to have to pay him? How much? Was Laura going to have to show nip? Nope.  He give us a big smile and a lengthy handshake before motioning for us to get on the bus.  What a hero! A genuine couple of people who just wanted to help for the sake of being nice. Being nice for being nice sake has been a pretty rare thing so far during our trip. So, with this in mind, I guess we can let our guards down and start to trust the local people.  Watch this space for forthcoming stories of us getting scammed.

Now, something else that we've noticed is the classic "old fella with pretty young Thai girl" scenario.  It's a weird one but in truth I understand the concept.  Old lonely fellas can come over here to be kept company by young women with the likelihood of getting a happy ending.  The girls get paid, the fella gets laid and everyone goes home a little better off.  At least that's the situation on the surface.  Although I can see the attraction to the idea of a sort of minimal effort for maximum pay off situation, it still strikes me as odd when I see it happening.  And it's not only old fellas either.  We've seen young good looking guys (hello sailor) at it too which has to make you wonder.  They could just go on a night out and pull.  I think for many of these guys the attraction is that they pay for the service and it's easier than summoning the courage to chat up a girl.  Either way, I don't agree with it and it makes me sick to see these old fellas walking around hand in hand with naive (or are they?) girls.  What must these poor girls be thinking? I bet they can make a vodka and coke last for hours knowing that when it's finished they're going back to the hotel to suck a wrinkly.....you know.  As with most things I see and disagree with I have to understand that I can't impose my western ideals or change the world.  It's also ignorant of me to assume that a) the guys are perverted, lonely and sad and b) that the working girls hate their job.  I just call it as I see it and what I see ain't pretty.

The Death Railway over the River Kwai.

Now, it's not all been pants shitting and prostitutes.  Since landing we've visited some amazing places as we've traveled through the North of Thailand.  We've been to Bangkok, Kanchanaburi, Ayutthaya and Chiang Mai, all of which have been, as per usual, amazing.  However, of all the ancient ruins, temples, waterfalls and idyllic scenery the best thing I have seen so far is an all out dancing, hoola-hoop spinning, sit down cross legged harmonica playing elephant.  Yeah, read that sentence again to make sure you take it all in and take time to create a vivid image in your mind of what that actually must have looked like.  If you can't I have a video of said elephant.  These Thai folk sure can train their pets and whether you agree with it or not, you can't take anything away from the spectacle of such a performance.

Anyway, moving away from dancing elephants the next few weeks will see us travel further North into Laos and then through to Vietnam.  Hopefully the pace will pick up again and we will be busy experiencing all that South East Asia has to offer.  I'll be keeping my eye out for the most weird and wonderful things so that I can share them with you.

Lessons learned this week;

1. I have no idea whether I should be using 'Learned' or 'Learnt' for the above phrase.
2. If an elephant has more skills than you, you need to make more of your free time.
3. Thai people might just be honest.
4. It's possible to find a room in Chiang Mai that has a hot shower, TV and swimming pool and only costs five quid a night.