(Posting from Bolivia. Now 6 months in arrears). So in my intense haste I neglected to mention one of the fabulous features of Singapore in my previous entry, Changi Airport. Designed and staffed by people who understand what the average Joe requires out of an airport, its absolutely ideal for when those idiotic flight schedulers decide to inconvenience passengers with ridiculously early take off times. And as my flight to Perth was (well, almost) one such voyage, I decided to attempt the early check in, and spend the night on a massage chair. I´d been drooling over one of these babies since I went to an 'Ideal Home Exhibition' in my early teens (yep, this living it up thang ain´t no recent phenomenon), promising myself that once the massive money that was naturally destined for someone with my copious skills came rolling in, I´d dish out 3 grand on one. I never did - proving what a thrifty but tight git I am. And after I woke up with a killer backache, it´s no longer a priority. Still no matter - time to embark the flight.
You never know what the next few hours have in store for you on a plane, aside from possible DVT and the inevitable ¨Modified for this screen format¨(read no sex and little swearing) films. And every time I clamber aboard, I get giddy with excitement, as I know for at least a few hours the rare and precious commodity of solutide is possible. This time though, I'm plonked next to a (ahem) sizeable, 50 something lady. I detect a furrowed brow underneath the botoxed forehead, and a seething tension in the air. Maybe she consumed a dodgy seafood curry like me in Kuala Lumpur and is still feeling like her shit contains cutthroat razors. Maybe she got caught smuggling a couple of extra liters of vodka over the duty free allowance and got her contraband confiscated. Whatever the case may be - she ain't a happy bunny. Cocking my head and giving a cheeky smile opens the floodgates. And so it turns out what's bugging her is half her life. Here's just a fraction of what she told me. Most of the time I was doubled up in tears. And because I love you all, I´ll intersperse the chat with a few shots of the brilliant west coast of Oz from the air.
"So....You're going to Osstraaleah? Why? Why would you do dis? I've lived in this, this, Osstraaleah for 25 years. 25 years my life has been awful. I HATE it. Anyone with any intelligence would too. They have no culture - except of course the convict culture. That is their mentality. And every 8 year old is a prostitute. For instance, Look at that woman (points to passenger just across the aisle) - that is her third drink in the last hour. No wonder her children look like whores. Look at that skirt.". (Photo - Shark bay I think.
"I haven't known a man in 20 years. 20 Years of living not one specimin has been remotely acceptable. The 1st man was the last man. He put me off for life. Never ever again. The osstraaleahan man is caveman. You know the worst thing about the osstraaleahan man? If he buyz you the drink, he expects the sex. A swiss man would never do this - if he buyz the drink, it is becoz he enjoyz your conversation - he wants to know about you. The sex duzn't cross his mind."
Of course. When not playing about with their fabulous multitools (which I´ve got to say I feel have been surpassed by Leatherman), setting their precise watches (I was salivating over a Nicky Hayden Tissot replica whilst in Changi) and doing their dodgy banking, those swiss men are all about the talking. (Photo - erm..somewhere over WA)
And the primo thing about this little torrent of hatred about an entire continent was she wasn't just addressing me - this went out to the entire cabin, I just happened to be the person next to her who got the maximum volume of this incredible diatribe. When we touched down, this disappointment in the air was palpable. Denied further access to this vitriolic medusa's musings, I left the cabin for immigration, and to go and meet up with my mate Martin. (Photo - Perth from the air)
Btw, here´s all the pics I´m sharing for Western Australia
Perth
Firstly, can I say a very big ¨F**k You¨ (and I´ve decided hence forth to moderate and censor the language in these entries to the equivalent of an episode of Nip/Tuck or The Shield) to the girl at immigration at Perth Airport who stuck the Australia Entry stamp 40 pages into my passport. It was all going so well up to that point with a (beautiful) sequential thing going on. Well, no matter though. It's always great to see a familiar face once in a while when on the go. And break things up a bit from time to time and stay in one place. So Martin and his mum´s extremely kind offer to let me stay at their place for a couple of weeks was just what the doctor ordered. Many, many thanks! Indeed, the West Coast is exactly as Dr Dre described it too. BBQ's every day, driving fancy cars.
Plus, Perth is just stunning. (Perth from Kings Park, where the bird life of interest to ornothologists as opposed to PUA´s is brilliant)
Ask any Aussie bloke whose been there and they'll tell you the same thing. Perth is crawling with ridiculously attractive women. It's both brilliant and tragic, as not many of these ladies are both single and over 20 (i.e. the magic combo for the lecherous late twenty something). It´s like the rest seem to go into hiding or maybe, Perth operates a system similar to Logan´s Run. Who cares?! It´s wealth of cycle tracks (which when we explored showed me just how much I could improve my stamina - fitness still prime though), parks and beaches ice the cake in a delicious manner that leaves you satisfied anyway. Until you go out in the evening and discover trainers & jeans is not an acceptable look. But hey, what do you expect in a city where dog´s have a world class beach to themselves.
And whilst here, seeing as both Glasto and Reading were out of the question for the first time in over a decade, I thought I´d sate my festival thirst for the year and go to the one day extravaganza of Big Day Out. The Line up for the day was very, very impressive (inc Muse, Killers, Tool) but if I can be allowed one complaint, the bizarre two main stage thing (so that the next band starts immediately after the last one finishes) doesn´t really work that well. But concessions have to be made I suppose when on organises such a ridiculously comprehensive line up.
Fremantle and Rottnest Island
Despite being all but been absorbed into the ever increasing entity that is Perth, Fremantle, or "Freo" to those familiar to it retains a distinct charm all of its own. Guidebook quality description eh? Maybe not, but seeing as I was knackered and not really that up for venturing further than 50k´s from Martin´s place I checked it out. And look what i found - that´s right my ornotholist friends, massive pelican´s wander around harassing children. Where´s the mention of that in the Lonely Planet bookworm travellers?
Upon grabbing a fully loaded foot long sub I went for a wander, and stumbled some rich, rich bloke´s car museum near the B-Shed on the harbour side. And hasn´t he done very, very well for himself. By jove, its Allan Jones´ Williams from the 1980 F1 season, you know, the one with the Arabic livery. I remember it well. I was an extremely lucid 2 year old.
And further out from Freo we have ´Perth´s favourite summer playground´ - the fabulous Rottnest Island. As mentioned, hanging about with Martin had got me well back into push biking. And I thought I´d dish out a physiological wonder show of my new found piston like action to the Chinese girl and her mum I spent the day chatting to. With such an incredible display, I genuinely thought I was gonna be snapped up by the mother for her daughter - what with older chinese ladies having an innate wiseness about them, they can spot a catch a mile off. Presumably though, she must have thought that such a toned specimen couldn´t possibly be single so the request never came. Probably just as well, as her daughter was 20. That makes her just outside the acceptable age range for someone with advancing years such as myself (Golden rule is (Age / 2) + 7 es acceptable).
Back in freo, I also went to visit a sadly impotent submarine. I hate myself ... but I can´t resist ... that´s because it´s no longer full of seaman. So, so, so sorry.
On an absolutely 100% serious note, I should also mention what I found out in Perth Museum about what happened to the Aborigines in Australia over the last couple of hundred years. I had a nice day, checking out the art (some of which is brilliant) and then went on to the main display. And my god some of it is utterly unbelievable. Like taking the children away from the family (known as the Stolen Generation) and attempting to breed out the race. And the fact that all this stuff was not even acknowleged until extremely recently (the last 20 - 30 years or so) literally beggered belief. Things are changing though. The sorry book is one such way that the Australian Government and public are at least reconizing what went on.
Uluru and katja Tjuta - click for more pics
Ok. Don't shoot me. I'm just a poorly read, ignorant, blaze tourist who is going to places based on the flimsiest remnants of childhood memories and occasional 5 minute research. "It´d be rude not to check out old Ayers Rock" was one of my main thoughts when booking the ticket. So, with a 4 days spell duly designated months in advance, I turn up. (Photo - Foot thing from the air on the way to Uluru. Nice eh?)
I've no idea where that came from - ah yes: I was meaning to talk about my lack of knowledge on places I'm visiting. I like it. Having no previous idea of the place allows me to look at it with the best of eyes: untainted and full of awe. This is my natural tendency; I hate knowing *anything* about a film, book or TV show before watching, reading or watching it.
So, with all that said, it suprised this ignorant bastard that there's actually a load of other rocks pretty near to Uluru, and they are pretty damn spectacular themselves, the aforementioned in the title Katja Tjuta. Personally, I think the ideal way to appreciate their beauty is to frame them by a couple of Danish girls during sunset. (I´m pretty sure) They were well within the aforementioned acceptability rule.
Alternative beauty can be found at the opposite end of the day; capture the beauty early in the morning before walking the haunting ´Valley of the winds´. And having some annoying bloke walk with you telling you ´Oh you´ve got to go to Cape Tribulation´ all the time. Ok then!!
Of course Uluru itself is no disappointment. And nor am I, let me tell you right now ladies.
What´s that I hear you say? My mug is blocking one of the most incredible natural features on god´s earth? Oh go on then, here´s some more photo´s.
Out of respect to my Aboriginal homies, and the landscape itself, I´d never have even considered climbing the rock. It´s certainly no challenge for a person of prime fitness anyway. But many people do. However, when I was there, they didn´t have a choice. I will say though, that the restriction on taking photos at certain parts of the rock because those parts are sacred did get my goat a bit. After all, it´s just a photo!
We´ll finish with an untarnished view of Uluru by Sunset. Those of you with an observant inclination will no doubt notice the difference in colour from the one with my face in front of it.
Cairns
So I´m in queensland (click for pics).As I may have alluded to in a previous entry, I've been suffering for the past year coming to terms with a disturbing problem. You see, I've recently discovered that, face on, I'm not actually that bad looking (in profile I still look a cock), thanks to the miracle of daily disposable contact lenses. I've stunned even myself with my chiseled looks on more then one occasion, and vanity in recent times. Bear in mind this has followed years of self loathing - too short, too ugly, too four eyed - so you'll allow me a bit of self appreciation.
So, given that I made this breakthrough, it's natural I'd want to explore a few things. Starting with growing my hair again. Not ridiculously long - just a tad longer than the number 2/3 I've grown accustomed to for a decade. It's not a big ask. However, nature will always act to counterbalance such things - and this time, the scales have weighed in with the heavy price of male pattern balding.
Yes, the universe can be a real bastard.
Especially when the rest of me is placed under even the most lazy scrutiny. Hair continues to grow in the most obscure places in gay abundance, but steadfastly refuses to come back on the most natural place of all? Maybe this is it - my raison detre - a phenomenon deserving serious study. In the mean time, I'm going to have to keep on shaving my head.
Now, why did I start of on that? Well, its because Queensland, a place of capricious conditions, is a land of backpackers a plenty. And they're young'uns. They have no such problems with their hair, and somehow, even the most odious characters can seemingly be having luck. Especially down by the lagoon.
Lets get back to Cairns though.
I liked it round here. I liked the lagoon by the hostel. I liked the fitness machines all the way down the esplanade. I liked the free barbeques everywhere. I liked the girls who worked at the hostel, especially the Aussie girl whose (frankly stupendous - we are talking Keeley Hazell standard) breasts convinced me to shell out a not inconsiderable amount of cash on tours. Yes, I am a weak, weak man. However, not one to be completely duped, every single one of these turned out to be pretty damn good. And hell, I´ll allow myself to be a lazy tourist sometimes too.
Here I met up with a girl from Chicago called Kim who I had met a few days earlier at Uluru. Lovely girl. After checking out the zoo earlier in the day (absolutely excellent for a zoo), we went out to see the sights one evening and ended up in some bar where I entered a contest to win a Bungee Jump. At the time this was my ideal prize, but stay tuned for the NZ South Island entry which will detail my opinions on so called extreme sports. Anyway, to win this, you had to persuade a goldfish to swim the length of a trough and back again by blowing near to it with a straw. And beat the other chap trying to do the same. I´ve always known one of my main talents lied as a talent spotter, so I wasted no time in snapping up the Aussie goldfish. All was going well. Straight through Round one no probs. Semi Final posed no problem. It was only in the final that the fishy thorpe decided to turn around and swim the other way, with no amount of gentle nudging on my part able to change his opinion. Little Bugger!
Green Island
Tour Number one took me to, and close to, Green Island on a marvellous boat which I hope was called Ocean Free, because the guy on it told us to spread the name far and wide as they live or die by word of mouth alone. This tour involved snorkelling on the Great Bareer Reef, a trip to the green island and absolutely masses of food, which I duly chomped down like the pig I am. It´s now pretty clear that whilst I have the appetite of the much missed Rick Waller, I have the metabolism of Jessica Alba. Despite my initial concerns over my lack of ability to swim, this soon proved unfounded as I was handed a natty floatation device. And under the sea was incredible. I decided to have a go at a 30 minute dive too. If you haven´t dived before, it really is bloody excellent. Just wish I had sprung for the underwater camera now. Never mind, the pic shown clearly shows a relation of Irwin´s Killer that I got near the island itself.
Ah yes, the next day tour I went on was a trip round the Uncle Brian´s tour. Highly entertaining, even when in a cringe worthy way, it was again worth the cash, even though I really really wanted to get a motorbike and look round myself. That would however have worked out much more pricey sadly. The highlight of the tour for me was a pilgrimage to that most holy of places. The ´Peter Andre myseterious girl´ waterfall. Very, very pretty. but we didn´t get to see a duck billed platypus. A shame, but what can you do?
Cape Tribulation
The Daintree Reainforest. If taking a tour up there, you´ll be notified ad nauseum that you are entering 'The Oldest Rainforest in the world'. Now where have I heard that before? For F**k´s sake!! Can´t all you tourist information mofo´s accept that millions of years ago most of the world´s land was joined together. You´ll also get some other excellent advice though on how to deal with the Cassowary. Which, if you´re a german girl on the same bus as me, you will soundly ignore.
So I went up to Cape tribulation as the breasts, not the prick convinced me it would be worth my time. It wasn´t the greatest weather whilst there, but what can one do when within the confines of the tropics? I was however highly pleased to discover that lemony refreshment plus a sharp sting comes courtesy of licking the arse of the pictured ants. Es Muy Bueno!
Beautiful rainforest, but dull and overcast. Though I did hang out with an excellent swiss guy, Pascal who confirmed to me that swiss blokes are not the paragons of virtue the banshee had claimed, and a german korean girl who was muy sexy in a german-korean way. Myself and Pascal ended up sharing our dorm on the 2nd night with a couple of really, really fresh faced English girls, where he impressed soundly with a berilliant card trick that I myself have now memorised for my pathetic repetoire. In the list of great animal attacks, a Cassowary rampage has to be up there, so the aforementioned german girl who saw one and clicked herself into a sharp kicking was one lucky lady. Fortunately she was ok, and more importantly so was the cassowary.
When we went on the Bush Tour, my natural posing ability came to the fore. I was on such a modelling high I even tried a durian.
Oh yeah, and I had an excellent burger on the way back to Cairns to at Port Douglas.
Kuranda
Just prior to taking this - my self proclaimed best photo ever - inside rainforest near Kuranda I saw my first, and sadly only wild snake of my time in Oz. And a Red bellied black snake no less - number 25 on the list of the worlds most venomous snakes.
OK, i need to catch a bus to Copacabana. This hurried rubbish ending to the time will be improved later. If you can read this, you should read again later.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Malaysia and Singapore
Malaysia
Lets try and finish this off before I get a full continent in arrears. It's not gonna be the greatest piece of literature ever. But I leave New Zealand this afternoon, so it'd be good just to have the whole of Oceania to write about when I get to South America.
So, South East Asia. Here's the classic route most people take; Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Thailand, and straight down to Singapore. Malaysia, for some reason is usually skipped. With 2 weeks in my pocket and an internal raging to see why a whole country is seemingly so undesirable, I entered this fine place in a plushly decked out Bedford Rascal.
It's a fabulous vehicle - I've always been a fan. And thankfully, as you enter Malaysia, its somewhat reminiscent of those 2 ridiculous straights at the Sepang GP circuit - that's the track with the oversized, upside down cocktail umbrella's at either end (see trophy from Pewter museum in KL). My love of bikes has left me with a seething dislike of straight roads - a true crime against nature. Those people not au fait with bikes think we just lurve going fast in a straight line - nothing could be further from the truth - it's the twisties that get the juices flowing. The Rascal though always looks like it's gonna roll if you turn the wheen more than half a degree, so perhaps these were for the best.
Penang
Ok - I should have learned last year that the best thing to do with a wet digital camera is to stop being a scenery whore, put the camera away and let it dry for a day. It should be obvious from the previous sentence that this wasn't a lesson learned then, and sadly my beloved Ixus 50 is no more. Fortunately, savvy consumer and consumate negotiator that I am, I'm now the proud owner of an Ixus 60 (same batteries etc) which I bargained down to a decent price in a store here.
Malaysia's favourite Island playground is reached from a *massive* bridge from the mainland. Quite an impressive feat of architecture, and having spent the last 10 years in Bristol, my palate has been refined considerably to appreciate such things. You gotta love Isambard Kingdom Brunel. You can see the bridge - look, the last shot on the Ixus 50 :-(
But despite such a succulent view, Georgetown, the main town in Penang is a bit of a hole in all honesty. But it does provide the tone for the rest of your trip to here. There's three main communities throughout Malaysia, and all are thoroughly well represented here. Malays, Chinese and Indians.
And what it amounts too, as far as I can see is a lot of discontentment on some parts, because the feelings are that certain parts of society are favoured, and everyone's stuck in their roles. At least that's what people seem to think. Me, I thought all the people here were really nice and pleasant, from who I met anyway - people have just got to open their minds a bit and stop thinking things that don't exist.
So what does this mean for the foreign food consumer. Well, I reckon these three have a little competition going on to see who can step up to the plate the highest. And what happens when this happens? The fat tourist wins!
Consume shellfish, curry's, vege meals, hawker food, pastel de naja's (for their appears to be a little bit of portugese stuck here too) god - it's bloody good here.
Penang's also damn good for splashing out on slightly more upmarket accomodation, as you don't really need to splash out. On my 2nd day here, I met a dutch girl, Marpessa, who was also feeling that our slightly shitty hostel could be easily be disposed of in favous of more regal surroundings for an evening - and so we did. I love the dutch. And plush the room was. So she's an intriguing girl, and good company, so after spending a few days here we headed off to the....
Cameron Highlands
Who'd have thought that a Tea plantation would be a thing of rare beauty? Not me.
If Penang is the beach bums hangout, then Cameron Highlands is the location of choice for the slightly more discerning Malay.
And then I saw this massive millipede whilst going for a walk. Later in my travels, I'd discover the truth about this millipede; it's highly poisonous. I watched a brilliantly enthusiastic 14 year old guide get berated by his arsehole boss in the Australian Venom Zoo. The millipede had secreted his poison on the kid, and he (rightly) rushed off to wash his hands. On returning, his boss threatens to fire him for deserting the customers. What a dick.
I met an interesting man whilst here - an aussie OAP lush who, on arising at 3pm declared to me that "the good thing about drinking was waking up, feeling shit and the day just improving from then on". Wise, wise words.
Taman Negara
Unfortunately, what with a tropical downpour at all, my planned arrival into the 'Worlds oldest rainforest' (© Malaysia tourist industries) - Guns'N'Roses blaring, arriving by chopper sharing dirty jokes with a bundle of lads was called off. Perhaps I've watched Predator too many times. Nah - how can that be possible? - it's got to be #5 on the list of Schwarzennegger's best work, which means it's in the top 10 films ever made. Arriving solo by bus wasn't quite the same as laughing about big pussys in helicopters. Still never mind.
Well, having disposed of my hiking boots for being too small, I was in need of an alternative. Those crazy Malays know exactly what's necessary. A pair of fabulous canvas boots, cost to hire about 2 pence. And they looked hot. And after doing so, whilst wandering around the jungle wondering whether the growl was my stomach or a tiger (if only - eaten by tiger/shark/barbed by stingray related death has to be the way I want to go. Sounds a lot better than "He died in his sleep"), I met a lovely girl doing similar. So we decided it might be nice to spend the night in a supposedly rat infested hide doing our best to spot big cats in relative safety.
And on our way to the hide we decided to crawl past through a cave full of bats.
And having someone else there provides me with an excellent perspective of just how damn big some of the trees get here.
So when we got there, we weren't totally alone. And naturally, we saw absolutely jack shit. But the sounds were extraordinary, but dear reader I can't provide you with those. I also completely destroyed a pair of trousers on the way, ripping from the knee to the crotch. Just call me Roberto Carlos. There's a 50% chance that on any given day that I'll be commando, as washing machines seem to have eaten my underwear. (Un?)Fortunately for Tamsin, this was a pant wearing day
So what other delights await you in the Malaysian jungle? Well there's the worlds highest Jungle walkway. Which is nice.
And for all those James Gandolfini fans - don't mourn the loss of the show - it lives on through bizzare graffiti in rainforests.
And so it was time to depart - we hot footed it from the hide as early as poss, but took a wrong turning which meant I got there seconds before departure. But, unlike some highly strange guy I had met a couple of nights before who prided himself onhaving worn the same T-Shirt everyday for 2 weeks, I needed a shower. Those accomodating chaps waited, and off I went down the river to ...
Kuala Lumpur
Another love it or hate it city according to those who have been there. With my sunny disposition (I haven't been anywhere I didn't find something attractive about), I absolutely loved the place. Stayed a few nights with my very kind Uncle and Aunt. Nice to have some home comforts for a few days.
The 3 high things are the signature marks of modern Kuala Lumpur. Shame Taiwan, and soon Dubai will have kicked the living shit out of sub 500m buildings. So passe.
But they sure are pretty.
Although I spent For the 1st night in Kuala Lumpur though I stayed in a hostel - and I'm damn glad I did, otherwise I'd never have seen this unbelievable article in Zoo. Have a gander at the comparison chart for Kylie and Olivier....you may need to open the "large size".
There are some fabulous paintings inside batu caves. Well worth a look.
Singapore
My preconceptions of an Asian Jetson's set were quite wrong.
I had a shocking case of food poisoning so didn't feel like doing much. Hung around with a Chinese American girl who wanted to spend the day trying to take the same photo of the city as in the Lonely Planet - these travellers know how to live it up! Should have gone to watch the MotoGP practice sesh in KL.
Very pretty city by night.
And you've got some strangely explicit hostel rules - "You think it's joke? Some american girls did this - on my floor. But I have camera!"
Lets try and finish this off before I get a full continent in arrears. It's not gonna be the greatest piece of literature ever. But I leave New Zealand this afternoon, so it'd be good just to have the whole of Oceania to write about when I get to South America.
So, South East Asia. Here's the classic route most people take; Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Thailand, and straight down to Singapore. Malaysia, for some reason is usually skipped. With 2 weeks in my pocket and an internal raging to see why a whole country is seemingly so undesirable, I entered this fine place in a plushly decked out Bedford Rascal.
It's a fabulous vehicle - I've always been a fan. And thankfully, as you enter Malaysia, its somewhat reminiscent of those 2 ridiculous straights at the Sepang GP circuit - that's the track with the oversized, upside down cocktail umbrella's at either end (see trophy from Pewter museum in KL). My love of bikes has left me with a seething dislike of straight roads - a true crime against nature. Those people not au fait with bikes think we just lurve going fast in a straight line - nothing could be further from the truth - it's the twisties that get the juices flowing. The Rascal though always looks like it's gonna roll if you turn the wheen more than half a degree, so perhaps these were for the best.
Penang
Ok - I should have learned last year that the best thing to do with a wet digital camera is to stop being a scenery whore, put the camera away and let it dry for a day. It should be obvious from the previous sentence that this wasn't a lesson learned then, and sadly my beloved Ixus 50 is no more. Fortunately, savvy consumer and consumate negotiator that I am, I'm now the proud owner of an Ixus 60 (same batteries etc) which I bargained down to a decent price in a store here.
Malaysia's favourite Island playground is reached from a *massive* bridge from the mainland. Quite an impressive feat of architecture, and having spent the last 10 years in Bristol, my palate has been refined considerably to appreciate such things. You gotta love Isambard Kingdom Brunel. You can see the bridge - look, the last shot on the Ixus 50 :-(
But despite such a succulent view, Georgetown, the main town in Penang is a bit of a hole in all honesty. But it does provide the tone for the rest of your trip to here. There's three main communities throughout Malaysia, and all are thoroughly well represented here. Malays, Chinese and Indians.
And what it amounts too, as far as I can see is a lot of discontentment on some parts, because the feelings are that certain parts of society are favoured, and everyone's stuck in their roles. At least that's what people seem to think. Me, I thought all the people here were really nice and pleasant, from who I met anyway - people have just got to open their minds a bit and stop thinking things that don't exist.
So what does this mean for the foreign food consumer. Well, I reckon these three have a little competition going on to see who can step up to the plate the highest. And what happens when this happens? The fat tourist wins!
Consume shellfish, curry's, vege meals, hawker food, pastel de naja's (for their appears to be a little bit of portugese stuck here too) god - it's bloody good here.
Penang's also damn good for splashing out on slightly more upmarket accomodation, as you don't really need to splash out. On my 2nd day here, I met a dutch girl, Marpessa, who was also feeling that our slightly shitty hostel could be easily be disposed of in favous of more regal surroundings for an evening - and so we did. I love the dutch. And plush the room was. So she's an intriguing girl, and good company, so after spending a few days here we headed off to the....
Cameron Highlands
Who'd have thought that a Tea plantation would be a thing of rare beauty? Not me.
If Penang is the beach bums hangout, then Cameron Highlands is the location of choice for the slightly more discerning Malay.
And then I saw this massive millipede whilst going for a walk. Later in my travels, I'd discover the truth about this millipede; it's highly poisonous. I watched a brilliantly enthusiastic 14 year old guide get berated by his arsehole boss in the Australian Venom Zoo. The millipede had secreted his poison on the kid, and he (rightly) rushed off to wash his hands. On returning, his boss threatens to fire him for deserting the customers. What a dick.
I met an interesting man whilst here - an aussie OAP lush who, on arising at 3pm declared to me that "the good thing about drinking was waking up, feeling shit and the day just improving from then on". Wise, wise words.
Taman Negara
Unfortunately, what with a tropical downpour at all, my planned arrival into the 'Worlds oldest rainforest' (© Malaysia tourist industries) - Guns'N'Roses blaring, arriving by chopper sharing dirty jokes with a bundle of lads was called off. Perhaps I've watched Predator too many times. Nah - how can that be possible? - it's got to be #5 on the list of Schwarzennegger's best work, which means it's in the top 10 films ever made. Arriving solo by bus wasn't quite the same as laughing about big pussys in helicopters. Still never mind.
Well, having disposed of my hiking boots for being too small, I was in need of an alternative. Those crazy Malays know exactly what's necessary. A pair of fabulous canvas boots, cost to hire about 2 pence. And they looked hot. And after doing so, whilst wandering around the jungle wondering whether the growl was my stomach or a tiger (if only - eaten by tiger/shark/barbed by stingray related death has to be the way I want to go. Sounds a lot better than "He died in his sleep"), I met a lovely girl doing similar. So we decided it might be nice to spend the night in a supposedly rat infested hide doing our best to spot big cats in relative safety.
And on our way to the hide we decided to crawl past through a cave full of bats.
And having someone else there provides me with an excellent perspective of just how damn big some of the trees get here.
So when we got there, we weren't totally alone. And naturally, we saw absolutely jack shit. But the sounds were extraordinary, but dear reader I can't provide you with those. I also completely destroyed a pair of trousers on the way, ripping from the knee to the crotch. Just call me Roberto Carlos. There's a 50% chance that on any given day that I'll be commando, as washing machines seem to have eaten my underwear. (Un?)Fortunately for Tamsin, this was a pant wearing day
So what other delights await you in the Malaysian jungle? Well there's the worlds highest Jungle walkway. Which is nice.
And for all those James Gandolfini fans - don't mourn the loss of the show - it lives on through bizzare graffiti in rainforests.
And so it was time to depart - we hot footed it from the hide as early as poss, but took a wrong turning which meant I got there seconds before departure. But, unlike some highly strange guy I had met a couple of nights before who prided himself onhaving worn the same T-Shirt everyday for 2 weeks, I needed a shower. Those accomodating chaps waited, and off I went down the river to ...
Kuala Lumpur
Another love it or hate it city according to those who have been there. With my sunny disposition (I haven't been anywhere I didn't find something attractive about), I absolutely loved the place. Stayed a few nights with my very kind Uncle and Aunt. Nice to have some home comforts for a few days.
The 3 high things are the signature marks of modern Kuala Lumpur. Shame Taiwan, and soon Dubai will have kicked the living shit out of sub 500m buildings. So passe.
But they sure are pretty.
Although I spent For the 1st night in Kuala Lumpur though I stayed in a hostel - and I'm damn glad I did, otherwise I'd never have seen this unbelievable article in Zoo. Have a gander at the comparison chart for Kylie and Olivier....you may need to open the "large size".
There are some fabulous paintings inside batu caves. Well worth a look.
Singapore
My preconceptions of an Asian Jetson's set were quite wrong.
I had a shocking case of food poisoning so didn't feel like doing much. Hung around with a Chinese American girl who wanted to spend the day trying to take the same photo of the city as in the Lonely Planet - these travellers know how to live it up! Should have gone to watch the MotoGP practice sesh in KL.
Very pretty city by night.
And you've got some strangely explicit hostel rules - "You think it's joke? Some american girls did this - on my floor. But I have camera!"
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Thailand - charting highly discovered territory
Thailand
So here I was in the heart of backpacker land - cheap, laid back, blissful days roll by in a haze. The land of smiles. Where if you're lugging round your shit on your back, as opposed to rolling it along in a suitcase you're not a tourist, but a traveller. Only, I think the locals see it rather differently - and it's therefore the perfect place for me to go off on one about the sub-culture of the so called traveller.
But first, lets get the touristy stuff out of the way.
There's two sides to Thailand (there may be more, but we'll talk from my blinkered black and white view), so I'm going to break down my thoughts separately.
1) the Good:
Visuals - God, its an extremely beautiful place. It's like scenic porn in places. Like I guess most of Asia, Africa, South America etc must be that makes you realise how lucky you are to be able to go and visit there when the vast majority of local people here work for amounts that in terms of global buying power is absolutely Jack Shit.
Cuisine - The local food is stunning and cheap, although no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get a dish hot enough to blow my head off, despite my protestations to any waiter/waitress that I have indeed been blessed with an aspestos lined mouth, capable of handling any amount of spice you're prepared to throw at me. A meals not a meal unless I'm dripping in my own sweat after consuming it. I want warnings on my food that tell me to avoid contact with skin. Chili powder is like a cheap high for me. By the way, if you ever want to buy me a present - number one on this list would be very gratefully received.
2) The bad
The hassle during the day - Walking genuinely is a foreign concept over here as you can't seem to take 2 steps without being accosted by a tuk-tuk/taxi/motorbike wanting to take me 10 metres down the road - "Where you go? - You walk? Ohhhh no that very far - i take you - 70 baht". And the traffic in the cities, my god. People blame the yanks for their insatiable fuel consumption, and there's no doubt that's true. But when you look at the amount of vehicles in Bangkok (and most of Asia), and the distinct lack of pedestrians, you'd have to conclude that they're also doing their level best to wipe out the world's remaining oil supplies too. I honestly can't believe we haven't run out already.
Unwanted advice/scams - this was an absolute constant in any city. I think I damaged my ears and accentuated my stoop even further as the only way to get away from it seems to be to stick in headphones and look at the floor. And special mention to the woman in the TAT office who told me that I literally "have" to book everything through her, as its peak season and if I show up at the train station or any hostel, there will be no room anywhere. Obviously bullshit, but when I politely told her "I need a bit of time to think about it" she literally told me to fuck off and stop wasting her time. All I went in for was to buy a map.
Charging "foreigner" prices - to get into places like National Parks just doesn't seem right (though I've now seen it in Australia too, though less frequently) - or at least it isn't done in a fair way. But I do feel unbelievably lucky that I can do a trip like this - it's something that most people living in these countries could never do, which is really upsetting, so I guess a few extra pounds spent here and there is OK. So yes, if you want to do anything else apart from eat, sleep and sunbathe, it'll cost ya quite a bit here - certainly proportionally to everything else it seems like a fortune. Hell, if you do just wanna do that though, its faultless!
Bangkok -
Now here's the wierd thing. By the time I had been there twice, I liked Bangkok a lot. Once I learnt to embrace the hassle during the day, I really did love the grimy, seedy nature of this place, and although my prudish, moralistic core values ensure I'd never indulge in any of the "extra curricular activities" on offer myself, I find it fascinating that so many people do. And it seems like the done thing with very little embarassment. It's incredible the number of blokes here who've sampled the Thai delights, and thats the younger chaps. There's clearly no such problem with the older generation visiting here - who are here for one purpose and one purpose only. And they do it with sugh flagrant relish that the jaw just drops. I guess the other reason I liked it was the fact I met the girls I had been dreaming of - yep - Finnish! I think i must have nearly exploded when the lovely Polina told me where she was from, certainly judging from the reaction of the two other chaps who were there. And I'm sort of disappointed in myself I didn't go down to the islands with her too.
I'm always up for a bit of sprawling on a bench - so was this lazy git at the golden mount.
You'll get a lot of Tuk-Tuk drivers, 'helpful' locals and dodgy geezers all telling you every place is shut. Wat Po is probably the highlight temple of Bangkok, at least for me. Here's the reclining buddah, plus Hilary Swank circa "Boys don't Cry'.
Lopburi -
Famed for its proliferation of Monkey's, Lopburi makes an easy stop over on the way up to Chiang Mai. Except there didn't seem to be any good places to eat open the night I was there, forcing me to go to KFC.
Sukothai -
I only spent a night here, and can't remember very much about it except for the fact I got a pillion ride (sadly not slang for doing the nasty, which i guess is slang itself, but a lift on the back of a motorbike for those of you not in the know) of a hot Thai chick.
Chiang Mai -
The hostel owner, Pong at Spicy Thai backpackers is a lovely chap, and the place is plush as hell. Stay there. The only thing I would tell you is don't get stuck with a lazy indian girl who decides to shadow you, and demands to be chauffer driven on a trek, probably in case she get's tanned further ("Cos then I won't look beautiful"). I also experienced the rare joy of a Thai massage on this trek, which leaves you feeling worse then when you started, after having your hamstrings forced to an extent that leaves me with a newfound respect for little Michael Owen, given his problems.
I'm disgusted with myself. I had learned in Goa last year that elephant rides are probably the best thing you can do if you have a desire to feel like killing yourself from extreme guilt afterwards. It was part of the trek, which I wouldn't have booked if i had known that this was to be on it. But once there I thought, hell maybe it won't be as bad. It was. I wanted to grab the elephant handlers stick, beat him over the head with it, whip the backs of his legs and then stuff it so far up his arse it would provide him with a new rod for his gullet, but I was restrained by the aforementioned girl who seemed to enjoy cruelty. Still, that's Jake, who I met there too in the photo - a great lad who also was trying to escape the clutches of this ignorant, awful excuse for a person, so at least we both had some decent company (i hope!).
Still, did get some nice scenery when we did get to walk all of 100 meters.
Katchanaburi -
Ah, the infamous Bridge over river Kwai. Well worth visiting the museum here, to get a completely different perspective on the 2nd world war. The Hiroshima peace museum, whilst undoubtedly very, very moving and entirely correct in showing the fact that a nuke should never be used, hadn't given me enough background on what Japan's actual tactics were in the 2nd World War. This did, and the bridge is one of the results of the appauling treatment of people all over this region, which is why some innocuous bridge is so famous. Whilst here, I met a couple of English girls with a really weird plan for their 5 months in South East Asia - spend 4 days out of 5 in the guesthouse/hostel, and ration themselves to one day out a week. It's curious how some people's brain works. However, they were both gorgeous and quite sound apart from their tendency to procrastinate, so I'll let them off.
Here's one for the lads, seeing as I got complaints for having no pictures of women last time. Some russian girl contemplating another dip in number 3 of 7 splash pools at the Erawan Waterfall. Stunning scenery.
And here's number 5 I think.
Hua Hin -
I had planned to stop off somewhere else, but, after 6 hours on the bus that day, my back decided against it. this incredibly touristy little seaside town didn't really appeal - although the free pool at the place I stayed for the night certainly did.
Krabi
on the way down here it was an 8 hours bus ride, with all 3 Thai dubbed Fast n' the furious films on show, and some guys birthday meaning they force fed me whisky and dried insects. Supeer! Only spent a night here, and met a really nice, but taken girl from Melbourne with whom I subsequently went to...
Hat Ton Sai -
Which is a world class climbers beach. I did a little bit, but had most fun when going for a bit of a climb myself on the free ropes between Railay East and West, down to the lagoon. Here i scratched up my eye pretty damn badly whilst wearing contacts on the beach - giving myself a self diagnosed corneal abrasion. Hung out for a while with some great Kiwi guys who liked a toke, but naturally I didn't indulge at all. I also spent New Years eve chatting up a Canadian girl who was rightly enchanted with the beauty of the place, and with my sterling conversational skills. That was of course, until some gorgeous (well, he was!) Aussie climber bloke came along and stole her away - and I couldn't dispute his skills were exceptional. Oh well, my optical concerns still left me with a unique fireworks display to wonder at - every flare had a halo and every explosion looked like loads of glistening stars, so I was satisfied that I got a pretty outstanding show too.
This place was too pretty. Here's some old school beach farming.
It's pretty damn difficult to take a bad photo.
Ton sai again
Trang -
Stopped off here on the way down to Malaysia, and it reminded me of newmarket. Went to visit the eye doctor here - a lovely chap who was highly impressed with my powers of self diagnosis. All good now by the way. Also met a guy who had become addicted to the sex tourism industry - poor bastard just couldn't resist and he spent the whole evening dithering over what to do, how he just can't stop and using me as a sounding board to try and convince himself not to give in again. Later that night, his dick won.
So, its weird. I spent a month here, overall had an excellent time, but I left with the nagging feeling I'd been a bit ripped off. According to my bank statements, I've just worked out I've spent about 1300 baht (about 20 quid) per day. Most people I know are attempting to survive on about 700. Now, from observation there's no doubt I have the appetite of at least 5 gap year students combined - I don't go skimping on the food. So i've been spending similar amounts of cash as in Japan - which when you think about the way this place is lauded as the ultimate (cheap) backpacker destination, is a complete joke.
So back to traveller culture. But maybe not as much as I could write. I was gonna do that, I really felt like ranting so much when I was actually in Thailand, thanks to people that you meet there who seem to think they're on a voyage of spiritual enlightenment. And when you point out that:
1) Everything's set up for you here - the whole country is Tourism.
2) The majority of the locals speak pretty good English if you have some patience and unclog your ears for the response. Patronising them with attempts at Thai, and looking bewildered at the response is just pointless.
3) On any of the islands and beaches, apart from the fact you're sleeping in a hut, it's still a holiday resort.
You get a look of disdain. "Travellers are different - we appreciate and get engrossed in the culture more, living like the locals", or some such bollocks. Ok, maybe, but only on a very, very shallow level. You're not living in poverty. Every night you and everyone else goes back to a reasonably plush room really well fed. Don't try and convince me otherwise when you're having a spliff and a drink that you have a profound understanding of these people's lives! I'm not going to agree even if I do want to bone you. Drinking, smoking and shagging your way round the world for a bit, if that's what you're doing, is a perfectly acceptable lifestyle choice, just admit to it! Fuck, if someone had had a little word in my ear when I was 21, just been made redundant that I might as well go and do that rather than spending 7 months looking for another programming job, I'd have been eternally grateful. And life might have been very different now.
But instead, I'm a really lucky 28 year old git who decided to take a year or so off to go on a bit of a walkabout, and not worry about work. I'll have a little think about what I want to do with my life from time to time (mechanic, writer, counsellor, maybe a programmer), read books, contemplate writing a cheesy house track to make a fast million, and see a lot of interesting stuff and meet a lot of great people. At least, that's what I've done so far.
So here I was in the heart of backpacker land - cheap, laid back, blissful days roll by in a haze. The land of smiles. Where if you're lugging round your shit on your back, as opposed to rolling it along in a suitcase you're not a tourist, but a traveller. Only, I think the locals see it rather differently - and it's therefore the perfect place for me to go off on one about the sub-culture of the so called traveller.
But first, lets get the touristy stuff out of the way.
There's two sides to Thailand (there may be more, but we'll talk from my blinkered black and white view), so I'm going to break down my thoughts separately.
1) the Good:
Visuals - God, its an extremely beautiful place. It's like scenic porn in places. Like I guess most of Asia, Africa, South America etc must be that makes you realise how lucky you are to be able to go and visit there when the vast majority of local people here work for amounts that in terms of global buying power is absolutely Jack Shit.
Cuisine - The local food is stunning and cheap, although no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get a dish hot enough to blow my head off, despite my protestations to any waiter/waitress that I have indeed been blessed with an aspestos lined mouth, capable of handling any amount of spice you're prepared to throw at me. A meals not a meal unless I'm dripping in my own sweat after consuming it. I want warnings on my food that tell me to avoid contact with skin. Chili powder is like a cheap high for me. By the way, if you ever want to buy me a present - number one on this list would be very gratefully received.
2) The bad
The hassle during the day - Walking genuinely is a foreign concept over here as you can't seem to take 2 steps without being accosted by a tuk-tuk/taxi/motorbike wanting to take me 10 metres down the road - "Where you go? - You walk? Ohhhh no that very far - i take you - 70 baht". And the traffic in the cities, my god. People blame the yanks for their insatiable fuel consumption, and there's no doubt that's true. But when you look at the amount of vehicles in Bangkok (and most of Asia), and the distinct lack of pedestrians, you'd have to conclude that they're also doing their level best to wipe out the world's remaining oil supplies too. I honestly can't believe we haven't run out already.
Unwanted advice/scams - this was an absolute constant in any city. I think I damaged my ears and accentuated my stoop even further as the only way to get away from it seems to be to stick in headphones and look at the floor. And special mention to the woman in the TAT office who told me that I literally "have" to book everything through her, as its peak season and if I show up at the train station or any hostel, there will be no room anywhere. Obviously bullshit, but when I politely told her "I need a bit of time to think about it" she literally told me to fuck off and stop wasting her time. All I went in for was to buy a map.
Charging "foreigner" prices - to get into places like National Parks just doesn't seem right (though I've now seen it in Australia too, though less frequently) - or at least it isn't done in a fair way. But I do feel unbelievably lucky that I can do a trip like this - it's something that most people living in these countries could never do, which is really upsetting, so I guess a few extra pounds spent here and there is OK. So yes, if you want to do anything else apart from eat, sleep and sunbathe, it'll cost ya quite a bit here - certainly proportionally to everything else it seems like a fortune. Hell, if you do just wanna do that though, its faultless!
Bangkok -
Now here's the wierd thing. By the time I had been there twice, I liked Bangkok a lot. Once I learnt to embrace the hassle during the day, I really did love the grimy, seedy nature of this place, and although my prudish, moralistic core values ensure I'd never indulge in any of the "extra curricular activities" on offer myself, I find it fascinating that so many people do. And it seems like the done thing with very little embarassment. It's incredible the number of blokes here who've sampled the Thai delights, and thats the younger chaps. There's clearly no such problem with the older generation visiting here - who are here for one purpose and one purpose only. And they do it with sugh flagrant relish that the jaw just drops. I guess the other reason I liked it was the fact I met the girls I had been dreaming of - yep - Finnish! I think i must have nearly exploded when the lovely Polina told me where she was from, certainly judging from the reaction of the two other chaps who were there. And I'm sort of disappointed in myself I didn't go down to the islands with her too.
I'm always up for a bit of sprawling on a bench - so was this lazy git at the golden mount.
You'll get a lot of Tuk-Tuk drivers, 'helpful' locals and dodgy geezers all telling you every place is shut. Wat Po is probably the highlight temple of Bangkok, at least for me. Here's the reclining buddah, plus Hilary Swank circa "Boys don't Cry'.
Lopburi -
Famed for its proliferation of Monkey's, Lopburi makes an easy stop over on the way up to Chiang Mai. Except there didn't seem to be any good places to eat open the night I was there, forcing me to go to KFC.
Sukothai -
I only spent a night here, and can't remember very much about it except for the fact I got a pillion ride (sadly not slang for doing the nasty, which i guess is slang itself, but a lift on the back of a motorbike for those of you not in the know) of a hot Thai chick.
Chiang Mai -
The hostel owner, Pong at Spicy Thai backpackers is a lovely chap, and the place is plush as hell. Stay there. The only thing I would tell you is don't get stuck with a lazy indian girl who decides to shadow you, and demands to be chauffer driven on a trek, probably in case she get's tanned further ("Cos then I won't look beautiful"). I also experienced the rare joy of a Thai massage on this trek, which leaves you feeling worse then when you started, after having your hamstrings forced to an extent that leaves me with a newfound respect for little Michael Owen, given his problems.
I'm disgusted with myself. I had learned in Goa last year that elephant rides are probably the best thing you can do if you have a desire to feel like killing yourself from extreme guilt afterwards. It was part of the trek, which I wouldn't have booked if i had known that this was to be on it. But once there I thought, hell maybe it won't be as bad. It was. I wanted to grab the elephant handlers stick, beat him over the head with it, whip the backs of his legs and then stuff it so far up his arse it would provide him with a new rod for his gullet, but I was restrained by the aforementioned girl who seemed to enjoy cruelty. Still, that's Jake, who I met there too in the photo - a great lad who also was trying to escape the clutches of this ignorant, awful excuse for a person, so at least we both had some decent company (i hope!).
Still, did get some nice scenery when we did get to walk all of 100 meters.
Katchanaburi -
Ah, the infamous Bridge over river Kwai. Well worth visiting the museum here, to get a completely different perspective on the 2nd world war. The Hiroshima peace museum, whilst undoubtedly very, very moving and entirely correct in showing the fact that a nuke should never be used, hadn't given me enough background on what Japan's actual tactics were in the 2nd World War. This did, and the bridge is one of the results of the appauling treatment of people all over this region, which is why some innocuous bridge is so famous. Whilst here, I met a couple of English girls with a really weird plan for their 5 months in South East Asia - spend 4 days out of 5 in the guesthouse/hostel, and ration themselves to one day out a week. It's curious how some people's brain works. However, they were both gorgeous and quite sound apart from their tendency to procrastinate, so I'll let them off.
Here's one for the lads, seeing as I got complaints for having no pictures of women last time. Some russian girl contemplating another dip in number 3 of 7 splash pools at the Erawan Waterfall. Stunning scenery.
And here's number 5 I think.
Hua Hin -
I had planned to stop off somewhere else, but, after 6 hours on the bus that day, my back decided against it. this incredibly touristy little seaside town didn't really appeal - although the free pool at the place I stayed for the night certainly did.
Krabi
on the way down here it was an 8 hours bus ride, with all 3 Thai dubbed Fast n' the furious films on show, and some guys birthday meaning they force fed me whisky and dried insects. Supeer! Only spent a night here, and met a really nice, but taken girl from Melbourne with whom I subsequently went to...
Hat Ton Sai -
Which is a world class climbers beach. I did a little bit, but had most fun when going for a bit of a climb myself on the free ropes between Railay East and West, down to the lagoon. Here i scratched up my eye pretty damn badly whilst wearing contacts on the beach - giving myself a self diagnosed corneal abrasion. Hung out for a while with some great Kiwi guys who liked a toke, but naturally I didn't indulge at all. I also spent New Years eve chatting up a Canadian girl who was rightly enchanted with the beauty of the place, and with my sterling conversational skills. That was of course, until some gorgeous (well, he was!) Aussie climber bloke came along and stole her away - and I couldn't dispute his skills were exceptional. Oh well, my optical concerns still left me with a unique fireworks display to wonder at - every flare had a halo and every explosion looked like loads of glistening stars, so I was satisfied that I got a pretty outstanding show too.
This place was too pretty. Here's some old school beach farming.
It's pretty damn difficult to take a bad photo.
Ton sai again
Trang -
Stopped off here on the way down to Malaysia, and it reminded me of newmarket. Went to visit the eye doctor here - a lovely chap who was highly impressed with my powers of self diagnosis. All good now by the way. Also met a guy who had become addicted to the sex tourism industry - poor bastard just couldn't resist and he spent the whole evening dithering over what to do, how he just can't stop and using me as a sounding board to try and convince himself not to give in again. Later that night, his dick won.
So, its weird. I spent a month here, overall had an excellent time, but I left with the nagging feeling I'd been a bit ripped off. According to my bank statements, I've just worked out I've spent about 1300 baht (about 20 quid) per day. Most people I know are attempting to survive on about 700. Now, from observation there's no doubt I have the appetite of at least 5 gap year students combined - I don't go skimping on the food. So i've been spending similar amounts of cash as in Japan - which when you think about the way this place is lauded as the ultimate (cheap) backpacker destination, is a complete joke.
So back to traveller culture. But maybe not as much as I could write. I was gonna do that, I really felt like ranting so much when I was actually in Thailand, thanks to people that you meet there who seem to think they're on a voyage of spiritual enlightenment. And when you point out that:
1) Everything's set up for you here - the whole country is Tourism.
2) The majority of the locals speak pretty good English if you have some patience and unclog your ears for the response. Patronising them with attempts at Thai, and looking bewildered at the response is just pointless.
3) On any of the islands and beaches, apart from the fact you're sleeping in a hut, it's still a holiday resort.
You get a look of disdain. "Travellers are different - we appreciate and get engrossed in the culture more, living like the locals", or some such bollocks. Ok, maybe, but only on a very, very shallow level. You're not living in poverty. Every night you and everyone else goes back to a reasonably plush room really well fed. Don't try and convince me otherwise when you're having a spliff and a drink that you have a profound understanding of these people's lives! I'm not going to agree even if I do want to bone you. Drinking, smoking and shagging your way round the world for a bit, if that's what you're doing, is a perfectly acceptable lifestyle choice, just admit to it! Fuck, if someone had had a little word in my ear when I was 21, just been made redundant that I might as well go and do that rather than spending 7 months looking for another programming job, I'd have been eternally grateful. And life might have been very different now.
But instead, I'm a really lucky 28 year old git who decided to take a year or so off to go on a bit of a walkabout, and not worry about work. I'll have a little think about what I want to do with my life from time to time (mechanic, writer, counsellor, maybe a programmer), read books, contemplate writing a cheesy house track to make a fast million, and see a lot of interesting stuff and meet a lot of great people. At least, that's what I've done so far.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)