Half of the world in numbers

• Millions of mosquitoes, bugs and dive-bombing maggots
• Thousands of pictures taken
  
• 788 hours spent on planes, buses, trains and boats (just under 33 days)
• At least 500 instances of Rick brushing his teeth
• Over 100 days in the sun
• 60-odd great friends made
  
• 49 cities, towns, villages, islands visited from Bangkok to Perth
• 40 blog posts
  
• 32 jumps from a high place into a wet place
  
• 15 temples and monasteries
• 8 countries let us through their border crossings (more fool them)
• 5 and a half months wandering from country to country
  
• 3 near death experiences (including near-death by hammer and near-death by moped)
• 2 drops out of or from stuff over 100m in the air
  
• 1 amazing journey

I landed back in the UK yesterday. It's grey, rainy, and after spending 2 days in the 40deg heat of Dubai, it's a tad chilly. But, it's home. In Dubai it was great to see mates I hadn't seen in 6 months, Chris and Kerry thanks very much for your hospitality, and Matt A and Camilla, you two behave! While I was interested to be back and see the place again, I can honestly say that apart from the friends I have there, Dubai doesn't hold the attraction it once did. Maybe I did some 'growing' these past 5 months after all...

The final few days staying in Perth were a bit of a whirlwind of interviews and booze, the outcome of which was a job offer and a hangover. I've accepted the job and gotten rid of the hangover, leaving England once more on the 9th October. Matt has taken some more time to go and visit India, and with a bit of luck he'll be landing there in a few days. Hope you have a blast mate, sorry I can't be there to share it with you.

I hope you, the reader, have enjoyed reading this blog as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I can't urge you enough to get to these places if you haven't already been, especially places like Laos and Cambodia. The life, the people, it's all so different but in an extremely good way, and, given the money and time, I'd go back there in a heartbeat. Without a doubt I shall visit them again.

And so, with a tear in my eye (don't worry, I'm only crying on the inside) I bid you farewell.
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I love a bit of drama I do.

This is the end, of our elaborate plans, the end

Well not quite. Yet. Though that's a great Doors song. Go look it up if you don't know it.

We arrived in Perth to find Sam waiting at the airport for us. Apart from the first words out of his mouth being 'What the hell is that?!' while pointing at my unshaven chin, it was good to see him again. Sam was one of my friends from Dubai who I'd worked with, and was given the Spanish Archer (El bow) by Hill McGlynn on the same day as me. Unfortunately, he had responsibilities which prohibited him from becoming an itinerant world-wide vagrant (such as a wife) and he'd come to Australia and got a job pretty sharpish.

It was great to see him and Bev again. They've settled pretty much in the centre of town, literally a stone's throw from the CBD. Somewhat strange when compared to other cities, it seems that people live in the centre of Perth but all work in the suburbs, and up until a year or so ago there were no bars in central past 6pm.

Unfortunately he and Bev have had to work the whole week so far, but their housemate Elle (a lazy student type, is there any other?) has been around to keep me and Matt company. Our first couple of days were spent not doing too much at all other than buying food for dinner each evening. As a bit of a thank you to Sam for allowing us to kip on the couch, we've been cooking most days - rather domesticated I know. The weather hasn't been great, so we've only really gone out and about a few times. The first was down to Fremantle, a rather hippy-chic, boho-esque kind of suburb (these buzzwords doing anything for you?). Not that many people about on a weekday, it's filled with second-hand book shops, cafes, aboriginal art galleries and gelato shops. Great to pass an afternoon and have a walk around. For those of you who are scared by my geeky nature, probably best to pass on to the next paragraph now, however I did find an arcade with a Guitar Hero game. Had to go in and play. Sorry.

The day after was gloriously sunny, and Matt and I took a walk up the hill to Kings Park. It's huge, and provides a great view of Perth CBD and the Swan River. Beautifully cultivated, there are Botanical Gardens and many cafes and restaurants to while away an afternoon. Matt went on yet another of his 3 hours walks, so I went and walked around some shops before going home. Bought some new trainers too. Result.

The weekend has been a bit of a blur of beer, vodka and food. The Wallabies won their first rugby game in a while against the Springboks so pretty much everyone around us was happy and chatty which made for a good few nights. At one point we did duck into a strip club to play some pool (I couldn't hold Sam back) but for the most part we've been good. Scouts honour. Today was rather relaxed as some of us had a hangover, taking in a trip to Hillary's Boat Harbour taking in some pool, crazy golf (called Whacky Putt) and some rather good fish and chips.

Nothing new in North Island? Not likely!

From Franz Joseph we spent a few nights more in South Island, namely in Greymouth (nothing there) Nelson (a great Saturday market, filled with buskers, hippies, food and merino sheep's clothing) and Picton (extremely picturesque, but very quiet, their 4000 strong population swells to 14,000 in Summer).

We took the Inter Islander Ferry across to Wellington, and as there were so few decent camp sites for us to stay we decided to spend a few nights at the Base Backpackers right in the center of town.

Wellington is a very cool city, and extremely windy! We were just around the corner from Courtenay Place, a road lined with bars, cafes and shops, and found ourselves eating out there for two nights, taking advantage of some great food deals. Our first evening was spent in the enjoyable confines of the bar in the basement of the hostel, having a few drinks and playing some pool - relatively relaxed and chilled. The day after, we met up with one of Matt's long lost relatives David (2nd cousin's dog's mother's owner or something) and had a nice lunch in the Mac's Brewery. He was a wealth of knowledge on where to go and what to do, and helped us plan the last week of our NZ tour. He also bought us lunch, which went down even better, so David, have one for us!

After he left to go back to the office, Matt and I took a stroll through the free Te Papa Museum, which, I must say, was great. You've probably noticed through the blog that I'm not one for lingering over a discovered bit of chamber pot from the 18th Century, but the exhibits here are superb. You can take a look at the Colossal Squid, preserved in formaldehyde sporting eyeballs the size of footballs (that's English football you phillistines) and learn a bunch of Maori things, promptly forgetting them again after (while I was there I found out what all the bits of a marae were called but can't remember now. The marae itself is a meeting house for the village). A highlite was the 10 minute film, which starred various New Zealanders, both Maori and other, explaining their life for the likes of us ignorant British tourists.

We left Wellington and had a long day driving to Taupo (pronounced, for no discernible reason, tao-paw) stopping off on the way at one of David's suggestions, a wildlife centre which had a Kiwi house. Unfortunately, said Kiwi House had only one male kiwi who was rather upset because his kiwi konkubines had been taken away for some reason or other. I felt sorry for him. Matt went and did one of his walks in Taupo, I ended up playing a bit of one on none basketball in the campsite's court. I still managed to lose.

Through the very friendly staff there however, we organised a Maori cultural experience thingummy at Rotorua, called Tamaki Maori Village. It was for the next evening, and he also sorted out our site for the night. Enroute we stopped off at a Thermal Plateau kind of thing, interesting and colourful but smelly smelly smelly.

And on to Rotorua: what a cool place. While waiting for our bus to come collect us for our Maori dooberry, who should rock up but K and Jit who we met in Franz Joseph. We were on our way out, but organised to meet up the day after for fun and games. We were taken away for the evening by a great Maori woman called Aroha, and spent the evening learning Maori games, Maori weapons (those things are deadly I tell you, very scary) and watching a concert. Well I say concert. The only instruments were an accoustic guitar and some percussion, and the songs, while lyrically were in Maori, sounded like early 90s boy band covers. However the extremely impressive poi and sticks they were throwing about, WHILE singing, distracted me enough from the singing to enjoy it a lot. Add on the haka and an amazing hangi meal (where everything is cooked on heated volcanic rocks in the ground for 8-10 hours) and it was a superb evening.

We spent most of the next day with K and Jit. We watched them zorb down a hill (basically a big bouncy ball filled with water, you climb in and get pushed down. Fun to do, but even more hilarious to watch) followed by a ride on the sky gondola and 3 rides on the luge. That was great fun, and each of us managed to get the little sleds up onto two wheels rather than four, and clear air on one of the sharper drops. K and Jit went off to do their Maori concert and meal that night, and Matt and I met up with a couple we'd met while travelling through Vietnam, Luke and Beckie (Mum you'll remember them cos you helped sort out their tickets!). They'd been staying with Luke's cousin who lives in NZ, and the 5 of us went out for a meal and some drinks, a really enjoyable evening and great to catch up with them again. It finished as it started, with me losing at pool and Luke and Matt winning. Nice and symmetrical, but hopefully we'll see them on the other side of the world at some point.

We drove to Auckland today, ready to say goodbye to NZ. We've had a great time with our campervan (strangely enough more comfy than the bed at Base in Wellington) and can honestly say there's nowhere I've been that manages to combine addrenaline with beautiful scenery in such a seamless way.

The open road, sheep and empty towns

What is it about the open road that calls people? I'm not completely sure myself, but it's sort of got me under its immense (if unfathomable) spell. New Zealand's roads are, to put it bluntly, carnage. Not the normal carnage you may find in Italy, Dubai, Egypt etc, where there are way too many cars to fill the road so, in a Darwinian way they all crash into each other and only the fit survive, thereby making the roads less congested (hah!) but in the sense that there's so few cars on the road, all you have left is speed and breathtaking landscapes.

The roads through the New Zealand Alps

The national speed limit is 100km/h, about 55-60mph. This is, on first impressions, a tad slow. Fair enough, I'm driving a van which is longer than the Nile river, and a diesel to boot, but it can go faster. I've tried. But then you realise what sort of road you're driving down. They're one lane each way, and breaking up this 100km/h limit are a series of small and not so small towns, which these roads go straight through the middle of. That's fine when said road is the only road in the town, lending other options to the classic 'one horse town' motto (or in the case of one such ville, 'enjoy our three horse town'). But then the speed limit drops down to 50km/h (just under 30mph) and normally without much warning, i.e. blind turn at 100 and BANG 50km/h now now now, brake brake brake!

It's also very easy to find your speed creeping up to 120. I've mentioned that the roads are one lane. When they're straight, they're also very, very empty. Going at 100, you wouldn't see a car behind or infront of you the whole time, unless someone turns out of a side street. I see plenty in front, then behind as I overtake. But coming the other way, you'd be forgiven thinking it's heavy traffic if you see more than 3 cars at a time, or more than three over the space of say 30 minutes.

Practicing safe driving

It also makes it very easy to tell when a car has had a mishap. We stopped by the side of the road having seen a Jeep in a ditch. An unfortunate girl has pulled over to answer her mobile phone, but found that the grass was much more boggy than she'd anticipated. When we stopped to help her, she was in tears, having failed to flag down a passing motorist for over half an hour. Having stopped, a good number of cars passed us, until eventually another guy stopped and said he had a tow-rope. We connected her to the back of our van, and pulled her out. Smug with our good deed for the day, I powered off, and nearly ran over a herd of sheep in the middle of the road, the farmer (in his 4x4 and dog running along side) screaming at me to slow down. Lesson learned.

Carrying on from the second last post:

On the way to Milford Sound - awesome ground mist

we were in Te Anau, and we did the trip to Milford Sound. We saw where an avalanche had closed the road for 10 days (the snow was still there, now ice really) took a boat trip, saw some piddly water falls, saw an interesting if not enthralling underwater observatory, and that was that. We then drove to Dunedin, a town known for it's lively music scene, and the chance to see yellow eyed penguins. I drove 30 minutes along the narrowest of cliff roads for this, only to be told that it wasn't the right season. We didn't see any music either.

Cutting back across NZ, we stopped at a place called Campbell for the night (again nothing there and the town had shut by 6pm) and made our way to Franz Joseph, where I was astounded at how truly tiny the world had become. A few weeks ago, Rachie (great mate from Uni) told me that a friend of hers was also travelling through NZ, and we should get in touch. Through the wonders of Facebook we did, and ascertained we'd probably cross paths on their southern journey as we passed north. Arriving in Franz Joseph, I find a message from her, telling me she'd just arrived in...Franz Joseph. I'd noticed a large group of people staying where we were, and nonchalantly asked if there was a girl called Vicky with them. Yes there was. The guy I'd asked then said he recognised me, and it was someone we'd met in Vietnam and Cambodia. I had a chat with him, and on doing so, a girl walked past us. I told him I'd seen her before in Airlie Beach on the same boat trip as us. He said it was Vicky. Rachie's friend, who she'd told me to meet, I'd already met nearly a month before in a different country. Fun times.

As you can see from below, the sky dive we did while in Franz Joseph was out of this world, and great fun. The other reason to go there is to trek through the glaciers. I've seen other people's pictures of this, and it looks great, but the prices being asked meant we'd had to decide - sky dive or glacier walk. You can see the results below.

Looking rather scared, dangling out of the plane

Since then, we've spent a night in Nelson, quite a charming town with a great Saturday market, selling everything from Merino Woollen Socks to homemade knives, and we're now in Blenheim, hoping to meet up with friends made in Laos, and subsequently met again in Kuala Lumpur. Told you it's a small world.

Jumping out of a plane over a Glacier...sweeet

So today I took a small plane and jumped out of it. There were mountains and glaciers to my right, and a beautiful open Tasman Sea to my left. Awesome. View the vid. Cheesy music aside (and it really is cheesy) you'll notice that regardless of what the hell I was thinking, just before we jump I still look like I'm gonne pee my pants. Or worse...Enjoy!

Queenstown - adrenaline on ice, air and water

Queenstown. You know how in London and other cities there are bronze statues of notable people or icons, say Nelson in Trafalgar Square, or the Little Mermaid in Copenhagen? Queenstown instead has a guy cuddling a ram. Maybe it used to be a farm. It's about the size of a very large one. Or maybe two. But it's packed and teeming with every kind of adrenaline rush you can find, be it heli-skiing/boarding (taking a helicopter to otherwise unreachable peaks and hurtling down on one or two bits of wood) shooting down the river on a 180km speedboat, bungy jumping or sky diving. A far cry from sheep based activities.

After skiing at Cardrona, I decided to take a few snowboarding lessons in Remarkables while Matt went tramping (what the locals call hiking) around the town. Unlike anywhere else I've skied, Remarks has amazing views right from the base camp, and the weather up there was superb, great powder and great sunshine.

Remarkables from base camp - the white below the cloud is more cloud covering Queenstown

My first two lessons, both on the same day, went rather well, to the point where the cute blonde New Yorker who was taking the lesson took me up to the first chairlift and helped me out coming down my first green run. Boarding actually does feel more free than skiing, but it's completely different (surprisingly) and my third lesson (where I was told to jump 2 levels) took me down some blue runs. Mostly on my arse, head, shoulder or wrist. I did stack it impressively at least twice, both times cartwheeling on my head. Quite a skill, but it wasn't intended. I'm now black and blue in a number of places, but great fun nonetheless.

As you can see from the last post, we also did the Nevis Sky Arc and Bungy, but they speak for themselves.

If you're not into the whole 10 second adrenaline rush, you can either take a 15 minute tandem paraglide from the Ledge, or chill at one of a zillion bars, pool halls, cafes or restaurants. Each evening we headed down for a few beers, taking in a pub crawl or two, and meeting some random people. This included one guy who we found smoking a spark plug. When asked what was in it, he said it was weed, that he'd grown himself. Turns out he works on films, supplying the vehicles, and the last one he worked on was Wolverine. Apparently he shared a spliff with Hugh Jackman. I also entered a free poker tournament which was pretty damn popular. By 1am we were down to the last 8, and I came 3rd. Pitty you only won bar tabs for 1st and 2nd place...!

We're now in Te Anau, about to take a trip to Milford Sound tomorrow. It's boring here, to put it bluntly, everything was closed at 6pm, and there were literally five people on the high street. With some luck tomorrow will be awesome, and then we're off to Dunedin. Cue Lord of the Rings Soundtrack....

The world's highest sky swing...

Something you may want to see...

Or not. People have already said they screamed slightly when they saw me drop on the vid...

In any case, I thought I'd do a bit of a story on this, though there isn't much to say. You get driven about 45 mins outside of Queenstown, the last 10 minutes of which up a hairy one lane track, cliff on one side and sheer drop on the other. You get your first glimpse of the bungy and Arc platform from there, and you immediately start wishing you'd chosen to do something safer that day, swimming with sharks for instance.

Must say though it's bloody well done. Everything's explained to you, you get strapped in nice and tight, and the guys who work the thing are a laugh. Also if anyone from Dorking knows a girl working at the Nevis Bungy let me know, she has friends in Dubai, but Jenna it's not you. Sorry.

Re the sky arc, as you can see from the video it's all very chilled. At least till they release you. You rush to about 150km on the way down, and it really does look as if you're going to go splat on the opposite canyon wall, but no, the boffs have done their measurements well and you come up short. And then you just swing. Which in all fairness is rather boring. It takes longer for them to bring you up than it does to get down there. Will def have to do it again though...

NZ, country number 8

Christchurch is rather nondescript. It's another town. The sun was shining as we landed and left the airport, and for this reason we were in good spirits. Maybe somewhat confusing to others however, we were also happy because we were going to Jail.

This is in fact the Jailhouse Hostel in Christchurch, an actual jailhouse built in the late 1800s, converted into a hostel. It's amazing. Imagine a film you've seen set in jail. Shawshank will do. Apart from being heaps smaller, it looked so similar. You sleep in the cells. You cook in the original kitchen, pee in the original (though maybe slightly improved) bathrooms, eat in the original common area. A few creature comforts have been added such as a small cinema, a TV room, and you get a key to get in and out of the building. Somewhat confusing as well, the next morning when I went for my shower the men's was being painted and we were directed to use the girls showers. As well as them. A very liberal jailhouse indeed.

We only stayed in Christchurch one night having booked a camper van for the coming month in NZ. It's great. About 6.9m long, it has two beds, its own shower and toilet, fridge, sink, stove and grill, plus microwave. It also has an inbuilt heater and plug sockets but annoyingly they only work when we're plugged into a 240v power-point at a campsite. As Matt had his licence stolen in Thailand, I'm the only driver, and so setting out at 10am I drove to Lake Tekapo, arriving around 4pm. Not really wanting to do much, we cooked our dinner in the campsite facilites then went to watch TV. In the TV room we met two Aussie girls from Sydney and Newcastle, chatted a bit, watched the American Apprentice and something called Packed to the Rafters (the girls said it was a great, funny Aussie show. In it the characters had marital, financial and ex-related porn net video problems. Funny on the face of it maybe but the show was depressing as hell, leading me to wonder what passes as humour in Sydney and Newcastle) before calling it a night and spending the first night in our camper. Surprisingly warm and comfy even in the -3 degree NZ nights.

The next day we drove to Wanaka, an incredibly scenic and beautiful drive. The sun was out the whole time, lighting up the snowy mountain peaks and valleys. I had fun driving the van around twisty turny roads, and even overtaking some cars. We arrived around midday in Wanaka, a small town with a lake on one side (named Lake Wanaka funnily enough) and surrounded by mountains. We had our lunch (Campbell's Chunky Irish Stew, very hearty) and found our campsite, about a 5 minute walk from the main road. We drove back to the main street to get our ski and snowboard gear, returning a bit later to the campsite. Who should we see there but the two girls from the previous night (we think they may be stalking us, one of them admits to not really having friends). After dinner the four of us went out for some drinks,and stumbled across some karaoke. I was rather pants and didn't do any (much against my nature I know) but












Cardrona from the top... Zoe exposing her granny pants

Nat and Zoe took to the floor for a rousing rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, introduced in fine fashion by Nat saying 'We want to see all you girls down the front, all the guys can go f*** off!' An extremely funny, drunken night was had by all, not least when there was a slight tremor, leading me to think I was drunker than I actually was due to blurry vision and a lack of balance. Turns out it wasn't just me. Getting up the next morning at 7am to go to the ski fields was not easy, but I felt a lot better on passing the girls camper and spying a sick bucket outside their door. Good on ya girls.

The skiing at Cardrona, a 30 minute drive away from Wanaka, is immense. The drive up the mountain through switch-backs and ice/grit was hairy only a few times, and I took to it like a duck to orange (or possibly pancakes). We picked up some hitchikers on the way, two of whom turned out to be some Irish guys we'd met back in April in Laos. Small world or what?

The actual slopes themselves apparently had the best powder in 10 years according to one local, and they did not disappoint. A good variety of easy, medium and hard runs, the blacks were nothing near as difficult as what I've found in Europe and USA/Canada, but were superb all the same. Unfortunately my knee was playing up after only a few hours, and so the two days we were on the slopes I was restricted to a morning session, then packing ice onto it. Stupid knee...

We ran into the girls the next evening, learning that Zoe had stayed in bed all day suffering from the mother of all hangovers. Nat had gone and had a facial and hair cut/blow dry as reward for being thrown up on the previous night. We went and found another bar that evening but only for one, and had an early night.

We've since driven to Queenstown, apparently the adrenalin centre of NZ. We're staying in a campsite very close to the main town itself. Today we booked our bungy and sky arc (the highest sky swing in the world apparently) and tomorrow we will take a jump from 134m high. God help us. Check it out by clicking the title of this post.

A sub-tropical sand Island and a lack of swell

***NEWSFLASH*** ***Telegram from Mr Toothpaste himself, Rick***

HAVE SEEN BLOG STOP FIND IT A GROSS MISREPRESENTATION STOP MY OCD IS RESULT OF ORTHODONTIC APPLICANCES STOP PLEASE INFORM THE MASSES STOP

END

There you have it folks. Now enjoy the blog.

We took another overnight bus. I thought I'd left those behind with Asia, but it wasn't to be. 6.10pm to 6.50am the next day we were on the move, being unceremoniously dumped at the bus stop in Hervey Bay. It had been absolutely freezing on board, and the first thing I did was change from my boardies into jeans. Rick brushed his teeth. 10 minutes later we were picked up by our Fraser Island tour bus.

Fraser Island is the world's largest natural sand island, and a sub-tropical one at that. It is home to a huge number of Dingos (supposed to be Australia's purest bloodline) snakes, spiders (we saw a black funnelweb) and plant-life. Bearing in mind it's a sand island, you have to wonder how such a rainforest managed to bloom.

A few things to look out for when you go there (and go there you should!):

1) Eli Creek
On the amazing 75 mile beach, the water in the creek is a sparkling emerald green, and you can float all the way out to the sea on it.

2) Lake McKenzie

An absolutely spectacular lake, the difference in the near-shore torquoise and the deep blue is startling. The water is so pure, as is the sand, that you can mix the two together to remove scratches from glass, and a dip in the lake will leave your hair silky smooth (I have none to base this on, but Matt was impressed).

3) An 80 year old ship wreck
Yeah, um...fun to see

4) Rick brushing his teeth

It was a cool day, especially seeing as we were on a 4WD bus, bumping and jumping all over the shop. Our driver expertly negotiated obstacles, all the while recounting stories and facts about the island. Did you know that the King Fern can be traced back over 150m years? Yeah I didn't really care either. Rick was more interested in finding somewhere to brush his teeth.

We finished the tour around 6pm, which was a shame seeing as our bus to Byron Bay wasn't until 1.25am, but did give Rick plenty of time to minister to his oral needs. A rather unfriendly bus driver wouldn't let us put our bags into the storage locker, and so we had to wait the whole 7+ hours until our bus arrived.

At 10.05am the same day, we arrived in Byron Bay. Luckily we'd already booked our accommodation at the Backpackers Inn on the Beach, and they'd sent someone to pick us up. It was only a 5 min walk, but it was good to get there with minimum hassle. We got shown to our 4-bed dorm room where we met our roomie, another Brit from London called Matt, and while Rick found the washroom to brush his teeth, I went to sleep as two nights on a bus had taken their toll on me.

The hostel was great, hosting BBQs, live music, and had a really social atmosphere. As its name suggests it was 30 seconds walk from the surf, and it was nice to once more be able to jump out of bed and into the water. Unfortunately, the swell wasn't all that for the 4 days we were there (i.e. the waves were small). Byron Bay is surfer central, and while they were good for Matt to learn on (I still couldn't move my arm properly so begged off, and Rick needed to brush his teeth) the lack of decent sufers was noticeable. Still, the nightlife was rather impressive, split between the Hotel hosting live rock bands, Cocomangas giving us a free drink every night, and Cheeky Monkeys, producing the recommended daily allowance of free booze and wet t-shirt competitions.

All too soon it was time to leave however, and for (hopefully) the last time, we boarded a Greyhound Bus to Sydney. After 13 long hours spent looking out the window, we arrived at Sydney Central Station at 11.20pm. Rick had booked himself some digs close by, and needed to brush his teeth. Matt and I, having a flight at 9.15am (which is in an hour from the time of writing) took the train straight to the airport, expecting to buy some food then bed down on a chair. Sydney Airport however is the only airport in the whole frigging world which CLOSES. That's right folks, from 11.30pm (we only just got in) until 4am the airport is closed for business. For those wanting to stay, there are three rows of seats you can collapse on. I thought Aussies were relaxed and laid back, but in so many things I'm being proved wrong! I did get chatting however to a girl who was also going to Queenstown. She'd been living on the Gold Coast, and we were able to chat about what we'd done, and what we'd missed (I apparently missed the weed capital of Oz, Nimbin, but I'm cool with that) and with luck we'll catch up in NZ.

Brilliant boats and bints in Airlie

We flew to Townsville. There's Magnetic Island there, but not much else. We'd been speaking to an Italian girl who'd been living in Sydney for a while, and she suggested we head on to Airlie Beach rather than stay there. We took a look into the Greyhound bus routes, and found that for a couple hundred dollars we could get a hop on/hop off ticket which would take us all the way to Sydney, allowing us to stop off at Airlie, Fraser Island and Byron Bay en-route.

4 hours on the bus and we arrived in Airlie. We stayed at the Backpackers by the Bay, a well appointed hostel just off the main road. Not as social there, we took the 10 minute walk to the mainstreet most of the time to eat and get a few drinks. We had to wait 5 minutes though for Rick to brush his teeth.

Airlie is a holiday place both for travellers and Aussies alike. It has a great lagoon next to the beach to go and sun yourself, but more than that, it's known for the great sailing opportunities around the Whitsundays Islands. Without further ado Matt, Rick and I booked a 3 day, 2 night excursion. With a day to kill, we went and sat by the lagoon to sun ourselves, and that evening Rick made himself a drunken one-legged friend on his way back from brushing his teeth. Matt made the astute observation that she'd gotten herself legless.

Rather randomly, the night before we sailed I thought I saw a girl I recognised, Joanna, who we met in two places while we were in Thailand. I hadn't however recognised the girl she was with as her friend I'd also met so I thought it was someone else. Later that night I was on facebook and Joanna came online. I said I'd seen her twin at Airlie. I was amazed to find that it had in fact been her, and more surprised to find that her and 2 friends were going on a boat trip the following day...exactly the same one as us!

Kev Joanna Laura Me Jenine Matt

Said boat trip was a great time. 50 or so of us were picked up on a blustery afternoon to set sail in the Kora, a boat apparently worth over AU$1m. We saw Joanna again and had a small reunion with her and Jenine, meeting their friend Laura too. At the same time, we introduced them to Rick (our new addition, but he was off brushing his teeth) and met two Yorkshire lads, Lee and Kev. The 8 of us were to spend the next three days in pretty close company, especially as Matt, Rick and I shared our room with Kev and Lee. Rick went and brushed his teeth as soon as we were there.

We weren't really able to do any real sailing while on board, mainly because of the size of the group, but also because we didn't need to. The crew of three simply pushed the throttle up or pulled it back. Cheating really...! Kev did get a go at steering though which he was chuffed about. On deck it could get quite cold as the wind and spray would jump up, but it was good fun in the sun, and the views of the scenery and landscape could be breathtaking.

That first day we went to Koala Adventure Island, a fully licenced resort island with its own 9 hole golf course and beautiful bay. Our evening was spent getting merry and playing games as organised by the host, followed by dancing the night away. That is, most of us did. Kev and Lee, against all our better advice, had decided to down some Goon (for those in the dark, Goon should be kept that way. A sweet, sickly wine, it is guaranteed to make you feel ill. No Aussies I've met will drink it, unless possibly they're underage and because it's the cheapest thing they can buy) and by dinner at 7pm were steaming drunk. Kev managed to keep up with us throughout the course of the night, but Lee stumbled back to our dorm to keep Rick company, who unfortunately had taken on some food poisoning and wasn't well at all. Or maybe he was just brushing his teeth.

When the rest of us got back to the dorm we were nicely sozzled, least of all Kev who proceeded to strip stark bollock naked (when Matt pointed this out to him he was unfazed). His bed was the top bunk above Rick, and we all bedded down. All of a sudden I heard this almighty thump, followed by Rick asking Kev if he was ok through a mouth of toothpaste (he thought he was stealing his toothpaste). Having fallen out of his bed, he proceeded to search on his hands and knees (still naked as the day he was born) muttering 'I've lost my bed, I can't find it'. After a surprisingly fruitless search on the floor and in his bag, he did find a bed. Unfortunately for Rick it was his, and after shouting out 'It's a bunk bed mate, you're on the one up there!' Kev finally found the ladder and climbed back into bed. Bless him but he has no recollection of this. Kev, here's to you. The only other thing to mention of the night was the added counterpoint to Matt's startlingly soprano and disturbing snoring (in which he sounds like he's choking) by Lee, himself emmanating a Basso Profundo rattle in perfect harmony.

Our first full day in the Whitsundays started at 7am for breakfast (urgh) but was unfortunately missed by Rick who spent the day brushing his teeth. We however went on without him (guilty? nah!) and we were taken to the absolutely beautiful Whitehaven Beach. An uninhabited island, there is no electricity, no shops, no nothing, and the only people who go are those lucky enough to own or be on a boat. The sand itself is almost 98% silica, so is extremely pure, and was my second introduction to squeaky sand. We stayed there for a good 3-4 hours before clambering back on board to have our lunch, followed by a 2 hour scenic trip back to

Me, with our boat 'The Kora' in the background

Koala Island (something of a misnomer that name, there are no Koalas on the Island). I went and played a game of volleyball with some of the other people on our boat (won a free beer in the process) and then joined the others at dinner time. The evening followed in a similar (if less drunken) fashion to the previous shenanigans, and Jenine and I did manage to win some more free booze playing another group game. The less said about that one though the better, right Jenine?

Me underwater

Our last day in the Whitsundays was supposedly the highlight as it involved snorkelling at the Great Barrier Reef, however 90% of the people on the boat were so hungover they only lasted 10 minutes in the water. It was rather cold, and after half an hour I was ready to get back onto the boat, but not before snapping some fish (in the gloom the pictures only half came out well) and 'accidentally' taking a picture of Laura's boobs.

Laura's boobs...for those interested

We landed back at Abel Point in Airlie around 3pm, all of us knackered but happy. The girls had their own campervan and were heading down to Hervey Bay to visit Fraser Island, and needed to get a good start on the 13 hour ride. We were heading the same way but on the Greyhound which left 3 hours later. After reliving Kev's starkers nightime escapade for the 20th time, we all said goodbye and made our way to our busses and vans.

My new tattoo - hope it says what I think it does...

Hookers and homos

Before you go off half cocked, no, we didn't realise where we'd be staying when we booked it.

Matt and I flew on a rather bumpy Virgin Blue flight from Melbourne to Sydney Airport, called up the place we'd booked to stay who sent us a courtesy bus to take us the 40 min ride (after dropping everyone else of first naturally) to the hostel. The hostel itself wasn't dirty. That's about all you can say about it.

We found Rick in the room. A friend of Matt's from back home, he'd been travelling since the day before from Birmingham and had arrived about 5 hours prior to us. That evening we took a look around the Kings Cross area we were staying in. For those with conservative sensibilities, skip the next paragraph...

Kings Cross is apparently the Gay centre of Sydney, not to mention it's a bit of a red light district. This is evident when you look down Darlinghurst Road, mainly due to the big flashing neon signs proclaiming 'Showgirls Galore' 'Dreamgirls' and 'Girls Girls and More Girls'. The prostitutes on the road and the big bouncers ('Looking for girls guys? Dreamgirls guys? Adult fun, adult viewing, want a good time guys?') are also a pretty big Clue (with capital 'C'). There was me thinking we'd left that behind us when we left Asia. How wrong I was. Darlinghurst was our main way to and from our hostel, so every night when we went out for a hunt for a new bar and a drink we were accosted. As beer prices were rather steep elsewhere, Matt took to asking them how much beer was in their classy establishments. Unlike the girls, not cheap enough.

There were some decent bars close by, and a brummie girl I met at one told me of a few others, unfortunately closed for the winter though. One which was open however offered a $4 burger and beer which was great value, especially when you factor in the free pool table available. The closest bar to us, the Sugar Mill (our room was practically above it) was a good laugh too.

I'm afraid that for most of the 3 days we were in Sydney I was stricken with a certain malady. Tiredness, lethargy, loss of apptetite...yup, I had Koala Syndrome. While I recuperated in bed, Matt and Rick managed to go see the sights, namely the Zoo, the Aquarium, and I managed to catch up with them at Syndey Opera House and Harbour Bridge. I have one photo of each and none of the Botanical Gardens. Koala Syndrome had set in with a vengeance.

I did however make the trip out to Parramatta (a Sydney suburb, about the distance of Harrow from London City) on the awesome train system to meet up with Claire, the sister of one of my oldest friends in London. She's been living in Sydney since 2007, and it was good to see her after a very long time (possibly 8 years?!). We had a good chat, but I couldn't stay out late as Matt and Rick had booked our flight to Townsville for the very next morning, meaning a 4am wakeup call.

Up till now, Australia hadn't really felt much different from the UK. Grey, cold, MacDonalds on every corner. We are now however in Airlie Beach, arriving yesterday after a 3 hour flight and 5 hour bus ride. It's 26 degrees, bright blue skies and sunshine. The people are all happy (mostly British, French or German backpackers funnily enough) and tomorrow we embark on a 3 day boat trip taking in the Great Barrier Reef, snorkelling and fun and games. More on that later...

Australia? Really?!

7pm, Monday 13th July. Little India, Singapore. Matt and I are having a drink. 'Fancy going to Australia now Adam?' 'Why not Matt, why not.'

We get on a plane at a gate with 'Melbourne' flashing on its notice board. They let us take biscuits and medicine on. We get off the plane just over 7 hours later, and the receiving airport tells us we can't take any food or medicine in, so we dump it all. We get out of the airport. It's 8am, cold and grey. 'Hey, this feels like England'.

They drive on the left, the signs are all in English, there's sprawling fields with farms, very few leaves on trees, mud, rain, dilapidated warehouses, high rises, somber colours, and they have a funny accent. Did I mention it's really grey? If it wasn't for said accent, I'd have sworn the pilot took a wrong turn and dumped us somewhere in the British Midlands. As it is I'm still having to be convinced every single day.

Melbourne has turned out to be...average? I don't want to lay into it, because as a town there's nothing wrong with it. And likely it's because we've come in winter, but the people aren't as friendly, open or helpful as we've become accustomed to, the other travellers are extremely single minded (sex, booze, booze and sex - how much is beer again? too much) and to top it all it's bloody friggin' expensive. Our dorm beds are costing us 12 quid each. 12 quid!!!

There are however some redeeming factors to be had in winter. St Kilda, a small burb of Melbourne is only 15 minutes away by tram, and has a theme park and beach. We tried to catch up there with a friend we made in Hanoi (Bree) but couldn't find the bar she was on about. None of the locals had even heard of it apart from one guy and he couldn't tell us where it was. But St Kilda is nice, and meant to be amazing in summer, what with the beach and all.

Another day we rented a car with two German guys (a lovely Nissan Micra dontcha know) and I drove 630km to, along, and back from the Great Ocean Road. This was actually really pleasant. About 2 hours away and starting at Torquay close to Geelong, this is meant to be Australia's most beautiful coastal road, and I can easily believe it. Passing through Anglesea, Lorne, Apollo Bay and moving on to Warrnambool and further, it's around 270km long in total. Torquay is the home of Ripcurl and Quicksilver surf brands, and Anglesea is where the lighthouse in 'Round the Twist' (well known Aussie kiddie show from the 80s/90s) is situated. Maybe I'm being a bit sad, but it was one of the highlights!). We stopped off a number of times en-route to see a few sights: wild Koalas in trees, some only a meter away from us; random brightly coloured parrot-like birds, some of which tried to eat Matt; a canopy walk at the Otway Fly (this was an 80km detour inland from the Ocean Road, and not necessarily worth it apart from for true nature lovers due to the $22 entry fee, but it was cool to be walking at the same level as the treetops) and we then made it to the 12 Apostles just before sunset, perfectly timed I might add.

The 12 Apostles are a number of rock stacks which, during the course of erosion have been separated from the cliffs. The tallest is approx 45m high (compared with the highest point of the cliffs being 70m) and are of varying shapes. One actually collapsed in 2005, and in time the others will fall back to the sea as well, but hopefully not for a long while yet. The photos during the day and at sunset are brilliant to see, and I'll post them as soon as possible. There are also penguins which live around the apostles, but unfortunately we didn't see any.

While staying in Melbourne Matt and I have done a little bit of shopping for some more cold-weather clothes (plus new boots and stuff for Matt to replace what was stolen) and not much else. Yesterday I visited the casino (lost $200 on Poker, made $300 on Blackjack so all is good) and tonight we've been invited to a party by another girl we met while travelling through Vietnam who lives here (Chloe). Tomorrow I'm expecting to be a day of recovery, and Monday we'll be winging our way to Sydney.

Addition: It's now Sunday, I have a steaming hangover, Matt has somehow managed to ditch his and has gone off in search of the Salvador Dali exhibition and Cook's Cottage (the original cottage belonging to Captain Cook, it was dismantled and brought stone by stone from Blighty, what a pallaver!). Good party, thanks to Chloe for inviting us!

Swingapore and what laws not to break. Doesn't leave that much really...

It was time to leave KL. I was ready to go. Bags were packed, I'd said goodbye to people (those that had gone to bed only 2 hours before I couldn't wake, not naming names Shaun or Alex) and I walked to the bus station. On the way I heard a guy call out 'Singapore?' and within 20 seconds I'd paid my 30 ringit for a nice big seat on an 'executive luxury bus'. And it was pretty comfy, as this was a full size coach with only 3 seats to a row, affording each seat more space both width- and length-ways.

After maybe 4-5 hours we got to the border, defined by this sprawling modern, sterile, grey building. It was actually very efficient, both on the Malay exit and Singapore entry (though I did feel a tad silly declaring a packet of cigs with only four left in it) and the highlight was definitely the music, which was a string version of Guns 'n Roses' 'Sweet Child of Mine'. I did learn after we'd got through the Singapore side however that the box of cigarettes I had was technically illegal, that they were imported into Malaysia without paying tax. No wonder the people I'd bought them from had kept them under the counter...

I got dropped off a good 30 minute walk away from the Prince of Wales Guest House where I'd booked my bed, however set off in good heart after asking the way to Little India. About 40 minutes later and I'd just about found Little India, but with no map (Matt had the guidebook) was finding it increasingly frustrating that I couldn't locate the right road. A quick nip into a net cafe to consult a map and I was sorted, arriving at the hostel to see Matt having a beer outside with a couple of people. I dumped my stuff in the dorm and joined them.

Laws not to break in Singapore:

• Don't smoke outside the yellow box, or rather ONLY smoke in a designated yellow box (the space in between double yellow lines on the roadside doesn't count apparently)
• Don't spit in the streets
• Don't jay walk
• Don't eat, drink, smoke or spit on the MRT (Singapore Tube) otherwise $500 fine
• Don't read Malaysian National Newspapers
  

Apart from the second and fourth ones, we managed to break all these within the first day.

I'm afraid that otherwise we did jack-all in Singapore. The night I arrived I fell asleep at 10pm (somewhat amazingly seeing as I'm an extremely light sleeper and below us the bar was raging with a funk/jazz band). Getting up the next day around noon, Matt and I took a walk around Little India, managing to find the big computer/electronics centre for him to try and fix something with his camera, and after that, we sat in the bar listening to a live celtic band. Actually not that bad, complete with electric fiddle and a pint-sized 8 string electric guitar. That evening, Ivan came to meet us. This is a guy we'd met while doing our tour of Halong Bay/Catba Island in Vietnam nearly 2 months ago, and he just happened to live in Singapore too. He took us for Shisha at the aptly named Arab Street, and we had a good catch up in an Egyptian establishment, ('Are you Egyptian?' I asked the comically Indian looking waiter. 'Yes' he said) complemented by ordering some Foul Medemes. Good times.

Rose from KL turned up at some stupidly early hour the next morning, which afforded us evil looks from the girl who opens up the bar and guest house. A pretty blonde, mornings definitely don't agree with her (the bar girl that is, not Rose, but she's no early bird either really). Rose left around 9am to sort out stuff with the Indian embassy and find her friend who was staying in Singapore, and I went back to bed. Well, I went to bed, but not before finding out that the flight to Melbourne we had in our heads as being the next day was actually later the same day at 10.30pm. Nearly the biggest fail of the whole damn trip, I was convinced my calendar was wrong and that my flight was Tuesday 14th Jul rather than Monday 13th Jul. A quick check on the Emirates website confirmed I was well and truly incorrect. Shame I'd already paid for that extra night in the dorm...

We met up with Rose again that afternoon (this time accompanied by her old school friend Em) had some lunch, said our goodbyes, and made our way across the Indian Ocean to Australia...

A fine traveller I turned out to be...

Um. Heh. I'm er....(still in Kuala Lumpur).

Let me tell you what happened. When we got back to Oasis Guest House in KL, we ran into yet more people we'd seen in Laos, namely Claire and Gary, who I'm pretty sure I also saw in Siem Reap in Cambodia. We made new friends with the people who'd just arrived, and had a good night. Plus it was Matt's birthday and so we were all up late drinking and playing with poi on the roof.

Matt decided to go and find a beach by way of Pulau Tioman, and I stayed with cool people seeing as Shaun, Steve, Tom and Alam were still here. There was a new addition to the group (Rose) and for the most part, we've all been getting up late, eating late, drinking late, and going to bed early, say 8am or so.

We did organise a group trip to the Bathu Caves, a set of natural caves about one hour outside KL by bus. The entrance is dominated by a 100ft gold plated statue of Lord Muraga, and to reach the caves you must climb around 300 steps. They are numbered, so I have nothing except bad memory as my excuse to why I can't remember exactly how many there are. The caves are used as a Hindu shrine and prayer hall, as well as for festivals, where apparently up to 2m people attend at a time. We were there at just the right time to get deafened by gongs and drums marking the time to pray, and we watched in respectful silence while the service (for want of a better word) was conducted.

The caves are full of monkeys and cockerels, of which the former will try and steal anything you leave hanging around loosely. I managed to scare one quite by accident and it charged me, only just pulling up short and screeching at me. I stamped towards it and it ran off, not before it initially made me pee my pants just a little.

Another old travelling buddy from Laos turned up, Abi who we'd met in Vang Vieng and travelled all the way to Don Det with. Got to show her a bit of the city (seeing as I'm now a bit of a local) and introduce her to the local rothi canai shop (indian flat bread with a dip of either daal or chicken curry, all for RM1 which is 25p). We also went to watch Ice Age 3. Ruudyyyyyyyyy....

I am ACTUALLY going to go to Singapore tomorrow as KL, while it has charmed me and kept me entertained has now become 'just' another city, and while Singapore is a more expensive place to stay, I'm up for something new. With some luck Matt will be there within a day or so and then we fly to Melbourne.

Bag thefts and gay Malaysians in Melaka.

Just a quick one. So yesterday I finally get to Melaka to catch up with Matt, 4 days after he went there ahead of me. He was done with the place and was leaving that day to go to the Tioman Islands where I would meet him today. I went down there with two Spanish travellers, Sara and Alex, and instead of going to where Matt stayed, we chose a place in Chinatown, the other side of this small city.

About 9pm I get online to check my emails quickly, and am surprised to see some from Matt. His big bag of stuff had been stolen out of the guest house he was staying in, and he was still in Melaka. I grab the lonely planet from Alex for the map and set out to walk to his hostel. Got lost about three times en route, and then randomly passed Matt on the street outside a shopping centre. Good thing too as I was walking in completely the wrong direction...

Turns out that the owner of the hostel had contributed indirectly and not at all intentionally to the theft, and so had given Matt his own backpack. We have however had to come back to Kuala Lumpur so he can buy everything that was stolen. Luckily, this doesn't include things like camera, phone, wallet or passport, but almost everything else.

Quick word on Melaka - it has a rather nice river walk, but only if you don't have a sense of smell. The water is oily black, and your own imaginations can fill in the blanks I've left out here. It does have a large revolving restaurant at the top of a tower, and a hill walk to do where you can see over the whole town. There is also something similar to the London Eye, named in original fashion 'The Eye of Malaysia'.

It also has random gay guys (not) offering sex. After I found Matt and we agreed a plan of action, I walked back to my place at about 2.30am, almost without seeing another soul. Suddenly a rather butch Malaysian guy walks out from behind a tree and starts saying hello in an extremely camp voice. Probabaly realising this wasn't kosher on a subconscious level, I said 'no thanks' to which he replies 'I'm not asking you for sex, I just want to chat to you. As a friend'. A strangled laugh of some sort came out of my throat and I picked up the pace a little. He didn't follow.

I got back to the guest house and Sara and Alex were still up. I recounted this story, to which Alex says I should be complimented. 'Yeah, if a gay guy thinks you're attractive, it's meant to be more of a compliment than if a girl does. They're more picky' he says. I nearly smacked him.

Mum, Dad...I went rock climbing (and got a tattoo, shhhhhh)

So we never caught up with Ryan, however ended up having a pretty damn good time of it none-the-less. Krabi Town itself is rather boring these days, we were chatting to the really friendly owner of the guest house we were staying in, and he told us that a year ago all his guests booked by phone and they were almost always full. These days, he has to send someone to every bus that gets into town (how we ended up staying there) and a lot of the time they aren't able to bring anyone back. Blame the credit crunch.

There is a great night food market next to the river however, and a very friendly Irish Bar which was showing Wimbledon (go on Murray!) so we enjoyed ourselves. The main reason to go there is as a route to the great beaches around a 20 minute ride away, Ao Nang and Ao Ton Sai, among them,also known as Railay Beach.

Two highlights of Krabi. I'd been thinking of getting a tattoo for a while, and Thailand is the bamboo tattoo capital of the world. Instead of using a machine needle, the method is to get a quill and attach a sharp, flat needle of bamboo to the end. This is dipped in ink, and the design takes shape by quickly jabbing the needle into the skin repeatedly, all by hand. It doesn't scab over, and you can go into the water the very next day. Just down the road from where we were staying was a bamboo tattoo parlour, and I decided there was no time like the present. I found a translation of 'live life' in Arabic (so many people have tattoos in Thai, and I'm half Egyptian so it makes sense to me) and I took it in. About £20, half an hour and about a million needle jabs later I was the proud owner of a tattoo on my right shoulder. Mum, Dad...sorry! (but I like it).

The next day we'd booked a full day's climbing trip to Railay Beach, and bugger me if it wasn't the most beautiful beach we'd been to. You can only get there via long-tail boat, and words just don't do it justice. Over the course of the day, we took on around 5-6 separate climbs, and actually got stuck in a cave while it rained. Our instructor took us right the way through this cave (almost a rock climb in itself) and on emerging into the sunlight we found ourselves with a perfect birds-eye view of the bay and surrounding islands. The only way down was to abseil. We have a lot of photos of the two of us in spiderman-like positions (for those in the know, it was NOT a go-web moment) but Matt was the star of the day, managing to complete every single climb. I was a big fatty and managed to reach the summit of just one, booo!

I did manage to perform the trick of the trip so far, namely walking into a cut branch, head down, which left a gash maybe an inch long and a few millimeters wide on the top of my head. For those with a queasy stomach, when I put the picture up don't look at it, there was quite a bit of blood pouring out, but it quickly stopped and our instructor had some benadine which gelled it up. I got back and washed it out with alcohol (stang like a mofo btw) and it's scabbed up, so no risk of infection. It does mean I can't shave my head for a while though.

For the next day I was a bit shaky in the fingers which is to be expected, but both of us are still slightly stiff in the wrist (no jokes please!). It was a great day though, other than a slight shower absolutely beautiful weather, and the others climbing with us were a great laugh, a young couple from Melbourne who run a pub there. First stop when we arrive....

We've been in Kuala Lumpur a few days, taking in the Petronas Towers (tallest twin towers connected by a sky bridge in the world) and the KL Tower, complete with ponies and monkeys in the surrounding grounds. Maybe a little bit too much like the western world, we've also gone to the cinema and seen the indoor theme park at Times Square Mall. At RM38 (approx £7) it's slightly over our budget to allow us in. We've been staying at the Oasis Guest House right on China Town, and they've got a great social area on the top floor and roof where we've met some great people (Becca, Carys, keep on geeking it up girls, Steve, Shaun, KL Oasis Legends, and Alana who we also saw in Don Det in Laos 2 months ago, very random, good times!). Next stop, Melaka on the coast.

Koh Pha Ngan shenanigans

So Koh Chang is a rather more couply place than it is for backpackers. Our hostel, which was so out of the way is testament to that. Not that it wasn't nice. Our room was practically right over the ocean with the surf coming in below us. Loud, but pleasant nonetheless.

We took a bus to Bangkok which got us in in good time, and we stayed at our old haunt on Khaosan Road, the D&D. Nothing much to report about this one night in Bangkok, other than being spotted by an old work buddy from Potensis, Ryan, and joining him and his mates for drinks. Otherwise Khaosan Road was pretty much the same as before, just less water fighting and more lady-boys in attendance. Just look down and don't make eye contact...

The next day we took an overnight 18 hour journey to Koh Pha Ngan (pronounced co-pan-yang, don't ask me why). This comprised an 8 hour coach, followed by waiting, followed by a 20 minute minibus, followed by waiting, followed by another hour long coach, followed by waiting, followed by a 2 hour ferry. Not exactly the trip from hell, just long and tedious! The ferry crossing at 11am however was gorgeous, with amazing scenery in front of and behind us.

We booked ourselves into a place called the Haad Gruad Beach Resort, popular with backpackers and lovely in its own way, but not convenient to get anywhere. Apart from the Black Moon party on the other side of the island (which I'll get to in good time) we haven't left. It is however right on the beach, and once more we find ourselves falling asleep to the sound of the surf.

Other than spend time by the pool and relaxing, on our second day we were invited to go on an overnight fishing trip. Not having to think either very long or hard about this, we both said yes pretty much immediately. We were picked up at around 4.30pm, and taken to the local 'port' which is frequented pretty much by fishing boats, each around 30-40ft long. Our captain was a 47 year old fisherman, and had been fishing for the past 20 years, his father and grandfather before him. A very helpful and convivial guy, he spent most of the time in the cabin smoking his bong. We didn't crash.

We sailed about an hour out from the coast, and then dropped anchor in the vicinity of a rock which is apparently great for scuba diving. We were given our rods and bait (dead squid) and set to. Pretty soon it got dark, and people started catching more squid. These were immediately transferred to our hooks, as nothing beats live squid fishing apparently.

Now I've never been fishing before, and I gotta say, I don't really think it's for me. The patience needed is not in me, however we had a good group of people and it was a friendly and relaxed atmosphere with beer and drinks, plus the fug of weed over us emanating from the cabin. I sat like a lemon for a good 4 hours, legs dangling over the edge of the prow, and finally figured that that tug I had about 3 hours ago had actually been a barracuda or shark biting clean through the line, taking my hook and bait with it. I gave in to a lost cause, and called it a night.

Others however had more luck. One German guy managed to catch a barracuda very early on, which the captain immediately, cleaned, gutted and cooked for us. It was pretty damn tasty I must say, but was slightly weird eating it having seen it wriggling around not 30 minutes previously. With only three people catching a fish apiece the whole night, the big story has to be Matt landing a 1.5ft grey reef shark. He needed help bringing it up, and as it was raised over the edge wriggled off the hook. It was slapping around on the deck for a good few minutes as the captain and his sons tried to batter it over the head. They finally managed it, but not before it scared Matt shitless as it slithered towards him (I was on the other side of the boat, and so could laugh from afar). Apart from that it was a rather uneventful night, other than trying to sleep in a swinging hammock on a windy sea. After smashing into the upright for the 30th time, enough was enough and I slept on the open deck.

We arrived back at the guesthouse at around 10 am the following morning, and proceeded to sleep the rest of the day away. We woke up around 5, chilled for a while and had the guest house cook our shark for us (delicious) and then made our way to the Black Moon party. For those who don't know, Koh Pha Ngan is famed for its Full, Half and Black Moon parties. On the other side of the Island, it's a fluorescent rave on the beach, complete with glow in the dark body paint and glow sticks. Apart from the fact you will get drunk, you will get offered copious amounts of drugs, there are people with fire poi and fire sticks showing off to appreciative crowds, and sand DOES get everywhere.

We finished up around 5am (early as it goes) and slept again till around midday. We're on our way to Krabi Island to meet up with Ryan again before we head over into Malaysia, as unfortunately our VISAs run out on the 29th. Good times all round.

Utopia, Bamboo Island, Volleyball and some beach bars

I decided that Sihanoukville deserved a bit more of a writeup than I gave it in the previous post. Building on the amazing prose 'it's a chilled beach side village' or some other crap I wrote, here it is in a bit more detail.

Sihanoukville is actually shaped a little bit like a mini Wales, and actually has 4 separate beaches. We were staying closest to Serendipity Beach which seemed to be the main backpacker hangout. The beach itself is quite big, with guest houses, bungalows and bars along the shoreline, however we stayed in a slightly more hotel-like place about 5 mins walk away. Our bathroom was still a wet-room but had the decency to be quite big, meaning we didn't flood it each time we had a shower. Add air con, a tv with great reception (including HBO) and a beautiful pool area, and we were made men.

Right across from us was another guesthouse called Monkey Republic with a great restaurant and bar, and was where we started off most nights after dinner. A great place to meet people, we even ran into two Lilly Cole lookalikes. Don't tell them I said that though cos they don't like Miss Cole. And there was me thinking red-heads stuck together...

Utopia, yet another guesthouse and bar, was next on the agenda each night, and boasted free beds in their dorm room for punters. Not the nicest by any means, this is however the first place we've found which offers free accommodation. With a few crazy westerners behind the bar, this establishment regularly (if somewhat haphazardly) offers free shots, sometimes for reasons as innocuous as the bar staff like the song that just came on. Normally consisting of one of them walking around with an upended bottle over your mouth, it was a bit hit and miss regarding how much you swallowed and how much you ended up wearing. They also had a wet t-shirt competition on a night we were wining and dining two British girls, so I can't tell you about it, but I heard it was an interesting night with locals and backpackers, girls and guys all involved, including the missus of the guy who owned it. She won apparently. Nobody say 'fix'...

As mentioned the beach had quite a few bars along it, however I never made it past the first one for no other reason than I was quite content not to get too sandy, but I had a great time there each night.

For those after a bit of activity, there are a number of islands just off the coast of Sihanoukville, and Matt and I took a day trip to go snorkeling around them. While I was chuffed to bits my underwater camera worked, it was a shame the water was so murky. I have very dark pictures of some fish (not that there were many) but a great one of Matt which I'll stick up shortly. Apart from snorkeling, I spent most of the afternoon playing volleyball with the locals. Regardless of the fact it's their national sport, and regardless of the fact they play every day, I hadn't played in 6 years and felt like the slowest and least coordinated of the lot. When you see a 5'4 Cambodian jumping to spike the ball over an 8ft net when it's an effort for you, you'll know what I mean.

A great lunch on the island of BBQ Baracuda went down extremely well, and a small trek to the other beach gave us a slightly different but mostly similar perspective on things there: no electricity, no creature comforts, just bungalows and chilled beer.

As far as backpacker resorts go, this is probably the first one where so many people seem to stay for longer than a week, especially on Bamboo Island where they go to get away from it all. Some we spoke to had been there month, with others intending to stay till Christmas. All in all I can see why, and I was definitely falling prey to sitting by the pool or on the beach and having a few drinks in the evening as my new way of life. Matt however brought us back down to earth, and we're now in Koh Chang, an island just over the border into Thailand which deservedly holds national park protection. A lot fewer people however, coupled with it not really being as backpacker oriented, has made our decision for us - tomorrow we're off to Bangkok again.

From Vietnam to Cambodia - we've done it all!

Nah Trang was another busride away from Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon. Apart from being extremely commercial and Americanised, they do have the Cu Chi Tunnels, what the local militia used during the Vietnam war. Unfortunately a bout of flu floored me the day we were meant to go, so Matt traipsed off without me, and by all accounts I think it's the best thing he's done so far. Otherwise Saigon is a place to go and eat and drink.


Matt snoring in Saigon (with Batman Returns in the background)

From Saigon we took a 6 hour bus across the border into Cambodia, stopping at their capital city Phnom Penh (Phnom is pronounced 'Nom'). I took an earlier bus than Matt, and so booked us into a decent if slightly out of the way guest house. On going back to the bus station 5 hours later, I befriended a few tuk tuk drivers, one of which had amazing English thanks to spending 3 years in a grammar school. He told me that where we were staying wasn't all that, and suggested we move to another place closer to the lake the next day. We took him up on this, and he came to collect us. The new place, named simply 'number 11' was a more backpacker oriented place, and had a restaurant and bar on stilts over the lake itself.

For those in the dark, Cambodia suffered from Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge regime back in the 70s. He is credited with killing 2 million Cambodians, waging war on the rich and the educated. Around 20,000 Architects and Engineers were murdered during his reign. This is memorialised by 2 sight-seeing areas. The first is the S21 Prison, where around 20,000 Khmer and 7 foreign journalists were incarcerated. The buildings used to be one of the leading schools in the region, but were converted into prison use in a rather barbaric fashion. Out of the 20,000 prisoners, only 7 are thought to have survived.

Most prisoners weren't killed in the prison, rather bussed to what is now known as the Killing Fields, the most famous about 15km outside Phnom Penh at Cheong Ek village. This particular killing field has approximately 86 mass graves, each of which holds between 50 and 400 bodies. One particular one contained solely women and babies, next to which you can see a tree, and a mark on a tree. The soldiers would hold the babies by their legs and swing them against this tree head first, hence the mark. My camera died that morning, and so unfortunately I have no pictures, but suffice it to say the whole experience is very chilling and sobering.

After two days in Phnom Penh (and having won $5 in a poker tournament, enough for a decent meal and a night's stay!) we took another bus to Siem Reap. The famed Angkor Wat is here, but again you can see the destruction caused by Pol Pot's government. While they are now restoring the monuments, a lot of the statues had their heads cut off by the Khmer Rouge soldiers. We did however get to see the temple used in the Tomb Raider film, an extremely impressive structure with huge white trees protruding from their roofs and entwined around struts. We got up at 4am to go and see the temple for sunrise, and when I get my pictures online I'll add some as they are truly spectacular.

We are now in Sihanoukville (pronounced Sin-ook-vill), a beachside village which is extremely chilled. Cambodians in general have extremely good English, but the towns themselves are extremely dirty, and ridden with hawkers trying to sell you things. I did however have one interesting chat with a girl of 10 who was trying to sell me something as I had a drink at Angkor Wat:

Girl approaches: You want buy something, only $1 (she pulls out various bracelets and trinkets)

Me: No thanks, I don't want anything

Girl: You want nothing?

Me: Yes I want nothing

Girl: Nothing costs $1, you buy this, better value

Me: Ate-Okun (no thanks)

Girl: Ah you speak Khmer, where you from?

Me: London

Girl: I tell you name of Queen, name of Prime Minister, how many people live in London, you buy something

Me laughing: No thanks, that's alright

Girl: You know capital of Madagascar?

Me: No I don't

Girl: I tell you capital and you buy

Me: How about you tell me capital and I tell you capital of Alaska?

Girl: I already know capital of Alaska, is Juno

Me: *speechless*

The patter this 10 yr old had, plus her intelligence left me dumfounded. Obviously they go to great lengths to try and sell things, but this one hawker had a lot more in her head than the average Khmer I'd spoken to.

There's also a lot of beggars in Cambodia, a lot more than I've found anywhere else so far. It's difficult not to give to everyone you see, and I've given to one person who approached while I was actually eating, but unfortunately it's not possible to make a habit out of it.

Otherwise the Khmer people are extremely friendly and helpful, if a bit on the aggressive side. People travelling in Cambodia seem to be more grass roots kind of people, and there are very few western holiday makers. I'd definitely recommend it however to anybody thinking of taking a vacation in this part of the world.

We're going to stay in Sihanoukville for a few days now, recharge after a few very early morning starts (4am and 5am two days running with little sleep inbetween) and then begin to island hop our way back to Thailand.

Culture, beaches galore and a downpour

From Hanoi we took an overnight sleeper train for 12 hours south along the coast to Hue. Much more comfortable than the one we had in Thailand, there were only 4 beds to a cabin, and I was able to get a much needed 8 hours sleep at least.

Hue is the old capital of Vietnam, and as such is afforded a lot of prestige by the locals. While thereare a lot of tombs to visit, plus a citadel, Matt and I only stayed here for a day and a night. We didmanage to squeeze in a visit to the Citadel, what was the Emperor's abode back in the day, but I must say I was rather disappointed with it. It is rather extensive, as you might expect, with various buildings dedicated to family members and specific activities, and the years have not been particularly kind to it. It has obviously been maintained to a certain extent, but at least half of it is covered in scaffolding and rather dilapidated. I must admit to getting slightly disillusioned with it and not seeing the final third, however Matt assures me it was the best part. I'll try and get some pics off him.

We'd rented some bikes again for the day, and spent an hour looking for the tomb of Tu Duc (somebody important way back when). I actually really enjoyed this. Rather than just a tomb, you find yourself in a walled estate some 2 hectares big, housing the tomb itself, but also living quarters, a lake, a boathouse and various other accoutrement. This was also used as a summer home for various members of royalty, hence the living quarters and plush landscaping. Apparently there are other tombs and temples which still sport bullet holes left over from the Vietnam conflict in the 60's and bit of the 70's, but we weren't able to travel far enough to find those, much to my disappointment.

From Hue to Hoi An was a short (4 hour) bus ride in relative comfort. One of my favourite places so far, it has oodles of charm, from the French architecture to the beach to the people themselves. The best English speaking by far, old or young even the street sellers and those walking around with books or cigarettes have a lexicon and understanding of our language which surpassed my expectations. We were able to rent bicycles and pedal the 4km to the beach, which was stunning. We ate amazing food in restaurants styled after the Spanish, Italian and French palettes. One of the only things we didn't do was buy a suit from one of the 100+ tailor shops in town. Pretty much every girl we spoke to however had bought a dress or two, and so we felt like they'd bought enough for all of us. We ran into people we'd met in Hanoi (not really that surprising) and had a very good few days of it, including some girls from Melbourne who've offered to show us around when we're there.

Unfortunately time constraints proved restrictive, and after only two nights there we were on yet another overnight sleeper bus to Nah Trang. I shouldn't really be writing about it as we're still here, but this town is like the Miami of Vietnam. Taller buildings, rather commercial, but boy oh boy is the beach a gem. Actually forget about that, the best bit really does have to be the food. Yes I know I've raved about it at pretty much each place I've been, but when you eat out every night, you get a taste for what is good and what isn't. This evening I had a delicious plate of pan-fried swordfish (I saw them take mine out of the tank) accompanied by sauteéd potatoes with bacon and rice. How much did I pay? 80,000 Dong, or for those in the UK, less than 4 quid. For everything. Add on the free cocktail on entrance (tasted like tropical fruit juice) and a free beer, and really, I could stay here forever. The rest of the food has easily been on a par. The only slight dampener on the trip was the explosive storm we had earlier, which left the main streets flooded up to our knees, but even that isn't enough to put me the slightest bit off Nah Trang.

We've spoken to a couple of war vets, including one guy who worked as an interpreter to the American Army when he was 16. It's a rather depressing tale, as once the US forces packed up and turned tail, he was left to deal with the victorious North Vietnamese Communist regime. This entailed four (yes, 4) years of 're-education' where he was taught how to be a 'true Vietnamese citizen'. As a result, nearly 40 years on and he has been left in the lurch. He was never given a job due to his activities with the Americans, and while government policy is now a form of free socialism, i.e. if you have money you can run your own business etc., he has neither the wherewithal nor the skills to either run a business, nor be employed it seems.

Snorkelling and diving are the main reasons to come here, and tomorrow with some luck we snorkel (Matt caught a bit of sun yesterday and is in pain, he's very lobsterish right now) but if we don't do that, then there are some hotsprings and natural mudbaths to visit, followed by a massage. More on that later...