My day
5 hours. 142 km. 1 boat. 1 pony-cart. 2 van rides. 2 rides in the back of pickup trucks. 1 van had 810,794 km on the odometer, and from the looks of it, the odometer stopped running somewhere around 1986. 1 van, which I would have said had 10 seats, at one point had 24 people in it. For a while it was so full that we couldn't close the door. During that ride I was being interviewed by all the passengers through the one woman on board who spoke English. Her English wasn't very good. On one of the pickup trucks, the driver stopped, reached under the dashboard, twisted some wires together and music came on. From an mp3 player. The other pickup truck's engine died 4 times, and took 20-30 seconds to start each time. This all cost
me about 6 dollars.
The place I'm staying has Internet, which it gets by plugging a cell phone into the computer. Tethering, I suppose is the term.
At dinner at a restaurant they played a dire straits album.
Oh, and the sand on the beach here is about the consistency of dippin' dots. You sink down to the ankle every step, it's like walking through knee-high snow.
I think susan Sarandon said it best -- physical exhaustion can be spiritually exhilarating.
Saturday, 9 May 2009
Friday, 24 April 2009
I'm in Bali. Flew in a couple days ago.
This pasted in from an email I just wrote:
Went out and surfed for an hour and a half or so. rented from some random guy on the beach (there are about 100 such guys on the beach), 5 dollars or so for 2 hours, he gave me a couple tips and sent me on my way (would have been happy to teach me for a price), after 30 minutes or so I felt like I was going to throw up I was so exhausted and had swallowed so much water. took a 15 minute break, went out for another 45, taking it easier, and nearly killing myself.
Surfing is like skiing would be, if you had to walk uphill while people pelted you with snowballs. at least that's how you have to start. to practice getting in the wave and standing up, you have to be in the shallows, where the waves have already broken, and just get them as they go by, trying standing, fall off, go out again, try again, maybe stand up for a few seconds, fall off, try again. the problem with this, is that you are either standing in chest deep water, or on the board, going out as wave after wave comes by (already broken, torrent of whitewater), this is relatively fine when you're on your own, but horrible when you have a 9 foot surf board that you have to get through these waves, over and over again. After 30 minutes of this, I was basically just completely dead. so I laid on the beach, got a drink, took 15 minutes or so, but I'd paid for 2 hours of this, so damned if I was going to stop now.
The thing is, all the good surfers go out once, sit on their boards past where all but the biggest waves break, and wait for their ride. then if they don't get it perfectly, they pull up and paddle 5 feet back to where they were. So only when they get a good ride to they have to face what I just faced. I decided I was going to do that, except without the waves. so I just paddled out once, laid and sat on my board for 20 or 30 minutes, out past the waves. it was nice, pleasant, took some time getting the feel and balance of the board, still fell off 10 times just sitting on it in the calm, so it was still a learning experience. the I decided I'd try taking wave, got a big one, just as I'm getting into it, my board is suddenly gone from under me, I'm alone and just crash down the wave and get, using the words of the guy who rented me the board, "laundered". basically I felt like i was going to be bent in half backwards, and probably wasn't that far from it. After that I sat out on the board a bit longer, then went in and took a few smaller waves, got a few pretty decent waves, felt pretty good about myself, brought my board up and laid on the sand for an hour or so.
Good times.
If I didn't hurt so many places, I might have gone out again this afternoon, as horribly as I did, and as awful as I felt after a while, it is addicting. I'm leaving this town tomorrow though, and from the looks of it, there's not really any other spots on bali where an idiot like me can surf without killing himself. If I had the right group of people around and some more time, I could see staying here for a couple of weeks and surfing, but I'm alone, and when I'm alone I just have to move on, wander the earth, searching for somewhere a little more beautiful. It's a heck of a beach here, it really is. huge beach, good sand, good surf (I found a good spot and went body surfing for an hour tonight), but it ain't beautiful. Going to another island tomorrow. Nusa Lembongan.
This pasted in from an email I just wrote:
Went out and surfed for an hour and a half or so. rented from some random guy on the beach (there are about 100 such guys on the beach), 5 dollars or so for 2 hours, he gave me a couple tips and sent me on my way (would have been happy to teach me for a price), after 30 minutes or so I felt like I was going to throw up I was so exhausted and had swallowed so much water. took a 15 minute break, went out for another 45, taking it easier, and nearly killing myself.
Surfing is like skiing would be, if you had to walk uphill while people pelted you with snowballs. at least that's how you have to start. to practice getting in the wave and standing up, you have to be in the shallows, where the waves have already broken, and just get them as they go by, trying standing, fall off, go out again, try again, maybe stand up for a few seconds, fall off, try again. the problem with this, is that you are either standing in chest deep water, or on the board, going out as wave after wave comes by (already broken, torrent of whitewater), this is relatively fine when you're on your own, but horrible when you have a 9 foot surf board that you have to get through these waves, over and over again. After 30 minutes of this, I was basically just completely dead. so I laid on the beach, got a drink, took 15 minutes or so, but I'd paid for 2 hours of this, so damned if I was going to stop now.
The thing is, all the good surfers go out once, sit on their boards past where all but the biggest waves break, and wait for their ride. then if they don't get it perfectly, they pull up and paddle 5 feet back to where they were. So only when they get a good ride to they have to face what I just faced. I decided I was going to do that, except without the waves. so I just paddled out once, laid and sat on my board for 20 or 30 minutes, out past the waves. it was nice, pleasant, took some time getting the feel and balance of the board, still fell off 10 times just sitting on it in the calm, so it was still a learning experience. the I decided I'd try taking wave, got a big one, just as I'm getting into it, my board is suddenly gone from under me, I'm alone and just crash down the wave and get, using the words of the guy who rented me the board, "laundered". basically I felt like i was going to be bent in half backwards, and probably wasn't that far from it. After that I sat out on the board a bit longer, then went in and took a few smaller waves, got a few pretty decent waves, felt pretty good about myself, brought my board up and laid on the sand for an hour or so.
Good times.
If I didn't hurt so many places, I might have gone out again this afternoon, as horribly as I did, and as awful as I felt after a while, it is addicting. I'm leaving this town tomorrow though, and from the looks of it, there's not really any other spots on bali where an idiot like me can surf without killing himself. If I had the right group of people around and some more time, I could see staying here for a couple of weeks and surfing, but I'm alone, and when I'm alone I just have to move on, wander the earth, searching for somewhere a little more beautiful. It's a heck of a beach here, it really is. huge beach, good sand, good surf (I found a good spot and went body surfing for an hour tonight), but it ain't beautiful. Going to another island tomorrow. Nusa Lembongan.
Sunday, 19 April 2009
The mighty Durian
I have finally eaten the mighty durian. This means nothing to you, of course, but for me it's a big deal. 10 years ago, I read a newspaper article about the durian. Apparently there's this fruit, called the durian, it looks weird, it smells pretty terrible, some hotels ban it. it doesn't travel well at all, and it pretty much only available in malaysia and indonesia, where it is considered a delicacy. the mighty durian, king of all the fruits. and me, 15 years old, I thought to myself, this is exactly what I should be doing with my life. Going out and trying things like durians. Well now I do. booyah.
Also, I got hit on by a middle aged indian man today. So there's that.
Also, I got hit on by a middle aged indian man today. So there's that.
Sunday, 12 April 2009
Truly Asia
Alright, some quick updates on my life, I managed to get out of
Thailand a few days before a state of emergency was declared in
Bangkok. Great country, Thailand. People protest until the military
overthrows the government and installs a new one. Then a few months
later the other side tries the same thing to try to get the old one
back. Or at least that's my interpretation based on the 2 minutes I
spent researching the situation.
Anyway, on to Malaysia. Nice place, Malaysia. More developed, fewer
tourists. Or at least fewer white tourists. I'm in the cameron
highlands now, which is clearly a tourist town, but not that many
white people. Malay tourists, some folks down from Singapore. I feel
like the white people who are here are mostly expats down from KL for
a quick holiday.
Anyway, I got a flight out of kuala lumpur on April 22nd down to Bali
for a few weeks. So I don't have much time in Malaysia, though I'm
coming back for a couple days at the end before flying from KL to
London. Still deciding how I'll spend my time here. Maybe I'll write a
"philosophy of travel" post on that later today.
Thailand a few days before a state of emergency was declared in
Bangkok. Great country, Thailand. People protest until the military
overthrows the government and installs a new one. Then a few months
later the other side tries the same thing to try to get the old one
back. Or at least that's my interpretation based on the 2 minutes I
spent researching the situation.
Anyway, on to Malaysia. Nice place, Malaysia. More developed, fewer
tourists. Or at least fewer white tourists. I'm in the cameron
highlands now, which is clearly a tourist town, but not that many
white people. Malay tourists, some folks down from Singapore. I feel
like the white people who are here are mostly expats down from KL for
a quick holiday.
Anyway, I got a flight out of kuala lumpur on April 22nd down to Bali
for a few weeks. So I don't have much time in Malaysia, though I'm
coming back for a couple days at the end before flying from KL to
London. Still deciding how I'll spend my time here. Maybe I'll write a
"philosophy of travel" post on that later today.
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
I think it's about time I do a bit of writing on the philosophy of travel. not in a general sense, or an ethical sense, just in the sense of what I think about traveling. In general. Specifically, I'm going to write a series of posts on why I travel (or at least I say it'll be a series, but really I'll write the things I actually want to write about first, then quickly fizzle out). Here we go with part 1, which I'll call:
The part where I do whatever the ***k I want.
Let me describe to a great day I had a few weeks back. I woke up in Chiang Mai, in Northern Thailand. I thought to myself, I'm tired of this town, let's move on. So I got up, packed my bag, paid for my room and walked away. An hour or so later, I'd walked to the bus station in Chiang Mai. I was going to Laos, and my guidebook said I could take a bus to Chiang Rai, where they had buses to Chiang Khong, where I could cross the border. Sounded simple enough. I get to the bus station, look around, a random guy sitting down asks me where I'm going, I say Chiang Rai, he says "I think they're the only ones who go there, points to a desk selling tickets". I thank him, stand in line for 10 minutes, and get a ticket (133 baht) for a bus leaving in 5 minutes. I get on and go. 4 hours later, I'm in Chiang Rai. I walk off the bus, look across the bus station parking lot, and there is a bus sitting there that says Chiang Khong on it. I walk on to the bus, sit down, a lady walks up to me, writes 65 on her hand, I hand her 65 baht. I lean out the window and buy some chips, sticky rice, pork and a coke from some lady who had all these things hanging from a pole. 3 bone-rattling, nauseating, scorchingly hot hours later, I was in Chiang Khong, where I paid a guy 20 baht to drive me to the border on his scooter. I checked out of thailand, I hopped on a small boat for 40 baht, I paid Laos $36 and walked into town. spent 20 minutes or so deciding between the 10 guesthouses in town, then enjoyed a Beer-Lao and plate of fried noodles while watching a mediocre sunset over the Mekong. I slept on a mattress on the floor that night, and paid about $3.50 for it.
So what's the point of that story? Why was that a great day? Because I woke up, decided to do something, and did exactly that. With no plans, no real idea if it would work, only vague instructions from a 5 year old guide book. It's really impossible to overstate the satisfaction of that. That's why travel is great, because you can decide to do whatever you feel like doing, and often actually do manage it.
It doesn't always work out like that. I woke up this morning and was going to buy a ticket to take the train to malaysia tomorrow. No dice. sold out. Maybe I should have planned further ahead, but what's the satisfaction in that. You have to be fully prepared to accept the consequences, make any compromise, bear any burden. It's a small price to pay for total freedom. So tomorrow, I'm going to wake up, go to the bus station and see about getting myself to malaysia. Maybe I'll get there, maybe I'll end up sleeping on the side of the road midway down thailand. maybe I'll end up right back here, a complete failure. I can live with all 3 of those. That's travel.
The part where I do whatever the ***k I want.
Let me describe to a great day I had a few weeks back. I woke up in Chiang Mai, in Northern Thailand. I thought to myself, I'm tired of this town, let's move on. So I got up, packed my bag, paid for my room and walked away. An hour or so later, I'd walked to the bus station in Chiang Mai. I was going to Laos, and my guidebook said I could take a bus to Chiang Rai, where they had buses to Chiang Khong, where I could cross the border. Sounded simple enough. I get to the bus station, look around, a random guy sitting down asks me where I'm going, I say Chiang Rai, he says "I think they're the only ones who go there, points to a desk selling tickets". I thank him, stand in line for 10 minutes, and get a ticket (133 baht) for a bus leaving in 5 minutes. I get on and go. 4 hours later, I'm in Chiang Rai. I walk off the bus, look across the bus station parking lot, and there is a bus sitting there that says Chiang Khong on it. I walk on to the bus, sit down, a lady walks up to me, writes 65 on her hand, I hand her 65 baht. I lean out the window and buy some chips, sticky rice, pork and a coke from some lady who had all these things hanging from a pole. 3 bone-rattling, nauseating, scorchingly hot hours later, I was in Chiang Khong, where I paid a guy 20 baht to drive me to the border on his scooter. I checked out of thailand, I hopped on a small boat for 40 baht, I paid Laos $36 and walked into town. spent 20 minutes or so deciding between the 10 guesthouses in town, then enjoyed a Beer-Lao and plate of fried noodles while watching a mediocre sunset over the Mekong. I slept on a mattress on the floor that night, and paid about $3.50 for it.
So what's the point of that story? Why was that a great day? Because I woke up, decided to do something, and did exactly that. With no plans, no real idea if it would work, only vague instructions from a 5 year old guide book. It's really impossible to overstate the satisfaction of that. That's why travel is great, because you can decide to do whatever you feel like doing, and often actually do manage it.
It doesn't always work out like that. I woke up this morning and was going to buy a ticket to take the train to malaysia tomorrow. No dice. sold out. Maybe I should have planned further ahead, but what's the satisfaction in that. You have to be fully prepared to accept the consequences, make any compromise, bear any burden. It's a small price to pay for total freedom. So tomorrow, I'm going to wake up, go to the bus station and see about getting myself to malaysia. Maybe I'll get there, maybe I'll end up sleeping on the side of the road midway down thailand. maybe I'll end up right back here, a complete failure. I can live with all 3 of those. That's travel.
Monday, 6 April 2009
things they don't tell you about southeast asia in the guidebook:
Your know in the cartoon where the sun comes up, the first ray of sun
hits the rooster, who then crows once? well here's what really
happens. The rooster starts crowing at about 4am, and doesn't stop
until 10 or so. There is a rooster directly outside your window no
matter where you are staying, be it a city of 15 million people, or an
island that has 2 dozen people living off of cashews. On the plus
side, eating chicken is more fun now that you hate them.
There are stray dogs everywhere. I'm going to start a charity that
just goes around the world and neuters dogs. wouldn't that be fun?
wouldn't everyone support that? on the plus side, they're all very
friendly and I haven't heard of anyone with rabies yet.
Every traveler is wearing one of 5 t-shirts. They sell more than 5
t-shirts over here, but only 5 would anyone buy (yes yes, you'll see
the occasional lunatic you decided it was a good idea to buy that
"Coma Sutra" t-shirt, complete with 5 stick figure drawings, but it's
pretty rare). Most people stick to asian beer t-shirts, and same
same... but different. I'm currently wearing the most innocuos of the
5 t-shirts: a coca-cola t-shirt, but in thai script. when you refuse
to carry more that 2 t-shirts, eventually you're going to buy a
t-shirt over here. it was only 4 dollars.
The more touristy a place is, the more the locals have developed ways
to make money off of you in every way possible. After a while in
thailand, you are truly shocked when someone asks you where you're
going, you tell them, and then they give you walking directions. what?
you don't want to drive me in your friend's tuk-tuk for 40 baht?
you're just being nice? what the hell? On the other hand, very few
people are trying to actually scam you, it happens, but is usually
pretty obvious. if someone says they'll take you somewhere for 100
baht, then they'll do it. they're just trying to make a living.
In other news, I'm going to malaysia in a day or two.
hits the rooster, who then crows once? well here's what really
happens. The rooster starts crowing at about 4am, and doesn't stop
until 10 or so. There is a rooster directly outside your window no
matter where you are staying, be it a city of 15 million people, or an
island that has 2 dozen people living off of cashews. On the plus
side, eating chicken is more fun now that you hate them.
There are stray dogs everywhere. I'm going to start a charity that
just goes around the world and neuters dogs. wouldn't that be fun?
wouldn't everyone support that? on the plus side, they're all very
friendly and I haven't heard of anyone with rabies yet.
Every traveler is wearing one of 5 t-shirts. They sell more than 5
t-shirts over here, but only 5 would anyone buy (yes yes, you'll see
the occasional lunatic you decided it was a good idea to buy that
"Coma Sutra" t-shirt, complete with 5 stick figure drawings, but it's
pretty rare). Most people stick to asian beer t-shirts, and same
same... but different. I'm currently wearing the most innocuos of the
5 t-shirts: a coca-cola t-shirt, but in thai script. when you refuse
to carry more that 2 t-shirts, eventually you're going to buy a
t-shirt over here. it was only 4 dollars.
The more touristy a place is, the more the locals have developed ways
to make money off of you in every way possible. After a while in
thailand, you are truly shocked when someone asks you where you're
going, you tell them, and then they give you walking directions. what?
you don't want to drive me in your friend's tuk-tuk for 40 baht?
you're just being nice? what the hell? On the other hand, very few
people are trying to actually scam you, it happens, but is usually
pretty obvious. if someone says they'll take you somewhere for 100
baht, then they'll do it. they're just trying to make a living.
In other news, I'm going to malaysia in a day or two.
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
So I've been out of touch for a while, wasn't up to much for a while, just floated around northern thailand for 10 days or so, got sick though and wasn't able to do all the stuff I wanted though, didn't get to take a cooking class, which would have been fun. I moved on though, on to Lao, which is lovely. took a two day boat down the Mekong, which was oustanding. If you ever get a chance to take a boat down a river, do it. trust me.
I'm in Vang Vieng now, which is really strange. really nice river that you can float down in a tube, mountains, caves, cool stuff, but then there's just an insane party scene, tons of strung-out hippies. all the people working at the bars are just working for free drugs, and look like it. It's partly a really cool place that I could see spending a week in, and partly it just scares me and I want to get out of here. I haven't actually been tubing, but from what I hear, it's basically devolved into a few insane bars on the river that you go to and get trashed, swim between
them and injure yourself on ropeswings. the two scots and englishman who I'm staying with are into actually getting tubes and going 10 km down the river with a couple of beers though, so hopefully we'll do that today. maybe go back to some caves tomorrow, went to some yesterday with some american folks I found, we went about a quarter mile into a cave before we decided to turn back, I'd love to go back prepared with water and food and just go as far as possible in the cave. Like I said, cool place, but absolutely terrifying, some of these people here. not because I think I could ever become like them. just looking at them is scary. I think my waiter yesterday was gary busey's son, you know, the one in starship troopers.
in any case, I'll probably be out of laos in a few days, and either on to cambodia, or straight down to malaysia, with a couple day stop in bangkok either way (you can't really get to cambodia without going through bangkok. you can't get anywhere without going through bangkok). I'd kind of like to go back to koh tao for a bit, know a few people who will be there, but I've decided I'm not going to be that
kind of traveler, I need to move on. so malaysia for a bit, maybe cambodia for a bit (I'd really like to see angkor wat, the rest, I'll see how much time I end up with) , definitely 3-4 weeks in indonesia though.
I've been traveling with people and splitting rooms with people in Laos the thing about laos is there's only like 4 places that people travel to, so you just see the same people over and over again, so pretty soon you know everyone, but I'm getting pretty tired of it. I'm gonna need to break free and be on my own again for a while. I like being able to do exactly what I want when I want to. it's nice, for a while.
I'm in Vang Vieng now, which is really strange. really nice river that you can float down in a tube, mountains, caves, cool stuff, but then there's just an insane party scene, tons of strung-out hippies. all the people working at the bars are just working for free drugs, and look like it. It's partly a really cool place that I could see spending a week in, and partly it just scares me and I want to get out of here. I haven't actually been tubing, but from what I hear, it's basically devolved into a few insane bars on the river that you go to and get trashed, swim between
them and injure yourself on ropeswings. the two scots and englishman who I'm staying with are into actually getting tubes and going 10 km down the river with a couple of beers though, so hopefully we'll do that today. maybe go back to some caves tomorrow, went to some yesterday with some american folks I found, we went about a quarter mile into a cave before we decided to turn back, I'd love to go back prepared with water and food and just go as far as possible in the cave. Like I said, cool place, but absolutely terrifying, some of these people here. not because I think I could ever become like them. just looking at them is scary. I think my waiter yesterday was gary busey's son, you know, the one in starship troopers.
in any case, I'll probably be out of laos in a few days, and either on to cambodia, or straight down to malaysia, with a couple day stop in bangkok either way (you can't really get to cambodia without going through bangkok. you can't get anywhere without going through bangkok). I'd kind of like to go back to koh tao for a bit, know a few people who will be there, but I've decided I'm not going to be that
kind of traveler, I need to move on. so malaysia for a bit, maybe cambodia for a bit (I'd really like to see angkor wat, the rest, I'll see how much time I end up with) , definitely 3-4 weeks in indonesia though.
I've been traveling with people and splitting rooms with people in Laos the thing about laos is there's only like 4 places that people travel to, so you just see the same people over and over again, so pretty soon you know everyone, but I'm getting pretty tired of it. I'm gonna need to break free and be on my own again for a while. I like being able to do exactly what I want when I want to. it's nice, for a while.
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