Long beach on Perhentian Kecil

We shared a taxi into Kota Baharu, from where we'd be able to get a taxi to the port in the morning. Used a map in my Lonely Planet, and actually found what I was looking for. Got a ticket from the Guesthouse for the speedboat to the Perhentian Islands for the morning. This also included the price of the taxi to the port at 8 the next morning. Somehow I slept through my alarm (though to be fair it is just my ipod's alarm turned up to maximum), and was woken by banging on my door at 8 telling me my taxi was waiting. Everything was shoved into the backpack and I dived into the cab offering my sincere apologies to my travel companions not only for my lateness, but for my not having time to shower. The speedboat to the Island was amazing. The guy just floored it.

My 'chalet' on Perhentian Kecil

View from my chalet in Perhentian Kecil

My fellow learners and me

There are two Phi Phi Islands, with the smaller one (Phi Phi Ley), being the one that was used for The Beach movie. The Thai government wanted to keep at least one fairly untouched, so no 'development' is allowed on Ley; it's all restricted to the bigger island. Both are still stunningly beautiful. The larger island is basically 2 parallel sets of hills joined in the middle by arcs of sand. This creates 2 bays and 2 main beaches (though one is now primarily just a harbour), with a small town in the middle. I took this photo from a viewpoint on one of the hills.


From this, you can see why Phi Phi was hit so badly by the Tsunami - such a thin, flat strip of land. It's only really beginning to properly recover. Over 2,000 people died on the island, the majority of which were tourists hitting the beach first thing. There are now warning signs around the beaches. However with the advice consisting of "run to higher ground", I'm not sure how much good they would really do. At one end of the main beach there is a memorial garden for the victims of the Tsunami. I'm not usually one to say this or that really affected me in any great way - I'm almost perpetually and frustratingly underwhelmed. Perhaps that's why I came travelling. But anyway, walking around this beautiful little garden, decorated with various things that were washed up by the Tsunami, and then seeing the wall with plaques of names of some of the people that died, and photos with notes from relatives... Well, it was very moving. I think it's added to by the fact that there's still a lot of obvious work going on in the clear-up. It makes it all very real rather than just some abstract tragedy. But, as I say, there were plenty of tourists on the Island when I arrived, and it was getting busier and busier, which is what the Island and the people need more than anything.

The Guesthouse I found on the Island was called Ban Thai, and I mention this because the woman that ran it, Mrs Lee, was an absolute legend, and I highly recommend staying there if you get the chance. She's like a mother hen looking after her brood - she runs a tight ship and keeps everyone in line, but goes out of her way to do everything she can to help you out. She learns everyones' names and always asks how you are and where you're off to. When I arrived she was bollocking this Israeli guy for being late, and when I checked in she told me, "don't be stupid" and put loo roll in the toilet. Wouldn't dream of it Mrs Lee.

Every evening I ended up at "Hippies Bar", where I met more and more Irish every night, with pretty much everyone going off to Australia. With all these Irish around me talking about how Australia was the land of opportunity, was the place to go for a better life, how they didn't think they were going back, it was like being taken back 100 years ago to when the Irish flooded to the States.

With the Coup in Bangkok a curfew had been set in place, which I hadn't had the opportunity to notice at Railay. It meant that no music was allowed to be played after 12 for the next 2 weeks. They could serve drinks, but couldn't play music. This seemed pretty pointless to me, as people still stayed out till the morning regardless of the lack of music.

spent one of the days here on a boat and snorkeling trip around the Islands with 4 Canadians and an English girl from my Guesthouse. Had a really cool day relaxing amongst some of the best scenary I'd seen so far. We went to Shark Point (which was sadly devoid of sharks), Bamboo Island, Monkey Island (where I wanted to resume battle, but they weren't up for a fight. Cowards), and finally Maya Bay on Phi Phi Ley. Unfortunately we arrived at low tide, but it was still pretty spectacular.

Mrs Lee woke me up on my last morning on Phi Phi to make sure I caught the 9 O'Clock ferry back to Krabi. She'd organised my whole journey down to Malaysia. She wished me a safe trip and I was on my way.

written by  olliejohnson on September 21, 2006 from Krabi, Thailand
from the travel blog: A man from Cockshutt.
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Of course I'd heard that this was probably going to happen from other travellers, but it's still a bit of a surprise when you see it. The reason (as I understand it,)for this armed 'guard' on most journeys between Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang, is due to the linking road (Route 13) having been attacked by bandits fairly heavily in the past. However, I'm really not sure what good it would do anyone to have one armed guy on the bus against a group of armed guys attacking the bus. Personally, I'd much rather that guns were taken out of the bus altogether, so that there was no need for anyone to fire one at anybody else. Luckily though, our trip was bandit free. I don't think our guard was up to much anyway - he spent the whole time sleeping, with his gun poking him in the side, as likely to shoot himself in his sleep than defend us against any outside terrors.

The route for the first 4 hours takes you over and around the most windy mountains you could possibly imagine. And the bus driver didn't like to break too often. So, although I'd managed to get a double seat to myself, any thoughts of lying down for a kip soon went out the window, as I'd either slam my head into the wall, or slide off the seat altogether. Eventually we arrived in Vang Vieng in one piece, and I got a room for about $2 a night.

Vang Vieng is a really weird place. It sort of springs up in the middle of nowhere. It's on part of a massive dusty flat plain, with mountains reaching up to one side and far in the distance; and the river running beside it manages to remain hidden until you're actually on it. The town seems to exist soley because of the backpackers going through it. It's a bit of a surreal place - almost like Las Vegas in that you're not sure if there is a real heart to it anymore, or whether it's just an exotic Centre Parcs.

The Guesthouse I was staying in was one of those that showed Friends from about 8 in the morning to 11-11:30 at night. And, as with most of the bars and restaurants in Vang Vieng, it had really comfortable seating (consisting of raised platforms with loads of cushions and pillows, and a small table in the middle) which, once you'd sat down, was so comfy that it was difficult to sum up the energy to get back up again. You could end up going somewhere for lunch and then staying there till closing time - on my first evening I put myself through 5 hours of Friends (series 10)in a paralysis of comfort. When I came down the nest morning, series 1 was back on, and so it goes on and on and on. Another bar showed Simpsons on a loop, with others showing various movies. On my last night I found one that had a load of Family Guy.

Apart from all this culture, I also managed a couple of day-trip type activities, one of which was the famous (among backpackers anyway) tubing along the river. You get given an old lorry-tyre tube, which you jump in and stop at the various bars along the route back to Vang Vieng. We started at around 1 as we'd heard that things didn't really get going until then, but it turned out that as it was the sunniest day for a long while, the river was absolutely packed. The bars were really good fun, and apart from serving beer and other drinks, had music and massive rope swings that took you really high above the water. We were having such a good time in the bars, that it began to get dark before we realised it - and we had to get the tubes back by dark,
a)because the hire-company asked that you do so, and
b)because otherwise we had no idea of where we were going or when to stop.
So, in a slight panic, our group of about a dozen quickly jumped in the tubes, tried to stick fairly close together, and hoped for the best. It turned out that we needn't have worried, as the neon lights of the bars beyond the finishing points guided us home.



I also spent a day kayaking, but there was only 3 of us doing it, so I had to share a kayak with our Lao guide, who soon quized me as to whether I was married and about my girlfriend. He told me that I should have 3 girlfriends, and although he explanied why, I couldn't really understand him. So I asked him whether he was married. He wasn't. Did he have a girlfriend. No. He laughed when I asked this. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, but was slightly reassured by the fact that if he tried anything on whilst on the kayak, I'd just capsize us.

We stopped to look at some caves later in the morning. The first one was the 'elephant cave', so called because there was a rock that looked like an elephant in it. And that was about it. There was some buddhist stuff in there too, and our guide (coincidentally called Row) decided it was time for a story. One that would sap our will to live, as it would plod on for the next 15 minutes, with Row using his great theatrical talents to give different voices to all the different characters. I think it was about a dragon that lived in the cave. The monk that lived in there too told him he was lazy. And then so did a monkey. The dragon said that he couldn't do anything else because the villagers were scared of him. So the monk said he could stay and guard the temple. There was no further mention of the monkey.

Then we went to another cave, this time semi-submerged, and to go through we laid on tubes and had to follow a rope. It was actually a bit more fun than I've just made it sound. Afterwards we kayaked back to Vang Vieng.

I'd heard through the grapevine that there really wasn't much to do in Vientiane, so I decided to just book a trip all the way back to Bangkok. This still gave me a couple of hours to have a look around Vientiane in between bus journeys. My impression of it is: it's still a bit French. Went over the 'Friendship bridge' back into Thailand and boarded our 'luxury' sleeper bus that would arrive in Bangkok at 7 in the morning.

written by  olliejohnson on September 12, 2006 from Vang Vieng, Laos
from the travel blog: A man from Cockshutt.
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Gun at the top of Phouset Hill

View from the top of Phouset Hill

The big waterfall at Khoung Si

A tiger

Anyway, the ride back wasn't so bad, as it was mostly downhill. I swallowed my pride and resorted to pushing the bike up any hills, whilst being overtaken by children on bikes without gears. Had a really good street buffet that evening before heading off to the now infamous Hive Bar for the night. Sensible planning, as I was getting picked up at my guesthouse the next morning at 7:30 for the dreaded bus to Vang Vieng.

written by  olliejohnson on September 10, 2006 from Luang Prabang, Laos
from the travel blog: A man from Cockshutt.
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Pak Beng. That's pretty much all there is to the town.

"You've heard of earthworm?", he asked me during our first conversation. I knew he was a Professor and that he was working in the area. So, for some reason I thought he was referring to some sort of 'project earthworm', that any Westerner with a heart should know about. Perhaps some kind of Oxfam-type scheme, where they don't just get a fish, they get a net so that they can do their own fishing. Work themselves out of poverty. That sort of thing. Yep, Project Earthworm. I was a big supporter already.

"Have I heard of Earthworm?" I attempted a serious, yet caring face. "I definately recognise the name, and the sort of area it's in, but I'm not exactly sure what it does if i'm honest."

This seemed to confuse him. It evidently wasn't the answer he was after. He resorted to simply repeating himself. "Earthworm." He waggled his finger. This, I understood.

"Oh the actual earthworm. Yeah,I know those." And so he went on to talk at me for half an hour about his earthworm fun. He'd been digging up the critters all over Laos, and had even found one 115cm long in the North. I wasn't sure if this was exceptional in the world of earthworms, so I ventured an entusiastic "wow! That's big!"

"No," he corrected. "Long, not big." Schoolboy error. Clearly, I still had a lot to learn about studying the earthworm.

My wads of Laos cash

Mist on mountains next to Mekong

We stopped soon after, so that madam could hop out for 5 minutes and get the two of them (her and the driver) some snacks for the journey, which she then tenderley fed him, oblivious to the 9 bodies sat right behind them, unable to look anywhere else but directly at them. She snuggled up to him, he put his arm around her, and she nuzzled into his nook. He'd gaze into her eyes, and almost kill us all by veering off the road. Then she began getting a bit fresh. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say, the driver was given a bit of light relief. What the hell are you supposed to do with that happening right in front of you?! All I could do was put my Ipod on and pretend to read.

Full moon over Laos, reflection in the Mekong

On the slow boat down the Mekong

Me being fearless on the slow boat

I'd heard that Chiang Mai airport was actually quite close to the city itself, so I stupidly decided to walk it when I arrived. Unfortunately, it was pissing down with rain when I arrived, but I decided to press on undeterred. I knew from my map that I had to walk roughly North-East, and I'd eventually come to a moat that pretty much marked the city centre. So I looked at the compass, and then packed it away in my backpack. As it was raining, I couldn't stop and unpack again to double check on route that I was still going in the right direction. But I didn't really see this as a problem, because once you know which way is North, it's not going to suddenly change is it? What I didn't take in to account is roads that bend. Up until now, most had been fairly straight.

An hour and a half later, and I should have hit the city centre by now, but, instead, I'm approaching a mountain with only a couple of shacks around me. Something had gone wrong. Fighting every manly instinct withing me, I swallowed my pride and asked around for directions, and eventually found someone who could understand me. She pointed back in roughly the direction I'd come from. I'd been heading West the whole time. 2 bours later, soaked to the skin, I made it to my destination.

Since then, I've had a great time here in Chiang Mai. I've visited the night market a couple of times, which is absolutley massive, and sells all sorts of things. You can pick up t-shirts for about a pound and trainers and sunglasses for just a bit more. I also spent an afternoon wandering around the temples in the city, and was lucky enough to be in one at a time when the monks had a chanting session (though one was on his Mobile at the start, which looked a little odd.) There was also a monk-school next door, where little wannabe monks learn their trade.

I then booked myself onto a 3 day trek up the mountains to the North of the city. Our guide, introduced as 'Jungle Jim', was an absolute legend, and kept us well entertained on the journey up to the village where we were staying that night. It was on the ridge at the top of a montain and gave some spectacular views. The villagers were really friendly, and we had an absolute feast cooked up for us.

As it began to get dark we were joined by 'Mr Whiskey', who brought what he described as moonshine, and the drinking games began. The main one we played had a penalty of a soot mark on the face as well as a shot, and we all got pretty wasted and covered in soot. Jungle Jim struggled the most, and had to quit about halfway through with various black smears all over his face. Together with his lack of upper front teeth, he would have looked a frightening prospect. This was confirmed soon after, as he wildly stumbled into the other groups' hut, babbling incoherantly and scaring the shit out of the occupants.

Mr Whiskey managed to last the night, and kept us very entertained with stories about being a guide up in the mountains. The best thing about Mr Whiskey was his very particular hatred of a nation. He detested Canadians. Coundn't stand them. He'd had too many experiences to think it was just bad luck. Apparently, it's pretty easy for the guides to make a 1 hour walk into a 5 hour walk, and he'd done this a few times for Canadian tourists. Luckily for us, we were Canadian free. Oleg, a young Israeli chap fresh from finishing his national service, caused great amusement when he thought the mosquito net above his bed was a hammock.

The next day, Jim showed us the village schoolroom, and we played a quick game that's like volleyball, except you use anything apart from your hands, and it's with a ball made from inter-twined bamboo. Then we treked to a couple of waterfalls, had a swim and then lunch. The hamlet we spent our last night at, was at the bottom of a valley, and next to a little river. The 'shower' was a little open-top bamboo cubicle, with a barrel of water and a saucepan. While I was in there, I saw some elephants mooching around in the jungle uphill from me. I suddenly felt like a proper traveller.

Next day we had a small walk to the elephant camp, and got ready for our ride. I'd heard that the ride could be a little uncomfortable if you sat around the neck, as the bristles on an elephant are very thick and wirey, and can cause a serious amount of chaffage. So I was only too happy when Oleg asked to be the one to go on the neck (though I felt a pang of guilt as he slide himself down wearing his 80's style short shorts.) I asked him whether he was comfortable, to which he gave a hesitant "I don't know" as a response.

Our elephant was a young, stubborn and slow female. And her name was Come, which I thought was quite an unusual one. The jungle walk itself led us up some almost vertical ravines, which we would inevitably have to go back down. Oleg suddenly said "I want down" to our guide, and before he even had a chance to reply, Oleg had swung his leg over and jumped off. This seemed to freak Come out a bit, which had me concerned too, as we were on a narrow path with a large drop to one side. I attempted to give her some vocal reassurance. She responded by walking upto and then ramming her head into the elephant in front, which then shat itself. The guides luckily managed to restore order as I was working out how best to survive a fall with an elephant in tow.

After the elephant ride, we got on a raft for some white-water action, which was really cool. Our guide let us out for a swim along a quieter stretch, which we enjoyed until a snake decided to skim across the surface amongst us. Obviously, I screamed like a girl and swore it was coming right for me before scrambling back into the boat.

Found a cheap guesthouse for the next couple of days, and then I'll be off to Laos.

written by  olliejohnson on September 5, 2006 from Chiang Mai, Thailand
from the travel blog: A man from Cockshutt.
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2. It's the Chinese who should have the reputation as the ones obsessed with tea. They drink it literally all the time. Even young people carry around thermos flasks of tea, just in case they wander too far from somewhere that serves it.

3. On approaching middle age, it becomes essential for Chinese men to pull up their t-shirts to just over their beer belly whenever they are slightly warm.

4. Driving like you want to die is a must for any bus driver who wants to be taken seriously. You must spend equal amounts of time on each side of the road, attempting to over/undertake vehicles that are smaller and faster, regardless of any approaching traffic. Instead of a brake pedal, you sound your horn.

written by  olliejohnson on August 30, 2006 from Yangshuo, China
from the travel blog: A man from Cockshutt.
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