Going back...

I like taking photos of the different rooms i've stayed in during my past years travelling. Its funny how these places can bring back memories, the feeling of living, spending the night in a new place for the first time that to me is so much a big part of travel. That, and waking up the next day, thinking, hey just where the hell am i? Or it may be just watching funny TV programmes and laugh at some of the ads - when im lucky enough to have a TV in my room. It could also be stumbling back to the guesthouse, somewhat intoxicated after a night out with friends, and tripping over the couch in the reception. That ranks among climbing the gate to find that its not locked as severe alcohol induced cases of folly and embarassment. And getting lost walking the 100 metres back to the guesthouse in Siem Reap from Bar Street, i guess.

I find that often, i have a story to tell, memories to recall for each of these places, so here goes:

The Lucky Ro, in Phnom Penh Cambodia to the left. My first room - first night travelling alone in a foreign country. I couldn't sleep - kept telling myself, damn, here i am, in Cambodia. I couldnt't believe it. That night i walked down to the riverside for dinner, through the wet market by the streets, and felt that this was amazing - this was what i wanted to do, to travel and experience the world, to see new things and learn.

The view from my window - I woke up and looked out of the window, and there i was in Cambodia, that instant - kinda shocking. The sound of motorcyles, the bustle of people going about their daily business at the Psaa Chaa (New market), the tooting of horns...

Will continue with places i called home, albeit however briefly, in Cambodia in the next posts...

Um..

Decided to "reclaim" my blog, making small changes here and there - and still shopping around for a new template; sort of trying to revive it. (And i do realise that the "new" blogger is easier to use after my 3 month hiatus)

Will try to wrap up the Lao part, and post some new stuff on India/Nepal soon (hopefully). Its back to school for me - less modules this semester, but an ever increasing reading list. At least i love my new timetable - late Mondays and early Fridays effectively giving me a four day weekend i spend sampling the teh tarek in JB. Basically, i love going back to Malaysia - the way of life is just so different, relaxed and you feel that no one knows where you are (especially good if you have pesky project mates) - that you can just disappear, not care and do what you want to do, instead of constantly worrying about that project/proposal/term paper and escape for a while the materialism and regimentation/uniformity that just gets to you, as in all big cities.

I do love my country, for its down to earth vibes, the endearing honesty, and the fact that it is home, afterall, where i grew up... As much as i don't want to turn this into a political blog (i'm a bit of a conspiracy theorist myself), here's hoping for change for the better in Malaysia.

Going back to my first love,

Indochina. Where 2 years ago, my big trip was planned on, the trip that would take me down from Hanoi to Saigon, and then into Cambodia by boat and bus, then weaving into Thailand past the town of Siem Reap, best known for the Angkorian imitations of heaven nearby, and then to Bangkok before going to Phuket and catching a bus down to George Town, Alor Setar, and KL and then home! It seemed so implausible (and infinitely exciting) that i could travel, overland, from Hanoi back home, without catching a single flight.

I did manage to travel then, but to Cambodia only, on a limited budget, before flying home. In the following years i would like to think that i've seen a bit of this planet - journeys taking me through most of mainland Southeast Asia and the Indian subcontinent, doing many silly and crazy things along the way, but surviving to tell the tale (sometimes barely - like the Nepal Chitwan ambulance incident - that was almost academic suicide - almost missing the registration period for next semester's courses) .

2 years later, im realising in full the dreams of the junior college boy, daydreaming over cups of coffee and maps - making a clean sweep of Southeast Asia. Took me 2 years, yea, but i've done it. Vietnam. The original dream of road trips and backpacks and neverending days on the road and freedom. Will be there this November - December, if all goes well...

Indochina will always hold special memories for me, being my first introduction to independent travel, and the many memories and life lessons that she has taught me - at the foremost self-reliance, simplicity, and appreciation of life's little things, and humility, and love, and family.

Thank you, Indochina.

"Kennet lane, please. Egmore station."

The best souvenir i brought back from India was this CD, Hari Om, by Satyaa and Pari. Listening to it everytime brings back strong memories and recollections of India, a powerful flashback of random images, sounds and smells starting from the crowded streets of Madras, Kennet Lane, where i started my adventure in India, hopping into a classic yellow-black taxi in the sweltering Indian night, passing the crowds milling outside the airport at 9 o clock - "Kennet lane, please. Egmore station". I can still feel the excitement i felt saying those words, hopping into a taxi and speeding away amidst a sea of cars, people in colourful sarongs and saris, and the swelling crescendo of car horns all around - a fact of Indian life i soon got used to.

Jesus, Ganesha and Islam - Religious harmony in Madras

From Madras i went down Tamil Nadu's coastal roads to French flavoured Pondicherry, with her whitewashed buildings, wide, tree-lined avenues and cobblestoned streets and the seafront promenade, which you find the whole of Pondi in the morning and at dusk. Further north i stopped at Mahabalipuram, a seaside town famous for stone carvings and seafood, before heading back to Madras to catch a flight from an airport in a frenzied state of security - 2 days after the Jaipur bombings; long queues, delayed flights and baggage checks (two rounds) which bottlenecked everyone at 2 makeshift, wooden security gates cum metal detectors. Not to mention i almost missed my flight too as i forgot to get some little luggage tag which was to be stamped by security - the stern female soldier at the gate to the tarmac was adamant not to let me pass for that little indiscretion. Thank goodness i did not have to rejoin the queue to get it stamped - i would have missed the flight for sure.

New Delhi! At the Lal Qila (Red Fort)

Arriving in New Delhi at 1 in the morning was not fun - especially if you have to find a room in the labyrinth of snaking side streets that was Paharganj, the telephone and electric cables haphazardously dangling overhead successfully adding to the claustrophobic, slum-like, "i hate this place" feel. Throw in gangs of touts that drag you around literally, and numerous operators posing as "Govt. approved" tour agencies and telling you "don't worry, you are safe here. You don't go out now and find room, very dangerous here. The people, the rob you... I have room here, you see, you like, i book for you... " And invariably, these rooms cost above 10 dollars for a fleapit (shared baths). And someone tried to sell me a train ticket to Amritsar, 2nd class seater, for 57 USD. I bought it the next day at the New Delhi Railway Station, right across the street, for 12 dollars.

Hence it was no surprise that I didn't stay in New Delhi for long - well, actually long enough to fall sick and hate New Delhi even more after having some insanely sweet and deep-fried bright-orange jalebis (Jalebi Walla - Bollywood stars supposedly send their reps here to "pack")and paranthas for dinner at Chandni Chowk. Gah. Feeling sick i boarded the evening Shatabdi to Amritsar, which was excellent really - good, plush, clean reclining seats to sink into and almost too much legroom, and was even more pleasantly surprised when i was served tea, followed by dinner, dessert, and supper. Amritsar was great - generally it was less chaotic, and there were great shops along Nehru shopping complex for one to fall sick in (im not sure if the kind staff at Cafe Coffee Day remember the sickly looking young traveller who sat beside the toilet (very clean) for easy access and ordered copious amounts of hot lemon tea. I spent most of my sick days there, writing in my journal and reading. Punjab also had more than her fair share of creameries AKA "milk houses" which sold ice cream and other treats, and cafes and restaurants for road weary travellers seeking to escape the daily routine of naan, roti, chapati, dhosai and dhaal curries. It was a welcome break from the stresses (and shocks) of travel in Uttar Pradesh (affectionately UP), India's most populous (and by far most chaotic) state. And that's not even talking about the main attraction yet, the Golden Temple, Sikkhism's holiest shrine. It was lovely - and so was the Amritsar's affable and friendly turban-clad, Sikh population. I took a side trip from here to the border bravado ceremony at Attari-Wagah - one of the highlights of my trip. It was unbelievable - the theatrics and exaggerations that border on parody.

Spent a good few days around Amritsar - named after the pool of nectar (Amrit Sarovar) that surrounds the Golden Temple exploring museums and learning about Punjab's great one-eyed Sikh leader, Maharaja Ranjit Singh, who greatly expanded Punjab's borders into Afghanistan. And feeling better i made the trip back to Delhi (transit only) to catch the train to Agra. My transit day in Delhi went well enough - i dropped by the Gandhi Museum at Raj Ghat and paid tribute to the great man, and hailed an autorickshaw to Humayun's tomb, set in stunningly, painstakingly revived Mughal-style gardens of the brightest greens and brilliant blue waterways that run through the garden, and the buttery yellow blooms and flowers. If you have time for only one sight in Delhi, then this is the place to be. After Delhi i took the 645 a.m. train to Agra Cantonment station, staying up to catch the rather staid football match that was the Champions League finals - and almost missed the train in the process, falling asleep during the seocnd half.

*To be continued - pics coming up soon...*

Indian summer - its been 3 months

whew! its been 3 months. Looking back at my posts ive been struck by the fact that most of them were literary equivalents of cups of stale tea. So this little writing exercise has come to a kind of crossroads, i guess, to be honest. To continue with the pretence of writing interesting prose or to just leave it and hopefully come back another day feeling more inspired.

3 months of life has just trickled by, and i feel ive done quite alot in that time, my life changing that little, barely discernible bit, criss crossing India on trains, running after them at stations when they start chugging off before i have bought my paratha/pakoda and chai at regular stopovers, becoming quite an expert at reading tickets, waitlists and schedules... climbing into glaciers (4300m) and over frozen waterfalls and landslides in Nepal, and slacking off on teh tarek and late breakfasts and suppers (Ramlee burgers, tandoori chicken - now thats something that stirs memories of India - to be exact, weirdly, i think of eating dinner on the rooftop of the Shanti Guesthouse in the Taj Ganj at Agra, looking out at the milky dome of the Taj Mahal in the orange sunset dotted by kites flown by young boys on the rooftops of the multi coloured sprawl of houses linked by wooden planks and tarpaulins, the evening soon giving way to night, the Taj draped in it, mysterious and cool, sitting as silently and as regally as ever in the distance.)

What a 3 months those had been, now that i'm back and just going through all the photos, ticket stubs, and assorted memorabilia. I get quite a kick still, a hangover from travelling i guess, cleaning out my boots, sorting out the laundry and popping out to the photoshop to get my pics developed and waiting excitedly for them to be done...

And theres also getting ready to start the new term, checking my registered courses (the registration exercise was quite a pain to do (involving an ambulance) when you are in the middle of nowhere in Nepal and internet costs 5 USD per hours at crawling speed, moving back to dorm, buying school and cooking supplies (saving up for my year end jaunt - Iran???) - its much cheaper to cook, and also obviously much cheaper to "import" fresh from JB into Singapore each week (i do my grocery shopping in JB)...

Almost 11,000 km and back, climbing to 4,300 metres, travelling on plane, bus, autorickshaw, cyclerickshaw, foot, bicycle, train, car, motorcycle, dugout canoe, jeep, and ambulance (! - its kind of a long story). Its a new start for me i guess, somehow, my life has changed that little bit, and i can just feel it. And its not even four more months to the next trip.

Destination Laos: Part 25 "Boy you are Malaysian ah?"

Bumped into this old hippie who just sat there quietly with his Beerlao watching me and the Israeli Amid have a dinner of baguette, spring rolls, a big bag of vermicelli which we ate using his metal spoon bought from the the Chiang Mai night market - of which he had a long story to tell, and piping hot Lao coffee with milk in the night market, seated on the raised wooden platforms of the night market, which served as stalls earlier in the evening.

He whispered "Boy, you are Malaysian ah" out of the blue (we had thought he was Lao) in his raspy, sandpaper voice, from which one could hear the years of experience and travelling, which also evident in his appearance. Dressed simply in an old shirt, unbuttoned, shorts, and flipflops, he just sat down with his can of beer, smiling serenely and returning our sabaidees.

Apparently he was one of them hippies who plied the Hippie Highway from Oz to London, him making his way on a ferry from Penang Island in Malaysia bound for Madras, India, before making it to Italy overland, working when he ran out of cash. It was 4 years later before he finally went home to Malaysia.

He said he had worked as an actor in Italy, acting in stage productions. "Perlakon (Malay for actor)", he intoned when i couldn't catch him when he whispered "actor", or maybe because i was actually coming to terms with this chance encounter with a fellow Malaysian backpacker in a marketplace in Laos.

An old hippie, a fellow solo traveller, an aged vagabond, who probably have seen it all, just sitting down sipping his beer with no hurry and watching the world go by. He probably saw in me himself some 40 years ago, as i did see in him as possibly what i would be like in 40 years.

The irony of the situation (or is it fate) is that now, as i'm typing this entry, i'm headed the same way, to Madras, now Chennai, a booming industrial city from the sea port of the British colonial empire, newly independent, 40 years ago.

Destination Laos: Part 24 Caves and Waterfalls

Pak Ou Caves - disappointing, nothing special, the morning boat ride down the Mekong was fun though (2 hours going - just to see a cave!, and another one and half back), chugging down the muddy and languid waters of the Mekong, wondering if there were any monstrous catfish or head-sucking nagas (seriously, locals tell tales of drowned corpses with shrivelled heads sucked clean) prowling its depths. The water was brown, the boat didn't look all that safe, tendrils of mist still clinging on to the thickly forested mountains on both banks on a chilly December morning, with the occassional farm and people working on them. It got me thinking about the nagas quite a lot.

Above: Nagas and monstour catfish lurk (probably. A result of a wandering mind as does occur when one has to seat on a small seat for 2 hours on a boringly cold December morning.)

Saw the (in)famous speedboats headed downriver - crazy fast, but probably crazy dangerous as well. Why else do you think they hand out crash helmets to passengers in a country where attitude towards transport safety can be described as cavalier at best? It makes me wonder.

The Kuang Si waterfalls were much better - and I shall let the pictures do the talking. Caught a glimpse of the "mascot" of the park on the way back - Phan, who just ambled over to where we were and sat down for photos. He's a tiger, by the way.

The park, in which the falls are located, is scenic, with benches and rest areas. Really atmospheric waterfall, spectacularly landscaped, as if one was uprooted from the tame surroundings of the park and transported into deep unexplored tropical jungle. Multitiered, cool turquoise pools fed into a river, and lush vegetation surrounding it. The only flipside to an awe-inspiring sight was the crowds. But what did i expect yea? When some place gets discovered, and some place as beautiful as this, you'd expect people to follow. Would have been amazing discovering this for yourself, say trekking through the jungle, stopping dead in your tracks and just going wow.

Tiger tiger burning bright - Phan poses for a photo