Vietnam at high velocity!

So, the land of conical hats (yes, they are worn, seriously...but don't look quite so appealing on the chubby faces of tourists who obviously find the ribbon craddling their chin(s) a little on the tight side), of war, oppression, haggling, taylors, lanterns and, yes, snakes. For eating, that is. First (intended stop), Hoi An. A beautifully quaint and picturesque (UNESCO hertiage) town, harking back the the French colonial era, with quiet streets, wooden facades and exuding history and style. AND, there are plenty of tailors on hand to whip you up a made-to-measure outfit in a couple of days, and even footwear if you so require! However, before we could embark on a mad clothing stitch-up, we were told by a nice Aussie lady to 'get some footwear' (She also made excellent 'fresh spring rolls!'), as neither of us were sporting flip-flops for Laos seemed to have devoured them somewhere along the way. And, the invalid was hobbling about with her fat foot post-rafting trauma, so we must have looked a sight. And the elephant foot was not reduing in size, so reluctantly, we ventured off to the local hospital to be inevitably ripped off, given things that were probably not needed and - the main objective - to obtain crutches. Yes, we had x-rays ($25, per shot), managed to duck the need for an ultra-sound (nope, no babies in THAT ankle!) and acquired a pair of fetching crutches. Grand total - $95. Thank goodness for travel insurance. Then good to go on the new clothes front!! Hurrah! Flipping through Vogue, the perfect winter coat revealed itself in the form of a Cavalli advert, yet mine was to be a beautiful blue wool mix with hot-pink lining inside to reflect the kooky puff sleeves! YUMMY! And a slinky, satin, royal blue blouse with neck tie, and a little chocloate silk dress with cream sash for me, whilst the elephant footed Klo sorted herself out with a rather swanky 3 piece (suit, not sofa). Oh, how we spolit ourselves. And how grand we felt to be pottering around a tailors in clothes that haven't been continually worn for the last 4 months and weren't bobbling. Extraordinary. Up early (4.30am!!) for a trip around the magnificant temple series, 'My Son', just outside of Hoi An. Utterly stunning, although minus Klo as she stayed in beddy-bys - isn't quite as keen oin the old temple mooching as I appear to be. Much of the main architecture was bombed in the war, but it was still interesting to tinker about and be the only English tourist amongst a sea of Europeans. Hoi An by night, however, is perhaps the one resaon one would sojourn into this little place. By the river, the restaurants and shops rainbow of lanterns flickers and dance upon the river top. They create the warmest ambiance that shrowds you - a comforting and special feeling hums within you. Or maybe that is just the lovely Dalat (southern Vietnam town) wine that we were supping. It never ceases to amaze me the power that little fairy lights in paper orbs have on people. Or on me at least. Needless to say, a couple of these oriental style lanterns are winging their way across the world along with my coat (and other treasures). Yep, another parcel, mummy! So hop-along and I are on the move again, this time to the historical and once politically integral city of Hue, north of Hoi An (and of Danang). We met a lovely couple from Isreal on the bus up, Alma and Allon, and so we became a little four for the night, venturing into the old town for some fodder. We managed to obtain the strangest meal in a while - a whole fish cooked in aloa vera leaves, and you take bits of the fish, some salad type stuff and chilli sauce (of course) and wrap it in your own DIY roll of rice paper. Fun, fiddly, but perhaps not to be repeated. Since discovered that this is 'Ca nuong trui', so there you go. Then, I peddled the cyclo back with the Vietnam chappy pretty much sat in Klo's lap! hahaha. Next day, we're up and out early, onto the top of Alma's hotel for a session of Yoga. Yes, under the small roof and surrounded by drying linen, the four of us did a spot of stretching and heavy breathing and all things yogi-esque. A lovely relaxing hour that invaribly did my muscles in for the next 4 days! hahaha. Followed by the tourist thang, of hiring bicycles (Well, Klo and I...aren't we fit and healthy and things??!!) and cycled our way to the famous Thien Mu Pagoda, founded in 1601, and apparently, on of the most iconic structures in Vietnam. Then back to the Old Town and Citadel (Kinh Thanh). It is an old impreial city, enclosed within high walls and a moat. Gorgeous and impressive, although much of it was bombed by the Americans in the war (more of that later). Time is of the essence, so 'tis to the capital we go - Hanoi. Alas, we are a day behind schedule, so the Chinese embassy is not open (bummer) and KloKlo isn't able to get that Chinese visa process under way. So instead, we potter off the the Ethnology museam which is filed with information about the diverse and extensive tribal people throughout Vietnam. Then we popped to the somewhat confusing War museam, and saw impressive old American B-52s (that we obviously shot down) and other military equipment...including medals and papers and things, but there was no clear explaination of the wars (of which there have been many in Vietnam). That is why the investment in a good guide to the history of Vietnam was in order - I felt ignorant of the atrocities and political strife that Vietnam has endured. So, the next read was 'A People's History of the Vietnam War', by Jonathan Neale (2001). Goodness me, this is a book that should be read by everyone, whether or not they plan to visit Vietnam. This book is excellent, although obviously bias to the 'Left' and somewhat radical politics (I have a feeling the author has Trotsky ideals) but nonetheless, it presents the wars in Vietnam (the French colonialism from 1858 to the 1950s) and the American invasion from 1965 to 1973 in a teleological manner - contextualises these wars from the perspective of the politics that were actaully going on the in the aggressor countries as well as the political struggles of the Vietnamese people. And some discussion of the repercussions of war for Amercia following the Vietnam failure. The Vietnam war was a utterly diabolical bloodbath for all parties, but espeically the Vietnamese. This book really made me understand the suffering these people have endured, and made me appreciate their generous and interested nature - still full of smiles despite what they have so recently escaped. And it made the tale of the old veteran we spoke to all the more weighted. He was awarded for shooting down 2 B-52s and had a big chunk missing out of his shoulder from a bullet. Read this book. So, to explore the back streets of Hanoi Old Town was truely cryptic - a labirynth of alleyways and back streets and unlabelled lanes. But, highly attractive all the same for its hussle and bussle after all the quiet towns we have since frequented. Klo had a stormer in the DVD shop (may well have a copy of every episode of every American sit-com/series I have ever known, and indeed, never heard of before), so just a few more pounds to add to her ever-growing luggage ("Its only three weeks!", she quips, as she hawls her new, pink luagge bag along too, fearing that her lanterns are going to face a life looking more like a pancake!). Halong Bay is the next port of call. Oh, for the days of package holidays and being sheparded around in a group, along with other groups, all pushing and shoving to get to their boat, or struggling to hear their guide because someone else is shouting about their bag not being were they thought they'd left it. Yes, the snobby aversion to mass tourism that one develops startled me as I felt myself riled by being but of on the many cattle, headed for the beautiful waters of Halong. but, soon we were all about the lovely wooden boat and being served up a banquet of fodder, and we were happy. Halong Bay (cited from Lonely Planet here) is composed of 3000 or more incredible islands which rise from the tranquil waters of the Gulf of Tonkin. The vegetation-covered islands are dotted with innumerable grottos, covered by the wind and the waves, and sailing through, it is magnificant and breath-taking. Utterly stunning natural wonder. The mind boggling thing is...how the bloody hell it managed to come into being! Legend has it, that a (large) dragon steamed through the mountains, carving out the sculptures of the landscape with its fomiddable tail and a spot of fire, no doubt. Geological masterpiece, to say the least. The only thing that slightly maimed it for me were the blinking 'Bearded Brigade'. What, what?? I hear you cry! Yes, this is a new species of male that we have encountered on our travels. Hairy, dirty and generally disgusting. But, this exquisite pair were particualrly revolting. BLACK feet. Like, dirt was ingrained in the soles, and there were sores under where their flip-flops lay, and they STANK. They are university boys, and homeless people have a better standard of hygine then there two hyineas (shut-up, Eddddd)! They stank! Honestly, STA travel ought to provide a 'how to stay clean on your travels' kit for boys - complete with a razor and foot scrubber. Mingers. The 'cruise', however, was wonderful. We explored caves around the bay, which was very excite, although there was a hint of Alton Towers with the coloured lighting. Was waiting for dracula to pop out at any moment. And then to Cat Ba, a habitable island in the centre of the stoney jigsaw, where we munched on far too much fodder (3 Jewish girls couldn't eat the seafood given...so we managed to truly embrace the notion of 'waste not, want not.' Fatties. The next day, off into the Cat Ba Nature Reserve, and got pretty soggy and was a bit scared when we realisde that flip-flops were perhaps not the most suitable footwear for scrambling up rocks! Being a hero, once we reached the sumit (very beautiful views), I decided to scale the highly dubious metal scafolding, feigning as a tower, just to see from a bit higher up. Would have been ok, but our guide asked if I got scared of heights, for a girl on a previous excursion had sobbed once she reached the top. I could see it in his face he didn't want a repeat performance on my part. But I got up and down - without my flip-flops on! Then, back to our ocean vessle, so cruised once more amongst the mysterious Halong rocky steeples. Sunny and lovely. Then a wee spot of kayaking as the sun went down. Deliciously stunning. How very romantic for Klo and I. Don't know how the floating villagers felt about it all (yes, there were people that appeared to live on little platforms that floated on the ocean, complete with little fires burning and smoking some big pipe. I'd be damned if this wasn't the inspiration for that crap movie, 'Waterworld'. No Costners though). Waking up on a boat in the ocean was a pretty cool thing too - especially since I shovelled my sorry ass out of bed at 6.45am to bask in the morning rays. Silence in the bay. Then breakfast, swiftly followed by a swim in the sea. Jumping from the roof of the boat (yet again, what a hero) I splashed into the turquoise waters, as happy as Larry (whoever he may be). Until, the hottest, searing pain whipped across my legs - laceration was that word that flashed through my mind to describe the paaaaain to myself. AGH!! What the hell??? So, not quite so serenly as previously, I scooted back to the boat, my leggies all a tingle (understatement OF the year), and was diagnosed with a serious bout of jelly-fish attack! Ouch. No more sitting in the sun for me for the time being!! Back to shore (the massive lumps on my legs having somewhat decreased in size and firey redness), and in the mini-bus back to the captial. Hurrah for Hanoi, for I quite like it. So, Klo stays in her beddy-bys whilst I trot off again to squeeze some more understanding out of Vietnam. Popped into the Ho Chi Minh Museum. This chap is basically a lovely fellow who wanted equality and a better land for the Vietnamese, and is much worshipped by them. 'Uncle Ho', no less. The museum was utterly gorgeous, somewhat of a cross between a historical relay through the wars of Vietnam and a intricate modern art museum - Picasso's creation of Guernica even had a poignant appearence. Then to act the part of the voyaer upon the waxy, embalmed corpse of Uncle Ho in his Mausoleum complex...eery, but entertaining to see so many Vietnamese queing up to pay respects. Echoed the experience of St.Peter's basillica in the Vatican. Then off to the Temple of Literature (Van Mieu), which was dedicated to Confucius in 1070, and was where pupils would study to become Mandarins. All very interesting. Oh, and sorted myself (and my mother) with new specs!! Since I dropped mine on the bathroom floor, and they were far beyond a 'Jack Duckworth' repair effort, I decided to check out the local optitions...lo and behold, a lovely pair of specs for a snip at 13 quid!! Usually about 300 in the good ol' U of the K!!! Hehehe. However, the creme de la creme, the absolute pinnicle of out time in Vietnam, nay, perhaps of travels, was a little trip out to the nearby town of La Mat. For eating…SNAKE!! Yippers, you read correctly, we were off to sample the delights of the scaly one. Pulling up to the standard motorbike, we were treated to a cup of green tea, before selecting the snakey which we were to have carved up and cooked into a variety of dishes. And what a lovely slippery fellow too! Over the bamboo bridge and onto the lake, we became the witnesses of a murder. The serpent was slain right before our very eyes!! Slit down its throat, the bile fro the gall bladder was siphoned off into one lass of rice wine, whilst the blood was squezzed into another, whilst the beating heart was prized out. Yummy! The heart, being a myotic muscle, can beat alone without any external aid. And it beat for a considerable amount of time after too! Well, until I ate it!! hahaha. Klo went a very chalky white and didn't speak to me for a bit. The blood-wine was ok, although the bile was a bit too bitter for our tastes. The snake was yummy, in all its forms too! Soup, sauteyed, fried, spring-rolled, wrapped in leaves and its fat used to cook our rice! Delicious! All the while we chatted to our lovely bike driving couple, the husband constantly topping himself up on our snakey vino...hehehe. And after the reptile banquet, we saw other things that they appear to enjoy cooking up - lizards, porqupines and yes...cat. Sorry aunty Neesie. It didn't look happy at all in its little cage, but do not fear, we haven't munch on cat crepes, as far was we know! Then for beers with the locals to finish it all off! Hurrah! And then, it came to the last day of Chloe and Flynn's travels together. Unable to obtain a visa for the land of China, due to the iron cage of bureacracy (yes, Weber definately had a point), Klo was heading south of 'Nam to work on her tan, whilst up into the highlands of Vietnam for Flynners. A final dinner of Pho (noodle soup) and hugs and kisses, and off we went on our seperate ways. Klo on a bus...and whilst I was waiting for the train, I ventured out to the Vietnemese water-puppet show! The funniest and cutist thing I have seen in ages! Chaps hide on boards behind a screen and little puppets slice about above the water, acting all sorts of mischief, like 'Catching foxes' or 'children playing in the water'. Ho, ho, ho. Still, :( Miss you Klo! So, Sapa was the destination of choice for me. A stunning little town in the highlands of Vietnam and the home of a number of ethnic minorities that can't be met anywhere else in the world! The train from Hanoi was the cheapest for a 12 hour journey I ever encountered...about 2 pounds 80...but that was for a distinct reason....my seat was that of a wooden bench, on a particularly dodgy train. Hurrah for independant, budget travel! And, I have proven my very own theory that I can pretty much sleep anywhere - except that numb feeling of paralysis that sometimes jolts you back into conciousness was a little too frequent for my liking. At least no one around me seemed to snore. How very courtious of them all. So, a sore ass, and a bumpy ride in a bus up from the train station to Sapa, a much need shower and then off out into the countryside to see some of these local village types. Cat Cat village was my port of call...and was gorgeously set in the depths of the valley. A lovely stroll on a sunny afternoon, to potter about the Hmong peoples, who wear very distinctive, colourful clothing, dyed using natural ingrediants (as I learnt in the Ethnology museum - thanks Hanoi). The following day, up early for the Saturday market where the various peoples of the local villages congregate for the Saturday Market. The streets of Sapa were awash with brightly coloured head-dresses, elaborate embrodiary and, the quick sell of the local wares. Sucker that I am, bought myself some beautiful throw and cushion cover and other tat...on now my rucksack is superbly weighty. And full. I took a bike out after investing in the local economy into the countryside to check some villages further out that weren't quite to decidedly formatted for tourists. Shh, Jon Collins. I went to the Lao Chai village, again home to the Hmong people, who are a fan of wearing navy blue, then to Ta Van, a village of Dzay people, who wear brightly coloured tartan blanket-style clothes on their heads, and finally the Ban Ho village, quite a few Km from Sapa, and here reside the Dzao minority. They were their hair up in a sprial and seem the quietest of the minorities. Then splish-splash, in I went into the waterfalls of the village, fully clothed in my summer dress (cotton for quick dry. Hurrah!). Really stunning countryside with the wind blowing in your hair and the sun on your back. Again, I trumpet the simple joys of sitting astride a motorbike and zipping through the valleys and stunning countryside. I want a bike!! So, quite the adventrous anthropologist! I only ate at the market for meals of 50p and chatted to the Hmong peeps - and was given the email for one so I can add her on Facebook! hahahahaha. Hyper-reality??!! JC?? Nope, they don't just crack their outfits for the tourists...I saw many pottering in the fields, heaving heavy wood and stitching up new clothes, even in places that tourists weren't likely to be watching. And then...China.

Loitering in Laos.

Hut, bus, coach bed...hut. That was but one excellent series of nights sleeps that we have encountered and endured on our happenings in Laos! Due to our somewhat tightened schedule, the 'missioning' from one end of the country to another has been intense. Including sampling a wide range of sleeping arrangements (no - not with other people. In most cases).

Alas, I get ahead of my self. After my attempts at engaging with the Lay culture in the capital (yeah, yeah, made it to one temple....but I'd only been in the country 20 hours!), I was off on the bus up to Vang Vieng to join Klo and her band of Merry Mancunians for birthday booziness! Hmm...good wedge of t-totalness there, me thinks! Arrived there to find that Klo had not in fact responded to me coming to meet them all, and so sauntered into a little bar and munched on the much famed fresh spring rolls of Laos, and with 'Lap Lap', a minced beef 'salad' with plenty of spice. Yummy. A nice Israeli chappy kept me entertained until the Klo raised her feverish head to acknowledge my presence in the little town - 3 hours later. hahaha. Yes, so at 10pm on Tuesday, a tottered into a midden of a room awash with chocolate wrappers and general clues of gastronomical gorging. They had fallen victim to the local delicacies of 'magic shakes and pizza.' One shall not go into the gory details, but they still weren't as fresh as they may have wished on Wednesday morning for the much celebrated and anticipated 'tubing', Happy birthday Rachel! haha. I, mean while, was a smug b*stard, and was all excited post-detox.

For those at a loss at this casually mentioned activity, namely 'tubing', I shall enlighten you. I am aware that my varied audience will vary in its excitement and, erm, yeah.

Tubing - the sitting of oneself in a large, rubber inner tube that once lay snuggled and dry on the interior of a tractor. This over-sized, industrial rubber ring is sat in my its owner (woe betide he that loses it!) and floats down the muddy waters of the Nam Song river, stopping off at the many wooden bars that line the river down-stream. If the current whisks you past the bar - tough. Unless you successfully grab a bit of rope and are fished in by some nice type. Yes, the culmination of sitting in a rubber ring, drinking, leaping off zip-lines and rope swings into a fairly fast flowing river over the course of 6 hours or so is definitely the safest activity I have ever engaged in. HAHAHA. the first bar that we managed to squirm ourselves out of our tubes into was great - it had a massive rope swing that you had to scramble up a rickety wooden ladder to reach...and then pathetically, I screeched "this is really scary" as it swung me out significantly higher over the water than I had anticipated! The next bar and another beer, a spot of muddy volleyball was undertaken, followed by a quick slide down the zip-line into the river! Hurrah! By the time we had made it to the last bar (we managed to successfully float by 3 others as mooching down the middle seemed to be a good idea...), shooting off a massive swing with a nice chap from Leeds, at the SAME time and letting go at the highest point was not a bit daunting at all. Must be those power buckets. Comedy times. Impressed? We managed to last all night too!
The next day we ate burgers, and chocolate and eggs and EVERYTHING. Because we felt like crap. And looked it. And probably smelt it. Such attractive young ladettes. Complete with wife-beater shirt that holds testament to our japes in bright green (I am, shamefully, wearing it right now in Vietnam. Can take the girl out of Blackpool....).

Next stop, Luang Prabang, the former royal capital in northern Laos. Since Klo had managed to bag the last seat on the coach, I had a prime-time location of the seat right next to the driver! Excellent views of the staggering mountains of Laos, but no nodding off as I'd have fallen down the steps and out! Since we hadn't been blessed with a warm shower in about six weeks, we decided splurging and spending 3 and a half GBPs, which included: single beds that were adorned with crisp, white sheets that we actually wanted to sleep in, a mini-bar, a TV, air-conditioning AND hot water for a truly great shower. A tonic for the soul, to be sure! Temples a-plenty, and an array of French-era architecture that simply generated a chilled out and elegant ambiance. Ventured around Wat Xieng Thong based near the northern tip of the peninsula formed by the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers, and lost Klo (not the keenest admirer of temples compared to the temple fiend I appear to have evolved into), so tottered up the slopes of the 100m high Phu Si hill, and watched the sun fall into the lush green mountains surrounding Luang Prabang. Very tranquil indeed. And it was quite the chilled day we required as intense adventures lay in our stead the following day...

A two day adventure tour! Hurrah! Elephant riding to begin the day...and it was somewhat more intense of the old stomach muscles than anticipated when we saw the angles of the slopes these giants had to contend with! Eeek! Nearly sank straight down out of our bamboo throne! After feeding the blighters some yummy bananas, it was time that Klo, our guide, and I set off into the Laos terrain as intrepid hikers! In the blaring heat, we walked through vast open rice fields, enveloped between the immense mountains, then struggled our way through jungle vegetation and water-ways in the scorching heat of mid-day. Finally arrived in a small village of the Hmong people, one of the 84 ethnic minorities that reside throughout Laos. Their belief system is that of animism, and we had the privilege of meeting the village shaman, a chap who is believed to possess the ability to cure sickness and exorcise bad spirits from the sick who come for his aid (although there was a brown bottle of paracetamol loitering at the back of his medicine shelf...not that we doubt or anything...). The onward again until we reached the second village at where we would spend the night, the 'Khamu people'. But, we were successfully drenched by the rainy seasons, well, erm, rain, so were more than relieved to see our lovely bamboo hut! Yes, yes, the hut did not happen to have A/C, nor was there hot water in the trough with the bucket...but it was ace!! Yet, it was playing with the village children that totally mad it worthwhile...one minute I was tentatively trying to chatter with the little critters, next I was the pink pyjamed Pied Piper, with a entourage of many small persons imitating whatever obscure sound and body movement I could conjure up! hahaha. Fun, fun, fun. Next day, up early and a little bit more trekking for us, and then an afternoon on the river kayaking. Lush. But tiring....alas, no time for showers, as the bus was leaving to Vientiane at 6pm. So, it is a night bus...with a bed for us! Quite the luxury!

Passed a none eventful day in the capital, then again a night on the bus in a southerly direction for us. This time, not quite so luxurious as only a reclining chair...and the bones were definitely beginning to crave a nice, solid bed type thing...but to Pakse...and then down to Don Det, a small island which is part of the 'Four Thousand Island' chain. Gorgeous. And another hut. But it was for only 10 Kip a night...which ius 25pence! Wicked! AND, we had hammocks! A mooch around the paddy fields, and a day out on bicycles to see waterfalls (aka, rapids) and the beach (aka, muddy shore of the river) and all was swell. Then we met a right rabble that got us all started on various international stereotypes, and apparently, us good ol' brits, are down as describing everywhere as "dodgy, heaps of amazing brilliance!" Hmm, maybe I do say those words on occasion...So, James (posh boy who is on his gap year...'oh, reeeeaaalllllyyy', and Tait, an American boy living the hippy dream in Hawaii, both of which had a wicked sense of humour, so we all got along swell...especially after a spot of indulgence in the local spirit, 'Laos Laos'. Marvellous. And then we discovered cinnamon swirls on the celestial bakery (only one on the island) and sore heads were cured. Klo nearly died on a white water rafting extravaganza, whilst I adventured with the boys to pizza places of great promise, composed silly songs and drank milkshakes that should never have been imbibed. Hairy night. Scary morning. And then we disbanded like all merry men...for Klo and I...to the great land of 'Nam!

So, to Pakse for a bus to the border. Yikes! T'was not merely a bus, but a vechile of torture that we should never of boarded....a 12hour journey transpired to be that of 24hours....complete with deliveries of rice every half-hour along the way, getting rained on at 6am at the border crossing, Chloe having her purse stolen with her bank card, and on arrival at our final destination, discovered we were in fact in Danang, and not in Hue as first anticipated. But, survival is the key.

GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM!

Trapped in Cambodia....

...but have finally escaped! Yes, yes, currently in the lovely confides of Laos (or Loase, as the Americans say) for the second day, after far too long in Cambodia.

Why is this? Due to the fact my passport was happily sitting on the desk of some bureaucratic crazed civil servant at the Chinese Embassy, it took nearly a full month to obtain a visa for China. Great. After all that, didn't even end up with a 3 month business visa, nor a 3 month tourist visa, but simply a 30 tourist visa. AGH! But, what little shenanigans did we get up to whilst waiting for the vehicle by which I can be internationally mobile...

Sihanoukville

Yes, the pink and glitter party was a stormer - as was my hangover. Basically, a crew of 11 of us managed to stagnate 11 days away in Snooky, punctuated with drunken nights, a couple of 'day trips out' and watching lots of DVDs. Very cultural, don't you think? Hannah, Rachel, Beth (3 girlies from Manchester), Georgie and Arran (a cute - engaged - couple from Norwich), Charlie and Michelle (an odd but lovely couple from London), Freddie and Sam (lovely boys from London) and Charlie (cap wearing chappie, also from London), and of course, Chloe and I, became the Monkey Republic 'Massive'. Oh yes, when there was noise in the bar - we were there. We managed to pick the choppiest day on the ocean to organise our 'group outting' to a little island off Snooky, 'Bamboo island.' The first 10 minutes were great, but as the boat rocked us all nearly overboard, and indeed, Chloe actually nearly went in, but unfortunately didn't and only obtained a stinker of a bruise on her arse, we realised that maybe it wasn't the best idea. Especially when the bottle of gin was handed round with the misnomer, 'its only water....'.

Another lovely day out was to the waterfall...we all munched on our pack lunch of sandwiches and crisps (very English), then minced around like little nymphs with flower garlands on our heads and soaked in the ambiance of the gushing waterfalls, despite being nearly washed away by the water flow!! EEK! A little bit of a Full Moon party went down at the 'legendary' Sessions, a shed on the beach but played good music, and we stormed 'Hannah's Castle' and had a lovely time singing 'Rule Brittania' from the top at the minions below (allegedly, I do not personally recall). A wickedly hairy game of 'Ring of Fire' well and truly killed us off another night, but it was all finished off in true Monkey style with another themed party - "Seaside". My god, there were many an amazing costume...from Jelly Fish (Georgie), Shark (Arran), Palm tree (Chloe) and of course, and incredible feat of engineering, car paint spray and fluffy bobbles (sea urchins...), and shells, I was a ship wreak!!! And that's not the only type of wreak I was by the end of the night...there was copious amounts of shaving foam and acrylic paint...on faces, feet, clothes, hair,..and somewhat more artistically, on the guy's guitar that he wanted accessorising! Hurrah! Think I may have ended up talking to a Buddha statue at the end of the night though....maybe I'll get to Nirvana yet.

THEN WE LEFT!! My goodness, it was the worst bus journey back to Phnom Pehn in our lives, still clad in our pyjamas, thank god we didn't look in the mirror. ROUGH. And since my camera was stolen in Snooky, a new one was in order, so a nice Nikon is now by my side. So, I mooched around Phnom Pehn to recapture some piccies, then hit the road to Battambang, a town in the North-East of Cambodia for the weekend, whilst Chloe and the girles made their way to Laos (I, of course, didn't have my passport. Hmm).

Battambang

Arrived to torrential rainfall, so looked truly trainspotter in my pink anorak and glasses. Get settled into a nice little guest house and then went off to explore the town...and found the most scrumptious cafe that sold the sweetest, warm, sticky Cinnamon swirl, ever, YUM. Awoke bright and early at 6am on Sunday morning, the day of Cambodian elections. Zipped through the countryside on the back of a moto, through the villages around Battambang, and it was great to see so many locals turn out to vote. Clambered up a giant hill to reach Phnom Sampeau, a temple crowning one of the only mountains in the area. It was converted into a torture chamber during the Khmer Rouge's reign, with people being pushed down into a cave, creating another mass grave of innocent people. Then up many, many stairs to Wat Banan, a temple known as 'mini - Angkor ', which was nice to get some pictures of, and gave amazing views of the surrounding lush green plains and rice paddies below. On the way back to town, my guide managed to give me a sneaky lesson on how to drive a motorbike...with gears!! It was brilliant, cruising through the villages, honking my little horn so the cows know I'm scooting past. Good driver apparently! Hurrah! New hobby...??? Then the afternoon was whiled away pottering around Battambang, exploring the local Wats and chattering away to the monk that live inside - mainly composed of English classes and punctuation correction!

Monday - travelling mission day. Back to Phnom Pehn at 6am...arrive at 1pm and am, at the DHL office collecting my passport, and at Vietnam Airlines by 1.30pm...booked at flight to Vientiane, Laos, and on the plane at 3.30pm. Laos at 5pm. Done. Next.

Oh wait - Vientiane appears to be completely full and I wander around in the rain for over an hour trying to find a bed. Soggy. Lovely. Met a nice chap from Haiti, who now lives in Jamaica, but it all got a bit surreal when he began to tell me he loved me, wanted to be his woman, oh no, wait, his wifey, and that we were destined to be together. Yeah. Right.

Next day, went to the biggest attraction in Vientiane with a couple of girls I met on my flash-packer flight to Laos, Pha That Luang, a large, golden temple. Lovely. Then hopped on the bus to Vang Viane to catch up with the ladies for tubing times...BRING IT ON!!!

Cambodian Capers

Sweating. Profusely. Beer sweats. Meat sweats. Wearing of man-made fibres induced sweats. The beads that collect on the brow of both myself and Klobo (albeit that they are more copious in amount for Klomosexual. Sweaty bitch. haha), seem to be gathering in number. It is a little disturbing to wake in a puddle and breath in the refreshing stench of must which clings to your pink primark seahorse pyjamas. Or is that just me? No, definitely Chloe too.

Anyway, that is just a little observation I thought I would share. So, what adventures have the Kloster and I been getting up to? We last left you in Kratie. An interesting place. No cold milk for your tea, which is frustrating. Simply a town that's focal point was a market, that due to the rain had a murky, grey moat surrounding it that you had to wade through in order to get anything. And flip-flops flick water/mud/dirty oozy ming all up your legs. But, we decided that eating from the market was the true traveller style, so we selected some hubble bubble from some big silver pans and treated our self to a freshly cooked fish (head and tail and EVERYTHING). Tasty as you like, perched on a wall in the twilight, with the mozzies gnawing at our ankles.

And then we went to see the e Irrawaddy dolphins of the Mekong River. These are funny looking things that are super endangered (only about 80 or so knocking about in the river!). It was so lovely to just sit on the lake (obviously in a long boat) and dolphin spot - one even gave us a little wave! But what was equally as enjoyable and interesting was the motorbike ride to the river through the Cambodian villages. I've come to realise that my blogs perhaps do not truly describe the places that we are visiting and the cultures we are being exposed to, so here is a little 'Reflections on Cambodia' that I penned whilst on a 12 hour (bumpy and lacking leg-space) bus journey...(yes, yes, no sudden deviations to travel writer for me!):

Ít is very humbling to see children engulfed in happiness though simple pleasures: running along with an old tyre; playing the drums with a cluster of empty plastic petrol canisters; a stone to throw and catch. To have the liberty to tinker about naked, dancing about to the rhythms and rhymes in their own imagination. To exercise a naive curiosity and enthusiasm for the unknown and to engage with it through squeaking "goodbye", "hello", and "good day!" to you as you sail through their village on the back of a motorbike - the quintessential way to soak up the sights.
The village. It appears, from the wind whisked backseat of the tantalisingly liberating back seat of a motorbike, as well as from behind the restrictive pane of the public bus, that villages are composed of wooden houses, laid upon stilts in order to elevate their dry sanctuary from the clutches of the pools of rainy season's milk (hmm...getting a bit keen on the creative writing here). 'Shops', consisting of the packets of noodles, jars of sweets and copious amounts of a single form of fruit or vegetable sprinkle the stretch of road. Children, dogs, cows (or rather, buffalo) and chickens amble freely amongst the wooden frames. Perhaps the freshest, most organic fruit and veggies are those that we gorged on here, for this is an agrarian country, with over 80% of the population being farmers. Durian fruit, lychees, bananas, soft coconut, jack fruit, Cale and corn. And rice. Lots of rice. There is an abundance of food, on every street corner, at every market, at every turn. Silver pots of mysterious liquids, grills of fish, chicken, pork and beef. Perhaps this is very much the indulgence of a people who suffered such severe starvation under a cruel 'revolutionary' regime but only 30 years ago. And their faces are beautiful - the most elegant ad open of all those in SE Asia I have had the pleasure to see. Round and inquisitive, with a clear, soft skin, giving a deceiving impression of youthfulness in cases which may not hold for other nationalities. A willingness to break into a brilliant smile when invited by a flash of mutual pleasure from oneself.

So how was that? Sickly or insightful? Fancied cracking out some creative writing skills, but hope that they gave you some insight into what it is like here. If not, there are plenty of pictures on facebook!

And then further north we went to the east of Cambodia - Rattakiri province. Banlung City is the provincial capital of ratanakiri province in Cambodia 's mountainous northeastern corner. And we were there for elephants!! Hurrah! Yes, we got them, but it was not easy. Firstly, we again had first hand experience or the distinct lack of road Cambodia on occasion boasts. And sitting at the back of the bus was an error, for it is amazing how high you can fly outta your seat when you hit a particularly generous pot-hole in the road. And we broke down. Twice. It took hours and it rained. Continuously. And in Ban Lung there seems to be but a sea of rich, red earth, that in torrential downpours turns into a red lava that inhibits cars (and definitely buses) from getting to where they want to be. Even better when you are on the back of a motorbike and you suddenly realise how far over you are leaning....but i didn't fall off. Thank the Lord. And elephant riding in the jungle was AMAZING!! We trekked through rubber plantations and then zipped our way around several beautiful waterfalls and then swam in a gorgeous big lake - and it was sunny all afternoon! Hurrah!

Then we had to take on the 12 hour bus journey back and down to Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. 0 leg room and a big bag of lychees. Heaven, surely? But Phnom Penh was really cool - our guest house looked out onto a big lake that looked magical with the reflection of fairy lights dancing upon it. And we continued to be good travellers and walked lots along the waterfront and around the markets the first day, then missioned all the sights in one whole day. The most upsetting and sobering experience was visiting S-21. This was a school that was converted into a high-security prison during the Pol Pot, Khmer Rouge regime, and basically was a secret prison of torture and, invariably, death. It was sickening to walk through the prison cells that were once rooms of education and see the metal frames that had held so many innocent people whilst incomprehensible torture was inflicted on them. And each person - child, woman, man - had a photo taken on admittance to S-21. All these portraits were mounted on boards in other prison cells, and it was just simply so upsetting to see all the faces and know what was in store for them. If they did not perish within the confides of S-21, there were lorried out of Phnom Penh to the 'Killing Fields'. Mass graves were dug, sometimes by the victims themselves, before they are shot or hit on the skull. We went to the Killing fields after going around the prison, and a weird, eerie atmosphere resided there. More than 17,000 civilians were killed and buried in mass graves. This place is a chilling reminder of the brutalities of the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime. In the center of the area is a 17 story glass stupa which houses 8000 skulls exhumed from mass graves. Really tough experience. And then we went to the Royal Palace, which wasn't quite so emotionally difficult.

Party time, party time!! Yip, yip, yip - with Klo celebrating her 22nd year of gracing the planet, it was time to get to Sihanoukville, the seaside party place of Cambodia. I mean, after all that traveller education, a holiday by the seaside was well in order. Boozy banter as to be expected, but last night was particularly special. Klo's birthday party. After meeting Leroy in Malaysia, who happens to own the coolest guesthouse in Snooky, an order of a 'Pink and Glitter Party' was requested for Klo. And it was AMAZING!!!! Flyers, balloons and pink Sooooooooo much pink (and we mean, shocking pink) and copious amounts of glitter....a hardcore got really in the swing of things - babies (yes, girlies in nappies with pink bonnets), boys in pink hotpants and sporting pink plastic guitars, or having a bustle of flowers flowing behind you...or just being barbie with a dash of trannie (Klo and I)...and throw in a surprise chocolate brownie cake (sooo tasty) and a few pink cocktails and you are well away!!! Soooooooooo much fun!! But soooooo wasted! Hahaha! And there looks as though there has been a pink glitter bomb that has erupted across of shed of a room. I don't want to go back in there....

A home vs the road, and other issues...

My cousin lives in Pattaya, our next stop after Bangkok. It would be rude not to pop by and grab a wee bit of free accommodation. And the opportunity to be in a house. Not a hostel, or a guest house or a scummy something between the two...but a house. A home. With a kettle so you can just make a lovely brew when you feel like it. And watch dvds and pick dog hairs from off your pyjama bottoms...and run to the corner shop at 2am in the middle of a thunder storm because you need biscuits to really crown this Nirvana. And it was so lovely to see my big cousin, Ashley, and successfully get him to speak to his grandma (albeit after several beers) and act as a covert spy on behalf of the rest of the family to which we belong. And his dog is funny.

Greeted by a grinning Ashley, a fairly strapping, tattooed (naturally - it is Thailand) and a little bit burnt lad, sat astride a small, mint Vesper was a joy to see. Especially when he took off his very fetching helmet to reveal ginger hair (not natural by any means)...hahahaha. An excellent experience with the local beauty salon, evidently. A good night out was to be had, beginning with an introduction to Ashley's bar, 'Çrocodile Bar', where a spot of whiskey was enjoyed, before we were whisked off to his friend's bar where the party of the night was taking place. Oh yes. Surreal is perhaps what some people would call it. Picture your/a local boozer. I mean the locals. The hardcore locals. Basic demographics being male, 50 years+, balding, tattoos and, well, a substantial gut. Captured your imagination? Sprinkle in several tiny, skinny, Thai ladies (yip, these are the chappies' ladies/wives), Thai karaoke (a very happy Klo) and more whisky. Bloody mental. Thank goodness I was hammered, as it all seemed highly amusing at the time. And it was. But slowly, as the next couple of days progressed (which we mainly spent sleeping post-Thailand mayhem), it dawned on us that we were in fact the only Caucasian, females of the age of early-twenties in the entire bloody place and that everyone else fitted the description as above. The sex capital of Thailand. I felt slowly that my heart and soul were corroding with simply being there. Honestly, it was fine. I sound dramatic, but we felt drained by the time we left. But. One thing can definitely be said. Having a Sunday roast was the happiest I think I have felt in ages. A carvery and LOADS of fresh veggies...and don't forget the gravy!! AND THEN, we munched our way through an enormous apple crumble and custard. Bare in mind that two of the guys who were eating with us couldn't finish their main meal! WE ARE PIE MUNCHERS!! And we went fishing too! That was fun fun fun! Klo and I caught a BIG FISH (10 Kilos apparently) all by ourselves!

Next stop - Cambodia. People had mentioned that the journey to Siem Reap in Cambodia from Thailand was hell. Didn't feel like that to me as we cruised in our nice bus from Bangkok to the border...but then we got to the border. And it is called rainy season for a reason. SOAKED and wearing white linen trousers. Erroneous behaviour. At least I had my pink anorak (yep, I looked well fit). And then, once finally into Cambodia, in Poipot, we realised we were going to have to get a car to drive us to Siem Reap. 5 hours away. So in we popped with a couple of lovely chappies - Markus from Germany and Christoph from Switzerland - into a car that had a nice big crack down the wind screen, the front right tyre kept going flat, and not a lot of suspension. At least there was a good stereo. Shame there was no road to speak of. A river of mud as the rain lashed down ensured continual stops for the driver to give the headlamps a nice rinse off. But we arrived eventually. Just about.

Siem Reap is cool! And the Cambodian people are just lovely. They are so very sweet and friendly. Hmm. Cambodia appears to be somewhat different to the ol' Pattaya. Buzzing to be back on the backpackers trail, the first day we managed to potter around a market and buy some stupid trousers and a dress that has been described as; a poncho; a choir boy; interesting; pyjamas; ok for Cambodia but not for home...and so forth. I still wore it out that night....sporting my new hair cut - CAMBODIA STYLE! hehehe. $2 for a trim. Brilliant. I spit in your face, Toni & Guy. Mwahahahahahaha. So, with our new European buddies, we indulged in a spot of vino, before stepping out to the imaginatively named 'pub street' and basically, got a bit drunken. But I tried to get home with my friend...and we got lost...the tuktuk driver dropped us in the middle of no-where...so we had to stay in another guesthouse until the next day!! hahahaha. God I felt rough. But the reason people go to Siem Reap, is simply because it is the gateway to the monumental, Temples of Angkor. As the Lonely Planet articulately depicts, 'Angkor Wat is more than just an astounding architectural feat; it is the national symbol...it is a sumptuous blend of towers and sky, a magnificent spellbinding shrine to Vishnu with its captivating image replicated in the reflective lake below.' Sounds pretty impressive, eh? And there were lots of temples situated in the area around the main focal point, including the setting for Tomb Raider! After a good 5 hours tinkering about, it was definitely time for a brew!! And then a bottle of vino. Again. So what if we had to get up a 5.45am to catch our bus on time....yeah, feeling a little less than hot right now after 3 hours sleep and 9 hours of travelling. For we have made our way from West Cambodia to Central Cambodia. Kratie is in fact where we are. And we are trying to not eat chocolate and be good. Better get another brew down me then...

Aye Carumba!!! Sangsom Buckets a-hoy!!!

Woooooosh!

Well, I tell you what! I blinkin' whirlwind of a fortnight I have had! Many an unexpected thing has happened, but it has been amazing - for a change.

So, Langkawi, Malaysia. Yippers, had amazing times with new peeps - namely Paula from Liverpool (but lived in Spain for the last 5 years) and Leeroy from Cambridge (lived in Cambodia for the last 5 years). And we were team 'Sigmoid Collectomy', respectfully named after my delightful tummy operation which we decided would be an excellent name for a rock band. HARDCORE MAN. We mooched about on the beach and caught some rays in the days and munched on local delicacies in the evening - although we did have to persuade the local Muslim restaurant that it was cool for us to drink our lovely bottle of wine in their restaurant....we bought our own glasses! Perhaps the most memorable outing was in fact on the Friday night, where we ventured out to the local Reggae bar', much to Lee's joy since he (allegedly) despises this class of music. But, after a few lovely crisp white vinos, I was soon hitting the dance floor with a circle of Malay rastas accompanying me! Hehehe. All the action was being avidly shot by our new friend, EK (lovely guy from Kuala Lumpa who was on his holidays), whilst we wiggled along with the locals. Comedy.

The next day, fully armed with extensive hangovers, the enthusiastic EK persuaded us that it would be a good idea to escape Pantai Cenang, and go on a nice big cable car to the top of Gunung Machincang. A three tier system, the cable car staggers the viewing of the gradually ever increasingly impressive views of the surrounding areas. It allowed a spectacular 360-degree panoramic view of the Langkawi islands as well as dramatic views of the deep chasms, overhangs cliff walls, isolated pinnacles and some caves. Wasn't so great for Lee (again) since he is mortally terrified of heights and had to take Valium or something to chill out!

Next stop is Geargetown, Penang. Sigmoid Collectomy landed and went straight to the delightful Mr.Ken's. Mr. Ken is indeed the most crazy Chinese chap I believe I have ever encountered. And he is a legend. He drove me around for hours trying to retrieve my passport (issues with Chinese visas - don't ask) and then proceeded to take me out on a day trip of the back of this rented motor-bike. Lovely times. We went to a beautiful temple, Wat Chaiya Mangkalaram (Thai:วัดชัยมังคลาราม), and is a Thai Buddhist temple in George Town, Penang, Malaysia, most notable for its Reclining Buddha statue. Then we ventured forth to his favourite place on the island, Titi Kerawang Waterfall. It was very nice, but I think what made it was his little dance in the water which I videoed, which includes him singing a song to our dear Paula who wasn't there (and was in fact having her handbag stolen at a restaurant at the time with all cards and passport in). Bless him.

And then it was time for me to go and rejoin my lovely ladies in the land of Thai and to crack on with some full moon party entertainment. They, however, actually managed to go the wrong way after leaving me in Malaysia and so had spent many a drunken night in Kho Samui with some lovely chaps we met in Singapore. After a gruelling 24hours of travel and broken sleep, I finally arrived on Kho Phangnan and found my lovelies on Ban Tai beach - and got straight on the beers. Well, we definitely started as we meant to go on.

FULL MOON PARTY! Comedy value. Got boozy on our beach and then sang all our way to Hat Rin (beach where the party takes place), and we were greeted by excessive amounts of Samsung buckets (yes, the rocket fuel concoction of Thai whiskey, coca-cola and THAI redbull), and my god, it knocks your proverbial hat off!! Recall finding a few of our buddies that we met in Bali, covered ourselves in glow-in-the-dark paint and danced the night away until the sunrise. And Klo was laughing. She laughed a lot. And so did Sami. Special shakes all the way, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaann. So - been up for 24hours at this point as I wiggled on the sand as the sun rose....and then we went to find Colin and Adam, the guys who we met in Singy-pore and KloSam chilled with in Kho Samui and basically spent the day monged on the beach and drinking banana milkshake. DELICIOUS!! And then I realised I had been awake for 39 hours and it was time for bed.

As the 'tards didn't go to Kho Pi Pi the first time round, they decided that was to be their next destination. But being the well versed traveller that I am, I've already been and couldn't face the prospect of another 24 hours travelling...so Klo, Sami and Colin mooched off to the Pi Pi, whilst Adam and I headed for Kho Tao. It is sooooooo beautiful. Stayed on Sariee beach for the first couple of days...and got a quad bike to explore the island! And my goodness, I'm glad he didn't tell me that he'd never driven one before until AFTER we arrived at Mango Bay because those roads were more than rocky!! Snorkel, snorkel and then watched 'Knocked up' back at the beach...SO FUNNY! Then we scooched down to Chalok Baan Koa to do a spot of scuba scuba! Yippers, went back to Buddha View diving!!! Hurrah! However, I have never been out on such a rocky rocky boat. And Adam was sick. But the diving was nice. Some some wicked corals, but unfortunately, no shark.

Then came the journey from Hell. Returning back to mainland Thailand (Champhon) in order to be reunited with the ladies. A boat. Delayed. After already being rocked dans le matin for diving, and then two hours of rough sea. I was sick. In public. In a clear plastic bag. The shame. Followed by a 12 hour bus journey to Bangkok to arrive at 5am.

And then It was Sami's last couple of days. Sob. So we spent the entire time on Khao San road. Shopping. She didn't have any presents. But then we got drunk. And offered roles as extras in a Japanese movie!! So, as Sami Sami walked off down Khao San for the last time (I felt a stab of sadness to see her little back wander into the crowd, for it was the first time she was actually on her own), Klo, Colin and I headed off to a 5 Star hotel to shoot a movie! Nope, not that kind of movie....And it was wicked!! 1920s style hairdos and amazing dresses and make-up! The nicest we've looked the entire time travelling!!

Alors, a little bit longer in Thailand. But without our dear Sami. WE LOVE YOU SAMI!!! We'll miss you - and your random comments, your cheeky smile and, of course, Janet's phone calls.

The next chapter begins...

Dante's Divine comedy. And some.

Yes, yes. the classical tale of heaven, hell and purgatory, but with a KloSamFlynn twist in Asia. Sweeeet.

Well, Jakarta was fine. Lovely. Had a Manchester United restaurant and I got my nose pierced. Lovely.

Then we landed in Purgatory. More affectionately known as Singapore. To those in the know, 'The Inn Crowd'. The coolest little hostel to grace this side of the hemisphere. Free Internet, dvd player, breakfast included and a lovely dorm full of lovely people...rearing to get on the lash. It was like coming home. And that is what it became. We successfully managed to squander 5 great travelling days doing precisely nothing (yes, that is when all those photos bombarded facebook). Lush. Sami and I even bought stilettos for the occasions of boozy times. Vodka in the dorm (illicitly, of course) and then minimal dollar spendage once out and about. And the bars were amazing. There was the reputable 'Clinic' which sported bar staff in nurse and doctor uniforms, and...wait for it...wait for it.....wheel chairs for, well, chairs!!! I got a wicked handbrake turn down on the old bugger, only to be told by a somewhat ruffled doorman, "the chair is not for fun." What?? A gold air sprayed chair with wheels not for fun?! haha. I wheeled off into the clinical horizon (and then was caught and ejected from said non-fun chair). But this is not all...our dear Sami indeed live up to her name of 'Sami the Saviour' by being the bearer of FREE STUFF! Basically, got into this club for free, chatted to the owner (of 1/3 of the bar) and gt free champers, vodka and vino for the rest of the night! Sami, we salute ya!! Flash packers are us!
Once we finally managed to tear ourselves from our lovely abode in Singapore (quite reluctantly, it must be said), it was to Kuala Lumpa, the capital of Malaysia for us. Again, a lovely city with some striking towers, but we'd seen enough of cities, so we moved on pretty sharpish. It also appeared to have a strange effect on our Sami. She decided to bless us with a lovely breakfast - of frosties and strawberry milk (surprisingly, she didn't find it went down that well). Sami moment.

Hell.
Well, not really. Mostly for Sami. And Teresa (lovely Hong Kong girl that joined us). For now we we in Taman Negara. The oldest rain forest in Asia. Claiming to possess elephants and tigers...but we found leeches and ants the size of your thumb. Lush. We decided to laugh in the face of organised fun (mainly cos it cost a blinkin' wedge) and so, Klo, Sami, Duke (dutch chappie) and Teresa (as above) and I caught a boat up into the rain forest and began our own trek, complete with vague map and vague notions of what jungle might be like. We eventually arrived at our hide (big hut on stilts) after being soaked by what is obviously the reason for the name, 'rainforest' (which was particularly unfortunate for Chloe, as she didn't have a water-proof. She didn't have her blanket in a plastic bag. But her main concern was keeping her sandwich dry. Excellent priorities). And that night....whilst rats tap-danced on the roof of the hide and tiger roared (nope, both Klo and I mistook the rumbling roar of the hide whilst people walked about to be a tiger. Oh dear.), we saw an ant eater come out into the open and munch - official name being Tapir. COOL. And saw fireflies buzzing about. The sound of the jungle too...blinkin' cool.


The next day, we battled through thick vegetation, I ripped my trousers to the crotch, 5 mintues after proclaiming the at her 1 Pound Indonesian trainers were the best investment ever, Klo found that they had actually disintegrated and that her sandwich bag wasn't going to keep the leeches out. And there were LOADS of leeches. Got a good picture of a juicy one on my leg. Yummy.

Heaven.
After taking on the trials and tribulations thrown at us by the jungle, we felt that we were in need of a little holiday. Quite right. Tough work this travelling bloody malarkey. So to the Perhantian Islands we went. Long beach - paradise. Crystal clear waters, white sands and cheap accommodation and food. Lush. And the tans had pretty much vanished so a good top up was in order. Then some diving. SO CHEAP! Yes, yes, I managed to actually swim next to a hawks bill turtle and saw a crazy tiger fish, and then on the second dive, all three of us saw a ship wreck! A Vietnamese fishing boat covering in lovely corals, and we saw sea serpents and poisonous rock fish. Uber cool!

But heaven was fleeting, and after only 2 days in paradise, due to a short time schedule, we headed to Kota Baru. Checked out some Malaysian culture, and I tried out Malay drums and top spinning and was enchanted by 'The art of self-defence', whilst Sami and Klo were on their way to Thailand. Yes, we are no longer together. But only for a little while, do not despair. They are off to Kho Pi Pi and since I have already graced those paradise lands (yeah, yeah, showing off), I decided to head west to the island of Langkawi by myself. Terrorised by young children on the bus for 9 hours, I escaped onto the last ferry and arrived at Cenang beach just in time for a much needed glass of Chardonnay and a tuna salad. Lush. Since then I've slept loads on the beach, been awoken by a) the LOUDEST snoring man I've ever heard (my bed shook. Honest). b) drunken lads after the football, and been island hopping around three of the 99 islands around Langkawi. And getting boozy with some lovely peeps ce soir on duty free Voddy. 5 quid for a litre bottle of Smirnoff.

Thank you very much.