The Fanta Pants Diaries

Now that I’ve run out of words, I thought maybe you folks who are still checking the site might be interested in seeing some of the photos I took whilst Bec and I were volunteering at the orphanage in Nepal last year, starting with a couple of black and white shots just to get the ball rolling….

If you have read any of the previous entries about our time at the orphanage, you’ll know that the kids were so so so so happy. Despite having nothing, they danced and laughed and joked and played as though they had not a care in the world. But there were always times when each child would be quiet, and thoughtful, and would appear to have deep thoughts running through their minds. But mostly these occurances and these expressions were whilst they were watching tv. Nothing like some tv to keep a roomful of kids quiet.

Unnati

Bol

Nurmaya

Nisha

Sushma

Nisha (again…)

In Chiang Mai, they have some strange guardians of their wats….

But most of our time was spent down south, lazing about on Koh Pha Ngan. First, it was Bottle Beach….

Then, it was round to Haad Sadet, for another week of lazing about in hammocks, reading books, and eating seafood…

Our view for every meal….

The End.

Hoi An - where we had our wedding outfits tailored, and managed to squeeze in a day chilling on the beach. I was well looked after by Long, the friendly tailor, who made sure my brown wedding suit was top notch. Yes brown. As if I’d get married in black!

In Hoi An we also met some of the friendliest locals….

Onto Hanoi, where it was fifteen cent beers, hooning through the streets on motorbikes, and surviving vicious rain storms (whilst still drinking fifteen cent beers!). You can also see where those fifteen cent beers come from, although sometimes it’s best no to look…

And then it was onto Halong Bay, with its beautiful scenery…. (except for the redhead)….

Inside the Amazing Cave….

The Jump….

And then a gentle swim….

Surrounded by other boats in the bay, as night fell….

On Monkey Island with my beautiful fiancee….

And eating a seafood dinner on a floating restaurant….

Getting from Muang Ngoi to Vieng Xai, near the Vietnamese border, was a battle. We got on the bus in the middle of the night clambering over sleeping bodies in the aisle, it broke down for four hours (check out the engine parts laying in front of the bus), and asking for a seat was sometimes fraught with danger….

Eventually we made it to Sam Neu (almost to Vieng Xai), where I took this photo in the local market. Something about the look on the guy’s face sort of creeps me out.

And then finally, we got to Vieng Xai, home of the Pathet Laos’ secret caves, complete with a statue celebrating the victory over the United States. And let’s face it, if another country bombed the crap out of me for nine years without a breather, and then finally fucked off, I’d probably erect a statue in honour of the occasion as well. We were also pretty shocked by the fact that the locals are still sweeping areas to check for unexploded bombs (the UXO on the sign stands for Unexploded Ordinance). On our second day in town, the most exciting thing that happened was Bec giving me a haircut…

Remeber the story about getting into the over-crowded truck with crazy Swiss guy. Check this out…. and remember, in that first photo, I’m still to get in after Bec…

Well, technically this first one below isn’t in Laos, but it’s damn near close enough. This is Bec with Sayan, the greatest, friendliest guesthouse/restaurant owner you could ever hope to meet, who runs the Easy Restaurant/Guesthouse in Chiang Khong, in the northeast of Thailand where most people cross the Mekong from Thailand into Laos. This was taken at immigration, after Sayan had given us a lift down there. Best. Guy. Ever.

After we left Sayan we had the Gibbon Experience, which you’ve seen. Following that it was on to Nong Khiaw, from where we took the wettest boat ride down to Luang Prabang. No photos of the boat ride, but here’s a couple of shots that show the beauty of Nong Khiaw.

Luang Prabang, the town of a thousand monks. Here’s some shots from the morning alms giving, where each morning the monks walk through the town and accept offerings of food from the locals. It is quite a moving thing to see, and whilst I tried to respectfully keep my distance when taking photos, there were always folks getting way too close to the ceremony with their huge cameras.

Taking a boat ride (the best way to get around in Laos) from Luang Prabang out to a small waterfall nearby.

After Luang Prabang, it was back up north to the village of Muang Ngoi, a single-road village on the Nam Ou river reachable only by boat. It was from here that we walked a few hours through rice patties to the tiny village of Ban Na, and passed on the way a cave from whence a stream popped up out of the rock. Along with the rice patties, we also had to walk along a muddy, leech infested track through the jungle/forest. First off, Muang Ngoi….
The view from our riverside bungalow… and then looking back to our bungalow from the boat as we left

A kataw match (like volleyball, but played using the rules of soccer, ie - no hands, only feet and heads) in the main street…

The main street…

Gran Mama….. The place we stayed at was run by Mama, who looked after us like her own kids (hence the title). This is Mama’s mama - Gran Mama….

And some shots from the walk to Ban Na…

Aren’t photos sooooo much cooler than words. Words are like myspace - old and crap. Photos are like facebook - all new and shiny. Ooh yeah.

So, I’m home. I’m unemployed. And I’ve got thousands upon thousands of photos to go through. Rather than bore you with more words, I’m gonna hit you with just a couple of those photos, because that’s what the kids love these days - travel blogs with photos.

Starting right here, with the Gibbon Experience…….. you remember the Gibbon Experience don’t you? Just click on the pics for a larger view…

On the way to the treehouses, having crossed the river in the 4WD, at some points we still had to vacate the car so it could make it up some of the muddier hills.

Zipping through and over the jungle - bloody amazing….. Notice in the first photo you can’t even see where the zip line started from it was that far away. And going through the clouds was breathtakingly surreal.

The treehouse we got engaged in. If you look closely at the first pic you’ll see Bec standing at the bottom of the tree, below the treehouse. The first two photos were both taken whilst zipping through the air, the second one is on the way into the treehouse, the zip line being the only way to get there. It shows the split level - the main section being the loungeroom/kitchen/bedroom/entertaining area (as seen in the last photo), and downstairs to the left is the bathroom/toilet.

Our guides. The first one was taken first thing in the morning, whilst we followed our black-clad guide through the middle of the jungle (making our own path as we went) searching for gibbons. And finally, a small sample of the scratches I ended up with after blazing that trail through the jungle

I love this photo, as the somewhat blank look on Catherine’s face sort of captures the exhaustion that cancels out the amazement that I’m sure we were all feeling in regard to where we were and what we were doing. The legs belong to her husband Simon. They had got married only a month or two before, and this day was Cath’s birthday. Thankfully Simon had generously let Bec and I stay in the private treehouse……. as that proposal would have been all the more nerve-wracking if I had to do it in a treehouse we were sharing with four other people. This was taken in one of the treehouses - check out the piles of muddied boots scattered around in the background.

Getting around on foot….. through mud, creeks, and rivers. And finally, Bec and Tom, a friendly German, taking a well-earned break in a small village on the trek home. Notice the mud and grease all over Bec’s top, coming mostly from the splash-back of the grease from the rollers whilst zipping around.

Once we buy a new computer I’ll get around to making a little movie of our time at the Gibbon Experience, because that’s what else the kids love these days - travel blogs with movies. Because who’s got time to read anything anymore?

During the course of our travels in Southeast Asia, soon to total almost four months in two stints, my fiancee and I (Ha! I love saying that) have spent more than enough time in Bangkok. As a transit hub it is almost impossible to avoid. And so after flying in from Hanoi we spent just one night around Khao San Road before catching an overnight bus south, to within a boat ride of some of Thailand’s most famous islands.

Normally, we try and avoid the horribly touristy areas, generally preferring to visit quieter, out-of-the-way places. And when heading to a beach in Thailand, our attitude was exactly that. A pristine, secluded beach with a few bungalows on the sand and maybe a bar (well, not maybe, definately a bar! But a quiet bar) and a stack of well-thumbed paperback thrillers to read, that was what we were after (but then, who isn’t?) What we wanted to avoid were the party beaches filled with wanna-be hippies twirling fire and taking drugs. Where we ended up was Koh Pha Ngan, an island famous for it Full Moon parties; a huge rave held once a month where the beach fills up with thousands of wanna-be hippies twirling fire and taking drugs and dancing to the sort of music (trance or someother such crap) that can generally only be tolerated whilst twirling fire and taking drugs.

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Well, the leap sure was worth it. Great shot by Bec…..

I looked across to Bec from my position on the roof.

“Ok, you ready with the camera?”
“Yep.”
“Right then. One……..two……..three!!!!!”

I leapt out into the fresh air and found myslef sideways, arms and legs flailing about crazily. Bec snapped away with the camera as I fell. I wanted the photo to be as dramatic as possible but in trying to achieve that (with the ridiculous flapping arms and legs) I somehow overlooked the fact that I was about to go crashing into the green water twelve feet below me. By the time I remembered, prompted somewhat by the green wall rushing up towards me at warp speed, it was too late to turn my body, and I slammed into the water almost horizontal. Sound disappeared. Water rushed up my nose.

After a few disorienting seconds I surfaced, coughing and spluttering.

“I think I broke my rib,” I called up to Bec, only half joking. I treaded water and attempted to catch my breath whilst taking in my surroundings. All around me, sticking up out of the water like black and green icebergs, were limestone karst mountains. There was just one other boat on our secluded little cove amongst the cliffs, and the sound of splashing and laughing was all that could be heard. This was Halong Bay, in the north of Vietnam.

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With our bags bursting at the seams, including our extra bag - a small wheely bag stuffed full of wedding clothes, we said goodbye to Hoi An and caught an overnight bus north to Hanoi.

Two minutes into the trip, whilst the bus still slowly made its way along the flat straight streets of Hoi An, the lady in front of me started vomiting. Poor thing, it must be no fun getting car-sick, but come on - at least the previous chunderers we’d encountered had the excuse of winding mountain roads. Perhaps it is Bec and me who induce the vomiting, rather than the vehicle’s movement - the sight of a skinny tall redhead with pasty skin trying to squeeze into a tiny seat sends them over the edge. Thankfully she regained her composure and managed to halt the vomiting, hocking and spitting and the remainder of the trip passed rather smoothly.

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