Bird’s Nest Bevarage – 25% bird’s nest

Where is he?

China: Nanning

Where has he been?

Cambodia (flag soon!)

Vietnam

Laos

Thailand

Malaysia

Australia – I decided to add the Aboriginal flag as they’ve lived on this continent for 40,000-100,000 years (archeologists disagree). Seems only fair. You rarely see it anywhere in Australia though….unsurprisingly.

Laos is a small, landlocked state nestled among its more recognisable neighbours of Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar/Burma and China.

It is a largely forgotten country that few people have heard of, can identify on a map, or pronounce its name properly (silent ‘s’). Fewer still have travelled there, though this is beginning to change, for better or worse.

Indeed when it is remembered inevitably someone comments on its status as the most bombed country in the world; an unsavoury, much quoted and (importantly) fallacious distinction.

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After spending far longer in Thailand than originally planned, though not at all frustrated by this (flexibility is the key to travel), i was moving onto country four of my journey.

It took Ruth and I 600km and 13 hours to reach Nong Khai, the border town in Thailand. It was a journey far more enjoyable thanks to our form of transport; this was my first experience of sleeper trains and i was pleasantly surprised. Though soft sleeper involves a private cabin, hard sleeper is quite satisfactory and we were shown to our bunks which were lined either side of the carriage.

The decor was straight from a sixties public sector catalogue. Leather seats, medical ward strip lighting and a colour pallette revolving around dark browns and lurid greens. But the carriage was comfortable with adequately sized beds, clean sheets and even a partition curtain to save fellow passengers the objectionable sight of my gaping, dribbling mouth which usually makes an unwelcome appearance on public transport.

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Another awesome time on this party island. I don’t need to go into too much detail. The full moon party was wicked as were the nights leading up to it, partying on the beach, meeting new people (hello Charlotte from Oslo – we are coming to see you next year), spectacularly winning a whiskey bucket by throttling the enemy in a musical chairs battle, and watching Ruth annihilate the competition in a ‘dance off’ with a random guy – i’ve never seen “side step, clap, side step, clap” lose yet!

However, instead of just sitting on a beach every single day (which can become awfully exerting – though someone has to do it) we spent one out of the nine on a boat tour.

A number of companies provide tours around the island. We picked Munchies. The choice had nothing to do with the name.

We set off on a large longboat packed on so tight we looked like an illegal immigrant boat trying to breach fortress Europe. The tour was a mixed bag but fun nontheless.

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Try and hold back the tears family and friends – looks like i won’t be home for quite some time. First my friend Indy decided to get married in April in India, since i was scheduled to be in dehli near the end of march i decided to postpone the flight. Then i got word the other day i have been accepted for an internship at a foreign policy think tank in Dehli. So probably not home till June or July in all liklehood. Very excited.

….can i hear party poppers and streamers going off?

….one of my favourite places in the world. I already described it in a previous post so i won’t go into detail.

We left Phuket via boat and lay on the front listening to music, catching some rays and chatting to other travellers. It was great to set eyes on Phi Phi’s melting limestone cliffs, arcs of white sand and clear turquoise water. Again. I was anticipating a welcome back party, ticker tape parade along the strip of shops and restaurants and a healthy turnout of beaming Thai people waving at me and caling my name. Nothing – except some Thai people waving at me, but they were touts. Seems no one had heard I was returning.

Found a room in the Andaman which was up the far end of the beach. Not a patch on the last hotel but that’s to be expected on a gap year. It had a pool though which was put to good use, in particular being the venue for a new game Sam and I invented called Heads.

Rules of Heads:

1) Two players – each must have head.
2) One player at either end of the pool.
3) One ball – preferably hard and makes a nice thwacking sound upon contact with skin.
4) Each takes a turn to throw ball – aim at the persons face.
5) Receiver is not allowed to move.
6) Continue until face is read and nurofen a necessity.

Most of our days were spent on the gorgeous beach, around the pool and eating in seafood restaurants with fantastic views of the sea and limestone karsts. Most of our nights were productively spent in Apache Bar. An awesome venue; great music, great crowd and always packed.

But little did we know that trouble was just over the hill. Literally.

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I arrived in Phuket and checked into the hotel Ruth and Sam were in; an amazing place called the Phulin Resort which was a 3-star, way-out-of-my-budget, package hotel – in essence i was taking a holiday from travelling.

I’ll keep this post brief because Phuket was not my cup of tea. Most of our days were spent around the pool sunbathing, trying to escape the almost unbearable heat and protecting Sam and Ruth from further sun exposure – “Look in the mirror” was the first thing i said when we were reunited. Their skin shone like a red neon sign.

On our final day we made it to Kata beach with its beautiful strip of white sand and clear sea. But a beach could not make up for Phuket as an island. Where were the tasty, cheap food stalls? Why were there in-house singers in the restaurants? Were all the boisterous girls in go-go bars just really friendly? What were all those old, white men doing with young thai woman (girls) – uncles visiting nieces????

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The new travelling trio (Ruth, Sam and I) left separately to Phuket. They travelled via plane and i went by bus, both because i am petrified of flying still, and i needed to get a visa extension. The nearest country on the route to Phuket was Myanmar. After all my debates about whether or not to travel to the country i found it necessary, at least for a day.

The journey did not start well. Why do i always find the most inept taxi drivers? Even with the bus station written down in Thai he spent half an hour trying to drop me elsewhere. Arriving at the correct station I found the bus to Rangon (the Thai border town) did not leave for two hours. So i had to sit and listen to cars crash on a nearby arcade machine at ear piercing levels. The bus i eventually boarded was no VIP extravaganza as evident by the locals who filled it up. I was the sole traveller. Estate Agents would describe the vehicle as brimming with character. The air con was arctic and permanent, the stringy, moth eaten blanket was impregnated with bed bugs and the seats were uncomfortable and made of only the hardest sticky leather and plastic – like sleeping on a bed of a thousand feathers.

Ten hours later i arrived in a dark and deserted bus station in Rangon. Luckily a guesthouse glowingly reviewed in the Lonely Planet was just around the corner. I would hate to visit the reviewers house. My room was small and basic. The toilet/shower was disgustingly dirty, mouldy and inefficient. Taking a shower would have been quicker under a dripping tap. And the door did not shut properly.

Next day was the visa run. Myanmar here i come – even if for an hour or two.

Thought there might be other backpackers on a similar trip but i was the only one ushered onto a small, wooden longboat to cross the small body of water separating Thailand from Myanmar. On the way we stopped at Thai imigration to get stamped out. A small boy hopped on, took it to the office and then stayed in the boat as we pulled off.

My new friends name was Ali, a Burmese kid from across the water. I began to ask him various questions including whether i should call the country Burma or Myanmar; the problematics of a name are a particular issue for this country.

Naming is significantly more than an exercise in linguistic creativity.

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I recently updated my Red Menace page. Thought it was overdue now i am in China.

Go here to see the route of my travels and which countries my flip flops have painted red.

I realise this is not a spelling bee, but how do you spell excitement? I’ll tell you.

s.u.g.a.r.f.a.c.t.o.r.y

Our anticipation on the bus journey to this monumental human creation (a rival to the seven wonders of late antiquity indeed) was ferverous and palpable. Ruth’s bladder almost succumbed to the suspense.

A factory producing sugar.

Sugar!

Factory!!

Sightseeing!!!

A strange combination involving connections my less imaginative brain would never have made.

Actually sugar can be quite interesting. Sydney Mintz, in his seminal text, ‘Sweetness and Power’ articulates the remarkable history of sugar – a tale intimately tied into slavery, colonialism and globalization, the confluence of which mutually constituted tyhe entities of Europe, Asia, and Africa and played no insignificant role in the industrialisation of Great Britain and the development of capitalism.

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