Rhys does the DeltaCu Chi & Mekong Delta, Vietnam - There's no getting away from it. Following the backpacker trail is definitely the cheapest and easiest way to see the scenery, particularly in and around HCMC.
I'm sure there's major rewards for blazing your own trail in this country, but without a limitless budget its hard to go past a US$3.50 tour to the Cu Chi tunnels or a one day trip to the Delta for just US$6.
Cu Chi was perhaps the most 'Hollywood' of the historical sites I've seen yet. Arriving at the tunnels, located about an hour and a half mini-bus ride west of HCMC, our driver only just managed to find a parking space between the giant tour buses already parked at the visitor centre.
We were herded into an airless hut to watch what basically amounted to Vietnamese Government propaganda. Grainy black and white footage showed the bravey of the North Vietnamese soldiers in using the 200km of tunnels to cause hell for the American invaders during the Vietnam War.
But if the audio visual side of the tour was disappointing, in typical Asian style the hands-on part was awesome. Our gung-ho guide ensured everyone had a chance to stuff themselves into a trap door entrance to one of the original tunnels. A variety of nasty booby traps were also on show.
The VC apparently used the traps throughout communist-friendly villages as well as tunnels to snare curious American soldiers.
Of course, no visit to Cu Chi would be complete without stuffing already sweaty tourists down the tunnels themselves. After seeing some of the original sized shafts, the 30m length of Westerner-friendly tunnel we shuffled through was twice as wide as the real deal.
Nevertheless, it was a fairly intense experience crawling along 3m below ground in a hot, airless tunnel. My nerves were already a little shaky after the large tour group in front of us stalled when a Mexican panicked halfway along and refused to budge.
While the tunnels themselves may be a little scary, the thought of being trapped underground in the middle of an hysterical tour group was just downright terrifying.
The following day we did the Delta, again with Happy Tour and again with almost the same small group of backpackers. It was an action-packed, fast moving day full of touristy activities and gift shop opportunities, but it made for an efficient way to get a gist of the region in just eight hours.
Think broad, muddy-brown rivers, shady villages and a maze of canals traversed by wooden punt and canoe-shaped rowboat.
The Delta island we visited was apparently 100km long and 30k wide and home to 1 million people. But from what we saw of it - the dense tropical bush that separated the canals, the small villages - it may have been 100m by 30m.
It was hard to get a sense of the size of the region. A two day or two week tour may not even cover ten percent of the Delta and its people.
I'm sure there's major rewards for blazing your own trail in this country, but without a limitless budget its hard to go past a US$3.50 tour to the Cu Chi tunnels or a one day trip to the Delta for just US$6.
Cu Chi was perhaps the most 'Hollywood' of the historical sites I've seen yet. Arriving at the tunnels, located about an hour and a half mini-bus ride west of HCMC, our driver only just managed to find a parking space between the giant tour buses already parked at the visitor centre.
We were herded into an airless hut to watch what basically amounted to Vietnamese Government propaganda. Grainy black and white footage showed the bravey of the North Vietnamese soldiers in using the 200km of tunnels to cause hell for the American invaders during the Vietnam War.
But if the audio visual side of the tour was disappointing, in typical Asian style the hands-on part was awesome. Our gung-ho guide ensured everyone had a chance to stuff themselves into a trap door entrance to one of the original tunnels. A variety of nasty booby traps were also on show.The VC apparently used the traps throughout communist-friendly villages as well as tunnels to snare curious American soldiers.
Of course, no visit to Cu Chi would be complete without stuffing already sweaty tourists down the tunnels themselves. After seeing some of the original sized shafts, the 30m length of Westerner-friendly tunnel we shuffled through was twice as wide as the real deal.
Nevertheless, it was a fairly intense experience crawling along 3m below ground in a hot, airless tunnel. My nerves were already a little shaky after the large tour group in front of us stalled when a Mexican panicked halfway along and refused to budge.
While the tunnels themselves may be a little scary, the thought of being trapped underground in the middle of an hysterical tour group was just downright terrifying.
The following day we did the Delta, again with Happy Tour and again with almost the same small group of backpackers. It was an action-packed, fast moving day full of touristy activities and gift shop opportunities, but it made for an efficient way to get a gist of the region in just eight hours.Think broad, muddy-brown rivers, shady villages and a maze of canals traversed by wooden punt and canoe-shaped rowboat.
The Delta island we visited was apparently 100km long and 30k wide and home to 1 million people. But from what we saw of it - the dense tropical bush that separated the canals, the small villages - it may have been 100m by 30m.
It was hard to get a sense of the size of the region. A two day or two week tour may not even cover ten percent of the Delta and its people.
Labels: Vietnam
Travel - I've been quite suprised in the ease with which I've been able to log on, update Backpack Storybook, manage my photos and generally keep in touch with the world while on the move through SE Asia.
Internet speeds have ranged from adequate to quite quick across Bangkok, Cambodia and now Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam. I've had no problems uploading posts and images to the blog or emailing friends. Drop outs are rare.
Cambodia was the big suprise in this regard. In Siem Reap or Sihanoukville they may not have basics like sealed roads or garbage collections, but they have very reliable internet services.
Dealing with all the photos I've been taking hasn't been as hard as I thought. If we have a TV in our room Jacq and I will have a mini slide show and watch the days images with the D70s hooked up to the set with an AV cord. I usually delete the obviously crap ones, which means a 1GB memory card might be good for a week or so.
Every major city and town so far has offered memory card to CD burning services. Here in HCMC it cost $3 per CD. I usually burn one copy for the backpack and a back-up to send home. I get a little nervous about losing any images so I don't always wait for a full memory card before burning. But I do always check on a computer that the CD works before deleting from my memory card.
Getting the images onto a computer is a little trickier, depending on the internet cafe. On a USB drive I have a copy of Irfanview, a freely downloadable photo editing program that takes up little space.
Most cafes don't seem to mind when I load it onto their computers. Then I hook the D70s up via the USB cord and copy across any images I'll need for this blog or email. At around 3MB per image they're too big for uploading so I downsize them with Irfanview. Then I plug in my USB drive and save them for later use.
Most computers so far have only one USB connection, usually at the back. And they don't always recognize the USB drive or camera. But for the most part its been suprisingly easy.
Internet speeds have ranged from adequate to quite quick across Bangkok, Cambodia and now Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam. I've had no problems uploading posts and images to the blog or emailing friends. Drop outs are rare.
Cambodia was the big suprise in this regard. In Siem Reap or Sihanoukville they may not have basics like sealed roads or garbage collections, but they have very reliable internet services.
Dealing with all the photos I've been taking hasn't been as hard as I thought. If we have a TV in our room Jacq and I will have a mini slide show and watch the days images with the D70s hooked up to the set with an AV cord. I usually delete the obviously crap ones, which means a 1GB memory card might be good for a week or so.
Every major city and town so far has offered memory card to CD burning services. Here in HCMC it cost $3 per CD. I usually burn one copy for the backpack and a back-up to send home. I get a little nervous about losing any images so I don't always wait for a full memory card before burning. But I do always check on a computer that the CD works before deleting from my memory card.
Getting the images onto a computer is a little trickier, depending on the internet cafe. On a USB drive I have a copy of Irfanview, a freely downloadable photo editing program that takes up little space.
Most cafes don't seem to mind when I load it onto their computers. Then I hook the D70s up via the USB cord and copy across any images I'll need for this blog or email. At around 3MB per image they're too big for uploading so I downsize them with Irfanview. Then I plug in my USB drive and save them for later use.
Most computers so far have only one USB connection, usually at the back. And they don't always recognize the USB drive or camera. But for the most part its been suprisingly easy.
Labels: Photography, Travel
Reunification Palace, HCMCThe Museum of Ho Chi Minh City was an early highlight. Displays signposted in Vietnamese and English took visitors from the cradle of Vietnamese civilisation through to the juicy stuff - fighting the French, Japanese, the French again and the US.
The War Remnants Museum continued on this theme, but with bigger props. Parked in the courtyard were several tanks, a Huey helicopter, an F4 jet and an array of long range artillery and bombs. It was amazing to read of the range of some of the guns - up to 40 kilometres in some instances - and their firepower.
But the smaller weapons looked the most nasty, with a variety of grenades and mines jam packed full of metal shards and "flechettes".The Remants Museum was at times laughably onesided as the Vietnamese Government attempted to outline the war from its side. But at least they have changed the name from the former "Museum of American War Crimes". And it was interesting to get the spin from a non-Western source for once.
The Reunification Palace was a personal fave, in an Austin Powers, sixties-cool kinda way. Once the residence of the South Vietnamese prez, the old shack came to prominence when the NVA busted down the front gates in 1975 to claim South Vietnam.
It has a couple of levels of offices and official rooms, but the groovy stuff is on level three with a mini-cinema (red velour bucket chairs) and gambling room decked out in oranges, creams and browns.
Some of the other stuff was kinda cool too. Like the helipad on the roof and the command centre in the bunker. Admittedly, very functional. But not nearly as stylish as the upstairs.
Labels: Vietnam
Uncle Ho, Ho Chi Minh CityHo Chi Minh City, Vietnam - The difference between countries becomes almost instantly apparent when we cross at the Bavet/Moc Bai border, four hours east of Phnom Penh.
Vietnam is more ordered, less trash-strewn and the traffic less hectic than Cambodia. The road is in better shape too. Which is a blessing since my fellow travellers and I are crammed into a mini-bus designed for slight-framed Asians, not beer bellied backpackers.
HCMC seems to stretch almost to the border as most of the two hour journey into town is spent passing shops and factories rather than the flooded paddie fields of Cambodia.Once the bus dumped us in the city we all split in separate directions like turtles with giant, nylon shells. Jacq and I checked a couple of musty rooms before settling on an upmarket guesthouse room on the first floor above backpacker central. Upmarket in that it cost US$14 instead of the US$8 price range we had looked at.
We've quickly realised that trying to avoid backpacker ground zero in any Asian city is a futile exercise. It's where the cheap bus tickets are sold, the memory cards burnt to CD and the best beers chilled.
Outside of these areas its a bitch to navigate, communicate or find decent accommodation. Instead we make Pham Ngu Lao our base and leave every morning to see the sights, only returning in the evening for beer, food and sleep.I like the city already. There are less touts. There seems to be enough enterprise and jobs for the Vietnamese to get on with their lives rather than seeing us as their next client. There are boulevards and they are tree-lined. And there is bia hoi.
Little bia hoi stalls set up in the arvo with tiny tables and plastic chairs and dispense crisp, cold beer from the keg for a 3000d a glass, or less than AUD$0.20.
Not that I have bought it by the glass. Whenever I approach the Bui Vien bia hoi stall the old lady running the shop sternly points me to a seat and then fills up a 1.5L jug of beer without even being asked.
I've realised that dropping into bia hoi for a 'quick one' before dinner is a risky affair. Either eat early and resign to drinking the rest of the night away, or arrive at dusk and snack from the passing food vendors and let mama san do the rest.Backpack Storybook tip: We bought a US$6 ticket from Phnom Penh to HCMC. On the Cambodian side we travelled in a shitheap bus owned by Narin. We changed at the border (a relatively hassle free, though confusing exercise, 1-2hrs) into a Happy Tour bus. Very small but brand new. Seven hours all up. Mekong Express does it in five hours, no bus change. US$12. Worth the money.
Otres village, SihanoukvillePhnom Penh, Cambodia - As glad as I am to get back on the road for the next part of our adventures, I will also be a little sad to leave Cambodia.
It's not on the way to anywhere, and, having seen the major sights, it's unlikely I'll come back to the country in this lifetime.
With that in mind, I realised that for the fortnight or so that we traversed the country top to bottom, I really started to get into the swing of Khmer life. I learnt to ignore the dust, the heat and the constant attention from the moto drivers and hawkers and enjoy the country and the people
Despite the poverty and the dark past, the Cambodians I met were friendly and ready with a smile. They reminded me a little of the Balinese in that way.
Like Ban, our moto driver up in Siem Reap, who sat stock still upright on the scooter that towed the tuk tuk past the various temples and merely squinted when buses and trucks threw up clouds of dust.
Or Bonnie and the rest of the boys at Makara guesthouse in Sihanoukville, who toiled behind the counter from six in the morning until 10 at night, seven days a week. I didn't have the heart to ask him what he earnt for his incessant work hours.
Hard work and long hours seems to be the strategy for improving the lot of Cambodia. Nothing I saw gave me any confidence that governments or business were doing their bit to stop corruption. But a new generation coming through - and there's certainly a lot of them - without the stain of Pol Pot, may make a difference in the near future.
It's not on the way to anywhere, and, having seen the major sights, it's unlikely I'll come back to the country in this lifetime.
With that in mind, I realised that for the fortnight or so that we traversed the country top to bottom, I really started to get into the swing of Khmer life. I learnt to ignore the dust, the heat and the constant attention from the moto drivers and hawkers and enjoy the country and the people
Despite the poverty and the dark past, the Cambodians I met were friendly and ready with a smile. They reminded me a little of the Balinese in that way.
Like Ban, our moto driver up in Siem Reap, who sat stock still upright on the scooter that towed the tuk tuk past the various temples and merely squinted when buses and trucks threw up clouds of dust.
Or Bonnie and the rest of the boys at Makara guesthouse in Sihanoukville, who toiled behind the counter from six in the morning until 10 at night, seven days a week. I didn't have the heart to ask him what he earnt for his incessant work hours.
Hard work and long hours seems to be the strategy for improving the lot of Cambodia. Nothing I saw gave me any confidence that governments or business were doing their bit to stop corruption. But a new generation coming through - and there's certainly a lot of them - without the stain of Pol Pot, may make a difference in the near future.
Labels: Cambodia
S21 prison cell, Phnom PenhIt's a bit of a macabre pilgrimige for Westerners to visit Tuol Sleng, or S21, the former school where the Khmer Rouge sent 14,000 accused Cambodians and a handful of Westerners for interrogation and torture.
At least my visit at the benefit of hindsight. There's been enough research on S21 and the activities of the regime to learn a little about what they did and why they did it.
But when the Vietnamese army defeated the KR in January 1979 I was yet to be born and the rest of the Western world was yet to show much interest in what had happened in Cambodia in the preceeding five years under Pol Pot.As David Chandler wrote in 'Voices of S21', officials at S21 worked on the assumption that the prisoners were guilty because they had been accused. Often the officials had no idea why they had been sent to them. And so began the interrogation and, inevitibly, torture.
The hundreds of black and white portrait photos of the S21 prisoners make for haunting viewing. Most are terrified as they look into the camera. Some defiant. Some exhausted.
Regardless, all of them were eventually killed. Some by torture but most murdered at the Choeung Ek killing fields.Choeung Ek was 15 kilometres out of town along a dusty, pot-holed riddled road. I was expecting a barren patch of land but the fields are now green pastures lined by trees and lilly-filled lakes.
The sound of school children singing made for a haunting feeling as we navigated through the pot-holed field.
Never one to shy away from the past, the Cambodian authorities had posted signs in English identifying various sites. A tree that had been used to kill infants. The shed which stored DDT to kill the smell of the corpses - and anyone buried alive. A tree used to hang a loud speaker to drown out the cries of those being murdered.
Labels: Cambodia
Near Sisowath Quay, riverside Phnom PenhPhnom Penh, Cambodia - Now that we know not to expect a quaint city full of Tamraind tree-lined boulevards and French architecture, Phnom Penh ain't all that bad.
Recharged after a week by the beach at Sihanoukville in the south, we returned to PP - where we spent a night earlier this month - to experience what this city has to offer.
This time we've opted for the Boeung Kak Lake area in the north of the city. We had heard it was quieter and a bit more chilled than the busy river front area we stayed in last time.
Quiet and "chilled" are all relative terms I suppose. I doubt anywhere is quiet in this city.
After checking several guesthouses right on the lake, we've decided to stay in a glorious old French faux-colonial building a street back. It has fifteen foot high ceillings, chandeliers and a big broad balcony facing onto the street where like to sit in the evenings and drink from litre bottles of Mekong whiskey.
Recharged after a week by the beach at Sihanoukville in the south, we returned to PP - where we spent a night earlier this month - to experience what this city has to offer.
This time we've opted for the Boeung Kak Lake area in the north of the city. We had heard it was quieter and a bit more chilled than the busy river front area we stayed in last time.
Quiet and "chilled" are all relative terms I suppose. I doubt anywhere is quiet in this city.
After checking several guesthouses right on the lake, we've decided to stay in a glorious old French faux-colonial building a street back. It has fifteen foot high ceillings, chandeliers and a big broad balcony facing onto the street where like to sit in the evenings and drink from litre bottles of Mekong whiskey.
Labels: Cambodia
Otres Beach, SihanoukvilleI usually wake up late, say around 8am. Ha. So much for getting up at dawn each morning in the cool to take photos of the locals going about their business.
There's no surf in this beach town so I rarely feel rushed to get out and do anything. We eat breakfast at our guesthouse restaurant tree house, usually muesli and fruit salad for me (US$2.50).
If we have rented a moto for the day (US$4 plus fuel) then Jacq and I might load up the backpack with towels and water and burn out to Outres Beach, five kays out of town and away from all the hawkers and bright red Euro tourists.
Lunch
We might drive into the market area first and grab a bunch of bananas and a couple of baguettes for lunch (maybe US$0.50 for the lot, tops). Eat them under the shade of a cabana at the beach in between swims.
If we haven't got a moto then maybe just a swim at our local stretch of beach and a read on the sun lounge under the umbrella.I went for a run with Jacq one morning but nearly died of heat stroke afterwards so I'm not that keen on jogging at the moment.
Afternoon
Maybe we'll throw the touch rugby ball around on the beach in the arvo. Maybe hit the internet cafe for an hour or two (US$1.50 per hour, fast, reliable connection).
Evening
This is my favourite time. The temperature drops a little, the breeze picks up and the ramshackle beach bars come to life.
The sunsets are pretty damn good here at Occheuteal Beach too, so I might noodle around with my camera for half an hour or so.
Then its a short walk up the beach to one of the many bars. We sit at tables on the sand and I usually drink handles of Angkor Draft for US$0.50. Jacq used to enjoy the cocktails for about US$1.50 a pop but they were unreliable so she's switched to buying a bottle of Mekong whiskey at the beginning of the evening (US$1.50 plus US$0.50 for each mixer).
The seafood is very good here. We've had very nice barracuda (US$3.50) a couple of times, cooked on the barbie at the Mermaid Bar and Restaurant. A Japanese restaurant up the hill named Happa also does great tepenyaki. I think a meal for two with a wine each cost less than US$10.
A short walk back down the beach in the evening cool brings us back to Makara guesthouse and our little courtyard room.
Labels: Cambodia
The karaoke is so bad even the locals are looking for a way off the busTravel - Despite having been in country for less than two weeks, I feel I'm as qualified as anyone else to discuss this amazing cultural phenomenon.
Like some sort of scene from A Clockwork Orange, I've been sat down and forced to watch hours of this stuff, mostly while on bus trips through the Cambodian countryside. Within minutes of leaving the bus terminal, the driver's assistant fires up the DVD and keeps it going until we arrive at our destination, whether its 30 minutes or six hours away.
Cambodian karoake video clips rarely stray from the well worn path of: boy meets girl, overcome adversity, and reunite - all within five minutes and without nary a kiss or any form of physical contact.
The girls are quite often stunning but the blokes, well, they tend to be a bit ordinary. Round faced, pudgy and quite frankly punching above their weight in trying to lure the girl. I don't know what they're singing about but it must be good to keep the chicks interested.
The settings are also curious. In one clip the standard picturesque lake was replaced by an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Same deal though. Meet, hold hands, stare wistfully into the chlorinated water and depart. Maybe it was filmed during the dry season and all the lakes were muddy bogs?
Sometimes the storylines can get quite dramatic. Another clip featured a boy being accosted by bandits on the side of the road. They shot him in the head at close range (with some sort of advanced technology pistol that issued no fire nor recoil) and he collapsed on the ground. Blood flowed from his mouth and head. What appeared to be brain matter was sprinkled throughout the blood.
The two bandits made their getaway on - what else - a scooter.
Labels: Cambodia
Occhueteal Beach sunsetSihanoukville, Cambodia - Leaving Phnom Penh from the Capitol bus terminal felt like being one of the last South Vietnamese to hitch a ride on an American helicopter as Saigon fell.
A bus arrives. A crush of humanity presses against its sides, trying to get inside. I don't blame them. I want out of Phnom Penh too.
A bus arrives. A crush of humanity presses against its sides, trying to get inside. I don't blame them. I want out of Phnom Penh too.
Jacq and I bought our tickets the day before so we get a seat. I am very glad to be on my way to the beach. A week in the heat and smog has made me realise that perhaps big cities aren't for me.Four hours south is Cambodia's only beach resort. It's ramshackle and unsophisticated but we don't care.
Rooms by the beach cost just US$5 and there is almost no one around. A scooter drives down the main road here at Occhueteal Beach perhaps once every minute or two.
There's not a great deal to do here. But for once I don't actually mind.
Labels: Cambodia
Evening on the Tonle Sap river bankPhnom Penh, Cambodia - As I may have mentioned before, Christopher Koch's book Highway's to a War was a bit of of an inspiration for this trip through south east Asia. This is how he described Phnom Penh when fictional war correspondant Mike Langford arrived in the mid 1970s:
"Old Phnom Penh,which no longer exists, which will never exist again, was a French city on the Mekong coloured Mediteranean pink and cream. Tamarinds and flame trees lined its grand, half-empty boulevards, and it's handsome, old French villas had walled gardens. The cooking was still French, the restaurants excellent and the coffees, pastries and bread a delight."But a couple of decades of civil war, five or so years deserted when the Khmer Rouge came to town and drove everyone into the country, and rapacious development and westernisation meant PP looked little different to many medium-sized Asian cities when I arrived late in the afternoon.
The boulevards are still tree-lined and the French villas still exist on the river, but scooters, smog and gutters full of trash mark PP's ascension to the 21st century.
I had originally intended to stay a week or two here. I could see myself and Jacq living in a little room on the river, having baguettes and coffee for breakfast and exploring the city with the my camera on my shoulder.
But it's too loud, too noisy and too full on. We've decided to keep heading south for the beach and may come back to PP on our way across to Vietnam.
Labels: Cambodia
Angkor Wat at sunsetOur tuk tuk driver Ban dropped us at the start of the causeway a few hours before sundown and Jacq and I spent the time exploring the complex. It is absolutely huge.
Some fast figures: built in the 12th century for Angkor king Suryvaraman II, the outer wall measures 1025m by 802m. The moat is 190m and in total the temple walls encloses 200-odd hectares. In other words, huge.
Just walking down the causeway over the moat and into the temple proper took five or ten minutes. We climbed the very steep steps up to the temple towers and looked out into the Cambodian rainforest. It was hard to believe that around us were another dozen or so temples. All I could see was jungle.
The next day Ban took us out to Angkor for the famous sunrise. In the dark hurtling down the boulevard, we were overtaken by tourist buses, other tuk tuks and private cars making a beeline for perhaps the most popular gig in town. Once at the site we joined a couple of hundred others waiting in the false dawn for the sun to rise over the temple towers.
Unfortunately, with the monsoon still hanging around northern Cambodia, the sun didn't come out from behind the clouds. However, the early start did give Jacq and I a great head start in seeing some of the other temples before the crowds.Our favourite was The Bayon, a couple kays north of Angkor Wat in the giant Angkor Thom complex. Where Angkor Wat was huge and impressive, it was the detail and intracacies of The Bayon that I liked best. Around 200 faces had been carved into the stone walls. I could have also spent hours exlporing the maze of dim corridors, drainage channels and tunnels beneath the structure. A definite highlight.
Visits to the Baphuon and Ta Prohm followed, the latter famous for the tree roots that have grown around the temples and spilled down onto the ground below.In the afternoon, after a sleep back at the guesthouse, we discovered Siem Reap was more than just a dusty gateway to the temples. We walked along the river and watched Cambodian families talk and play on the river banks. A dragon boat team steamed down the river, shouting and the geeing each other up. And no one tried to sell us anything.
Later still ominous storm clouds bunched in the sky. The wind whipped up and fat drops began to pelt down. Jacq and I ran for our lives. We found shelter in the upstairs bar of Le Papier Tigre, where we watched the street below go from dusty dirt to twho feet of water in ten minutes.
Labels: Cambodia
Walls of Angkor Thom
Inside the Bayon
One of the many faces of the Bayon
Tourists at Angkor Wat
Jacq, Angkor Wat
Into the forest
Angkor pillars
The heat, the crowds, the hawkers all fade away when you arrive at this sightLabels: Cambodia
Cambodian border, Poipet
Highway to Siem ReapThe difference between Thailand and Cambodia is chalk and cheese. Cambodia is not third world like Thailand or Bali is. It's real third world, where people live in ramshackle wooden and iron huts on stilts among the rice paddies.
The less fortunate live in simple humpies in the dirt. The damned limp around on crutches, begging for money or food.
Its hard to believe the main highway between Thailand and Siem Reap is just a dirt road. According to the backpack grapevine the Cambodian government has tried several times to build a proper road, but rumours of it disappearing into wealthy pockets and connections with the only airline to fly into Siem Reap abound.
The taxi ride to SR was a fast-food anthropological study of the Khmers and their way of life. Rice paddies stretched into the distance on both sides of the road for almost the entire length of the highway.
Fishermen and their children waded around the flooded fields, fishing with nets and setting traps. Scooters and bicycles were everywhere. The occasional Toyota Camry taxi, with four wheel drive suspension, was rare and only carried tourists like us.
Siem Reap itself is like the Wild West. Enormous international hotels, guesthouses and restaurants are springing up almost daily, yet no one has bothered to build roads, footpaths or other basic amenities. A trip up the road for a meal or to buy water is a hazardous, dusty journey. It feels like one wrong move and the puddles, muddy bogs, scooters or tuk tuk touts will be the end of us.
Khao San Road, BangkokBangkok, Thailand - As a good friend of mine advised me before I left for this trip, most of my time has been spent securing the basics of life: shelter, food and water.
Once that's sorted, its time for sight seeing.
So it was this morning that Jacq and I checked out of the twlight zone at the New Siam and found a room at the Rambuttri Inn, still in Banglamphu. The Rambuttri had two windows, which was a step up from the Siam which had just one window and it looked out onto a wall, casting our room into perpetual darkness.
The food has certainly been a highlight so far. We breakfasted at an expat coffee shop across the road from the UNICEF headquarters and I tucked into fresh croissants and a banana smoothie. We skipped lunch but again found ourselves eating dinner standing on the side of the road. The food vendors sell fresh pad thai for just 20B, less than AUD$1.
The beer has also been fantastic. Icy cold, crisp Singhas, Leos and Beer Changs go for about a dollar a pop. But getting used to their strength has been another thing.
On Khao San Road this afternoon I took advantage of buy two get one free offer for Singha beer. Unfortunately I didn't realise they'd serve all three at once. Jacq had quite an enjoyable arvo watching me sink into drunkeness at our roadside table drinking the 6.5% stubbies.
Labels: Thailand
Donation bowls at the Reclining Buddha, Bangkok.There is, however, plenty of scam artists, touts, tuk tuk drivers, backpackers, thieves and tailors particularly in the area where we are staying in Banglamphu, just down the road from the infamous Khao San Road that Alex Garland made famous, or infamous, in The Beach.
It's a city of six million and it smells like it. A nose curling blend of rotting vegetation, sewage and two stroke exhaust.
Jacq and I have made our way through it all relatively unscathed and unscammed, although I'm sure we will fall victim at some stage.
For a third world country Bangkok sure has its shit tight. A trip to the futuristic shopping precinct the Siam Centre was a relatively easy one. We took a noisy tuk tuk through day time traffic to the centre and after a quick look around we hopped on the efficient and cheap BTS sky train down to the river and a then ferry back up to Banglampu.
Labels: Thailand
ANZAC memorial, Kings Park
Meesha, Globe Cafe, Mount Lawley.
Wildflowers, PerthLabels: Australia
Tree top walk, Walpole
Jacq and I visited them at their new digs in Nornalup, about 50 kays from Denmark on the wild southern edge of WA. They’ve taken over the lease of café in town and are making a pretty good go at it too.It was funny to see a friend who had I gone to school with and was guilty of doing all the immature things we do in our teens and twenties now managing a proper business.
The weather at Nornalup was absolutely wild during our stay. Huge seas and strong winds whipped up enormous swells so surfing was out of the picture. Even standing on the cliff tops to check the beaches was a dangerous exercise as we fought to keep our balance.
The morning after the storm the local ABC radio station reported widespread “livestock damage”, which Brett explained most likely meant sheep had fallen over in the strong winds. With their wool soaked by rain, they are often too heavy to be able to get back on their feet by themselves and the farmers would spend the morning driving around their farms righting fallen sheep.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get any photos of that little exercise.
Labels: Australia
Down South WADunsborough, Western Australia - When I booked the flights for this trip I figured ten days in Perth en route to Asia from Queensland would be plenty. But now I find we're straining to see and do everything in the time we have.
But one thing I have made time for is a cruise through the south west of Western Australia. The region begins just three hours south of Perth but it may as well be another world. It is characterised by endless lines of grape vines, big surf and rolling sclerophyll forest.
We took my mother's Toyota Echo for the trip and managed to pack in a six foot surfboard, two big backpacks, two day packs and a carton of beer into the tiny hatchback.
First stop was Dunsborough where my friend Stap lives with his girlfriend Sarah. They moved down from Perth a couple of years before I left for Queensland as a sort of pre-emptive seachange and haven't looked back.
Stap, who works at the local surf store, was kind enough to organise a full length steamer wetsuit and a Salamon S core surfboard for me for our surf. Unlike normal fibreglass and foam boards the S core is hollow inside and vacuum sealed. It's a lot lighter than a normal surfboard and a lot more expensive too. About a $1000 retail versus $600 for standard board.
I felt like I was the owner of a Porsche or something when we walked into Eagle Bay for a midday surf. The board is emblazoned with stickers and I sense the grommets are expecting big things from me based on my board and wetsuit. But just concentrated on not falling onto the shallow reef and trying to ride the swells smoothly down the point.
But one thing I have made time for is a cruise through the south west of Western Australia. The region begins just three hours south of Perth but it may as well be another world. It is characterised by endless lines of grape vines, big surf and rolling sclerophyll forest.
We took my mother's Toyota Echo for the trip and managed to pack in a six foot surfboard, two big backpacks, two day packs and a carton of beer into the tiny hatchback.
First stop was Dunsborough where my friend Stap lives with his girlfriend Sarah. They moved down from Perth a couple of years before I left for Queensland as a sort of pre-emptive seachange and haven't looked back.
Stap, who works at the local surf store, was kind enough to organise a full length steamer wetsuit and a Salamon S core surfboard for me for our surf. Unlike normal fibreglass and foam boards the S core is hollow inside and vacuum sealed. It's a lot lighter than a normal surfboard and a lot more expensive too. About a $1000 retail versus $600 for standard board.
I felt like I was the owner of a Porsche or something when we walked into Eagle Bay for a midday surf. The board is emblazoned with stickers and I sense the grommets are expecting big things from me based on my board and wetsuit. But just concentrated on not falling onto the shallow reef and trying to ride the swells smoothly down the point.
Fremantle, Western Australia – Mandurah is positively booming. What was once a cute little coastal town is now a mini-metropolis straining at the seams with treeless housing developments and giant shopping centres.Jacq could be forgiven for thinking WA is one big suburb since that’s all she’s seen. To correct that impression quick smart we drive north to the port city of Fremantle, which is connected to the city of Perth by the Swan River.
It’s similar to the historic Rocks district in Sydney with its limestone buildings and old pubs. We squeezed through the Freo markets, burst out onto the cappuccino strip and dodged families and strollers on the footpath before finding refuge in a quiet Han’s Café.
More quiet time followed in the park before we took a quick squiz at Little Creatures Brewery, which my sister insisted we check out. This brew pub on the wharf was jumping with families, hipsters and artists but it’s a bit too busy for us.
We did a lap inside and then settled for an amble past the Roundhouse gaol, a visit to the Adam Monk photo gallery (he converts large format negatives to 1GB digital files, 1GB!) and then on to Mountain Designs so Jacq can buy some carabineers (hooks) to attach her day pack to the front of her backpack when on the move in Asia.
Labels: Australia
Mandurah, Western Australia – Despite weeks and months of making lists and dutifully ticking off tasks to square everything away before we travel, Jacq and I were packing our bags right up until the last minute before we left for the airport.
Flying out of Brisbane, we arrived in Perth, Western Australia, in the early hours of the morning. Most of my family are now living in Mandurah – about an hour out of Perth – so the only glimpse we got of the city is the dusty expanse of the eastern suburbs and broad highways as we travelled south.
Our timing is impeccable. The day after we flew in the West Coast Eagles beat the Sydney Swans in the AFL Grand Final in a nail biter. My grandmother simply refused to watch the last quarter because of the tension.
The Swans failed to top the Eagles at the last moment and WA erupted in the Eagles colours of blue and yellow. For days afterwards I spotted cars with Eagles flags driving past and people doing their grocery shopping in Eagles jerseys.
It’s good to be back in WA after a couple of years away from my family and friends who live here. But seeing seeing my parents again is also tinged with sadness knowing we only have ten days or less together before I fly out for another adventure.
The weather is cooler here. Back on the Gold Coast I was getting around in shorts and a t-shirt during the day. Here it is like the coldest GC winter day and it's October!
Flying out of Brisbane, we arrived in Perth, Western Australia, in the early hours of the morning. Most of my family are now living in Mandurah – about an hour out of Perth – so the only glimpse we got of the city is the dusty expanse of the eastern suburbs and broad highways as we travelled south.
Our timing is impeccable. The day after we flew in the West Coast Eagles beat the Sydney Swans in the AFL Grand Final in a nail biter. My grandmother simply refused to watch the last quarter because of the tension.
The Swans failed to top the Eagles at the last moment and WA erupted in the Eagles colours of blue and yellow. For days afterwards I spotted cars with Eagles flags driving past and people doing their grocery shopping in Eagles jerseys.
It’s good to be back in WA after a couple of years away from my family and friends who live here. But seeing seeing my parents again is also tinged with sadness knowing we only have ten days or less together before I fly out for another adventure.
The weather is cooler here. Back on the Gold Coast I was getting around in shorts and a t-shirt during the day. Here it is like the coldest GC winter day and it's October!
Labels: Australia
