Australia: the journey begins

After yet another one of my beloved midnight red-eye flights, I found myself basking in the blessedly familiar sights and sounds of the Western world: the bustling Sydney Airport, surrounded by throngs of travelers greeting loved ones, securing luggage and hurrying to catch taxis. Having landed in Australia without so much as a place to stay, let alone a specific plan of action, I wandered the airport terminal in a daze until I located a cafe and sat down for a cup of coffee to erase the sleepy fog from my brain. Deciding I couldn't simply stay in the airport for three weeks, and feeling slightly more awake from the jolt of caffeine, I set out to find myself lodging for the night. I located an accommodation board kiosk and, overwhelmed by the amount of choices, dialed the number for the first ad I saw -- The Original Backpackers Hostel in the lovably raffish Kings Cross neighborhood. As luck would have it, they had one bed left in a coed dorm room -- and like most serendipitious events in life, I couldn't have planned it better myself.

I arrived in Room 12 at the 'ungodly' hour of 10am, and the entire room of backpackers was still fast asleep, presumably from a late night out. Clearly I was in the right place. As they awoke from the dead, I met my new roommates: my lower bunkmate Chris, the two Pauls, Dean the Canadian, the wonderfully flamboyant Ben and Becky from the UK, and last but not least an extremely attractive Irish guy -- Mark. After introductions all around and a short deliberation, we decided to head to the shores of Bondi Beach for an afternoon in the sun. The night ended with my introduction to the backpackers favorite Australian drink: Goon, the ever-so-classy (and cheap) boxed wine which I may or may not have purposefully poured in my new Irish friend's lap. -sigh- So much for good impressions.

Day 2 in Sydney took me on an errand expedition with Mark, who
-- apparently in the spirit of forgiveness -- decided to accompany me while I purchased my Greyhound bus ticket for my adventure up the east coast of Australia. Even more surprisingly (given the fact that just the previous night I had doused his new jeans in cheap white wine), we made plans to get together upon my arrival back in Sydney several weeks later.

Next stop: Byron Bay!

Bali pt.II: Candidasa & the Gilis

Having my fill of Balinese culture and even more so of gloomy rain, I figured it was time to treat myself to a few days of the superb snorkeling and white sand beaches that Bali is famous for. Waving goodbye to the monkeys, I hailed a sharp-looking silver taxi and made my way out of Ubud to the coastal town of Candidasa, where I arrived with a giant sigh of relief at the Amarta Beach Bungalows, a collection of simple yet cozy bungalows overlooking the sparkling Indian Ocean. The bungalows each came equipped with a porch for relaxing, more electrical outlets than you could ever want to charge any appliance you might ever have (more important than you'd think), and most impressively an inside/outside toilet and shower (it's the little things in life). I spent a blissfully relaxing and inactive two days in Candidasa, snorkeling in the bright blue water in the afternoon and enjoying a good book over a leisurely dinner in the evenings. On my second night I got to chatting with a trio of Australian guys about my plans for the remainder of my stay in Bali, and before I knew it I had not one but three escorts to the much-touted Gili Islands the following day.

On day ... well honestly I'm losing track of the days here ... we made an early morning departure from Padangbai to the serene and visually stunning Gili Air Island. Contrary to the popular saying that life is all about the journey and not the destination, travel in Asia is generally something to be tolerated (with varying degrees of patience) until you reach your destination. Our trip to the Gili Islands, three idyllic white-sand islands off the northwest coast of Lombok, was no different. Our exhausting journey encompassed a stuffy and nauseating 7hr boat ride on a public ferry, a bumpy 2hr van ride, a 1hr mini-bus ride, and finally a blessedly short motor boat ride to the island. Once there, all was forgotten as we enjoyed a front row view of the brilliant sunset that sent streaks of pink, purple and orange across the darkening evening sky.

Life on the Gilis is a tranquil suspended moment in time, where one can escape the annoyances of the outside world -- you won't even find fresh running water in the shower, let alone cell phone reception. We stayed in a bare-bones cottage across from the beach, outfitted with mosquito-netted beds, a fan, and a hammock. I found out the hard way that the shower water was actually cold and very salty, but when you're lounging on an exquisitely beautiful tropical island, showering from a bottle of drinking water seems like a small sacrifice to make. On day 2, after a complimentary breakfast of fresh papaya and banana pancakes, our Guest House host took us out in his glass-bottom boat for a day of snorkeling. We visited four of the best diving sites in the Gilis, each one better than the next -- electric blue water teeming with scores of fish in vivid rainbow hues, giant sea turtles, and heaps of colorful coral. Day 3 was spent lazing on the bright white-sand beach, swimming in the warm crystal blue water, and ordering iced chocolates from the beach-side bar.

My stay on Gili Air came to an end far too quickly, but I'm craving a proper fresh-water shower, and Australia awaits! I'm onto my next adventure, with visions of bright blue water, white sand and colorful fish dancing in my head.

Candidasa:

Gili Islands:

Bali pt.I: Ubud

As I seem to be a glutton for punishment, I booked myself on a red-eye flight from Bangkok to Denpasar, ensuring that I would arrive in Bali sufficiently tired and worn-looking. I slept for most of the flight, waking only a handful of times -- once when the plane hit a pretty good patch of turbulence and I thought for sure I was going to die, and once when they passed out the in-flight meal. Yes, they still have those on some airlines. And the food was *gasp* decent!

I arrived in Bali a bit disoriented and in a zombie-like state of exhaustion, paid an exorbitant taxi fee at the curb and drove straight to Ubud, bypassing the Kuta and Legian beach party scene. A good 45 minute taxi ride from Denpasar, Ubud is the thriving cultural center of Balinese art and religion, with a temple or museum on nearly every corner, and more art galleries than you can shake a stick at. The drive to Ubud wound along narrow twisting streets through bottle-green rice paddies and lush jungle palms, a scenic drive which I almost missed out on as my eyes refused to stay open for long. I made my way to Sania's Guest House, a step up from the usual backpacker digs but still pleasantly affordable, and promptly fell into bed for such much-need shut eye.

My short stay in Ubud was packed with sightseeing and as many activities as I could possibly fit in. I spent the morning on my second day meandering through Pasar Seni, the two-story market which carries an overabundance of sarongs, Balinese art and kitschy souvenirs. My afternoon was spent wandering through the Monkey Forest, a sanctuary for the playful long-tailed macaques of Bali -- beware if you're carrying food, they'll climb right into your bag if they smell bananas -- and in the evening I joined some fellow travelers from my guest house for dinner and traditional Balinese Firedancing show. Day three took me to the Elephant Sanctuary, where I had the opportunity to help feed the 20-something rescued Sumatran elephants housed there, followed by an afternoon of museum and gallery-touring along Monkey Forest Road.

After an action-packed three days in Ubud, I was ready for stop number two on the Bali itinerary: the coastal town of Candidasa.

Thailand: the dirty south

The remainder of my stay on the SE Asia mainland was spent in beautiful, crazy southern Thailand, specifically on the Koh Samui and Koh Pha-Ngan islands (birthplace of the infamous Full Moon Party) and in the quiet oasis of Rawai and Nai Harn Beach, just south of Phuket.

The islands were a wonderful mix of tropical beauty and wild late nights, and the Full Moon Party was something that simply needs to be experienced in order to be understood. I met up with two friends from Chiang Mai on Koh Pha-Ngan, and we spent several "cozy" nights in a basic one-bed beachside bungalow (three girls + one bed = no sleep). My hazy memories from the Full Moon Party include dancing on the platorm and nearly peeing my pants laughing when the girl next to me fell off, waking up with "For sale 10 baht" written on my arm in glow-in-the-dark paint, and banana-nutella crepes at 4am. I'm convinced there is nothing better than a banana-nutella crepe in the world, anywhere. At least at 4am.

From the islands I made my way to Phuket and the peaceful beaches of Rawai and Nai Harn, where I stayed with a family friend, Gary, who generously let me stay rent-free in his beautiful guest house, just a short bike-ride from the stunningly beautiful (and thankfully uncrowded) white sand beaches at Nai Harn. As luck would have it, my step-cousin Moses happened to be traveling through Thailand at the same time, so Gary had a full house and I had a beach partner! I spent my days here in luxurious peace and quiet, lazing on the beach and drinking fresh juice straight from the coconut during the day and gorging myself on fresh Thai seafood at night.

Next up? More beaches! Bali, here I come.

Koh Phangan:

Nai Harn:

Kids, Don't Try This At Home

aka: How I Got From Siem Reap (Cambodia) to Koh Pha-Ngan (Thailand) in 24 Hours


5:30am - Awoke in my Siem Reap hotel room to my pesky alarm clock, finished packing my bag and decided that trying to fit all one's belongings into a backpack the same way as the day before is a detestable if not impossible task.

7:30am - Caught the 6 hour bus ride back to Phnom Penh, decided that Cambodian television programs must be among the most bizarre in the world and cursed the iPod manufacturers for not inventing a self-recharging battery.

2:00pm - Stepped off the bus in Phnom Penh into a mob scene of travelers and taxi drivers, hailed a cab within 5 minutes and drove 30 minutes to the airport. Have never been so relieved to wait in a security check line before.

4:30pm - Boarded my flight from Phnom Penh to Bangkok, realized that "budget airlines" means "no drink service" and wondered if it's really worth the savings because sometimes you just really want a diet coke dammit.

6:30pm - Disembarked the plane into the now-familiar Bangkok airport, joined forces with two British girls making the same ambitious journey. Treated myself to a Starbucks because sometimes you just want a soy latte dammit.

7:30pm - Acquired our baggage and hailed a cab to take us across town to Hualampong (train station) in Bangkok rush-hour traffic, an experience of epic proportions. Seriously, epic.

8:15pm - Discovered that the overnight train was sold out. Stood looking around helplessly until, after trying to convey my predicament in broken English to a train station employee, I was dragged by the hand to an upstairs office where they sold me the last ticket on the overnight express bus to Suratthani and an accompanying ferry ticket to the island. Was so relieved I almost reached across the table to hug the woman helping me. Thought better of it.

9:00pm - Boarded the psychadellic-ly decorated Rainbow Express bus, was surprised that there was no disco ball hanging from the ceiling. Fell into a travel-weary yet unfulfilling sleep, tried to avoid drooling on my neighbor's shoulder.

6:30am - Arrived Suratthani, emerged stiff and bleary-eyed from the bus and stood around with the other passengers in a very fishy-smelling dockside waiting area. Could probably have fallen asleep standing up.

7:00am - Boarded the express ferry for an ill-fated 2+ hour crossing to Koh Pha-Ngan, story to be described in detail below:

The wind was picking up and the rain starting to fall as we boarded the ferry for our two-hour boat ride to the Koh Samui/Koh Tau/Koh Pha-Ngan islands. The sky had turned an ominiously dark gray and the rain pelted the windows as I looked around for an empty seat amongst all the passengers and pile of backpacks. As soon as we left the protection of the harbor, the wind whipped and churned the waves into giant frothy swells, and the boat began to pitch and heave. The horizon tipped wildly from side to side, tilting the boat like a Disney Land ride and sending people running for the bathroom. Most couldn't make it, and had to use the barf bags provided by the seemingly-unaffected crew. The two girls on either side of me took turns bringing up their breakfasts, and if I'd had any myself it would have come right up as well. I spent the entirety of the nauseating journey trying my best to keep the contents of my stomach (tea and stomach acid) where they were.

9:30am - Arrived nauseous, perspiring and white as a sheet at the Thong Sala pier in Koh Pha-Ngan, and I've never been more relieved to step foot on dry land.


and voila! Cambodia to southern Thailand in 24 hours.

Cambodia pt.II: the Majesty of Angkor Wat

Days 3-6 in Cambodia brought me to Siem Reap, the up-and-coming town which serves as the gateway to the 8th Wonder of the World -- Angkor Wat. Siem Reap is so up-and-coming in fact that it nearly stumbles over itself in an effort to erect five-star hotels with swimming pools and swanky eateries to serve the waves of tourists flooding in from all corners of the world. And with this rapid expansion comes the unavoidable evils of tourism ... massive crowds, and a bit gentrification thrown in for good measure. Translation: you're bound to wind up with at least a half dozen German tourists with oversized fanny packs in every one of your photos. Still, even the western-centric centre of town offers a bit of charm, with its tree-lined streets and inviting pubs and cafes.

As seems to be the norm here, we emerged from the bus into a frenzy of shouting, shoving tuk-tuk and taxi drivers. There was plenty of pushing and jostling, and the noise of the crowd reached a fevered pitch as I struggled to keep sight of my bag as it was handed from porter to porter. I finally caught up with my bag and headed straight for the City River Hotel, a three-nights-paid gift from mom and dad. A real hotel, with a proper reception desk. And a pool. And free internet! It was like Christmas in November in SE Asia. I made friends with two girls from Tazmania within two minutes of walking through the door (surprising, given how badly I must have smelled) and after a shower we decided to sample some authentic Khmer cuisine. One pretty greasy and bland plate of food later, I've decided I'm not a fan. Bedtime was rediculously early, because when you've got access to a pillowy down comforter after endless nights of dodgy hostel accomodation, you're not likely to let it go to waste.


My remaining days in Cambodia were a temple-touring, sightseeing extravaganza. Tour Day 1 took me to Angkor Thom -- the main compound of Angkor -- to see the magnificent Bayon temple, a massive 11th century ruin famous for the 216 giant faces of Avalokiteshvara hand-carved from stone. I had to shield my camera from yet another water encounter as it began to drizzle while I made my way over to Baphuon, rightfully deemed the 'world's largest jigsaw puzzle' as the temple is being put back together piece by piece in a painstaking restoration project. I walked along the Terrace of Elephants and snapped some photos before driving with my tour guide to Ta Keo, a massive pyramid-shaped wat that was never actually completed due to being struck by lightning, a bad omen in Khmer culture. We ended Tour Day 1 at the superstar of temples -- Angkor Wat. Soaring skywards and surrounded by a giant moat, Angkor Wat is a magnificent and stunning structure, one of the most spectacular monuments ever created by human hands. It is the largest religious bulding in the world, built in the 1100's by King Suryavarman II in honor of the Hindu deity Vishnu.

Tour Day 2 began with a second trip back to Angkor Wat at 5am to watch the sunrise over this stunning ancient monument, a breathtaking sight. After a short breakfast stop we drove 30km out of the city to Banteay Srei, a small but elaborately adorned temple, and stopped at the Cambodian Landmine Museum on our way back to one of the most popular of Angkor's temples -- Ta Prohm, aka the Indiana Jones Temple. The crumbling stonework of Ta Prohm has been reclaimed by nature, with the tentacle-like roots of trees snaking down the sides and through the doorways of the temple. Sufficiently temple'd out by the end of the day, I ended my Angkor Wat touring with a luxurious dip in the hotel pool.

Cambodia pt.I: Culture, Chaos, Khmer Rouge

Firstly, let me just apologize for the discrepancy between the post-date of these blogs and the dates I was actually in those locations. I wish I were giving you real-time updates, but sadly I am just too darn busy. I'll do my best to play catch-up here ...


Cambodia was a dizzying experience, an accost to all five senses. It was a supremely exciting, overwhelming, exhausting and moving experience -- and coming from the laid-back culture of Laos, a bigger culture shock than any I've experienced in SE Asia. A real knock-you-on-your-ass experience if you're at all sensitive to the chaotic noise and haggling and harassment of a tourist-dollar-driven economy.

Days one and two in Cambodia took me on a whirlwind tour of Phnom Penh, where the traffic alone is enough to make your head spin. Grabbing a probably-overpriced cab at the airport, I made my way to OKAY Guest House, a serious backpacker hub near the royal palace. Thankfully the place was more than ok, especially the prices ... a double room for $7, dinner of red curry and rice and a fresh banana shake for $3.50, internet for 75 cents/hour ... you can't beat that.

My sightseeing took me first to the Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng, or S-21. It was a haunting and sobering, if not entirely surreal, experience. Nearly 3 million Cambodians were exterminated by the Khmer Rouge regime under Pol Pot in the late 1970's, and the remnants of this atrocity still exist in the haunting photographs of torture victims at S-21 and the collection of human remains at the Killing Fields. It was a heartwrenching tour at both locations, something akin to visiting Auschwitz I would imagine, and the end of the day left me feeling physically and emotionally drained. Sightseeing on Day 2 was far milder, with a leisurely tour around the Royal Palace grounds and a trip to the National Museum, with frequent stops at the odd cafe or juice bar for some relief from the oppressive heat.

Moral of the story? Not entirely sure what to make of Cambodia and the people here. It is loud, frenetic and exhausting ... nowhere are tourists more like giant walking ATM's than they are in Cambodia (with the exception, I've heard, of Vietnam). The hustling is relentless, as are the pleas of crowds of children trying to sell you everything from pineapple to postcards to bracelets. And yet Cambodia's history is a rich tapestry of Buddhist/Hindu culture and powerful empires, and Cambodians themselves are an extremely resilient people, who are each able to speak an impressive three or four languages.