TravelStream™ news feed for member lisa-ashley on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/lisa-ashley en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Wed, 08 Aug 2007 16:21:12 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1163403540/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1163403540/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1163403540/tpod.html Wed, 08 Aug 2007 16:21:12 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Chiang Mai, Thailand

Loy Kratong is both a pleasant and perturbing mixture of the Jewish festival of lights, Hanukkah, and America's Independence Day, the 4th of July - but on steroids. The three day festival comes during the 12th lunar month on the full moon, to commemorate the end of the rainy season and the beginning of the rice harvest. Its origins date back to Brahmin, in which Hindu people would give thanks to the goddess of water. In Thailand, the festival dates back about 700 years ago to the Sukhothai period. The farmers of Sukhothai used to hold a festival of floating candles until one year, a beautiful woman named Noppamas, a chief royal consort, made a Krathong - a special floating lantern for the festival. She made it from banana leaves and shaped them like lotus flowers and added flowers, candles and three incense sticks. The king was so impressed by what had materialized that he announced that every year to follow the krathongs would be floated on the water.The festival includes fire works, flying lanterns,floating krathongs, and beauty pageants. When I first learned of the festival I though of how much my pyromaniac brother Gary would love it - a festival filled with fire and beautiful Asian women.Loy Kratong is celebrated today in three ways. The first is with the Krathong's, first made by Noppamas. These boat like vessles are intricately designed and beautifully decorated. Braided banana leaves shaped like a lotus flowers and adorned with colorful flowers,lit candels, incense and often coins - seen bobbing up and down in rivers, canals and lakes. It is said that the Krathong's carry away your sins and wash away your bad luck and as your suffering floats downstream your new year will be filled with joy and good luck. The second way to celebrate is with Kom Loy, or fire balloons. Made of thin paper, wire, and toilet paper dipped in wax, these balloons float through the sky creating their own concellations among the stars. Each balloon is filled with your wishes and as the fire inside creates enough heat the Kom Loy floats upward, carrying with it your wishes to the stars. It is a remarkably free feeling to make a wish and watch it fly through the sky on a clear night - concentrating on your kom Loy, mixing with hundreds of others. Another important aspect of Loy Krathong is the "Noppamas Queen Contest" or beauty pageant as we know it. Which helps to create a more beautiful atmosphere to a festival filled with natural beauty and all four earth elements. The mahabhuta ("great elements") or catudhatu ("four elements") are earth, water, fire and air. In early Buddhism, the Four Elements were a basis for understanding suffering and for liberating oneself from suffering.The only downfall of Loy Krathong is the fireworks. I'm not talking about beautiful firework displays choreographed to music, with grand finales - I'm talking loud, obnoxious, fireworks at all hours, for days on end. With no regard to the fact that they can take off your hand, or foot (I almost lost mine).I have not seen so many fireworks since my brothers and I would smuggle them back home across the Tijuana, Mexico border. ____________________________________________________________ _____________________________ In other news: Take a read of my latest PNN co-produced articles: "The Can Do Bar, Turning Tricks into Fair Trade" as published in City Life Magazine in Chiang Mai Click Hereand "Touched By the Keren" as published in TravelMag in the UK Click Here
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1178598780/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1178598780/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1178598780/tpod.html Tue, 08 May 2007 00:42:49 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Too good to Mention, Malaysia

It hurts...It hurts so bad...I can't decide if it is the fact that I am coming home that hurts, or if it is the tight, leathery feel my skin has taken on after one week in PURE PARADISE. I know I have claimed to have found various paradises in the last year of gallivanting around SE Asia, but I swear I have found it this time. Leave it to me to find a place where the locals wear t-shirts that read "Do not tell anyone about P.P." I love this place so much, that I will not even disclose the name of the Island off the eastern coast of Malaysia on the internet, for hopes that it will remain untouched, ecologically friendly, and incredibly beautiful. The sea surrounding this small island resembles a watercolor painting bleeding blue topaz into an aquamarine into a teal. Colorful fish fill the waters ranging from bright orange Nemo look a-likes, to blue striped sting rays. The most impressive fish I saw through was not really a fish, but some black tipped sharks. Ok, wait one minute you are thinking, sharks, as if Lisa has not pressed her luck and adventure to the limit enough in the past year!!! But yes friends, Sharks. I am now the proud owner of an ego big enough to boast that I have swum in the sea with black tipped sharks. Look fear in the eye was the way to overcome this phobia, just as my fear of heights was nixed by a jump off a platform with a giant rubber band tied around my ankles 9 years ago. With visibility near to perfect, I spent a day wandering around the ocean floor with fanned out live coral reefs, clams, and sharks! On shore, the soft, white sand was the perfect place to lie out and soak up the sun with a fresh fruit shake in one hand and a cheesy, girly, novel in the other. The accommodations were bungalows a mere meter or two from the shore backed up into the lush jungle, with nightly generated electricity for a few hours, cold shared showers, squat toilets, and no air conditioning. For some people such scamp accommodations would not be considered paradise, but for this champagne backpacker, it was champagne wishes and a backpacker's dream. I shared this almost last leg of my serious case of wanderlust with 3 British girls, 2 British blokes, and 1 American man with whom I traveled for almost two weeks (I'm trying to slowly reintegrate myself back into America...why?!?!) Malaysia was a great destination where I drank tea in the highlands and soaked up the sun on the islands, but I had to give in and go home sooner or later, money is running low, so I made my way from the east coast to the west coast of Malaysia via night bus, which turned into a night safari when a family of wild elephants crossed our path around 2:00 a.m. and we stopped to watch the family of 4. "Incredible!" - A word I have been using with much frequency since I landed in Malaysia two and a half weeks ago.  Back in Thailand, the hospitality is once again top notch (unlike Malaysia where accommodation is best described as higher prices with lower standards.) I was served a cup of green tea when I sat down at the internet café and offered an extra "special" massage in an unmentionable region of my body at what I thought was a respectable masseuse, though clearly it was not. So, as I aloe up my tan in hopes it will hold out on my 15 hour flight home, I get in some last minute shopping (oh so much to buy and so little time) I gear up for some serious culture shock when I arrive at LAX to be greeted by my two best girlfriends and an In N Out burger. Look out LA, here I come - but please be nice - I'm practically Asian now.  And, in typical LA fashion...stayed tuned for the season finale of  "From World Partners to Wanderlust Associate" as Lisa the Prada Hippie ventures from Asia to Los Angeles, recounting her year in the wonderful world of wanderlust.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177844400/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177844400/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177844400/tpod.html Sun, 29 Apr 2007 21:21:54 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Cameron Highlands, Malaysia

<i>Tea plantations wrap around rolling hills and look&nbsp;like well fitting curdouroy pants worn on christmas day. Rows of lime green tea buds straddle evergreen underbrush, with streams of water running&nbsp;throughout. Bangladeshi workers brave the steep inclines&nbsp;picking the finest tea Malaysia has to offer. Clouds glide atop mountains like white feathers flying&nbsp;in the wind, rising from the valleys of the tea plantations, to the linen white sky saurated with moisture.&nbsp;<i>The Cameron Highlands are incredible. Being a tea drinker and an adamant hiker,&nbsp;I have stumbeled upon my mountain paradise. The climate is cool and damp. The air here takes upon the pure fragrance of the essence of nature: sometimes sweet, sometimes musty - flowers, tea, the smell of fresh falling rain, and honeybees -&nbsp; if I could bottle up the pleasant mixture of aromas that surround&nbsp;these highlands, I would put the top selling purfumery out of business. &nbsp;<i>Like wine lovers go to the wine country, tea lovers come to the Cameron Highlands.&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>I met Nuria, Joan, and Jordi at the Father's Guesthouse, perched on a mountain top overlooking the town of Tanah Rata, where the vibe among the guests reminds me of my days at summer camp.&nbsp;The&nbsp;Barcelona trio and I have spent the past 4 days hiking, drinking tea, eatting Indian food, and speaking Spanish.&nbsp;<i>We set out in the mist of the early morning fog&nbsp;for a hike along trail #10. The moss covered forest drew us in with its brilliant array of greens and super&nbsp;spongy soil, the kind which you walk upon and it feels like your feet are sinking downward&nbsp;then springing upward&nbsp;with each step. Trees are so saturated with&nbsp;precipitation that even the bamboo is mushy. Our jaunt in the forest was to last 1.5 hours, which turned into 5, but we insist that we were not lost, merely wandering on an adventure (an exmaple of my serious case of wanderlust). We took a path that&nbsp;made us emerge from the forest&nbsp;into an indigenous mountain village with small, wooden houses. Probably the type of village where they sacrafice white girls&nbsp;to their gods, but it was not as such, and we found the people of the&nbsp;Orang Asli village to be welcoming.&nbsp;<i>After the hike, Indian naan bread and tandori chicken never tasted so good. The following day we spent time at the Sungei Palas, a BOH tea plantation. We tasted a variety of teas included their golden colored&nbsp;premium blend, their strong, dark southern blend, and another mix which hosted flavors of chocolate, mint and tea, slightly resembling a junior mint candy in&nbsp;liquid form. From our view atop the plantation we watched the workers pick ready leaves and the clouds sway from one peak to the next, until finally the sun emerged and a beautiful blue sky appeared.&nbsp;<i>The following day we set out early in the morning, with one new addition, a nice Jewish boy named Josh. We started on trail #5 and "hiked" our way up to the summit of the mountain. Now, I say "hike" but what I really mean is "jungle climb" - defined as&nbsp;a steep, slippery, misty, mossy, jungle incline&nbsp;where you are on all fours climbing up the mountain, using vines for help. Incredible! Once we made it to the top we celebrated over water and bananas - cause this day we brought food and water with us, unlike the previous day's jaunt through the jungle.&nbsp;<i>On the way down, Josh and I took a different trail to see Robinson Falls and were caught in the rain. Thankfully I had brought my ultra light weight North Face raincoat that I paid a fortune for, which I was promised would keep me dry - but now I think I will write the Prada of outdoor gear&nbsp;a letter and tell them otherwise. Safe to say we were soaked to the bone and I still have not recovered from the cold. Thankfully a nice&nbsp;Swiss man game me some dry clothes to wear since all mine are being laundered&nbsp;amd "I don't do my own laundry," and I have bought a pair of socks in town to keep my feet dry and warm.&nbsp;<i>So, as I cuddle up in the cold mist of my mountaintop&nbsp;guesthouse, wrapped in my silk sleepingbag attempting to&nbsp;be warm, I have memories of my college years in rainy Oregon. Cameron Highlands makes me want to stay on forever, but being wet right now is only something I want to experience on a white sandy beach. So, as my journey nears an end, I will leave this mountain paradise for some beach bliss. I can harldy believe that this case of wanderlust is now less than a double digits worth of days. Next stop, the Perhenthian Islands, off the north eastern coast of Malaysia.&nbsp;&nbsp;
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177506480/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177506480/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177506480/tpod.html Wed, 25 Apr 2007 09:22:58 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

There is one concept I cannot fully grasp about men, moles, and facial hair in South East Asia. For some reason, men find it attractive to let their long, stringy, black hairs grow out of the moles on their faces.&nbsp;By the time I left Vietnam, I was ready. In all seriousness, the Vietnamese are the loudest Asian's ever.I&nbsp;must say through the real stinger of my trip in Vietnam was my night train crossing over the 17th Parrallel. I paid&nbsp;extra to have a sleeper (soft) with 4 people. But, what I got instead was stuck with 5 Vietnamese men in one cabin for 15 hours, who&nbsp;spoke NO English and a bed that was as hard as cement. Oh, and I&nbsp;should mention that they all smoked cigarettes religiously and starred at me for hours on end.&nbsp;I met up with some great people on the last leg of my trip in Hanoi&nbsp;and on my last night, myself and two super cool Canadian girls checked into a 4-star hotel and treated ourselves to haircuts, Vietnamese style. For six dollars, I got a wash, cut, and dry, and the hair dressers had a field day with their 4 - yes, count them 4- straightening irons on my head of curls at once. While I am happy with my cut, one of the girls walked away with an Vietnamese mullet - which is just too funny, but she was seriously a good sport about it! And, trying to rid my wallet of dong myself and a mid-aged Californian women on a Buddhist pilgrimage with Thich Nhnat Hanh, spent the afternoon at a spa getting facials before I took off for Malaysia.I should also mention my super touristy&nbsp;trip to Halong Bay. There, I mentioned it. That's it, it's a bay with some cliffs and caves, and a whole lot of tourists and pearl hawkers with lighters.It was about 1 a.m. that morning when I cleared customs at the Kuala Lumpur airport in Malaysia. When I boarded the flight I had a weird feeling as I kissed my fingers and touched the airplane upon entry (a habit I've always had to ensure a safe journey.) Take off was a breeze until my airplane starting dramatically dropping in altitude at a rapid rate and being flung all over the place in turbulence. This was not fun and the Chilean man who was sitting next to me was crossing his heart and praying to Mary. I looked out the window and there we were, smack in the middle of a lightning storm - bolts of lighting lighting up the sky and here we are a giant metal bird flying in the middle. I seriously thought it was the end of me. But, clearly it wasn't and I landed in the middle of a great cultural mix of a metropolis. Muslim, Chinese, Indian, and Malay all rolled into one and one too many McDonald's.&nbsp;I was thankful to meet a nice Chinese Malaysian after being dropped off in Chinatown alone at 2 a.m. He was nice enough to walk me through the dark alleys to my hotel. I know how to pick the people I ask for help and directions - call it a savvy travelers knack for kind, knowledgeable helpers.&nbsp;My hostel, which I booked online is disgusting. K.L. is known for being the worst place in SE Asia for budget&nbsp; backpackers and with reason. The entry was in covered in terrible tag and my room smells like the Hari Krishna came through and left behind the stale smell of incense and cigarette smoke. Well, I must admit that I am paying the most I've paid yet for accommodation for the worst accommodation I've yet to stay in.&nbsp;But, K.L. is pretty cool and what would any white Jewish girl do who is alone in a predominately Muslim country? Go to the mall! I found my way to the shopping mecca of Malaysia and spent the afternoon climbing the tallest twin&nbsp;towers in the world, seeing a movie, and eating at California Pizza Kitchen (you have no idea my excitement at eating a BBQ Chicken chopped salad.)&nbsp;And, in other news, I should plug AJWS and my work with PNN at some point. I am very happy to announce that after spending 8 months at PNN helping them to identify international donors, that PNN is now $30,000 richer due to me! PNN was awarded a grant by the Open Society Institute. It just made my day all the more better, knowing that I am about to come home having left behind something for PNN and having had a VERY successful fellowship in Thailand.&nbsp;I am now off to drink tea in the Cameron Highlands and for those of you who know me, you know I am a tea fanatic, so I am thrilled to crawl through yet another jungle in Asia, just to pick some tea and drink it fresh!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177062180/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177062180/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1177062180/tpod.html Fri, 20 Apr 2007 06:16:53 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Ho Chi Minh Trail - Central Highlands Vietnam, Vietnam

Vietnam is in full force a Communist Country. As I write this the Vietnam Voice is blaring through the streets it's propaganda, but in this small town it has little to do with the upcoming Presidential election and more to do with how to safely handle your chickens due to the presence of bird flu.&nbsp;Hammer and Sickle signs line the streets that read " Vietnam is forever, Communism is forever." Ho Chi Minh's (or Uncle Ho, as he's referred to by the population) face is on each and every note of currency. &nbsp;I have put my adventure hat on and taken it to the limit this past week ( I know what you are thinking, how can she get more adventurous than climbing through the Cambodian jungle?) But, fret not dear friends and family,&nbsp;I am now among on the first and few tourists to ever&nbsp;travel along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. &nbsp;Allow me to introduce my latest travel partner. His name is Thai and he is a 53 year old former vegetable farmer from Dalat , Vietnam and he is part of a motorcycle gang affectionately named after a former US flick, "Easy Riders." You can hire Easy Riders to take you through their beloved country on the back of their motorbikes on tailor made trips. And, while Thai was an expensive travel partner (double my daily budget) I knew from the moment that I met him he was going to show me a Vietnam that most tourists never see. The type of Vietnam you can only see with government issued permits.My adventures with Thai took me through remote mountain villages where the women and children were so surprised to see a white person that they were often touching my face and hair in wonderment. I would walk into a village market, a lone white woman, and soon be surrounded by the entire&nbsp;village staring at me like I was some rare species in a zoo. Amazing to be standing there looking at them in awe, as they look back at you in awe. &nbsp; We visited rice paddies, pepper and cashew farms, brick makers, pineapple growers, flower vendors, minority villages, and more. Stopping at local markets and villages where people were handing me odd fruits and foods to try - waiting by anxiously to see how my face would react to such foreign foods, laughing with the red teeth died from chewing betel nut for years on end. I walked through a 'city' one day and said hi to a group of men having beers and before I knew it, I was sitting down with them drinking Bia Hoi (fresh beer, bad taste, dirt cheap) and attempting to communicate with them in what little Vietnamese I knew. Turns out, the way I said 'hi' to them actually meant ' I am hungry&nbsp;for rice soup.' It's that uppity, valley girl voice I can't get rid of.I came across one village where the medicine man (the most revered man in a village) came out to greet me with a toothless smile and invited me back to his high house ( a traditional hut with a high thatched roof) where he performed for me traditional music used during rituals in his village. He even let me make a sorry attempt at playing the bamboo, wind instrument. His grandson strummed the drum laughing at me the whole time. The villagers stopped peeling corn to come and watch me play their traditional music, while the kids danced around and sang loudly "hi, hi, hi!"Not only was this an adventure through remote villages and outstanding countryside, completely untouched and undeveloped, it was also an incredible history tour. Stopping at battle grounds, seeing mountains tainted with agent orange, climbing through gaping holes next to old bridges where napalm bombs had struck during the 'American War." &nbsp; &nbsp; Each night we stopped in remote places and enjoyed Vietnamese food and beers over conversations ranging anywhere from what it was like to be a student during the many years of war to how he sneaks into his wife's sleeping quarters at night when his children are asleep, "and only the mosquitoes see, but they do not talk, so it is ok," he says. &nbsp;Zooming through the jungle with flowing rivers and waterfalls, alongside an extraordinary amount of yellow butterflies, I thought to myself, this is amazing. Since tourism is relatively new to Vietnam (they do not even have direct flights from the USA to Vietnam) people are amazed to see you off the beaten track. I was tired of seeing the same faces, in the same places and was trying to avoid running into James the horny Brit, so teaming up with Thai&nbsp;the Easy Rider was the perfect way to experience Vietnam first hand.&nbsp;&nbsp;Language lessons at gas stations over green tea. Stupidly sweet sugar cane juice next to old military vehicles left rusting in the street. Spending the night in the forest sharing my room with geckos and singing cicadas. Whizzing through the Truong Son Mountain range and putting one foot in Laos, one in Vietnam and a hand on Cambodia - call it Indochina Junction Twister. In the end, Thai was my Vietnamese dad, making sure I had enough "elephant ears" and "Vietnamese pizza" to eat&nbsp;along with a sufficient amount of beers, coffee,&nbsp;and cigarettes to keep up with him.&nbsp;Now, after 5 days on the back of a motorbike, I've settled into a riverside colonial town, Hoi An, filled with white people and tailor shops (i'm pretty sure there is 1 tailor shop for every local in the city.) I have a cold, I feel like shit, and I have to dash out to pick up all the clothes and shoes I've had made while here, I hope the post is reliable, cause my backpack already vomits every time I open it. &nbsp; My next stop will take me over the 17th parallel to the North to visit Halong Bay before flying out to Malaysia via Hanoi.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1175914320/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1175914320/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1175914320/tpod.html Thu, 12 Apr 2007 23:18:54 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Kampot, Kep and Koh Tonsai, Cambodia

I've surfaced into&nbsp; civilization, if that is what you can call Phnom Penh.The past two weeks have taken me on a&nbsp;tour of Disneyland like adventure movies, from&nbsp;Indiana Jones to the&nbsp;Swiss Family&nbsp;Robinson and I am now pretty sure I would be a tough contender to beat on&nbsp;Fear Factor&nbsp;or a strong additional castmate to the Lost series on television.I strategically placed myself in the coastal town of Sihanouk Ville for 13 days, not doing much else than enjoying the beautiful beaches and the good company. While Monica left for Vietnam after 7 days, I stayed behind with our two new friends Joost, from Amsterdam and Sebastien from Quebec. Joost reminds me a lot of my brother Gary - slightly pessimistic with a crass sense of&nbsp; humor, and creative&nbsp;with good looks to boot. Sebastien was lost at sea&nbsp;for years working on a ship and is a firm believer that Quebec should be a seperate entity from Canada. With my two boys in tow we headed east to Otres beach, where we had a beach more or less to ourselves&nbsp;void the fruit vendors and armless beggars of its neighbors Serendipity and Occhuetal Beaches.After sunning ourselves silly (I have a great tan) we opted for the teeming Cambodian jungle, needing a break from the daily routine of wake up, go to the beach to sleep, party until 4 a.m. So, off we were in an 80's Toyota Camary (I think this is the only car the Cambodians actually have,&nbsp;it is as if Cambodia is the heaven for all the old,&nbsp;used, sometimes working, Toyota Camary's of the world) to Kampot.Renting bikes and riding into the surrounding villages was a treat until we went to have massages by the blind after an afternoon of playing pool and beers. The next day we were up at the crack for a more than memorable ride into the jungle in the back of a pick up truck. For 2 hours,&nbsp; we climbed Bokor Hill, bouncing up and down&nbsp;as if we were on a&nbsp;pogo stick, dodging tree branches and enjoying the sites of this unpaved, narrow, jungle covered road.At the top we visited Bokor Hill Station with its buildings&nbsp;covered in a remarkable rust orange moss which creates a more perfect set for the movie The Shining. Spooky, to say the least, as you walk through what was once&nbsp;the last&nbsp;Khmer stronghold in the early 80's after being overthrown by the Vietnamese in 1979. This eery,&nbsp;ghostlike feeling shoots chills up your spine&nbsp;as the wind&nbsp;howls through the buildings and grey clouds roll&nbsp;in. Standing on a ledge, our guide tells us that during the Pol Pot regime (1975-1979) people were brought up here, to where&nbsp; we were standing, blindfolded, and thrown off the ledge into the jungle below.&nbsp; Isn't that a nice thought, and as we turn around he warns us to be on the lookout for snakes, bears,&nbsp;and tigers.While we sighted no snakes that day, it was not until the next afternoon when Sebastien and I&nbsp; took off for a charted island which should be uncharted and was most likely only inhabitated about 1 month ago, or so it seems. No running water, no electricity, no anything to be&nbsp;honest other&nbsp;than a simple sugar palm leaf bungalow and a hole in the ground as a bathroom. Koh Tonsai island is about 30 minutes off the coast of Kep by wooden boat that brings new&nbsp;meaning to the tongue twister "toy boat, toy boat, toy boat." After arrival, my first mission&nbsp; was to the toilet: across&nbsp;from the pig pen and surrounded by chickens pecking at the air. Once inside, I hear some&nbsp;shuffeling noises in the thatch wall and much to my dismay a green snake appears - pants down and all, I run out of the bathroom screaming.I can safely say that this both "nature and animal friendly" island hosted more cows, pigs, chickens, geckos and other unidentifiable animals and insects than I'd prefer to have experienced in such close quarters. I would say there were about 20 people on the island, at best and I slept with a mosquito net and ants in my bed. After not showering for 4 days, I was thankful to arrive at my ghetto guesthouse in the backpackers ghetto of the capital city,&nbsp;which I vowed to never stay in,&nbsp; but Joost got here first and I was meeting up with him and his friend Lila from home. All excited for a sit down toilet and shower, I check into my room, throw my&nbsp; bags down and go into the bathroom to learn that I have to&nbsp;squat to use the toilet and stand on the squatter in order to use the shower, whose head is conveniently in the bucket of water used to flush the toilet. Nice I thought as I cleaned off the Swiss Family Robinson feel before putting on a skirt and mascara for a night out on the town at a posh all white night club.&nbsp;The Prada Hippie's travels continue.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1176432120/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1176432120/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1176432120/tpod.html Thu, 12 Apr 2007 23:02:56 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Saigon, Vietnam

<i>Lesson #1 of traveling alone - never again share a hotel room with a single British man just for the sake of a) company and b) saving $5. Meet James, a 27 year old hyperactive, investment banker from the South of Britain, with some sort of strange back fungus he contracted in Belize and who likes to drink a lot...and alone.<i>Here is the breakdown of the nights: Night 1, after ridiculously cheap draft&nbsp;beers in Saigon he offers for me to "join" him in his bed cause he does not mind "sharing, really," I decline - I just met him that day. Night 2- after an evening at the Saigon symphony and sushi he again offers to "join" him in bed cause he does not mind "sharing, really." I contemplate it, he's hot, but I decline again. Night 3 - we've moved locations, I'm already sick and tired of him, especially when he asks me if on night 2 "did anything happen between us last night?" I scowl "NO!" and he tells me, "weird I had a wet dream." Then I start devising my evacuation route. I spend the night drinking wine on the beach with a lovely Israeli family only to return to my room and see James sprawled out naked on his bed. Night 4 - I ditch James and go to bed early, until I am awoken by him and an 18 year old homely looking Parisian girl getting it on in our room - his bare ass in my face is the first sight I see. The next morning, the Parisian girl comes crying to me about how she cheated on her boyfriend back home with an "old man." Safe to say, I am thrilled we had different routes, and I am now sans James.&nbsp;<i>Saigon (now known as Ho Chi Minh City) is a bustling city with so many motorbikes and hardly any crosswalks. When I still thought James was a good guy, I made him hold my hand every time we crossed the street. The idea is to keep a slow,&nbsp;steady pace and just simply walk, the motorbikes will swerve around you. This is scary, but Saigon is incredible. One of my top 5 favorite cities in the world - definitely my favorite in Asia thus far. <i>We spent our days there touring the city, visiting 3 museums and learning about the impacts of agent orange used during the "American War" as it is referred to here. 3 markets, where I thought I'd see the same kitsch that I see all over SE Asia, but should have known better with Vietnam's close proximity to China, the kitsch was different, but still I did not shop - my backpack is heavy enough already.<i>Vietnam, part of Indochina (Laos and Cambodia too) is great because the French left behind wine, baguette, and cheese. But, here in Vietnam they also left behind churches. Have not seen one of those in almost as year. Catholic churches dot the country, as do graves, which is another site I have not seen in almost a year, because Buddhists believe in cremation. Another thing that has caught my eye is the Latin based alphabet here in Vietnam, brought over by a French missionary.&nbsp;<i>After Saigon, I went to Mui Ne, a quiet beach/fishing village known for it's incredible sand dunes. I rented a motorbike and drove deep into the village waving and smiling at everyone, but one thing was different, hardly anyone was smiling and waving back at me. This is a stark difference coming from Cambodia. In Cambodia, I felt like I was on happy pills - everyone smiles and waves, and in my month there I made friends with the locals who would brush my hair and rest on my shoulders while talking. I also had the displeasure of having Vietnamese massage, which was more like torture as the woman beat me up from top to bottom.<i>Currently, I am rid of James (thank goodness) and crawled my way up through the mountains to Dalat, in South Central Nam. The weather is chilly and I've had to empty the contents of my backpack to get to my one sweater at the very bottom. "Good morning Vietnam!" I am drinking a cup of tea and am about to go rent a bike for the day to see the city. I met a nice Vietnamese man last night at an art gallery while trying to find my way home in the dark last night who offered to help me learn Vietnamese if I helped him with his English, though he thinks I am from Spain - I would not dare let these people know I am American, just not such a smart idea seeing as we have not left the best taste in their mouths. Or perhaps, it is the dog they eat or the cocks balls they claim as a delicatessen.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1175137200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1175137200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1175137200/tpod.html Thu, 29 Mar 2007 09:19:06 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Sihanouk Ville, Cambodia

Children meant to be in school are walking along the white sand beaches with baskets of fruit on their heads and hangers with bracelets slung over their shoulders.&nbsp;"Lady, why you not buy from me" they say as they sit down on your beach chair and fling their arms around your legs. The lady boy with the fruit on his head, rubs my legs checking for leg hair claiming that, "I can take off, no hurt," as he/she pulls out a string and demonstrates the string method of hair removal - which hurts like hell. &nbsp;My left wrist has a growing broad of bamboo bracelets bought mostly out of mercy from children who claim, "today no business, you no buy from me, school costs $10 month, you buy from me."&nbsp;&nbsp;Women pace the beach with babies on their backs and baskets of grilled prawns on their head tops claiming, "lobster, lobster!" Conveniently brushing the sand off your feet to inspect your toes, "pedicure" she asks. Then, grabbing your hand and saying "manicure" or rubbing your shoulders and saying "massage". &nbsp;The beach turns into an all out complete spa package for $6, free view included.&nbsp;After days of being bombarded with dark brown hands in your face, or people with no hands sticking their stumps in your face, you become slightly desensitized and a little less friendly. However, there are times the kids just want to chill out and kick around a soccer ball or thrown a Frisbee instead of peddle fruit and bracelets. &nbsp;But since everyday is pretty much "same same, but not different" (a popular catch phrase here in SE Asia) the question on the beach is usually "what day is it?" They all seem to blend into each other. &nbsp;The sand here is incredible. It is as soft as baby powder and crinkles under your feet making the sound of fresh packed snow powder on a winter morning, as it crunches with each foot forward. The bay that surrounds Serendipity and Occhetual beaches are perfect for sunset happy hour cocktails and long walks on the beach. Have I found paradise?&nbsp;With Monica set to take off back to the States in just a few days, I brace myself for the separation anxiety of not having my favorite travel partner along for the ride. Next stop is Vietnam, starting in Ho Chi Minh City, otherwise known as Saigon. Just not sure when exactly I will make it there for the "same, same" attitude of the coast of Cambodia is pulling me farther and farther into its abyss of white sand beaches, turquoise waters, and $4/night accommodations.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1174567020/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1174567020/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1174567020/tpod.html Fri, 23 Mar 2007 11:07:51 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Phnom Penh, Cambodia

&nbsp;So, we pull into the capital city of Phnom Penh, all is well in the land of inappropriate monks and utter road chaos. Thankfully we splurged for the $10 bus cause it had a bathroom, which I used 15 times in a matter of 6 hours. Safe to say, that peeing while trying not to touch the toilet (that means standing up) in a moving vehicle (worse off the back of a bus on a Cambodian road) was a challenge. But arrived in one piece, perhaps with pee on the back of my legs, and asked the tuk tuk driver to take us to stay somewhere by the river. &nbsp;When we pulled into the street, I had that feeling like, "we're in the ghetto." Monica jumped out to check the place out and comes back with a "well it's clean." So, we disembark, pay our driver $1, and climb 5 flights of stairs into what I cannot even explain as a hotel room. Turns out, what we thought was the ghetto in the surrounding environs of our $10 hotel, turns out to be the posh part of town. EKK!&nbsp;Currently Monica and I are sitting in an internet café. While Monica is next to me, she has a monk looking over her shoulder reading the e-mail she is writing to her boyfriend, Dave, that begins with "hey baby" which is basically porn literature as far as monks are meant to go. However, we've come to learn that monks here in Cambodia, are all too excited to see a western girl. Our initial reaction to the monk love was that they wanted to practice their English. Then, our trusted friend and tuk-tuk driver told us that at night, some monks ditch the robes and opt for a pair of Levi's and a pack of smokes to hit the clubs. We were in disbelief "no way," we thought. Well way, we are now firm believers that the monks are mischievous around these parts. &nbsp;Yesterday, Monica and I were walking around the Royal Palace when we ran into a 20 year old monk walking with his brother. We started to chat and should have known better when his second question to us was, "are you married?" Well, Mr. Monk in red asked us back to his pagoda. "Come to my pagoda, I will give you a tour," he claimed.&nbsp;We were excited to get a first hand look at his pagoda, but little did we known, that meant his room. I had flashbacks of college frat boys asking me to come see their lava lamps in their rooms as a cheesy, bullshit line to try and hook up with me. So, there we were, staring down the monks bedroom with another half clothed male monk inside.We told him it was inappropriate for us to enter and asked him to show us the outside of the temple more. The rest of the time he kept asking, "how come you did not want to see my room" in such a sad tone.&nbsp;Hey Lady! I'm not usually "lady like" but now I have no other choice than to be referred to as a "Lady". &nbsp;"Hey Lady" is shouted at me from every which direction at all moments in time."Hey Lady, you need tuk-tuk?""Hey Lady, you want to buy post card?""Hey Lady, do you want to come back to my pagoda to see my monastery?"&nbsp;&nbsp;Hold your breath, honk your horn, and go. This seems to be the theory when it comes to driving around town. Wrong side of the road, seven way intersections with no traffic lights, something does not make sense, but it happens to all make sense. Crossing the street is tricky to say the least. That is, if you can manage to weave your body in, out, around, and through the bikes, motorcycles, tuk-tuk's, cars, trucks, and whatever else is grazing on these city streets.&nbsp;After a chaotic day on the roadways, and a depressing visit to the killing fields and torture museums, we opted for a foot massage riverfront and we're ready to say, "spent one day, which was 5 days too many in the capital city." So, tomorrow we're off, heading south. Be careful when you cross the road, I hear my mother saying, "look both ways," which I am now beginning to think only works in western countries.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1174394160/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1174394160/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/lisa-ashley/world_partner/1174394160/tpod.html Fri, 23 Mar 2007 11:01:16 -0400 From World Partner to Wanderlust Associate

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Siem Reap, Cambodia

I am in love with Cambodia. I am in love with the almond shaped, dark brown, wide eyed children who mug you for bananas and toothbrushes. I am actually head over heels for the children, all of them. When they beg you to buy powdered milk for their baby brother strapped to their back. When you sit down and buy 6 street children dinner for $2 at midnight. When a naked little boy places his hands together and bows to you from a wooden boat. I am in love with Cambodia's children.&nbsp;There is now no question in my mind that the best souvenir I could take home from here is a child in need. One day, I will do so, but for now, I am enjoying spending my savings and travel money on milk, sweets, oranges, and rice for them. &nbsp;Two days of touring Angkor Wat was taxing. Looking at old stone structures can be, well, boring if you don't really know what it is you are looking at. Among the highlights include:Ancient trees growing out of old stone structures, hidden in the teaming Cambodian Jungle.Monks asking to take pictures with you; you asking to take pictures of the monks and all the while visiting the largest religious structure in the world. Shouldn't we be taking pictures of the temple?Memoirs of Hindu and Buddhism, traces of the stories of Ramayana, Sanskrit carved into buildings, apsaras dancing in stone, and a tour of all the finest toilets in town.And, my favorite of all: &nbsp;the little boy who instead of asking me to buy a postcard, wrote me a love note on one telling me to be happy and to have good luck, complete with a flower as a souvenir from Angkor Wat. I bought him ice cream to say thanks.&nbsp;3 of the girls left this morning and Monica and I were left to venture on our own. With the return of my favorite guide (yeah!!!)&nbsp;we departed our hotel this a.m. to have a hand crafted tour of Cambodia visiting places that even our guide had yet to be.&nbsp;Stopping along the way to buy bread, milk, bananas, sweets, etc. for the children, we crawled through town into a shanty village of bamboo huts on a greenish/brownish river, with naked children chasing after our rickshaw screaming yum yum (Khmer for food). We boarded a boat and brought our guide with us for translation purposes to a floating village. Yes, a full on village floating in the middle of a lake, complete with a hospital, school, and police outpost though not the picture that you are most likely conjuring up in your mind of these official buildings. &nbsp;Today was a day to tour the real Cambodia, not the one for the tourists, but more of the life and times of those who live here. After a couple of hours on the boat, we came back through town and asked our guide if we could walk so that we could hang with the children a bit. He smiled, we climbed down the rick shaw and were attacked by hoards of children and were mugged of all our bananas. Noise (our guide) jumped in and took control over the sweets and distributed them in a lovingly manner before we set off to play with the children at the local orphanage.&nbsp;I met the man of my dreams today. He was about 2 feet tall with brown skin and round black eyes with a scratch on his forehead and about 2 years old with pee on the bottom of his shirt. I held him the entire time we were at the orphanage and the Director asked if I wanted to take him home in my suitcase, and though I was tempted, adoption is illegal from this orphanage.&nbsp;&nbsp;The children here amaze me. I am so in love with the children of Cambodia, so much so that I am contemplating coming back here after Vietnam to stay and play with them more. Today has been the most remarkable day of our travels thus far. For we got to experience the spirit and the lives of those from Cambodia.
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