TravelStream™ news feed for member thedidgeridude on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/thedidgeridude en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sun, 11 Oct 2009 07:50:07 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1229849460/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1229849460/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1229849460/tpod.html Sun, 11 Oct 2009 07:50:07 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Arambol, Goa, India

Lately I have been waking up during the night to the sound of waves crashing onto the beach. "Ahh, yeah, I'm in Goa". I fall back to sleep without a care in the world. Here in Arambol I have found myself in a more relaxed state of both body and mind. I attribute this to the holiday feeling that has overcome both myself and Mish. We know that in just over a month or so we will be back on the road, so I suppose we are taking full advantage of the situation, and why not, eh? Goa, for me, is like visiting an old friend. I feel comfortable, at ease with my surroundings. I do enjoy the thrill of a new town but the familiarity of Northern Goa has helped me step back from it all. This past week has been relaxed, as I have said, with the day revolving around mealtimes. We eat, drink and chat: In the mornings I read and in the afternoon we play chess. The sea is always there as a backdrop, either to lift your spirits or just to admire it's beauty.

Dave and Craig arrived early Sunday morning, two days after us. I was still very drunk from the night before, only having arrived back to my hut just a few hours before they came knocking at the door. I managed to haul myself out of bed, hug them both, stumble to the toilet and crawl back to bed...welcome to Goa boys!! I made sure I greeted them properly, later that afternoon, when I had slept off the night before. Dave has been sick for the last two days, laid up in bed, sweating and shivering and making full use of his toilet. Today he seems full of beans and ready to rumble.

Yesterday, I went fishing with a bamboo poll that an Israeli guy kindly lent me. I had been speaking to him the day before and he had offered me the use of his spare poll which I gladly accepted. We sat there on a rock, in the half light of the setting sun, but caught just one piddly little fish between us. I shall try again tonight but unfortunately I had to pay for dinner last night instead of providing it for everyone. However, I was fortunate enough to be allowed, under close supervision, to make my own garlic nan in the restaurant's kitchen. I thought I'd ask and low and behold they agreed. It was one of my many wishes before I left home, to get myself into an Indian kitchen and cook something, anything. The novelty of a white guy in the kitchen was too much to resist and as I stood there, slapping the nan across my hands, I had the entire kitchen and restaurant staff glaring over my shoulder. With a little help it turned out just fine, perfectly edible, at least. I shall endeavor to talk my way into more kitchens and try my hand at something a little more complicated next time. I would love to gain some greater knowledge of Indian cuisine and this is the perfect way of achieving that. Mishy said she would even eat the curry I cook, brave girl! I have also finally found the perfect birthday present for Mish, as she has fallen for the sound of the Tibetan singing bowl. It's a little late, but better late than never.

Tonight, hopefully, I'll hook up with my old friend Russell, who I met four years ago here in Goa. Mish has already met him briefly and I'm sure she will find him a really nice guy and enjoy his company, as I do. He is a good friend and I have been counting down the days until I would see him once again. As for this week, we are thinking of heading down to southern Goa, to meet up with some more friends from back home and spend the festive season with a bigger crowd of people. We are looking forward to our first Christmas away from home together. It should be a good party atmosphere on a beautiful Indian beach.

XXX
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1235541600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1235541600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1235541600/tpod.html Sun, 11 Oct 2009 07:46:20 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Trivandrum, Kerala, India

It's noisy, it's dirty and it's ridiculously hot: It's Trivandrum, capital of Kerala. Every footstep taken here marks the onset of serious sweats, a simple walk to the shop leaves us exhausted. We have become water junkies, seeking out the coldest water supply possible, which can be difficult at times due to the constant power cuts.

We are here to visit the elephant rehabilitation center. It was Chad's idea to visit, his dream being to wash an elephant, so we were ecstatic when we arrived and spotted an elephant laying on it's side in the near by lake, enjoying an afternoon bath. We scurried over, threw our bags off and waded into the water to help with the scrubbing. This was an elderly male elephant who was more than happy to have three extra pairs of hands cleaning him. He lay there motionless, this huge, docile animal, while the three of us and his two handlers used coconut husks to scrub away at his tough skin. I washed his ears which had the leathery texture of an old, unwanted omelet. Every now and then the elephant would lift his trunk and let out a big rasp of air, what seemed like a sigh of contentment. Chad was in his element and I must admit Mish and I shared his delight. It's quite something to get this close to a large animal and even better to have the opportunity to wash one. Once we finally managed to pull ourselves away we took a walk to another part of the sanctuary so that we could ride one of these magnificent beasts. Our ride was a young female elephant, with a pot belly and stumpy legs. It was a strange feeling, being so high off the ground and I felt like one of those explorers you see in the old black and white films, out on tiger safari. I could feel the power of this bulky animal and yet there was a fluid motion to her every step that was surprisingly graceful. It didn't last as long as we would have liked but was, nonetheless, a magical experience.

XXX
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1250259304/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1250259304/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1250259304/tpod.html Wed, 19 Aug 2009 04:06:56 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Bangkok, Thailand

Our third and final round in Bangkok. We were due to visit Kanchanaburi to the west of the capital but we are very close to the end of our trip and, to tell you the truth, we really can't be bothered with any more bus journeys. So, here we are again, back in the big, colourful, noisy metropolis which has to be one of south east Asia's most intriguing cities.
We are staying in our usual guest house, cheap, clean and far enough away from the Khao San Rd that we don't have to deal with the chaos if we choose not to. David and Patrick arrived here with us on the bus from Cambodia, but our German friend soon left for the sun and sand of Bali. It's now just myself, Mish and David, holding the fort.
Everybody loves their king and queen here in Thailand and so on Wednesday the city came alive as every man, woman and child hit the streets for the queens 77th birthday. Bangkok sparkled that night, even more than it's normally vibrant self and it's citizens came out in force, determined to party the night away. There were fireworks, live music, singing and dancing and as the loud speakers played the national anthem the patriotic Thais hoisted more candles in the air than at a Bon Jovi concert. The atmosphere was electric. Muay Thai boxing was held in the main square as part of the festivities and we were kept entertained for two nights, standing ringside in the humid night air watching the contests. I have been impressed with Muay Thai boxing ever since we arrived in Thailand. I've not only been fascinated by the technical side but also intrigued by the ritual, the traditions observed by the boxers and the respect they show to each other. It never ceases to amaze me just how brutal Muay Thai boxing can be and how it is openly accepted here in such a peaceful nation.
On our third visit to the city, we have discovered a few new treats that Bangkok has to offer, namely a lovely little restaurant called Ethos. This has been a great place to just chill and read within a peaceful, friendly atmosphere. It's free wireless internet is a big pull and it's always busy with people slurping away on delicious fruit shakes while tapping away at there laptops. The owner, Phil, is a warm, friendly person who loves to talk and make his guests feel at home. One afternoon he came and sat at our table and we discussed, amongst other things, a from of meditation that he had stumbled upon recently. He said it had benefited him in a number of ways and now he wished to pass on the positives to others. He was offering forty five minute sessions for free above his restaurant and asked if we would like to give it a whirl. Both myself and David were intrigued and took him up on his offer the following day. I can honestly say that during those forty five minutes of meditation, my body has never felt so comfortable and relaxed and it was a rare treat for my mind to be near-on relieved of it's normal internal chitter-chatter. I can see some benefits if I integrated a few of these sessions into my week and so It's something I will definitely look into further when I return home.

So, it's goodbye to David and goodbye to Bangkok. It's been a real pleasure having the company of two old friends, as we have come to view them both. David will soon fly to India to discover a whole new world. I wish him luck and hope that he enjoys his experience there as much as we did. Bangkok is a place worthy of a return visit and I feel that there are plenty of well hidden secrets waiting to be discovered in this city. We have but scratched the surface. Our time on Koh Pha-Ngan and trekking in the north were by far our favourite times here in Thailand. We will return one day in the hope of discovering the Thailand that has been mostly lost under the weight of tourism. I know it still exists, we glimpsed it while we were in the north near the Myanmar border, but next time, with more time, we would like to lose ourselves and avoid the beaten track that is so well trodden. We will miss the friendly Thai way with their warm smiles. My stomach will for grumble for their fragrant food. Time is almost up, but we have yet to hear the fat lady sing and so now it's on to Malaysia's capital, Kuala Lumpur, our final destination.


XXX

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249969644/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249969644/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249969644/tpod.html Fri, 14 Aug 2009 10:14:08 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Siem Reap, Cambodia

Siem Reap is a town born out of the dust, a hub for the many thousands of tourists that flock to the area every year. From what I have seen so far, it's diverse range of shops and restaurants make it a unique corner of Cambodia. It has something for everyone, backpackers and holiday makers, young and old. It has changed and adapted to the growing demand of tourism and according to an Irishman I met in town, it has changed drastically since his last visit nine years ago. With it's famous 'Bar Street', surrounding restaurants and numerous markets, Siem Reap offers the weary traveller many home comforts and it's hard not to warm to the town. We hadn't felt this comfortable since we left Chiang Mai nearly two months ago.
There is, however, only one reason why people come to Seam Reap and that is, of course, for the temples of Angkor. Built over a three hundred year period, with both Hindu and Buddhist influences, Angkor is the site a vast complex of temples and palaces. It's size is staggering and only the keenest person would attempt to visit every building. Most travellers we had met who had come from Angkor said that after one day they had been well and truly "templed out", so we opted for a one day pass and left early in the morning in our hired tuk tuk.
Considering their age, many of the temples and their carvings are in excellent condition and have withstood the test of time, magnificently. Our favourite site was the Buddhist temple of Bayon. On entering the temple huge stone images of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara peer down at you, and it seems that you can never quite escape their timeless stone gaze. The temple is multi-tiered and it's maze of narrow passageways are adorned with intricate reliefs, carvings depicting famous battle scenes and important moments in the Khmer's history. Bayon is a breath-taking site, and even if you have no interest in the history, it's likely that you will be captivated by it's beauty.
Unrestored and at the mercy of the surrounding forest, Ta Prohm is slowly losing it's battle as the encroaching trees tear it down, brick by brick. Hundreds of years of neglect have allowed the forest to partly claim back what was once it's own domain. Trees now grow in and amongst the temple and the structure looks as if it is slowly being gobbled up. If the undergrowth is allowed to continue it's assault then I'm not sure how long it will be before the temple becomes just another pile of stones. For now though, the struggle between mans' creation and nature makes Ta Prohm a unique, sublime feature of the Angkor complex.
We visited many temples that day and I won't bore you with a big list. The grand finale was the majestic Angkor Wat, once the kings capital city and state temple. It is the most famous of all the Angkor sites, probably due to it's size, but for us, it lacked the character of some of the other smaller temples. With all that said, as you enter through the main gate you eyes are met by a very impressive site. A long stone walkway leads up to the main building, with it's very distinctive three towers, now a national symbol of modern day Cambodia. It is, as I have said, the sheer scale of the temple that wins so many hearts, but on closer inspection the staggeringly intricate reliefs carved into the outside walls are one of it's greatest assets. The inner building is off limits to the public but it was possible to walk through into the courtyard to admire the main temple complex at close hand. As on many over visits to temples I often try to conjure up an image of how it would have looked and felt like when alive with the sounds and smells of the many thousands of people that would have thronged here. The cold, grey stones gave nothing away and it was left to my imagination alone to answer those questions. By late afternoon we were indeed 'templed out'. We had finally seen Angkor for ourselves and didn't have to rely upon pictures taken by our friends; it was finally all there in our own heads to recall whenever we wished.
After nearly seven weeks of travelling with Robert and Juliet it was time for us to part ways. We had enjoyed their company thoroughly and would miss them both very much. They were heading to Singapore while we were on our way back to Bangkok, but we would meet again in Kuala Lumpur in less than two weeks for our final farewell drink. It's a strange feeling knowing that your one year trip will soon grind to a halt. For now though, we will make the most of the time we have left.

XXX
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249713532/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249713532/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249713532/tpod.html Mon, 10 Aug 2009 02:32:24 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Sihanoukville, Cambodia

After finding out that our friend David, who we had met and travelled with in Central America, was relaxing on the beach at Sihanoukville, we decided to head south for the Cambodian coast. It had been eight months since we had left him in Panama city and both myself and Mish were looking forward to seeing our friend once again.
This was an unexpected diversion from our original plan and both Robert and Juliet warmed to the idea very quickly. On arrival, the town itself seemed pretty grim, but once the tuk tuk had dropped us off at the beach we clambered down to the sand and all broke out into smiles. Robert had the widest grin of us all; this was his first taste of beach life since he had left England. We quickly found a beach shack and were soon enjoying the 50c beer on offer, a most welcome bonus. Under the glare of the late afternoon sun we all agreed that it had been a very wise decision. It took me a few hours of searching but eventually I spotted David sitting at another beach shack. He was surprised to see us, assuming we were still in Laos. His initial confused, blank look soon turned into a big smile and after hugging us both we sat down and spent much of that evening swapping stories and catching up.
Over the next few days we slipped into a gentle rhythm of life, dictated by the sun and the sea. We had missed the beach more than we had realized. Our routine was simple; get up late, head down to the beach to have breakfast then wait for beer O'clock before getting the first round of 50c beers in. The weather was mostly glorious, the sand stretched for miles and was fringed by a blue ocean that was both clean and warm. We very rarely left our sandy refuge. Sometimes we would eat dinner at an Indian restaurant just off of the beach front but mostly we had everything we needed right on the sand. It wouldn't have been the same without Patrick, Bud and Tony, three guys we were introduced to through David. They were good company and Bud especially was a real character, just one of many we had been fortunate enough to meet on our travels.
The local casino provided us with a welcome distraction one evening. There was no door charge and the beer flowed freely as long as we continued playing, how foolish, wooooohahahahahaha. Mish and I played roulette with the same 15 Dollars all night. We were up and down but eventually left the table with our original stake of 15 Dollars. I had had my fill of free beer and staggered out with a smile on my face. An entertaining night with free beer, nice.
Sihanoukville had been a holiday, a break from travelling, but time was starting to run out for us and it was time to strap on our skates and get going. David and Patrick joined our band of merry men and women as we all jumped aboard the night bus to Siem Reap and the temples of Angkor.

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249556572/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249556572/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249556572/tpod.html Sat, 08 Aug 2009 02:21:53 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Phnom Penh, Cambodia

After crossing the border from Laos, our first taste of Cambodia was the small, dusty town of Stung Treng. This wasn't the best welcome to Cambodia and so when we returned to our bus, after the hour long stop-over, we hoped that the capital would paint a brighter picture.
We arrived late that night and it was obvious from the moment we stepped out of the tuk tuk that the area we were staying in was sleaze central. We couldn't move more than two steps without getting hassled for either a tuk tuk, a prostitute or a host of chemical highs. For $4 a night, our guest house was a bargain, offering free pool and dvd films. Unfortunately, it doubled as a brothel! Girls would sit around most of the day and all night, in search of their next customer. Whether they worked for the guest house or not, nothing was ever said to dissuade them from hanging around.
Despite the dark undertones of the area, it was a good backpacker hangout, with plenty of bars and restaurants and we found solace in a great little Indian just around the corner from where we were staying. The Magic Sponge held weekly poker nights and so one evening myself, Mish and Rob duly attended, hoping to win the odd Dollar or two. There were some interesting characters around the table with each person playing the game with a differing degree of seriousness. A combination of bad cards and terrible play meant that I left the table first. Mish and Rob fared much better and were unlucky not to finish in the money places.
If you come to Phonm Penh, it's hard not to visit the infamous killing fields and S21 prison, two places forever ingrained in the bloody history of Cambodia. S21 was a school until it was taken over and converted into a place of evil, where so called enemies of the Pol Pot, leader of the Khmer Rouge, were tortured for information before being sent off to the killing fields for execution. It has been left as a reminder of the atrocities and opened up to the public. It was an eerie feeling walking around the old class rooms that had been converted into cells. Most poignant for me were the hundreds of pictures on display, innocent victims of the murderous men and women that ran the prison. The killing fields were more of a subtle reminder, for they have now become peaceful fields, somewhat hiding their dark history. At their center lies a memorial building which was built to house the many hundreds of skulls that were unearthed in the surrounding area. It's quite a distressing site but serves a strong purpose, bringing some reality to the atrocities that were committed here just over thirty years ago.
Phnom Penh, for me, didn't hold much attraction, but maybe I didn't get to know the city well enough. Coming from Laos, Cambodia seemed harsh, but maybe this is a country still reeling from it's brutal past.

XXX
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249340167/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249340167/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249340167/tpod.html Thu, 06 Aug 2009 06:51:59 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Ban Dondét, Lao Peoples Dem Rep

They call this area four thousand islands, a small region of southern Laos were the mighty Mekong river hemorrhages into a number of smaller, fast flowing waterways, before they re-group and enter Cambodia in the south. Looking at our map of the area we decided on the island of Don Det and took a short ferry ride there from the mainland. Our little boat had to work hard against the powerful Mekong current but we eventually arrived, safe and dry.
Luckily for us, our friends Jack and Alice had arrived a few days earlier, reserving accommodation for us all. Their directions on how to find the place were completely useless though, as we had been dropped off at a different location to where their ferry had dropped them. We wandered around with our backpacks, cursing their directions, as the sweat poured from our bodies. Luckily, Don Det is a small island and we managed to find the guest house before we all collapsed with heat exhaustion.
For many people, Don Det would not seem like an attractive place to stay. There was no real infrastructure on the island, no roads, running water and only four hours of electricity each evening. Each day we showered in dirty brown water pumped from the Mekong, our clothes suffering the same fate, often coming back with a strange cream tint. All that said, forgoing such luxuries wasn't such a mammoth test of endurance. Far from it, we enjoyed the basic conditions that came with it such isolation.
Don Det is still in it's infancy as a tourist destination and I was pleased to see that it was a place that still held strong to it's traditional values. Touring the island on foot and bicycle, we were able to get a closer look at the islands rural side, watch men ploughing fields with water buffalo while women sowed their rice. Children ran naked like wild animals, splashing around in the water-logged fields without a care in the world. This was Laos, laid back and at it's most natural, just as we had seen on the Bolaven plateau. Staying there as a tourist, I couldn't help wonder how long it would take before all this was lost to the heavy handed grip of tourism. I have seen for myself that tourism isn't a bad thing, but when the balance is tipped, problems occur; too much tourism destroys the very fabric of an area and slowly everything becomes just 'same same'.
The larger island of Don Khon was connected to our island by an old stone bridge and we rode across this one afternoon in search of the Somphamit waterfalls. I can honestly say that I have never seen such spectacular waterfalls in all my travels. This was the Mekong at it's meanest, a torrent of angry, brown water, tumbling and crashing it's way over an assort course of jagged rocks. Oh, and who said Laos didn't have beaches? Just downstream from the waterfalls we stumbled upon a beach, sand and all. It even had waves, created by the falls further upstream. It was a bizarre sight, a beach on the Mekong river.
It was on the cards from the moment we arrived but it took us a few days before some of us decided that it was time to brave the murky water. The current was far stronger than any of us had expected and we had to cling on to a half submerged log to stop us being carried away downstream. Ten minutes later we all let go anyway and were carried off along with all the floating debris. As we floated off downstream we could here the distant rumbling of the waterfall but managed to find a safe place to haul ourselves out well before we reached, what would have been, certain death. Walking back to our guest house, we jumped back in and this time waited for a large log to float past before scrambling on top of it. Who needs tubing, we had just invented logging on the Mekong! It became a regular pass-time over the next few days.
Having missed the tubing in Vang Vieng, we couldn't resist the temptation of hiring a tube on Don Det. We were taken a few kilometers upstream by boat, dropped off and left to float back down to our island. For the most part, there was minimal effort required, the current quite happy to do all the work for us. Then came a frantic ten minutes, the point when we all had to paddle like mad to reach the correct side of the river before it split into two around our island. Mish and Rob didn't make it, but managed, through hard work they later told us, to reach the dock and pull them selves out before they being swept further downstream. Our Vang Vieng ghost had finally been laid to rest. Our T-shirt would be unique, "In the tube, Don Det!"
It was Robert's birthday on the 19th and we celebrated both on Saturday and Sunday, first with a BBQ at our guest house and then at the fanciest restaurant we could find on the island, which wasn't very fancy at all, but what choice did we have? Juliet had a cake made by a baker on the island, on which, written in icing was the message "Happy birthday Lob". South east Asians find it hard to pronounce the letter R, generally replacing it with an L, hence Rob often became Lob. He had a great birthday, drank himself into the ground and was a great source of entertainment later that night when we played a host of games around the candlelight. He wasn't too bothered, it was his birthday and he sat there confused and blurry-eyed while we tried to explain the various rules. He had had a good night already!
So, our Don Det days were numbered, and we said our goodbyes to Scott, Claus, Pierre and our fabulous hosts mama Sae and Oy. We would miss them all and especially Mama's cooking. It had been a fantastic group of people who were now going off in different directions to continue their own journeys. Mish and I left with Robert and Juliet and headed for the border with Cambodia.
I would recommend Laos to everyone. It's a jewel in south east Asia's crown and reminded me very much of Guatemala in Central America. If you are planning on visiting, do it sooner rather than later, before it loses some of it's shine.

XXX
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249333287/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249333287/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249333287/tpod.html Tue, 04 Aug 2009 03:36:41 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Attapeu , Attapu, Lao Peoples Dem Rep

I was an early riser that second morning on the plateau which enabled me to enjoy the peace and quiet of our sleepy village before it stirred into life. I had had breakfast and was busy writing my blog when the others finally appeared, sleepy-eyed.
We set off that morning knowing that we had many kilometers to cover if we were to make our intended destination of Attapeu. The weather looked promising and it seemed we were in for a another scorcher, as we had had the previous day. According to our map, there was a short cut that would save us a considerable amount of time, but there was a catch. The road, if you could call it that, was an unfinished highway, and still remained a dusty, bumpy, dirt track. The weather seemed to be on our side and so we took our chances with the dirt track. It took a while to get used to the conditions of the track but it wasn't long before we settled into a steady pace and were soon enjoying the surrounding coffee plantations and villages. We made it to the end just in time, the sky suddenly turning ominously dark.
We continued on and made it to a small town just in time for the heavens to open up. We watched and waited for the rains to pass, sheltering in the porch of a local shop. Eventually the worst of it passed and we decided it was time to move on and find the next waterfall on our map. Turning off of the main road and onto another dirt track, it took us a while to locate the falls and we could hear the thunderous sound of falling water well before it was sighted. The Tad fan waterfall is an immense body of water, cascading over a very wide, low ledge of rocks. The water steamed and bubbled and a thick mist swelled at it's center. If only water could speak, what tales it would have to tell.
The rain held back and we were making good ground as we stole south towards Attapeu. A little peckish, we stopped at a roadside restaurant where the only food available was the usual noodle soup with the unidentifiable meat floating around on it's surface. Beggars can't be choosers, so we all ate and looked forward to a proper meal later on that evening.
The sun shone down on us for the last part of our journey that afternoon and we were able to relax and take in our awesome surroundings.
We arrived in Attapeu earlier than expected and managed to find a reasonable guest house. Finding food however proved a much harder task. After buying a few nibbles from a market, which only made me more hungry, we finally found what seemed to be a pork BBQ restaurant. When the pork finally arrived on our table I was overjoyed at the thought of a good feed. After sifting through the various parts, however, it was clear that it wasn't exactly a gourmet feast. It was only after eating one half of a pig's snout that I discovered the other half and then realized what I had done. I felt suddenly queasy. We left most of what was on our plates and went in search of dinner elsewhere. We couldn't find a single place to eat that night and had to be content with a cheese baguette from a roadside stall. I went to bed with a grumbling stomach that night.

XXX
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249338651/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249338651/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1249338651/tpod.html Mon, 03 Aug 2009 18:55:16 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Pakse, Champasak, Lao Peoples Dem Rep

The weather wasn't going to let us have it our own way on that last day in the Bolaven plateau and it was clear from the start that we were going to get very wet at some point. Within an hour of riding we inevitably hit the rain and it lashed down upon us with amazing ferocity. We continued on despite it, but had to change our route when we arrived at the dirt road we were due to take and realized it had turned into a quagmire, totally unfit for bikes. We were soaked to our bones when we stopped for lunch. I couldn't face another day of noodle soup and went in search of something a little more filling. It had been two days since I had eaten anything substantial and I was beginning to feel weak. Alas, it seemed these people didn't eat anything but noodle soup and so I decided to wait until we arrived back in Pakse that afternoon. The rain stayed away for the rest of that day, but we headed straight back, far to wet to consider stopping at the waterfalls we had planned to see. There was a little satisfaction in finding a restaurant on the way back where I filled my stomach with fried rice and chicken while I watched Muay Thai boxing on the TV.
Back in Pakse, we were all tired and feeling the effects of our three day bike ride. It had been a great trip, testing but unforgettable. That night we ate curry for dinner and then most of us had just enough energy to make it to bed before we collapsed. We would need a good sleep that night. We had an early bus to catch the next day.


XXX
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1246253225/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1246253225/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/thedidgeridude/1/1246253225/tpod.html Mon, 03 Aug 2009 06:43:17 -0400 Gone walkabout - One man, one woman and a didgeridoo

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Ban Tai - Koh Pha Ngan, Surat Thani, Thailand

Paradise is just half of the equation, the other half being the people you share it with. Our migration from Hat Yao to Ban Tai on the south of Koh Pha Ngan seemed an easy choice and we slipped straight into the Emerald Ocean way of life the minute we arrived. Andy and John, the two ex-pat English guys who owned the place, made us feel instantly welcome and were pleased to have us staying at their resort instead of just visiting every now and then. We were "part of the family now", in John's words, so we made ourselves at home. In the coming week, we were to become very fond of these two guys along with our fellow residents.
Andy, a happy go lucky, what you see is what you get kind of man, made an instant impression on me and I would often sit at the bar with him, listening to his stories and anecdotes. He had a lifetimes worth of them to tell and he had me in stitches much of the time. He could generally be found sitting at reception, or behind the bar, never without a bottle of Singha beer in his hand. It's not every ones idea of paradise, I'm sure, but Andy had left England behind both physically and mentally and was happily skipping down his own yellow brick road. I'm not sure where it would lead him and I'm sure he had no idea either. I enjoyed seeing a man who had worked hard all his life, enjoying the fruits of his labour. John, his business partner, was a more complex character, equally funny, but a man who enjoyed his own company as well as the company of others. I would often see him sitting by himself and I suspect that he was just quietly content, happy that others were enjoying his creation. He would disappear for most of the day, frequenting other bars run by ex-pats on the island, and would normally return before dark, slightly off balance, but in high spirits. Together, they were an unconventional business partnership, but nevertheless, captains of their own ship, more akin to the pirate variety, which somehow they managed to keep afloat. Later that week Emerald Ocean was to be given a new name by our group, a name most fitting. Fawlty Towers.
So, what of our shipmates, the rag-tag mix that made up our little group. John, a forty-something traveler from England, was a cracking guy who partied hard while always maintaining a father like figure to some of the group. Travelling draws people close, breaks down age barriers and other obstacles that exist back home and John was a perfect example of this, a guy in his forties having fun with people young enough to be his own children. Kate and Lee, from Brighton, were travelling together as friends but were the most unlikely partnership. Unlike the rest of us, they were on a three week holiday, so Kate was out to party hard and get the most from her short time away. She was a bubbly, friendly girl and a real asset to the group. Lee was a quiet guy, and never really seemed to get involved too much in the group, preferring to stay in the shadows, somewhat. Because of this, I never really came to know Lee that well. Heather, a confident, northern lass was a friendly girl who was quite happy joining in with the group as well as go off and do her own thing. The puppies of the group were Sarah, Emma and James, fresh out of university, enjoying the pleasures of a short three month trip before heading back home to turn their degrees into pound notes. They were all friends from back home in Cornwall, three lovely people, energetic and lively, all intelligent with a really nice way about them all. There were a few others that would make an appearance every now and then including Peter from Germany and Rob, an ex-pat from Scotland. He was a very interesting guy, well experienced in island life, with stories that would both shock and amuse me. All in all, it was a very broad group, with people from all walks of life. As the week went on, it began to feel like one of those old school trips abroad that I have such fond memories of.
Sometimes you need a little time away from group activities and so I would grab my fishing rod and a bottle of beer and wade out to the nearby reef for a spot of squid fishing. A quiet place where my thoughts were allowed to drift away leaving me to admire my beautiful surroundings. If luck was with me that day I'd catch enough squid for dinner.
Every night was a blast at Emerald Ocean but one particular evening that stands out above the rest was John's birthday. Fifty nine and still going strong, he had the perfect turn out to his birthday bash which noticeably overwhelmed him. The residents were in full force as were a large contingent of other ex-pats from around the island, all cramped around the beach bar drinking and chatting while the Andy's wife and brother-in-law put on a free BBQ for us all. While they cooked, I dug a fire pit and then recruited all the men into combing the beach for drift wood and anything flammable. As the night wore on, people began to gravitate away from the bar to enjoy the pleasures of the fire. There were a few moments of hilarity, most memorably Rob, who had to be pulled away from the fire after falling in a drunken heap to close to the flames and nearly going out in a blaze of glory when there was a sudden change in wind direction. I'll never forget the look of confusion and anger on his face when he woke up while being dragged along the sand. My last memory of the night before passing out was four of us rolling a huge log into the flames, a log so large it would burn and smolder for the next two days.
Before we knew it, Full Moon was upon us, another excuse for a party, not that we really needed one. We decided to have our own pre-party at the bar before heading off to the Full Moon party at around 11.30. Two liters of Sang Som later we all jumped into a pick-up truck and headed for the madness of Hat Rin.
The Full Moon party has it's fans and it's critics. Some say it brings out the worst in local people, some of whom see it as a way to cheat and steal from tourists. This is the case, for the unlucky few, but all in all it's a safe environment to party hard into the early hours of the morning. I took nothing of value with me, no wallet, no camera, just a 1000Baht and my party head. Job Done. Nothing quite prepares you for stepping out on to the sand at the Full Moon party and gazing along the beach at the thousands upon thousands of people, a twisting, writhing mass of arm-flailing bodies. Every fifty meters of beach there is a new bar with it's own sound so hopping between bars when you get bored of one type of music becomes a theme of the evening. We danced the night away, lost each other and found each other amidst the sprawling crowds. I randomly chatted to fellow party people, conversations that are lost to me now but at the time, while sharing their whiskey buckets, were real and alive. I have fleeting images of the whole night, clip-its, small details that I will treasure forever. I can distinctly remember seeing John dancing on one of the platforms erected on the beach, top off and shaking his booty like a twenty one year old. I can faintly remember being dragged up there myself on a few occasions. The night passed like a whirlwind, a distant, unattainable memory for most of the ten thousand or more people cramped onto the beach. One image that will stay with me is the sight of hundreds of men and women urinating in the sea while others swum about them, content and happy.
In the early hours of the morning, as if someone had just flicked a switch, the sun appeared from nowhere, creeping up above the ocean like a parent ready to tell us all to go to bed. Mish and I sat on the beach, enjoying the moment together, and watched as others, seemingly oblivious to the approaching new day, continued to kick up sand and showing no sign off going home to bed. We were joined by many others and the beach filled up with people all eager to enjoy this unique moment. "If only I had brought my camera". I remember thinking this as I sat there that morning. I'm happy in the knowledge that these images are safely stored away, ready to be plucked out again whenever they need to be.
Most of our party stayed for another day or two after the Full Moon, mostly to recover, recoup some energy and recount a jumble of memories. The end of our group was always inevitable but the knowledge of that never makes it any easier when it comes to saying goodbye. We had enjoyed each others company and become close friends. Michelle and I should be experts at saying goodbye after nearly ten months of traveling, but it never seems to get any easier. We were all heading in different directions, some to other islands, some going home, some staying while we planned on a trip to the north of Thailand. There was talk of meeting up with Sarah, Emma and James later on.
Koh Pha Ngan was a perfect two weeks. We left in high spirits, ready to see a different side of Thailand, maybe not so crazy as island life, but no doubt just as rewarding.

XXX



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