vlogabond's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries TravelStream™ news feed for member vlogabond on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/vlogabond en-us Copyright ©2012 TravelPod.com Wed, 21 Mar 2007 09:18:59 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com Ep5: Jaipur Kite Festival — Jaipur, India http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1168934820/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1168934820/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1168934820/tpod.html Wed, 21 Mar 2007 13:18:59 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Jaipur, India

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About Jaipur: Kite Festival Watch the Kite Festival episode. by Dan The Taj Mahal still in our thoughts, we set off for Jaipur. After waking up very early and rushing to the train station, the train was of course 6 hours late. We waited amongst the locals trying to stay warm in the early morning air. Finally the train arrived, and the 7 hour trip to Jaipur was uneventful. The air was warm and the sky was bright by the time we arrived in Jaipur. Jaipur is located in the northwest region of India, in the arid state of Rajastan. Jaipur is one of the three cities that compose the "golden triangle," along with Agra (where we just were) and Delhi (where we were headed). Well known for its bazaars, the downtown center of the city is all painted in a pinkish color, thought by locals to keep Cockroaches from eating the walls. The city sprawls over the floor of a valley, with rocky hills surrounding the area. Old forts and palaces fleck the horizon, looking out over the city. Our goal was to rent motorbikes and explore the city and surrounding areas, but after an exhaustive search, we began to realize there was so little demand for tourists to rent bikes in the area, few stores would offer to rent. "No rent, just buy!" we were told countless times as we wandered the wildly busy streets. Finally, we were taken to a place called "Enfield corner" where we were told they could rent us some motorbikes- but they would have to bring them to us from the other side of the city. We spent the next couple of hours milling around, drinking Chai with the store owners, and chatting with locals. Justin and his lady-friend made friends with some kids across the street who brought him to their roof to practice flying kites. Tomorrow was the city-wide kite festival and the whole city would shut down for the event. They invited us back the next day to join them on their roof. Finally the motorbikes arrived. One bike was an enormous army-green Enfield that looked like it was probably used in World War II. The other bike was a tiny little scooter painted a rusty red color maybe 15 years ago. Driving in Jaipur is probably just below swimming with great white sharks with a bloody nose on the list of most dangerous activities. Add this to the fact that the bikes were manual transmissions, and neither of us knew how to drive them. Justin manned up and selected the behemouth Enfield, and I hopped on Scooty. After a few "stalled" attempts at getting my little bike moving, with Jen on my back seat I popped the clutch, and was off racing through traffic. The wind in my hair, the hot pavement beneath my feet, the open road! Man and machine melted in to one as we raced down the street at speeds previously unimaginable. Nothing could stop me! I made it barely 50 feet down the road before the engine puttered and ground to a halt. A crowd of about a dozen "mechanics" were on me in an instant poking, prodding and offering suggestions on how to fix my bike. We had enough petrol, enough gas, and the engine was well oiled- the thing was just a heap. I soon gave up, wrestled my bike away from the swarm of locals and walked it back to the store to get my money back. On the way back, we passed Justin (the other road warrior, conquerer of pavement). He hadn't been able to get his Enfield started either, and had traded in his motorcycle for a bicycle. He was peddling down the road with his girl, Destinee, on his handlebars. Moving too slow to keep a straight line, they weaved back and forth on the street. Haven't already wasted a good part of the day, we agreed to meet back up for dinner and they set off for the Monkey palace on the other side of town. Jen and I gave up on our two-wheeled dream and decided to get our money back. We hired an autorickshaw to take us just outside of town to a fort we heard offered a good view of the city. The driver inexplicably stopped about 7km away from our destination and refused to go any further at any price, and we had to pay him another 100 rupees to bring us back and not leave us stranded in the desert. Frustrated but not broken, we set off on foot. We explored the bazaars around town, did some shopping, and sampled food from local street vendors. We wandered in and out of the local palaces and took in the sites. We all had dinner together that night and turned in early. We awoke early the next day. It was time for the kite festival! We headed out to our friends house in town who we had flown kites with the day before. That morning, they had flown a gigantic kite they had hand made that actually sat 4 people. The thing was as big as a room! We were bummed we couldn't catch a glimpse of the big guy flying, but we were happy with our little kites. We joined about a dozen other family members on the roof of a 3 story apartment. From that vantage point, you could see the thousands of kites being flown all across the city skies. Kites of all different colors and sizes sailed from every rooftop, and not a man, woman or child was left out of the fun. Giving the line of ones kite a tug would send it zipping through the air in the direction the kite was facing, and using this effect, one tried to cut down the kites of your friends. Just getting the things off the ground was a challenge for us, and the locals' kites would swarm ours, and everyone would cheer when our kites were cut. We drank more Chai, chatted and danced with the people on the roof for hours and took a ton of great pictures and video. We lost track of time and almost missed our bus to Delhi.
]]> Takin' it easy on Pulau Tioman — Pulau Tioman, Malaysia http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171910520/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171910520/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171910520/tpod.html Wed, 21 Feb 2007 18:59:50 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Pulau Tioman, Malaysia

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About The boat ride to Tioman was pretty awesome. We all jammed in to this tiny little rickety boat and it taxied us to the bigger boat waiting in the harbor. Lot of old westerners w/ kids freaking out on the tiny boat- but we thought it was cool. On the way to Tioman, we cruised by all of these tiny islands on the 2 hour journey. They were mounds maybe 100 to 1000 meters long, swooping up at crazy angles and totally covered in lush jungle, besides the deserted, pristine beaches. Then Pulau Tioman loomed on the horizon.... It's actually a pretty big island, maybe 20k in diameter. The ferry circles around the whole island before returning to mainland, and you have to choose which beach you want to get off at. There's one with a tiny airport runway, one with just a single, posh resort (with a one hole golf course) and some other quaint little villages full of locals. We chose the little backpacker hovel thats supposed to be very quiet, secluded and peaceful. The guidebook calls Tioman "the best tropical beach destination without a beach!" The beach is mostly rocky, but an enormous coral reef extends around the whole island; great for scuba diving and snorkeling. The island is just stunning. On one side there's a decent sized mountain with rocky spires, and the whole island is very hilly. Every inch of land that doesn't have a bungalow built on it (and there are very few man made buildings here), is covered in jungle. Not like dense vegetation, but JUNGLE. You can't get from one little town to another except by jumping back on the thrice-a-day ferry, or by trekking through the jungle. There's not even a path to the next villiage over. You have to follow the electric wire strung up in the canopy. We arrived around noon, found a little bungalow on the beach with a view of the ocean (22 ringet- about 3.5 ringet to $1), and hired some snorkel gear for the afternoon. We cruised around a few dive sites and explored the underwater world. Snorkeling is Scuba's runt little sibling, but it was still very beautiful. There are tons of fish, especially so because there are SO few people out. I swear we saw no more than a dozen tourists in the entire village. Very few locals as well. This place is just empty. On the WAY to snorkel, we saw big monkeys running around in the jungle, a small lizard waddle across the road, then a GIANT lizard waddle across the road (like 6 feet long). Underwater, besides hordes of your run-of-the-mill fluorescent, multicolored, psychedelic looking fish and coral, we also spied a couple stingray, a giant eel, giant clams, a long barracuda and a fat puffer fish lookin thing with a face like a horse. There were tiny jelly fish everywhere that stung the hell out of us, and the salt water was burning my rash, but we stayed out for a pretty long time (and got subsequently sun burned, of course). We made friends with some dudes at the local dive shop (including one who is the island queen- as in a dude who dresses in drag and demands to be called Divine) who told us about a bar opening that night on the strip. Mind you, there are no cars on the island, barely any motorbikes, only a walking path along the edge of the beach. There's maybe 10 different establishments (a cluster of bungalows counting as only one) in the whole village, so opening night at a bar was pretty big news and the whole town was going to be there. We showed up at the bar early. Besides the little bar, there were 4 raised platforms with a roof but no walls, each with a small table to sit on the floor around with one's friends. We chose one closest to the bar. We ordered some delicious yellow curry, a round of drinks and sat down for a few games of chess. The crew from the dive shop (with the exception of the queen, who did not grace us with his/her presence) joined us as the sun was setting- it was a spectacular, fiery red sunset that lit up the whole sky- the first good one in weeks they said. We hooked my iPod up to the bar's speaker (yes, speaker in the singular) and people slowly started joining us and we made friends with everyone who showed up. By the end of the night, we had a cluster of about 12-15 people at our little mini bungalow. There were maybe a dozen other people standing around the bar, or milling about the other bungalows. This was probably about the population of the entire village. Everyone was from a different part of the world and had different stories to tell. Very, very fun night. The next day we decided that an attempt to navigate through the jungle toward the other side of the island. Within 15 minutes we were wishing we had a machete. The jungle was dense and the non-existent path was treacherous at best. We found ourselves stopping on many occasions to listen for creatures in the foliage before crossing some of the more congested areas. We discovered bugs whose abnormal growth was most certainly the product of nuclear radiation, and those pesky giant lizards were never around to consume these beasts that barred our way. Dan's favorite were the marching ants that perfectly lined the hanging wire, our only friend and guide. Towards the end of our lengthy quest, we came to an insanely steep hill that stretched down for over a mile. We pulled up the anchor and let ourselves be taken by gravity. An afterthought, running faster than you can control yourself downhill in sandals is not always wise. The hill eventually tapered and we slowly cruised through the finishing line. We finally came upon our destination- the other side of the island! An enourmous expanse of pristine beach stretched before our eyes, with nary a soul basked on its golden sand. We jumped in to the ocean to dry off (we got a bit sweaty) and within an hour, and in great part due to the pesky sun and its preference to schedule, we realized that we had to return home soon. Traveling back in the dark would have been an impossibility. Needless to say, upon our return we were in requirement of refreshment. It came in no better form, from a warm aluminum can, whose inscription happened to read Guinness (though it might be a sin that we poured its contents into a plastic bag filled with ice). Before venturing completely back to our shanty, we detoured to the airport where we, with no ticket or destination, merely walked into the duty free, large iron gate swinging in the wind. Said Guinness and a bottle of tequila were our marks and with duty free prices, and we did not ask questions. Strolling the beach for tonight's big adventure, we came across a party of three who we had previously seen on their entrance to the jungle trek. Two girls and a guy. We thought we had proven our valor and merit as men with the back-to-back trek in one day, but they requested of us a coconut to combine with their bottle of rum. Not to let down, we adorned ourselves with ammunition (rocks and other coconuts) and began perilously launching them at every fruit bearing tree in sight. More than a few bounced back at us, but eventually Daniel proved the victor with a near godlike catapult of a boulder. Then came the opening of the large nut. After a few stabs with Dan's trusty pocket knife, we broke down and asked a local. He produced a machete as if out of thin air, and with one fell swoop began the party. Rum flew like mosquitos, and between the five of us, we could barely put the entire thing down. Needless to say, the warm rum/coconut milk was kind of funky. We were exposed to local Karaoke, tobacco chewing goats, and schizophrenic bartenders before we mercifully ended the night early to avoid our heads splitting like our holy grail coconut. ESCAPE FROM TIOMAN: We woke up with the memories of the tabacco eating goat, rum filled coconuts, and giant hairy nordic woman still lingering in our thoughts, and somehow both knew we'd seen all there was to see on Tioman island, at least before it began to corrode and infect our perspective. We returned our underwater camera case to lil' boy tom, the 19 year old scuba wonder who complained anytime he had customers to appease. The laziness was more contagious than Dan's man eating bacteria, and we had to escape. We set up chess shop right by the dock as to not miss the ferry back to civilization, or arguably half way back. The battle became bloody, and in the midst of a bishop deadlocking queen and king, we soon heard the roar of the ferry pulling away. I had the best view of the dock, and soon a sturdy finger was pointed my way. Fisticuffs were unpacking their bags when a kindly old wrinkle of a woman informed us that the ferry would be coming back in less than fifteen minutes. We zipped up and zipped out and thus began our 31 hours of straight boating and busing to Bangkok. The ferry was a choppy three hours, but an easy start in comparison to things to come. After emerging onto land, Dan and I trekked back about a km through the most vicious heat we've experienced so far to what we thought was the bus station. Countless taxi drivers whisked by offering us their air conditioned comforts for mere dollar or two, But Dan and I were men this morning, and walked those extra kilometers as if Helen of Troy herself awaited our arrival. Upon arriving, we soon discovered that where we were dropped off by the bus on our trip to Mersing was actually the local bus station. To reach KL, and eventually Bangkok, we needed the express bus station. This station was located right across the street from where our ferry had landed. The two dollars spent on a taxi ride back were the most dignity drowning notes ever ripped from my sweaty palms...even the pleasures of AC burned the skin and my pride. Helen had let us down. We booked our express train, grabbed a local bite of fried rice, and continue our chess battle. Before Dan can finish me off, however, the spicy "special" burger I had the night before began to knock at my door. The back door. Thus ensued the worst bathroom experience of my entire trip. For starters, Maylasian bathrooms are more heavily guarded then their banks, and require a fee to enter. Coming from india, I could gladly accept (even appreciate) this new feature, if, you know, just for the hell of it, it went towards keeping the bathroom in a condition of functionality, maybe even clean. Alas, this was the dirtiest stinkpot I'd ever come across, and half way through my evacuation, it became apparent that the greenish liquid dripping on my head was not going to stop. I hosed my ass and took a shower in purell. The day was on its way. We packed into our bus and were reminded that gentlemen of the over-six foot persuasion are not kept in mind during the construction of these death mobiles, these giant street torpedos. I don't mind the driving, I actually think it is one of the redeeming factors in Asia. Nothing takes your mind off of the cramping like watching your driver swerve back and forth as if he was trying to swat street flies. Anything to keep it interesting. The gentlemen in front of us were kind enough to lower their seat-backs to the near horizontal position- perhaps a better position to expel their audible flatulence. Five hours later we land in the middle of Kuala Lumpur's Chinatown, and are shuffled on to our next bus within five minutes. The hour was late, and through numbness we found sleep quickly. At four a.m. , however, we were abruptly awoken and removed from the bus and told to grab our bags and follow. We were lead to another bus, this one not so super vip, as our last had claimed. The night was cold, and the a/c was stuck on ice age. I don't know about daniel, but I was ready to discard my already withering dignity for a little cuddle and warmth. My words, however, were frozen in my throat. We arrive in Hat Yai (glorious Thailand!) and decide that a train is the way to mercifully finish this adventure to Bangkok. We needed sleep badly and were sick of buses at this point. We spend twenty minutes in the blazing heat to attempt to knock down the taxi ride to the train station from 60 ringet, but to no avail. One gentlemen went down to 40 until he was accosted by fellow taxi drivers and thus black balled into removing his offer. Conceding, we hop on and make our way for the train station. There we learn that every sleeper class is booked, and that third class sitting is more expensive than a bus. We turn right around and hail the first taxi we see, who quickly offers us a ride to the bus station for 40. Back at the bus, we book our 14 hour "vip" ride and wait and wait and blister. Making sure we are first in line to guarantee a seat that will not buckle our knee joints, we stand in the sun. Once on, we are informed the seating is assigned and are shuffled to midget class z, where we become a tangled mess of limbs, further deprived of sleep. A loud thai movie begin to blare in the background, and we simultaneasouly look up to see a homeless man on the screen, shooting a squirt gun into what i could only guess to be the main character's ass. Dan did not look again, I was glued there after, as were the two monks sitting near by. We arrived in Bangkok to find that ALL the guest hostels were full. We fell asleep on a bench in a restaurant and passed out. We are still recovering.
]]> Journey to Malaysia, and a Hospital Visit — Mersing, Malaysia http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171823700/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171823700/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171823700/tpod.html Wed, 21 Feb 2007 18:59:08 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Mersing, Malaysia

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About Our journey out of Singapore was comfortable, pretty and uneventful. With no idea what we were doing we successfully transfered from one bus to another all the way out of Singapore, through customs and found the correct us to the port town on the east coast. The landscape throughout the bus ride through Malaysia was the deepest, densest jungle I have ever seen. Very cool. We missed the last ferry out to our island and had to spend the night in that town, called Mersing. There was only a couple guest houses, a dock, and basically nothing else. We were asleep by 11pm for a 7am wakeup call. We purchased the Ferry out for 8:30am in the morning, but when we arrived at 8am, The fairy had already left. The next one was at 10am. Justin and I sat down to read. I was in the part of my book about infectious diseases, bacteria, and doctors. I took a look at my not-so-slowly spreading rash that I had picked up in Kuala Lumpur and panicked. It wasn't long before the man-eating bacteria had consumed my entire epidermis and would leave me a withered bag of bones. I needed to go to the hospital, NOW. We had 1 hour to find a hospital and make it back to the ferry or we would have to spend another day in Mersing- which in all likelihood was going to happen. We stored our bags at the ferry's office and hit the road on foot. We asked the first lady we saw drive by in a car where the hospital was and she quickly responded "get in! I'll take you there." We inadvertently stumbled in to our first Asian hitchhiking adventure! The lady was very nice but barely spoke English. It only took about 5 minutes to get the hospital, where she deposited us at the doorstep with a friendly goodbye. At the hospital, nothing was written in English and it suddenly struck me that I was in a very strange country, had no insurance information and little idea what kind of crazy witch doctor I was about to see. My fears were quickly eliminated, however, so much so that by the end of my visit I was actually wishing our health care system was more like Malaysia's! The hospital was small, one floor and not OLD looking, but certainly not state of the art. The complex of rooms were all open air- typical Asian style- and it was refreshing to be in a waiting room with fresh air. There was a front desk, a waiting room with about 50 chairs (with maybe half empty), maybe 5 doctors rooms, and an emergency room around the corner. At the front desk I was asked to fill out my paper work (my name, passport number, and nationality only). The friendly man at the counter helped me read and fill out the information card and gave me a number that would be called when I was to see the triage nurse. He charged me 15 Ringet (less than $5 USD) to get my number, and I could only expect that more fees would be tacked on at every stop- I had a large wad of cash at the ready. Within half an hour, my number was called and I went in to see the nurse. A young Muslim woman attended to me very well. She took my blood pressure (on an electronic machine, its worth pointing out), examined my rash (it started on my elbow and spread to my arms, back and legs), asked about my medical history, and took some notes for the doctor. She said the doctor would see me soon. In Asia, "soon" usually means anywhere from 1 to 12 hours, so I settled back in to the waiting room with a couple dozen other locals. No sooner had I opened my book than the doctor came out calling my name. I was lead in to the office a very young and pretty doctor. She couldn't have been much older than me! She spoke English well, asked a lot of questions, and seemed to be very knowledgable. She quickly diagnosed that I had just had some sort of allergic reaction (perhaps to seafood!) that had given me hives. She took her time and explained what medication she had prescribed, and handed me a form in Malaysian for the pharmacy. I was out the door in 10 minutes. I walked back to the front desk with my wallet out, wondering how much that short doctors visit was going to cost me and where the nearest pharmacy was. The man smiled at me and pointed to another window about 30 feet away labeled "Farmacy." I walked to that window, handed the lady my slip and within 3 minutes she had found my 3 different types of pills, poured them in to little baggies and explained to me my dosages. They gave me a steroid for inflammation, an antihistimine for the itching, and an antibiotic. They don't carry different sizes of different pills, so the doses are funny. I have to take eight 5mg pills of one type, 2 times a day. After one week, the first baggy runs out, and I have to take 4 of the 5mg pills twice a day for some time after that (I'll write that out for you in full at the bottom again). See said "thank you, feel better" and handed me the baggies. I responded "how much?" She looked at me puzzled. "How much for the pills?" She laughed and smiled at me. "You already paid... 15 Ringet for everything." Justin and I kind of looked at each other like there must be some trick here. I slowly walked away waiting for a guard to chase me down and cuff me. We made it all the way to the road before it fully set in. My whole visit to the hospital cost me just about $4.50, and took only 40 minutes. I had seen a doctor, been prescribed medicine, and had my prescription filled without delay AT the hospital- for no extra cost. The place was clean, friendly, and orderly and the doctor was knowledgeable and professional. What an amazing experience I just had! It makes one wonder why the American system has so many problems, takes so long, and costs so much. Back on the road, we stuck our thumbs back out and soon found another ride back to the docks. We had actually made it back to our ferry in time! We boarded the boat and set off towards the open ocean. As we motored through the beautiful archipelago, I reflected on the fact that the ferry trip actually cost me twice the amount as my hospital visit. Next stop, Pulau Tioman! (a clever reader will have already figured out that we made it to the island or you wouldn't be reading this.)
]]> Ep10.5- The Keris (continued from Singapore) — Singapore, Singapore http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171651620/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171651620/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171651620/tpod.html Wed, 21 Feb 2007 18:57:23 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Singapore, Singapore

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About To watch this episode, click here. In singapore we had the distinct pleasure to stumble upon a rare ceremony: the cleansing ritual of the Keris. In an obscure part of Arab Street there was a crowd of people packed tightly around a single large table filled from end to end with some of the most beautiful blades we've ever seen. Each was a unique and beautifully constructed piece of art. They were assembled and awarded various honors. Speaking to the owners of these priceless artifacts, we came to learn and appreciate a lot of the passion that stems from the keris. The Keris is more than just a mere weapon. It is a representation of its owner, so bound to him that death can be a preferable outcome than separation. A king could lend his Keris to a subject to temporarily bestow his power on a person. Amazed by the entire spectacle, we introduced ourselves to the the host of the ceremony, and owner of The Malay Art Gallery in Singapore. He invited us to come by his shop the next day to learn more about this world, and seeing in our eyes the desire, said we could even satisfy our urge to wield one. ....and some bonus footage.
]]> Ep10- Singapore me a drink — Singapore, Singapore http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171514520/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171514520/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171514520/tpod.html Wed, 21 Feb 2007 18:56:34 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Singapore, Singapore

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About To watch this episode, click here. Come with us as Dan hops all around the city (and makes an idiot out of himself). Dan and I were skeptical. We had just left Kuala Lumpur and were not particularly in the mood for another metropolis, especially one as expensive as this port. A Singapore sling, the official cliche drink of tourists, finishes just above the $20 mark, which is about as not sweet as the drink itself. So, with our doubts soaring and our spirits just barely intact, we were dumped at night in the middle of the city with not a clue as to our destination. An address, but no clue. With a little charm and the help of a skinny asian girl's extended thumb, we finally hailed a cab. The driver was friendly and outspoken, sharing his sentiments against the high standard of living and the futility of life after 40. We pulled up to our temporary abode, a beautiful high rise a block away from the Orchard Towers. Many thanks again to Peggy letting us in and treating us like family, (if not better!). The apartment is also right next to the American Club, a grandiose reminder of home, and any "ex-pat" who belongs surely erodes some legitimacy of that title. We take full advantage of our comfortable new dwellings, and are soon cleansed, fed, wiped, and burped back to a normal condition of weight and odor. At the dawn of the next day, we set off with our dear host to explore the sights. As she led us through the most elaborate museum I've ever set foot into, it became clear that we could not have hand picked a better tour guide (she actually works there). The museum was just a start, and for the first time in this entire trip, Dan and I imbibed more information than poison. We found our way to China Town. Waxed pigs, geese and other UIM's (unidentified meats) hung from every corner in open invitation to the Chinese New Years rapidly approaching. Festivities were at a high, and locals could be found waiting in three hour lines for traditional pork from the favorite meat store. On Arab street, we dined at a restaurant called Zam Zam's, where mutton was served, and deliciousness was devoured. Dan ate his weight in lamb. We later had an ancient man with a mystical parrot reveal Vlogabond's fortune in Little India. As well as success, Vlogabond will soon be expecting a baby boy. A boy promised to be strong like ox (Dan and I are working on the challenges to this one). The smells and sights of Little India's wet market threatened to zoom zoom Zam Zam's out the wrong end, but we managed to escape with our stomach's intact. We saw enough to make anyone as allergic to fish as Dan is. After a day by the pool, a night at the American Club, and another day of miscellaneous meandering, we were mentally prepared to leave Singapore, but not Peggy's home cooking. If we had a few millions more, we might have even stayed a little longer and leased an apartment in one of the high rises shooting up around the city like pop corn. Go Revver, Go! Justin's humble thoughts: While Singapore is a city worth seeing, and definitely worth tasting, I would have my fair share of troubles in making it a permanent residence. Living in Singapore is like attending a high school trip to Disneyland, pushed in a stroller with one of those battery powered plastic safety fans (you wouldn't want to hurt yourself now). Nothing is real, everything is merely a ride, designed to keep you snug in your seat, destination set. A glossy remake. Yes, little India is smelly. Yes, it also sports more mustache rides than your average home made Sofen video, but with no beggars, no litter, and no ******* on the street. Sorry, no India. Chinatown and Arab Street's lively colors are pretty, but equally contrived, though what doesn't change from their originals, is that everyone sticks to their own. Singapore is the ultimate clique. Dressed, pressed, and looking like a billion bucks, Singapore is a doll of a city. The metro is spotless, air conditioned and complete with a sanitized British accent. The weather dial is stuck on perfect, and when it rains, it comes in easily predicted and refreshingly short bursts; a welcome commodity. Singapore is a cleaner and more modern Chicago planted in the middle of a lush Jungle. A jungle with no bugs. I repeat, no bugs. I think I spied one ant on my entire sojourn, and it was nowhere near a street. The citizens all speak english, type faster on a cell phone than most can on a computer, and dutifully obey all flashing commands. While you never actually see the police, you are told that big brother is always watching. Believing this is not a challenge, as his presence is continually reiterated by the thousands of signs informing you of the all the possible ways in which you can contribute to the government's private piggy. But in my schizophrenic mind, Singapore epitomizes the worst of societies goods. Singapore is the dark side, but instead of power, the lures are beauty and comfort - if those things interest you.
]]> Reflections from a cross country train ride — Butterworth, Malaysia http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1170837000/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1170837000/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1170837000/tpod.html Thu, 15 Feb 2007 04:42:14 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Butterworth, Malaysia

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About Our flight out of Kathmandu was rather uneventful. I had jockeyed for a window seat and had my face pressed against the glass throughout the turbulent liftoff. We emerged suddenly from the dense clouds and everyone on the other side of the plane gasped. I had picked the wrong side of the plane! I wasn't going to be denied, however. I scanned for watchful stewardesses and w/ the seat-belt light still glowing, and the plane still bouncing around, I scurried across the aisle and sat down on the floor in front of the emergency exit's portal window. I peered across a blanket of clouds and there they were... The enourmous craggy, snow capped peaks of the Himalayas. A solid row of peaks towering on the horizon as far as I could see in either direction. This time of year visibility is low in Nepal and one can only see the closest ridge of mountains from the ground- and routes to the larger peaks grow inaccessible in the colder months. But our plane had climbed above the layer of fog and there they were. I have been enchanted by the Himalayas ever since I was a boy and I wanted nothing more to visit the fabled Everest- the highest point in the world. It would have been virtually impossible for us to do it this time of year, though. I dismissed the notion that perhaps one of the peaks I could see through my porthole was Everest. A line of more than a half dozen tourists w/ their cameras at the ready had formed behind me and snapped me out of my daydream. I return to my seat. We were headed for South East Asia. Soon we would be out of our long pants, knock of North Face fleeces, and heavy shoes. I was ready fort he sun, the heat, my sandals and the beach! We were landing in Bangkok and leaving the next morning via a cross country train to Malaysia. I'm on that train now, somewhere in Thailand, nearing the border. The people here are smiley and friendly, the train is modern and clean, and the landscape outside is lush, tropical, and devoid of garbage. There is no doubt in my senses that we have left the Indian subcontinent. There are more westerners on this train than the sum of all the westerners we encountered in the past month. Perhaps that is what I'll remember most- take the most pride in- about India: India is HARD. It forces you to have to earn it, fight against it, struggle with it. Which offers you a more rewarding view?: hiking up the side of a mountain or taking the road up the back side? Nothing is taken for granted, nothing is given to you in India. Traveling in India probably gives you the most honest account of what the day to day lives of the people living in the country are like. And even this most-honest account is still a world away from what it must be like. As I spread out in my comfortable sleeping compartment on my way to Malaysia, my thoughts drift back to the train ride to Varanasi when 3 old women literally sat on me while I slept in my sleeping platform. This train sparkles from the scrubbing I saw it receive at the station, while our Indian trains crawled with rats. I am brimming with excitement for new experiences in the tourist friendly S.E. Asia, but those feelings will always be weighed against the hardships of India. See you in Malaysia!
]]> Don't let the bed bugs bite — Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171354860/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171354860/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171354860/tpod.html Wed, 14 Feb 2007 09:14:15 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Where I stayed
Le Village
(Kuala Lumpur hotels)


Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About Watch this episode here. Le Village, By Justin Trauben In Kuala Lumpur we stayed in an amazing little hostel in China Town called "Le Village." Part backpacker pitstop, part hippy commune, this place had an amazing mix of backpackers and from all over the world. Everyone hung out in the common area and stayed up late every night exchanging stories over a few drinks. There was one downside to "Le Villiage," a small price to pay. It was infested with enormous, nearly indestructible bed bugs that would nibble away at your flesh while you slept. In this episode, Dan wages war against one such bed bug (watch as it bounces off the wall after Dan's first flick, and returns from the spirit world on numerous occasions). Bed bugs aside, "Le Village" can be considered one of the most welcoming and memorable experiences of our trip. From the first moments, it was clear that she was not your normal hostel. It is only labeled by a less than adequately sized hand made sign that has no direct line of view with the street, hidden in the center of the maze that is China Town. After being buzzed in through the iron gate, and traversing the sea of shoes and sandals that occupy the two floor stairway, you are greeted by lounging guests, Manu Chao from the stereo, fresh tea, and a frenchman in dreads who, while he properly checked you in and took your money, you'll later learn does not work there. Finding an employee is not hard, but differentiating one from a customer can be as everyone seems to share equally in the work and relaxing. Backpackers are laying around chatting in various languages, and a girl reads to herself, swinging to the rhythm of the music in a suspended wicker chair, and scratching her legs more periodically than turning pages. The back room is half full of people poking around the refrigerator, pouring free coffee and tea, and watching their laundry spin as though it were giving a sermon. The walls are over-populated with vibrant artworks of entanglement, and before you know it, you're stuck in the whole web. While we only stayed in "Le Village" for two nights, it felt like a lifetime. The nights were spent passing around communal bottles of Pepe Lopez Tequilla while swapping stories from all corners of the earth. Intense games of chess raged throughout the room between people who often barely spoke the same language. Through all of this, there was always the scratching of bed bug bites. Limbs were yours, his, and hers. It did not matter, as long as you appropriately mixed nail pressure and circular motion. We descended the overpopulated staircase and emerged from our oaisis in the bustling section of Kuala Lumpur, and sourly left for Singapore the next day. We left with plans and hopes to return, and look forward to initiating an entirely new group of victims at Le Village. Take off your shoes, forget you have skin, and jump in.
]]> The Famous Mr. Low — Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171168320/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171168320/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171168320/tpod.html Sun, 11 Feb 2007 04:34:59 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Where I stayed
75 Guesthouse
(Kuala Lumpur hotels)


Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About Watch this episode here. Our first stop in Malaysia is an island in the north-west called Penang- a short ferry ride from our train stop at Butterworth. The island- and the country in general- is an eclectic mix of Malay, Chinese and Indian cultures all smushed together. Without a guidebook to illuminate our path, we were wandering blind. We finally latched on to a few British chaps on the ferry, and followed their lead towards Chinatown. Under the blazing Malaysian sun and through the unforgiving heat, we arrived at 75 Guesthouse. Foregoing our own bathroom and aircon, we bargained down the price. We became quickly enamored with the hostel manager: Mr. Low. A cartoonist could not have created a more stereotypical character, and we relish in the opportunity to share this one man gem with you in this episode. Dinner and drinks ensued. Our british companions led us again, this time to a fish and chips style joint known as Soho. The beer was not cheap, but Guinness is a priceless commodity. We debated England's accomplishments with colonization, focusing on the island in which we now occupied, as well as to the merits of the band The Police. They defended the latter with their lives. Our first night ended with a bottle of sake and some dumpling soup from a street vendor. We swapped contact info, and sweat ourselves to sleep. The next day we wandered aimlessly about, watched monks playing badmitten on the streets, and argued with every book seller in Chinatown over the price of a Lonely Planet guidebook. In the heat of our last battle, we were interrupted by a friendly British gentleman who was in the process of purchasing a new one as well. A few beers, and a few stories later, we found ourselves with a free copy. He was traveling with his wife, and they were on their way to Australia, New Zealand, and finally America. We told them all there was to know about the US, and they told us not to get mugged by transvestites in Vietnam. (Laurich, I gave them your address in LA and promised them a futon if need be. Don't let me down). With our train ride to KL leaving in the evening, we said our goodbyes to Mr. Low, and ferried our way back to town. We met a chess playing Canadian at the station and taught him a few lessons of respect. The train ride was as comfortable as can be and we awoke rested in Kuala Lumpur. The story of Le Village coming soon...
]]> Last Impressions, By Jen — Penang, Malaysia http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171036380/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171036380/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1171036380/tpod.html Fri, 09 Feb 2007 15:55:38 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Penang, Malaysia

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About Last Impressions: by Jen Thaxton Boarding the Qatar Airways jet was bittersweet. I had just left my simple, care-free, and adventurous lifestyle to return to various commitments I have back in the US. This, compounded with the fact that Dan and Justin were headed to the beach, made it difficult to accept my departure. On the other hand, India and, to a lesser extent, Nepal, is extremely difficult. Perhaps a bit cocky from my experience in Latin America, I thought I was fully prepared to face overwhelming poverty and hardships of Southern Asia. The actual conditions, however, are worlds apart from anything I have ever seen. India is vibrant, loud, and uncensored. The people are bold and unapologetic. Audaciously beaded saris mask the timidity of the Indian women. Men stare intrepidly at passersby. Marigolds and small red roses decorate shrines just steps away from streets that are also stained with human waste. Maybe it was the language barrier, or the distinct cultural habits, but it was difficult to relate to and understand in any way the intricate Hindi traditions. As a western woman, there were many times when I felt scorned, and was glad for the protection that Dan and Justin afforded. I have never once felt that way, even traveling in other heavily male-dominated cultures. But India also has a sort of innocence about it. The whole experience seems so incredible now that I have left. Looking at pictures makes me nostalgic for the delicious food, the noisy streets and the cold showers. My best memories are from the most uncomfortable moments when we just had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation: the crowded trains, the smelly markets, and the cheap, fried food and the incessant music. I'm back in Ann Arbor, finishing up school and hanging out with my friends (and Dan and Justin's friends). The familiarity of home is comforting, but I would be back in Asia in a second if I could be.
]]> One Month in Asia! — Bangkok, Thailand http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1170643380/tpod.html http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1170643380/tpod.html#comment Travel Blogs http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/vlogabond/vlogabond/1170643380/tpod.html Mon, 05 Feb 2007 02:47:39 +0000 Vlogabond: Two Lost Souls, One Incredible Journey.
Bangkok, Thailand

Vlogabond Home | Connections | Map | Forum | FAQ | About Just a quick post (and a new map pin for Thailand)... We have officially been in Asia for 1 month. What a wild month it has been! India and Nepal are incredible countries. Life there is so different from anything we had ever been exposed to. We've just flown to Thailand and will be continuing on to Malaysia today by train. Over the next few months, we want to tour Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam.
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