Captain’s log...... our boeing 747 has sustained minimal damage from the clingon attack we will have to stop and refuel our gullets in Australia and gather provisions as well as take in the local sites.............. (Star Trek was great!!!)
Our flights from Tokyo International left at similar times but where our oneworld tickets predetermined that we have a stopover at Brisbane to then catch an internal flight to Cairns using the infamous Qantas Airlines, the Mac would take their sister company Jetstar straight to Cairns. As Bernie would land in Cairns first we were expecting him to have a taxi upon arrival ready to drive us to our booked accommodation. Of course not even the simplest of arrangements went according to plan. Having arrived at the domestic terminal we were expecting Bernie to be waiting at the arrivals area preferably with a bottle of the fizzy stuff. We waited 15 mins and collectively we reached to the same conclusion that Bernie had not even thought about coming to meet us at the domestic terminal and to be more precise that he hadn’t even made it outside. As we walked to the international terminal which for the record was deserted we found the Mac curled up in the corner of the waiting area catching some shut eye. Let us hope that Bernie never becomes prime minister of Nigeria as he is so predictable that an assassin wouldn’t need much of an IQ in order to get in the mind frame of his target.
Ok we were all in a gigantic ford falcon on our way to Gilligans Backpackers Cairns. As we drove from the very small Cairns airport into town I must say that I was not impressed at all with the area even less the architecture. This is Australia, a country which didn’t even exist until 300 years ago when a Captain Cook came across New Zealand in search of the mythical southern continent. I would try my best to take a neutral stand point and to put my experiences with Australians in London to one side.
I had never really thought about what to expect from Australia, of course beer would play a dense role in the grand scheme of things. Seriously I thought the east coast of Australia was one long sandy beach. I will address this later!. Having spent 3 days in Cairns which in my opinion was 2 days too long, there isn’t really much to say. There is nothing to see in Cairns but I hear there is much to do apart from going on the taky pub crawls which make you guzzle cheap alcohol and perform sex positions with strangers (which for some of the readers i.e. Dom Adlem is bliss). In fact the beach area makes some of the worst stretches of coast look more appealing. What they do instead which completely bamboozles me, is to you use a manmade lagoon which overlooks the coast. We went out every night in Cairns, it was really “the same shit but different toilet”. The hostel was really nice especially for the price we paid, with the inclusion of Bernie searching for rooms for 4 is really economical and relatively easier.
I guess some of the aristocratic snobbery from backpackers in Japan had rubbed off on us and we rented a very decent car instead of travelling with the rest of the cattle on the Australian Greyhound busses. Having two black men with a say on the vehicle of choice proved difficult, where Mark and I wanted space and practicality, Bernie and Weli wanted rims and hydraulics. We wanted Toyota Corrolas and they wanted 4x4 Jeeps. Well we settled for a Toyota Sportivo Camry, it was a dam nice car, I am writing this having just rented a Toyota Yaris. We had an intricate plan for our east coast experience. We would drive to Arlie Beach and visit Whitsunday Islands times two nights then drive to Brisbane time 2 nights and finally Byron Bay times two nights before returning Bernie to Brisbane Airport where he would return to Europe to talk of his travels. This did not happen, not even close in hindsight what we did proved to be much more beneficial for Bernie. Australia is huge this cannot be underestimated having driven well over 7000km I really appreciate its size. We drove for 4 hours to Townsville where we stayed in a really nice hostel for one night before setting out to Arlie Beach. The hostel had a great atmosphere down to the individual who ran and maintained the building. His name escapes me but he definitely made us feel right at home instantly.
The drive from Townsville to Arlie beach was a monster. As Russian KGB from Rounders famously said “he lays down a monster.... the f@ck you lay that down”. Guys the road infrastructure in Australia is woeful making an English country land look like route 66. Along the east coast of Australia we have pretty much one road connecting the towns such as Cairns and Townsville in the North with the more prominent cities such as Newcastle, Sydney and Melbourne in the South. This route is known as the Pacific Highway or alternatively Bruce Highway. Now the word Highway has been desecrated on every Australian road sign because by definition a highway is surely a free flowing road i.e. dual carriage way similar to our motorways in England. To be more truthful the roads are terrible making the long journeys such as Brisbane to Sydney. The road is ancient and passes through every settlement and town along the east coast which results in numerous variable speed limits. For instance you leave a relatively small town and find yourself cruising at a comfortable speed (120kmh) to then suddenly be told to reduce to 30 as it is a school zone. This occurs time after time making road rage an everyday occurrence here down under. For my second rant I shall focus my attention on the criminals that call themselves car rental companies mainly Hertz, Avis etc. The area of the rental agreement that I will address in this entry is “Young Person Surcharge”. By definition this surcharge is applied to all customers under 25 years of age. This has no bearing on the experience of the driver, simply age. I am fed up of paying a young person’s surcharge to the crook rental companies. I have news for them; I am 25 in October which means they will never claim that extortionate charge from me ever again. So where were we, oh that’s right Brisbane would be the scene of radical sports. The trip from Arlie Beach to Brisbane was broken up and segmented with failures and successes to tediously boring to discuss.
We rented a place near Story Bridge in Brisbane in a backpackers place called Bunk, very nicely nestled in Chinatown. Did you know 1 in every 3 people are Chinese? The apartment was more like a bachelors pad and perfect for the four of us to hold foreplay (predrinks) before nights out. I have failed to mention the sessions of pro evolution that were had, alas that is a story for another blog entry. Whilst Mark and Weli spooned each other in their quaint queen sized bedroom, Bernie and I wondered the streets of Brisbane. We walked a couple of km over Story Bridge and caught a ferry across the River to the CBD, the weather was perfect and the site line was great. We got off at the CBD terminal which had great early 1900 colonial architecture very Pall Mall like. Brisbane has a very wholesome feel to it, a great place to live. By wholesome I mean very clean and pleasant. A farmers market was being held that sunny Friday afternoon it made me miss home. We both indulged on huge German sausage style hot dogs with plentiful amounts of sour crout. We simply just got lost in Brisbane which in all honesty is quite hard to do. After picking up a free tourist map we saw that the infamous XXXX beer brewery was close by. We didn’t hesitate and we made haste to the brewery where we booked for two on the brewery tour. It was an insightful tour giving a comprehensive history of beer from its origins right up to present day production. I think it is something that all beer lovers should read up on. For example do the phrase “he got away scott free” originates from the Tavern days in England where a scot tax was charged on all beer consumed within the London region, therefore people who consumed beer in the countryside were said to have gotten away scot free. You live and learn.... and then die and forget it all.
Bernie’s holiday was coming to a closure and I could tell that he wasn’t completely happy with his trip in the sense that it missed an extraordinary event. This was swiftly dealt with once we had booked the ultimate skydiving experience over Brisbane. We would drop 14,000 feet, which is approximately 60 seconds of free fall from an aeroplane. I cannot speak on behalf of Weli and Bernie but for me it was an amazing experience and I will struggle to describe it thus I have decided to leave it to all your imaginations or alternatively you could check out my dvd. It all happened so fast, one minute we were looking at the brochure the next minute we were getting in a propeller plane painted green with a dragons face climbing rapidly to the desired altitude. Bernie dived first, then all of a sudden I see Weli being thrown out like a bag of spuds, one second he is there the next he is gone. Shit I am next...........That was the pinnacle of Bernie’s visit for me and I am guessing that Bernie feels the same way. The remaining time we had in Brisbane consisted mainly of site seeing and walks around the city. The plan was to drop Bernie at the airport and for Mark and I to drive to Sydney where we would return to London for 10 days. As they say the rest his history.
Saturday, 30 May 2009
Wednesday, 27 May 2009
Tokyo by Filipe Martins
The short stay in Shanghai was due to Mr Bernard Molokwo arrival from London to Tokyo. We were to catch Japanese Airlines for the first time; it would prove to be a nice insight to JAL as we would be taking a considerably longer flight to Cairns 10 days later. Tokyo airport was a stylish airport typically found in 1st world countries following the usual architecture found on most new international airports across Europe. Once we had landed we all switched our mobile phones on inside the plane to find that UK mobile phones do not work in Japan. A new dilemma developed, how would we communicate with Bernard once we had passed immigration?. Not too concerned at first as Bernie was due to land at least one hour before us, so we presumed that he would be waiting for us at the exit. Bernie’s plane landed a clear one hour before our flight to Tokyo yet he managed to be a clear 45 minutes later than us in reaching the exit. We had asked the young lady at the information desk to do a call out for a one Mr Bernie Mac to no avail.
Once we were all together at the departures exit, the Tokyo holiday was to begin. Our first exposure and experience with the powerful Japanese Yen would occur instantly. We had been monitoring the exchange rate for almost 4 months. We had heard numerous nightmare stories from the very few backpackers who had ventured to Japan of the high cost of living. A taxi from the airport to Tokyo central would be 130£, that is right pound sterling. We made the conversion various times as we felt we may have made a fundamental error. It was in fact the cost so we pursued other avenues. We took the fast train instead taking us to Shinjuku central station, a place we would become more and more familiar with. Japan is a well run efficient machine, the level of organisation is unbelievable and warrants a 16 hour flight from London Heathrow. The trains are beautiful with modern stations to match. The train map looks more like a big bowl of spaghetti Bolognese, being very complicated at first. The sheer number of stations on the network is mind blowing. It put Bernie the transport for London engineer in a gay state.
We had a gay old time on the train to central Japan, excuse the second use of the word gay. We talked about our plane journeys to Tokyo, the extortionate taxi costs and other such educational discussions that we have become accustomed to (bullshit). When we arrived to the capsule hotel we were all anxious to see what they would be like. A warning I would give to anyone travelling to Tokyo who is planning on sleeping in affordable accommodation, make sure you book in advance as there is a distinct shortage of cheap accommodation so demand is high. The capsules were a bit old and where placed in a room as opposed to stacked perpendicular into the wall. Each capsule was fitted with a radio, reading light and a television. On the right hand side would be a panel with a number of buttons which would control all the gadgets. Although quite old these capsules 15 years ago would have been at the vanguard of technology.
Bernie brought with him a new lease of life that the group desperately needed, this manifested itself in the form of drinking in bars. Tokyo has a real city nightlife, it resembles more of a London nightlife than one in Bangkok. The main streets are a cocktail of neon lights each club competing with their rival neighbours for the attention of passersby. The two areas that posses the main bulk of Tokyo’s nightlife are Rompongi and Shinjuku respectively. The Japanese Rail Pass would be the best manor in which we could discover Japan, very similar to the Inter Rail Pass in Europe. I will now issue a warning to all who intend on visiting Japan or those who are even in the imaginary stage of planning such a trip. YOU CANNOT BUY THE JAPANESE RAIL PASS IN JAPAN. It sounds ludicrous that you cannot buy a rail pass giving you privileged access to a wide range of bullet train services at a discount rate to the majority of Japan. The individual costs of individual journeys would mean we would have to resort to mugging old very wealthy ladies or carrying out more traditional bank robberies. We all agreed that we would stay in Tokyo and enjoy city life. This little technicality really confused me; apparently you may buy a voucher i.e. from an accredited Japanese tourist office which may then be exchanged in Japan for said Rail Pass. This in my opinion is a trap, how on earth was I to be knowledgeable on such technicalities.
Our trip to Japan very luckily coincided with the infamous cherry tree blossom that is widely celebrated across all three islands. It is truly a perfect site that all should see, I would recommend going for a stroll through Yoyogi Park where all the youngsters and students celebrate the blossom by having parties involving large quantities of alcohol. There is a magnificent mood during the 5 or so days during the blossom. Site seeing consisted mainly of getting lost in Tokyo, which may I add can be achieved with considerable ease. We visited the palace and various museums i.e. science, history etc. Tokyo is littered with fast food joints on every single corner, they are very different to ones found in London. On top of the McDonalds and Starbucks there is also sushi, tempora soba and generic Japanese fast food places. The ticketing system I find makes the whole experience even faster as the name suggests “fast food”. One select his or hers meal at the machine and insert the money where a ticket it then issued. You must then proceed to handing the ticket over to the chef behind the counter who will have a noodle or rice based dish served up in front of your eyes in minutes. You will never pass a Japanese fast food joint and find it completely empty, no matter the time you are guaranteed to find a Jap slurping noodles away, with his face buried in the bowl.
Sushi dominated my Japanese diet heavily, as I took every opportunity to eat sushi. I was on a suicide mission to overdose on the stuff. The best sushi I have ever had in my life was had in Tokyo. Bernie and I after a night out in Rompongi caught the first train/metro to the famous fish market at around 5am. We had read on various websites namely wikitravel that it is a great bit of site seeing to do. We explored the fish market with great fascination, I have never seen such a variety of fish. There is mass confusion at chaos for an amateurs eye, but after an hour or so the mass chaos suddenly becomes more transparent and starts to resemble a system of pure efficiency. Little fork lift trucks pass by at rapid speed taking no prisoners, just fish. Fisherman are gutting and cutting, sellers are poking their noses and buying and finally tourists are just plainly getting in the way. The fish looked of the highest quality; I have never seen such tender red tuna fish steaks in all my life. My only regret is that I did not have a nice kitchen to take such fish to really test my culinary skills which are meagre to say the least. Instead Bernie and I had a go at tasting some of the finest sushi in Japan. Some of the most famous sushi houses can be found within the fish markets compound. There were queues running right around the corner being told that it would take at least 45mins we almost gave in, but fortunately we found the courage to soldier through. Finally we sat down at the counter similar to a bar where a lady would drop two cups of scalding hot green tea, ahhh sobering juice. The chef then commenced to make our set menu breakfast; the following experience was had with my eyes closed. The fish was exquisite and I shall never forget the coldness of the fish not from refrigeration but from the sea. The queuing seemed very worthwhile and I would not hesitate to do so again.
The second capsule experience was more what I would call a typical experience. I had always imagined capsule hotels being such that they housed 1000 people in capsules stacked in rows of 3 along long corridors. This was exactly that. Capsules in Tokyo are rarely mixed and so this proved to be a man’s world. Not just a luxury capsule where one can rest and enjoy a very quiet night’s sleep in Tokyo. It is also a spa for men, the fourth floor was an area where us men could walk around naked with hot tubs, Jacuzzis and saunas were available. I had one of the best showers up until now at the Shinjuku capsule hotel. There were beauty rooms with mirrors and every sort of product a man could need i.e. face cream, body cream, hair spray etc
I would say the failure in obtaining the Japanese Rail Pass meant that we spent too much time in Tokyo, yes there was considerably more to do but this came at a substantial cost. Tokyo is a very costly place to visit made even more so by the terrible exchange rate discussed earlier. We had a few crazy nights out in Tokyo managing to avoid the yakuza triads. One of the best nights would have to be the karaoke night. This as everyone knows is an extremely popular way that Japanese spend their soirées and I would have to say I went to town that night. In fact we all did, most places offer a room and all you can drink deals. For approximately 20£ per head you can get a room with a television, a couple of mics and a phone. It was a great night apart from the Swedish girls who were sharing the booth with us. They of course in true immature fashion had too much alcohol and thus the following occurred; drunken behaviour, incoherent conversation and plenty of vomit. I find girl slivering around in their vomit to not be a very classy affair, but who am I to judge it is all good fun in the end. These girls are exactly what I referred to previously with regards to snobbish backpackers and most backpackers who visit Japan consider themselves to be the aristocracy of backpacking. The girls attempted to speak Japanese at every possible moment; of course it was not this that annoyed me but the constant dumping of Japanese on Weli, Mark and I. We didn’t understand a word for all we know they could have been saying complete bullshit.
As the reader of this blog you may be asking yourselves “they had 10 days, why only Tokyo?” well the main reason ignoring many ins and outs and what have yous (Big Lebowski et al) Tokyo is just like London. Tokyo has a strong magnetic effect that binds you to the capital. How many relatives and friends have spoken of visiting the lands in the northern territory (Scotland & Northern England)? Now compare that number to how many that have actually gone on to visit said places. Tokyo is interesting due to the distinct original culture it possesses making it not as diverse in terms of people compared to Paris. To conclude visiting Tokyo will absorb even the most ignorant traveller i.e. football lout who has no interests except for getting drunk, violence and singing renditions of “no surrender to the IRA”. There is something for everyone whether it is the strange but familiar nights out or the wonderful world of Japanese cuisine.
Once we were all together at the departures exit, the Tokyo holiday was to begin. Our first exposure and experience with the powerful Japanese Yen would occur instantly. We had been monitoring the exchange rate for almost 4 months. We had heard numerous nightmare stories from the very few backpackers who had ventured to Japan of the high cost of living. A taxi from the airport to Tokyo central would be 130£, that is right pound sterling. We made the conversion various times as we felt we may have made a fundamental error. It was in fact the cost so we pursued other avenues. We took the fast train instead taking us to Shinjuku central station, a place we would become more and more familiar with. Japan is a well run efficient machine, the level of organisation is unbelievable and warrants a 16 hour flight from London Heathrow. The trains are beautiful with modern stations to match. The train map looks more like a big bowl of spaghetti Bolognese, being very complicated at first. The sheer number of stations on the network is mind blowing. It put Bernie the transport for London engineer in a gay state.
We had a gay old time on the train to central Japan, excuse the second use of the word gay. We talked about our plane journeys to Tokyo, the extortionate taxi costs and other such educational discussions that we have become accustomed to (bullshit). When we arrived to the capsule hotel we were all anxious to see what they would be like. A warning I would give to anyone travelling to Tokyo who is planning on sleeping in affordable accommodation, make sure you book in advance as there is a distinct shortage of cheap accommodation so demand is high. The capsules were a bit old and where placed in a room as opposed to stacked perpendicular into the wall. Each capsule was fitted with a radio, reading light and a television. On the right hand side would be a panel with a number of buttons which would control all the gadgets. Although quite old these capsules 15 years ago would have been at the vanguard of technology.
Bernie brought with him a new lease of life that the group desperately needed, this manifested itself in the form of drinking in bars. Tokyo has a real city nightlife, it resembles more of a London nightlife than one in Bangkok. The main streets are a cocktail of neon lights each club competing with their rival neighbours for the attention of passersby. The two areas that posses the main bulk of Tokyo’s nightlife are Rompongi and Shinjuku respectively. The Japanese Rail Pass would be the best manor in which we could discover Japan, very similar to the Inter Rail Pass in Europe. I will now issue a warning to all who intend on visiting Japan or those who are even in the imaginary stage of planning such a trip. YOU CANNOT BUY THE JAPANESE RAIL PASS IN JAPAN. It sounds ludicrous that you cannot buy a rail pass giving you privileged access to a wide range of bullet train services at a discount rate to the majority of Japan. The individual costs of individual journeys would mean we would have to resort to mugging old very wealthy ladies or carrying out more traditional bank robberies. We all agreed that we would stay in Tokyo and enjoy city life. This little technicality really confused me; apparently you may buy a voucher i.e. from an accredited Japanese tourist office which may then be exchanged in Japan for said Rail Pass. This in my opinion is a trap, how on earth was I to be knowledgeable on such technicalities.
Our trip to Japan very luckily coincided with the infamous cherry tree blossom that is widely celebrated across all three islands. It is truly a perfect site that all should see, I would recommend going for a stroll through Yoyogi Park where all the youngsters and students celebrate the blossom by having parties involving large quantities of alcohol. There is a magnificent mood during the 5 or so days during the blossom. Site seeing consisted mainly of getting lost in Tokyo, which may I add can be achieved with considerable ease. We visited the palace and various museums i.e. science, history etc. Tokyo is littered with fast food joints on every single corner, they are very different to ones found in London. On top of the McDonalds and Starbucks there is also sushi, tempora soba and generic Japanese fast food places. The ticketing system I find makes the whole experience even faster as the name suggests “fast food”. One select his or hers meal at the machine and insert the money where a ticket it then issued. You must then proceed to handing the ticket over to the chef behind the counter who will have a noodle or rice based dish served up in front of your eyes in minutes. You will never pass a Japanese fast food joint and find it completely empty, no matter the time you are guaranteed to find a Jap slurping noodles away, with his face buried in the bowl.
Sushi dominated my Japanese diet heavily, as I took every opportunity to eat sushi. I was on a suicide mission to overdose on the stuff. The best sushi I have ever had in my life was had in Tokyo. Bernie and I after a night out in Rompongi caught the first train/metro to the famous fish market at around 5am. We had read on various websites namely wikitravel that it is a great bit of site seeing to do. We explored the fish market with great fascination, I have never seen such a variety of fish. There is mass confusion at chaos for an amateurs eye, but after an hour or so the mass chaos suddenly becomes more transparent and starts to resemble a system of pure efficiency. Little fork lift trucks pass by at rapid speed taking no prisoners, just fish. Fisherman are gutting and cutting, sellers are poking their noses and buying and finally tourists are just plainly getting in the way. The fish looked of the highest quality; I have never seen such tender red tuna fish steaks in all my life. My only regret is that I did not have a nice kitchen to take such fish to really test my culinary skills which are meagre to say the least. Instead Bernie and I had a go at tasting some of the finest sushi in Japan. Some of the most famous sushi houses can be found within the fish markets compound. There were queues running right around the corner being told that it would take at least 45mins we almost gave in, but fortunately we found the courage to soldier through. Finally we sat down at the counter similar to a bar where a lady would drop two cups of scalding hot green tea, ahhh sobering juice. The chef then commenced to make our set menu breakfast; the following experience was had with my eyes closed. The fish was exquisite and I shall never forget the coldness of the fish not from refrigeration but from the sea. The queuing seemed very worthwhile and I would not hesitate to do so again.
The second capsule experience was more what I would call a typical experience. I had always imagined capsule hotels being such that they housed 1000 people in capsules stacked in rows of 3 along long corridors. This was exactly that. Capsules in Tokyo are rarely mixed and so this proved to be a man’s world. Not just a luxury capsule where one can rest and enjoy a very quiet night’s sleep in Tokyo. It is also a spa for men, the fourth floor was an area where us men could walk around naked with hot tubs, Jacuzzis and saunas were available. I had one of the best showers up until now at the Shinjuku capsule hotel. There were beauty rooms with mirrors and every sort of product a man could need i.e. face cream, body cream, hair spray etc
I would say the failure in obtaining the Japanese Rail Pass meant that we spent too much time in Tokyo, yes there was considerably more to do but this came at a substantial cost. Tokyo is a very costly place to visit made even more so by the terrible exchange rate discussed earlier. We had a few crazy nights out in Tokyo managing to avoid the yakuza triads. One of the best nights would have to be the karaoke night. This as everyone knows is an extremely popular way that Japanese spend their soirées and I would have to say I went to town that night. In fact we all did, most places offer a room and all you can drink deals. For approximately 20£ per head you can get a room with a television, a couple of mics and a phone. It was a great night apart from the Swedish girls who were sharing the booth with us. They of course in true immature fashion had too much alcohol and thus the following occurred; drunken behaviour, incoherent conversation and plenty of vomit. I find girl slivering around in their vomit to not be a very classy affair, but who am I to judge it is all good fun in the end. These girls are exactly what I referred to previously with regards to snobbish backpackers and most backpackers who visit Japan consider themselves to be the aristocracy of backpacking. The girls attempted to speak Japanese at every possible moment; of course it was not this that annoyed me but the constant dumping of Japanese on Weli, Mark and I. We didn’t understand a word for all we know they could have been saying complete bullshit.
As the reader of this blog you may be asking yourselves “they had 10 days, why only Tokyo?” well the main reason ignoring many ins and outs and what have yous (Big Lebowski et al) Tokyo is just like London. Tokyo has a strong magnetic effect that binds you to the capital. How many relatives and friends have spoken of visiting the lands in the northern territory (Scotland & Northern England)? Now compare that number to how many that have actually gone on to visit said places. Tokyo is interesting due to the distinct original culture it possesses making it not as diverse in terms of people compared to Paris. To conclude visiting Tokyo will absorb even the most ignorant traveller i.e. football lout who has no interests except for getting drunk, violence and singing renditions of “no surrender to the IRA”. There is something for everyone whether it is the strange but familiar nights out or the wonderful world of Japanese cuisine.
Saturday, 11 April 2009
Hong Kong & Macau
Hong Kong makes me remember a guy in my secondary school called Johny Wong and a little song we would sing every time he would pass in the corridor “Johny Wong play ping pong in Hong Kong”. Yet another financial centre in Asia similarly to the very clean cut Singapore. We had been travelling without the use of lonely planet guide book for some time now, however I did have the Hong Kong & Macau edition as my brother gave it to me before I left. It was around 6 years old and it is surprising just how much prices have gone up since then. We decided to stay in Kowloon due to necessity as the Hong Kong Rugby Sevens made it impossible to find cheap accommodation on Hong Kong Island. The room was designed for 5 feet tall Nepalese monks, it was miniscule. Privacy was minimal as the glass door which acted as the barrier between the toilet and the room was neither sound proof nor smell proof. Ahh the glamour’s of the life of an international backpacker extraordinaire. Kowloon is definitely worth a look with its many tourist traps and shops selling everything from fake Rolex watches to Gucci ipod accessories. We arrived around 7pm, Mark and I proceeded to do a reconnaissance of the area i.e. Mark would locate all fast food outlets within walking distance from HQ and report to Captain Elmi. We found a great road to grab food; it had all types of restaurants covering most Asian cuisines from Thai to Vietnamese. Mark and I went for the wholesome option which was noodles. The food in China is not my favourite I find it is either boiled or fried, black or white with no grey areas i.e. grilled for example. With regards to taste it doesn’t really stimulate my taste buds into a frenzy like the Vietnamese food. That night we kept a low profile and had a quiet one in order to best recuperate our financial losses incurred in Singapore. We did find a 7-11 adjacent to the building where we were residing, it seemed to be the local hangout for Nigerian men where they are free to drink beer and hold discussions. Before it escapes me the building where our so called hotel was located in was a communal building with apartments, hotels, hostels and small businesses. Ghetto would be a very nice word to describe it, I am confident enough to say that that is how a local estate agent would advertise the property. I am guessing that he or she would focus on location location location.
After a good night’s sleep we were up and ready to go, of course it was not 9am like normal tourists but approaching 2 instead. Our first real day in Hong Kong the so called “Singapore but on speed” city. The city definitely had a buzz about itself largely due to the Rugby Sevens, the Hong Kong tournament being very famous for its unparallel atmosphere to say that of Dubai. We took the metro to Central which is located in the heart of Hong Kong Island as the name suggests. The metro in HK is world class, making the Parisian metro look second rate in comparison. It is fast, slick, clean and frequent, all the attributes that I think a metro should be rated on. They have been using an oyster card system for well over 12 years, called an octopus card. The key difference is that this card can be used everywhere from buying cigarettes (or a gentlemen’s magazine) in 7-11 to paying your parking meter on the road. It replaces the need for coins; it is something I think London should already have. We all got an octopus card and certainly noticed how effective they are once we left and took the metro in Shanghai. There are many high rises of corporate banks and international companies in Hong Kong Island giving rise to its famous skyline. When you are there you can definitely feel just how densely packed the area is, quite claustrophobic. Many people who want to live a spitting distance away from Central tend to live in the Mid Levels area where it is impossible to see what the weather is like from you apartment without sticking your head out and looking in between the two towers that sandwich the building. I find this quite extraordinary as a person who grow up in London because even in a crime ridden ghetto estate in say Peckham you can still see the sky from your window.
As mentioned before, it was the all famous rugby sevens. We set out to borrow, steal or beg for tickets constantly reshuffling and streamlining the personal finances so as to be prepared both emotionally and financially to pay a ticket tout an extortionate sum of money. On Friday Mark decided to stay in and attend to some r and r, Weli and I had itchy feet and our plans lay elsewhere. I contacted a family friend called Hugo who works for a prestigious wine trader company and in one sms text he managed to write in the most concise English all the hotspots and hip places to go out. We grabbed the metro towards Lockheart Road which is a strip full of bars, coincidentally the all famous bar that appears in the James Bond Man with the Golden Gun. We examined each bar for both atmosphere and people; it would be completely dominated by rugger buggers. I paid around 6£ sterling for a bottle of San Miguel, which explains why 7-11 looked more like Favela Chic on a Friday night than a convenient store. So from there on in we would grab drinks from 7-11 and just walk into the busy bars as if they had been purchased there. This might not be acceptable in terms of bar etiquette, oh well. That night we met many people ranging from Swiss traders to Australian boggans which we avoided like a case of chronic Black Death. All in all it was a great night, we were feeling pretty confident at 6am that if we made it to the stadium within the hour we would find many early bird ticket touts selling tickets. Optimism became disbelief almost instantaneously when we found the surrounding roads well patrolled by the police. My mum had told me the night before that some friends, that is Hugo’s sister Lucy maybe able to get me tickets so when I got back home I kept two phones close to my ears, it looked like a blackberry call centre.
At 10 am the phone rang with great news, I had tickets to the Saturday games RESULLLTT. I was already dressed due to the amount consumed on my part the previous night. Sprayed some aftershave and shifted swiftly towards the stadium. Met Justin, Lucy’s husband and made our way to the BNP (French Bank) box with everything included, it was amazing free beer and food. It didn’t feel so wrong sipping that free beer at 11am, in free beer drops like warm honey down the gullet. I mixed around and got to know some nice people, the crowd were mainly men who seem to get a free pass every year from their wives. The day was amazing I saw Portugal get comprehensively beaten by the Pumas. After the Saturday games ended I was determined to get tickets for the finals. I had a great time on Saturday night meeting Justin in a restaurant for some beers and food where I got to meet some of his pals. I ended up at a place called Red Dragon until 6 am.
On Sunday we phoned Arnold Wong were we arranged to go for dinner and some site seeing. We walked around the shopping district. The shops are arranged by what they sell i.e. all trainer shops on one road and clothing shops on another and so on. The intense use of lighting makes this a great place to walk around at night time. We were impressed by the amount of electronics; it was possible to pick up 32 gb usb pen disks, which I never even knew existed. We ate and talked for hours it was good to see Arnold.
On Monday night I had dinner at Lucy’s flat, the food was beautiful plus I could drop all my laundry and have it nice and fresh for the next chapter of my travels which would be Shanghai. We went to Macau the following day the casino land which has overtaken Las Vegas over the last few years. It has been described as the Lisboa of the orient. That morning we made our way to the harbour near Central to and boarded the next ferry to Macau. The flying cats are similar to those used in Athens and the Islands. The journey took approximately 45 mins and cost around 15£ which I thought was pretty reasonable. Upon arrival it was very strange to see all the sings in Portuguese then Chinese and finally English. WE had splashed out on accommodation in Macau having booked Starworld Casino Hotel, the tallest hotel in Macau. That won’t be for long as next door was under construction and the building was at least 5 floors higher. We booked for two but of course we crammed three into the very nice and spacious hotel room which had break taking views of Macau and all the casinos in the area. The food in Macau is great, very influenced by Portuguese cuisine which made me a happy man as I could put the bloody noodles and rice aside and feast on some nice bacalhau grelhado. I would put the grilled cod that I ate in La Loarca as one the all time best that I have had, they are lucky in that they get great fish in the China Sea. Macau involved some site seeing as the old town is very beautiful littered with old Churches, ruins and a fort. Once again we went to the history museums which were dominated by the Portuguese exploration and their achievements. All in all there was a lot of relaxation and gambling (on very small budgets of course). The routette royally shafted me I lost 40£ in minutes and called it day. I returned on Friday to HK earlier so that I could collect my laundry all nice and pressed from Lucy. She was kind of enough to prepare me a packed lunch for the 19 hour train journey to Shanghai. I felt like a school kid again being given a packed lunch. What makes that gesture even nicer is that on the train they would not except HK dollars choosing instead to only accept Chinese Yuan. This meant we would or should I say Mark and Weli would not be able to eat for 19 hours hahaha I gave them the tube of Pringles which Mark duly dispatched into the black obis that is his stomach as I tucked in to the lovely pork sausages that Lucy gave me.
We had a funny episode concerning Shanghai and Chinese visas. The visa was so dam expensive totalling 100£. It was made even dearer as we would only be in Shanghai for approx 35 hours not making it worth whatsoever. The British seem to overcharge the Chinese when they get UK visas so as governments work on the basis of tit for tat they had done the same to UK passport holders. I must say that the HK to Shanghai train service was pretty slick and I pretty much slept the whole way through. The train was fully booked so Weli, Mark and I had to settle with being in different cabins it worked wonders as Weli the insomniac would not keep me up or Mark the serial Pringles muncher would not be masticating crisps the whole night.
After a good night’s sleep we were up and ready to go, of course it was not 9am like normal tourists but approaching 2 instead. Our first real day in Hong Kong the so called “Singapore but on speed” city. The city definitely had a buzz about itself largely due to the Rugby Sevens, the Hong Kong tournament being very famous for its unparallel atmosphere to say that of Dubai. We took the metro to Central which is located in the heart of Hong Kong Island as the name suggests. The metro in HK is world class, making the Parisian metro look second rate in comparison. It is fast, slick, clean and frequent, all the attributes that I think a metro should be rated on. They have been using an oyster card system for well over 12 years, called an octopus card. The key difference is that this card can be used everywhere from buying cigarettes (or a gentlemen’s magazine) in 7-11 to paying your parking meter on the road. It replaces the need for coins; it is something I think London should already have. We all got an octopus card and certainly noticed how effective they are once we left and took the metro in Shanghai. There are many high rises of corporate banks and international companies in Hong Kong Island giving rise to its famous skyline. When you are there you can definitely feel just how densely packed the area is, quite claustrophobic. Many people who want to live a spitting distance away from Central tend to live in the Mid Levels area where it is impossible to see what the weather is like from you apartment without sticking your head out and looking in between the two towers that sandwich the building. I find this quite extraordinary as a person who grow up in London because even in a crime ridden ghetto estate in say Peckham you can still see the sky from your window.
As mentioned before, it was the all famous rugby sevens. We set out to borrow, steal or beg for tickets constantly reshuffling and streamlining the personal finances so as to be prepared both emotionally and financially to pay a ticket tout an extortionate sum of money. On Friday Mark decided to stay in and attend to some r and r, Weli and I had itchy feet and our plans lay elsewhere. I contacted a family friend called Hugo who works for a prestigious wine trader company and in one sms text he managed to write in the most concise English all the hotspots and hip places to go out. We grabbed the metro towards Lockheart Road which is a strip full of bars, coincidentally the all famous bar that appears in the James Bond Man with the Golden Gun. We examined each bar for both atmosphere and people; it would be completely dominated by rugger buggers. I paid around 6£ sterling for a bottle of San Miguel, which explains why 7-11 looked more like Favela Chic on a Friday night than a convenient store. So from there on in we would grab drinks from 7-11 and just walk into the busy bars as if they had been purchased there. This might not be acceptable in terms of bar etiquette, oh well. That night we met many people ranging from Swiss traders to Australian boggans which we avoided like a case of chronic Black Death. All in all it was a great night, we were feeling pretty confident at 6am that if we made it to the stadium within the hour we would find many early bird ticket touts selling tickets. Optimism became disbelief almost instantaneously when we found the surrounding roads well patrolled by the police. My mum had told me the night before that some friends, that is Hugo’s sister Lucy maybe able to get me tickets so when I got back home I kept two phones close to my ears, it looked like a blackberry call centre.
At 10 am the phone rang with great news, I had tickets to the Saturday games RESULLLTT. I was already dressed due to the amount consumed on my part the previous night. Sprayed some aftershave and shifted swiftly towards the stadium. Met Justin, Lucy’s husband and made our way to the BNP (French Bank) box with everything included, it was amazing free beer and food. It didn’t feel so wrong sipping that free beer at 11am, in free beer drops like warm honey down the gullet. I mixed around and got to know some nice people, the crowd were mainly men who seem to get a free pass every year from their wives. The day was amazing I saw Portugal get comprehensively beaten by the Pumas. After the Saturday games ended I was determined to get tickets for the finals. I had a great time on Saturday night meeting Justin in a restaurant for some beers and food where I got to meet some of his pals. I ended up at a place called Red Dragon until 6 am.
On Sunday we phoned Arnold Wong were we arranged to go for dinner and some site seeing. We walked around the shopping district. The shops are arranged by what they sell i.e. all trainer shops on one road and clothing shops on another and so on. The intense use of lighting makes this a great place to walk around at night time. We were impressed by the amount of electronics; it was possible to pick up 32 gb usb pen disks, which I never even knew existed. We ate and talked for hours it was good to see Arnold.
On Monday night I had dinner at Lucy’s flat, the food was beautiful plus I could drop all my laundry and have it nice and fresh for the next chapter of my travels which would be Shanghai. We went to Macau the following day the casino land which has overtaken Las Vegas over the last few years. It has been described as the Lisboa of the orient. That morning we made our way to the harbour near Central to and boarded the next ferry to Macau. The flying cats are similar to those used in Athens and the Islands. The journey took approximately 45 mins and cost around 15£ which I thought was pretty reasonable. Upon arrival it was very strange to see all the sings in Portuguese then Chinese and finally English. WE had splashed out on accommodation in Macau having booked Starworld Casino Hotel, the tallest hotel in Macau. That won’t be for long as next door was under construction and the building was at least 5 floors higher. We booked for two but of course we crammed three into the very nice and spacious hotel room which had break taking views of Macau and all the casinos in the area. The food in Macau is great, very influenced by Portuguese cuisine which made me a happy man as I could put the bloody noodles and rice aside and feast on some nice bacalhau grelhado. I would put the grilled cod that I ate in La Loarca as one the all time best that I have had, they are lucky in that they get great fish in the China Sea. Macau involved some site seeing as the old town is very beautiful littered with old Churches, ruins and a fort. Once again we went to the history museums which were dominated by the Portuguese exploration and their achievements. All in all there was a lot of relaxation and gambling (on very small budgets of course). The routette royally shafted me I lost 40£ in minutes and called it day. I returned on Friday to HK earlier so that I could collect my laundry all nice and pressed from Lucy. She was kind of enough to prepare me a packed lunch for the 19 hour train journey to Shanghai. I felt like a school kid again being given a packed lunch. What makes that gesture even nicer is that on the train they would not except HK dollars choosing instead to only accept Chinese Yuan. This meant we would or should I say Mark and Weli would not be able to eat for 19 hours hahaha I gave them the tube of Pringles which Mark duly dispatched into the black obis that is his stomach as I tucked in to the lovely pork sausages that Lucy gave me.
We had a funny episode concerning Shanghai and Chinese visas. The visa was so dam expensive totalling 100£. It was made even dearer as we would only be in Shanghai for approx 35 hours not making it worth whatsoever. The British seem to overcharge the Chinese when they get UK visas so as governments work on the basis of tit for tat they had done the same to UK passport holders. I must say that the HK to Shanghai train service was pretty slick and I pretty much slept the whole way through. The train was fully booked so Weli, Mark and I had to settle with being in different cabins it worked wonders as Weli the insomniac would not keep me up or Mark the serial Pringles muncher would not be masticating crisps the whole night.
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
Malasia & Singapore
Our chapter in the more undeveloped world would come to a closure once we departed Siem Reap on an AirAsia flight to Kuala Lumpar. The flight was very choppy, going through bad areas of turbulence which made the experience more white knuckle than relaxing. On arriving to KL we made haste to finding our accommodation. We had actually booked a place before arrival which made things a hell of a lot easier. We dumped our luggage and Weli proceeded in having his afternoon nap. Afterwards we would go to the PETRONAS towers which have arguably put KL on the map or for you Hollywood enthusiasts watch Entrapment again with Sean Connery. We walked for a couple of miles armed with the free map given to us at the hostel. Around 7pm we found this really nice road full of fast food eateries mainly Chinese and Malayan food. We had some great food. After supper we went to an electronics mall and called it a day, we were tempted as we passed various happening bars on the way back to the hostel.
The next day Weli stayed in and Mark and I explored KL. We walked to the station and the national mosque as well as stopping by a few museums. We caught a taxi that would take us to the PETRONAS towers so we could visit the bridge. Unfortunately we got there too late, it really is something you have to plan in advance and wake up around 7am to queue by 8 am. We decided to do the next best thing KL tower which roughly 130m high. It offers fantastic views of the city with the big binoculars that these sorts of tourist attractions always have. It makes for perfect peeping into all the apartments and roof top pools. It is just a shame it was a cloudy day. We had booked the day before a 6 hour bus to Singapore. With all the travelling we have done i.e. planes, trains etc 6 hours goes by like minutes. We have developed some skill in keeping busy on the bus, Weli finds that sleeping helps him get through most journeys.
Upon arrival to Singapore we had to go through immigration control. It was a really nice building located just after the bridge that connects Singapore to the mainland. It was a slick run control point with no smoking signs punishable by law not the puny fines that similar signs in London offer. Weli had some problems getting through the check point and had his finger on David Milleband’s fast dial number just in case things went down. Finally we were in a taxi, Adam recommended that we stay above a pub in Little India called the Prince of Wales. We arrived around 9pm with the plan of looking around for places to stay of course we agreed on the first thing. So we stayed at the POW and got ready to go out and meet Adam K. We met Adam at the White Rabbit are really nice classy joint about 20min taxi ride away. The first thing he told me whilst getting a round of vodka red bulls and shots of sambuca “Fil the piss in Singapore is really expensive”. Wiser words have never been spoken. The drink prices are worse than London. That night Adam was on a serious mission and we enjoyed ourselves a great deal. We went to the world famous Zouk Club Singapore, it was immense. It’s a really cool club, good size, good sound and nice women all a growing man needs really. After Zouk we decided to end the night with a few swift halves at the “living rooms” at some classy hotel. It became immediately apparent that this is a place where men with money can meet so called ladies of the night aka professional women. It reminded me of Hotel Panorama but with the added class, the women at times were arguably men.
The next morning we woke up around lunch time and headed down to Orchid Road where you can find every type of mall i.e. electronics, clothes. It is a really wide road with shops stacked side by side, a smarter, cleaner and more organised Oxford/Sloane Street. We grabbed some food from the local canteens which can be found off some side streets. Our attempt at trying local dishes etc failed miserably the food was shit. May I remind the reader that up until recently I haven’t had a McDonalds for well over 3 months. We made a few purchases and met Ad who had a friend in a West Ham top, how that happened I will never quite understand. We drove to Sentosa Island to commence our lazy Sunday whilst simultaneously trying our best to heal very big hangovers from the previous nights minus Weli of course. Sentosa Island was beautiful and real estate companies have gone to town on it. We ended up by chance having a few coronas at Cafe Del Mar, it gave me a chance to talk about my visit to Ibiza as well as to explain how overrated the real Cafe Del Mar is. Ok so the beaches are manmade who cares, I’m sure the locals from Singapore don’t mind as their consistent weather all year round means they can stroll down the beach and do a spot of tanning. One thing that might worry that local from Singapore is that when he rubs the sun cream from his eyes and looks upon the shoreline he will find it contaminated with tankers. For me I have no problem with that similarly to me not having any problems with Battersea Power Station. Of course the environmentalists will as oil spills can be found if you look hard enough.
The remaining days in Singapore consisted mainly of malls and cinemas. We have watched nearly every movie out. Dragonball, Watchman, Streetfighter and Push were seen in one sitting. May I just add that Street fighter the chronicles of Chung Li is horrible and it would be a crime against film making to even put that on VHS let alone blue ray with all those lovely extra features you get these days. In fact all these films are extremely bad clearly amplifying the state of Hollywood and the lack of story lines with substance. They are remaking every film, how is it possible that 10 years on Van Dame’s version of Street Fighter is far superior to the more recent.
The Raffles experience is one that I will never forget. The place of origin for the famous Singapore sling (not the Dingaling). The bar had an old feel to it, like it had been preserved from the colonial days of men smoking cigars but had been given the modern touches i.e. speakers with surround sound. It is customary to eat the nuts provided and to throw the shells on to the ground, which felt good. The drink was delicious but pricey but worth every cent or dollar. The Raffles hotel looked amazing and old. We walked through the arcade area and the gardens in the middle I definitely would stay here in the future subject to salary. It oozed class and offered pure relaxation with that 5 star treatment. Once Adam arrived we made our way to a roof top bar that had breath taking views of Singapore at night even better than the Millennium wheel equivalent which I failed to mention we had done on the second day. For some reason happy hour made a bottle of Moet 25£ so the decision was made for us, we guzzled every last drop. Ladies night in Singapore doesn’t just mean free entrance while men pay extortionate prices it means free drinks also. I cant remember exactly the name of the club but it felt studenty and ME LIKEYYYY. They had a special on drinks and we let the good stuff flow. We met some of Adams friends they were cool and very friendly.
So next stop after Singapore was Hong Kong and it would be Jet Star’s turn to offer that service. WE arrived to the famous Hong Kong airport. Weli based his final year project on a similar scheme so I heard all the facts and intricacies of this complex project hmmmm interesting. We had booked on hostelworld.com a room in Kowloon a couple of stops from Hong Kong Island. Well let begin by saying that the photo that they posted on the website must have been taken in the 60s with a 14 mega pixel digital camera when the rooms were last decorated.
The next day Weli stayed in and Mark and I explored KL. We walked to the station and the national mosque as well as stopping by a few museums. We caught a taxi that would take us to the PETRONAS towers so we could visit the bridge. Unfortunately we got there too late, it really is something you have to plan in advance and wake up around 7am to queue by 8 am. We decided to do the next best thing KL tower which roughly 130m high. It offers fantastic views of the city with the big binoculars that these sorts of tourist attractions always have. It makes for perfect peeping into all the apartments and roof top pools. It is just a shame it was a cloudy day. We had booked the day before a 6 hour bus to Singapore. With all the travelling we have done i.e. planes, trains etc 6 hours goes by like minutes. We have developed some skill in keeping busy on the bus, Weli finds that sleeping helps him get through most journeys.
Upon arrival to Singapore we had to go through immigration control. It was a really nice building located just after the bridge that connects Singapore to the mainland. It was a slick run control point with no smoking signs punishable by law not the puny fines that similar signs in London offer. Weli had some problems getting through the check point and had his finger on David Milleband’s fast dial number just in case things went down. Finally we were in a taxi, Adam recommended that we stay above a pub in Little India called the Prince of Wales. We arrived around 9pm with the plan of looking around for places to stay of course we agreed on the first thing. So we stayed at the POW and got ready to go out and meet Adam K. We met Adam at the White Rabbit are really nice classy joint about 20min taxi ride away. The first thing he told me whilst getting a round of vodka red bulls and shots of sambuca “Fil the piss in Singapore is really expensive”. Wiser words have never been spoken. The drink prices are worse than London. That night Adam was on a serious mission and we enjoyed ourselves a great deal. We went to the world famous Zouk Club Singapore, it was immense. It’s a really cool club, good size, good sound and nice women all a growing man needs really. After Zouk we decided to end the night with a few swift halves at the “living rooms” at some classy hotel. It became immediately apparent that this is a place where men with money can meet so called ladies of the night aka professional women. It reminded me of Hotel Panorama but with the added class, the women at times were arguably men.
The next morning we woke up around lunch time and headed down to Orchid Road where you can find every type of mall i.e. electronics, clothes. It is a really wide road with shops stacked side by side, a smarter, cleaner and more organised Oxford/Sloane Street. We grabbed some food from the local canteens which can be found off some side streets. Our attempt at trying local dishes etc failed miserably the food was shit. May I remind the reader that up until recently I haven’t had a McDonalds for well over 3 months. We made a few purchases and met Ad who had a friend in a West Ham top, how that happened I will never quite understand. We drove to Sentosa Island to commence our lazy Sunday whilst simultaneously trying our best to heal very big hangovers from the previous nights minus Weli of course. Sentosa Island was beautiful and real estate companies have gone to town on it. We ended up by chance having a few coronas at Cafe Del Mar, it gave me a chance to talk about my visit to Ibiza as well as to explain how overrated the real Cafe Del Mar is. Ok so the beaches are manmade who cares, I’m sure the locals from Singapore don’t mind as their consistent weather all year round means they can stroll down the beach and do a spot of tanning. One thing that might worry that local from Singapore is that when he rubs the sun cream from his eyes and looks upon the shoreline he will find it contaminated with tankers. For me I have no problem with that similarly to me not having any problems with Battersea Power Station. Of course the environmentalists will as oil spills can be found if you look hard enough.
The remaining days in Singapore consisted mainly of malls and cinemas. We have watched nearly every movie out. Dragonball, Watchman, Streetfighter and Push were seen in one sitting. May I just add that Street fighter the chronicles of Chung Li is horrible and it would be a crime against film making to even put that on VHS let alone blue ray with all those lovely extra features you get these days. In fact all these films are extremely bad clearly amplifying the state of Hollywood and the lack of story lines with substance. They are remaking every film, how is it possible that 10 years on Van Dame’s version of Street Fighter is far superior to the more recent.
The Raffles experience is one that I will never forget. The place of origin for the famous Singapore sling (not the Dingaling). The bar had an old feel to it, like it had been preserved from the colonial days of men smoking cigars but had been given the modern touches i.e. speakers with surround sound. It is customary to eat the nuts provided and to throw the shells on to the ground, which felt good. The drink was delicious but pricey but worth every cent or dollar. The Raffles hotel looked amazing and old. We walked through the arcade area and the gardens in the middle I definitely would stay here in the future subject to salary. It oozed class and offered pure relaxation with that 5 star treatment. Once Adam arrived we made our way to a roof top bar that had breath taking views of Singapore at night even better than the Millennium wheel equivalent which I failed to mention we had done on the second day. For some reason happy hour made a bottle of Moet 25£ so the decision was made for us, we guzzled every last drop. Ladies night in Singapore doesn’t just mean free entrance while men pay extortionate prices it means free drinks also. I cant remember exactly the name of the club but it felt studenty and ME LIKEYYYY. They had a special on drinks and we let the good stuff flow. We met some of Adams friends they were cool and very friendly.
So next stop after Singapore was Hong Kong and it would be Jet Star’s turn to offer that service. WE arrived to the famous Hong Kong airport. Weli based his final year project on a similar scheme so I heard all the facts and intricacies of this complex project hmmmm interesting. We had booked on hostelworld.com a room in Kowloon a couple of stops from Hong Kong Island. Well let begin by saying that the photo that they posted on the website must have been taken in the 60s with a 14 mega pixel digital camera when the rooms were last decorated.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
WE NEED MORE PEOPLE TO REGISTER TO THIS BLOG
I get sms and emails asking for the next installment of my travelling blog. I ask the question how are there more people asking for my entry than there are people linked to the blog. I would like more to sign up so that I can post the new entry incl.
Malaysia i.e. KL
Singapore and our outing with Adam
Hong Kong
Macao
I know its a pain but as ben stiller says in Starsky & Hutch "DO ITTT"
Malaysia i.e. KL
Singapore and our outing with Adam
Hong Kong
Macao
I know its a pain but as ben stiller says in Starsky & Hutch "DO ITTT"
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Shotgun Backpacking the story so far. HANOI TO CAMBODIA
I will now attempt to describe the events that occurred post Hanoi. I will have grave difficulty in doing so. The reason being largely due to our over stay in Hanoi, we had planned in the original itinerary to stay for 3 days, however as we all know that these plans are subject to change we stayed 10 days. Plan of action therefore was to shoot down to Saigon in a matter of days. We caught the train down to the historical capital of Hue. It would be a smash and grab touristic visit, see the old city and palace and get the hell out of there. Hue is an interesting town, more so in the old part. Similarly to the rest of Vietnam very rich in history which again mainly involves the Chinese. I didn’t see much evidence of the American war if any. In all honesty that is how I know Vietnam.
Hue as warned by the Lonely Planet was very quiet and chilled out during the night. We visited a bar called DMZ at night. Oh yes almost forgot we met some fellow backpackers in the old town. Jess and Rachael from Newcastle University, Weli and I realised that they were similar to us as they were not typical backpackers living it rough and surviving on a 50p daily budget. We had a few drinks that night and exchanged stories and future travel plans, it turned out they were going south as well and that we may cross paths again in Auz. The thing you must understand about Vietnam is that it is so narrow that you see similar faces from Hanoi in Hue, Hoian and Nah Trang. There is no avoiding it everyone is making their way south to Saigon.
In Hue we did the DMZ tour. The DMZ stands for Demilitarized Zone which was the area that divided the North and the South. It is ironic because the name certainly doesn’t reflect its past. During the American Imperialistic Attack on the People ....... ohhhhh my lord has the commy propaganda taken a hold of me already. Well during the Vietnam war this was the most heavily fortified regions. We say various old museums, a completely shot down Catholic Church and some hills where the Americans had their artillery. The following day we caught a bus down towards Hoian with Jess etc. I had heard a lot about Hoian from the one they call Massi Crea. This place is absolutely beautiful a colonial marvel. I will try to do it justice by describing how I saw it, ok here goes. It is like wrapping up all the best features of southern French architecture i.e. old French manor houses and placing it in Vietnam. The area is full of villaesque building very few having more than 2 stories all around a river/canal. It even looks better at night with great little features such as the Parisian street lamps. This is certainly a place i will come back to later on in life. I fully recommend it. There is something for everyone here beaches, food, architecture, museums (not that I saw any) and nightlife. We spent a total of 3 days in Hoian . Hoian is full to the brim with tailors so we decided to get ourselves suited and booted not with suits though but with smoking jackets for Hong Kong. Be on the lookout and let us know which jacket you prefer from the pics.
Even further south we went, the penultimate stop before Saigon the all acclaimed Nah Trang. This area is a beach resort party capital of Vietnam. Where the crème de la crème take holidays would I be bold enough to say “the Vietnamese St. Tropez”. Upon arrival after a 12 hour coach journey with a gang of stupid fat Irish girls I realised that the South was truly beautiful in a developed and less raw way as Hanoi and Sapa. Oh sorry the reason I use gang and not group is due to their sense of fashion (all wearing the same trainers with the tongues pocking out) and their constant loud and disturbing convos. The beaches were beautiful, white sand with palm trees separating the beach road. There are really nice bar stroke chill out zones along this particular stretch of coast, with nice food available at most places and good music. We checked into a hotel/apartment the type you would find on a shoe string budget in St Anton Ibiza. It had the basics, more importantly aircon, a contraption that I have become fond of especially now as I write this from the very humid Singapore. The nightlife of Nah Trang does not offer a wide variety of choice, what is does offer is one place known as the Sailing Club. This club is great, open air with good music along the beach. Everyone starts off relaxing by the beach on tables having colourful cocktails or the jam jar which is just as lethal as the infamous buckets from Koh Pagnan. As soberness turns to tipsiness the crowd shifts on to the dance floor to strut their stuff. Everyone makes a real effort to dress up and I must admit it makes the place look sexy and classy. To emphasise just how good this place is, of the three nights we spent in Nah Trang, we went there each and every night. It is just the thing to do, the alternatives that attempt to do something different will find themselves on their lonesome in a vacant bar. After Sailing Club everyone stumbles down to the bar I think called Now and Then, which doesn’t close. Here jam jars are sold at a fierce rate, they are absolutely horrible and I would recommend drinking them as late on as possible. The first night we met a group of Norwegian travellers who are travelling around the world in 2 months. Their names were Sarah, Line, Pendta, Elizabeth and Camilla (wow I got it right). We all got on really well and enjoyed three very drunken nights in Nah Trang. They had the missing energy we were desperately needed making sure we appreciated every night as if it were our last. So Nah Trang was pretty much a blurry image of beaches and nightclubs. From the people we have met we are picking up some great terminology I would like to make an addition to the british phrases. In Norway apparently when people meet up and have drinks before going out (mainly for economical purposes) they refer to this as FOREPLAY. All I can say to that phrase is ME LIKEYYY.
We made a conscious decision one night in Nah Trang that the following week of travel for both parties involved was identical and that we should not go it alone but unite and travel as one large Anglo-Norwegian posy. We made our way from Nah Trang to Saigon, our bus was little early so we had a whole day and night before the girls in Saigon to scope out the joint. We found some hotel near the busiest part of town aka back packer central and checked in. After all the partying in Nah Trang I was in no fit state to go out but Weli insisted I do a bit of Wing Man as he so eloquently put it. The next day the girls arrived Mark and I went site seeing with them as Mr Elmi lazed in bed until 4pm. We walked around for hours, going into every museum we passed, trying local dishes (one restaurant had a photo of Bill Clinton eating there) and shopping malls (girls of course haha). We stayed in Saigon, it is a nice enough place with some beautiful French style promenades and old hotels that must have been just as classy pre Hoh Chin Mihn. Like Bangkok it is the sort of place you pass through before delving deeper into the country and finding the real treats.
The shotgun backpacking commenced in Saigon and carried right on through Cambodia and Singapore. In one week our passports were stamped at over 6 authorities i.e. 4 countries. We caught a bus from Saigon to the capital of Cambodia Phnom Pehn the land of Happy Herbal Pizzas. We stayed in Phom Pehn around 50 hours, enough time to see the killing fields caused by the terrible Poll Potts thats Poll Potts not Paul Potts the Britain’s got talent winner who can sing operah. We then headed further north to Siem Reap to the land of Angkor Watt. I literally had only one reason to go to Cambodia and that was Angkor Watt. Cambodia is not terrible in fact it is rather a beautiful country full of untouched landscape but then again so is Vietnam and Thailand. Siem Reap is a backpacker colony, when the French were forced out there must have been a fully equipped army of backpackers ready to invade which they did in numbers. Everything in Siem Reap is about extracting money from the tourist. So much so that Atms in Cambodia issue dollars, thats right folks the crispest US notes money can buy. It ruined my dream of withdrawing US dollars in time square (f*ck). Cambodia is expensive, I was under the impression it was a forgotten country with some impressive temples at that everything could be bought for a six pence. Like all backpacker stories of how poor these countries are and how cheap everything I will only respond with the following BULLSHIT.
We had to say goodbye to the Norwegian girls who were great and I think I am speaking for Mark and Weli in that we would very much like to stay in touch. We had a flight to Singapore whereas they were going further afield to Sydney for 10 days. Off to Singapore.
Finally I am up to date, you guys who enjoy the above reads should show me some love in the form of pints when I get back in April, this is hard work. Ball please do the word count. Love to you all and peace on earth and harmony and .......................... will write about Singapore in due time next stop Hong Kong.
Hue as warned by the Lonely Planet was very quiet and chilled out during the night. We visited a bar called DMZ at night. Oh yes almost forgot we met some fellow backpackers in the old town. Jess and Rachael from Newcastle University, Weli and I realised that they were similar to us as they were not typical backpackers living it rough and surviving on a 50p daily budget. We had a few drinks that night and exchanged stories and future travel plans, it turned out they were going south as well and that we may cross paths again in Auz. The thing you must understand about Vietnam is that it is so narrow that you see similar faces from Hanoi in Hue, Hoian and Nah Trang. There is no avoiding it everyone is making their way south to Saigon.
In Hue we did the DMZ tour. The DMZ stands for Demilitarized Zone which was the area that divided the North and the South. It is ironic because the name certainly doesn’t reflect its past. During the American Imperialistic Attack on the People ....... ohhhhh my lord has the commy propaganda taken a hold of me already. Well during the Vietnam war this was the most heavily fortified regions. We say various old museums, a completely shot down Catholic Church and some hills where the Americans had their artillery. The following day we caught a bus down towards Hoian with Jess etc. I had heard a lot about Hoian from the one they call Massi Crea. This place is absolutely beautiful a colonial marvel. I will try to do it justice by describing how I saw it, ok here goes. It is like wrapping up all the best features of southern French architecture i.e. old French manor houses and placing it in Vietnam. The area is full of villaesque building very few having more than 2 stories all around a river/canal. It even looks better at night with great little features such as the Parisian street lamps. This is certainly a place i will come back to later on in life. I fully recommend it. There is something for everyone here beaches, food, architecture, museums (not that I saw any) and nightlife. We spent a total of 3 days in Hoian . Hoian is full to the brim with tailors so we decided to get ourselves suited and booted not with suits though but with smoking jackets for Hong Kong. Be on the lookout and let us know which jacket you prefer from the pics.
Even further south we went, the penultimate stop before Saigon the all acclaimed Nah Trang. This area is a beach resort party capital of Vietnam. Where the crème de la crème take holidays would I be bold enough to say “the Vietnamese St. Tropez”. Upon arrival after a 12 hour coach journey with a gang of stupid fat Irish girls I realised that the South was truly beautiful in a developed and less raw way as Hanoi and Sapa. Oh sorry the reason I use gang and not group is due to their sense of fashion (all wearing the same trainers with the tongues pocking out) and their constant loud and disturbing convos. The beaches were beautiful, white sand with palm trees separating the beach road. There are really nice bar stroke chill out zones along this particular stretch of coast, with nice food available at most places and good music. We checked into a hotel/apartment the type you would find on a shoe string budget in St Anton Ibiza. It had the basics, more importantly aircon, a contraption that I have become fond of especially now as I write this from the very humid Singapore. The nightlife of Nah Trang does not offer a wide variety of choice, what is does offer is one place known as the Sailing Club. This club is great, open air with good music along the beach. Everyone starts off relaxing by the beach on tables having colourful cocktails or the jam jar which is just as lethal as the infamous buckets from Koh Pagnan. As soberness turns to tipsiness the crowd shifts on to the dance floor to strut their stuff. Everyone makes a real effort to dress up and I must admit it makes the place look sexy and classy. To emphasise just how good this place is, of the three nights we spent in Nah Trang, we went there each and every night. It is just the thing to do, the alternatives that attempt to do something different will find themselves on their lonesome in a vacant bar. After Sailing Club everyone stumbles down to the bar I think called Now and Then, which doesn’t close. Here jam jars are sold at a fierce rate, they are absolutely horrible and I would recommend drinking them as late on as possible. The first night we met a group of Norwegian travellers who are travelling around the world in 2 months. Their names were Sarah, Line, Pendta, Elizabeth and Camilla (wow I got it right). We all got on really well and enjoyed three very drunken nights in Nah Trang. They had the missing energy we were desperately needed making sure we appreciated every night as if it were our last. So Nah Trang was pretty much a blurry image of beaches and nightclubs. From the people we have met we are picking up some great terminology I would like to make an addition to the british phrases. In Norway apparently when people meet up and have drinks before going out (mainly for economical purposes) they refer to this as FOREPLAY. All I can say to that phrase is ME LIKEYYY.
We made a conscious decision one night in Nah Trang that the following week of travel for both parties involved was identical and that we should not go it alone but unite and travel as one large Anglo-Norwegian posy. We made our way from Nah Trang to Saigon, our bus was little early so we had a whole day and night before the girls in Saigon to scope out the joint. We found some hotel near the busiest part of town aka back packer central and checked in. After all the partying in Nah Trang I was in no fit state to go out but Weli insisted I do a bit of Wing Man as he so eloquently put it. The next day the girls arrived Mark and I went site seeing with them as Mr Elmi lazed in bed until 4pm. We walked around for hours, going into every museum we passed, trying local dishes (one restaurant had a photo of Bill Clinton eating there) and shopping malls (girls of course haha). We stayed in Saigon, it is a nice enough place with some beautiful French style promenades and old hotels that must have been just as classy pre Hoh Chin Mihn. Like Bangkok it is the sort of place you pass through before delving deeper into the country and finding the real treats.
The shotgun backpacking commenced in Saigon and carried right on through Cambodia and Singapore. In one week our passports were stamped at over 6 authorities i.e. 4 countries. We caught a bus from Saigon to the capital of Cambodia Phnom Pehn the land of Happy Herbal Pizzas. We stayed in Phom Pehn around 50 hours, enough time to see the killing fields caused by the terrible Poll Potts thats Poll Potts not Paul Potts the Britain’s got talent winner who can sing operah. We then headed further north to Siem Reap to the land of Angkor Watt. I literally had only one reason to go to Cambodia and that was Angkor Watt. Cambodia is not terrible in fact it is rather a beautiful country full of untouched landscape but then again so is Vietnam and Thailand. Siem Reap is a backpacker colony, when the French were forced out there must have been a fully equipped army of backpackers ready to invade which they did in numbers. Everything in Siem Reap is about extracting money from the tourist. So much so that Atms in Cambodia issue dollars, thats right folks the crispest US notes money can buy. It ruined my dream of withdrawing US dollars in time square (f*ck). Cambodia is expensive, I was under the impression it was a forgotten country with some impressive temples at that everything could be bought for a six pence. Like all backpacker stories of how poor these countries are and how cheap everything I will only respond with the following BULLSHIT.
We had to say goodbye to the Norwegian girls who were great and I think I am speaking for Mark and Weli in that we would very much like to stay in touch. We had a flight to Singapore whereas they were going further afield to Sydney for 10 days. Off to Singapore.
Finally I am up to date, you guys who enjoy the above reads should show me some love in the form of pints when I get back in April, this is hard work. Ball please do the word count. Love to you all and peace on earth and harmony and .......................... will write about Singapore in due time next stop Hong Kong.
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Happening HANOI by Filipe Martins
After saying goodbye to Thailand which we all loved and an airasia 1 hour or so flight we arrived in the Vietnamese capital of Hanoi in the north. The airport is reasonably small for a capital and a country of this size. The officials in Vietnam are dressed in a very typical communist way like an old soviet commissar. Except instead of having a brut 6ft4 Russian body builder it was a 5ft5 Vietnamese man. We left the airport and took the taxi to the old quarter where we had booked a hotel. I really cant put my finger on it exactly but I really like Hanoi, its got a great buzz and atmosphere. It has a greater Chinese influence than Thailand but at the same time it is heavily fused with French colonialism. I shall give you an example; the first morning in Hanoi we scoured the streets for a cafe, somewhere to have the amazing Vietnamese coffee that I heard so much about. We found a great cafe near the lake not too far from our hotel; it was on the 5th floor with an esplanade with a great view of the central lake. The menu was scattered with French delights, the last time I had a Croque Madame was when I was in Paris years ago. It was delicious, what really made my week was the expresso, how I miss a good expresso. I have to admit I really miss normal breakfasts i.e. non rice or noodle based.
That day we decided to walk around the city but four hours in we bought a lonely planet, sorry. Well it was a fake and we bartered down to 2£ a steal really. I have got so used to bartering that I think when I go back to London I will probably go into PC World and do the same. Every street in Hanoi is a high street, full of little shops and cafes. If I was to make a comparison it reminds me of old London high streets. I am sure if you think back far enough you will know exactly what I mean, the local high street with the local butchers, cafe, newsagents, sewing shop etc for those to young they are where you find Sainsburys local and Tesco expresses. The Vietnamese are both very skilful and very good with their hands. Completely different from other cities, everyone seems to have a trade i.e. metal polisher, mechanic, key cutter, polish shoes and other traditional trades. This was last Saturday and of course we had to find a place to watch Chelsea vs Aston Villa to satisfy Mr Elmi. This was of course an episode in itself, Weli was sure there was a great place to watch it, however when we got inside the Taxi these are the very words that came out of his month. “take us to Puntang Bar on Puntang Road”. Thats right folks he didn’t have a clue where we were going, not even the road. I suggested that we play it safe and go to a place called “le pub”, although anglais I knew it would show the footy. All this wasn’t helped with the fact that the taxi driver really didn’t know the difference between his arse and his elbow, he was useless. Well after various discussions, of course Weli fought to the death but was proved wrong we ended up in “le pub”, it had a projector , yeahhhhhh.
It seems like the opportune moment to talk about Vietnamese taxies. They are truly a joke, sitting in your chair at work, home or maybe you have decided to take the laptop and sit on the loo. They take the biscuit, not ordinary biscuits but the chocolate coated one dipped in diamonds. They have a button behind the steering wheel which speeds the distance meter at least 40 times the normal rate. An example would be travelling 10m but the taxi meter records 2km. Prices are so variable when it comes to Vietnamese taxis. They have no shame, when we confronted a taxi driver about this he wasn’t even embarrassed he accepted half and drove off with a big smile on his face. One taxi driver had a piece of fruit glued right in front of the distance meter. You can only laugh, I told Weli who was sitting on the front seat, he then tried to remove the apple and the taxi driver refused to do so, we walked out in the middle of the road. Now a days we tell Taxis and they seem not to rip us off (as much). The real hidden secret in Hanoi is the Bier Hoi, its fresh beer made daily. It’s really weak maybe 2-4 % but it’s lovely and refreshing. You can drink this in the old quarter on little plastic chairs and watch the world go by. The best is yet to come they cost 3000 VND thats about 4p guys. Me and Mark have gone there several times and have stumbled home in a happy state, I don’t think we have ever left more than 1£ sterling there.
The Old quarter has a very Parisian feel, the French definitely left some great buildings here. I didn’t see dog carcases like ducks in China town this is because of its a lunar year and they don’t eat dog for a while, ahhh what a shame (NOT). There is a lot of site seeing to do in Hanoi, such as the mausoleum where Ho Chi Minh has been embalmed, his museum and the grand palace, which was the previous palace for the governor of IndoChina when the French were here. We also visited the Hanoi Hilton, again a French building (prison) which was later used to house American POWs like the failed Presidential candidate John McCain. Oh yeah how could I forget the B52 lake, during the war in the 70s Vietnamese soldiers with the help of flying turtles brought down a B52. There is a wreck in a lake smack bang in the middle of a residential area. Well I don’t know about the flying turtles hypothesis hmmmmmm.
I guess that’s why I love Hanoi, it is so rich in culture and modern history. Its not the kind of history that is ancient (which they have to i.e. with the Chinese) but modern history which has had a direct impact on our lives today especially the way Americans go about doing things. They are very proud of their victory and rightly so. Propaganda is amazing in Vietnam they refer to America as the Imperialistic armies etc. The Vietnamese are super resilient, from the French and their various uprising under colossal suppression to the Yanks. I would think twice before confronting the Vietnamese.
Did I mention that their coffee is aromatic, tasty and just out right good. Everyday Mark and I have our daily coffee. So we have stayed in Hanoi for 5 days, mainly site seeing as well as having a taste of the Hanoi night social scene. We have heard from many backpackers that the south is even better, I really can’t wait.
So we decided to go to Sapa, a small town well concealed in the Vietnamese mountains in the north. It would be an overnight train, two days trekking and an overnight train back. Sapa is so beautiful that I will not even attempt to describe it........ ok here goes the town reminds me of an alpine ski resort situated in the middle of a valley. They mountain slopes are covered in terraces which the locals use for agricultural purposes mainly rice. The trek was a welcome break, it was so refreshing to walk amongst nature and to sample and see the life of the local tribes. The mountain range is overwhelming more so the terraces. It’s a geological dream and nightmare, landslides have occurred everywhere, I am really glad that we didn’t visit during the winter because heavy rainfall would make slopes run like a slurpy chocolate milkshake. We booked an organised tour guide, it was something we haven’t really done, it is something we will do more of. You get to see great places and more importantly meet people who 9 times out of 10 are in the same walk of life. We met a really nice guy from Watford called Ross, his travels were coming to a conclusion, he had travelled Australia and New Zealand and gave us a lot of vital information and tips.
I am currently typing this on the night train back to Hanoi. I am so glad we done the tour of Sapa somewhere I would love to return to in the future, it would be an ideal place to relax. The plan is to spend a few days in Hanoi and book a tour to Ha Long Bay where we will stay on a junk boat and sip gins and tonic from the deck as the sun goes down. Ahhh its a hard life out here people I am so jealous I am not stuck in an office staring at a computer screen, only kidding. We have been travelling now for 2 months, it has been great we are doing fine as a group just in case you are wondering. It works a tiny bit like this, Weli and I argue over everything, absolutely everything and Mark doesn’t say anything. In fact where is Mark I haven’t seen him since Bangkok ................ only kidding he is sleeping on the top bunk. Ross mad me really excited about Aus and NZ.
Well people hope all is well and that you are having successful careers.
That day we decided to walk around the city but four hours in we bought a lonely planet, sorry. Well it was a fake and we bartered down to 2£ a steal really. I have got so used to bartering that I think when I go back to London I will probably go into PC World and do the same. Every street in Hanoi is a high street, full of little shops and cafes. If I was to make a comparison it reminds me of old London high streets. I am sure if you think back far enough you will know exactly what I mean, the local high street with the local butchers, cafe, newsagents, sewing shop etc for those to young they are where you find Sainsburys local and Tesco expresses. The Vietnamese are both very skilful and very good with their hands. Completely different from other cities, everyone seems to have a trade i.e. metal polisher, mechanic, key cutter, polish shoes and other traditional trades. This was last Saturday and of course we had to find a place to watch Chelsea vs Aston Villa to satisfy Mr Elmi. This was of course an episode in itself, Weli was sure there was a great place to watch it, however when we got inside the Taxi these are the very words that came out of his month. “take us to Puntang Bar on Puntang Road”. Thats right folks he didn’t have a clue where we were going, not even the road. I suggested that we play it safe and go to a place called “le pub”, although anglais I knew it would show the footy. All this wasn’t helped with the fact that the taxi driver really didn’t know the difference between his arse and his elbow, he was useless. Well after various discussions, of course Weli fought to the death but was proved wrong we ended up in “le pub”, it had a projector , yeahhhhhh.
It seems like the opportune moment to talk about Vietnamese taxies. They are truly a joke, sitting in your chair at work, home or maybe you have decided to take the laptop and sit on the loo. They take the biscuit, not ordinary biscuits but the chocolate coated one dipped in diamonds. They have a button behind the steering wheel which speeds the distance meter at least 40 times the normal rate. An example would be travelling 10m but the taxi meter records 2km. Prices are so variable when it comes to Vietnamese taxis. They have no shame, when we confronted a taxi driver about this he wasn’t even embarrassed he accepted half and drove off with a big smile on his face. One taxi driver had a piece of fruit glued right in front of the distance meter. You can only laugh, I told Weli who was sitting on the front seat, he then tried to remove the apple and the taxi driver refused to do so, we walked out in the middle of the road. Now a days we tell Taxis and they seem not to rip us off (as much). The real hidden secret in Hanoi is the Bier Hoi, its fresh beer made daily. It’s really weak maybe 2-4 % but it’s lovely and refreshing. You can drink this in the old quarter on little plastic chairs and watch the world go by. The best is yet to come they cost 3000 VND thats about 4p guys. Me and Mark have gone there several times and have stumbled home in a happy state, I don’t think we have ever left more than 1£ sterling there.
The Old quarter has a very Parisian feel, the French definitely left some great buildings here. I didn’t see dog carcases like ducks in China town this is because of its a lunar year and they don’t eat dog for a while, ahhh what a shame (NOT). There is a lot of site seeing to do in Hanoi, such as the mausoleum where Ho Chi Minh has been embalmed, his museum and the grand palace, which was the previous palace for the governor of IndoChina when the French were here. We also visited the Hanoi Hilton, again a French building (prison) which was later used to house American POWs like the failed Presidential candidate John McCain. Oh yeah how could I forget the B52 lake, during the war in the 70s Vietnamese soldiers with the help of flying turtles brought down a B52. There is a wreck in a lake smack bang in the middle of a residential area. Well I don’t know about the flying turtles hypothesis hmmmmmm.
I guess that’s why I love Hanoi, it is so rich in culture and modern history. Its not the kind of history that is ancient (which they have to i.e. with the Chinese) but modern history which has had a direct impact on our lives today especially the way Americans go about doing things. They are very proud of their victory and rightly so. Propaganda is amazing in Vietnam they refer to America as the Imperialistic armies etc. The Vietnamese are super resilient, from the French and their various uprising under colossal suppression to the Yanks. I would think twice before confronting the Vietnamese.
Did I mention that their coffee is aromatic, tasty and just out right good. Everyday Mark and I have our daily coffee. So we have stayed in Hanoi for 5 days, mainly site seeing as well as having a taste of the Hanoi night social scene. We have heard from many backpackers that the south is even better, I really can’t wait.
So we decided to go to Sapa, a small town well concealed in the Vietnamese mountains in the north. It would be an overnight train, two days trekking and an overnight train back. Sapa is so beautiful that I will not even attempt to describe it........ ok here goes the town reminds me of an alpine ski resort situated in the middle of a valley. They mountain slopes are covered in terraces which the locals use for agricultural purposes mainly rice. The trek was a welcome break, it was so refreshing to walk amongst nature and to sample and see the life of the local tribes. The mountain range is overwhelming more so the terraces. It’s a geological dream and nightmare, landslides have occurred everywhere, I am really glad that we didn’t visit during the winter because heavy rainfall would make slopes run like a slurpy chocolate milkshake. We booked an organised tour guide, it was something we haven’t really done, it is something we will do more of. You get to see great places and more importantly meet people who 9 times out of 10 are in the same walk of life. We met a really nice guy from Watford called Ross, his travels were coming to a conclusion, he had travelled Australia and New Zealand and gave us a lot of vital information and tips.
I am currently typing this on the night train back to Hanoi. I am so glad we done the tour of Sapa somewhere I would love to return to in the future, it would be an ideal place to relax. The plan is to spend a few days in Hanoi and book a tour to Ha Long Bay where we will stay on a junk boat and sip gins and tonic from the deck as the sun goes down. Ahhh its a hard life out here people I am so jealous I am not stuck in an office staring at a computer screen, only kidding. We have been travelling now for 2 months, it has been great we are doing fine as a group just in case you are wondering. It works a tiny bit like this, Weli and I argue over everything, absolutely everything and Mark doesn’t say anything. In fact where is Mark I haven’t seen him since Bangkok ................ only kidding he is sleeping on the top bunk. Ross mad me really excited about Aus and NZ.
Well people hope all is well and that you are having successful careers.
Sunday, 22 February 2009
The Rest of Thailand in a Nutshell by Filipe Martins
The Rest of Thailand in a Nutshell
As self proclaimed Chief Editor of this blog I am writing to apologise for not having written anything sooner. There are many in and outs and what have you and so will not go into it. After Chiangmai we went to Ko Samui which is an island in the south about 10mins away from the Koh Pagnan where the full moon antics occur. The bus took a whole day and saturated my tolerance for bus transportation so now I am pretty limited as I do not want to see another train (due to India) or a bus. Flying is definitely the way forward maybe not according to green activists who maybe monitoring my carbon footprint. One message to you tree hugging crazy people kiss my kulu.
Upon arrival to Ko Samui we asked the taxi to take us to a hotel etc (cheap and cheerful). The taxi driver sounded desperate in taking us and lowered his rates astonishingly low. I realized on route why. He owed a considerable amount in petrol fees to the local “gas” station as he asked that we pay upfront as well as running on empty the entire journey. We ended up getting a bungalow beside the beach, it was really nice for the 12 GBP we paid. After catching a few well needed zzzzzzzz we set out on exploring the island. Ko Samui is strange the beaches are amazing, long white sandy beaches with turquoise water. However it has been ruined by all the concrete hotels that have been put up all in the name of commercial enterprise. Ah yes should I mention the fact that it is package holiday central. There is a huge strip something similar to San Anton, Cyprus and most probably the infamous Shangluff (magaluf). A strip of filth and sin being practiced upon the hour, lights everywhere. The amount of aussies would make a pub in Southfields look like a tiny gathering in comparison. Last but not least the prostitutes have an innovative way to catch their customers or should I say cliental. Whilst sitting in a bar having a cold Chang I was approached by a beautiful local, hmmm I say to myself this is strange. A “hello my name is Lisa” followed and out of nowhere she manages to produce a full size connect 4 set. I had not played connect 4 for soo long I decided to take her up on her challenge. Let me start by telling you that she must play a hell of a lot and that she should take this up as a career. If there are such a thing as professional connect 4 players. She was unbelievable taking a 6 to 0 lead on my dumbfounded ass. Ok I realised her game pretty quickly but my competitiveness prevailed I was only focused on reducing the deficit and to be victorious. I managed to go on a 4 win streak until we were rudely interrupted by a bar man asking me if I was thirsty. The young lady asked for a cocktail and I a beer. I suddenly realised I was being had, she ordered the most expensive drink in the bar, well it sounded bloody expensive. When the barman returned I saw on the tray the requested cold Chang and a very colourful drink with more umbrellas than a beach in peak season in the Algarve. Infact it looked more like a fruit salad to be honest. I told the barman I was married and that I simply wanted to play connect 4, he replied “ohhh hmmm ok just pay half” I saw this as a lucky escape and handed over the wad of cash.
That was the night I was introduced to the famous Thai bucket. Ok it cannot be emphasized enough at this point (sorry for Z instead of S but this version of word in USA so suck it up guys) just how LETHAL these bad boys are. I went to the bar and asked for a whisky bucked the bar lady fetched a childs sand beach bucket and filled it with ice and cola. I then wondered if this whiskey cola drink actually took any whiskey she saw the expression on my face and told me in an assuring tone and a smile “don’t worry its coming”. A medium size bottle of Teachers whiskey appeared, at this point I was wondering how many shots of whiskey go into these famous buckets. Well the whole bottle was poured I was bamboozled. All this for 5 GBP, it is ridiculous. Well the next day hangover was just as lethal as the buckets. We were all in pain neither one braving the sunlight making sure we were deeply embedded into the duvets.
Full moon party just 48 hours to go. Hmmm we had a great idea lets take the short boat ride to koh pagnan and see where the party will be held etc get our bearings. OF course the plan was to have a quiet one. I was warned that the pre parties are better than the full moon party something that I actually agree with in all honestly. We arrived in Koh Pagnan around 10 pm I came up with an idea of getting a beach hut so as not to return to Koh Samui but to have somewhere on the island to catch some shut eye. At the port a man said he knew a place where they just might have a free hut available as everything was fully booked in the centre. We caught a small boat around the island as this beach is only accessible by boat. This for me was an incredible experience, the moon was out in its full force which produced just enough light allowing us to make out the cliff faces and various features along the island coast. The boat ride lasted 15 mins or so, there was water splashing into the boat and with the moon reflecting off the what seemed a never ending ocean I have to admit coming traveling seemed worth it if not for that view. The taxi driver was funny and whitty constantly talking. We met a really friendly guy traveling also, he was a racer (I think motorbikes) pretty famous I think. We got a great deal and a nice hut just as I had imagined. We set out to Hadrin beach where the full moon party would be held the following day, I noticed that there was no aircon unit in the hut but I simply was too excited to point out my observation and we caught the taxi boat back round. I forgot to mention that there were no ports, the boat simply rides up to the coast and you have to jump out into the shallow water and make your way inland. Hadrin beach looked like it was ready to house the predicted 15,000 people but there were considerably less on that premature night and “I likey” as it was more chilled. A great place to meet people from all over the world and a terrible place to meet all those bogan aussies. We were introduced to an even more lethal bucket on Koh Pagnan. If memory serves me right I believe it was called Samsong or Sumsong. The key ingredient in my opinion has to be the red bull (well a cheaper imitation) which is poured from a flask that looks like it should house poison (which it probably was). You need at least two buckets before this concoction was drinkable. I didn’t feel drunk I felt drugged it’s a weird feeling, I came to a conclusion that I would lay off this stuff and go onto more traditional drinks. We ended up making our way to the hut around 9 am I wasn’t the slightest bit tired it was that poisonous red bull equivalent. We all managed to sleep but were awakened by a serious heat wave which made the hut a microwave, I was absolutely roasting, as fast as I was taking in fluids I was sweating it out. Probably the worst place to house a hangover. In writing this I am realizing that the Full Moon party involved a lot of alcohol. We woke up at 6 pm and set out on a mission to have nice food before the festivities began. Well one very small pizza later we went towards the beach. We met these two guys that were traveling, really nice straight shooter type of people. We chilled at a bar and talked as the party heated up. I felt like shit so I decided to hit the samsong to get me going. One bucket later I was firing on all cylinders and was ready for one more night of excess. The beach was packed, absolutely rammed. As I looked around I appreciated just how great it is to be a male. Our toilet was simply the ocean you could see a row of around 1000 men every one time using the ocean as a urinal. I couldn’t believe it when I saw skinny dippers splashing around in the water really close by. Also I couldn’t believe the amount of shameless people who were having “sexual relations” Bill Clinton style on the beach in front of everyone, I was hoping the Sun Newspaper would be doing an undercover operation where all this would be documented and the people shammed. Apart from that which did have it humorous side the party was great. I had body paints splashed all over me as well as a carefully drawn out Portuguese flag. The music was great as the each bar had a different sound blaring out on to the sandy beach. When you stood between two you felt like you were literally in no mans land. People a meter apart where dancing completely different, what I mean is to different beats. Looking at all the psychedelic moves I was wondering how future generations will be dancing, I felt ridiculous how can this be dancing. Waving arms around, you know which dance moves I mean and we have all be criminally involved.
Knowing that the sweat box hut was waiting Mark and I decided to head back to Samui to the much nicer air conditioned room. We took the fast boat, it really was fast as the name suggested shaving 25 mins off the slow boat journey time. Off to Samui were we slept for 20 hours. Our diet took a turn for the worst we ate mainly shit from 7 – 11. Something I do not want to repeat especially as Thailand has amazing cuisine. Can I point out that I knew before traveling that Weli liked cake and milk and he could eat at all hours. But Mark is something else out so much so I can not watch anymore. Eating at all hours of the day crisps, biscuits and main meals. If there are 200 biscuits he will eat 200 biscuits if there are 10 he will eat 10. Its constant eating pot noodles, crisps, biscuits and general snacks. I always say Mark how can you do this but the kids in denial what can I say he says he has self control and can stop whenever he wants. I gave a clear Pringle case which occurred not too long ago. Once you pop you really cant stop, I would say that the pringle test is a great example of self control. 2 tubes in 2 hours, yeah Mark great self control.
The next day we took the coach upto Bangkok to meet Arts and his parents. We arrived pretty early so I decided to walk around Bangkok with Mark while Weli went to bed in the worst accommodation money couldn’t buy. We saw the monks doing their morning rounds for sustenance i.e. money and food from the people. We walked past the grand palace and kept going through markets and away from Koh Sahn Road. We then made our way to the hotel that Mark had stayed with his parents the last time he was here “Shangrila Hotel” for a breakfast. It was great, we ate along the river and enjoyed a buffet breakfast with all the food we could eat.
Art’s parents had planned a weekend in Pataya a beach resort an hour from Bangkok. Pataya was really nice, the beach was pretty small and I guess it is its close proximity to Bangkok which makes it a perfect weekend getaway. We stayed at an amazing 5 star called the Dusit Thai overlooking the beach. Its dangerous staying in 5 star hotels as we found out the hard way as it is very hard to return to normal housing and accommodation hahaha. Well not much to say about Pataya, it was a more relaxing weekend. We did go to a shooting range with Art’s father to shoot Berettas. That was one heck of an experience you cannot imagine the amount of recoil making films like double impact starring van dame very unreal. Of course I got a better score than Weli which we managed to argue about for hours on end. With Art’s parents they made sure we experienced the Thai cuisine and all its great flavours it had to offer. After Pataya we went back to Bangkok. Again Arts showed us around, on the Monday we visited the Grand Palace which in my opinion be included in the list of the wonders of the world. That night we went for a coffee at a really typical thai place as well as scouring yet another night bazaar. This one was a lot bigger than Chiangmai as to be expected. The following day we drove out of town to visit a floating market. I loved the floating market experience a must do when visiting Thailand. We ate and shopped at the same time, something very right and wrong at the same time. The old ladies would grab onto our boat and pull there boats closer. They would put fruits etc in our faces and give us an elevated price which we would try our best to barter down.
Now the world is very small but when you are in a floating market an hour away from Bamgkok and you come across people you met in Dubai. Did I mention this was not arranged, this was pure chance we met Ahmed Habib, one of Habib Jihad school friends. How weird is that! The last days in Bangkok were creeping up on us. The last day involved plenty of packing and checking out. I made a mistake about the flight to Hanoi for some reason we decided to go to the airport 4 hours early, we just made the flight. Off to Vietnam.
Hope this keeps many of you hard working people busy.
As self proclaimed Chief Editor of this blog I am writing to apologise for not having written anything sooner. There are many in and outs and what have you and so will not go into it. After Chiangmai we went to Ko Samui which is an island in the south about 10mins away from the Koh Pagnan where the full moon antics occur. The bus took a whole day and saturated my tolerance for bus transportation so now I am pretty limited as I do not want to see another train (due to India) or a bus. Flying is definitely the way forward maybe not according to green activists who maybe monitoring my carbon footprint. One message to you tree hugging crazy people kiss my kulu.
Upon arrival to Ko Samui we asked the taxi to take us to a hotel etc (cheap and cheerful). The taxi driver sounded desperate in taking us and lowered his rates astonishingly low. I realized on route why. He owed a considerable amount in petrol fees to the local “gas” station as he asked that we pay upfront as well as running on empty the entire journey. We ended up getting a bungalow beside the beach, it was really nice for the 12 GBP we paid. After catching a few well needed zzzzzzzz we set out on exploring the island. Ko Samui is strange the beaches are amazing, long white sandy beaches with turquoise water. However it has been ruined by all the concrete hotels that have been put up all in the name of commercial enterprise. Ah yes should I mention the fact that it is package holiday central. There is a huge strip something similar to San Anton, Cyprus and most probably the infamous Shangluff (magaluf). A strip of filth and sin being practiced upon the hour, lights everywhere. The amount of aussies would make a pub in Southfields look like a tiny gathering in comparison. Last but not least the prostitutes have an innovative way to catch their customers or should I say cliental. Whilst sitting in a bar having a cold Chang I was approached by a beautiful local, hmmm I say to myself this is strange. A “hello my name is Lisa” followed and out of nowhere she manages to produce a full size connect 4 set. I had not played connect 4 for soo long I decided to take her up on her challenge. Let me start by telling you that she must play a hell of a lot and that she should take this up as a career. If there are such a thing as professional connect 4 players. She was unbelievable taking a 6 to 0 lead on my dumbfounded ass. Ok I realised her game pretty quickly but my competitiveness prevailed I was only focused on reducing the deficit and to be victorious. I managed to go on a 4 win streak until we were rudely interrupted by a bar man asking me if I was thirsty. The young lady asked for a cocktail and I a beer. I suddenly realised I was being had, she ordered the most expensive drink in the bar, well it sounded bloody expensive. When the barman returned I saw on the tray the requested cold Chang and a very colourful drink with more umbrellas than a beach in peak season in the Algarve. Infact it looked more like a fruit salad to be honest. I told the barman I was married and that I simply wanted to play connect 4, he replied “ohhh hmmm ok just pay half” I saw this as a lucky escape and handed over the wad of cash.
That was the night I was introduced to the famous Thai bucket. Ok it cannot be emphasized enough at this point (sorry for Z instead of S but this version of word in USA so suck it up guys) just how LETHAL these bad boys are. I went to the bar and asked for a whisky bucked the bar lady fetched a childs sand beach bucket and filled it with ice and cola. I then wondered if this whiskey cola drink actually took any whiskey she saw the expression on my face and told me in an assuring tone and a smile “don’t worry its coming”. A medium size bottle of Teachers whiskey appeared, at this point I was wondering how many shots of whiskey go into these famous buckets. Well the whole bottle was poured I was bamboozled. All this for 5 GBP, it is ridiculous. Well the next day hangover was just as lethal as the buckets. We were all in pain neither one braving the sunlight making sure we were deeply embedded into the duvets.
Full moon party just 48 hours to go. Hmmm we had a great idea lets take the short boat ride to koh pagnan and see where the party will be held etc get our bearings. OF course the plan was to have a quiet one. I was warned that the pre parties are better than the full moon party something that I actually agree with in all honestly. We arrived in Koh Pagnan around 10 pm I came up with an idea of getting a beach hut so as not to return to Koh Samui but to have somewhere on the island to catch some shut eye. At the port a man said he knew a place where they just might have a free hut available as everything was fully booked in the centre. We caught a small boat around the island as this beach is only accessible by boat. This for me was an incredible experience, the moon was out in its full force which produced just enough light allowing us to make out the cliff faces and various features along the island coast. The boat ride lasted 15 mins or so, there was water splashing into the boat and with the moon reflecting off the what seemed a never ending ocean I have to admit coming traveling seemed worth it if not for that view. The taxi driver was funny and whitty constantly talking. We met a really friendly guy traveling also, he was a racer (I think motorbikes) pretty famous I think. We got a great deal and a nice hut just as I had imagined. We set out to Hadrin beach where the full moon party would be held the following day, I noticed that there was no aircon unit in the hut but I simply was too excited to point out my observation and we caught the taxi boat back round. I forgot to mention that there were no ports, the boat simply rides up to the coast and you have to jump out into the shallow water and make your way inland. Hadrin beach looked like it was ready to house the predicted 15,000 people but there were considerably less on that premature night and “I likey” as it was more chilled. A great place to meet people from all over the world and a terrible place to meet all those bogan aussies. We were introduced to an even more lethal bucket on Koh Pagnan. If memory serves me right I believe it was called Samsong or Sumsong. The key ingredient in my opinion has to be the red bull (well a cheaper imitation) which is poured from a flask that looks like it should house poison (which it probably was). You need at least two buckets before this concoction was drinkable. I didn’t feel drunk I felt drugged it’s a weird feeling, I came to a conclusion that I would lay off this stuff and go onto more traditional drinks. We ended up making our way to the hut around 9 am I wasn’t the slightest bit tired it was that poisonous red bull equivalent. We all managed to sleep but were awakened by a serious heat wave which made the hut a microwave, I was absolutely roasting, as fast as I was taking in fluids I was sweating it out. Probably the worst place to house a hangover. In writing this I am realizing that the Full Moon party involved a lot of alcohol. We woke up at 6 pm and set out on a mission to have nice food before the festivities began. Well one very small pizza later we went towards the beach. We met these two guys that were traveling, really nice straight shooter type of people. We chilled at a bar and talked as the party heated up. I felt like shit so I decided to hit the samsong to get me going. One bucket later I was firing on all cylinders and was ready for one more night of excess. The beach was packed, absolutely rammed. As I looked around I appreciated just how great it is to be a male. Our toilet was simply the ocean you could see a row of around 1000 men every one time using the ocean as a urinal. I couldn’t believe it when I saw skinny dippers splashing around in the water really close by. Also I couldn’t believe the amount of shameless people who were having “sexual relations” Bill Clinton style on the beach in front of everyone, I was hoping the Sun Newspaper would be doing an undercover operation where all this would be documented and the people shammed. Apart from that which did have it humorous side the party was great. I had body paints splashed all over me as well as a carefully drawn out Portuguese flag. The music was great as the each bar had a different sound blaring out on to the sandy beach. When you stood between two you felt like you were literally in no mans land. People a meter apart where dancing completely different, what I mean is to different beats. Looking at all the psychedelic moves I was wondering how future generations will be dancing, I felt ridiculous how can this be dancing. Waving arms around, you know which dance moves I mean and we have all be criminally involved.
Knowing that the sweat box hut was waiting Mark and I decided to head back to Samui to the much nicer air conditioned room. We took the fast boat, it really was fast as the name suggested shaving 25 mins off the slow boat journey time. Off to Samui were we slept for 20 hours. Our diet took a turn for the worst we ate mainly shit from 7 – 11. Something I do not want to repeat especially as Thailand has amazing cuisine. Can I point out that I knew before traveling that Weli liked cake and milk and he could eat at all hours. But Mark is something else out so much so I can not watch anymore. Eating at all hours of the day crisps, biscuits and main meals. If there are 200 biscuits he will eat 200 biscuits if there are 10 he will eat 10. Its constant eating pot noodles, crisps, biscuits and general snacks. I always say Mark how can you do this but the kids in denial what can I say he says he has self control and can stop whenever he wants. I gave a clear Pringle case which occurred not too long ago. Once you pop you really cant stop, I would say that the pringle test is a great example of self control. 2 tubes in 2 hours, yeah Mark great self control.
The next day we took the coach upto Bangkok to meet Arts and his parents. We arrived pretty early so I decided to walk around Bangkok with Mark while Weli went to bed in the worst accommodation money couldn’t buy. We saw the monks doing their morning rounds for sustenance i.e. money and food from the people. We walked past the grand palace and kept going through markets and away from Koh Sahn Road. We then made our way to the hotel that Mark had stayed with his parents the last time he was here “Shangrila Hotel” for a breakfast. It was great, we ate along the river and enjoyed a buffet breakfast with all the food we could eat.
Art’s parents had planned a weekend in Pataya a beach resort an hour from Bangkok. Pataya was really nice, the beach was pretty small and I guess it is its close proximity to Bangkok which makes it a perfect weekend getaway. We stayed at an amazing 5 star called the Dusit Thai overlooking the beach. Its dangerous staying in 5 star hotels as we found out the hard way as it is very hard to return to normal housing and accommodation hahaha. Well not much to say about Pataya, it was a more relaxing weekend. We did go to a shooting range with Art’s father to shoot Berettas. That was one heck of an experience you cannot imagine the amount of recoil making films like double impact starring van dame very unreal. Of course I got a better score than Weli which we managed to argue about for hours on end. With Art’s parents they made sure we experienced the Thai cuisine and all its great flavours it had to offer. After Pataya we went back to Bangkok. Again Arts showed us around, on the Monday we visited the Grand Palace which in my opinion be included in the list of the wonders of the world. That night we went for a coffee at a really typical thai place as well as scouring yet another night bazaar. This one was a lot bigger than Chiangmai as to be expected. The following day we drove out of town to visit a floating market. I loved the floating market experience a must do when visiting Thailand. We ate and shopped at the same time, something very right and wrong at the same time. The old ladies would grab onto our boat and pull there boats closer. They would put fruits etc in our faces and give us an elevated price which we would try our best to barter down.
Now the world is very small but when you are in a floating market an hour away from Bamgkok and you come across people you met in Dubai. Did I mention this was not arranged, this was pure chance we met Ahmed Habib, one of Habib Jihad school friends. How weird is that! The last days in Bangkok were creeping up on us. The last day involved plenty of packing and checking out. I made a mistake about the flight to Hanoi for some reason we decided to go to the airport 4 hours early, we just made the flight. Off to Vietnam.
Hope this keeps many of you hard working people busy.
Monday, 16 February 2009
The Thailand Experience So Far
The last few days in the more luxurious accommodation at Dona Paula Beach in Goa along with a Cathay Pacific flight was a welcome transition to the Thai experience. Landing in Bangkok International airport immediately we noticed the difference in class, order and structure in comparison to Mumbai airport. Infact Bangkok airport made Dubai International look nothing more than mediocre. After obtaining the Thai stamp on our passports our main aim was to find a place to stay. It was yet another all night travel experience. We all agreed that as we were returning to Bangkok after a week in Chiang Mai and the islands in the south we would just party the whole weekend and make visiting tourist attractions a low priority. Well Party is what we did. As far as budgeting is concerned that weekend blew any sort of projected financial plans we may of had for this trip. What happened to the 50p beers I have been told so much of in the UK or the buckets that cost all most next to nothing. Is everything I hear from my friends bullshit? I heard the same about Latvia. Maybe an explanation is time and things always sound a lot better when your telling the story 6 months down the line. This blog will act as my testament, if any of you find me in a pub talking about 50p beers in Thailand you are officially allowed to give me a friendly slap.
Bangkok is great, definitely a passing city, a fantastic place to spend a long weekend. We decided in the Taxi from the airport to go to the Backpacker central area the infamous Koh Sahn Road. We were told by an Australian backpacker on the internal flight from Delhi to Mumbai about a great place to stay behind the Burger King. Hmmm armed with these instructions we attempted to find the place. Surprisingly we found said hostel with relative ease only to find out that it was fully booked. Luckily we ended up staying at a place called “@ Home” right next door. I would have to say that the 5£ per night fee was money well spent. The place was really clean and had air con. I hear there has been lost of snow in London, well in Thailand it averages around 32 degrees. After copping some well needed zzzzzzzz we walked to the crazy Koh Sahn Road. The place is full of lights and food stalls. As you walk from one end to the other you are enticed by all the various foods on show, I find myself constantly eating in Thailand. There are so many distractions on this road that you find 100m takes 1 hour to walk. This place is an obvious tourist trap, no one can deny that but it’s still great fun. We pretty much stayed local the first night enjoying the great variety of Thai beers. We met loads of people mostly backpackers as you do in Thailand everyone sharing their experiences so far giving advice wherever possible. I would say a great way to get intel on various places instead of using the booby-trap that is lonely planet. The following day we definitely dealt with treating our bodies like temples. I would say that we had a typical Paris Hilton day. We woke up very late around 2pm roughly. We then walked to a Spa with the intention of having a Thai Massage. Upon arriving we changed our minds and went for the full treatment this included a facial. I would have to say in the manliest possible way that it was a great hangover cure and definitely something I would do again not just because my skin was silky smooth (hahah) but because of the level of comfort and relaxation I was in., We all came out glowing and fresh and we stumbled across a very interesting food stand. Not like your touristic food stand in Koh Sahn Road where prices are more variable than an oscillating wave. It was a massive food stand with a variety of food being cooked, I wanted to eat everything. The guy working knocked us up a plate each we paid a grand total of 90 Thai Baht thats around 2£ for all three of us. Right next to the stand we helped ourselves to fresh fruit juices. We have been having drinks with ice your perfectly all right in Bangkok.
We had one more night in Bangkok, a Saturday night in Bangkok. We booked coach tickets for Chiang Mai for the following day and we proceeded to focus on the good times. We chilled in Koh Sahn Road for a few drinks ( 3L towers of Chang drop like warm honey) at the Koh Sahn Centre Pub, a really chilled place always packed. We then went to a nightclub nearby, it was really expensive and closed at 1am. We couldn’t accept that it was our time to sleep so we got a Tuk Tuk to a late license place called Sin. We didn’t realise that it was so far and we were 6 in a Tuk Tuk on highway we definitely turned heads. Sin was full of locals and the paranoia starts to kick in “are they really women? ”. We met some cool locals (girls and boys) and they showed us where to go for some local food in Nana. On the way there I couldn’t believe how many old men had Thai young girls on their side hmmmm. The food in Nana was great, it was outdoors under the skyrail, very local as we were the only foreigners there. After eating for the 5th time in 24 hours we called it a night.
The trip to Chiang Mai was ok, we took a coach as I couldn’t take another train after India. It took 12 hours and set us back around 10£. We stopped in a few places to eat and for the smokers to get their fix. We finally got to Chian Mai on Monday morning with Arts ready to pick us up. I would have to say that our time in the north was the best time I have had this holiday and that Arts and his family are the definition of hospitality. He let Weli and Mark stay who he doesn’t know at all. His house was beautiful and very big just outside of central Chiang Mai. The 5 days in the North were jammed packed of things to do. We finally got to a routine of waking up early which has been the vane of the trip so far. Weli is the antichrist of waking up encouraging everyone to lie in and waste away. Always being the last one in the shower so as to catch those valuable 10 mins of sleep. I have started throwing water on him as words are wasted. We stayed in Chiang Mai for a day eating in great places and seeing the sites. Chiang Mai is completely different to Bangkok with very few similarities. Where Bangkok is a perfect city to pass by for a few days, Chiang Mai is the sort of place I would recommend staying if you have the time. We visited on the most famous temples in Chiang Mai as well as passing through the Chiang Mai palace or Kings Residence. I think Alan Titchmarsh would have passed out in a state of extreme pleasure had he seen their gardens. We also saw Chiang Mai university where Arts studied before meeting me at Imperial College last year. The university reminded me more of a Portuguese University more campus based than say UCL, plus they wear uniform. We ate that afternoon near the uni where all the students go.
Arts organised a trip to Pai, which is even further north than Chiang Mai pretty close to the boarder with Burma. The road was old and went around every possible mountain range in Northern Thailand, a hassle to get there but well well worth it. Pai is my favourite place so far on my travels and I will definitely come back in the future. It is a hidden village right in the middle of a valley completely isolated and surrounded by jungle. Our hotel was amazing with a great view of the crystal clean Pai river and an untouched hill side. Absolutely breathtaking. Arts showed me around the site of his new hotel that he is building in Pai. The website is www.montisresort.com i think, it will be opened in Oct 2009, having seen the plans it will be the perfect place to stay and relax. Pai almost reminds me of a village in the alpes minus the snow if that makes sense. That afternoon Arts arranged an elephant ride for all of us at his cousins Elephant farm. I have always wanted to ride an elephant, they are wonderful creatures and very slow. We went for a couple of hours through the jungle bareback, which led to a sore arse for the next few days. That afternoon we managed to also go down Pai river on a bambo raft. Personally that was my favourite experience as the nature was even more untouched and along the river we could see locals and old farming techniques being employed. Of course we made it a race, Art and I on one raft and Weli and Mark on the other. There were some foreigners in Pai, I reckon that in 10 years that will be a definite on backpackers itineraries. The following day we visited one of many waterfalls in the north. It was so big but very picturesque, of course I swam at the bottom, check the pics.
When we returned to Chiang Mai we ate at a great restaurant with Arts Parents, again the food was top quality. The next and final day in Chiang Mai we went for Thai fast food for breakfast right in the centre of the city, behind the historical old walls and moat. I was expecting a McDonalds type restaurant but when Arts said fast food he literally meant it. Upon ordering 4 ladies managed to put the food down in seconds. The food again was really nice and tasty however all this rice is making us all constipated. I need fibre, as soon as I lay my eyes on a pack of All Bran I will not hesitate to over dose my body in the stuff. We spent all day site seeing around the city as well as attending the infamous night Bazaar, where Weli went out of control and bought everything he laid his eyes on. Anyway folks I finally managed to get up-to-date with this blog I have 16 hours ahead of me on this god forsaken trip to the south for the full moon party in Koh Pangan.
Until the next and remember you stay classy San Diego (Ron Burgundy from Anchorman).
Bangkok is great, definitely a passing city, a fantastic place to spend a long weekend. We decided in the Taxi from the airport to go to the Backpacker central area the infamous Koh Sahn Road. We were told by an Australian backpacker on the internal flight from Delhi to Mumbai about a great place to stay behind the Burger King. Hmmm armed with these instructions we attempted to find the place. Surprisingly we found said hostel with relative ease only to find out that it was fully booked. Luckily we ended up staying at a place called “@ Home” right next door. I would have to say that the 5£ per night fee was money well spent. The place was really clean and had air con. I hear there has been lost of snow in London, well in Thailand it averages around 32 degrees. After copping some well needed zzzzzzzz we walked to the crazy Koh Sahn Road. The place is full of lights and food stalls. As you walk from one end to the other you are enticed by all the various foods on show, I find myself constantly eating in Thailand. There are so many distractions on this road that you find 100m takes 1 hour to walk. This place is an obvious tourist trap, no one can deny that but it’s still great fun. We pretty much stayed local the first night enjoying the great variety of Thai beers. We met loads of people mostly backpackers as you do in Thailand everyone sharing their experiences so far giving advice wherever possible. I would say a great way to get intel on various places instead of using the booby-trap that is lonely planet. The following day we definitely dealt with treating our bodies like temples. I would say that we had a typical Paris Hilton day. We woke up very late around 2pm roughly. We then walked to a Spa with the intention of having a Thai Massage. Upon arriving we changed our minds and went for the full treatment this included a facial. I would have to say in the manliest possible way that it was a great hangover cure and definitely something I would do again not just because my skin was silky smooth (hahah) but because of the level of comfort and relaxation I was in., We all came out glowing and fresh and we stumbled across a very interesting food stand. Not like your touristic food stand in Koh Sahn Road where prices are more variable than an oscillating wave. It was a massive food stand with a variety of food being cooked, I wanted to eat everything. The guy working knocked us up a plate each we paid a grand total of 90 Thai Baht thats around 2£ for all three of us. Right next to the stand we helped ourselves to fresh fruit juices. We have been having drinks with ice your perfectly all right in Bangkok.
We had one more night in Bangkok, a Saturday night in Bangkok. We booked coach tickets for Chiang Mai for the following day and we proceeded to focus on the good times. We chilled in Koh Sahn Road for a few drinks ( 3L towers of Chang drop like warm honey) at the Koh Sahn Centre Pub, a really chilled place always packed. We then went to a nightclub nearby, it was really expensive and closed at 1am. We couldn’t accept that it was our time to sleep so we got a Tuk Tuk to a late license place called Sin. We didn’t realise that it was so far and we were 6 in a Tuk Tuk on highway we definitely turned heads. Sin was full of locals and the paranoia starts to kick in “are they really women? ”. We met some cool locals (girls and boys) and they showed us where to go for some local food in Nana. On the way there I couldn’t believe how many old men had Thai young girls on their side hmmmm. The food in Nana was great, it was outdoors under the skyrail, very local as we were the only foreigners there. After eating for the 5th time in 24 hours we called it a night.
The trip to Chiang Mai was ok, we took a coach as I couldn’t take another train after India. It took 12 hours and set us back around 10£. We stopped in a few places to eat and for the smokers to get their fix. We finally got to Chian Mai on Monday morning with Arts ready to pick us up. I would have to say that our time in the north was the best time I have had this holiday and that Arts and his family are the definition of hospitality. He let Weli and Mark stay who he doesn’t know at all. His house was beautiful and very big just outside of central Chiang Mai. The 5 days in the North were jammed packed of things to do. We finally got to a routine of waking up early which has been the vane of the trip so far. Weli is the antichrist of waking up encouraging everyone to lie in and waste away. Always being the last one in the shower so as to catch those valuable 10 mins of sleep. I have started throwing water on him as words are wasted. We stayed in Chiang Mai for a day eating in great places and seeing the sites. Chiang Mai is completely different to Bangkok with very few similarities. Where Bangkok is a perfect city to pass by for a few days, Chiang Mai is the sort of place I would recommend staying if you have the time. We visited on the most famous temples in Chiang Mai as well as passing through the Chiang Mai palace or Kings Residence. I think Alan Titchmarsh would have passed out in a state of extreme pleasure had he seen their gardens. We also saw Chiang Mai university where Arts studied before meeting me at Imperial College last year. The university reminded me more of a Portuguese University more campus based than say UCL, plus they wear uniform. We ate that afternoon near the uni where all the students go.
Arts organised a trip to Pai, which is even further north than Chiang Mai pretty close to the boarder with Burma. The road was old and went around every possible mountain range in Northern Thailand, a hassle to get there but well well worth it. Pai is my favourite place so far on my travels and I will definitely come back in the future. It is a hidden village right in the middle of a valley completely isolated and surrounded by jungle. Our hotel was amazing with a great view of the crystal clean Pai river and an untouched hill side. Absolutely breathtaking. Arts showed me around the site of his new hotel that he is building in Pai. The website is www.montisresort.com i think, it will be opened in Oct 2009, having seen the plans it will be the perfect place to stay and relax. Pai almost reminds me of a village in the alpes minus the snow if that makes sense. That afternoon Arts arranged an elephant ride for all of us at his cousins Elephant farm. I have always wanted to ride an elephant, they are wonderful creatures and very slow. We went for a couple of hours through the jungle bareback, which led to a sore arse for the next few days. That afternoon we managed to also go down Pai river on a bambo raft. Personally that was my favourite experience as the nature was even more untouched and along the river we could see locals and old farming techniques being employed. Of course we made it a race, Art and I on one raft and Weli and Mark on the other. There were some foreigners in Pai, I reckon that in 10 years that will be a definite on backpackers itineraries. The following day we visited one of many waterfalls in the north. It was so big but very picturesque, of course I swam at the bottom, check the pics.
When we returned to Chiang Mai we ate at a great restaurant with Arts Parents, again the food was top quality. The next and final day in Chiang Mai we went for Thai fast food for breakfast right in the centre of the city, behind the historical old walls and moat. I was expecting a McDonalds type restaurant but when Arts said fast food he literally meant it. Upon ordering 4 ladies managed to put the food down in seconds. The food again was really nice and tasty however all this rice is making us all constipated. I need fibre, as soon as I lay my eyes on a pack of All Bran I will not hesitate to over dose my body in the stuff. We spent all day site seeing around the city as well as attending the infamous night Bazaar, where Weli went out of control and bought everything he laid his eyes on. Anyway folks I finally managed to get up-to-date with this blog I have 16 hours ahead of me on this god forsaken trip to the south for the full moon party in Koh Pangan.
Until the next and remember you stay classy San Diego (Ron Burgundy from Anchorman).
Monday, 2 February 2009
Goa by Filipe
The idea of catching a 27 hour train from the infamous Delhi central station to Goa after the chaotic experience of the 17 hour Mumbai to Delhi fiasco made me at least feel physically sick. I decided to unleash a wave of manipulative persuasion on the guys to avoid catching the train not realising that very little was necessary to sway them into catching an internal flight. The decesion was unanimous to go by plane Ahhh the tickets were booked we would be there in 2 hours on Indigo Air for £60.
On arriving to Vasco da Gama I immediately noticed that the aromatic Delhi city smell had been left behind somewhere near the Delhi Central Station area I would imagine. Goa is beautiful and a complete contrast to Mumbai and Delhi. The clean air inflowing into my lungs cleansing my contaminated aveoli and the well preserved architecture from the Portuguese colonial days made me feel just fine and dandy. I didn’t feel that I was in mainland India but more on an island. We decided at the airport that we would go to Arambol beach in the north to live on a beach shack in true hippie fashion. A 1250 rupee taxi ride later we arrived. We had officially arrived in hippie land, dread locks, tattoos covering 90% of all body parts, bob Marley music, musicians, marijuana and all the stereotypical clichés that they are associated with. Everyone was walking around the market stalls in bare foot I could only think of the hygiene risks associated.
On walking onto the sandy beach with the heavy rucksacks that will explain spinal problems when we are all old and grey as we definitely over packed as we seem to be leaving clothes everywhere in an aim of reducing net weight. Mark is definitely the worst of the group having started this epic journey with an astonishing 30 kg on a wheely bag.
In writing this a week later what happened in Goa is pretty cloudy because we pretty much over relaxed and I can’t differentiate between the days and so I will attempt in being as vague as possible with dates. Goa involved a lot of sleeping, drinking, some site seeing and clubbing. We would relax on the beach almost every night and watch the sun set, which is a breathtaking experience and something I never got tired of. We continued the trend of eating local food, having thought we had avoided the dreaded Delhi Belly. Goan food is pretty amazing, the curry is completely different containing a lot less cream etc. One of the days we had fresh fish, Mark and I choose a variety including lobster yummy. What I am about to say might come as an absolute shock to many so brace yourselves for the unveiling of the true Goan experience.
In going to Goa I was expecting on a social and nightlife level crazy psychedelic trance parties on the beaches till the early hours of the following afternoon. I was expecting hippie gatherings around bomb fires on the beach with live music and crazy dancing. Ohh we did scour the beaches for these famous parties (mostly rumours) to no avail. I felt we had to chase the night a bit too hard in Goa, I guess one comparison would be going to Ibiza and spending 4 hours looking for a crowd of people. Ohhh and can I say that the Russians have completely invaded Goa, I found myself picking up a few words in Sputnik.
Goa has beautiful villas left behind by the Portuguese but even more impressive are the various churches scattered around the state. It ponged of typical colonial architecture, having lived in Portugal I could definitely see influences from churches back home. For the last two days we decided to change beach and go to Dona Paula beach near Paniji the capital, we stomped up the cash and stayed in a very nice beach hotel resort. We took advantage of the laundry service provided, which we duly reciprocated with 15kg of laundry. Fresh clothing finally, no fabreeze abuse on the clothes.
The last days in Goa we found ourselves talking about the following destination “Thailand”.
From comments being left, some may think I hate India. I don’t hate India, I just find it unbelievable how they can be so far behind with respect to poverty and service but seem to have one of the fastest growing economies. On leaving Mumbai you have to pass the immigration desk. Now is this coincidence or do these people have absolute power and demonstrate this by not giving a flying f*ck about their jobs. She kept me waiting behind the yellow line for 5 mins whilst she attended to a personal call on her mobile. Ok it could be a family emergency, give her the benefit of the doubt, what about when I was summoned to her desk for her to progress on having another phone conversation. A joke in my opinion.
Saturday, 31 January 2009
NONDAS is getting married
I have it on good authority that Nondas is to be wed by next summer to a russian beauty. I think you will all agree in wishing him the best of luck and raising your glass "nastarovia"
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
CATHAY PACIFIC RATING by Filipe
Many will know from the previous rating of British Airways how the rating system works, for new comers I have shown the various areas that effect us consumers on a flight. BA scored pretty low and generally we were unimpressed. WE will be catching two more BA flights so I am hoping they buckle up their ideas.
Service – Air hostess women ratio and how they served their customers.
Drinks – How free flowing the gins and tonic are i.e. number
Food – How tasty and delicious
Entertainment – The level of entertainment i.e. the system used and films available
Plane – Quality of the plane i.e. how old and finishings
Everything will be out of 5.
Service 5
Drinks 3
Food 4
Plane 3
Entertainment 5
Giving a grand total of 20 out of 25. It was a really pleasant flight with nice air hostesses.
This leaves the scoreboard as:
Cathay Pacific 21
British Airways 14
We all agreed that BA has a long way to go to meet the quality and service and of Cathay Pacific.
The Golden Temple by Filipe Martins
Off to the Sikhs Mecca equivalent the infamous “Golden Temple” in Amritsar. Early start for the third day running, we are on a roll like Japanese tourists fully equipped with the finest digital equipment money can buy, at the peak of the technology. We walk to the dreaded station, New Delhi Central Station. Surprisingly less congested and straight onto the platform where the train was waiting to depart. Instantaneous falling asleep from Weli and me left poor Mark Walker on his “Jack Jones”. He kept himself entertained with his 100th game of risk on Weli’s iphone. We arrive to Amritsar a completely different city (should I say large town) to Mumbai and Delhi. Instantly I notice an exponential increase of turbans and some sort of order. I must say in general the people from Amritsar a more smartly dressed and cleaner with a lot less aggressive begging. We have started to get the haggling technique and we would have got the taxi driver down to half the initial price had it not been for Weli who decided to collapse and cave in like a house of cards. Reasons were that he spoke pretty good English and we could converse with our newly appointed driver. Well we went on to find out that there was a secret parking charge of 50 rupees that he had conveniently forgotten to mention. Anyway just another wheeler dealer to add to the fine collection we are amassing on our journeys.
We get dropped off a good 500m from the golden temple, immediately from a distance we see a grand white gate similar to the Taj I guess. We take off our shoes and drop off our bags and we walk towards the spectacle. Separating the outside and the gate is a small puddle of water used to wash worshipers’ feet before entering. Having cut the underside of my feet I jumped over it in the hope of avoiding submerging my foot in the dark coloured water. Unfortunately to no avail I was warned harshly with a guard holding a spear, I did as was told instantly with a big smile on my face. Immediately the golden temple stood out like a white tourist in New Delhi downtown market. It is an amazing building surrounded by walls and a disused Mosque. As the name suggests it was very golden so there were no surprises on that front. The Sikhs were bathing in the glistening turquoise water surrounding the golden temple, immediately I drew similarities with other religions and the role of water. Inside the golden temple what I guessed as being the top people in the religion were sitting with one side filled with women and a band. Two guys on an accordion piano player singing (I think praying). Fists full of cash being thrown towards the officials it looked more like a central bank than a temple for one second. The site it amazing and worth the visit or should I say the 12 hour trains there and back. This part of India is not so well documented in the Lonely Planet guide and it shows. We saw very few if any tourists. Like the Taj Mahal the Golden Temple is magnificent. Off to Goa people!!!!!!!
I would like to say we are all pleased (Weli, Mark and I) with the reaction towards this blog. With all the long train journeys we have time to write and fill you all in on our experiences. Feel free to reply to the posts!!!! For those less articulate people that is a hint.
We get dropped off a good 500m from the golden temple, immediately from a distance we see a grand white gate similar to the Taj I guess. We take off our shoes and drop off our bags and we walk towards the spectacle. Separating the outside and the gate is a small puddle of water used to wash worshipers’ feet before entering. Having cut the underside of my feet I jumped over it in the hope of avoiding submerging my foot in the dark coloured water. Unfortunately to no avail I was warned harshly with a guard holding a spear, I did as was told instantly with a big smile on my face. Immediately the golden temple stood out like a white tourist in New Delhi downtown market. It is an amazing building surrounded by walls and a disused Mosque. As the name suggests it was very golden so there were no surprises on that front. The Sikhs were bathing in the glistening turquoise water surrounding the golden temple, immediately I drew similarities with other religions and the role of water. Inside the golden temple what I guessed as being the top people in the religion were sitting with one side filled with women and a band. Two guys on an accordion piano player singing (I think praying). Fists full of cash being thrown towards the officials it looked more like a central bank than a temple for one second. The site it amazing and worth the visit or should I say the 12 hour trains there and back. This part of India is not so well documented in the Lonely Planet guide and it shows. We saw very few if any tourists. Like the Taj Mahal the Golden Temple is magnificent. Off to Goa people!!!!!!!
I would like to say we are all pleased (Weli, Mark and I) with the reaction towards this blog. With all the long train journeys we have time to write and fill you all in on our experiences. Feel free to reply to the posts!!!! For those less articulate people that is a hint.
Delhi “Planes, trains and automobiles” The Real Surprise by Filipe Martins
Welcome to New Dehli Central Station, the thriving capital of the rapidly rising India. On a personal level I was expecting a fusion of old and new i.e. new high rise offices blended into the old down town (colonial style buildings) skyline, where is all this money going ? Definitely not Mumbai or infrastructure. The roads are truly horrendous; nothing is completely finished, it’s all half jobs, semi complete, unfinished. Mumbai and Delhi would look a hell of a lot nicer if the locals didn’t litter so much. They throw everything on the floor which then gets comprehensively mixed in with the cow shit to give modern day manure, regrettably not odourless. Down town Delhi does have a certain something, I just can’t put my finger on it.
An English backpacker (cliché backpacker with dreds) told me that India is a unique place in this world where the extremes are witnessed and experienced. For instance people have very good experiences and very bad experiences, the people are either very rich or very poor and so on. He unquestionably has a very long way in order to find himself (idiot).
My first impressions with Delhi were horrible; similar to Mumbai this place takes a day just to adjust to the cheap traders that swarm the white tourists like flies to a strategically placed cow pat. After a 16 hour train journey on the infamous 2nd AC coach, which in fairness was quite reasonable minus the heavy snoring from our neighbour Panesh. A chubby Indian businessman who has a skinny sidekick partner, looked more like little and large. A random man asked for our tickets outside the train station, as I proceeded to carry on walking and ignore him, he shouted “No ticket, where have you come from? Come here”, I followed with a polite reply along the lines of “where is your badge if you work for the station? %*ck off”. I guess the moment he told us the ticket office was down an adjacent dark alley way I smelled a scam.
As we are attempting to travel India minus a guide book we had a very vague idea of the whereabouts of the luxurious backpacker hotel we booked. Now came a series of harassing cheap traders from all angles, taxies on my right offering me rip off prices for 5min journey, travel agents trying to convince me that the painted “Govt. Approved” meant that there travel agents was official. He may not have realised that his neighbouring competitors also supported that logo. Finally we got to the hotel.
The best experience I can draw from India without a shadow of a doubt is the food. The traditional curries have been of the highest standard, even when eating from local eateries on the street in the downtown area where we are staying. In terms of “pleasant surprises” one would have to be not getting the dreaded Delhi Belly aka the squirts. The city definitely looks better at night when the beautiful old buildings i.e. Indian, British and Mogul don’t look so run down and neglected. One lesson that all visitors learn most probably the hard way is to haggle for better prices, definitely a way of life integrated into every local. The visit to the Taj Mahal has to be a highlight also, the site is unbelievable. Like the photos you see as a child it really is worth seeing up close even if just to see the sheer scale of the project and its perfect symmetry. The coach trip to Agra further confirmed Indian driving as being the most dangerous radical sport around. If you are a thrill seeker I suggest you rent a small to medium size car and do a road trip around India, making sure you experience Mumbai Madness and Delhi Traffic.
Just getting around Delhi is a mental and physical struggle. You can be smack in the middle of the downtown area which probably has the highest street seller per m2 in the world and have a small horde of cattle walk past you like a south west London gang. I can’t believe they have urbanised cows. I have yet to find a peaceful side of Delhi but I am sure they exist, almost certainly nearer the richer side of Delhi i.e. Embassy Road. However even the wealthier areas of Delhi lack that final finish that would have me making comparisons with Eaton Square or the Hamptons in NY. What happened to the grand houses with 100 caretakers and gardeners carrying out precision hedge cutting and maintenance to historical mansion houses? Is this a British Colonial myth that these stately homes exist in India?
The days in Delhi have been early starts with action packed intense days. I am writing this entry as we make our way by train to the North of India. Our primary aim is to see the Golden Temple. It is a smash and grab as we are taking a six hour train there and a six hour train back to stay for 2 hours. The Golden Temple better be worth it.
We decided to avoid catching the Delhi-Goa train like the plague. A grand total of 27 hours WOW 27 hours, that is a huge number, so we booked an internal flight to make sure we get a weekend in Goa. I can’t wait to go to the land of hippies. To conclude Delhi would have to be the land of the free........ oppps sorry I mean street hustlers, they could flog a donkey as a rare racing fully bred Arabian horse to even the experts.
Delhi....A Pleasant Surprise by Abdiwali "Wordsworth" Elmi
On arriving at Delhi, poverty stricken Mumbai was still fresh in my mind, I thought surely it can only get better from here...after all it is the capital? This thought however was sadly unhinged by a quick blackberry messenger chat with Bal who went about explaining his previous experience there, some 10 years ago.
On arriving at Delhi Station we were harassed by a few locals, but by now we had come accustomed to this hustle and so proceeded without care as they fought for our attention to no avail. Outside the station looked much like sights in Mumbai and so looking at Marks & Fil’s face I could see they were already thinking....not this again! Some guy at the exit tried hustle us majorly. With no form of ID or Police badge, he went about trying to order us to a dark alley, Fil politely told him to go and eat Camel Shit. We knew our hotel wasn’t far from the station so we took a rigsaw, you know just to do the touristy thing, as you do. Before starting off we agreed upon a fixed price of 40rupees but upon arrival, which was incidentally only 150m away (but the guy choose a 5min scenic route around the ghettos), he was trying to get 140rupees per person. I think the guy was just trying his luck, because once quizzed he laughed himself before riding off.
The hotel we checked into was pretty good, well by that I mean it looked like what was advertised online. But by following the lonely planet guide we inevitably ended up at backpacker grand central of Delhi. That afternoon after lunch and a quick power nap we went sightseeing. We order a cab to whisk us around from sight to sight. We visited The Gate of India..a poor man’s Marble Arch, Numerous temples, Parliament (pretty impressive) , home of the president, Red Fort (a mohessive structure, again pretty impressive) and a few others. During this journey one thing that struck me was unlike Mumbai, central Delhi is a functioning city with effective roads, traffic lights, parks, lights, buildings etc. Further unlike Mumbai Delhi had little or no beggars, which made walking the street alot more relaxing. I mean you still had the people who wanted you to come into their shop every 10m, but that I can accept, people got to get paid. One thing I’m still amused by thou is the number of cows you see just roaming the roads in Delhi..these guys are chilling.
On arriving at Delhi Station we were harassed by a few locals, but by now we had come accustomed to this hustle and so proceeded without care as they fought for our attention to no avail. Outside the station looked much like sights in Mumbai and so looking at Marks & Fil’s face I could see they were already thinking....not this again! Some guy at the exit tried hustle us majorly. With no form of ID or Police badge, he went about trying to order us to a dark alley, Fil politely told him to go and eat Camel Shit. We knew our hotel wasn’t far from the station so we took a rigsaw, you know just to do the touristy thing, as you do. Before starting off we agreed upon a fixed price of 40rupees but upon arrival, which was incidentally only 150m away (but the guy choose a 5min scenic route around the ghettos), he was trying to get 140rupees per person. I think the guy was just trying his luck, because once quizzed he laughed himself before riding off.
The hotel we checked into was pretty good, well by that I mean it looked like what was advertised online. But by following the lonely planet guide we inevitably ended up at backpacker grand central of Delhi. That afternoon after lunch and a quick power nap we went sightseeing. We order a cab to whisk us around from sight to sight. We visited The Gate of India..a poor man’s Marble Arch, Numerous temples, Parliament (pretty impressive) , home of the president, Red Fort (a mohessive structure, again pretty impressive) and a few others. During this journey one thing that struck me was unlike Mumbai, central Delhi is a functioning city with effective roads, traffic lights, parks, lights, buildings etc. Further unlike Mumbai Delhi had little or no beggars, which made walking the street alot more relaxing. I mean you still had the people who wanted you to come into their shop every 10m, but that I can accept, people got to get paid. One thing I’m still amused by thou is the number of cows you see just roaming the roads in Delhi..these guys are chilling.
First blog – Weli Elmi
Well here I am currently on an 18 hour train journey from Mumbai to Delhi. I apologise to those who have been eagerly awaiting my first blog....particularly Zish...... I’ve been busy snapping necks and spending those cheques (that’s right plural). Dubai now seems like a distant memory. Besides the over spend Dubai was nice and relaxing...chilli chill as some might put it. I think Fil did well in updating everyone on our whereabouts so I’ll leave my experience to his account. However I would like to reiterate The Burj colossal size....engineering has come far people. Also Habib/Firas’s crib gets a special mention...niiiiiiice(south park style) and finally special thanks to my Mum/Nasir n Bal for your efforts in ensuring we are reconnected with our malaria tablets and my credit card..much appreciated.
So India..MUMBAI...I disagree with the camp on this one. ...Here is my experience...
On arriving at Mumbai the first thing that hit me was the number of people outside, impressive I though bearing in mind our flight landed at 4am. The smell wasn’t the warmest of welcomes but manageable contrary to Fil’s blog...but still a shock. I think Marks views of the cab journey express my own. But amid the rush and confusion I did see order...it was what Massi would refer to as controlled hastiness. An order which was based on EVERYONE doing as they pleased such that, if everyone stuck to this system then it worked, but if just one person didn’t then it failed. By the end of the journey I felt safe in the hands of the driver as I began to understand the laws of the roads. I recall sitting back during this journey and being overwhelmed by everything around me with the thought of Zish and Ahsan in my head saying “this boy has never left England he hasn’t seen ghetto”(in their many Pakistan stories)....guys its true, before now I ain’t see shit!. It has been an eye opener though and probably the cultural highlight of my trip so far.
So Mumbai...besides the shanty buildings and pot hole filled roads, it had a buzz similar to the narrow roads of Brick Lane in the evenings. Where every shop owner entices you to spend that much sought after foreign money. Only difference was, here there is no etiquette of approach, people instead Sam grab your ass and follow you until you go at least 50m past their shop....... O’ and then there is the NAGGERS. At first I felt sorry and so went about politely declining their advances, until I realised that’s the green light they’re looking for. From then on in, they follow you around and touch you up until you want to punch them away. I give them credit thou them guys are resilient and determined.
Mumbai potentially has the potential to be a great city, but first they need to start investing seriously, and I’m not talking about installing a metro or building skyscrapers (like Dubai), but instead something much simpler, just clean the streets and maintain the buildings. They have a scenic selection of old colonial buildings, still standing.............but barley and I mean barely! Anyhow the train ride is finally coming to an end and so until next time from Delhi baby....adios. Hopefully Delhi being the capital will offer more in the way of culture for culture vultures like us ;)
So India..MUMBAI...I disagree with the camp on this one. ...Here is my experience...
On arriving at Mumbai the first thing that hit me was the number of people outside, impressive I though bearing in mind our flight landed at 4am. The smell wasn’t the warmest of welcomes but manageable contrary to Fil’s blog...but still a shock. I think Marks views of the cab journey express my own. But amid the rush and confusion I did see order...it was what Massi would refer to as controlled hastiness. An order which was based on EVERYONE doing as they pleased such that, if everyone stuck to this system then it worked, but if just one person didn’t then it failed. By the end of the journey I felt safe in the hands of the driver as I began to understand the laws of the roads. I recall sitting back during this journey and being overwhelmed by everything around me with the thought of Zish and Ahsan in my head saying “this boy has never left England he hasn’t seen ghetto”(in their many Pakistan stories)....guys its true, before now I ain’t see shit!. It has been an eye opener though and probably the cultural highlight of my trip so far.
So Mumbai...besides the shanty buildings and pot hole filled roads, it had a buzz similar to the narrow roads of Brick Lane in the evenings. Where every shop owner entices you to spend that much sought after foreign money. Only difference was, here there is no etiquette of approach, people instead Sam grab your ass and follow you until you go at least 50m past their shop....... O’ and then there is the NAGGERS. At first I felt sorry and so went about politely declining their advances, until I realised that’s the green light they’re looking for. From then on in, they follow you around and touch you up until you want to punch them away. I give them credit thou them guys are resilient and determined.
Mumbai potentially has the potential to be a great city, but first they need to start investing seriously, and I’m not talking about installing a metro or building skyscrapers (like Dubai), but instead something much simpler, just clean the streets and maintain the buildings. They have a scenic selection of old colonial buildings, still standing.............but barley and I mean barely! Anyhow the train ride is finally coming to an end and so until next time from Delhi baby....adios. Hopefully Delhi being the capital will offer more in the way of culture for culture vultures like us ;)
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