Terry's Trek
 Three years of wandering
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The Spell
January 01, 2003
Koh Tao, Thailand

It's easy to see how you could get sucked in to staying here for months. Just stay for a few more weeks until the weather gets better to do some good dives. Then stay another week to do the Rescue Diver course, and dive some more. Then you might as well go for Divemaster. Then get a job, but the money's in teaching, so you have to go for Instructor. Now your 'e set to stay in paradise indefinitely. This is exactly what happened to Henrick. After a month of sitting around reading a smoking weed, he figured he should try diving, which he had never done before. Eight months later he was an instructor, and now he's been here 14 months. If you think that's good, Nils has been here ten years, speaks fluent Thai, and has a Thai wife with a baby on the way. I better get out of here before I become a resident. But the weather gets better in a couple weeks...

That's the great thing about traveling with no onward ticked. I can stay here as long as I like, then go where I want. I've talked to a bunch of travelers who have recommended Koh Samui, Phuket, and some other islands I can't remember. The last one I talked to, a Swiss woman drawn to the mystical wonders of my banana pancake, said she absolutely loved Koh Pha Ngan. That's the island immediately to the south, and even though it's bigger and more developed it has what Koh Tau lacks: beaches. It's about time for some R&R.

Oh, and what did I do today? Nothin'. But it would be nice to do nothin' on a nice beach.

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Time to Go
January 02, 2003
Koh Tao, Thailand

I walked to Mae Haad to buy a ferry ticket to my next island when the rain finally stopped. The walk is even more treacherous after rain, since large parts of the road are underwater, and the patches where the concrete has collapsed and were patched with dirt are now huge holes. But I got the ticket from one of the dozens of one-stop shops. I would later learn the boat was nearly empty, so I could have bought my ticket at the pier from one of the people shouting "ticket" at people with backpacks on. That's another argument for a tiny pack; when people see you with a big pack on they assume you need a ticket, or a taxi, or accommodation. You probably do need that stuff, but it's a bit annoying.

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Same Same But Different
January 03, 2003
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

Home sweet bungalow

The pier was packed with farangs waiting for their boats. Everyone must be leaving after the New Years festivities. After my shitty bungalow on Koh Tau, I was going to ignore the touts and find a place on my own, but there were no touts. According to people I had talked to there are lots of secluded beaches here, perfect for a romantic get away. But since I'm traveling alone I wanted to be close to the action, so I took a taxi to Haad Rin Nok, the main party beach and site of the Full Moon parties. What a shithole. The "town" consists entirely of travel agent/currency exchange/internet cafes shops, convenience stores, and the generic resort restaurants that all serve the same weird mix of Thai, Chinese, Italian, Mexican, and Israeli food. After wandering around for awhile looking at the shitty bungalows I could get for 300 Baht, I wandered up the hilly road going out of town, and stumbled upon the Hua Laem resort. This place is exactly what I've been looking for. My clean bungalow is up on a cliff overlooking the waves crashing on the rocks below. It's peaceful and secluded and has friendly Thai proprietor, unlike the jaded Thais of Koh Tau. And a 15 minute walk through the jungle takes me to the Haad Rin. And it's only 250 Baht a night, or $6, the same price I paid on Koh Tau.

After moving in I went to check out the beach, and was pretty disappointed. It looks like the tide comes in during the day, so it's mostly underwater. Worst of all is that the tide brings in all kinds of crap, so the beach is littered with leaves, sticks, and bottles. Not having the energy to go elsewhere I planted myself there. Little Thai ladies covered from head to toe in hats, sunglasses, long-shirts, and trousers (I dub them the beach ladies) come by from time to time touting massages. I know what you're thinking, but Thai massage is a legitimate form of massage, and a full body one only costs $5, so I agreed. If you're accustomed to Swedish massages, what we normally associate with the term "massage," a Thai massage can be a rude awakening, since they sit on you and bend you in to strange positions to crack your joints. If you know what you're getting in to it's not so bad, though.

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Vacation from my Vacation
January 04, 2003
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

Happy bay

I laid on the beach today. The place I had dinner at showed "The Beach;" it was truly awful, read the book instead. Unfortunately there are no people here in spacesuites like in the film. In fact, the place seems rather dead. Even the nightclubs on the beach are empty, a fact that doesn't stop them from blasting bass all night.

Now, time for the essay. The book "The Beach," and not the film, captures the backpackers' quest for their own paradise. Twenty years ago they "discovered" the island of Koh Samui. More and more people came, and now it has an airport and is a full-fledged resort. So ten years ago they moved to the next island, my current home, Koh Pha Ngan. In 1990 there were 30 bungalows here, today there are 3000+. So in the book they went to the only place the hordes of tourists can't come: an island in the Ang Thong Marine Park. Incidentally I've been trying to get to Ang Thong, but they won't go with just one person. Aparently nobody else is interested.

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Foot Massage
January 05, 2003
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

I walked in to one of the dozens of massage shops (again, not what you're thinking) and asked for a foot massage. Once again this proved to be a rather uncomfortable experience, involving a stick being poked into the sensitive soles of my feet, making me wince in pain. Beware any massage in which the masseuse has to frequently ask if you're OK. An interesting thing she said was that since they studied American English, they have trouble understanding English people. I'm glad I'm not the only one!

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Steep Trail
January 06, 2003
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

Nice view

According to my map I could walk through the jungle over the mountain to the next beach. The trail was marked "steep trail," which proved to be an understatement. In fact, it wasn't really a trail at all, so I had to follow the blue plastic water pipes up the mountain, scrambling up rocks and over roots and vines, through tall grasses and weeds, and over streams. Worst of all was the fact that even though I was climbing a mountain and could hear the sea crashing below, I could never see it, so I didn't get any photos, which was the whole point. When I emerged from the jungle a Thai guy saw me and asked incredulously if I walked. I answered affirmatively, and he just said "shit!"

The place I came out was a secluded beach with only a few bungalows and hardly any people. The only way to get there is by boat (or through the jungle if you're stupid). So I took a nap on the beach before catching the taxi boat back to Haad Rin.

That night I went to one of the few restaurants that specialize in one thing, an Indian place, run by actual Indians. Their lassis were much better than the "lassis" the Thais make. It was expensive ($5), but worth it.

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New(d) Beach
January 07, 2003
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

Another day at the beach

I walked over to the beach on the other side of Haad Rin. It was nice, and wasn't totally underwater or covered with garbage. It was a perfect day: bright and sunny, and there was no wind, so the sea was calm for a change. This seemed to be the French beach, judging by all the people speaking French, and the fact that everyone was topless. So I put in a full day of beach laying/swimming. That night I went to an "Italian" restaurant, but there are no Italians here, so the food wasn't quite right. I think I'll give the "Mexican" place a miss.

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Motocross Madness
January 08, 2003
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

Just another bay in paradise

I wanted to see some of the island, so I rented a motorbike, a decision which proved to be foolish. First I looked in to jeep tours, but like the trip to Ang Thong nobody else is interested. So I considered taxis, but that would get expensive for one person. Instead I figured I'd do the motorbike thing for only 150 Baht.

Unfortunately, I had never driven a motorbike before, and Thailand is not the best place to learn. After the rental lady gave me cursory instructions on how to operate the death machine, supplemented by some passing English people, she started the bike, and I drove slowly through the crowded streets to a gas station. A nice Thai lady deployed my kick-stop, filled up the tank using the strange siphons, then started the bike for me.

After getting out of the busy streets of Haad Rin, the road, which was concrete, thankfully, became very hilly and windy. The first big hill I came to I couldn't make it up in second, so I tried to downshift into first, and stalled halfway up. Luckily some nice Thais passing by started the bike for me.

After breaking all the way down a particularly steep hill, then limping up the next, there was a curve at the top, and a taxi coming towards me. I lost control and wiped out, scraping up my right hand and elbow. Nothing like the South African girls' injuries, but painful and anyoing nonetheless. I finally flagged down some Thais to start the bike, then headed back to town. The funny thing is I started to enjoy the bike as I got close to town. The roads are too crazy for me here, though. So after an hour I returned the bike, paid the 700 Baht in damages I did to it, and went to one of the many "nursing units" to have my wounds cleaned and dressed. All told the fiasco cost me 1000 Baht, about $25. At least I finally figured out how to use the kick-stand!

Then I did what I should have done first and had a taxi take me to some sites. First I saw some waterfalls. After New Zealand I didn't think I wanted to see a waterfall again, but these were neat because there was nothing stopping you from climbing right out on the rocks and looking over the edge. I'm sure in the US it would all have been fenced off. Then I climbed up another crazy Thai "trail" to a great mountain viewpoint over the forest of palm trees out to the ocean and Koh Samu beyond. Finally I had the driver take me to the Marble Budah, which was dilapidated and deserted. All told the three hours of sightseeing cost me $12. Exorbitantly expensive, but less than the motorbike fiasco.

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Island In The Sun
January 09, 2003
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand

When you're on a holiday
You can't find the words to say
All the things that come to you
And I wanna feel it too

On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can't control my brain

When you're on a golden sea
You don't need no memory
Just a place to call your own
As we drift into the zone

On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can't control my brain

We'll run away together
We'll spend some time forever
We'll never feel bad anymore

On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can't control my brain

We'll run away together
We'll spend some time forever
We'll never feel bad anymore

We'll never feel bad anymore
No no
We'll never feel bad anymore
No no
No no
No no

--lyrics by Weezer

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The Refugee Boat Revisited
January 10, 2003
The Night Boat to Suranthani, Thailand

Travel in Thailand is ridiculously easy. Well, arranging it is, at least. I just walked in to a travel agent in Haad Rin, said I wanted to go to Khao Sok, and the guy made a phone call and wrote me three tickets. That night a taxi took me to the pier and I boarded another refugee boat, which arrived at Suranthani at 4 am. After 15 minutes of confusion about weather or not to get off, since there was no anouncement, I staggered off and found a taxi waiting for everyone else. That took us to the travel agent where we watched "Bad Company," a bad movie, and two hours later a guy on a motorbike took me to the bus station, which featured a rooster crowing loudly every few minutes. The only snafu was that the "air con bus" turned out to be a pickup truck, so I had to spend the two hour trip in the back.

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Thai Disneyland
January 11, 2003
Khao Sok National Park, Thailand

Frodo partakes of a bucket

This place seems like a Thai version of Disneyland, with "resorts" lining the road leading to the park. The resorts are the same type of places as on the islands with crappy restaurants and travel agents on site. The one I ended up at is a bit crummy and dirty, but a bungalow only costs $5 a night, and I like Spike, the Aussie who runs the place. All the resorts seem to feature an English or Aussie expat.

I wanted to do the elephant thing, so I got Mai, an Israeli girl fresh out of the army who's staying there to go with me. She's been away two weeks and is very homesick. Her sister traveled for a year and went to Tibet, so I was excited to hear travel there is possible. As for riding an elephant, I'm glad I did it, but it's something I'll never do again. Thankfully they don't whip the elephants since they respond to voice commands, but they keep them chained up on very short chains. The ride itself was bumpy and uncomfortable enough to make me sick to my stomach and we felt like we were going to fall out of the chair. On the way back I sat behind our elephant's ears, which was even more uncomfortable. One thing I never realized was how hairy elephants are. I guess they are mammals, after all.

I wanted to go camping in the jungle, so Spike connected me with five Canadian stoners who were sort of interested. After much debate on price, Spike produced a six-inch cockroach marinated in "fish sauce" and offered whoever ate it free camping. Lorn, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Frodo the hobbit actually considered this disturbing offer, so Spike assured him that all Thais eat cockroaches. So Lorn ate the thing, which he said was the most disgusting thing you could ever imagine. After a laugh Spike informed us that nobody eats those things except one crazy guy who lives there. The Canadians will be going camping, though.

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There I Was, There I Was, There I Was... In the Jungle
January 13, 2003
Khao Sok National Park, Thailand

Another steep trail

Spike hooked us up with two guides, one who speaks English and one who doesn't, and we set out on our ill-fated camping trip. When I signed up for jungle camping, I envisioned whipping out the machetes and heading deep in to the forest primeval. Instead we walked a half an hour down a road where our guide said we would set up camp at the top of a "waterfall," which turned out to be about two inches high. Then our guide wanted us to rest for an hour before setting out again. After 30 minutes the Canadians couldn't wait anymore so we set out with the guy that doesn't speak English, since the other guy was busy cutting bamboo. Since our guide couldn't talk to us, he just followed us where we wanted to go. But it turns out there are only two trails: a long one and a short one, so we didn't need a guide. We took the long trail, 7 km each way, which led past several waterfalls to a waterfall. In typical Asian fashion the trail was insane, going straight up and down at times requiring you to climb up and rappel down using vines. There were plenty of refreshing waterfalls to bathe in, though. Five hours later we got back and the main guide made dinner for us. This was the one good thing about the trip, because it was an amazing bamboo BBQ. The bamboo he had cut down he made in to bowls by cutting it in half, which we filled with BBQ chicken, curry vegetables, and rice cooked in banana leafs. Hands-down the best Thai food I've ever had.

The night safari promised to us never materialized, and the Canadians were out of water since they had been more concerned about their supply of ganja and alcohol, so three of them went back. I stayed to sleep in the jungle like I wanted, and even though we weren't that deep in the forest, there were still lots of strange jungle noises to listen to.

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It's a Jungle Out There
January 14, 2003
Khao Sok National Park, Thailand

Captive elephant

We walked back to the park entrance, further destroying the illusion of being deep in the jungle, then those of us remaining set out on the other trail. It was same same but different, as the Thais say. It was an easier trail, since no rappelling or climbing was required, and it was nice to sit under the waterfall at the end. The Canadians were getting annoying because they wouldn't stop complaining about the trip. When we got back Spike reduced the price from $30 to $10, so it was all good.


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Boating, Treking, and Caving
January 15, 2003
Khao Sok National Park, Thailand

Silly tourist

I wanted to see the big lake, formed by a dam, so I signed up for a tour. It would have been nice to have a group of three or four people and arrange it independently. As it was I was a part of a group of 12 English and there was another group of 12 English behind us, so it was tourist central. The long boat ride was nice, though, since the lake is surrounded by dramatic mountains the likes of which I've never seen. I'm used to mountains being tall and jagged, but these were short and curvey, and even though they were sheer rock, trees covered their faces.

Then we had another jungle trek to a cave, which proved to be interesting. The guides warned us we'd have to swim, but said it was OK to bring cameras. I wish I had left mine, since I was worried about it the whole time. The cave was very dark and featured bats and huge spiders. There was much wading through waist-deep water with my flashlight in my mouth and my camera above my head. At one point we had to give our cameras to the guide and swim a short distance with one hand holding our flashlights out of the water. My camera still works, and I have some neat photos.

That night one of the resorts, run by a Thai guy called "Rambo," had a Western-style BBQ which some of us partook of. It would prove to be my undoing...

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Puking & Pooping
January 16, 2003
Khao Sok National Park, Thailand

Last night before bed the stomach pain began, followed by the double wammy of diarrhea and vomiting. I eventually got tired of trying to fight my way out of the mosquito net to get to the bathroom every hour, so I took the little bowl you use to flush the toilet in to bed with me so I could conveniently throw up without getting up. I never puked so much in my life. I couldn't even keep water down. After 12 hours of puking I was worried about dehydration, so I decided to try to oral rehydration solution I've been carrying around, which I promptly puked up. It tasted like crap, anyway. Around noon I was out of water, running a fever, and incapable of walking to the store, so I appealed to a random Irish guy to get me some water. I was finally able to keep it down, so I slept the rest of the day.

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Travel Day
January 17, 2003
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

This morning my fever was gone and I was able to walk, but I still felt queasy. I was able to eat a nasty omelette from the "hello, how are you? OK, thank you" lady, then caught the local bus to Suranthani. Again travel proved to be a non-issue, since they dropped all the farangs off at a travel agent, where I bought a ticket to KL for $25. So four hours by minibus to Hat Yai, then nine hours by "VIP bus" to KL. Going through immigration was easy, and the Malaysian official even took my arrival card and stamped my passport this time. We stopped at a roadside restaurant in Malaysia, and I asked one of the Muslim ladies for soup, and was pleasantly reminded of Malaysians' excellent English. Anyway I ate the broth and left the dodgy bits of beef.

Malaysia and Thailand are like night and day. As soon as you cross the border you see strip malls covered with advertisements, many which light up with names like Sony, Panasonic, etc. The majority of vehicles on the road are cars rather than pickup trucks, motorbike drivers actually wear helmets, and there are no roving packs of dogs.

I got in to KL at 3 am and told the taxi to take me to a cheap hotel since I was pretty tired. It cost me the princely sum of $20 and was pretty austere, but featured some luxuries I wasn't used to such as hot water, a bathroom mirror, a toilet that flushes, soap to wash your hands with, air conditioning, and even a sheet on the bed! Such luxury!

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Back Home Again in KL
January 18, 2003
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

It's strange that a place that seemed so foreign a few weeks ago seems so familiar now. It feels good to be back in a place I know. I moved back in to the wonderful Pondok Lodge, and the guys who run it said Maurice checked in yesterday so I left him a message. I was still feeling queasy, so I set out for some leisurely book shopping. Turns out there are no good bookstores in any of the malls on Jalam Bukit Bintang (I love saying that), so I ended up at the huge mall in the Petronas Towers, where I picked up Lonely Planets on Myanmar and Tibet. I really want to go to these places, but I get stressed out thinking about coming back for Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. Maybe I'll have to cut those countries out. Whatever the case, if I make it to Tibet I'll definitely have to play things by ear, and may end up crossing in to China from there. However, I would like to see Angkor Wat, and do have to goal of traveling from Singapore to London by land, so I may come back for a cursory tour.

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Thaipusam
January 19, 2003
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

The Hindu festival of Thaipusam was definitely worth backtracking 15 hours to see. The place was packed (reportedly 1.5 million people were there), noisy, and smelly. It was like a huge carnival with Ferris wheels and vendors lining the streets. Of course the reason I came was to see the devotees carrying their offerings and doing penance in honor of Lord Murugan. Most people simply carried jugs of milk on their heads, although many upped the ante by inserting a spear through their cheeks. Even this wasn't enough for many guys, so they carried huge kavadi balanced on their shoulders and chained to them with hooks in their backs and chests. Others carried their offerings of fruit all over their bodies attached with hooks through their skin. One guy took this to the next level and had jugs of milk hooked all over his chest and back. Most disturbing were the guys pulling people from the hooks in their backs. The guy behind would hold back so the guys' skin would stretch out. The most impressive guy I saw was pulling a cart loaded with children in this manner, and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. I don't know how they attached the hooks and spears, but there was no blood, and the people didn't seem to be in pain. It's said that the devotees enter a trance, and some people appeared to be in one, but others didn't, and carried out conversations with their entourages. Indeed it seemed the more gruesome the penance, the more followers. Guys were surrounded with parades of drummers, chanters, and even horn-blowers. This tended to make photography difficult, since it was difficult to get clear shots. I still took a ton of photos, which you can look at by clicking on the picture below. I even took a couple movies. I'm glad I had the chance to see this festival, definetly a highlight so far.

So what's it all about? Here's an article.

Hindus celebrate Thaipusam on the tenth month of their calendar. It coincides with the full moon at the end of January and beginning of February 'Thai' is the Hindu month which falls between January 15 to February 15 and 'Pusam' refers to a star which is at its brightest during the period of this festival. Celebrated in all parts of the world where there is a concentration of South Indians, the manifestation of the festival is best witnessed at Batu Caves and Penang.

Thaipusam celebrates the day Goddess Parvati bestowed upon her son the “vel” or lance to vanquish the evil demon, Soorapadam. This lance denotes spiritual insight, ability to differentiate right from wrong, righteousness and steadfastness. However, foe many Hindus, Thaipusam has come to mean the birthday of Lord Subramaniam, also known as lord Muruga, the younger son of Lord Shiva.

Leading up to the event, Hindus prepare themselves by fasting, praying and observing austerities.

In K. Lumpur, it culminates in a three-day festival which begins from Sri Mahamariaman Temple at Jalan Tun H.S. Lee in Chinatown and ends at Batu Caves. On the eve of the celebration, Lord Muruga’s image is decorated with diamonds, rubies and other jewels.

The Idols together with those of his two consorts Valli and Deivayani represent the spiritual and worldly energies (shakti), is placed on a bed of flowers with burning incense on the sides. In the wee hours of the morning, the five-tonne chariot is pulled by two bulls and hundred of devotees on its 15 km journey from Chinatown to Batu Caves. The procession weaves through major streets of the city and takes about 8 hours to reach its destination. A prayer ceremony is held at the foot of the caves and the flag of Lord Muruga is hoisted to announce the commencement of the celebrations.

Devotees carry offerings and climb the 272 steps to the main cave to seek forgiveness for past deeds or to thank Lord Muruga for wishes granted. Some devotees carry the Kavadi, a wooden arch with two pots of or honey at its end, decorated with peacock feathers. However bearing a simple pot of milk up to the shrine is all that is required.

These forms of offerings are overshadowed by more elaborate ones with huge metal frames and bedecked with decorations in the belief that the larger the kavadi the more resolute is one’s devotion. Skewers protruding through cheeks and metal hooks and spikes are also to be seen. This is a quaint evolution of the celebrations not found in Hindu Scriptures.

Hinduism advocates that the body should not be harmed as the body is akin to a temple that the soul resides in. Some devotees however, choose to believe that the only way to salvation is to endure a penance of pain and hardship. However, they are able to tolerate this ordeal of pain as they are in a trance-like state. There is no blood and they prepare themselves for this by undergoing specific rites during the preceding month. Austerities are followed and the body and soul disciplined to refrain from all forms of worldly activities. The devotees overcomes any form of pain as their minds are attuned to only one thing – spirituality and liberation from worldly desires.

Once the devotees bath in the nearby river, they go into trance and have the kavadi placed on their shoulders or their body pierced, they walk from the river to the temple grounds and climb up the steps to the caves main temple high above.

On reaching, they lay down their kavadi and the milk or honey offering is poured on the statue of the deity as an act of thanksgiving, Those with hooks and skewers have a priest chant over them as the metal implements are removed and the wounds treated with hot ash. There is not a drop of blood, no pain and even more amazing, no scarring at all.

The festivities centered at Batu Caves is an exciting and thrilling spectacle but it also gets very crowded and claustrophobic and you need a lot of patience.

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Shopping
January 20, 2003
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

If you're in to shopping in air-conditioned malls, KL is the place to be, since it has a plethora of modern six-level shopping centers, and the prices are cheaper than back home. I hate shopping, but I need some stuff, and KL is as good a place as any to buy it. First off I needed a ton of toiletries. Secondly I needed guide books, and after scouring KL's meager supply of book stores I picked up Lonely Planet's Trekking in Nepal and the Rough Guide to Cambodia. After browsing through it I liked the Rough guide, and may switch to those from Lonely Planets, which are dry and boring and have terrible maps. Also not everyone uses Rough Guides, so I may see some different places. I also finally picked up a SE Asia phrasebook, and a Traveler's History of SE Asia. So I have a ton of books now. Finishing the Lord of the Rings is now critical, since that will free up lots of space.

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More Shopping
January 21, 2003
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

My pants situation is critical, and I wanted to mend it (pun intended) before moving on. Basically my good pair, the nylon ones I wear all the time, have reached the end of their useful lives. The other pair, a cotton/nylon blend, is too big, gets dirty too easily, and dries too slowly. I want two pairs of nylon pants, since they dry fast and stay cleaner. This took two days of pounding the pavement, but I finally found the perfect pants: seemingly nylon (there's no label), with lots of pockets, and even zip off legs, with the zippers below the knees to make nice long shorts, unlike the ultra short hot pants my old pair converted in to. And they only cost $15. That said, the only people who wear shorts here are children, some women, and tourists. I realize I'll always look like a tourist, but I choose to blend in as much as possible, so I'll keep the legs on. Shorts don't really keep you cooler anyway; you're gonna be hot no matter what.

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Still in KL
January 22, 2003
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

If you've been reading my journals, you probably wish I'd get off my lazy ass and go somewhere new. I want to go too, so I went to KL Sentral Station and bought a ticket to Hat Yai for $13, second class sleeper. So tomorrow I'll get back on the train at the same place I got off more than a month ago, in a sense resuming my journey after a brief break. I never committed to constrain myself to trains, or even land travel, as some people do, but the idea of traveling from Singapore to London by train greatly appeals to me, since it's possible. (I later looked at some maps and I don't think it is. But you can go from Saigon to London.) So that's my big goal. My immediate goal is to take the train to Bangkok. I decided I should go to Cambodia from there to see Angkor Wat before flying to Yangoon and on to Nepal. So stay tuned, tomorrow the journey continues...

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Riding the Rails
January 23, 2003
The Express to Thailand

Except for the fact that it was packed with Americans, the train ride was nice. I boarded at 8 pm and found my way to my small but clean berth and settled down with a copy of The Economist to catch up on what's going on in the world. Best of all I was able to get a full night's sleep since we didn't cross the border until 9 am. Too bad the train doesn't go all the way to Bangkok...

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Stuck in Hat Yai
January 24, 2003
Hat Yai, Thailand

Third time's a charm, huh? My first time here I spent a day en route to Koh Tao. My second time here I got off one bus, bought a pineapple, and got on another bus. This time I forgot to set my watch back an hour when I crossed the border. A train pulled up and I asked one of the cops if it was my train. He said "no, next train." So I sat down and the train left. Then I asked the information guy when my train would come, and he said 3:50. But according to my watch it was 4:15, so I asked if I missed it. Unfortunately when Thais don't understand you they will politely agree with you. So thinking I missed my train I crossed the street into town, where a Thai guy became my new best friend. Of course he had a guest house to show me, a travel agent to take me to, and young ladies to provide. Truly a one-stop shop. These are all things I am capable of finding myself, so he followed me to Cathay Travel/Guest House, who I had bought my ticket to Koh Tao from. He finally left when I bought a ticket for the "V.I.P. Bus" to Bangkok (the "Super V.I.P." was $8 more) for $15, then got a room, which was very grim, but only $5. Then I noticed the clock labeled "Thailand Time" that said it was 3:50. Doh! The ticket girl said I could get a refund, so I went back to the station, and my train was there, taunting me. It looked like a step down from Malaysian trains, with no AC and wooden benches, but it was packed with Thais, so probably would have been a good cultural experience. Since my stuff was back at the guesthouse, I got a refund, only 50% of what I paid ($2). I was going to stop in Chaiya where there are some ruins, but that's not an option with the bus. Oh well, seen one ruin, seen them all, I suppose. Of course I haven't seen a single ruin yet.

After looking at a map, a good thing to do from time to time when traveling, it seems to make more sense to go to Laos, rather than Cambodia first. South East Asia is shaped funny, and it's hard to plan a land route that doesn't backtrack. But it looks like I can take a train to North East Thailand, and cross over to Vientiane, then go north to Luang Prabang, then head south and cross back in to Thailand and take another train back to Bangkok. Then I can do the Nepal/Tibet thing, then fly back to Bangkok and take a train to Cambodia, see Angkor Wat and more, hopefully, then cross in to Vietnam and take the train to China. If you haven't noticed, I like trains. Plus, if I take trains when I can, I think I'll avoid the bulk of the tourist hordes en route, since they all take the tourist busses.

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The V.I.P. Bus
January 25, 2003
Bangkok, Thailand

I almost missed my bus too. It was so noisy last night due to the gangs of muflerless motorbikes racing all night I had to put my earplugs in. I usually wake up in the middle of the night and take them out, but not this time, so I was awakened by the ticket girl knocking on my door at 8:30, when I was supposed to get on the taxi to the bus station. I managed to get dressed and packed in five minutes. The pile of stuff I abandoned (Lord of the Rings book, hiking shorts, blank CD-R's, CD case) was eagerly accepted by the guesthouse lady. I seem to be abandoning at least one item at each place I stay.

I caught the taxi and made it to the bus station with time to spare. The bus was nice, with big, fluffy, reclining seats, and a stewardess. I was pretty excited about the stewardess because (1) I've never been on a bus with a stewardess and (2) I figured if there was a stewardess, she would be busy the whole time distributing snacks and meals. Unfortunately all she did was take our tickets, and pass out a little pasty, a tiny water bottle, and a wet-nap. So she worked for about 5 minutes of the 12 hour trip.

I figured all the passengers would be farangs, but it turned out except for me and a Korean girl they were all Thai. Unfortunately they were all equipped with cell phones that played annoying tunes very loudly every time they rang, which was continuously.

We stopped at 3 pm at a roadside restaurant, and in true Thai fashion there was no announcement on what was going on, not even in Thai. I wandered in to the restaurant and a waitress motioned for me to sit at a table with the other passengers and said "free." So I had a free meal of rice, a big spicy fish you pick off the bone, and vegetables. Nobody said a thing until everyone left except for one Thai woman, who then asked me how long I had been in Thailand and where I was going. She was amazed when I explained I was traveling alone, and was excited when I said I was on Kho Pha Ngan. I asked her if she liked living in Bangkok, and she said it was "OK sometimes."

We got in to Bangkok at 9, and the Korean woman and I split a taxi to Khao San Road, the infamous tourist ghetto (see the film "The Beach," or better yet, read the book), which I took one look at and immediately hated. It's a zoo packed with farang hippies, cowboys, and freaks, with loud music, crappy restaurants, and Thais dressed up selling stupid shit like disco globes. It's like Haad Rin on a massive scale, but without the redeeming quality of a beach nearby. The Korean girl went to a "Korean guest house," which seems a bit silly to me. The last place I would want to stay is an "American guest house," so I followed directions from the Cyber-Nomad to a hotel, where I got a grotty air con room for $8. Tomorrow I'll check out the guest house he stayed at, but for now I want a quiet room to myself.

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Crazy Town
January 26, 2003
Bangkok, Thailand

Good food

After a day, the initial confusion is starting to pass, and i'm feeling a bit more comfortable here. That's the good/bad thing about travel: you can never get too comfortable, because once you learn your way around a place, it's time to move on and you're thrown back in to confusion. And a confusing place Bangkok is. It's a human zoo with people everywhere, sidewalks packed with vendors selling everything, and streets packed with busses, taxis, and tuk tuks. It's a bit more in your face than KL.

First I went to the Cyber-Nomad's guesthouse, located on a quiet, secluded side street, but was "full for a long time" according to the guy who answered the door. So I was forced to find a place on my own. I picked a place on the next street down from Khao San Road, but it's still in tourist central. For $5 I get a tiny room with a mattress on the floor and a bathroom down the hall. It's clean, though, which is the most important thing.

My Thai friend from the bus said I should go to the weekend market, so I took a local bus there, and I'm glad I did, since there was some good stuff. Lots of blue jeans, cowboy hats, and US Army surplus, but also some porcelains, pewter, and textiles, so I picked up some birthday presents for my mom.

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Tuk Tuks, Trains, Busses, and Boats
January 27, 2003
Bangkok, Thailand

tuk tuk

Today wasn't a particularly exciting day, my chief goal being going to the post office to pick up a package. First I had to eat, so I walked around the Khao San Road area, which only has same-same-but-different farang restaurants. I get more annoyed with Khao San Road every day, so I went to the next street over and found a sidewalk vendor that some Thais were eating at, and using the pointing method ordered a super-spicy curry chicken and a Thai iced tea for 50 cents. Not only is this super-cheap (a meal at a restaurant is about $2.50, it's a good way to get away from the hordes of tourists.

Then it was time to begin my epic journey across town. Walking out of the tourist district is always annoying, since the exit is guarded by aggressive taxi and tuk tuk drivers "Where you going?" I started telling them I'm going to the moon, but they usually don't get the joke. But one guy did offer to take me to the moon for 10 Baht. This time I wanted to take a tuk tuk, just to do it once. What's a tuk tuk you ask? It's a little 3 wheeled rickshaw, powered by a noisy two-stroke engine (hence the name). They are open, so you are exposed to the heat, noise, and fumes of the streets. Not a particularly pleasant way to travel. Plus you have to fight with the driver to get him to take you without stopping at his friend's shop. I took the tuk tuk to a pier to take a river taxi, another less-than-stellar experience. The boats were packed with middle-aged package tourists, and the views from Bangkok's dirty river aren't exactly picturesque. In fact Bangkok in general isn't too picturesque. Nobody will accuse it of being a beautiful city.

After running the tuk tuk gauntlet surrounding the pier, the final leg of my journey was on foot. Nobody knows the term "post office," and it's not in my phrasebook, so I was on my own. Mission accomplished though. Afterwards I went to Starbucks to read my Thailand Lonely Planet in the package (problem, I now have six guidebooks). A Grande frapacino costs 80 Baht. This my only be $2, but consider that in relative terms. My room is 200 Baht. My lunch was 20 Baht. My dinner at a sit-down restaurant was 80 Baht. Starbucks is damn expensive.

My motivation to see Bangkok is low. Maybe I'll leave it until I get back. I'm eager to begin my train trip north since I read in the guidebook that part of the country is visited by only 2% of tourists.

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Sleepless in Bangkok
January 28, 2003
Bangkok, Thailand

Hippy heaven

It's 2:30 am and I can't sleep, so in an attempt to put myself (and not you) asleep, I'll write in my journal. Even though I haven't been doing anything and have been going to sleep at 12, I was really tired and slept until 11. When I finally dragged myself out of "bed" (my mattress on the floor), I didn't want to do anything. I had to eat, though, so I wandered out for some spicy street food for 75 cents. I've noticed Thais eat with fork in left hand and spoon in right, and push food onto their spoon with the fork. I checked my guidebook and sure enough, it says Thais find putting a fork in one's mouth to be uncouth, like we would think of putting a knife in your mouth. So when in Rome... Another little difference: when gesturing to get someone's attention Thais wave with their palms down and wiggle their fingers..

Afterwards I wanted to go to the library to read, but none of the three busses my bus map seemed to indicate go that way showed up. So much for my mastery of the Bangkok bus system. So I took a #15 bus to what's become my hang-out, the Siam Square shopping district, where I could read at Starbucks. I have to plan a general route to Laos, then through it. After deciding on the Northeast line to Vientiane, I just read that I can cross from Laos to Cambodia. This is quite ambitious, but I like the idea. But then it would make more sense to enter Laos in the north at the Golden Triangle, which entails taking the Northern line to Chaing Mai. The cool thing about this is after enter Laos, I will cruise down the Mekong. Then I can make my way to Vientiane, and either get a Cambodia visa there, or bail and go back to Thailand. The thing is if I go to both Laos and Cambodia I would have to postpone my trip to Myanmar to catch trekking season in Nepal. The other thing is the problem of going by land from here to Saigon, if I've already gone through Cambodia. I guess if I've already made it by land to Phenom Phen, I can just fly there later and cross over into Vietnam. Depends on how anal I want to be on the whole overland thing.

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Vagabonding
January 29, 2003
Bangkok, Thailand

Chillin with the Vagabond

Today I met the Vagabond, Mike, before he flies to India tomorrow. It was strange, since we both knew each other from our respective websites. We exchanged travel stories, but I mostly picked his brain, since I'm following in his footsteps. He really liked Myanmar, and suggested I go there next, but I remained firm on my decision to go to Laos. Later he showed me the tools of his trade: a tiny laptop with video editing software, and a huge DV camera and tripod I can't believe he carries all that stuff around.

When I got back to my room I considered my plans in a different light. I have to assume that after a month in Nepal and a month in Tibet I won't want to come back. Wether or not this turns out to be true, I should go where I really want to go first, which is and always has been Myanmar, reinforced by Mike's rave reviews. As I considered my options it was another sleepless night.

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Myanmar On My Mind
January 30, 2003
Bangkok, Thailand

I met Mike before he left and picked his brain about travel in Myanmar: carry lots of US dollars, yes, you can buy plane tickets. Then I headed to the Union of Myanmar embassy to get my visa. What a great way to spend an afternoon: wait in one line, oops, wrong line, get forms, fill them out, why do they want to know my father's name?, wait in the long line that's not moving, pay $20, then out the door. It should be ready tomorrow. Then I went to a nearby travel agent to check my options. It looks like it will be cheaper to buy a ticket to Kathmandu in Rangoon, rather than here. I postponed the purchase until tomorrow. I really hate to leave South East Asia already, since it was supposed to be the core of my trip. But trekking season in Nepal is March and April. Hopefully I'll be back.

That night I went to see a movie. Since I've already seen the Hollywood movies playing, I decided to check out a Thai comedy called "Oh Lucky Man." It defies description, but the basic plot was the God tells a guy to stop womanizing and He'll punish him if he sleeps with a woman he doesn't love. Of course he doesn't stop and all sorts of wacky adventures ensue, involving the Bangkok mafia, a psychopathic knife-weilding murderer, flatulence, and the mysterious disappearance of his "thing." Of course he ended up falling in love with the "unattractive" woman, who sported a huge mole with two feet of hair growing out of it on her face. You've seen it before, only this time it didn't really make sense. The moral of the story seemed to be you can only marry someone if they've had plastic surgery. It was pretty bad. Perhaps it lost something in the translation.

The movie reminded me of something I've been meaning to comment on: the King. Everybody loves him. Before movies they play the national anthem and show pictures of him and everybody stands up. Every shop and business not only has a little Buddhist shine, but a picture of the King and Queen, and probably a calendar too. Every town has a huge picture of him in a gold frame in the middle of the street, and there are billboards everywhere. Here in Bangkok on a main road there are about 12 huge pictures in the median. I think it's great. If you're going to have a monarch, you might as well venerate him, or else what's the point? Entertainment? However the Thais have taken this to a slightly creepy level. Everyone also displays a picture of Rama V, who reigned more than 100 years ago (he's the guy who ceded lots of territory to the British to keep the kingdom free of colonization). People say prayers to and leave offerings to him for good luck. As Mike pointed out, this would be like us praying to Abe Lincoln: "Abe Lincoln, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." Weird.

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Hello, Thank You, Goodbye
January 31, 2003
Bangkok, Thailand

I went back to the "Union of Myanmar" embassy, waited in line, and picked up my passport with my visa attached, no problemo. Then I bought a one-way ticket to Yangon or Rangoon or whatever they're calling the capital these days for $90. I couldn't get a flight until Tuesday, so I still have some time to kill. Since I like to read about where I am, I picked up George Orwell's "Burmese Days" and "Welcome to Burma and Enjoy the Totalitarian Experience."

It's a shame I'm leaving Thailand since I haven't seen much of it, and the people are so friendly. Plus, after more than a month here, I finally figured out how to say "hello." That may sound silly, but the jaded island Thais never said "hello" in Thai. They don't say it on Khao San Road either (except for the sawa-di-kaaaaa, fresh or-ange juuuuuice girls). Around town they do. The problem is that when I try to look up Thai worlds in my phrase book it is useless, since words are spelled differently form how Thais say them. I guess that's the problem with languages that have their own alphabet. Compounding the problem is the fact that it's a tonal language, so a word can have up to five meanings, depending on which tone you use. Yeah, I don't understand either. Burmese is a tonal language too. Doh!

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