travelling with laughter

Prison and the lasting effect.

rebmason80 — Thu, 5 Jun 2008 13:06:00 GMT

Butterflies are fluttering all around my stomach leaving trails of nervousness in its wake. This morning i am on my way to visit the notorious Bangkwang Prision, an hours boat ride away in Nonthaburi. Its not on every tourists 'tick list' attraction but for me its extremely important. For the past couple of years i have been penpals with four inmates, sending letters and packages containing books, chocolates and anything else that they may have requested. All in the hope that i can make a difference to their day.

I should first explain how this all started. Several years ago i was sat on the sofa, cuppa in my hand, flicking through the channels on the television when i came across a documentary on Thailand's Bangkwang prision. In it a young Britsh nineteen year old called Micheal was being interviewed, he had been caught in possession of drugs and sentenced to ninety-nine years imprisonment. I watched in horror as they talked to this 'child' and i saw with my own eyes where he was going to be living in for the rest of his life. It touched me and for reasons i cant explain i decided that i was going to do something, there isn't an awful lot that i can do but i thought perhaps if i was to write then i might bring a smile to his face, bring on some laughter lines or just give him a brief break from his own thoughts. So i wrote a letter, sent it to the television company in the hope that they would pass it on and as fate would determine they did. Soon letters were being shuttled from Thailand to England. I then looked on the prision website, lots of guys request penpals and so i sent another letter, through the people i write to a couple of other requests came to me. All the men that i write to are in for drug offences; some had the intent to sell, some were in possession of illegal drugs. Thailands sentencing on drug offences are notoriously high, you get more time for drugs than murder, if you get caught you risk facing up to ninety nine years or even the death penalty. Their only chance of release is by way of a Kings pardon which are few and far between. Two of the four guys i write to are of British nationality, then there is one aussie and one canadian. Recently upon calling home my mum read me letter from Julian (UK) which brought me great joy, it was fanatastic news infact. He is one of the lucky ones, he has recieved a pardon and should return home in the next year or so, i am delighted, i just cant begin to imagine how he feels!

Now its eight o'clock on a smoggy morning in Bangkok, i am sitting on a riverboat slowly cruising down the brown waters, watching the world go by. It will take me an hour to get there, fifteen stops in total, i am not sure whether i want the time to speed up or slow down? I cant concentrate, i am seeing things but not seeing them, words in my book are blurring into one. You are probably wondering why i am putting myself through this, the answer is simple; because its the least i can do. I have seen lots of amazing things in the last year, met many wonderful friends, partied hard, relaxed, now its my chance to give something back. As a traveller you become quite selfish, its part of it, you have to otherwise you become a sheep following someone elses dream. Now though it is time to be selfless.

I arrived at Nonthaburi Pier, walked along the main road to where the prison was half hidden by a row of trees, yet the concrete watch towers looming high in the sky were a reminder of what lay hidden behind. I had no idea what i was doing at all, asking around it soon became crystal clear that i was an idiot! I had forgotten my passport and there was no way i was going to be allowed to visit without it. What a fool! Now i was completely stressed, i hurridely got a taxi all the way back to my hostel, ran in and out like a looney and rushed back again, biting my nails down to the quik in the process. Returning i once again entered the registration area where the guard smiled at me and with a touch of sarcasm asked if i had my passport.....i filled out the forms which were stamped, a slip given to me, then told that i could now go in.

By this point i was trying to calm myself by speaking out loud....i must have looked like i should have been in a straight jacket. Physically i felt like vomiting and my hands just would not stop shaking. The entrance to the visitors area is unassuming, picnic tables, the odd guard standing around, i asked which way to go and was pointed around the corner. On one side of me was a huge brick wall, barbed wire on the top, on the other side buildings with blacked out windows also imposed on the space. At a desk my bag was taken away, a female officer patted me down and i walked through a metal detecter, all done without a hint of a smile, the air of authority was claustrophobic. I came to a floor to ceiling yellow metal door, showed my slip, recieved half a smile and was allowed through.

I walked into a courtyard with buildings running parrellel on either side, a group of people were milling about infront of one guy on the right, one of these ladies seeing my puzzled nervous expression pointed out the way. The buildings were long corridors containing booths, each with a chair, telephone and speaker. Infront you looked through glass and bars, on the other side of the gully the prisioners sat behind another set of bars. I had no idea what i was doing, where to go, how to find Adrian, i walked along hoping that maybe by some miracle i would be recognised. I was surprised to see so many other foreigners there amongst the thai families. I needed some direction, i was wasting precious time. I wandered down through the corridor past all the people hoping to find a guard who would be able to help me. At last i came to a desk, handed over my ticket and was told to wait. Five minutes later a guard returned and informed me that i was to go to number fifty six. My adrenaline was pumping, the moment had finally come after years of writing and an extremely stressful morning.

As i reached number fifty six i saw another foreigner sitting there talking on the telephone, shit....what were the chances of that happenning? I gently tapped him on the shoulder, apologised and asked him if he could tell Adrian that i was Reb. With that Adrian smiled and energetically waved back at me. I finally got my first glimpse of my penpal, sitting on the otherside wearing a blue shirt, white t-shirt underneath and standard black shorts. It was odd, i cant deny that, i couldnt help but stare at the man i have shared thoughts, feelings and even secrets with. I waited patiently for the other man to finish, whilst i waited another foreigner spoke to me but to be honest i dont remember a word he said to me. Then it was my turn.

I sat down and picked up the phone, my moment had finally come. Now i cant remember the exact conversation that followed but i will try to recount some of it. What i can say is that Adrian was thrilled with my surprise visit and throughout our hours conversation told me numerous times that he was over the moon to finally meet me, so glad that i had come and that i looked nothing like the photos i had sent! It was really quite amazing, i sat looking through the glass at this grinning man, short grey/blonde hair and glasses telling me stories, recalling prison life and laughing at my silly tales. I couldn't take my eyes off him, it seemed so un-real yet so time stopping REAL. The next news i was quite set back by, he told me that late last year he had been told that he had cancer after SEVEN months of trying to get to see a real doctor who actually gave a shit, that he had an operation, chemo in January and was due for another operation in July.

"Reb dont look so serious" he told me, "I am a fighter".

I couldnt help but smile, thats what i was there for...not to sit glum faced on the other side of the gully. He also told me that they wanted to do a major operation that would leave him impotent and using a catheter for the rest of his life, knowing that he could return to Holland in the next couple of years in his words he said;

"I am not doing that, i will wait until i can see a proper doctor, i have been in here eight years, no beer, no pussy, there is no way they are doing that to me!!!!"

I couldnt help but laugh. His passion for life, positiveness was inspiring, it has taught me a lesson or two! At one point the phones cut out for about five minutes, it was so frustrating but all i could do was wait, smile and gesticulate at the bloody inconvience of it all! This is a regular occurence, the thai prisoners only get fourty five minutes so when there time is up everyone gets to know about i! Our conversation was easy going and flowing, interrupted by moments of 'I cant believe i have met you at last!'......from both of us.

Adrian's life is something that is hard to imagine, he lives in a cell with eight others about the size of a single garage in which they have to leave about two metres for the toilet. They sleep on the floor side by side using rolled up blankets as mattresses. The brown river water is pumped in for them to wash,leaving them not feeling all that refreshed. In there if you have money it can make your time in there easier and more comfortable, it can buy you food, space, literally anything that you can think of. Living in there is basic as you can imagine, nothing is provided at all, they rely on their families for money and basics.

Our time was almost up when the speaker next to me buzzed, the hour had flown by, already it was time for goodbyes. He wanted to introduce me to his friend Gale and so before leaving i met her. It was so sad to say goodbye, we frantically waved and blew kisses then Adrian walked away. Thankfully i had Gale to talk to otherwise i think i may have cried, not out of sadness, okay well maybe a little but out of the effect the whole experience had given me. On leaving the prison i asked Gale (an angel in her own right, she has been visiting for several years now) why there were so many people around one guy as i had entered, and still there now.....What she told me made me angry and momentarily stunned. He was a monk, i am not sure what his status is on that now.....he was imprisoned for pedophilia yet YET still had a following of devotees, woman and men praying with him and giving him obscene donations of money. What is going on? Its crazy and insane to me!

Then i asked Gale if i could take books in for the guys, i wanted to go back in the afternoon for a second visit.
"
Come on i will show you"; before leading me in to the man whose job it was she calmly informed that....."he is the last executioner, he was the one that put the gun to the heads of the men on death row".

OH MY GOD! I was definitely going to be on my best behaviour in that yes sir, no sir manner! Entering the room you would never know that this fifty something man was a paid killer. He smiled at us, though knowing what i did it seemed quite evil. He checked my books and stamped them, job done.....lets go! Gale then said to me but directed for his benefit "He is a very nice man".....his response was to say, "Oh no very bad man", as he pointed his thumb down to HELL! No sh*t sherlock, i was with him on that one! Though i didnt think that it would be appropiate for me to agree!
I went and had a well needed drink with Gale (just coke, though i was dying for a beer), we chatted about how we both came to be visiting inmates and all that goes with it, the emotions, the stories, it was fascinating. She is an amazing woman with a heart that needs commending. Gale had erands to run, i had a friend to meet and so we said goodbye, i know we will stay in touch, we have very important friends in common.

I went to meet Tara, my aussie friend, she wanted to accompany me to a prison visit, brilliant for me and my penpals as it meant that no-one would miss out. Before heading back to the prison for the afternoon visit i loaded a bag of gifts for the three guys, three of everything, books, sweets, crisps, biscuits, cigarettes, lychees, oranges and bananas. At registration i was to be crushed, they wouldn't let me in for the afternoon visit, you are only allowed to see one person a day. I was really upset. Thankfully i had Tara to pass on my love and the very important bag of goodies. I described to Tara what to expect and then just waited for her. On her return we embraced and she filled me in with everything.

Tara like me came out feeling elated and somewhat gob smacked by the experience. Its life changing i am telling you, the best thing that i have ever done, that feeling that you have one hundred percent made someones day is not only so hard to imagine, so powerful but the simplest gift that you can give freely. I am immensely proud of myself and Tara, it was an emotional journey and well its certainly not an everyday occurrence. It was a simple act of compassion. The thing is, its not going to end there, the friendships i have made are unconditional, i know that they have done wrong, made a mistake but like me they are human. Everybody needs love and friendship whether it is from your own family or a complete stranger. Giving is the easiest thing, you just have to open yourself up enough.

So if there is anything i can pass on its......if you are in Thailand or heading here then please google 'Bangkwang Prison', find someone, make that small amount of effort and visit. Not only will it put your own life into perspective, you will also make the world of difference to someone else. Plus you can never have enough friends!!!!!!

I was almost road kill!

rebmason80 — Sun, 25 May 2008 09:58:00 GMT

Learning my lesson from mopeds i decided i would stay a pedestrian, little did i know that that could be just as lethal. I found this out as one ploughed into the back of me! It seems that you do actually have to have eyes in the back of your head!

Stevie and i left for Koh Tao, on the east coast of thailand, sadly saying farewell to Caroline, not forever though as we declared that sometime in the future we will meet up again for a banquet of cheese and wine in a restaurent in Paris. Arriving by Ferry stevie and i instantly loved the place, a winding dirt path lead you through wooden bungalows and restaurants set inches off the beach. The beach was quiet, the sea calm and warm, proper cheese (as opposed to the plastic cheese that i have been dining on) Mozzarella and pesto were in abundance and if you didnt feel like dancing the night away you could seek solace in a movie or two.

It wasn't just Stevie and i for very long as Stevie was reunited with her travelling buddy Rollie, a blonde haired German with a penchant for silly games. Through him we met Tara and aussie beaut who would make you smile in an instant and want to steal all her jewellry and Andy a fellow Brit bursting with enthusiasm and grins. The group soon expanded with friends and it was unusual to ever find yourself alone.

Setting the scene, i am sure you are wondering how i managed to get run over.....was i bladdered?...no, was i walking in the middle of the road?....no! After having a few beers and topping it off with a midnight swim Andy offered to walk me home. The path back to my bungalow was dark and a little bit nerve wracking by yourself so i was glad of the company. The path is flat for most of the way until the last part where there is a small but steep sandy hill, mopeds need to speed up this or there is no chance that you can reach the top. Reaching the hill i was walking on the far left, Andy on the right. Now it all happened in a split second, one minute i was standing and the next second i was looking at the stars, i heard Andy say something to me (though i didn't have chance to catch it all)...i later learned that he was telling me to come to his side of the road, then i heard a girl shout and 'Bang'! I found myself lying on the floor after smacking the back of my head on the concrete, imagine the sound that a coconut makes as it falls from the trees...well that's the sound that my head made! They had literally managed to ride into the back of me! Now what the hell are the chances of that happening? I got up stunned, with a sore head but no other injuries thankfully (the bruises came up later).

The scene that i stood up to was a guy (the driver) lying on the floor passed out, his girlfriend vigorously slapping him and Andy in absolute fury clapping and shouting, "well done you fucking idiot" !!! These words were the last thing he heard before passing out...It was a nightmare. Andy turned off the bikes engine and righted the bike, the guy came round, after a thorough patting down it seemed that everyone was okay. Standing at the side of the road, the reason became clear how this had happened. Nick (driver) and Michelle 'the perpetraors' were totally drunk. Standing there Michelle was swaying from spot to spot, unaware that a trickle of blood form a graze was running down her leg...i had to tell her several times before she understood what i was going on about. How they had managed to even sit on the bike let alone ride it i have no idea!

Andy then rode the bike up the hill for them, i would have hated to have another re-run! I helped Nick up and we all went up the top and sat down, numbers exchanged, just in case it turned out that i had concussion. They apologised profusely, which i was grateful for but it started to grate on me, i was still shaking and just wanted to get back and go to bed. It was the most random chance accident, i still can't believe it! The last thing i expected was to be actually ridden into, it could have been alot worse, i could have actually been road kill. However i am fine, no repercussions, so i am putting it down as an experience, an unusual story to tell!

Later in conversations i would be introduced as....."you know that girl i was telling you about that got hit by a bike..., well this is her".....

I would complete it with, "hi, i am Reb"!!!!!

Anyone for a bucket?

rebmason80 — Tue, 20 May 2008 12:15:00 GMT

Charlies Angels were reunited, minus Charlie himself on Lang Kwai a duty free island on the west coast of Malaysia. Apart from the obvious cheap fags and booze unfortunately all it offered us was rain, a huge hangover, a lost debit card, cash and an excuse to leave and hit the beaches of Thailand. So we did, almost losing one on route thanks to a forgotten passport!

So we were on our way to Thailand, leaving early we arrived at the Ferry well before the scheduled nine o'clock departure. At the ticket counter we waited patiently for our turn, standing there we heard the familiar term 'passport' not so unusual as a) we carry it on us at all times and b) it is always needed when you cross a border, in fact whilst travelling! But standing there Stevie froze and like a stuck record started repeating the word Passport again and again whilst frantically unzipping her bag, literally airing her dirty laundry in public! It soon became evident that the REALLY important and vital stamp collecting book was still dozing nicely wrapped in her bed sheet in the dorm room we had just left! Whoops! In a mad dash Stevie taxied it back, retrieved her passport and we were set,except we missed the ferry....! Thankfully there was one four hours later so we sat in a french cafe making full use of the coffee re-fills! By the time we boarded we were buzzing like bees round a flower! I dutifully (pardon the pun) stocked up on ciggies, for four hundred it cost me five quid...it just had to be done and to top it off they were called 'Bingo"...classy hey! Who was i to resist?!?

A couple of hours on the sea and we arrived at the border of Thailand, thank goodness we did all have passports as a bold sign informed us that if we didn't we would receive a hefty fine and get thrown in prison too! We were rushed into a taxi, thrown on a bus, another six hours later we arrived a nice four km from Krabbi our destination. We were bombarded with taxi drivers, looking for an easy buck or two from three possible naive tourists....we had other ideas though, taking matters into our own hands we decided to hitchhike. After five minutes of waving at the side of the road a pickup truck loaded with a thai family pulled over, throwing our bags in the back, we climbed up and used them as seats. As the truck pulled away the heavens opened...great! Soon we were like drowned rats, ducking our heads down to try and save our eyes form the pelting rain. It was quite hilarious, we laughed all the way and the situation we had created for ourselves! Yes we had saved money....and got a shower in the process! Finally finding a hotel we certainly left an impression as we checked in, in the form of a trail of water and three growing puddles!

In the morning we decided to head for the islands on the west coast as the ones on the east were suffering storms, the previous day the ferry had tried to get there and had to turn around, that didn't sound like much fun to us! So after a days travel we landed on Koh Phangan, well known for its 'full moon parties', they happen every month attracting thousands of tourists from all over the world for nights of craziness. To keep the price down we decided the three of us would share a double bed dorm....three in a bed, it was cosy, all our feet hanging off the end!

Now the main drinking culture here and all over Thailand are the dreaded buckets, a sand castle bucket loaded with whisky, redbull and coke, filled with straws its the perfect sharing drink and leaves you dancing like a looney and normally swimming in the sea fully clothed! At about three pounds each it explains why everyone drinks them.... We did have some great nights out, though none of us managed to come out unscathed....clothes were lost, a few stubbed toes and one minor burn injury. In the evenings fire shows are a regular occurrence, flaming sticks and balls are flung round heads by the professionals but as always they think it is a great idea to have a bit of audience participation...seriously does this sound safe to you? Just picture it, a load of half/completely/almost comatosed/staggering drunks and then they through fire in for some added hilarity......a huge rope to skip with on fire and then there is the limbo.....all well and good til the wind blows and adds about ten inches to the flames!

The music is crazy, it blasts from speakers, though they have seen better days.....if you select the right spot you can try to identify one of the three or more songs competing for top spot in your ear drums! Most of it was awful, trance and all that weird stuff, maybe its my age but i just longed for abit of the beatles....! It was just about bearable! In the evenings when we hadn't gone out going to sleep was a mission, lying side by side we would vibrate to the bass pumping from down the beach....every morning i was surprised not to find myself on the floor, i was expecting to be literally shaken out of bed! The also great thing about our not so soundproof hut was the actual lock, the key would open the door once out of every twenty attempts...great, really great when you have had one or two too many buckets and need to get to bed desperately..!!

What i always fail to remember whilst drinking are the consequences of these buckets...the 'i think i am dying' feeling as i wake up, when my mouth is like Ghandis' flip flop, a head like you have just had a round with Mike Tyson and basically the inability to do anything except try and rehydrate and sleep. Though the island does try to pamper to all of us zombies by providing bars that play back to back friends and family guy, allowing our brains to function on there lowest ability!

Feeling the need to escape the 'duff duff' music and overly tanned sun worshippers on Stevies birthday we decided to rent mopeds and explore the island.I had Caroline on the back of mine, it was a shaky start as we headed off but after five minutes Caroline had stopped screeching in my ear! The roads are so steep, they are like a real life rollarcoaster, some so steep that Caroline and i almost came to a stand still, we were leaning forward in the hope that it would help! We visited a trickle of water, named on the map as a waterfall.....then made our way to a glorious quiet clean beach where we chilled for an hour or so.

On our little escapade we had to take a few detours, as Caroline and i stopped for a kodak moment we heard Stevie calling, "guys do not come this way, this is really not a good idea......ahhh, no its not funny'. At that point we stopped posing and went to her rescue, she was stuck trying to keep the bike upright on the sandiest road that was also covered in ruts. It was clear that we could not go down and so after half pushing and revving the bike back up the hill we changed course. This was just the start of things to come, had i known they were going to get worse, i would have gone back right there and then. Heading for another waterfall we found ourselves slipping and sliding through mud, almost losing our flip flops in the process......safe, mmmm, don't think so.We had gone two minutes down the road when it dropped off into a steep muddy hill...i just knew that if we had have gotten down in one piece, getting up would be another story. Time to abandon that one......later reading about that waterfall it stated that you should only attempt it on bikes if you were an experienced rider and on a dirt road bike! We had neither of those going for us!

Ok so a beach seemed like a good idea......could we make it there? What i must say is that being on abike my two worst fears are sand and gravel, my fear is that i am going to slip and slide all over the place and then land on my butt.....so you can imagine my delight when we came across an extremely steep hill covered in gravel! Stevie went for it and a little hesitantly i followed, we did make it to the top after almost coming off (the bike took on a life of its own) but then came to our demise about ten minutes late going down another gravel hill. The ironuc thing i wasnt bombing it down, i was taking it easy, one minute we are upright , the next we are lying on the gravel to an audience of jeeps! Caroline and i were unscathed, a little stunned but okay.We wheeled the bike down hill as it was too steep to try and ride it back from where we were, like getting back on a horse after being thrown off, i got back on terrified i would come off it again and we headed back, enough was enough. Though to get back we still had one more gravel downhill to contend with....reaching it, i sat with my feet on the floor and walked down it inch by inch like a total loser! I was scared shitless of the bike going over again on the gravel, it was the equivalent of if you went and tried ice skating in stilettos, it was that slippery. What didn't help matters was another tourist...on his bike he smiled sympathetically at me as he went past, over revved his engine and then came flying off landing in a heap. It seems i wasn't being over cautious after all! Luckily he was okay but by now i was a sweating shaking wreck! The words 'game over' sprung to my mind!

The next day we returned the bikes, to have then inspected, mine did have some scratches, but then they also found some on Stevies bike even though she hadn't even come off! We ended up in a shouting match, tried the waterworks approach, all to no avail....We were caught in a catch twenty two situation, we were going to have to pay as they had Stevies passport.... They blatantly told us that if we didn't pay they would sell her passport and that it would be no good telling the police as they didn't care. So we paid for the repairs in the end, we had been completely conned. TOTAL DISASTER and one not to be repeated. It is all a scam, one that i think many tourists fall into. Budget blown it was time to leave the island. Koh Tao was our next destination, a chill out zone and so we boarded another ferry and escaped!

Who said it was the safest city in the world?

rebmason80 — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 07:49:00 GMT

Singapore, Singapore, Singapore. It has everything and more, the safest city in the world supposedly...though i must be quite unlucky to witness an attemped theft!!!!

I arrived in Singapore on a wave of emotions, in fact i cried my way through immigration....its a small wonder that i was allowed through at all! The short blonde haired puffy eyed girl standing in front of them looked nothing like the serious faced brunette staring from the pages of my passport. Luck was with me that day though and they did let me through, i was soon collecting my bag, grabbing a map and wondering where the hell i was actually going. Leaving India was easy in itself but leaving Ant was the hardest thing, after travelling and being together as a couple for seven months it was painful to say goodbye. Ant has been my best friend and boyfriend all wrapped into one, we have had the most amazing journey together but as the saying goes all good things come to an end and its better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all. So with a sad goodbye under my belt i threw myself into the city of Singapore searching for that ray of light.

Getting around is wonderfully easy, the other day i even watched Deal or no deal on the bus, i didn't want to get off! As it happened i got to my destination, a little park only to find i was too late...then the rain came down so i quickly crossed the road and jumped on a bus in time to see how much money she won! hilarious. I think that i spent most of that day i on some kind of public transport, i was travelling around but getting nowhere fast!

Singapore has an amazing diversity of cultures, i have revisited some of the countries i have spent time in, i have wandered around Chinatown with its red lanterns, dim sum and noodles. Been to little India and had yet another curry on a banana leaf, the only difference being the cleanliness..... admired the high rise buildings and never ending array of shopping malls and got a tattoo in the process!

Most importantly for me though I have been reunited with my wife Lucy and her two friends Ben and Lyndsey which has been amazing, after ten months of "when will i see you again" we finally got to share a bottle of wine....well we actually managed to drink one each and catch up on the tonnes of gossip, stories and encounters that we have had in between sips. It was wonderful, a rejuvenating experience. The next day we met up again and almost killed ourselves on a little day trip. We had read about a Tree top walk, a huge bridge suspended in the park linking the two highest parts. It sounded like a nice thing to do.....a little stroll in the forest and it was free!!!! Um...our supposedly ten minute walk turned into four hours, add the fact that not only had we set off in the midday heat but we had also some wonderful headaches to boot! It was nice scenery but to be honest after we got over the bridge, we were over it completley and just wanted to get back to civilisation! That was a mission in itself, it turned out that we had to retrace our steps the whole way back....ahhh! The treat at the end of the day was some percy pigs from Marks and Spencer, yes good old Marks!!!!

It is expensive here, its eating my budget into the ground but i am having fun with it so what the hell! Lyndsey and i had made the most of it one day, starting in the pub.....with a bottle of wine to share. Though this did go a little pete tong! We were sitting there chilling and chatting when all of a sudden this hand reaches over and grabs her phone off the table, we turn to see an old chinese man on his bike desperately trying to get his peddles in order to whizz off with his stolen goods.(Seriously if you were on the rob you would think that you would be ready to peddle away at full speed rather than trying to line them up?!?) In a flash Lyndsey (now re-named She-ra) was on her feet, running after him, she got hold of him and wrestled him and his bike to the floor, retrieving her phone to his cries of "sorry, sorry, you can have your phone". I meanwhile was stood at the table unable to leave because of our bags, silently cheering her on and wondering whether this was a photo opportunity? Phone retrieved, all was well, it was a fleeting glimpse of the not so 'safest city in the world'.

Slightly shell shocked after the event we finished the wine, thought about ordering another bottle but then decided that maybe we should do something....so off to Sentosa Island we went. The name of the day was silly photos.....posing with the random statues....being ballerinas and generally making fools of ourselves. Spotting the luge, we couldnt resist and soon we were the proud owners of green crash helmets, racing down the track as fast as we dared, wheelies round the corners to the finish. It was awesome, we drew but that was only because Lyndsey managed to sneak past me at the very last minute. We were supposed to be braking, there was a man stood in the middle of the track telling us to brake.....how she didnt wipe him out, well its beyond me! In the evening we watched the light show, aimed at children it was still awesome, lights, lasers, fire and a whole lot of imagination left us smiling.

I just love it here. You can chill in a cafe watching the world go by, eat great food, meet friends, party, you can do whatever you like except spit out chewing gum. That would get you in a whole heap of trouble!!! Its been a great place to recoup and a great steeping stone to Malaysia my next destination. It means another farewell to Lucy but not forever, next time we meet we will probably be in a van in the outback! Singapore is giving me a new lease of life if not a slightly empty pocket!!

Danger! Danger! Is there really a need to be worried?

rebmason80 — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 13:11:00 GMT

The teardrop of India, Sri Lanka is also known as the pearl, these poetic euphanisms really don’t do it justice. The country and its people are amazing; it has everything to offer and more. However at the moment sense of danger lurks underneath the surface, trouble is erupting between the LTTE’s (Liberation Tamil Tigers Eelam) and the government. It is a problem that has been alive since the 1970’s, ebbing and flowing in hits and spurts. Before flying to Sri Lanka Ant and I checked the British Foreign offices advise, as long as we weren’t to travel to the North and the East coast we would be safe. However in the same breath staring at the computer screen we read that a bomb had gone off in the capital, Colombo. It was a chance, a small risk but after weighing up the pros and the cons we made the decision to go.

Leaving the airport terminal we were soon confronted by realizations of the true situation. Sand bags formed a wall where a machine gun pointed out fully loaded with a serious young man standing keeping guard behind it. His serious façade was easily broken with a smile and reciprocated; it quickly made him seem less intimidating. This sight was to be the norm in Colombo.

After a couple of days in the city we ventured out and started to explore the country after a well needed rest at the beach. Like Chinese whispers news was passed around recent bombings through the backpacker community. Details were always a little unclear but the feeling always the same and the goose bumps a constant reminder. Independence day was looming (4^th Feb) causing anxiety, the fear of attacks was high, friends that I had met who were on there way to the airport choosing to take taxis rather than run the risk of boarding a train or bus. Bomb scares and attacks were becoming more frequent, the injured and death rates rising. Security in turn got higher; check points along the roads clamping down on the buses and trains. Peoples awareness of their surroundings and others. Every one of us travelers eagerly searching and reading about the situation before traveling onwards.

Heading down the coast with Ant and John I felt that we had become a bit blaze about it all. We were still taking trains and buses along with the locals, hoping against hope that the police were being really vigilant and doing their jobs to there full capacities. Boarding one bus fully laydened I did get a fright. After heaving on our bags and managing to acquire a seat we were off bumping and swaying down the road. Five minutes into the journey the ticket man standing near the front began to shout. I have learnt a small amount but this time I didn’t need words, I read through the lines, his body telling me all I needed to know. Shouting he was pointing at what seemed to be an unattended piece of luggage, worst of all no one seemed to be claiming it. My mind was racing; words screaming in my head…whose bag is it? Somebody please claim it! Could it be a bomb?!? I felt an imminent sense of danger; thankfully the panic was only to be short lived as it was claimed. Oh thank you.

Sitting there thankful and immensely relieved I was still safe I looked over to my friends, squished up the same as me they seemed unaware of the commotion that had just taken place. I thought about it as I looked around me, men, women, kids, grandparents and us. I am lucky I know, I have more choices, I can take a taxi, hell I can fly out of here but for the locals they cant. This is something that they have to live with, fear and face everyday. With the war being officially declared its going to be hard on everyone, already prices have shot up to almost double, tourists are thinning out, my heart really does go out to them.

Even with the looming danger Sri Lanka has found a place in my heart.

Insect Central

rebmason80 — Thu, 6 Mar 2008 13:09:00 GMT

‘Picture yourself in a boat on a river with tangerine trees and marmalade skies’. Ahhh, that psychadelic song by The Beatles. I am desperately trying to lull myself to sleep with that line as I lie beside Ant though he could well be Indiana Jones as the shack we are sleeping in could easily be mistaken as the temple of doom.

Whilst writing this I am sat outside our room now fully dressed with a t-shirt round my neck to protect me from the mosquito’s, gnats and moths that are whizzing round my head in a quest for the light bulb. If someone had given me the foresight to bring a whole body mosquito net tent I would happily sit in that right now! You see I can’t sleep, I’ve tried, one of the things keeping me awake is the cockroach I lost… Before tucking myself into bed I spied the little beastie out of the corner of my eye perched on the bed frame. Calmly I swiped at it but it shot off the wrong way, flying across the net (which doesn’t seem to be working…we tried patching the hundreds of holes with selotape…. note to self..it does not work!) and slid down into the huge gap between bed and frame. Great. The perfect little haven for a creepy crawly. Meanwhile Ant is asleep, I am so jealous, what I am now wondering is should I wake him, does this count as an emergency? I decide not to and start to conduct a quiet search, finding nothing… (Where do they vanish to?) I have looked under the bed (not a good idea), cautiously moved the net and pillows and nought, zadda, zilch. All I can do to insure our safety is jam my jumper in one gap, my reading book in the other, wrap myself like a cocoon in the sheet and pray it doesn’t surface. Lying there in the dark I could feel things moving slowly over me, tiny little bugs that look like poppy seeds, swiping at them I told myself to get a grip. Then the oh so familiar sound of a mosquito buzzing round my ear, what finally tipped me over the edge though was when I laid my head on the pillow breathed in and a fly shot up my nose!

Now you would be quite right in asking ‘what are you doing there?’ in fact I am asking myself the very same question right now. Well, after a long and tedious bus journey to the east coast, a short tuk tuk ride we arrived in Arugam Bay, promptly taken to a hostel and surveyed the room. It is basic, a cabana by the sea, a shack more or less but its cheap and that’s what us travelers look for, something to make the trip last that little bit longer. What more could you ask for? ….other than for half the insect population to vacate AT ONCE! The bed is okay…. a shake down will do, mosquito net…. repairable with selotape, or so we though, the glassless net less bathroom windows….copable and the yellow water coming out of the taps…. we will let it run a bit!!!!!

The first night we spent squashing ‘poppy seeds’, it wasn’t all that pleasant but the owner was soon helping us, fresh though ill fitting sheets supplied, one problem solved…a toilet seat provided, strike two off the list! Now maybe we should have moved? Why didn’t we, because we felt bad, its low season, there are no tourists due to the war, income is bad, most places are shut and Mohammed (owner) has been kind. He brings us breakfast – passed over the fence from another hotel, cooks us lunch and dinner down the road at a different hotel, he treats us well and I would feel bad taking the money away from him. So we put up with it.

The second night I slept like a baby, it seemed all our troubles were over, mmmn until the rain came. The mattress got wet in the corners…so we moved into the middle. My new fear was, were we going to have leeches falling from the rafters???

Waking up we were dry, relief washed over us, it was a new day, bright sunshine flowed into the room, a beach to ourselves until…night fell and insect city awoke!

The first mission before getting into bed was to retrieve the hairy moth from inside the net, flapping the net got rid of him. Then the cockroach, Ant got out his special chalk and tried to draw a circle round it to contain it but the cockroach wouldn’t keep still so it didn’t work…kind of predictable really. So then we were scrambling round the room sealing our bags…I have enough to carry without adding an insect family to the equation! Okay so then we had the dead spider, lying on the bed…where had he been and what was big enough to kill it? By now Ant has got the jitters and is frantically brushing off the bed like a mad man.

I go to brush my teeth and find two sets of eyes blinking at me, “how you doing boys?” I ask the frog and lizard in between brushing. I shut the door behind me quickly; one bed partner is enough thanks! The millipedes, no joke here, one crawling up the wall, one on the door and a huge one with talon like feet crawling round the bathroom…. probably friends with the hairy caterpillar I found the other night! Have I forgotten any? Oh just the moths, spiders in webs, gnats etc, I am almost positive that there are more unidentifiable ones lurking somewhere; I am in no hurry to seek them out though. So now I am completely freaked out, but with heavy eyelids bedtime is calling. I wonder what I will be dreaming about tonight?

Adams "pant" Peak

rebmason80 — Sun, 2 Mar 2008 13:06:00 GMT

“Five thousand two hundred steps, is that all?”…. I was of course joking. Sitting comfortably in the taxi with Steve, Maureen and Ant we could see Adams Peak looming in the distance, towering over the other mountains. This is what we were coming to conquer…. Maureen and I looked at each other with a slight grimace. “Are we supposed to be looking forward to this?” I asked the others but also to myself.

This holy mountain is the bearer of several legends. Adams Peak is named this because it is believed that this is where Adam first set foot on earth after being cast out of heaven. Then the name Sri Pada meaning sacred footprint which is believed to be left by Buddha. Then you have my favourite, Samanalakande (though typically the only one I cant say…) which means butterfly mountain, sounds lovely until I read further and it said that this is the place that they come to die. Ahhh. Now apparently there is a huge footprint at the top, again believed to belong to either St Thomas (apostle of India) of Lord Shiva, I must say that I didn’t see it, a little disappointing but that doesn’t mean to say that it doesn’t exist. What it comes down to is what you choose to believe.

Arriving on a Saturday we sat and discussed the leaving time for our trek, reading through the book Maureen was getting a bit anxious, “the book says leave at two, the hotel guy says half past so Steve I think we should leave at one…..just in case…..so I think I will go to bed at four” she said. Ant and I tried to explain that they didn’t need to leave that early but it didn’t work and so we planned on setting off at half two in the morning, not because we are any fitter more the fact that we didn’t want to get up so early! So I sat there working out when I needed to go to bed…..zzzz time is very important to me!

Walking into the small town of Dalhouise we were surprised at the amount of people surging through the streets, young and old alike. The town was certainly bustling, it took on the appearance of a fairground but without the rides, endless stalls were set up selling all sorts of things, offerings to take up to the gods, chair sized simply awful dog money boxes, fleeces, hats, blocks of jelly looking sweets and fluorescent plastic flowers plus a load of tat thrown in for good measure. Seeing the mass of people we asked the locals about our choice of leaving on that night/early morning (depending on which way you chose to look at it) and quickly we came to the conclusion that we would give it a miss that night, pro-long it for one more day…..! Along with Poya (holiday) days pilgrims travel from far and wide to make the journey up the steps on a Sunday morning. I could envisage us cramming up with the masses step by step…..very slowly. I had also come across several groups of young men, voices and comments loud and brash, their words irrelevant, something I didn’t want to have to put up with for the whole climb! Sitting at breakfast the next morning we spoke to some other tourists who had decided to do the climb the previous morning and as we had predicted it was a bit of a nightmare for them. The climb that takes anything from two – four hours (maximum) ended up taking them six! Lots of pushing and shoving as well. I was certainly glad we had put it back a day!

So with the day free we all went for a ‘warm up’ stroll, a walk through the hills to the lake. High up on the road we decided to get closer and followed a sandy path to the water. Miss judging a step I planted both feet in orange tainted oozing mud! This was just the start…. I was to almost die of blood loss…. (Maybe a small exaggeration!) What we wanted to do was follow the waters edge around the lake….but what we wanted and what was possible were two different things! Soon we were scrambling through the bush, trying to follow the faint path and then it disappeared altogether! Following behind Maureen I was presented with her bum in my face as she slipped and skidded up the hill, occasionally giving her a helpful shove. At one point she shouted down “watch out, rocks”, I sidestepped as a dislodged rock came tumbling down. Then she stopped and calmly said, “leech”. Oh no, my heart sank. I looked down to my feet barely protected in flip-flops and that’s when I saw it…the bloodsucking leech attached to my foot. Ahhh I am going to die of blood loss!!! “Ant” I screeched, “Get….it….off….me!!!!!”. My knight in shining Armour was too far ahead to save me though. So Mr Knight two (Steve) stepped in with his cigarette shaped sword, swiped and saved Maureen and I practically stripped there and then in the search for anymore blood suckers, relieved we found none. So our relaxing morning stroll turned into something more energetic than we had all anticipated!

It was to be an early night for all of us, Maureen and Steve taking the lead by wishing their goodnights at about five, at seven I was thinking about bed when I saw Steve quietly creeping out of his room, a glass of whisky in his hand. The early to bed tactic obviously hadn’t worked! I left him on the patio nursing his drink and cigarette as I tried to convince myself to go to bed. At eight I was still reading….the only thing to do was turn off the light and wait for sleep.

‘Trill, trill, trill” the alarm blasted in my ear signaling the two am start, by half past we were ready. Thermals on, hat, coat and boots. I actually felt quite refreshed but still not quite ready for all those steps, have I mentioned there are five thousand two hundred of them? A gentle start along a dirt path led us past pilgrims finishing their journey some being helped down, umm this didn’t bode too well. Then we met a monk who blessed us whilst tying a multi-coloured shoelace round our wrists. Was this going to get me up and down? This is what he led me to believe….

One, two, miss a few ninety-nine, one hundred…if only it was that easy. In this modern day and age why hasn’t an escalator been installed? Ant and I took it easy, a nice leisurely pace; even so I was soon shedding my layers as sweat started pouring down my face. About the a third of the way we stopped for a tea break and a ciggie, of course being tourists we were ripped off. We realised when I asked a local what we should have paid, this infuriated a tired Ant…”its about the principle” he muttered as he went over to speak to the guy. Red faced and cross, Ant told him what he thought,”I am going to close this shop, you’re a thief, ” and in the words of Arnie “I will be back”. That told him…as we walked on I tried to stifle my giggles!

The path was lit, (thank goodness for small mercies!) so we could see the steps, we were going to have to wait until sunrise to see what actually surrounded us. Resting again I looked down the mountain, the path that we had already completed surprised me, all the lights twinkling and snaking round seemed further than what I thought we had done. It looked so pretty, it also meant that we weren’t far off. The gradual steps soon got steeper luckily there were railings, a safety device or a way of hauling yourself up?

We made it to the top well before sunrise meeting up with Maureen and Steve who had exceeded their own estimations, together we sat and waited for sunrise. Visiting the monastery at the top at 2243 meters we went and toiled the bell once, this was letting all and sundry know this was our first visit. As the sun slowly rose it bobbed up and down giving the appearance of it rising three times, getting brighter, illuminating the mountains surrounding us. It was wonderful to be up there and watch the beautiful world open before our eyes.

Now, the way down…..it seemed like a totally new route, the scenery was stunning but my knees and legs didn’t think much of it at all! It was worse than the up, wobbly, aching, jelly legs is what we had to contend with…..it was a case of just keep on going. We reached the bottom at nine, turning around we could see what we had accomplished, we could see our achievement and it felt good. The next day our inability to walk testified to the amount of steps we had done, it had certainly had left an impression on us!

Tea-riffic

rebmason80 — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 13:04:00 GMT

A cuppa char,

A brew,

There is nothing quite like a nice cup of tea. Visiting a tea factor, seeing exactly where it comes from, swept off the floor, handled by yours truly…thank goodness we made it using boiling water.

Ant, Maureen, Steve and I climbed into a taxi heading for Liptons Seat just outside Haputale and drove up through the tea plantations. It was the easy way of getting up the hill; it allowed us a gentle stroll up to the top. We had magnificent views; an abundance of evergreen tea bushes scaled the hills, pickers moving in and out of the fields busy at work. Huge acacia trees are scattered amongst them giving a good foothold for the lines of tea trees in the hills.
The clouds started to close in quickly at eleven making our decision to walk down easy otherwise soon we wouldn’t be able to see a thing. We cut through the plantations, hopping from boulders; it certainly cut out a lot of the seven kilometers walk back down. Descending we past groups of woman laydened with their bags of tea precariously balanced on their heads heading to a weighing station. These women work extremely hard carefully weaving their way along selecting the new buds high in the hills. How they do it amazes me, some of the plantations are so steep. The pay is minimal, 300 rupees for a days work, there pay is based on collecting fifteen kilos and anymore that they pick they receive a small commission.
After the ladies have toiled in the fields the tealeaves are placed on large troughs where they are dried for twenty-four hours. The process of chopping and fermenting follows, the smell is intoxicating and brings on the urge for a good brew.
However I don’t think health and safety rules apply, okay so they wear hats and overalls but what exactly is the point if workers and tourists walk through tea scattered on the floor, sift through it with their hands before its all swept up and put through the machine making its way to sacks before turning into tea bags. Over looking all of that (hope your not in the middle of a brew..) it was interesting and um….eye opening…he he he he

Yala and the elusive Leopard

rebmason80 — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 12:51:00 GMT

A jeep for seven, gears crunching as we roll backwards and forwards, smoke chugging out the back…not the ideal way to lure a leopard but still the search continued……

Yala National Park is located on the south east coast of Sri Lanka covering an area of 1260 sq km. Its recently be re-opened again to tourists though the 5.50am start has been put back to 6.30am so that the army can ‘clear’ the roads from potential bombs. Enquiring with our driver about the bombs, “do they actually find many?”….”Oh yes” he calmly responded. Thankfully we were safe and well in the park by now, my decision hadn’t been made until two days before to go. It was after speaking to the locals and tour guides that they put my mind to rest and I booked in, my safety being my main concern.

So there we were sitting in the back of a jeep, John the Swede taking a multitude of snaps of himself, John.com (named because of his love of the internet) his camera non-stop clicking, Gavin the fiery red head from Ireland, Ant and I. It wasn’t the most spacious or comfortable, legs forever clashing, heads cracking against the interior but since when has wildlife searching been done in luxury, unless you are sitting in front of the telly watching wildlife on one?

On arriving in the park we acquired a compulsory ‘guide’ though to say guide is a mere suggestion of his job, I think throughout the whole day he pointed out two things and then promptly nodded off! Our driver though was an absolute star, constantly surprising us by spotting animals and birds that were mere feet from us, even with our five pairs of eyes staring out covering all angles we had failed to spot.

“There up that tree, a hawk eagle” he would pronounce as the jeep came to a halt.

“Wild boar” as he reversed the jeep, smoke billowing out.

“Marsh crocodile” as we looked out across the lake trying to find it dozing on the bank.

“Mongoose” as we came to a stand still to watch it dart across the road into the under growth.

“Bee-eater bird” as we looked around, only to find it perched on a branch inches away.

“Monitor lizard” as we trained our eyes on the camouflaged reptile moseying along.

Our driver was fabulous, to say he had an eye for it would an under statement.

We of course like the other jeeps rattling around the park were on the hunt for a leopard, highly endangered due to their habitat destruction. It turned out to be a futile search though, but nevertheless we stopped and waited with patience, just incase. Fourteen eyes peering into the bushes desperate to spot one, circling tracks, reversing up and down, hoping against hope to see one prowling for food or lounging in a tree. To be honest I don’t think the noise of our jeep helped one little bit, the black smoke pumping out the back, well I felt it was a bit of a deterrent…

Not spotting the leopard did not ruin our day though, we were far from disappointed. Yala was better than I had imagined and exceeded my expectations. The landscape was an eye capturing mix of dry barren plains, rocks jutting out, blue lakes, luscious green trees rising high up and a sand covered coastline just teeming with wildlife. There wasn’t a minute that went by that an animal or bird wasn’t visible.

In the park 130 species of birds have been recorded and I could see why, Parakeets, Brahiminy Kites, Hornbills, brightly coloured bee-eaters, huddles of storks chilling by the lake, these are to name but a few. Such amazing colours as you see them fly through the sky to rest on a barren tree sitting in the middle of the lake. The perfect platform for us to observe them.

We sat and watched spotted deer munching on the grass, dancing peacocks strutting their stuff and fanning their tails in a mating ritual, wild boar roaming, jackals running through the bush, langal monkeys swinging through the trees and my ultimate favourite the elephants. We were able to get close to the mums and their babies without disturbing them, watching them feed on the scrubs, kicking at stubborn roots, having a good munch. One baby we saw stood behind its mother, just out of shot of her pooing but then proceeded to eat her dung! Can’t say it looked all that appetizing but I suppose that’s nature at its finest!

During the suns peak at midday we stopped by the sea in a sheltered spot to have lunch. It was picturesque, a deserted beach with crabs scurrying in and out of the water and huge out crops of rocks waiting to be climbed. We all gave in and had a snooze before dining on rice and curry. Gavin unknowingly turned out to be the afternoons entertainment, as the four of us were sat chatting he strolled down to the sea for a swim. Over the dune of sand then he disappeared out of sight. After a while we thought he had been quite a long time and then he came slowly into our focus, his head of curly hair, his torso and then the rest of his NAKED body!!! Obviously seeing a deserted beach he had taken the opportunity to be free in the water. Little did he realize that we could see everything!!!….as he stood there starkers looking out to sea for the last time and as he did the foot shake dance trying to get the sand off him before covering up…Needless to say the boys jokes about seeing a python spurred on much laughter…. later seeing himself captured on camera in full glory he finally cottoned on to the merriment!

Rested and the jeeps punctured tyre changed we set off again but still no sign of the leopard. After a couple more hours of feeling like David Attenborough we left the park fully satisfied. Though one last joy was to be had as our driver squirmed through some bushes to spot a very rare tusked elephant, what a beauty! Tusked elephants are rare because they normally have their tusks removed to save them from being hunted by poachers….it was a perfect way to end an eye encapsulating day.

White Auntie

rebmason80 — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 13:00:00 GMT

Ker ho……..ker hom……. ker homme…e..der

KERHOMMERDER…….I stutter my way through the words, watching the lips of my friend intently, imitating her mouth movements, my first step at attempting to learn sinalese. Once I got it there was no stopping me, sitting outside our hotel room I asked every Sinhalese passerby “kerhommeder?” meaning how are you? Until it finally rolled off my tongue without me sounding like a dysfunctional robot. Plus I actually got understood! Bonus!

This was just the beginning….its about trying, more often than not making a slight fool of yourself, repetion and memorizing until the words I am trying to speak start to mean something to me. With confidence I am getting a bit clearer with my pronunciation. It bridges a small gap and breaks down language barriers.
Staying in Tissa further down the coast, John the Swede, Ant and I stayed at a lovely hotel in the jungle run by a kind family and their two children. They were the best teachers, never tiring of my questions or the fact that I was like a stuck record repeating myself again and again and again…..I sat with the two children encouraging them to draw with me, they were shy at first so they watched as I drew a cat, dog, fish and snake. They were fascinated by the animal sounds I made, copying me and laughing. Soon I had the whole family around me prompting, encouraging, laughing with me whilst I tried to learn the names of the animals and extend my limited Sinhalese vocabulary.
I pointed at the cat, ‘poosa’. I repeated it. Then the dog, ‘bala’. Once again I repeated it. I quickly remembered them, rolling them off my tongue with the children. It was so much fun, the game not boring us in the slightest and with it a bond was established. The children and I were soon squealing around the hotel in a game of catch……”they like you” the grandma told me. I was pleased.
Later on in the day the children came out of the house, saw me reading on the porch, waved shyly safe in their grandmas arms. I heard one of them point at me and call me ‘white auntie’. How sweet. And that’s how I got my new nickname.