Claire's travels

Day 173 - Thank you India

claire_jefferies — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 02:59:00 GMT

So, just as I did when I left SE Asia, some thoughts on my journey through the most sensual, crazy, contrasting and unique country in the world. We coined an acronym - T.I.I - This is India. As many a shop keeper would tell us - ‘In India, Madame, anything is possible’ (accompanied, naturally, by the Indian head wobble)

India is a constant assault on the senses - the heat, dirt & dust on your skin, the vivid colours of saris, of puja markings and fire, the green of Kerala, the orange of baba robes and the white of Himalaya snows.

The craziness of the cities, the peace of the mountains and the constant beeping of horns. The sound of the morning gongs from the temples and the calls of ’chai, chai, Nescoffee’ on the trains.

The chanting of Aarti, the chanting of Buddhist monks in Dharamsala and the chanting of yoga students following Rory in the sun salutations.

The smell of cow shit & human urine, of delicious smelling street food.

The stillness of yoga practice. The cool of the Ganges at Rishikesh. Religion being so much a part of everyday life.

The downsides - the talking to your chest, the ‘accidental’ brush ups against you. Indian foot rot. CONSTANTLY dirty feet. In fact, constantly dirty everything. The begging. The poverty. The pollution. Constantly sweating. Sleeping under a wet sarong, just to keep cool.

Feeling like a filmstar: ‘1 snap please madam’, the kindness of strangers, the scamming by officials. The forgiveness of colonialism and its sins.

The fruit: Mangoes, watermelons, papaya, pineapple and coconuts. A cow taking a bite out of a papaya from a fruit stand.

Learning to meditate. Living in an Ashram. Bathing in the Ganges. Shakti & Shiva. Exploring what spirituality means to me. Being told my fortune and losing my cynicism for once.

The love of bureaucracy and the flagrant disregard for rules. Walking at a frustratingly slow pace, but driving as those time is of the essence.

Thank you India. I had a plan and discarded it. I learnt that for me, India was an experience to be taken slowly. To while away the time in Rishikesh and Kerala. To spend time with friends. To meet interesting people and to learn new things. I didn’t tick much off my list. But I think I gained more.

Days 167 - 172 - International Shakti Group (minus one) on tour

claire_jefferies — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 02:55:00 GMT

Having escaped the cosmicness & clean living of Rishikesh, we decided that Delhi was about living it up - shopping, eating & drinking. I enlisted the help of my friend Badris who I’d met in Dharamsala & lives in Delhi.

After a couple of minor disasters - such as Courtenay losing her bank card in the station (our yogic powers of positive thinking meant it was found and returned - imagine THAT!) and arriving for our 8pm appointment at 9.45, we had a lovely night in the Defence Colony area of Delhi with Badris - In a Bar! That served Cocktails! I had THREE of the little darlings, and NORMAL food (including meat! But I’ve decided to complete my 3 months of vegetarianism as planned).

A little shopping, and a lot of internet on the Tuesday, then Badris invited us over to his flat where we cooed in wonderment at the novelty of things like a fridge, a washing machine and air conditioning. It was an exciting moment for us.

We left Delhi for Agra on Wednesday morning - a whistle stop tour of some of the most important sites in India. Wednesday evening found us sitting in a rooftop restaurant with a Kingfisher beer and the glory of the Taj Mahal, perhaps the world’s finest monument to love, in front of us. Awesome.

I kept sitting there repeating ‘we’re at the Taj Mahal. The TAJ MAHAL’. I suspect it was a bit annoying. But I was blown away - I was actually here, in India. Seeing one of the world’s iconic monuments. It was another of those ‘I’m actually travelling’ moments.

Many people have described the majesty of the Taj in far better words than I ever could, so I won’t even try too. We were there at first light, when the temperature was cool, and the marble was coloured by both sunshine & shade. It is truly a beautiful monument, but somehow I wasn’t touched by it, or emotionally affected. I’ve learnt on this trip that I’m more blown away by natural beauty than man-made monuments.

We snapped away (including the obligatory Princess Diana sad-faced pose) then headed off for the rest of our whistle stop tour of Agra, led by our Rickshaw driver, Ali. Now Ali was very sweet, bless him, but he was possibly the funniest looking guy I’ve ever met. His teeth were at 45 degree angles, his hair was awry and he had proper bottle-bottom glasses. But he was a great guide for us. I actually liked Agra fort more than the Taj - I found it more beautiful with more life & soul to it.

That night, no rest for the wicked - an overnight train to Varanasi. After a battle to reclaim our bunks, we settled down for the night, and actually managed to grab some sleep.

We arrived in Varanasi early morning. Possibly one of the most important cities to Hindus, people who die in Varanasi are promised Moksha - immediate entry into enlightenment, without needing the endless cycle of reincarnation.

This makes Varanasi the city of Death.

It’s most famous for the ghats (steps) down to the Ganges, some of which house funeral pyres which burn bodies 24 hours a day. It’s a strange town. The narrow, winding streets of the old town which wind down to the river reminded me of North Africa - cows everywhere, beggars, every building some kind of store and so much life, noise and colour. But in the midst of all this life, death is ever present - from those who have come to Varanasi to die close to the Ganges, to the bodies that are carried through the streets to the river, carried by outcasts, to the stores selling firewood & the glittery, tinselly cloth the bodies are wrapped in.

To burn a body on the ghats costs 3000 rupees (about £45) to buy the right amount of wood, and takes 3 hours. People save their whole lives for this, and many people are starving to prevent them using their precious firewood money. It’s not unheard of for partially burnt bodies to be floating in the Ganges as they didn’t have enough money for the correct amount of wood, but luckily we didn’t experience this.

We had a beautiful view of the Ganges from our balcony, and one of the things that really struck me about the river was just how different it looked to the same river we’d swum in in Rishikesh. In Rishikesh it was a river full of life - cold, clear mountain water, fast current and absolutely beautiful blue colour. In Varanasi, the water is officially septic, a murky blue brown and teeming with unidentifiable pond life. Amazingly, Indians can bathe in the waters without suffering instant death, and there are not only fish, but DOLPHINS there. It baffles the scientists.

We took both a sunset & a sunrise trip on the water, watching the life & death scenes of Varanasi - from the burning ghats, to the washing being done in the river (Query - how clean do your clothes get, washing them in septic water?) and drying out on the steps, we saw one guy doing laughing yoga on the steps, plenty of Puja ceremonies, kids playing in the river, a swimming class & the evening Aarti ceremony.

We also became truly Indian - cramming the three of us into a cycle rickshaw - Courtenay perched on me & Ragga’s laps. Which was interesting.

Varanasi was a crazy place, but I kind of liked it. In a strange way. However it was very bittersweet. Varanasi was not only the end of my India journey, but the end of my entire trip. I had to say goodbye to Courtenay & Ragga with whom I’d had a fantastic few days - we spent most of our time in hysterics over the silliest of things, but it was fantastic to have some real girl time, and I’ll always cherish it.

All this has been written on my flight to Mumbai, for my last night on Indian soil. I can’t believe my 6 months is up.

Days 158 - 166 The return to Rishi-la-la land*

claire_jefferies — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 02:52:00 GMT

I was super excited to be heading back to Rishikesh - I’d had such a great time there, and although they say you should never go back, I was keen to head back to the yoga school to see my friends graduate from their courses.

I arrived back on the Friday, after a night of no sleep (attempting a snooze in Old Delhi station between the hours of 2am & 6am had not been overly successful) and charged into the yoga hall to massive hugs from Lindsey & Courtenay. It felt right to have come back. On my way to grab some food I bumped into more familiar faces - Woody & Pe’era, the guy from the chai stall, Negi from the store, and the staff at Moondance café. It felt great to be so welcomed back.

That evening was the final lecture, so Lindsey & I headed downstairs for it, seeing other familiar faces - Ragga, Mac & Michael, and meeting some new ones.

Next day was the final ceremony - so after a marathon, full power FOUR HOUR (Yes, FOUR HOURS) yoga class in the morning, Lindsey & I decided to go & visit the astrologer recommended by the yoga school. I’d decided to go as a bit of a scientific experiment - how much could be cold read, and could he pick up anything that was pretty impossible to guess?

Some of you know what he said, but here are just a couple of highlights for the rest of you (after all, you can’t know all my secrets…)

He knew I was in Marketing, and said I was successful in my current company & should stay for 3 years (good news Sanchia J )

He also knew I’d recently been in Cambodia, that my Father had health problems but came from a healthy family and he also said that my Mum & I had been sisters in a past life and had fallen out over a man.

I have a habit of trying to fix other people, and I really should find my peace from inside myself.

Something made me make another appointment for the Thursday.

The closing ceremony that evening was lovely - everyone got their certificates, and were given a garland of flowers, a mark of protection on the forehead, and a protective string on the wrist (alright, alright, I can see you all rolling your eyes - it was a bit cosmic, but really quite beautiful. And we got cake.) Although I hadn’t completed the full month, I got everything but the certificate too.

Then it was time for people to showcase their talents. I hadn’t had chance to prepare anything (I would have done a reading), but Courtenay did a gorgeous freestyle ballet performance, Lindsey blew everyone away with her singing of Janis Joplin, Woody & Mac both gave inspirational readings, and we had a demonstration of Laughing Yoga which had us all, well, laughing actually. And then Woody stitched me up by making me do a reading with him. About cricket. I may be English, but the only thing I know about cricket is that they stop for tea (which I always thought was an excellent idea for a sport)

We repaired to the Moondance café for one last fruit shake blitz - Pe’era & I went crazy & had watermelon - very off piste from our usual mango. After a good re-bonding session, it was an early night for Lindsey we & I as she was heading off super early the next morning.

The following day, Courtenay & I decided to do An Activity Other Than Yoga, as we’d spent most of our time doing yoga, and not a lot else. We hiked in the midday sun (now I’m not calling Courtenay a mad dog, but I’m definitely English…..) to a waterfall for a dip, then met up with Pe’era & Ragga for the inaugural meeting of what became known as the International Shakti Group (ISG). Shakti is the feminine energy of the universe, and we’d been encouraged to embrace our femininity & what better way to do that than over food and gossip? Having put the world to rights, we agreed to a follow up meeting the next day.

The next day I went with Ragga to the astrologer to write notes for her, did some early morning practice (Yoga! At 6.30 am! Me!) and generally enjoyed mooching around Rishikesh. Tuesday was spent in similar fashion - spending time hanging out with Woody & Courtenay, then the three of us went to watch the Aarti ceremony on the river as the sun set.

Wednesday was shopping day - I randomly bought a sari, and Courtenay’s ajna chakra (I.e her head) was viciously attacked by the auto rickshaw, and also saw a lot of our friends heading out of Rishikesh, so we had a final dinner at Moondance, and another meeting of ISG, this time with a special guest speaker of Woody who was there to provide a masculine a counterpoint and tell us how to find a nice man (you see, we’re very deep & spiritual at our Shakti group meetings)

On Thursday I had a bit of a strange experience - I went with Courtenay to the astrologer (as scribe again), then we went for a dip in the Ganges (karma all cleansed again - I’m so pure now), then headed back to the astrologer for my second appointment. Now, I had a bit of a weird experience here. Prateek the astrologer was telling us a story about a film star & a director he’d done a reading for, and before he could finish the story, I piped up ‘it was Nicole Kidman & Sidney Poitier, wasn’t it?’

He was freaked out. So was I - I just knew who he was talking about. I’d seen the incident before. Like déjà vu. Prateek is now convinced that I have the gift of second sight, and wants me to be an astrologer. I’m not so convinced, but it was very, very strange. Which in addition to a number of other strange things in Rishikesh, has led Ollie to dub it Rishi-la-la land and give me a severe talking to about science and the brain and stuff.

But it would be cool if I really DID have second sight. Just think of what I could achieve if I could HARNESS this power…..my yoga teacher has instructed me to meditate with an orange ping pong ball to enhance my powers, so WATCH OUT……

The freakiness continued when we decided, for a giggle, to buy some Goddess tarot cards and played with them. It was particularly odd when I asked the cards, in a restaurant, if I’d become a mother. Not only did they come up with the Goddess of fertility & true love (which means I’ll meet my soul mate & be pregnant by spring next year - which is nice), but at that exact moment, SIX western women came in with SIX babies. Now you very rarely see babies in Rishikesh - it’s not really family holiday territory. It was a SIGN.

(Ok, reading this back makes me sound completely nuts. I promise I have not shaved my head, or grown dreadlocks, and donned some kind of white robe. I am not going to become an astrologer, nor have I joined a cult. I haven’t yet meditated with my ping pong ball either. Just to clarify.)

On Sunday we left Rishi-la-la for the final time, heading down to the holy city of Haridwar, where Pe’era & Courtenay were going to undertake a Puja ceremony at the temple to cleanse their past lives which were causing them trouble. (I know, I know, we’ve all gone totally mad). The Puja was fascinating though - pouring offerings of milk, curd, honey (with the addition of fruit & muesli you’d have the perfect Rishi-la-la breakfast) over the Shiva lingam, making offerings of bananas to Ganesh & lots of chanting. Even Ragga & I received some cleansing benefits, just by our presence, which was a bit of a bonus.

After a fond farewell to the newly cleansed Pe’era, it was time for Ragga, Courtenay & I to head to Delhi for the next leg of our adventure.

*ä Ollie

Day 153 - ‘Mangooooo, Watermelonnnnnn, Pine-APPLE, Coconut. MADAME. Watermelon!’

claire_jefferies — Mon, 6 Apr 2009 23:22:00 GMT

So, there comes a time in every relationship where there’s that difficult conversation. And I’m afraid that we’ve got to that point.

"So Claire, where are you now?"

"Well, Mel & I are in Kerala at the moment"

"And how’s that"

"It’s very beautiful, and green, and clean - very different to the rest of India, like a separate country Oh, and it‘s hot. Meltingly so."

"So where have you been?"

"We’re in a coastal town called Varkala - it’s a beautiful beach, with the resort perched on the cliffs. We‘re spending our day on the beach soaking up the sun, doing a little yoga, listening to the fruit ladies"

"Sounds great. And what else have you done"

"Ummmmmmmmm"

"Well, where are you heading next?"

"Ummmmmmmmmm."

"You mean you’re not going to the Backwaters? Cochin? Madurai?"

"Ummmmmmmmmm"

Did I mention it was VERY hot?"

You see, the thing is, we’ve elected to spend two weeks not being backpackers, or even flashpackers, but (gasp) holiday-makers.

Are you deeply shocked?

In a way I do feel terribly guilty - I’m in INDIA for God’s sake - a country that’s practically a continent, with a huge depth of culture, and beauty and amazing and awe-inspiring sights.

And I’m spending 2 weeks on a beach that frankly, could be pretty much anywhere.

Now I could make out that I’m being all altruistic because Mel hasn’t seen the sun for ages and really needed some downtime to chill out and stuff, but the truth is, I’m too damn hot to move further than from my air-conditioned room to my sun lounger and the return trip (truth be told, even that’s knackering, there’s loads of steps).

We began our trip with a flight (what, no 42 hour train journey?) from Delhi to Trivandrum with Kingfisher (an airline! Named after beer! How cool is THAT! Unfortunately they didn’t give us free beer which I thought was most unfair). Flying in over Kerala, I was first struck with just how green it all was - we flew in over thousands of palm trees making a beautiful green carpet leading down to the sea. Stunning.

We spent our first few nights flashpacking - a nice little place a couple of miles out of the main resort, all wooden floors & raffia (not sure of the significance of the raffia - it makes a most uncomfortable floorcovering) It was a lovely place, but with two major downsides: No air-con and it was 2 miles from the resort, which was fine during the day - a nice walk, but stumbling around after dark with only my mobile for light became less entertaining each day.

Next we decided to backpack (we’re sounding like Goldilocks & the 3 bears here) for a couple of nights, so picked somewhere out of the trusty Lonely Planet. It was OK for my (now) humble tastes, but still lacked the air conditioning and such luxuries as a toilet with a flush. However it did come with a FREE cockroach thrown in, which isn’t a bad deal. Mel bravely stuck it out for 2 nights, then the lack of sleep due to heat got to the pair of us.

We have now become holidaymakers & checked into the Green Palace, which is indeed palatial, and has air-conditioning. If I was at all talented that way, I would compose sonnets to the inventor of air-conditioning. But I shall instead offer a grateful word of thanks to him.

I don’t know why I’ve been so badly impacted by the heat here - after all, I have been in Dubai in July, when my flip-flops actually MELTED, but it’s just so humid here - I go out with wet hair in the evening, it’s 30 degrees outside, and my hair’s still wet when I get back later.

Kerala itself is like a totally different country - we haven’t seen a single cow wandering around, it’s really clean, there are hammer & sickles painted everywhere (just like Vietnam), the people look different too - the skin here is much darker, and the men wear sarongs. Kerala was the first place in the world to vote in a Communist government in 1957, and they’ve been pretty much in power ever since, and, dare I say it, they seem to be doing a pretty good job of it.

Life in Varkala has now settled into a familiar pattern: we wake up, apply suntan lotion liberally (naturally), head out for breakfast (Muesli, fruit, curd & honey, no banana please. And a pineapple juice. Same for Mel, with banana, and a black coffee for her - you see, this blog is FASCINATING isn’t it?) before hitting the beach to salute the sun for a few hours. Our day is spent in the usual fashion: reading, ipodding & putting the world to rights. All accompanied by a soundtrack from the fruit ladies: "Mangooooo, Watermelonnnnnn, Pine-APPLE, Coconut. MADAME! Watermelon! (Imagine this last ‘Watermelon’ to be uttered in reverent tones, as though it is some rare and exotic diamond, smuggled down to the beach for our perusal)

Bless em, they’re persistant, passing by every 10 minutes or so - just in case we had an urgent requirement for fruit.

I then head up for my yoga practice (I’m so dedicated) while sun-worshipper Mel sticks it out til sundown. Evenings are pretty quiet - Beer is available, and is served in a nice flowery mug, with the beer bottle cunningly disguised by being wrapped in newspaper (Kerala isn’t a dry state, but none of the places are licensed as it’s really expensive). We’re both being veggie whilst we’re here - I’ve now been vegetarian for 4.5 weeks and doing OK - I won’t be a veggie for good, but I think I’ll be a meat minimalist from now on.

As a result of my 2 week holiday, I’ve now gone off spreadsheet (shock!) and am going to head back North when Mel leaves - a flying visit back to Rishikesh to see my chums there, then a bit of a wander round the North before my return to London TWO weeks on Sunday :-o

Day 141 - a typical Rishi day

claire_jefferies — Mon, 6 Apr 2009 23:17:00 GMT

So I thought I’d use this entry to give you an idea of a typical day on my yoga course.

The alarm will go off at about 7.30 (I know, it’s like being at WORK), then Lindsey & I first have to do our purification (kriya) yoga.

We start off with a tongue scraping using a special metal implement. It’s gross. Then we cleanse the rest of our mouth by scrubbing out with river salt - across the teeth & gums, inner cheeks and roof of the mouth.

Next is the easy one - splashing the eyes with fresh water - as veteran contact lens wearers this one holds no worries for us. The final one I hate the most.

We have a plastic pot called a Neti. You fill this with warm water and some river salt. Then, breathing through the mouth (veeeerrrrrryyy important), you pour the water gently up one nostril, and it then pours out of the other. Obviously I haven’t got the hang of it yet, and water goes all over the place, added to which, the whole process makes you feel like you’ve done a somersault in a swimming pool and the water’s gone up your nose.

I’m not sure I’ll be continuing with the Neti pot after I leave here…….

I then take my Ayurvedic herbs, plus the two extra to mix into my yoghurt later. I went to an Ayurvedic doctor to see what they say. All they do is take your pulse, then reel off the list of your ailments. He was pretty spot on, so I now have a myriad of herbs to take morning and night. All of which taste foul.

We leave the guesthouse at 8, clutching our ginger tea, then head down the road from Laxshman Jhula (where we live) to Ram Jhula (where the yoga hall is). It’s about a mile walk, with great views of the Ganges, and plenty of life to keep us occupied: cows wandering around, jeeps careering round the corner with horns blaring, stalls trying to sell us nuts & spices, the constant attempt to avoid cow shit and Sadhus (holy men) begging for rupees.

It takes us about 20 minutes, then we stop at a chai (tea) stall for Lindsey to get her morning tea before we head into class. Each morning we learn a new posture or asana, so as it‘s day 9 we‘re now up to 9. At this school, the emphasis is on holding the postures for a long period of time - currently about 6 minutes. One of the great things I’m finding is that each day, the poses we learnt in the first week are becoming easier - I’m stretching further, holding for longer. Unfortunately the new postures are killing me - particularly in the arms. Apparently this means I am very impure in my Svaddistdharra chakra - the chakra of physical and sensual pleasure. Oops. I need to get onto a higher plane. Sigh.

After class, we head back to Laxshman Jhula for breakfast at the Freedom café: a huge bowl of muesli, fruit and curd (yoghurt), which I now mix with one of my Ayurvedic remedies: Ginger and pepper. It’s actually not too bad. This meal does for both breakfast & lunch. We’ll then typically do some reading, or chatting, or internet until about 3.30 when we head back to Ram Jhula for our next class.

We do manage to mix it up a little though - one day a belly dancing class, another day we walked to the Beatles Ashram (where they wrote most of the White Album, which is my favourite) and of course we had to bathe in the Ganges to purify ourselves and remove our bad karma from all our dark deeds.

So I’m now pure, despite my Svaddistdharra impurities.

Our next class is at 4pm, and is similar to the morning, with the addition of the Sun Salutations which I love - we even do chanting which sounds beautiful. After class, we have an hour & a half free to have dinner. Lindsey & I have our favourite dining spot called Ganesha’s café which does the most amazing Thali for only 50 rupees (about 75p) - you get 3 types of curry, typically lentil dhal, paneer masala and aloo gobi, rice, as many chapattis as you can eat, and plain yoghurt. Delicious.

Rishikesh is both a vegetarian & a dry town, so I’ve eaten no meat or alcohol for some time (in fact, I’ve eaten no meat since coming to India). The healthy diet, 4 miles of walking and 4 hours of yoga a day MUST be having an impact, surely?!

At 7.30 we return to the yoga hall for the final time, this time for a lecture on an aspect of yoga. The school we’re at goes into full yoga teaching - not just the physical side as we tend to learn in the west, so I now know more than I ever needed or wanted to know about chakras, astral planes and the like.

I have to say, it’s a bit of a struggle to remain open minded with some of the concepts - you see I’m just too rational for this stuff - I like proof, and evidence. But I shall persevere, and I’m really enjoying the classes, and I've met some fantastic & interesting people.

After class, which usually finishes at about 9.30, we’re pretty tired, so we head back to Lax for the final time, then trot off to bed, ready for the next day’s class.

Days 123-130 - from Delhi to Dalai

claire_jefferies — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 18:23:00 GMT

My arrival in India, and my first week has passed without too much of the India Culture shock. My trip from Mumbai to Delhi was fine - I’d arranged a pick up at the airport, and my guesthouse was a gorgeous little homestay - family run, with beautiful furnishings, great staff and hot water.

My train the following day was at 4.30pm, so I decided to do a bit of a tour of the city. I’d made the decision that I was going to be kind to myself for the first few days in India, so I took a car and a driver for the day to show me round the old city. First stop was the Red Fort, built by Shah Jahan (of Taj Mahal fame). The driver parked up in the car park, and I had a 5 minute walk to the entrance. I was mentally preparing myself to run the gauntlet, but compared to your average North African souk, I barely got hassled at all. I think I’ve perfected the ‘shades on, stare into the middle distance, acknowledge no one’ thing from various trips to the Middle East…..

The red fort was impressive - some beautiful architecture, but it didn’t really touch me, and I was missing my travelling buddies - it’s so much more fun when you have people to share things with.

After visiting the fort, I headed over to the mosque which is HUGE. Unfortunately it was closed for prayers which was a little annoying, but I did get to walk through the bazaar which was fun, and once again, relatively hassle free.

New Delhi station was teeming with people, but I figured out which platform my train would come in on and headed over there. I perched on my backpack writing my journal - I was object of interest to many, but only 2 boys spoke to me - asking me if I wanted my shoes polished.

I was wearing pink flip-flops so I politely declined.

The train was great - on time (First Great Western take note), with 2 meals served - high tea of a sandwich, tea and pakora, then a main meal of paneer masala - yum. They are super efficient too - they knew that I’d ordered a vegetarian meal. The 5 hour train journey cost me about £8 including the two meals and water.

Next morning, I headed over to the beautiful Golden Temple. This is the holiest temple for the Sikhs and is also famous for a terrible massacre the British Army handed out in 1919 where we shot over 1000 people who were peacefully protesting. I do love apologising for my nation’s past conduct wherever I go.

I decided to start in the Sikh museum, which frankly is more of an art gallery. I’d been warned repeatedly that in India everyone a) wants a piece of you and b) is after your money so I was on my guard for both. In the museum I met a gorgeous family - Mum and 2 kids. The kids kept following me round, and wanted to practise their English.

As I came out of the museum, two absolutely gorgeous girls, probably in their early 20s came rushing over for a chat - again completely charming.

Inside the temple I once again became a bit of a celebrity, with several people wanting to take my photo with them, or with their kids - they were all so lovely, and so pleased that I had come to the Golden Temple.

The temple itself is absolutely gorgeous - the centre is built from solid gold - there is continuous chanting from dawn to sunset and there are hordes of pilgrims and worshippers - bathing in the lake, or queuing to see the holy book that’s stored in the temple in the centre of the lake. I had a gorgeous morning wandering around and taking it all in.

The Sikh religion welcomes allcomers to the temple, and as part of their tradition, they serve everyone who comes to the temple with a free lunch - they serve over 14,000 visitors a day with simple food - chapati, rice and dhal. I took my place and ate with the locals, sitting on the floor eating with my hands off a silver tray - it felt great and I left a healthy donation - it’s great work they do there.

That afternoon I went to take in the other star attraction in Amritsar: the India/Pakistan border crossing. It would be fair to say that India and Pakistan aren’t the greatest of friends. Amritsar has the only road crossing between the 2 countries, which not only makes for a super busy crossing, but also gives the opportunity for a great show of splendour each day.

It’s kind of a cross between a Bollywood movie, WWE wrestling and a football match.

For the hour or so before the ceremony, Bollywood hits are blaring out. Girls in the crowd get up and dance, and as the first group of soldiers come out, there’s an almighty dash to grab the Indian flags and run to the gate waving them towards Pakistan, accompanied by cheers from the crowd. Pakistan in their turn also have music playing and flags waving, but is an altogether more sedate affair, with no dancing and the women segregated from the men.

After an hour of hysteria building, the soldiers come out. Lots of goose stepping and shouting - there’s a ‘shout off’ between the soldiers on both sides - who can holler the longest and loudest. There’s lots of shouting of ‘Hindustan Zindabad’ (Long live India) met with chants of ‘Pakistan’ on the other side - all great fun.

The soldiers line up, give a massive shout, then do the highest kick (made my eyes water just seeing it) and a super quick march to the gate, another high kick and a shout. Repeat. 5 times. On both sides.

There’s then a brief handshake between commanding officers, then the 2 flags are pulled down inch by inch at the same time, then the gates are slammed shut til the following morning. Brilliant.

I’d travelled to the border in a shared taxi with a family - the Grandfather spoke good English, as he’d spent some time in London and gravely reminded me that in England we have the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, and could I remind him what time it was held at?

The family was lovely, and we had a great chat on the way back to Amritsar, with a discussion on politics and the disaster that was partition (yup, another apology for my country’s conduct). The conversation culminated in the Grandpa giving me his telephone number and inviting my husband and I for dinner in Delhi.

Which would have been great, had I got a husband.

The thing is, I’d been advised, as a single woman, to always claim I was married, not only to avoid harassment from Indian men who can tend to see Western women as easy, but also as it’s considered to be tragically sad for a woman to be in her 30s and unmarried, and therefore I could expect lots of questions as to why that was. So I made up a husband (he sounds lovely by the way, a real catch) who was doing some work in Delhi, so I was taking the opportunity to see a little of the country.

So it’s a shame I won’t be able to take Mr Guptal’s offer up - but what it taught me within my first few days in India is that the people here are, by and large, absolutely lovely - really interested in you, concerned for you and very very kind.

Monday morning saw my heading off on my next adventure - the journey up to Dharamsala in the Himalayas.

I had to get two buses. The first was quite a luxurious local bus - again, I was the only Westerner on it. As I was trying to find somewhere to stow my bag on the second bus, two westerners got on. It was an exciting moment.

Lindsey and Cash, two Americans who are travelling together, but are not together (which reminded me immediately of Ollie and I) introduced themselves, and we started chatting away, getting on like a house on fire - it ended with them inviting me to share a room with them in Dharamsala which was so kind - a really lovely offer.

Dharamsala is beautiful - it’s in the foothills of the Himalayas - there are snow capped peaks in thee distance, the air is fresh and clear, and there’s an altogether different vibe here.

Basically this is because it’s not really India - it’s more like a mini Tibet. The Dalai Lama fled here in 1959 after Chinese occupation and the violent end to peaceful protests. The Indian government gave the Tibetans a home, and for the last 50 years, Dharamsala has been the home of the Tibetan government in exile. The people here are in the main Tibetan Buddhists, with just a few Indians resident.

We saw on posters that the following day, the 10^th March was the 50^th Anniversary of the Tibetan uprising against Chinese rule, and that there was to be a day of events at the Temple, ending with a candlelit vigil.

Next morning, at about 8.45, the Dalai Lama himself came out to address the crowd and the press in his role as leader of the Tibetan people. He gave the speech in Tibetan, but English translations were handed out. The event even made the front page of BBC headlines.

I’m not immensely political, or spiritual, and I’ve only ever had a passing interest in the Tibetan situation. But I have admired the Dalai Lama for some time - he seems a very reasonable man - interested in the world around him - science as well as spirituality, with a sense of humour (he has a great chuckle) - and I like the way that Buddhism also almost shrugs its shoulders: not everyone should be Buddhist, believe in what you like. I like the non-conversion philosophy they have, and I like the very welcoming feel they have.

I’m not going to shave my head & don the maroon robes just yet. But I will admit to having a lump in my throat on hearing the singing and chanting, and the passion the Tibetan people have for their leader. There’s a lovely Welsh word - hiraeth which means something like ’a longing for home’ - that’s exactly how these people feel - many of whom have never set foot in Tibet.

It was a beautiful ceremony, and I feel tremendously privileged to have been there on such a special day. The Dalai Lama passed within 15 feet of me as he returned to his residence. It had never occurred to me that the Dalai Lama would be in residence, as he’s so often travelling around the world, but I have been lucky to see him twice, as today I heard him speak (in Tibetan) on more spiritual subjects. A Tibetan sat next to me gave me some translations, but I just enjoyed taking in the atmosphere.

Today was the last time he will speak ‘at home’ for several months, so our timing was perfect.

Lindsey and I went on a mini-trek into the hills, meeting a lovely young Tibetan girl called DindinTenzin (most Tibetans have the name Tenzin, which is the Dalai Lama’s name) which was great. Unfortunately I was ill for the last evening, but I did have the most amazing Tibetan massage - the woman was awesome and better than any chiropractor - she sorted out my dodgy hip beautifully.

Next stop Shimla, the former British hill station, then onto Rishikesh.

Day 122 - On leaving SE Asia

claire_jefferies — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:27:00 GMT

Wow.

I’m sitting writing this in a coffee shop in Mumbai airport, waiting to check in for my flight to Delhi, and the start of my Indian adventure. This feels like a whole new trip - the confidence I’ve built up over the last 4 months in Asia is about to disappear, and I’m faced with a whole host of new challenges, noises, sights, sounds & experiences over the next 7 weeks.

As I was thinking about what’s coming up, and trying not to panic too much (I’m on my OWN! In INDIA! I’m going to HATE it!) I got to thinking about my last 4 months, and what I’ve learnt, not only about different countries and cultures, but also about myself.

So I thought I’d try and sum up my thoughts of what I know after:

9 flights

10 ferries

11 minibuses

3 sleeper buses

11 local buses

11 Songthaews

Innumerable tuk-tuks

A yacht

A dinghy (how I hated that bloody dinghy)

Many long tails

Speedboat

Elephants

Bamboo raft

White water raft

A zip wire

A Thai train

A Vietnamese sleeper train

A quad bike

Motos

Pick up trucks

Kayaks

Bicycle

And a tractor inner tube

Here’s what I've learnt:

I know that planning gives me comfort, but I like to go off plan

That I’m more of a backpacker than a flash packer at heart

I’m more capable than I think I am

I’m a great friend

I’m not any more clumsy than the average person

That first impressions can be deceiving

That people you think can teach you nothing will teach you something

That life goes on, no matter what your worries - PERSPECTIVE

That mankind can be cruel

That mankind has the most amazing survival spirit

That I don’t need to only receive validation via my career - I can and will get it elsewhere

That my inner coach ROCKS

That the twists & turns of coincidence are amazing - life could be so different with the smallest of changes and decisions

I choose how I’m defined - people perceive me as I define myself

That underneath, every single one of us, is self-obsessed. And once you know that, you worry less about what people think (thanks Benny :-))

That something beautiful can come from something a bit crap

That opening up to strangers can be a relief

That I deserve an equal. And moreover, that one day I’ll find one.

Showing weakness isn’t a failure

Sharing a weakness strengthens a friendship

And I’m only 2/3rds of the way through my trip!

And what of the things I’ve seen & experienced?

Meeting my family again and getting to know them all - Julie, Chris, Mo, Hani & Orion

A thunderstorm off the Malaysian coast

The beauty of Peanut butter French toast

Building a dam with James & Todd

Seeing the remaining impact of the Tsunami in Khao Lak

Yoga on the beach in Ko Lanta

Bathing elephants at dawn

Flying through the jungle on zip wires

White water rafting

Asking Buddha for my fortune

A taxi breakdown in Cambodia

Sunrise at Angkor Wat on Christmas Eve

My first whisky bucket

Christmas lunch on the balcony in Siem Reap

Seeing Cambodia pass me by as I stuck my head out of a minibus

Quad biking through rural Cambodia

Meeting our amazing Quad biking guide

Tuol Sleng prison and the horrors of the Khmer Rouge

The triumph of the human spirit in the Cambodian people

Beautiful sunsets in Sihanoukville & Phu Quoc

The awesome border crossing between Cambodia and Vietnam

The Cu Chi tunnels & the AK-47

The dreaded sleeper buses

My birthday in Vietnam

Partying on a pool table, dancing to my ipod

Moto riding in the mountains of Sapa

Extreme hardcore tubing

Vientiane

Being a champion card shark

Waterfalls, caves & coffee in Laos

The plastic stool on the bus

Riding in the back of a pick up truck

The tranquillity of Don Det

So, to Julie, Chris, Mo, Hani & Orion, to James, Todd & Mark, to Lee, Sarah and my adopted family at the Elephant conservation centre, to my extreme hardcore tubing chums and everyone I met in between

But most of all, to Kathryn, Ben, Roxane and Ollie

Thank you for making this the best experience of my life to date.

India, here I come!

The South East Asia playlist

claire_jefferies — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:26:00 GMT

I like the way that hearing a particular song, or piece of music can instantly transport you to a particular place, or moment in time. Added to which, as many of you know, I sing constantly (despite being tuneless)

Throughout my trip so far, I’ve been noting down the songs that will always bring me back here, and for what it’s worth, here are the 43 tracks that will always sum up my 4 months in Asia

1. Olive - You’re not alone One of my favourite tracks anyway, but the lyrics on this one seemed appropriate: “I will not worry for you, you’ll be just fine. Take my thoughts with you….I will not falter though, I’ll hold on til you’re home, safely back where you belong“. I imagined my friends thinking these things about me as I left

2. Abba - Lay all your love on me - the only Abba song I actually like, this reminds me of karaoke at Julie & Chris’s

3. The Cranberries - Zombie - two memories for this one - the first is the ‘entertainer’ murdering this at the Phi Phi hotel we moored up at, the second is singing this on the minibus to Halong Bay to the annoyance of everyone else who was hungover

4. REM - Night swimming - what else could it be when having a swim/shower off the back of the yacht as dusk set in

5. Texas - In Demand - because I always had the line ‘wrote my name in silver sand’ in my head - which I did, on Ko Tarutao and Ko Rang

6. Wild World - Maxi Priest - two memories again - the restaurant played this at Langkawi marina, and it was a favourite on Railay beach at the Bamboo bar.

7. Ace of Base - Don’t turn around - reminds me of the final night with James & Todd on Langkawi at the Irish bar

8. Shakira - Hips don’t lie - moored off Phi Phi island, I swear this was played about 15 times a night

9. Coldplay - Warning Sign - will always remind me of the afternoon ‘off’ we had on the yacht, the deserted beach, watching the world go by.

10. The Pogues & Kirsty Macoll - Fairytale of New York - the song they played at midnight on Christmas Eve in Angkor What? Bar.

11. Gnarls Barklay - Smiley Faces - Will always remind me of Angkor What?

12. Dido - Here with Me - Christmas afternoon watching Love Actually with this track playing during me & Rox’s favourite scene

13. Muse - Hysteria - singing along to this with my head stuck out of the window of the minibus waving to everyone in Cambodia

14. The Go! Team - Bottle Rocket - as above

15. Justice & Simian - We are your friends - Siem Reap nights out generally
16. Muse - Knights of Cydonia - two memories again - the bus ride from Phnom Penh to Sihanoukville and bouncing along to this on the back of the moped in Sapa

17. House of Pain - Jump Around - hearing this TWICE in Chivas Shack in Sihanoukville and Ben collapsing in a heap after so much exertion

18. Phil Collins - Another day in paradise - played every day by one bar in Sihanoukville. Kind of appropriate I guess

19. Bloc Party - Helicoptor - just reminds me of being around the Monkey Republic bungalows in Sihanoukville. Bravaaaaado.

20. Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter - Always remind me of Vietnam: the border crossing, the Rockpile Firebase

21. Rolling Stones - Sympathy for the Devil - for our own devilish one

22. Pulp - Sorted for Es and Whiz - singing this one on the beach at Phu Quoc and again on the back of the moto in Sapa

23. The Kinks - Lola - For my incessant singing of possibly the best lyric ever: ‘I may not be the most masculine man, but I know what I am, and I’m glad I’m a man and so is Lola’ on Phu Quoc

24. Kings of Leon - Sex on Fire - bit of a trip ever present, but I will always remember this as ‘my skin is on fire’ after the burning incident in Nha Trang

25. September - Cry for You - one of our ‘Hoi An emergency’ play list - dancing on a pool table to my ipod

26. Oasis - Champagne Supernova - one of the songs to get us back down to Sapa

27. Oasis - Wonder wall - likewise. And because I am.

28. Mamas & Papas - California Dreamin - being played in the Swiss looking restaurant in Vietnam with log fire. Bizarre.

29. Sigur Ros - Hoppipolla - Ollie’s song, will remind me of one particular moment, looking out over the rice fields realising that a) I’m actually here, in Vietnam and b) no matter what my petty worries are, life here, will go on as it always has done. My perspective song.

30. Sufjan Stevens - Chicago - introduced to this track after our trek in Sapa, fell in love with it

31. Blue Boy - remember me -we just randomly started singing this walking to Lao Cai train station before the train journey from hell

32. Stevie Wonder - Signed, Sealed, Delivered - the amazing journey over the mountains from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng

33. MGMT - Kids - Partying in Vang Vieng - specifically, my brother getting excited about it being MGMT and then realising he was the only person who knew the song.

34. MIA - Paper Planes - Partying in Vang Vieng, and an ever constant earworm ever since. Aka the Slumdog Millionaire song (no idea if it has anything to do with it in truth)

35. Delirium - Silence - for some reason just reminds me of the last night with Ben in Vang Vieng

36. Robbie Williams - Feel - Vientiane. A particular line, and a memorable conversation

37. The Hollies - He Ain’t Heavy - walking the 2km from the main road to Ban Na, down a long and red dusty road

38. Ian Brown - FEAR - chilling out in the room the night before the Kong Lo cave trip

39. Muse - Feeling Good - travelling in a Songthaew in Southern Laos

40. The Twang - Either Way - Sitting in the back of a pick up truck, heading down to the 4000 islands

41. Johnny Cash -Hurt - chilling in the hammock and strange coincidence of hearing it later that night in a bar

42. Sonic Youth - Superstar - can’t remember why, but we were singing ‘don’t you remember you told me you loved me baby’ rather a lot

43. Blur - To the End - “Well it look like, we might have made it, yes it looks like we made it to the end”. And we did. Our last few days in Don Det

Days 108 - 121 - The return to Thailand

claire_jefferies — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:25:00 GMT

We had quite an adventurous trip back to Bangkok. First leg - longtail to the mainland and a minibus to Pakse. In classic Lao style, this all seemed to be rather more complicated than it needed to be. We were the last (naturally) in our minibus, so Ollie squeezed in the back, while I sat next to the driver. Whilst I was quite keen on snoozing, the driver kept jabbing me awake so I could plug his phone into the charger socket for him - every time it rang, he unplugged it again, and he was a very popular guy, so I was kept busy.

He wasn’t the greatest driver in the world - he nearly hit a cow that was crossing the road, and then he DID hit a goat - it seemed to survive though.

We transferred onto our next bus, which would take us from Pakse to Ubon Ratchathani just over the border to Thailand. I spent the journey saying my goodbyes to Laos - I felt really quite emotional, like it was the end of an era.

At the border we had our next adventure - or rather Ollie became a knight in shining armour once again - a German girl on our bus had overstayed her visa, and therefore had to pay a $30 fine. Which would have been fine, had she had any cash. Or had there been an ATM. We pooled her our leftover kip, but the border guards were very unhelpful - there was an ATM on the Thai side of the border, but the German girl couldn’t get across to Thailand. Ollie very kindly ran over to the Thai border, got some cash out and ran back. The German girl was annoying very calm about the whole thing - I felt like there should have been more tears and higher stress levels.

Onto our next bus, another overnighter - pretty comfortable this time, but neither of us were feeling particularly sleepy after a day of sitting, and every time we did nod off, the lights would all come on as we arrived at another stop. Most annoying.

We arrived in Bangkok, bleary eyed at 6am and headed for Soi Rambutri where our favourite guesthouses were - and this was to be our first mini-separation: I was staying at a slightly higher end guesthouse as Jules was arriving that day for a visit, whilst Ollie was back at his old faithful Apple Guesthouse. We agreed to meet for dinner at 7 - which left about 12 hours APART.

Which was all very odd - like missing my right hand or something.

I headed out to the airport to meet Jules - after a good old natter and catch up on the way back to Bangkok, we met up with Ollie and had some street food and a beer Chang (which DOESN’T poison me). Jet lag was hitting Jules hard, so she and I headed home at 11 for a very respectable early night.

Next day, Jules and I hit the tailors shops so she could get sorted with some new suits for work. After shopping and a massage, it already seemed to be evening, and for my last night with Ollie (sob). We went for some authentic Thai Mexican food, and hit the frozen strawberry margaritas hard. Jules then headed off to bed at about midnight, leaving Ollie and I to have a final drink and a fond farewell. As I was a bit, ummmm, tired and emotional, I cried absolute buckets, but that man of stone shared nary a tear. Heartless.

The next day, I girded my shoulders, and after a little more tailoring, Jules and I headed to the airport for our flight to Phuket. We saw an amazing thunderstorm as we took off, and imagine my surprise when I was leafing through the in-flight magazine and saw a picture of my niece Mo, in an advert for the school.

On arriving at Phuket, we headed down to Phuket Backpackers - where it all began. I gave ‘our’ dorm a wave, but unfortunately Jules and I were in a really bad room - it was absolutely boiling hot & noisy, so we didn’t get a great nights sleep.

Next morning, it was up bright and early to catch the Ferry to Ko Phi Phi. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, and Jules in particular loved sitting on deck watching the world go by. Unfortunately, this was without suntan lotion on, and therefore there was some serious burning involved.

We decided to spend just one night on Phi Phi, so we found ourselves a hotel & settled down for a strenuous afternoon of sunbathing followed by a massage on the beach which was gorgeous. After a spot of dinner at our hotel, we headed over to Ao Ton Sai, the main resort, by long tail, where I introduced Jules to the beauty of the vodka bucket.

Next day we headed off to Ko Lanta, where we spent the next three nights. We did have some good intentions about doing stuff, but somehow we never quite got round to it and ended up sunbathing for 3 days. Oops. We did see the most amazing sunsets though - the best I’ve seen the whole trip - the sky looked like it was on fire. Absolutely beautiful.

On the Saturday, we decided to head to Railay Beach - reputedly the most beautiful in Thailand, and I’m inclined to agree - it’s a lovely stretch of sand surrounded by huge limestone cliffs - although Railay is on the mainland, it’s effectively an island as it’s only accessible by boat. We had a relaxing couple of days here, and on our final night we sat on the beach, watching fireshows and drinking cocktails.

Back to Bangkok on the Monday, and after some final fittings at the tailors, we managed a whistlestop tour of some of Bangkok’s sights before Jules left to get her plane home.

Alone again, for the first time in two months. It felt quite strange.

I had 3 days in Bangkok, and plenty I needed to do, dedicating one day to various admin, one to shopping and one for sightseeing before heading off to Julie & Chris’ for a final goodbye to them & the kids.

The circle I began on the 5^th November was finishing on the 5^th March. A nice symmetry I think.

Days 103-108 - Lazy days in the 4000 islands

claire_jefferies — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 17:22:00 GMT

Our final destination, the 4000 islands.

And what a beautiful place to end the SE Asia trip. The 4000 islands are situated within the Mekong river. At this point, it swells to almost 14km wide in the wet season, and as the rains have such an enormous impact on the river, the number of islands and the size of them, shrinks & grows with the seasons.

Don Det is one of the smaller inhabited islands. It has a real laid back feel to it - there is no mains electricity: Fridges are plastic chests that are filled with blocks of ice daily, generators run from 6-11 at night after which it is candlelight and torches.

We had a definite picture in our minds - a bamboo hut on the river bank and two hammocks on the balcony. Unfortunately, as we arrived quite late, we had very few accommodation options available to us. We ended up with the last bungalow at a place named Paradise, on the Sunrise side of the island. We were greeted by a real California style hippy named Lance, who had been living at the Paradise bungalows for 3 months. He even brought a guitar to breakfast and had a plaited grey beard. Our bungalow at Paradise was pretty lousy even by my new low standards: no river view, only 1 (uncomfortable) hammock and the perfect slot next to the noisy generator. We resolved to try & move the following day - not only was the hut a bit crap, but the people were all terribly pleased with themselves, and trying VERY hard to be proper travellers, with a fair amount of sanctimony thrown in.

On the plus side, I did get to tick off one fairly bizarre thing off my wish list: a bucket shower. Which was great - an enormous vat of cold water and a plastic saucepan. I loved it.

That evening we had a couple of beers round the communal dinner table at Paradise, then moved on to another bar after our kitchen closed. I had another of my Beer Lao poisoning moments (oops) but we had good gossips and saw some absolutely amazing stars.

The following day, we decided to go for a bit of a stroll to see if we could spot somewhere else to stay. In classic style, we ended up on a bit of a marathon walk and completed the circuit of the island. We stopped for lunch by the bridge to the neighbouring island of Don Khon and had the most delicious coconut shake - Don Det is renowned for the quality of the coconuts grown there, and the shakes were heavenly.

We had a great day of exploring - stumbling across a family of water buffalo, leading some other tourists down the wrong path (they thought we looked like we knew where we were going - HA), and seeing the way the Mekong changes the direction of its flow as it meanders around the islands. As we completed our circuit, we found ourselves on the Sunset side and spotted some nice looking bungalows. By a stroke of luck, one was free, so we bagged it and dashed back to Paradise to collect our bags.

We made it to our new hut in time for sunset - cracked open a couple of beers and sat in our hammocks. Bliss.

The following day, apathy set in - we managed to have a day of not really stirring very far from our hammocks, playing cards & writing Ollie’s life plan (nothing major then!). That evening we summoned up the energy to be a little more sociable and joined in a card game with some of the other guests at the bungalows - a couple of guys from Yorkshire and two from Australia.

The following morning we had a trip booked. First up, a visit to see the rare Irrawaddy Dolphins that congregate in the Mekong during the dry season. We managed to see the dolphins - apparently they’ll bring us luck, which is good news.

It was a bit of a different matter trying to take photos of them though - I managed to get about 40 pictures of the water, with a few greyish shapes that COULD, conceivably be a dolphin. Oh well, I know I saw them.

We then went onto the ’Big Waterfall’ - the Pha Peng falls. These falls are created when the Mekong goes from being 14km wide to being about 100 metres wide, so the force of the water is huge. These falls also mark the border with Cambodia - strange to be so close to the country we loved so much. The falls were absolutely stunning - they must be truly spectacular during the rainy season.

After the falls, we had to go on a bank run - as there’s no electricity on Don Det, there are no ATMs and we’d miscalculated how much money we’d need. Oops.

After such a strenuous morning, we awarded ourselves the afternoon off, and sat in our hammocks playing Uno and eating Pringles and nuts. Nutritious. That evening, we had a big night with the guys from the bungalows, but for some reason I was annoyingly sober, so didn’t have quite as good a time as the others J

The following day was to be our last on the islands. We decided to hire some bikes and cycle over to Don Khon. I’m not the world’s greatest cyclist - I’d been a bit put off after falling off a bike into a rose bush at the age of 16, but this trip is all about trying new things, and I managed ok - we actually cycled a long way - over to the ‘Small waterfall’ of Li Phi, then onto the beach - absolutely baking hot sands due to the metal deposits of fools gold. We had a quick swim in the Mekong (tick) and continued our journey. We made it to the far side of Don Khon which rewarded us with a beautiful view of hundreds of islands, island life and the hills of Cambodia. Absolutely beautiful.

We spent our last evening with Sam from the bungalows, in the Reggae bar drinking Beer Lao and the revolting Lao-Lao rice whisky. The evening culminated with heading down to the beach where fires were lit. Lovely,

Next morning, we left Don Det at 11am, ready for our 19 hour journey back to Bangkok

Days 99-103 - The Journey to the South - continued

claire_jefferies — Wed, 4 Mar 2009 14:50:00 GMT

On Friday 13^th, we headed off on a trip to the Kong Lo cave - a 7km cave with underground river flowing through it.

The setting was stunning - an aquamarine lagoon circled by more of the gothic limestone cliffs that Laos does so well. We’d come to the cave with some of our fellow guests - a French couple, a Belgian couple and a German couple. We were split into 3 per boat, so I jumped in with Belgian pair, Ollie with the French couple.

The entrance to the cave is beautiful - a jagged cutting into the rock. Armed with head torch, we set off into the cave. One of the things I liked about the cave was the fact that it was used as a rat run by local people - I mean, why clamber over a mountain when you can whiz through on a long tail? I do like a functional tourist attraction.

Inside, the cave was filled with cavernous (funny that) halls - some were 100ft high. We were there in the dry season, so water levels were low, which meant scrambling out of the boat and wading on several occasions as our boatmen lifted it over rocks.

In the central of the cave is an island. We got out here, to check out the stalactites & stalacmites. As we’re in Asia, naturally some of the rock formations had been turned into handy offering areas - even in the Kong Lo cave, spirits need to be left sticky rice.

There were plenty of what looked like tiny diamonds on the rock - although Ollie pointed out that it was more likely to be salt deposits. Which is slightly duller.

After taking some spooky photos in the blue lighting, we continued through the cave, eventually reaching the end and sunshine once more. After a lunch stop (mmmm more sticky rice - ick. On a side note, Lao people eat nothing but sticky rice. Which would normally be ok as I love sticky rice. But here they cook it SO badly - it’s revolting)

After journeying back through the cave, we had to pick up a truck back to the main Route 13 in order to pick up a local bus heading south. After waiting by the side of the road, dining on a fine range of crisps and peanuts, a bus eventually stopped & we jumped on. Ollie squeezed into a tight spot at the back, I ended up on a plastic stool in the middle for a while, before claiming a recently vacated seat next to a man who was really quite unhappy at having to share with me. Tough. It was a shortish journey - just an hour and a half or so to the town of Tha Khaek, where we had about an hour to kill before our 8 hour local bus down to the Southern city of Pakse.

We headed to a local hostel and drank copious amounts of coffee whilst Ollie had a battle with the internet (narrowband is sooooo 2001). There was an amazing festival going on at the local temple - if we’d been staying longer it would have been great to check out, but as it was, we just caught glimpses of the fireworks.

We headed back to the bus station, hoping to flag down a tuk-tuk. One arrived, and we started to negotiate. Once again, I hadn’t learned that negotiation was much harder when you’re stood there with a backppack on, talking to the only tu tuk driver around. So we lost our driver for the sake of 10p. I wasn’t very happy with myself, and started a quick march in the direction of the bus station.

Luckily, Ollie managed to flag down a lovely tuk tuk driver and his wife, who got us to the bus station on time. Unfortunately, when we got onto our bus, it was absolutely rammed, and we had to resort to plastic seats in the aisle which wasn’t a great prospect for an overnight bus for 8 hours.

We snatched a quick game of Uno, which fascinated our fellow passengers, and set off towards Pakse.

We soon noticed that on one of the seats near us, there was only one person sat, but she’d put her bag on the chair and was studiously avoiding our eye. After being frightfully English and not saying anything for a while, eventually I went and plonked myself down. She wasn’t moving the bag though, which meant we were completely crushed. Ollie used this opportunity to have a snooze on the floor of the bus in a Hanoi sleeper train fashion.

Luckily, after about half an hour, my ‘friend’ got off the bus, so Ollie and I had a proper seat for the rest of the journey. Once again, it wasn’t the most restful nights sleep, and I’m eternally grateful for my ipod, but we got to Pakse at about 6am.

We managed to grab the last room at our guesthouse, and paused for some breakfast, at which point we saw a sight I’d been looking forward to seeing since I arrived in Laos - a procession of monks collecting alms. See, there are some benefits to being up all night.

It was always going to be a struggle for us to see as much of Laos as we wanted to in our short space of time, so in Pakse we elected to join a group tour around some of the local sites. A full day of sightseeing after an overnight bus was always likely to be a bit of a struggle, but we do like a challenge.

First stop: the Bolaven Plateau. When the French colonised Laos, they spotted that this flattish, cooler area would be perfect for growing tea and coffee to rival the plantations of the Indian sub-continent. After the French left, the coffee plantations had a downturn, but a new accord with the Vietnamese (who adore their coffee) has meant that Laos tea & coffee is back up and running.

Everything here is done by hand - new tea leaves are picked by hand every two weeks - the primary crop here is Green Tea which has a much wider market in Asia than black tea. The leaves are then briefly dried out, and crushed and roasted. All of which takes about 24 hours

Coffee production is a lot more drawn out - the beans need to dry in the sun for about 2 weeks before any of the roasting begins.

Our next stop was the highest waterfalls in Laos - a 120m twin waterfall of Tad Fane. Unfortunately, as we were on a whistlestop tour, we didn’t get to see the falls from close up, only at a distance. They were spectacular though - very Jurassic park as the falls shot over cliffs amidst jungle.

Next stop was a local village famed for it’s coffin production.

I’m never very comfortable with the human zoo aspect of tourism, so I didn’t enjoy this part much. It was the first place on the trip that I encountered children begging, not because they were homeless, but because they knew that if they asked tourists, they’d get things. Even though the village was dirt poor, I refused to give anything to the kids - I think it’s pretty irresponsible and teaches kids to beg rather than work for things. I prefer to help in a more constructive way.

We headed off to some more falls, this time at the village of Tat Lo, where we stopped for lunch. This was a beautiful little resort which had a great feel to it - it would have been great to spend a few days here, swimming in the falls and doing some trekking - a definite place to return to when I next visit Laos.

Our final set of falls was at a local tourist village - this place had been set up to demonstrate the living styles of some of the tribes within Laos - interesting, but once again, a little bit Disney Laos. Instead, Ollie and I set off for a scramble over some rocks to our final waterfall - Pha Suam. The Lao really do do waterfalls very well.

After a long day, we headed back to Pakse, and decided to go for a pizza and beer - Ollie’s first beer since Vang Vieng. Well, it was valentines day, and we were both single and alone, so we thought we may as well console ourselves with a little western food.

Next day it was another early start as we had yet another marathon day. After grabbing a quick breakfast off the street - baguette (with Laughing cow this time - luxury!) and iced coffee, we jumped in a tuk-tuk to the bus station to get a local bus down to the town of Champasak.

We got to the bus station, jumped on our Songthaew, and were faced with two unusual things: a live pig in a sack and a Songthaew filled with Westerners. It’s very offputting when you’re trying to travel in local fashion, to be met with loads of other Westerners. WE are meant to be the daring and intrepid ones.

Hey ho. The Songthaew filled up with more locals, and off we headed down to Champasak which was only an hour away. On the way, we did have a tyre blow out, which once again caused me to lose an octave of my hearing - after a brief pause to repair, we were on our way again.

Champasak was going to be a bit of a smash & grab mission for us - we were going to head to Wat Pu Champasak, then get straight back out onto the road to the 4000 islands. This meant we were on a tight schedule as the last bus to the islands left at 4pm. The other Western tourists were impressed by our speed and efficiency (HA - we are proper travellers), and one of them, an Italian - Max, decided to join us in our plans.

Champasak is unusual for Laos - it’s on the Western bank of the Mekong, after the river kinks in and no longer provides a border with Thailand. To cross the mighty Mekong, we had to go over on a car ferry - which was actually two rusting barges lashed together with a platform on top - genius.

The Songthaew pulled into Champasak - phase one complete, We then negotiated a trip to the temple in a tuk-tuk and headed off. We promptly broke down - our second transport issue of the day. The temple was 10km from town, and we broke down in the town, so as our driver struggled to fix it, Ollie ran off to see if he could find another driver, which he did, but that driver had a flat tyre.

It seemed as though it was to be a day of transport issues.

Our original driver got the tuk-tuk started and we shakily headed off towards the temple. Halfway there, and miles from civilisation, the tuk tuk gave out for the final time. Drat. Our driver flagged down a passing pick-up truck, laden with big water bottles. The boys jumped into the back of the truck, I was put in the cab (booooooo).

We arrived at the Wat and headed off for an explore. The temple pre-dates Angkor Wat, and although has nothing on Angkor in terms of size, some of the same features are included - the avenue to the temple, the building style etc. This Wat is built into a hill, so we had a bit of exercise in the midday sun to climb up. Sacrifices were made here, and Ollie naturally decided to see if he could fit into a lizard shaped altar. Bizarrely, he could.

It was a really stunning setting, with great views over the countryside - well worth our flying visit, but now it was a dash back to the road - the 10km back to Champasak, a ferry then another tuk-tuk back to the main road where we could pick up our bus south. Our tuk-tuk driver had said he’d come and pick us up at the Wat, but the damage appeared to be terminal and he wasn’t there, so we jumped into a local Songthaew to get back to the ferry. We arrived at the river just in time to catch a crossing, and made it to the road for about 3.45

Had we made it for the last bus, or would we have to find somewhere to stay for the night?

A few minutes later, a pick up truck pulled over, offering us a lift. We grabbed it - a much more fun way to travel, and this time, FINALLY, I was able to sit in the back of the truck with the boys.

And what a great way to see the country - you couldn’t wipe the grins off our faces. We got to the South in super quick time, having travelled through some gorgeous scenery, seen loads of local life in the villages and had a great and comfortable trip. Absolutely brilliant - I loved that journey.

We arrived at the shore of the Mekong, just in time for sunset, chartered our long tail and set off towards our final destination - the island of Don Det.

Day 100 - Flashpacker no more

claire_jefferies — Wed, 4 Mar 2009 14:49:00 GMT

I’m hot, I’m tired, I’m dusty. My clothes are ruined with red dust, my hair is more tangle than smooth, and my eyes are filled with grit. I’ve spent 6 hours in the back of a pick up truck and I’m staying in a hut with a squat toilet and a shower to whom the word power is alien.

I love travelling and I so don’t want to go home.

I never thought I’d be this girl - I thought it would be flashpacking all the way, but I’ve properly earnt my backpacking stripes now, and I don’t know that I’ll go back.

We’ve just arrived in a small hamlet on the Vietnam road to stay overnight before a trip to a 7km underground river & cave trip tomorrow - it’s been a great day too - we woke at the Elephant Observation Tower this morning, having unfortunately not seen any elephants, but having gone to sleep with a bright yellow moon and the sounds of the jungle all around us - sleeping on the floor, in sleeping bags, under a mosquito net (or more importantly to Ollie, a spider net). We had a trek through the forest this morning, seeing more evidence of elephant activity - those things are vandals when it comes to bamboo, then headed on our ‘2 click’ hike with our backpacks down to the main road to grab a lift to our next destination.

As I stocked up on 7up, Ollie flagged down a passing Songthaew and with the aid of the trusty Lonely Planet map, got us a lift to the next big town. We shared our truck with 4 young trainee Buddhist monks (armed with ipods & the latest mobile phones) and a couple of local ladies. At Paksan, we swopped to a new truck, which was this time a bit of a food delivery truck - we shared the back with some huge bags of rice and sugar, a load of chilis, cigarettes, drinking straws and fish sauce. Delicious. After our own gourmet meal of seaweed flavoured crisps and a plain baguette washed down with a marvellous 2009 vintage 7up, we set off on the next leg of the journey.

I proved to be an object of fascination to two ladies - one of them started stroking my arm - I’m not sure if she was impressed by my whiteness (yes, I am still white after 100 days in the sun) or appalled by my freckles. We also passed some crop burning - with a bit of an inferno raging at the roadside - a tad too close when you’re in an open sided truck. The Lao are like the Khmer - kids waving at you the whole time, but the pace of life here is even slower.

Our final change of truck for the last haul meant sharing with 4 other Westerners. Imagine that - the gall of them, heading to the same place as us, when we’d been purposefully going off the beaten track. After going through some spectacular scenery - jagged limestone cliffs & mountains, we arrived in the village, and the race to grab the guesthouse raved about in the Lonely Planet ensued, with the 2 Australians ahead, swiftly followed by the French, then us lagging behind. To no avail - guesthouse full. After some cunning manoeuvres, we found ourselves in this little place.

What a great day for my 100^th

Days 99-103 - The Journey to the South

claire_jefferies — Wed, 4 Mar 2009 14:46:00 GMT

Ever since I was planning this trip, Laos was the place I had been looking forward to the most. This stint of the journey was slightly more off the beaten track than the rest of our journey had been, which is something I was really looking forward to, and it was going to be a taster session for the longer trip I’m sure I will end up doing back in Laos in the future.

Our first stop was to the Elephant Observation Tower at Ban Na. Ollie had managed 3 months in SE Asia without seeing any elephants, and regular readers will be acutely aware of my love of elephants, so the Naational Park seemed an obvious choice.

We just about made it onto a local bus heading in that direction, and bought ourselves some dry baguettes for breakfast (what we would have done for a Laughing Cow cheese triangle, I can tell you). We jumped off the bus at the 80km marker point, and hoiked our backpacks on for the 2 click walk to the village of Ban Na. After being thoroughly fleeced, we headed off into the jungle to the tower.

Despite plenty of signs that elephants had been through recently (I.e. mass destruction of bamboo) we had no look in seeing them. Still, it was a great experience to sleep in a tower under a mosquito net in the jungle on a full moon night with the jungle noises all around. Ollie woke to a rustling underneath the tower at about 3.30, but it turned out to be Water Buffalo. Dammit.

(Ollie, please note that I have made no mention at all of the complete drubbing I gave you at cards…)

Day 96-98 Vientiane. The Paris of ummmm Laos

claire_jefferies — Wed, 4 Mar 2009 00:59:00 GMT

The following day, contrary to all my expectations, as the truck pulled up at our guesthouse, Ollie was already on board - in body certainly, but the spirit was lacking - 4 days of Vang Vieng had really taken it out of him, added to which he was suffering from a bug that he’d had in Luang Prabang that had just been masked by alcohol for the preceding few days. Pete wasn’t in much better shape - too much beer and baguette had taken it’s toll.

So kayaking was obviously the activity of choice for the day.

Hmmmm.

It was actually fantastic, despite the ill-health of my companions - we ended up kayaking down a mini rapid without capsizing, which was a bit of an achievement, given I’ve managed to capsize a wooden double scull on the Thames before.

The scenery was phenomenal, the weather was glorious, the food the guide rustled up (beef kebabs today) was fantastic, and the kayaking was aided by a forgiving current. I really enjoyed the experience.

As we headed into Vientiane on our Songthaew we saw plenty of Laos life - a wedding, loads of villages, and lots of locals jumped into our truck too - it was a great way to travel to the capital.

After leaving the two ruined ones to recover with a cold drink, I headed off to find ourselves somewhere to stay - Vientiane is actually really short of beds, so it took some time, but we ended up at the Youth Inn which I thought was quite optimistically titled for us 3. It turned out to be the same place as Inge & Oystein from Vang Vieng were staying.

In the evening we strolled down to the river Mekong - the river acts as a natural border to Thailand - it seemed strange to be so close. Loads of restaurants are strung along the river bank, and we settled down to order a smorgasbord of Laos dishes, which were really great. Our soundtrack was some 90s rock classics - a few tracks by German rockers The Scorpions (remember Wind of Change’?) and a fabulous Thai rock band with ENORMOUS hair and make up who were really wild and crazy cos they kept throwing themselves on the floor. Brilliant.

Following day, Ollie still wasn’t well, but gamely decided to join us on a walking tour of Vientiane. Agaainst my better judgement, Pete put himself in charge of the Lonely Planet (I mean, he’s my BABY brother - imagine what a mess he could make of it).

Lots of people say that Vientiane’s dull, but I really liked it - it has a heavy French influence - even down to a replica Arc du Triomphe and Champs-Elysee (love the story of the Triumphal arch - America donated some concrete to build a new airport. They decided to build a monument instead, got a bit fed up part way through, so it was never finished and has now been dubbed the Concrete Monster. Brilliant.)

After only getting lost a few times, we finished the circuit, then energetically decided to jump in a tuk-tuk and head to a Wat in the forest that reputedly had a herbal sauna and massage centre in the grounds.

After getting hopelessly lost (but hearing some haunting Buddhist chanting) we found the sauna and got into our sarongs to go for the burn. I think I lasted about 15 minutes which I was pretty impressed with, the boys slightly longer. After a reviving green tea, it was time for the massage.

This was one of my magical experiences - having a great massage, as the sun sets, hearing monks chanting in the background. Gorgeous. Only occasionally broken by hearing most of Ollie’s bones crack into place.

The massage having made Ollie feel a bit better, we decided to celebrate Pete’s last night by heading to one of Vientiane’s famed French restaurants - Les Cave des Chateaux. It was great - we had white AND red wine, and I had goats cheese for started and Roquefort sauce with my steak. Ollie finally tried his buffalo, and Pete had duck. Not a noodle or tub of stick rice in sight. Heaven.

After a morning of admin, we decided to have a quick trip to Phat Luang - the Laos national monument - it’s very bling - huge expanses of gold everywhere (unlike rich neighbour Thailand however, this is just gold paint rather than the real thing) and a massive car park for some reason.

We ended up having to run back to the tuk-tuk after a slight timing error, and Pete had to jump onto a moto to catch up with his bus to the border. It felt sad to see my little brother go. Ollie headed to the docs to get some Asian Wonder Drugs ä followed by a nap, whilst I went to a salon for a quick hair straighten & pedicure. Lovely.

We ended up gassing in our room for hours (I know, no surprise there) that evening, with our repeated ‘we should go out for dinner in a minute’ attempts completely failing until 11.30pm, when we had to resort to a pancake from a street vendor. This was to set the nutritious tone for our next few days - the Journey to the South.

Days 92-96 - In the Tube(ing)

claire_jefferies — Wed, 4 Mar 2009 00:52:00 GMT

Vang Vieng is unique. It’s possibly the weirdest place on earth.

We arrived at about 4pm on the Wednesday - after a stunningly beautiful journey, arriving in Vang Vieng was a bit of a shock.

Cos it reminded me of Blackpool.

On this trip, we’d met very few British people - loads of Aussies, Americans, Irish and every other nation, but relatively few of our own countrymen, until we got to Vang Vieng.

Imagine the scene - Pete & I have arrived, checked into a pretty nice guesthouse, and set out for a bit of an explore. We stopped for a middle class drink (to go with his middle-class wheat allergy) at the Mulberry Farm Organic Café. All very civilised. As Pete’s sipping on his (Organic) Mulberry tea, two absolutely hammered blokes with dreadlocks went steaming down the other side of the road, covered in mud, missing flip-flops & t-shirts, one of them roaring in either agony or ecstasy (I couldn’t work out which) and then both fell over each other as they tried to get into their guesthouse.

And no, it wasn’t Ben & Ollie.

I was pretty sure I was going to hate Vang Vieng, and was absolutely sure Pete would, I’d been fully prepared to be a sanctimonious cow about the place, but we ended up having a brilliant time.

Let me tell you more about it.

Vang Vieng used to be a beauty spot, rarely frequented, with the primary attraction being the beautiful Nam Song river and the surrounding limestone karsts. Lonely Planet then discovered it, and the crowds started coming. One or two smart locals started hiring out tractor inner tubes for tourists to float down the river, then some other locals decided to set up a bar or two along the river. The bars multiplied, to today’s 7 or 8, and then each bar had to come up with its own USP - sometimes a zip wire, sometimes a swing, one bar has a slide, and another has a mud pit.

Now, about 400 people a day float down the river in an inner tube, from bar to bar, playing on the swings, and getting absolutely hammered. The river closes down about 6pm, there’s a couple of hours for a power nap, then the bars on the island in Vang Vieng centre get going.

Before we hit the river, on our first night Pete & I decided to go out for a few gentle beers. Unfortunately I’d forgotten the terrible effect Beer Lao had on me, and got absolutely wasted (put it this way, I stopped drinking at midnight, went to sleep at 3, and was still drunk at 8. That is not NORMAL for me - proof positive it was poisonous)

I’d decided to leave Ben & Ollie some male bonding time, figuring that I’d bump into them over the course of the few days in Laos, but we missed them the first night, instead making lots of new friends - the girls from South Africa who’d been on our minibus from Luang Prabang, Taryn from Scotland who we adopted as a sister, a guy from Southampton we chatted to loads and never knew his name. I then spotted some Irish guys Rox & I had met in Nha Trang, and somehow Pete got involved in singing round the campfire with some other Irish people (I have a dim recollection of Pete starting it too, saying ‘all Irish people do singalongs round the fire’)

We eventually staggered home at 3am after a great first night.

Next morning was a bit of a write off - I had Beer Lao poisoning and was still drunk, Pete had a combination of raging hangover and wheat allergy effects. What a healthy pair.

We managed to head onto the river at about 3.30pm - pretty much the last there. We bumped into Ben & Ollie at the second bar and had a joyful reunion - we were all feeling a little emotional about having been apart. Ollie’s first words were ‘You’re going to be so disappointed in me, tubing is the best thing I’ve EVER done’. And this was before the mud pit and Swedish girls in bikinis. Imagine that.

We hung out with the boys for a while, but Pete & I weren’t on top form after the previous night, so we decided to save ourselves for the next day, when we promised ourselves a full day on the river. We hit the bar on the island again, meeting up with a very upbeat and affectionate Ollie for most of the evening.

Next day dawned - our tubing day!

But hang on - what’s that noise? Surely it couldn’t be……..

RAIN

:-o

First I’d seen since leaving Thailand, and it had to be on the tubing day. It cleared up around 11am, but it was still dull and overcast, but still obviously warm. We headed out to collect our tubes - today I was number 17, yesterday I’d been 304. On the tuk tuk to the tubing point we met 3 Australians - Bec, Jen & John, and 4 Norweigans - Inge, Oystein, Marius & Morten. We resolved that as there were so few of us, we’d all hang out together.

At the first bar, we were joined by three Argentinians - Steffi, Johanna and Damien, and two more Australians - Lachlan and Jesse.

We all hung out together for the day, and it was absolutely brilliant - it was so great to have a big group of us, all going from bar to bar. It was the best day on the river I had - having a few drinks and laughs, having a brilliant time in the mud pit. By the end of the day, we decided that we’d float all the way down the river, thinking that it would only take about an hour. We even stopped at the final bar on the river for an emergency loo stop and an extra beer.

As we all floated down the river, night began to fall pretty rapidly, and soon we were floating in complete darkness. We decided to try and make landfall, and most of us managed it, but we lost a few of the others who continued floating down the river (one of whom was my brother).

We staggered ashore with our tubes, and scrambled up to the main road. After the failure of some hard negotiations with a tuk tuk driver, we figured we had a long walk back to the town (note to self: don’t go too hard in negotiating when you don’t hold any of the cards). The eight or so of us managed to hitch a ride on a pick up truck, arranging to reconvene about half an hour later for dinner and more partying

We all met up again in the evening - it was great to know so many people on a night out - it was kind of like being at home, where you knew loads of people around - not only those from the day on the river, but those we’d met on other nights out. Brilliant day and night. I retired gracefully at about 1.30, leaving Ollie & Pete to cause chaos (‘Some of my best friends are Christian’ and other such beautiful moments) until 3.30am

The following day, Pete & I had rashly decided to book ourselves onto a mountain trek in an effort to see a little more of the surrounding country. We headed off into the countryside, with our first challenge being a very rickety bamboo bridge, with plenty of slats missing. We handled this one pretty confidently, then continued on with our guide. We then trekked through this great cave - we had no torches, just candles. The river flows through here during the wet season, but was non-existent at the moment. We paused for lunch at a cattle station, where our guides rustled up a fantastic lunch - chicken & vegetable kebabs, fried rice and baguette - all cooked on a BBQ. It was fantastic.

After lunch, we trekked up to a waterfall for a quick dip, then had to scramble over the mountain that we’d cut through via the cave earlier. It was on the way down that my foot slipped (due to the previous day’s rain) and I caused myself some serious bruising - I was almost sick from the shock of falling and the pain. I could barely sit down for days and the bruise was MASSIVE.

Ouch.

That night was to be our final in Vang Vieng - the following day we were (literally) shipping out via kayak to the Laotian capital of Vientiane

It was also our last night with Ben - who was heading to Bangkok whilst Ollie and I were heading South, so it felt like a bit of an emotional farewell. After bouncing around to some 90’s club classics on nothing more hardcore than tea, we defied the Laos curfew of midnight, and hung around for the final time. Alas, most of our new friends had already departed, so it wasn’t the crazy last night we’d hoped for.

Despite my reservations, Vang Vieng rocked. I’d expected to find it hideous, and instead it became one of my great travel experiences.

Day 89-92 Luang Prabang - Disney does Laos

claire_jefferies — Wed, 4 Mar 2009 00:17:00 GMT

We decided not to just rely on the delicious cold hamburger for our evening meal, and once we’d found a guesthouse that wasn’t too extortionate, headed out into the town to check out what else we could found.

Luang Prabang is a UNESCO World Heritage City, and has been voted the World’s Best City by a number of travel magazines. This has had a number of impacts on the place, not all of them good in my opinion: 1) it’s obviously become more expensive 2) it’s absolutely full of well-heeled tour groups (I know, how I’ve changed) 3) it has a faint Disneyesque tinge to it - all the signs on shops are uniform and in the same font - it’s almost like a corporate brand team has been in and decided on the Look and Feel ‘OK chaps, we’re going for Helvetica 45 and Pantone 243 all the way through town’

It’s almost like it’s Laos-Lite.

But having said all that, I actually thought Luang Prabang was really beautiful - it just felt a little like the heart of the city was covered over, but it was still there. Perhaps spending more time there would have uncovered it.

Near our (expensive, but lovely) guesthouse was a great local little market - not just a tourist attraction, but full of all different types of stall - from baby clothes to pots & pans, from huge sacks of rice to pigs trotters and tails. It was certainly fragrant.

The night market in Luang Prabang is famed for being the most chilled in South East Asia, with no hassle at all. Part of the market is food related, and naturally this is where we headed. I settle for the ubiquitous spring roll (there is a high probability I will look like one by the time I get home) and Ollie checked out a Mekong river fish, stuffed with lemongrass and grilled on a street barbeque. Even I tried it, and thought that it Wasn’t Too Bad. Which is high praise indeed from me,.

This was washed down with a beer Lao. They serve this is in very practical pint sized bottles. The Lao people are very proud of their beer, and it’s reputed to be some of the finest and purest in the world. Carlsberg recently bought a 50% stake of the company, but what it’s probably most famous for is the sheer number of Beer Lao t-shirts worn by backpackers across South East Asia.

What I found, quite early on, is that Beer Lao makes me very drunk, very quickly. Which is a bit weird really. Cos beer generally doesn’t have that big an effect on me.

After an early night (Luang Prabang has a curfew at 11), we set out on a bit of an explore of the town. Luang Prabang is famed for it’s Wats - there are heaps of them, and most of them are being restored. Laos remains a Communist state (one of only 5 in the world, fact fans), but since opening its borders n the 90s, has become a lot more tolerant of religion. Unfortunately a lot of the skills that monks had - e.g artistry, building restoration etc have been lost, so UNESCO are investing a lot in making sure these skills are being taught to the new generation of monks.

I left Ollie fairly early, to make a quick visit back to the airport, where very excitingly, I was going to pick up my brother - my first visitor from home. It had all been arranged in about a week, and he was due to be with me for about a week before visiting Bangkok on his way back home.

After a bit of a catch up and a sit down, we decided to try and ward off the jet lag by heading up to the Wat Phu Si - after all, what better way to keep yourself away than climbing 165 steps up to a temple? Fortified with a super strong Laotian coffee, we positively bounded up to the temple, which afforded great views of the city and over the Mekong river. Much to my delight, it had the classic Buddhist fortune telling - asking Buddha a question, shaking the sticks in a pot until one falls out, then picking the sheet of paper with the right number on it. I convinced Mr ’I’m neither superstitious, or religious Claire, so what would be the point’ Vickers-Price to have a go.

Foiled. All the fortunes were written in Laos script.

After the temple, the three of us had a wander round the town again, pausing for another super strong coffee and a cake, eaten perched on some packing crates in the market area. We made friends with a local kid and his dog, who both seemed greatly amused by us, then headed off for a massage.

Laos massage is not as good as Thai massage, but is better than Khmer massage. Vietnamese massage is quite good, but my studies in Vietnam were not ass extensive, so the sample isn’t representative (one massage in Vietnam! In 3 weeks!!)

We headed down to the riverfront for dinner, to try out some local foods cooked by a great lady. Unfortunately, the buffalo was off the menu, but Pete’s chicken with basil was great. We did get the lovely lady to translate our fortunes though - apparently Ollie got the luckiest number there is. Shame he doesn’t believe in it really J

The next day, Ollie left to head down to Ben in Vang Vieng. We got up early to check out the alms giving to the monks, but managed to miss it anyway. Drat.

Pete and I headed out on a boat trip down the Mekong to the Pak Ou caves. Whilst thee boat trip itself was interesting, the caves, to be honest, were a bit of an anticlimax - I’ve seen waaaaay better. Disney Laos needed to try harder on this one.

After arriving back at Luang Prabang, we treated ourselves to another massage. This time it was a Khmu massage (from one of the Northern tribes in Laos) and it was brilliant - it was a cross between an oil massage and a Thai massage, and it was possibly the best one I’ve had. Praise indeed from a girl who’s never knowingly under massaged.

For dinner, we headed to a great little place called Tamarind. It’s owned by an Australian woman & her Laotian husband, and is a great example of a restaurant that goes beyond the usual ‘Fried rice, fried noodle, banana pancake, cheeseburger’ menu.

We ordered a couple of tasting plates - a pot of sticky rice with a selection of dips and sauces, and a plate of local specialities - Mekong seaweed, buffalo, Laos sausage etc. To accompany, they did some great cocktails too - lemongrass & lime granita, pineapple & ginger crush etc. Delicious. AND we were super lucky to be served - they actually close at 6, and we didn’t get there til about 7, but they must have liked our faces, cos they served us whilst turning other people away.

The next day, we were in our minibus heading down to Vang Vieng. The faithful Lonely Planet had said the scenery on this journey was amazing, and for once, they weren’t exaggerating. It was absolutely stunning - I fell head over heels for Laos on this journey. Huge limestone cliffs, hairpin roads, tiny villages, huge forested areas. Knocked the socks off Vietnam.

Days 86-89 Sapa. Or is it Switzerland?

claire_jefferies — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 15:28:00 GMT

Ollie and I decided to do a bit of a mission up to the mountains of Vietnam, close to the Chinese border. Originally we planned to do a remote border crossing into Northern Laos, then travel down to Luang Prabang from there. When we actually looked into it though, we discovered there were only 3 buses a week, and it would take us 5 days to do rather than the 2 we actually had.

Oops.

Undeterred, we replanned (see, I can do spontaneity and stuff) our trip, still making it to Sapa, but returning to Hanoi afterwards and (whisper) flying onto Luang Prabang (see, I’ve turned Ollie into a Flashpacker now)

This was my first overnight sleeper train. We got to Hanoi North station ready for the 9 hour trip to Lao Cai. We’d managed to get sleeper berths for the journey up there, and after a bit of a gossip, we managed to get a great night’s sleep before arriving in Lao Cai at about 8.00 am - very civilised.

We thought we’d best book our return ticket straightaway, as we needed to come back on the Sunday - which was the last day of the 5 day New Year holiday (hence the trains were rammed). Unfortunately we could only book onto an attractively named ‘Hard Seat’. Hmmm.

We jumped onto a local minibus up to Sapa - the journey was absolutely amazing, and I could already feel my jaded spirits being restored - first off: it was actually SUNNY, the mist and clouds were rising over amazing paddy fields that were terracing up the hillsides and for the first time, I was in love with Vietnam.

We found ourselves a guesthouse which had a great roof terrace from where you could see Fansipan - the highest mountain in Vietnam. The whole area had a real Alpine feel to it - it felt like I could have been in Switzerland.

We decided to go for a bit of an explore. Peeling off the layers for the first time in days, we followed our noses into a local village, stumbling across a few cows and dogs, until we found a handy ledge with a sheer drop overlooking the mountains and valley. Absolutely gorgeous.

We paused there for a while for a chat (yes Ben, it was yet another personal conversation, cos that’s how we roll) and managed to get sunburnt in the process. Beautiful. But I was so glad to feel warm, I didn’t care that I looked like Rudolph’s two-legged sister.

Later that afternoon, we decided to have a bit of an adventure, and head out on a moto to a local waterfall. Neither of us had ever ridden one before, but we were unfazed. Until Ollie actually tried to ride one, and promptly had to do an emergency stop with the use of his feet to prevent driving into the back of a parked van (I feel I assisted in preventing the collision by putting my hands over my eyes).

After a couple of attempts (“Sir, sir, we drive on the right here” “I know, I just can’t steer it”), we decided to have a go at him riding with me on the back. Ollie was terrified he was going to break me, and I had a couple of slight concerns myself, so we decided to do the sensible thing and have a little practice - we’d just go to the top of the road, then turn round and head back.

We start off, slightly wobbly, get to the top of the road…..

….and carry straight on. Well. We hadn’t fallen off, so we figured we may as well continue.

It turned out to be a great afternoon - Ollie quickly got the hang of riding the moto, and we soon covered the 15km up to the Silver waterfall. I had my photo taken by some Chinese tourists (“Look! She’s so white! And look at that hair! I can’t believe someone would go out like that - quick, take a picture!”) and we had a scramble up to the waterfall. After stopping for a quick snack (unidentified meat & local tea) we decided to press on to a national park, which had the impressively named ‘Golden Dream’ waterfall.

We made it to the park, and took a walk down the trail, looking for tigers (there aren’t actually any there, but you NEVER KNOW). I began to have a bit of trouble breathing - I was pretty shocked that I’d managed to lose ALL my fitness within a couple of months. We failed to find the Golden Dream waterfall though. But we did have a lovely sing song to some Cure songs instead.

Jumping back on the moto, we started to head back down to Sapa, needing to hurry before the sun set and the cold really kicked in. Ollie felt that the bike didn’t feel quite right, but we pressed on until a passing moto passenger started pointing at our back wheel. Yup. You guessed it. Puncture. And we’re about 20km from Sapa and at least 6km to the nearest village.

Drat.

We started pushing the bike (the royal we - clearly I’m a girl and therefore carried the helmets) down the hill, when a friendly moto rider stopped to help us. Whilst he struggled to get the wheel off, Ollie hovered in a manly fashion and I ate tangerines with the moto rider’s girlfriend. For some reason, our tyre wouldn’t come off, so another guy was flagged down who then put a call in to what we assumed was a local garage.

Our friendly helpers drove off, leaving the two of us waiting optimistically by the side of the road. Our stoicism remained - yes, the sun had set and it was absolutely freezing, but we were convinced help wa on the way.

And it was. Our knights in shining armour (on a bright pink moto to be precise) appeared, and managed to fix our tyre - yippee!!

We then had to make it down to Sapa in the twilight. To keep us going, and to keep us warm, we decide to alarm the villagers by having a sing song. I think our version of Wonderwall was particularly tuneful, as was Pulp’s ‘Sorted for E’s and Whizz’ and we managed to rock out (whilst on a moving moto) to Muse’s Knights of Cydonia. We provided huge amounts of entertainment to the locals.

We treated ourselves that night to a proper dinner and a bottle of red wine (I appreciate that wine is appearing a lot in this blog recently - but it’s a BIG DEAL to me) in a restaurant that looked like a Swiss Stube, with a huge log fire and ‘Take me home country roads’ and ’California Dreamin’ on repeat play, which all felt slightly bizarre.

I just couldn’t get warm, and the cause of my breathing difficulties earlier became clear - I was coming down with a chronic cold - my throat felt so swollen, I could barely drink my wine (I soldiered on though). I wasn’t too hopeful about the chances of me trekking the following day.

Next morning, I still felt pretty dire, but I trotted to the pharmacy and got some Asian Wonder Drugs ä and some Strepsils. A couple of pills later I felt a million times better - god knows what was in them, but they were GREAT.

We met our trekking guide - a local Hmong girl who was hilarious (and very small - I kept standing next to her to make myself feel tall for once in my life). Unfortunately we had a bit of a cloudy day, but the valleys were beautiful, and it was amazing to see the ingenuity of the rice paddies - the way the water flows between the terraces to prevent stagnation. The trek was pretty busy - it didn’t really feel like we were off the beaten track, but I did love Sapa. Probably my favourite place in the whole of Vietnam.

On the trek I was also introduced to two great tracks which will always remind me of that trip - Sigur Ros’ Hoppipolla and Sufjan Stevens’ Chicago. Both fantastic, and it was a great travelling moment listening to Hoppipolla watching life go on in a tiny rural village, knowing that whatever our Western, capitalist, self-indulgent issues are, life here will always go on in much the same way.

That my friends, gives you perspective. Something I’m gaining more of every day.

We headed back down the mountain to Lao Cai, ready for our Hard Seat back to Hanoi. After whiling away some time in a café, we jumped onto the train. Hmmm. Hard Seat really does mean hard seat - a beautiful wooden bench with a window that helpfully doesn’t close. In classic style, the aisle was also filled with fellow passengers on plastic stools.

Gamely trying to convince ourselves that this would be a Great Travel Experience, we settled down for the journey. And shifted positions. And tried another one. And hunched over double. And leant against each other. And had many head lolling moments. Until 5 hours in, Ollie had a (small) strop and decided to sleep on the floor. Amazingly he crashed out, only waking when the tea trolley ran him over at about 4.30am.

By the time we arrived in Hanoi, we were both knackered, and it’s amazing we (OK, ok, I) didn’t have a complete tantrum - especially as we couldn’t even crash out for a couple of hours. Undeterred, we returned to our previous hostel, dumped our bags for a few hours, had some brekkie and set out to ’Do’ Hanoi properly, now everything had reopened.

It’s actually a really great City - the old quarter is great, loads of French Colonial architecture, and what they call ’Tube Houses’ (although I wasn’t sure why). I impressed Ollie with my knowledge of various sites and temples (Ollie: “I know you were getting it from Lonely Planet and weren’t just clever”. Foiled.)

After a final hair straighten (just me, not Ollie) we headed for the airport for our luxury flight to Luang Prabang. My first time on a propellor plane. The onboard cuisine was typically Laos - ummmm a cold beef burger. An interesting introduction to the famed Laotian specialities…..

Days 81-85 - Hue & Hanoi - Chuc Mung Nam Moi!

claire_jefferies — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 15:23:00 GMT

(What is it with Vietnam and the letter H? It feels like every city has to begin with an H: Ho Chi Minh, Hoi An, Hue, Hanoi - you’d think they could have been a little more creative)

Hue was just a short (4 hour) bus ride from Hoi An, so it meant no overnight bus - yay! Although we did have a slight panic when the boys didn’t appear for the bus until Rox hammered on their door to wake them…..

All the partying of the previous week in Nha Trang and Hoi An caught the others up, so they headed off for a nap whilst I headed off to explore the old city. Hue is known as the most cultured city in Vietnam - it has 5 universities, and was once the Imperial capital. For some reason, I’d had it in my head that it would be a place along the lines of Hoi An

It wasn’t.

Hue is actually Vietnam’s 5^th biggest city, and has the noise & traffic to match. I headed off to the Citadel, checking out all the new year preparations on the way - huge festivities were being planned and it was great to see stages being set up, and fireworks being prepared.

The Citadel was pretty ruined - Hue suffered huge amounts of damage during the American War, with the city ending up lying in ruins after the Tet Offensive in 1968, so it’s amazing that the Citadel is as intact as it is. The Old city was the home of the Vietnamese Emperors and there is a display of old costumes inside that were absolutely beautiful.

Later that afternoon, Ollie & I went on a mission to try and book onto a trip to see the old American War sites and to book up our next, and final, overnight bus.

On our way back, we were invited to join some Vietnamese people for a beer and some food to help them celebrate New Year - it’s tradition on the last working day of the year for workers to share a meal together, and these guys invited us to join them - sitting on a plastic stool on the street, drinking beer with ice and eating chicken and rice with people who just wanted us to help them celebrate will be one of my favourite memories of Vietnam I think - they taught us to shout Happy New Year in Vietnamese: Chuc Mung Nam Moi!

Next day we went on our trip around the De-Militarised Zone (DMZ). If anything was ever misnamed, this was it.

After the division of Vietnam into North & South in the late 1940s, the demilitarised zone was set up to prevent tensions between the two nations.

It became perhaps the most bombed & napalmed territory in the whole of Vietnam.

The tour itself was a long day, but as I’d been reading something of the history of the war in an effort to understand the country more, I was interested to see some of the sites. We saw the start of the Ho Chi Minh Trail - the 13,000 km network of roads & tracks that enabled the Vietcong to move artillery and personnel down the country (contrary to my belief, the trail wasn’t a single track, but a huge network of paths, trails and carefully concealed caves - bridges were built of bamboo & sunk each night to avoid detection, tree branches were tied together to hide roads - a phenomenal achievement - they even laid an oil pipeline down there)

We also saw one of the US ’Firebases’ - a hill in the middle of mainly flat land, where the US Army created a camp on top & sent helicopters out on reconnaissance & bombing missions - a recognisable feature of many Vietnam War Movies. Obviously we accompanied this with the Stones' "Gimme Shelter".

On our journey, we passed through rice fields with enormous ‘ponds’ - B52 bomb craters that farmers have turned into fish ponds. There’s still a huge amount of unexploded ordinance within Vietnam, so it’s important not to stray off the beaten track.

We also went to the site of the battle of Khe Sanh - one of the major turning points in the war - it’s a desolate plateau, where 5000 American Marines were surrounded by 30,000 Vietcong, and the ensuing siege lasted over 90 days. It was somewhat sobering to see a place where so many lost their lives.

Equally awe-inspiring was the Vinh Minh tunnels - a series of tunnels, like the Cu Chi tunnels in Saigon, designed to hide Vietnamese from American attack. The difference in these tunnels was that it was civilians who lived in here - 13 km of tunnels were built on varying levels - there were maternity units in there - babies who were born there didn’t live outside for 6 years, and saw sunlight for a carefully guarded 1 hour per day.

Amazing what the human spirit can achieve.

Hue saw the end of our run of good weather - we toured the DMZ in the rain, and once we hit Hanoi……

……it was FREEZING!!!

Hanoi is supposed to be about 20 degrees in January, but it can be heavily effected by freezing cold winds coming down from China, so it ended up being 12 degrees (Now I know that this is nothing compared to the snows & -5 degree temperatures being experienced in the UK, but we HAD just come from 30 degree heat, and I had NO warm clothes, so I deserve a shred of sympathy, surely?)

Ben & I were thoroughly miserable with the cold - I attempted an emergency shop for some warm clothes, but we came up against Tet - the Vietnamese New Year meant that EVERYTHING closed down for 5 whole days. It did make life pretty difficult.

I don’t feel I got to know Hanoi well at all - the heart of a city is different when everything shuts down, so I never really got a feel for the place.

Whilst in Hanoi, we took an overnight trip to Halong Bay - one of the UNESCO natural wonders - it’s a bay full of 1,969 rock formations - huge limestone cliffs, and is pretty awe inspiring. Local legend has it that a local dragon got angry one day and spat fire into the sea - where the fire drops landed, the islands were created.

Halong Bay was certainly beautiful, but for me, the cold affected my enjoyment of it which was disappointing.

Hanoi also saw the first break up of our group, and I think that also affected my mood - on the 28^th, Roxane left for Singapore, and Ben left for the overnight bus to Vientiane in Laos. Ollie and I were staying behind for a quick jaunt up into the hills. After a month of travelling together, and being in each others’ company for about 15 hours a day, it was really hard to say goodbye.

Roxane and I celebrated her birthday a few days early by treating ourselves to lunch at a great French Bistro (Steak! Blue Cheese! Wine! Imagine THAT!) while the boys went to the Snake Farm to drink blood and bile and other such vile things.

Our last night as a foursome wasn’t really spent as a unit - Rox and I managed to get separated from the boys and spent most of the evening with some people we’d met on the Halong Bay boat. After some frantic texting and chasing around Hanoi, we eventually managed to meet up with the boys for a final photo. Ahhhh.

Day 78-80 - Tailoring, Wontons & Fresh Beer

claire_jefferies — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 15:22:00 GMT

The main reason you head to Hoi An is the tailoring, and who were we to be any different? Hoi An is absolutely FULL of tailor shops who can run up anything you like in a matter of hours. With the thought of trying to close my ever expanding backpack in mind, I managed to restrict myself to a few items - a couple of things for work, and a couple of things for the rest of my trip. Ben got his first ever suit tailored - ahhhh.

Hoi An itself though is much more than just a town full of tailors - it’s a beautiful old city that has just been named a UNESCO world heritage site. It combines French colonialist architecture with a heavy Chinese influence, and the effect is really quite beautiful. It’s one of the rare places in Vietnam where you don’t take your life into your hands crossing the road - it’s much quieter than the big cities.

The waterfront is particularly beautiful - with elegantly decaying old buildings, a lovely produce market and some great street food stalls. Hoi An is famous for a number of local specialities, which obviously we didn’t hesitate to try out - I became a big fan of the chicken wonton, and the others fell in love with a ‘roll your own pancake’ dish - rice flour pancakes, omelette, prawns, greenery and a hot & spicy sauce.

Hoi An also introduced us to the concept of Fresh Beer. In Vietnam, as well as the bottled beers, plenty of ‘Bier Hoi’ bars exist: these places brew a vat of beer each day, and it all has to be sold within 24 hours. They sell the beer at 16p per glass. Well, it would have been rude not to try it, and we were enjoying a Vietnamese cultural experience.

Slightly less classically Vietnamese was King Kong Bar’s ‘free rum & coke between 10 & 11’ promotion. But we like to enjoy a cultural mix. King Kong Bar is a dive. Seriously - it’s basically a concrete room, with a pool table in the middle, with graffiti all over the wall - but somehow it works. We mistakenly arrived there early - and we were literally the only ones in there - until 2 minutes to 10, when suddenly 400,000 Australians appeared (or so it seemed)

I especially had a great time on the second night, when Roxane & I created an ‘Hoi An emergency’ play list on my ipod and we got that playing for an hour or so - it was great to be dancing on the pool table, knowing that each next song was going to be a great one, cos we’d chosen it (far better than the diabolical Swedish euro-pop of the night before)

I really loved Hoi An - it was the first place in Vietnam that I could really feel a pull for - a beautiful small town with a slower pace of life and friendly people.

http://picasaweb.google.com/Clairestravels/VietnamHoiAn#

A tribute to Vietnamese Coffee

claire_jefferies — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 15:20:00 GMT

Vietnam didn’t touch me in the way that Cambodia did - apart from in one area.

The coffee

We were first introduced to this wonderous beverage in Phu Quoc, when after a bleary eyed journey on the ferry we paused for a refreshment stop before finding a place to stay.

The coffee came, espresso style, with metal pot on top of a glass, and the glass had a thin layer of condensed milk. Vietnamese coffee is like a shot of pure caffeine with the added advantage of sweet condensed milk goodness. I truly thought there could be nothing finer.

Until I came across the ICED version in Saigon.

We had our coffee lady who had a stall just outside our guesthouse, and each morning we would grab ourselves a shot of amazing goodness, served over ice, for a bargain price of 30p.

Starbucks? They're dead to me (Well, until I get back to the UK at least)