Ben and Angie Wanderings

Photos: Bolivia

hootons — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 11:32:00 GMT

Photos: Machu Picchu

hootons — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 11:31:00 GMT

Photos: Peru

hootons — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 11:28:00 GMT

Photos: New Zealand North Island

hootons — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 11:16:00 GMT

Photos: New Zealand South Island

hootons — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 11:15:00 GMT

Photos: Australia

hootons — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 09:11:00 GMT

Photos: Bali the Second

hootons — Mon, 5 Dec 2011 07:38:00 GMT

Photos: Bali The First and Lombok

hootons — Mon, 5 Dec 2011 07:23:00 GMT

Bali to Lombok and back again to Bali

hootons — Mon, 5 Dec 2011 07:09:00 GMT

Our start to Bali wasn’t the best. After the Indonesian budget airline lost Angie’s luggage (they sent it to the wrong country apparently) we were stuck in Kuta, the tacky tourist capital crawling with drunken Aussie Surf dudes, waiting (not too patiently) for the call to say they had found it. It was at this time that Ben came down with a strange nasty bug just to top it all off.

On the third day, rapidly running out of time for the last bus and after several frustrating telephone calls with the airline, Angie’s bag arrived via a little man on a motorbike and we ran for the bus out of there hoping to escape the madness. Our destination was a town on the east coast where we hoped to catch the ferry to Lombok. Now both feeling pretty rough with this strange bug it was an uncomfortable long winding journey in a battered little bus packed to the top.

Feeling a bit down on Bali we were pleasantly greeted by the small town of Padangbai Our homestay was amazing, a intricately carved detached room with a HOT shower and delicious banana filled jaffels for breakfast which, after months of egg in every different form you can think of for breakfast, it was a very welcome change.

Our stay in Padangbai wasn’t long as we had already booked the ferry over to Lombok. Our 9am ferry finally left at 11:30. The tourist passengers were then herded into small minibuses on the other side and taken to several different destinations. Ours was Senggigi. Here we finally gave in and went to see the local doctor who we found lazing around in the sun with his colleague. The consultation fee started off at a bit out of our budget but he took pity on us and wavered the consultation fee as long as we could pay for the medication. Now armed with antibiotics, our strange bug had no chance and was last seen leaving via the rear.

Determined that we would not miss out on our last few weeks on asia Ben went off hunting for motorbike deal ready for a three day tour of Lombok.

Our first stop on our new adventure was McDonalds. This may sound sacrilege but by this point a comfort food treat was very tempting. Plus it was Ramadan and we were in a Muslim country, so it was the only place we could find open for lunch as we set off on our journey. Filled up on Maccy D goodness we then set off for our first day looking at temples, powering down dirt tracks, through tiny villages and finally arriving at Tetebatu, a small town set at the foot of a huge volcano and surrounded by lush green paddy fields.

Angie fell in love with the homestay we stayed in. Small individually designed huts with mini paddy fields for gardens and breakfast with a volcano view (not to mention Gun, a very funny and most welcoming host). In Tetebatu many people take tours to climb to the top of the volcano but still recovering from our sickness we decided a small walk to a waterfall was possibly a more manageable trek.

Having soaked up some highland coolness we set off for the Lombok surf town also known as Kuta. Famed for being the place where you might get your bike nicked we were a little worried but fortunately it turned out ok.

It was here that Ben took a surf lesson, I’ll let him explain.. One of the worst decisions of the trip, I decided to grab a cheap surf lessons in Kuta. The first person said as a beginner it’d be best to go to the beach with hardly any waves, just get a feel for it. The second bloke, a smiley 22 year old Lombok local beach bum with a way with words said that wouldn’t be worth it and we should get a boat out to the decent waves. So I made the wrong choice. I spent about an hour out in the middle of the sea getting absolutely battered by the biggest waves I’ve ever seen (no exaggeration) in a depth where I couldn’t at any point touch the floor. The only ‘coaching’ I got was ‘This is a good wave’ and he gave me a push as it picked me up, rolled me over and spat me crashing into the blue. I think I’m a fairly strong swimmer now but I was exhausted after about five efforts of paddling back to him, through the crazy waves, only to come crashing down again. It was supposed to be a four hour session, I gave in early and I’d say it was the only time this trip I’ve felt completely out of my comfort zone. Should have gone with the tried and trusted Aussies in Bali.

So, we then headed back to Senggigi, ready to start the trip over to the Gili Islands. These islands are famed for their amazing scuba adventures and great social scene. There are three islands in total varying from ultra laid back to party central. We opted for the party island seeing as it was Ramadan, as we hoped that it would still have a bit of life to it. Despite being a bit quiet it was still a really beautiful relaxed island with some cool little eateries and bars. There was one very special bar slightly further away from the others on a beach on its own. Everyone went there to watch the sun set, listening to reggae and waiting for the bonfire to be set alight and the fire dancers to get into gear. While on the island we also took the opportunity for our last bit of scuba diving. This time we tried a night dive, which was a very bizarre experience as it’s pitch black down there apart from where you shine your torch. At times it’s hard to tell which way is up.

After our whirlwind tour of Lombok and the Gili islands we headed back to Bali. We headed towards Ubud which is known to be the cultural centre of Bali. It was still quite a tourist centre but nothing close to Kuta beach and we loved feel of the place. Bursting with art and music, every day there seemed to be some sort of colorful celebration, and this combined with Bali’s very unique take on religion, the place felt like no other we have visited. The first thing we did was book ourselves onto one of the many craft courses available, Ben went on a woodwork course and Angie took a silversmith course.

We had plans to take a motorbike and visit many other places around Bali but having heard of a celebration/cremation going on we decided to hang about. It turned out that the kings wife had passed away and that the cremation was set to happen in Ubud in a couple of days. We extended our stay to make sure that we didn’t miss this and were very glad we took the gample. On the days leading up to the cremation the palace put on free dance shows for people. Balanise dance is something very otherworldly with vibrant big costumes, subtle movements and ‘eye bulging’ being a major dance move.

On the day of the cremation Ubud was brimming with people, both tourists and Balinese people. It started early with many rituals and holy men blessing the huge tower and bull that had been constructed for the procession. The procession set off at about midday in the blazing heat of the sun. Local men had to carry the tall tower which was now holding the coffin of the kings wife. The enormous bull was also carried along the street by local men followed by musicians and other processional things. They were so heavy that it took hours to carry along the street with the local men taking it in turns to carry them. At around 5pm they arrived at the cremation site where the kings wife was transferred into the bull which was then set alight. Words really can’t describe the day properly butwe took plenty of photos, hundreds actually, Ben got a bit over excited, but then it was a special day.

We had time after the cremation to visit one last place before we needed to set off for Australia. Having not been well enough to climb the volcano in Lombok we decided to give Bali’s volcano a go. We drove on our rented motorbike to the town of Sukawana (we think..) and, hearing that it was possible to visit the volcano without a guide and easier if you drive up half of it, we gave it a shot on our rented bike. Perhaps Evel Knievel could have managed it on our scooter but for us the skiddy volcanic ash and huge boulders along the way put an end to that idea. So we head back to town and after a bit of hassle from local tour groups/guides we arranged our trek for the next day at a bargain price. Setting off at 4am in the morning in order to reach the top for sun rise it was a steep climb up and genuinely ultra tough. However, when the first light came we found we’d climbed above the clouds and the views for the sunrise were just amazing. Plus we got a breakfast of banana and egg cooked in the volcanic steam which was truly welcome. The volcano had not been active for some time but it was still good to check out some of the old craters. Our guide took us further to check out other areas and it was probably best that Angie was too tired to care about the sheer drop to her left when walking along an extremely thin path around the crater’s edge.

So, skipping a few ordinary bits here and there, we headed back to Kuta and said goodbye to our South East Asia (and a splash of Indonesia) adventure. We were looking forward to a few of the comforts of western culture but in truth thoroughly gutted that this crazy and amazing neck of the woods would soon be behind us. We’ll be back, that’s an official blog promise.

Photos: Derawan and The Great Boat Trip

hootons — Sun, 16 Oct 2011 01:46:00 GMT

Derawan Island and The Great Boat Trip

hootons — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 15:35:00 GMT

The crossover from Malaysian Borneo to Indonesian Borneo happened to be by ferry. The two countries are part of the same land mass but as we stepped off our boat, herded along with a noisy throng of bustling locals, it felt like we were arriving in a different world.

Kalimantan is a much poorer country than Sabah and doesn’t come with all the visitor conveniences and the ease of movement. What it does come with however, is bags of character and we instantly felt that exhilarating sense of being pleasantly out of our comfort zone.

As we’re so far behind on our blog (almost 3 months or something ridiculous) I’d like to just get to the point and concentrate on one day, the number one contender for best day of our trip. I’d like to, but I guess I should quickly fill in a bit of story to get us there..

We wanted to go to Derewan Island, off the east coast of Kalimantan, and had been working at getting other travelers involved in order to manage this. To cut a long story short we had managed to arrange a speedboat to take us and a girl called Yanna, an ice cool but friendly Czechoslovakian lone traveler who we met on the ferry. So, shortly after dawn one morning we were driven in a beat up bemo van to a pier where we jumped on board a tiny speed boat with two locals who we had never met and sped off like we had just been recruited to the A-Team.

At first it was a rush of adrenaline pounding off in a chartered boat to some distant paradise island, but as we bounced off the choppy waters, each slap of the concrete like benches we were sat on compressed our spines and we realized that three hours of this ride wasn’t going to be much fun. Our knuckles were white from clinging on and our bottoms were red from the spanking and even the driver stopped now and again to reposition the boat’s only lifejacket he was using as a cushion under him.

It was a horrible journey but boy was it worth it. As we finally slowed down, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, a perfect circle of green and yellow had appeared on the horizon
.

Derewan Island is my favorite place in the world. An island that you can walk right around in an hour, inhabited by the most friendly, laid back people we have had the pleasure of coming across. The beaches are golden and you can swim out in almost any direction and bosh! you’ve found a coral reef teeming with sea life.

The place we were staying at, the Losman Danakan Homestay, had a pier of its own that stretched right out to the edge of the coral. We could walk to the end of our place, spot one of the many huge sea turtles and just jump in for a snorkel with them before heading further out to dive into the reef. The water was like a warm bath and so buoyant that you didn’t even need to tread water, you could just float there and watch the underwater world swim by. In town we just wandered around greeting locals and eating freshly caught and barbequed delicious fish in a sunny daze.

In short it was the closest thing to paradise we’ve seen, such a simple happy life these people are living and we realized quickly that the 2-3 day time scale we gave ourselves was going to be scrapped. If they only had cash points or internet or banks there I’m not sure Bali or Lombok would have happened.

People here take it really easy. Angie was always in stitches with the super friendly, ever so slowly moving workman who was ‘fixing’ one of the rooms near to us. First he would pass with a single screw in his hand, gave a gentle nod to us as he happily made his way to his place of work. Ten minutes later he would pass again and reappear from the main house with a screwdriver, ready to take the long sunny walk down the pier to apply it to his last load. This would happen all day and the room he was working on didn’t seem to change a bit the entire time we were there.

But anyway.. In between enjoying this amazing community we were trying to organize another speedboat to take us for a day trip to some other islands, even further away from the mainland. Day after day we had something organized but woke up to be told that the sea was too rough away from the Island, even though it was flat calm where we were.

One night a group of eleven French people arrived back from a trip, and with only around eight other travelers on the island this seemed a big event. A Danish couple who we got on really well with had got talking to them and learned that they had hired a fishing boat for three days and had slept on the boat at night. By this point we were gagging to get to the other islands and ‘Plan B’, as we called it sounded like a good adventure as a fishing boat would be able to go out on more choppy waters.

Together we approached the captain of the fishing boat and, with the help of one of the Frenchies translating for us, managed to organize a two day trip to our islands. Sadly when we spoke to him the very next day he decided he was knackered and wanted to relax at home instead, Arg. In desperation we found another random fisherman who, as far as we could tell from the tiny scrap of Indonesian we were using to communicate, was up for taking us on our adventure, Joy.

We spent the next day with our fellow boat trip travelers; Mess, Amily and Yanna, wandering around the Island looking for supplies to last us the two days at sea. With options pretty limited we ended up with lots of eggs, rice, noodles, two gallons of water (getting this water was an adventure in itself but that’s for another day), five bottles of the most expensive beer ever (with only one villager keeping beer she could charge what she liked), fishing wire and hooks and a fresh but smelly fish which we were assured would coax out bigger catches on our trip.

I spent the night before the big day waking up to the sound of crashing waves and angry storms and felt that the morning would bring more bad news. Happily though everything came together and the best day of our trip started with a home made coconut doe nut type thing from our hosts, a perfectly calm sea and the news that we were most worried about, our new captain had turned up with a boat and was waiting at the end of our pier.

We were all so bubbling with excitement as we loaded our supplies onto the ship that none of us questioned the sea worthiness of our rusty nail and dodgy scraps of wood creation with a roof made of old rice bags. We had our ship, the sun was shining and the five of us set off with our new captain and his assistant friend in top spirits.

We gathered in the middle of the boat to toast our good fortunes but soon the sound of the clunky old diesel engine was so aggressive we all moved to the tip of the boat with wide smiles as we made ourselves comfortable on pillows borrowed from the homestay. That first 2-3 hour simple journey was a euphoric time, blue skies, cooling breeze and good company.

We approached the first island of our trip slightly confused. We had come to stop at this beautiful circle of dense green around 20 meters from the wooden jetty and the waves here were much more choppy. The captain and his friend spoke only a few words of English and our Indonesian was similar but we finally figured out that the tide was too low and they wouldn’t be able to get closer. The boat was rocking as we threw on flippers and snorkel gear and jumped into the sea to swim for shore, passing over a huge coral reef, again filled with slippery little beasts.

We took the walkway to the center of the island and eventually the bush opened up to a huge beautiful flat calm lake which we had first found out about on the ferry to Kalimantan. By freak of nature and a lack of natural predators, jellyfish have evolved in this lake to have no sting. This meant you could jump in and snorkel with thousands and thousands of these alien like creatures in complete safety.

At first it was really strange to touch one; the texture, the way it reacted to your touch, but soon we were pinging them about to each other and diving down to touch the bigger, translucent ones. At certain points in the lake it was like you were swimming in jellyfish, not water, it was so dense in there. With the volumetric light flowing from above and the absolute silence once our ears were under the water it was one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

When we made it back to the boat our captain had boiled up a kettle of tea and we ate the lunch boxes provided by our homestay, a rice and cold fish concoction. Next we jumped back in the sea to snorkel around the coral reef that circled the entire island. The reef dropped more than fifty meters below us, forming a wall of sea life that we could explore.

Next we headed off to the second island, where we planned to spend the night. On the way we got out our fishing hooks and wire. The captain spotted us fumbling around and took over, untangling the mess and creating a kind of fishing rod out of an empty water bottle.

As we were approaching the second perfect circle of island paradise a cry came up from the captain and the boat turned sharply to the right. ‘Manta! Manta!’

I’ll never forget that cry or the glee with which it was executed. Manta rays were very rare at that time of the year and we had heard that the Frenchies had never spotted them

in many trips to the islands.

We pulled up fairly close to these huge sea beasts as they were close to the surface and frantically got our snorkel gear on with the captain shouting go! go! go! keeping his arm pointing in the direction we needed to take. The first time we jumped in with such ferocity and made such a noise that the manta were scared away and slipped down deep into the ocean below. We scrambled back into the boat and the captain set about tracking them down for another attempt. The second time we lost sight of them and, each of us swimming off in different directions, they slipped away easily.

The third time was very special. All five of us had managed to get into the water and follow the finger of the captain. We all somehow made it right up to one of these amazing elegant stealth bombers of the sea and floated in a semicircle as it slowly turned and rose and fell in the water for what seemed like five minutes but what was probably twenty seconds. An incredible sight made all the more special due to the excitement and unexpected nature of the find. We spent some time searching around the waters, hearing the ‘Manta!’ and bombing in with varying success. It was great fun and it seemed like the captain was enjoying the hunt as much as we were as we had to ask him to give up and crack on with the next part of our day.

The final island was the most beautiful of the lot and I’m running out of superlatives to describe them all, but yeah, not a bad spot. This time we could come right up to the pier and as we headed towards the beach a man came from the bush and walked towards us like he was expecting us, I guess he was watching our ray search. A friendly Indonesian bloke, I can’t remember his name but he was the ranger of the Island and looked after the sea turtles that visited.

This was a tiny island that for some reason the turtles from miles around had chosen as the spot to always lay their eggs. These were turtles with good taste. With only the ranger, a handful of helpers and ourselves on the island it felt a privilege to be greeted and given a tour of the preservation operation. That night we were invited to join the ranger on his circuit of the island and by moonlight we wandered around watching turtles digging holes, helping the ones who were stuck in tight spots and checking that eggs were laid in spots that were not easily accessible to predators.

At the end of our circuit the ranger brought out a bucket of tiny scrambling freshly hatched baby turtles, a blurry flurry of little legs trying to swim out to the sea. At only around 20cm long they were far more powerful than they looked and struggled in our hands, until we laid them down on the sand a few feet from the sea. The five of us lined them up, counted to three and let them off like a race but the silly buggers ran off in random directions, and sometimes circled back on themselves so we had to intervene and more or less chuck them into the sea. No wonder the turtles needed help round here.

And so our long old day was nearly at an end and we cooked up some rice and cracked open a beer on board what was going to be our bed for the night. Then the most annoying pests to twitch their ugly little heads throughout our entire journey crawled out of the woodwork and scuttered through our rubbish, our food and over our feet. I hate cockroaches. At least when you’ve got rats they keep themselves to themselves and generally fear you. Not cockroaches, they just don’t care.

We put up with them for a while, still buzzing from our days adventure, but the final straw for me came when I went to have a sip from my beaker of beer only to have me nose tickled by the twitching antennae of a drowning roach. We were really looking forward to sleeping on a boat with the stars as our ceiling but decided to try other options. The beach was looking inviting until we realized that the crabs were out in force so we headed back to the hut where the ranger and his helpers slept. Thankfully they were really welcoming and we set up bed on the floor with a fresh cup of tea and let the tiredness take over to drop us into deep slumber.

I awoke in the middle of the night to the dripping of the hole in the roof above us. There was a ferocious storm going on outside and I realized how lucky we were that the roaches had got the better of us and we weren’t out in the boat. As I nipped into the kitchen to get a pan to catch the leak I then remembered that the captain and his friend were still out there and my stomach turned.

The next morning brought a beautiful calm day once again and me and Mess headed out of the hut wondering how our ship and captain had managed to get through the night. I guess it was nothing to them as we found them fishing happily off the side of the boat, they gave us a wave and started picking up the anchor.

I realise this is once again turning into quite a long ramble so just to say we had a peaceful journey back. We snorkeled in hammerhead shark territory, Mess caught a fish using our improvised rod, the sun shone and we generally took it easy as we headed back to Derewan.

So, a truly amazing day in possibly the best week of my life. I haven’t had time to write about everything I’d have liked that happened in Derewan; the crazy Canadian headteacher and his lady, swimming after the flying fish, the great water hunt, the stonefish discovery etc. I haven’t laughed out loud so much since I was a kid and don’t remember ever feeling so at ease with life. I only hope if we ever make it back there again that there are no easy access tourist ferry ports, there are no cash machines, there is still only one person who sells beer on the island and life is still simple and easy.

Somehow I doubt it though so perhaps we should make sure we never visit again and always remember our great boat trips.

Photos: Borneo - Sabah

hootons — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 14:33:00 GMT

Borneo

hootons — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 14:28:00 GMT

We arrived in Kota Kinabalu, Borneo with a massive hangover from Cambodia into slightly shabby accommodation and live karaoke in the outside bar, however we were looking forward to seeing some friendly faces from back home.The few days spent with Angie’s parents were a welcome pamper time to take a break from traveling and it was nice to catch up on news from back home. In between catch ups and the relaxing we managed to squeeze in a few activities such as a visit to the Orangutan sanctuary as well as a trip to one of the local islands for a snorkeling adventure.

Having changed our flights to spend more time in Indonesia and less in Australia we weren’t sure what route to take next. Having mulled over the situation we decided that Borneo was a wee bit expensive so we traveled east with a view to get a few of Borneo’s best nature sights in and then travel down into Kalimanatan.

In order to get ourselves moving we headed to Sandakan, purelys a means to the next destination but worth a mention just for the hostel we stayed in. Run by Mr Lum who sits at the main desk in a wife beater vest and shouts at the customers, he looked on the edge of a violent explosion at all times, even if he was simply showing you the way to your room. The deco was a bit 1950’s although impeccability clean and he had the most extensive collection of DVD’s which you could take into your room and watch on the massive flat screen TV (the only modern thing about the place). It was so funny to watch a couple of kids going through this large collection of DVDs and picking ‘only 5’, then getting barked at by the owner, only to come back after about half an hour or so to choose another 5 as they ‘couldn’t decide what they wanted to watch’. It was pretty obvious that they were taking them up to their parents to burn onto the laptop but you have to admire their balls as even we were slightly scared of the man. Despite his bad temper he is an extremely helpful man and obviously tries his best to help his customers but he just shouts at you like he wants to take you down with a meat cleaver.

First stop on the nature trail was a river cruise along the Kinabatangan, an area of jungle which has been cut back so much to be replaced by Palm Olive plantations, that all that is left is a narrow strip which pushes all the wildlife into a small area. Great for nature watching but obviously not so good for the wildlife. We stayed in a small lodge and went for three different river cruises. It certainly lived up to its reputation as we saw orangutans in the wild (apparently not that common) as well as the probiciuos monkey (very very strange noses), crocs, a king cobra to name just a few.

Then it was time to see what the sea had to offer. We headed to Semporna which is the hub for diving around Sipidan island which is world renound. Unfortunately there is a two week waiting list for diving here so we opted for a close neighboring island called Mabul which to us was still brilliant diving. I’d list all the crazy things we saw down there but it’d probably only bore you.

We enjoyed Borneo but our enjoyment was probably clouded by our Cambodia hangover. The nature was amazing (and it was certainly nice to meet up with Angie’s parents) but the towns lacked a certain something (or anything slightly interesting) and it was all a bit expensive. Next time (whenever that is) we’d like to head to the other end of Borneo, Sarawak, as we get the impression it might be me more for us. Certainly if we ever head back with a big bag of cash I’m sure we’ll have a great time.

Photos: East Cambodia

hootons — Sun, 4 Sep 2011 10:51:00 GMT

East Cambodia

hootons — Sun, 4 Sep 2011 10:44:00 GMT

With only three days left we realised we weren’t going to manage to see much of East Cambodia, so we sped off to Senmonorom with only a brief stop in Kampong Cham.

Oh, just a quick note on Kampong Cham.. We have a system when we get to a new hostel or guesthouse where one of us waits with the bags and the other checks to see if the room is any good. On this instance Ben went up and reported back all was good so we took the room and trudged upstairs with our bags. When Angie saw the bathroom she was less than impressed:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/62402778@N06/6068570584/in/set-72157627489843308

He’d missed the fact that there was no loo seat and the sink had been ripped out from the wall. In his defence he said he’d made sure there was a good shower head.

Anyway, Senmonorom is in the far east of Cambodia, quite high up in the mountains and with a bit of a different feel to the places we had visited. As soon as we got off the bus we found a couple of motorbike drivers (no taxis here) to take us to Nature Lodge, one of our favorite spots to sleep so far. One of our drivers ran a local café/bar type place and told us we could hire his bike while we were there.. He handed over the keys and sped away with his friend without taking a deposit or any details, very relaxed way of dealing with people round these parts.

Really wish we had more time to stay in this area as we really liked the rolling countryside, small villages and friendly locals, but sadly we only had two nights left. So, we decided to fill our remaining day with an elephant trek.

We’d had lots of chances to go on an elephant trek in other countries but glad we chose this one. It was through a small village of some sort of minority tribe, who spoke their own language and lived quite separate from the rest of the towns. We were a curiosity when we arrived to all apart from the toothless old men drinking rice wine in a dark shack (at 9.30 in the morning. Its never too early for a good rice wine). We had to wait a little while our mahout (elephant master) went to catch an elephant and bring it back.

Now, I say ‘elephant master’ but these things are massive, so we soon found that if old Nessy wanted to veer off the track and go and eat some juicy bamboo plant, there was little our mahout could do to persuade him otherwise. The scary thing is that they pay no attention to whether there is any path or decent route to the juicy bamboo, they just power through whatever is there. Stubborn beasts elephants.

So after an hours trek into the wilderness we stopped by a river and our silent mahout took us to see a local farmer and then relax in his hut for a bit. Then the highlight of Ben’s trip: washing the beast in the river. Sadly the river was pretty strong and a tad dangerous so Angie decided to take control of the camera instead, but Ben managed to get in and onto his neck (where the mahout sits). It’s a bizarre feeling sitting more or less on the head of an elephant, with its huge ears flapping on your legs and it’s trunk flinging gallons of water into the air. The elephant stood up and made his way to the river bank but sadly the camera stopped working, which is a shame, but we’ll try to upload a couple of pics off Angie’s iPhone.

So we dropped off Ness, biked over to the market where Angie picked up a sarong and headed home to the Nature Lodge, where we shared a bonfire with the farm animals and planned our sad departure from our most favorite country so far.

Photos: Kingdom of Angkor Wat

hootons — Sun, 4 Sep 2011 10:25:00 GMT

Kingdom of Angkor Wat

hootons — Sun, 4 Sep 2011 10:03:00 GMT

We headed to Siem Reap, the doorstep to the ancient Angkor Kingdom, with mixed feelings.

Labeled as the definitive highlight of any Cambodia trip we were more concerned with finding another tourist theme park, complete with armies of hustlers and stalker tuk tuk drivers. Plus we had our doubts over how long we could walk from old temple to old temple without getting bored.

No need to have worried. What an amazing place.

Yes the main temples had plenty of street sellers, but they came in quite handy when you wanted a cold beer to sup as you watched the sun set over an ancient civilization from the top of a temple on a hill. Plus they were only allowed up to a certain point, so you were left in peace as soon as you got close to the temple.

The first morning we set off with our tuk tuk driver at around 4.30 am. Now, we all know Angie can sleep at the drop of a hat, but what most people don’t know is when she first awakes she begins her day like a half sedated rottweiler, friendly enough if left well alone.

So, when we first approached Angkor Watt, with the black night slowly being replaced by deep purple so you could just about see where you were walking, Angie wasn’t in the most inspired of moods, in fact she was tired and grumpy. Check the pictures though, it was a unique feeling watching the blurry outlines of this monster temple sharpen into view as the sun rose and continuously changed the colours that surrounded us. Angie was more keen on the café.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/62402778@N06/6068406928/in/set-72157627462416901

So, we bought a huge cup of Cambodian rocket fuel and took a breather, and it certainly did the trick. Within minutes we were bounding around the Watt with Angie giving a guided tour from our Lonely Planet (the official guides were expensive and lacked the wild eyed caffeine fueled gusto that Angie provided).

It would be pretty dull to detail the rest of our day but check out the pictures to get a sense of what a crazy incredible place it is. Over 1000 temples covering an area of over 1000 squared kilometers created over 1000 years ago and now you can wander about them freely. We took way too many pictures by the way just to warn you.

We soon found ourselves squeezing through tight spots and climbing up to walk on the roofs that were still intact. Really good fun but we cut it short due to the blistering heat and headed home.

I guess a highlight would be the second day. We took an electric pink wearing tuk tuk driver to a temple way out from the rest, about two hours drive but worth the effort. Almost taken over by the surrounding jungle, the temple is half in pieces. Giant trees with roots the size of our flat strangle the walls and dark deserted hallways stay intact and lure you in for a peek.

We spent ages scrambling around and climbing about, it was great fun to explore. Later a small kid found us and offered to show us around some of the less accessible parts. He’d grown up playing there and ran around like it was his back garden.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/62402778@N06/6068501576/in/set-72157627462416901

We soon found ourselves squeezing through tight spots and climbing up to walk on the roofs that were still intact. Really good fun but we cut it short due to the blistering heat and headed home.

Photos: Battambang

hootons — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 17:05:00 GMT

Battambang

hootons — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 16:49:00 GMT

In some ways very much like Kampot, this was again another very sleepy chilled out town with friendly welcoming people. Not so much to see but it was a place to just relax, the town had a nice community vibe and there were plenty of projects going on to try and help local people.

We once again paid for the keys to a bit of freedom and took our latest motorbike into the country where we climbed up to hill top temples and went wine tasting (which was possibly the strangest wine we have ever tasted).

After climbing a spiraling and extremely steep hill (we’re talking first gear on the motorbike) we were rewarded with incredible views of the pancake flat landscape around us. Sitting taking in this view was a friendly monk who we chatted with for some time about past hardships and present life in Cambodia. He wanted to improve things by building more classrooms near his temple to teach English. Before leaving this apparently sacred hill we followed some steps down into an incredible mini-valley, framed by dripping rock formations and guarded by ancient warrior statues. It was a top spot for a breather and a bite to eat.

One afternoon we volunteered at another project, who’s aim was to teach kids English and computer skills after school. We both enjoyed reading books with the tots and the first full class was fun, with a bunch of hyperactive but really enthusiastic 8ish year olds. Then we were split up into different classes and it did get a bit tough when the teachers handed over the chalk with no preparation and expected us to take a class. Ben had a paper airplane guided his way in a class of grumpy mid teens, payback I guess..

Following a recommendation from a traveling architect we met, we went on a cooking course at one of the local restaurants. This was brilliant fun, going around the early morning market, the barrage of smells and colours, learning how to pick out the best ingredients. We smashed and slashed and splattered up three traditional Khmer dishes and got the great pleasure of eating it all at the end.

Photos: Phnom Penh

hootons — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 00:14:00 GMT