My Journey Journal

Saigon Sights

laurakuebel — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 22:03:00 GMT

After our time in the delta, Allie and I weren't overly excited about getting back to urban life in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly known as Saigon). Despite all we'd heard about traffic and bag-snatchers, we really took a liking to the city once we arrived. We're staying in Pham Ngu Lao, which is the backpacker area of the city. Our street is lined with budget hotels, tour agents, and restaurants - we don't have to go far for a banana pancake, a bus ticket, or a bootleg copy of anything Lonely Planet has ever published. It's also great for people-watching, locals and tourists alike.

During our visit we went to the two main sites that commemorate the Vietnam War, the War Remnants Museum and the Reunification Palace. I had been curious to learn more about the war from the Vietnamese point of view, and learn I did. The museum is filled with gruesome photographs of the war, including the effects of Agent Orange and napalm on innocent civilians. It was one of the most striking historical sites I've ever seen, rivaling S21 (see Siem Reap blog) and the Dachau concentration camp in Germany - but what set it apart is that it was our country's doing, and only one generation ago. There were paintings by young kids with colorful cartoon-like images of helping disabled war victims, and their visions of world peace. One child's version of peace took place in outer space, as he'd apparently given up on this planet. At one point I went into the bathroom and just cried - the magnitude of it really got to me.

Afterwards we went to the Reunification Palace, which was where power was given back to the north at the end of the war. It's a fascinating time-freeze of where dramatic events took place, largely left as it was but now with informative exhibits. There is a replica on the roof of the helicopter that evacuated the US troops, as portrayed in the last scene of "Miss Saigon".

Otherwise my time was spent wandering; I especially liked the parks were locals would do their morning excercises, play badminton, and do synchronized dances accompanied by a large portable speaker.

We left Ho Chi Minh City to head back toward Cambodia, and it seemed to take ages to get out of its sprawling city limits. From here I head via Phnom Penh to Bangkok, then to Hong Kong as my final stop on the journey.

Life in the Delta

laurakuebel — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 21:49:00 GMT

Our last stop on the Mekong Delta was Ben Tre, a small-ish town that has largely managed to escape the tourist trail. For that reason, it has been my favorite place in the Vietnam so far. In the three days we were there, we literally saw one other traveler, a British guy staying across the hall in our cheap hotel. Aside from that, the lack of tourists was made obvious by what a spectacle we were. We couldn't walk down the street without hearing regular shouts of "hello!", most often from an adorable child who would giggle when we said hello back. Not only did people stare, but they were definitely not shy about it - a few kids even followed us around for a while. Very few restaurant menus had English translations, and non-Vietnamese food was nowhere to be found - though we had some excellent meals for less than $1USD.

One morning we rented two rickety old bicycles to explore the surrounding area. We crossed the river on a footbridge to the other bank, where we soon discovered a network of paths. They started out narrow and cement, crisscrossing different waterways, eventually becoming dirt. We rode under a thick canopy of trees, past huge ferns, palms, and colorful flowering bushes. Side paths led up to quaint and beautiful homes, most guarded by dogs who were not happy to see us! We had a few close calls, with dogs chasing us as we pedaled for dear life. We also came upon a colorful yet crumbling Chinese Buddhist temple, whose floor was littered with leaves. Not a soul was around, though offerings sat on the mantle.

Ben Tre was a place where we did no real sightseeing - the kind of place where watching daily life happen is the most enjoyable and rewarding thing to do.

Flying Buses and Floating Markets

laurakuebel — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 17:22:00 GMT

The bus ride from Can Tho to Chau Doc neared the top of my "all-time worst transportation experiences" list. We were the last to be picked up in a 15-passenger minibus, though at one point I counted sixteen people. About ten minutes into the ride, Allie realized she had to pee, and we knew we wouldn't be stopping for hours. We were in the back row, seperated from the driver by about twelve Vietnamese people, none of whom spoke English. Eventually she communicated her issue to the driver like a bad game of telephone, and he pulled over a few minutes later.

While we were stopped, I thought I might as well take a restroom break too, and followed her to a small concrete building with three stalls. I definitely chose the wrong one, which had a large dog sleeping on the floor who upon seeing me, went into attack mode. All of a sudden he was up and lunging at me, barking and snarling. Fortunately at the last possible second he was restrained by his chain, and I ran screaming into one of the other stalls. This temporary refuge turned out to be one of the most disgusting bathrooms I'd ever seen - and I thought I'd seen some bad ones. Every inch of it seemed to be covered in some kind of brown or green film, and a tub of green pond-scum water with a little bucket was there with the expected use of manually flushing the squat toilet. I ran back to the bus, dog still barking after me, feeling thankful for his chain.

Most of the journey was down what would be a two lane road, if lanes were at all regarded. Our driver felt the need to pass every truck, motorbike, and vehicle we came upon, honking his horn at each one to make his presence known. Every time I looked to the front, I saw that we were heading straight toward oncoming traffic, which we would inevitably dodge - but after a while I just tried not to look. The road was full of bumps and potholes, which sent us flying out of our seats on a regular basis. At one point our driver caused someone to skid out and fall off their motorbike, but he continued on without noticing or caring.

Feeling stiff but in one peice, we arrived in Can Tho. We were pleased to discover a place on our street that offered full body massages for about US$2, so we were all over it. It was actually an employment center for the blind, so we were able to treat ourselves, have an interesting experience, and support a good cause all at once.

The next morning, I awoke at 5am to find Allie sick to her stomach, saying she'd have to miss out on that day's outing. A few minutes later, still groggy, I was alarmed to discover I'd just used her toothbrush by accident - though fortunately I didn't get whatever she had!

I met up with Tobias and Katia, our new German friends, to take a boat ride to the floating markets the area is famous for. As the sun rose, we made our way down the river in a small motorboat. The floating market consists of a series of boats, each filled with a different kind of produce advertised by a sample bound to its tall mast. Around 6am, the market was lively - locals row their boats up to each other, buying and selling food and wares, chatting, eating fruit and steaming bowls of noodle soup.

The Mekong Delta is an intriguing and lively place, and there is no better way to see it than floating down the river. Shacks on stilts line the banks, made of wood, corrugated metal, and reused tarps. Boats of all kinds pass by - barges full of bricks and building materials, wooden boats packed full of produce, and small rowboats carrying a single person. The boat rides have been one of the highlights of Vietnam; an experiences that gave me a taste of a life so completely and beautifully different from my own.

Down the Mekong

laurakuebel — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 22:35:00 GMT

Our journey from Cambodia to Vietnam included a total of ten hours in transit, from a crowded minibus to a wooden motorboat, which took us down the Mekong River for most of the day. The motor was too loud for anyone to talk, but the ride was scenic. About midday we stopped at the Vietnamese border; my first-ever crossing by water! A freindly Vietnamese lady named San processed our passports while we ate lunch, chatting with us and making jokes.

On the Vietnamese side we changed to a smaller and quieter boat, which took us into the Mekong River Delta. We soon turned down the Hau Giang River, where water buffalos grazed on the banks, boats drifted, and people washed various tiems in the muddy water. Kids swam and played, waving excitedly as we passed by.

Chau Doc's daily market lined the streets starting right outside our hotel door, spreading throughout several blocks toward the center of town. I took a walk through first thing in the morning when it was in full swing, squeezing through narrow passages among the action. Women in colorful printed outfits and cone-shaped straw hats pushed carts of fruit, sold vegetables, flowers, and cakes. I bought a spongy, presunmably rice-based cake in a completely pantomimed transaction, and wander around eating it while trying to guess its contents. Rows and rows of dried fish hang above overflowing baskets of other various preserved fish. The hot air is thick and pungent in the meat section, where there are plucked chickens in a bin with claws up in the air, unidentifiable animal innards, and tanks of sea creatures, many still alive.

I notice there aren't many foreigners in Chau Doc - in fact, the only ones we encounter during our stay are a German couple from our boat, Katia and Tobias. We end up sharing the occasional meal with them over the next few days and realize we're on a similar path.

Before we entered Vietnam, I'd had this image of the delta being lined with sleepy rural towns, but Chau Doc isn't one of them. Though it's relatively small, it still has that horn-honking, frenetic, Southeast Asian feel. There are very few cars; motorbikes are the main means of transport and there are always people wanting to take you around for a small fee. Riding on one was quite scary, but a great way to see the surrounding area. As we rode along, I looked ahead down the street and momentarily wondered if there was a parade or special event happening - but no, it was just an ordinary evening in town.

"Hello, Lady...!"

laurakuebel — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 18:05:00 GMT

"...Lady you want Tuk-tuk? Motorbike? You want massage? You buy something?" These phrases are called out to me constantly as I walk down the streets of Siem Reap, Cambodia. Siem Reap is the nearest town to the ruins of Angkor, which draws millions of tourists from all over the world and is getting busier by the year. Set in the midst of an otherwise poor country, locals understandably try to get their peice of the money Angkor brings to the area. As a result, it seems that at least one in three residents of Siem Reap is a tuk-tuk or moto driver.

Needless to say, Angkor was one of the highlights. We discovered that tickets are available for sale the evening before, so we took advantage of the bonus sunset. Despite the hordes of tourists, Angkor Wat at sunset was a sight to behold - and in my opinion, it is most beautiful in the evening light.

The next morning, we set out once again to Angkor Wat in time to see the sunrise, which was by no means a unique idea. Before dawn, a parade of cars and tuk-tuks was already streaming toward the entrance, and vendors selling coffee, water, and guidebooks were in full force. Allie and I parted ways to find our own quiet spots, and I went all the way to the far gates. By the time the sun came up, my only company was a few cows and the occasional Cambodian passing on a bicycle. But Angkor Wat is only the beginning - we spent the day exploring ruined temples with massive trees and root systems growing through the brick, ones with trecherous but rewarding climbs to the top, and others with incredibly detailed carvings and bas releifs still intact.

Siem Reap itself is an enjoyable town, with a river that makes for great morning walks and people-watching, plenty of restaurants and amenities, and a great night market where tourists flock to buy fisherman's pants, Khmer checkered scarves, and t-shirts that say "Angkor Beer" or "Same Same, But Different" (a mistranslation of "similar" that has become a catch-phrase here).

During my first few days there, I had three nearly identical encounters with locals that soon became predictable. A young Cambodian man would approach me while I was walking alone and strike up a conversation, saying they wanted to practice their English. We'd have a pleasant chat for about five minutes, after which they would mention that they teach at a local orphanage and pull out a photo album full of kids, a flier, and a list of names with various dollar amounts. They were collecting donations. I would usually give a small amount; most were grateful but one guy actually scoffed at me for not giving more! The poverty of Cambodia truly is heartbreaking and ever-present, but I always struggle with when and to whom it is appropriate to give. Though we have met many truly warm and friendly people in Siem Reap, as time went on I started to feel like it was nearly impossible to have a genuine interaction with a local without the expectation of money changing hands. Such is the ongoing dilemma that follows tourism.

Overall, Cambodia is, as I had anticipated, very intense - beautiful, sad, complex, enlightening, and thought-provoking, all at the same time. Though it is by no means the easiest place I've ever traveled, I'm grateful to have had this experience.

Welcome to Cambodia

laurakuebel — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 01:13:00 GMT

En route from Thailand to Cambodia, we spent the entire day in Airport World, traveling from Phuket to Bangkok to Phnom Penh without going outside. I like Airport World - there is always good people-watching and time to relax and reflect. Occasionally I wait long enough somewhere that I'll momentarily forget which country I'm in. Despite its enormity, the Bangkok airport has become one of my favorites - the customs agents smile warmly and actually seem like they're having fun, it has beautiful gold statues and art, and a view of gardens outside. Throughout the day, we had plenty of time to eat overpriced snacks and browse the bookstores, where we found some enlightening how-to books for Western men on how to get a Thai girlfriend or wife (complete with sample wage charts), and read some horrifying personal stories of young women in the sex-trade industry.

The Phnom Penh International Airport, and Cambodia in general, is quite a contrast from Thailand. Our first step upon arrival was obtaining a visa. When we got to the front of the line, our intention was to ask about what kind of visa we needed, since we'd planned to enter the country twice on this trip. The official who took our passports either didn't understand us, didn't care, or some combination of both - he also didn't acknowledge Allie's attempt to tell him he was actually stapling a photo of a 40 year old Asian woman to her application. Regardless, we paid our $20 and our applications were processed promptly. Customs was two stern-looking uniformed men leaning against a wall. We walked on by with our packs and our forms, which were never looked at.

After the ease and relaxation of Thailand, Phnom Penh throws some sensory overload into the mix. Motorbikes, cars, and pedestrians battle for space on the street, constantly near colliding but keeping their flow. Lanes are nonexistent, but horns compensate. Trash lines the streets; a shop owner actively sweeps it there from the sidewalk. Sparks fly as a man welds metal on a rooftop, barefoot and without any special protection. A small child climbs around on some sort of machine, engine exposed and black with road dirt. An old man sits idly on his tuk-tuk, intensely following my gaze as we pass. Dogs bark, wander, and pick through the trash. Old women and children with sad eyes approach and ask for money. Vendors prepare and sell food from carts - various meat and fish, coconut balls, fried savory cakes, bread. Kids in school uniforms congregate. An old man crouches over a small fire on a side street lined with shanties. He stares unmoving as Allie snaps a photo, and I wonder what he is thinking about. Motorbikes carry entire families, large loads of anything and everything. Life moves all around us.

On one tuk-tuk ride our driver stopped for gas, parking opposite a petrol station and crossing through four lanes of traffic to the other side. After a month of flailing across busy streets all over southeast Asia, his ability to stroll casually through the sea of motorbikes and cars truly amazed me. He did the same on the way back across, this time holding two soda bottles full of petrol without a lids, never spilling a drop.

We found a great guesthouse in Phnom Penh for $3.50/night (for the two of us), dropped our bags and headed out to explore. We found a market with a streetside restaurant full of locals and had a seat. We were the only travelers there, and two of just three women. I ordered a small Angkor beer, which I soon found out means a pitcher - a large was a free-standing tank with a tap set up near your table. We shared the small. A girl stood attentively near us, refilling our glasses nearly every time we took a sip, occasionally dropping in huge chunks of ice. Allie had the fried eel, I had fried rice, and all told the meal was US$4 and delicious.

Later that night, I realized that I've been doing the budget travel thing a while when I caught myself commenting that our room was really nice aside from the fleas, spraying the sheets with Deet and going to bed. It was the first time in a while we'd had an inside shower and a fan that actually cooled the room, so we felt like were in luxury. I love how travel makes me appreciate the small things.

We filled our first day with the most emotionally draining of Cambodia's historical sites. Around midday we arrived at Choeung Ek, also known as the Killing Fields. A few kilometers outside Phnom Penh, this was where thousand of people killed by the Khmer Rouge in the late 1970's were executed and buried in mass graves. The main structure is a tall memorial filled with human skulls, bones, and tattered clothes of the victims. We walked around several large pits, each marked with a plaque describing who and how many people were once buried there. Signs marked trees where babies were routinely killed, and where a speaker hung to create noise to drown out the screams.

As if this wasn't depressing enough, afterward we went to S21, now a Genocide Museum that provided more context to what we had just seen. Originally a secondary school, it was converted into a prison during Pol Pot's regime where people were detained and tortured. Four concrete buildings surround a courtyard which now holds 14 gravestones and PE equipment that was later used to hang and torture prisoners. I will spare you all the details, but I will say that a scary movie could easily be filmed here. The inside is left largely as it was during this fairly recent atrocity, with the addition of a heartbreaking photo gallery and a film depicting individual stories of victim's families.

By the end of our time there, I was spent. I looked out a third-story window at all the houses below, ranging from colorful French-colonial style to corrugated metal shacks. I wondered about the people who live here now, and how this story has intertwined with their families' lives. Outside, people play hackyy-sack in the courtyard and the usual pack of tuk-tuk drivers animatedly solicits our business. We walk. I feel ready to go home and stare at a wall, needing time to process what I'd just seen.

Tropical Paradise

laurakuebel — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 20:22:00 GMT

Relaxing in Ko Lanta was nice, but we also knew there was more to be experienced when it comes to stunning beaches of southern Thailand. We had time for one more stop, so we chose Tonsai beach - a peninsula on the mainland that feels like an island, isolated by jungle-topped limestone cliffs and accessible only by boat.

We arrived by ferry in neighboring Railay beach, and where the water got too shallow we were transferred to a wooden longboat until we were close enough to wade the rest of the way in. Getting to neighboring Tonsai was even more of an adventure with our packs - it was a half hour climb over rocks and boulders, all of which were either slippery, half underwater, or sharp. Upon arrival we were informed that the way we came is only accessible at low tide, and there was in fact an easier route above.

Tonsai is a true budget travelers paradise - nestled between dramtic limestone cliffs, it consists of just a few dirt paths with cheap bungalows, deliciously cheap restaurants and food stands, Thai massages and a few places to rent climbing and snorkeling gear. There are no cars whatsoever, and in my opinion it's one of the most scenic beaches around.

There is ongoing debate among budget travelers about southern Thailand, which beaches are worthwhile and which are over-touristed. The way people talked about the Raiay area, I'd expected it to be a bit crowded - but Tonsai was the one place I thought had just the right amount going on. It's inhabited, but looking at the shoreline you still see mostly trees - most everything is nicely hidden away just a short walk into the jungle.

My absolute favorite highlight was the snorkeling day trip. In the mid-afternoon we boarded a longtail boat and headed out to the first of three snorkeling sites, Poda island. As soon as I jumped in to the crystal-clear water, I was surrounded by the most unbelievable sea life - with reef just inches below me, I was face-to-face with colorful fish, black spiny sea urchins with what looked like a single blue glowing eye in the center, and all kinds of coral - one looked like a giant seashell with soft purple lips that closed when I swam near. The next site was deeper water near a large rock (or small island?) with caves underneath. I swam under to the other side above the largest coral I've ever seen, schools of fish that look like Nemo, and one big fish that stayed near the ocean floor who was patterned like a dark brown giraffe.

The boat was stocked with freah pineapple, water, and Beer Chang for between stops. After all three swims, we settled on a nearly deserted island which at low tide connects to its neighbor by a long narrow stretch of sand, gentle waved coming from both sides. As far as we could tell, the islands were inhabited only by a Thai family who ran a single food stand on the shore. The islands became two again just before sunset, when thousands of bats emerged into their nightly migration away from the island. After dark, another boat arrived with pots of sticky rice and delicious seafood green curry for the group.

On our way back, we pulled up in a deep spot for a night swim. I had never seen phosphorescence before, and it blew my mind - as soon as I jumped in and started moving my arms and legs, they were surrounded by trails of sparkling light underwater. The faster I moved, the more magical it was - seeing it through the snorkeling mask was especially surreal.

The boat departed too soon, but the ride back was peaceful. I lay in the back of the boat, passing limestone cliffs and looking up at a sky full of stars. At that moment I felt so grateful for what I am experiencing on this trip. That day, in its entirety, was one of those days when travel feels most rewarding - when I am truly amazed by the beauty of our planet.

Island Exploration

laurakuebel — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 17:00:00 GMT

Thailand began with an early morning flight to Phuket, where we'd planned to stay just long enough to get a boat to the next island. Unfortunately, when Allie realized she'd left her ATM card at the airport, the aftermath consumed enough time for us to miss the rest of the day's ferries. While she sorted out her situation, I was determined to salvage the rest of my afternoon by going to the beach - so I took the local bus to Patong, the nearest beach recommended to me by some other travelers. Phuket is one of the most populated islands in Thailand, which is obvious everywhere you go - the streets of Patong were lined with bars and tour companies, and the beach was covered in lawn chairs, umbrellas, people selling coconuts with straws, and various inflatable floating objects for rent. I took a quick stroll before returning to town for some pad thai and a Beer Chang, and was ready to head out in the morning.

We made a fresh start on the first ferry of the next day. The boat took us past Ko Phi Phi, where we boarded a smaller boat and continued on to Ko Lanta. Ko Lanta is the classic beach hangout island, with beaches lined with bungalows and laid back bars/restaurants on the sand. Our days consisted of swimming in the warmest water ever, getting a Thai massage on the beach, eating seafood curry, and drinking mango lassis.

Our time in Ko Lanta happened to coincide with the Lanta Lanta Festival, a 3-day annual celebration in Ko Lanta's Old Town. The streets were lined with food stalls, clothing vendors, and various games, one where you could spin a wheel for prizes including oversize stuffed animals, a toy machine gun, or two dozen eggs. Stages hosted traditional Thai music and dance, fire twirlers, a synchronized dance group, and a beauty pageant emceed by a drag queen. Afterwards we returned to the bungalows, where another fire twirler showed off to those at the beach bar. This one got a bit more exciting, when he unknowingly caught the back of his shirt on fire, which burned for a remarkably long time before he noticed.

We'd made friends with a couple German travelers in our bungalows, who offered to take us around the island on their rented motorbikes. The highlight of our exploring was a hike through the Mai Kaeo cave, which is only allowed with a guide. They gave us each a headlamp to navigate through what soon became pitch darkness, squeezing through tiny spaces and climbing down steep rocks. Through one cavern after another, we passed a lagoon, creepy rock formations, and a sleeping colony of bats, emerging out the other side covered in dirt. On the way back, our guide showed us tapped rubber trees with white liquid oozing out, and we picked fresh lemongrass - one of my all time favorite smells. Gibbons swished through the branches overhead, a baby one curiously checked us out. A few elephants waited on the side of the path for tourists to climb on board, one looking particularly sad when a guy with a voluptuous biker chick tattooed on his hairy love handle climbed atop his head. We'll walk, thanks.

Cameron Highlands and Batu Caves

laurakuebel — Wed, 3 Mar 2010 20:34:00 GMT

Just when I thought I'd seen the smallest guesthouse room ever, we checked in to our room at the Kang Traveler's Lodge in Tanah Rata. The room barely fit our two twin beds, but fortunately the door faces a grassy courtyard with a log picnic table, Buddha shrine, and a view of the rooftops below.

Tanah Rata is in the Cameron Highlands, where the elevation provides welcome relief from the thick tropical heat of the cities. The town itself is small, but it has everything a traveler could want - guesthouses, internet cafe, bank, and a row of various tasty and affordable Asian restaurants. There are also tour operators in every other storefront, offering day trips to places like tea plantations and strawberry farms - none of which we thought were tour-worthy, and some of which we ended up walking past later on our hikes anyway. Needless to say, we passed on the tours.

Each morning we set out for one of the dozen or so jungle treks that surround Tanah Rata, as depicted on an amusingly vague map we'd gotten from one of the tour offices. Most of the trails start in unexpected places, like behind a veterinary clinic or on someone's farm. Just when we thought we were lost or trespassing we'd find a trail head, where an ancient metal sign stood rusted and worn to a barely legible degree. The metal signs were sometimes supplemented by a newer wooden sign, usually pointed into the bush in a slightly different direction than the original. I'd read that it's not unusual for travelers to get lost in the highlands for days, and I could understand why. Each day we hiked for several hours through dense forest, climbing tangled tree roots up hillsides through some intense but fun terrain. With waterfalls and scenic views of the highlands, the hikes were rewarding - especially the part when we found our way back to town, dirty but in one piece.

After our hike, another daily activity was hanging out with our hostel's three resident puppies. Now about four weeks old, the puppies had been found in the jungle by a traveler and are being raised by the guest house's bartender. We'd take them out of their pen in the Jugle Bar and watch them play and stumble around awkwardly around the yard, as puppies do. They made my day every time.

In my travels I have gotten used to seeing American chain restaurants pretty much everywhere, but for some reason the Starbucks in small, fairly remote Tanah Rata really caught me off guard. I have to admit though, that after a few days of resisting I gave in to temptation and got myself a latte. The Starbucks was identical to any I'd ever seen, only with meat pies and squat toilets. The latte also cost the same as it would at home - which to put that in perspective, was almost as much as that night's accommodations and twice as much as I paid for dinner at the Indian restaurant next door. But since I hadn't had anything but instant coffee in weeks and there were no competing local coffee places, I thoroughly enjoyed the splurge.

Back in Kuala Lumpur, we spent our last day in Malaysia doing a day trip to the Batu Caves, just outside the city. Home to the largest Murugan (a Hindu diety) statue in the world, the caves are one of the most popular tourist sites in Malaysia. Usually a high tourist quotient takes away from the experience of a place, but today it made for people-watching that was just as interesting as the site itself. People from all over the world milled about the limestone caves, posing in front of the Hindu shrines throughout. At the entrance, vendors sold Hindu diety bumper stickers, colorful light-up signs, and cold drinks. Signs warning "Do not feed the monkeys" were largely ignored, with both parents and complete strangers snapping photos of their kids feeding them. Those that weren't being fed scurried up the cave walls, eyeing people expectantly and scavenging in the trash cans.

As I waited for Allie to come out, I bought an orange soda and sat at the top of the several story tall staircase leading up to the cave entrance, watching people exhaustedly reach the landing. I had almost finished the soda when all of a sudden a monkey came up beside me, grabbed it from my hands, threw the straw to the ground, and started drinking from the can. Once empty, he threw the can down the stairs and scampered off.

Meanwhile, I found Allie in mid-conversation with two Buddhist monks, clad in the usual orange robes. They were from Sri Lanka, and by far the most outgoing monks I'd ever seen. I was always under the impression that Buddhist monks were to avoid contact with women in public, and had acted accordingly when I see them around - but these guys contradicted every guidebook I'd read. We parted ways at the caves but ended up at the same Indian restaurant afterwards, where we talked about Buddhism and life as a monk over lunch, and on the bus all the way back to KL.

Photos: Singapore

laurakuebel — Tue, 2 Mar 2010 20:25:00 GMT

Photos: Malaysia

laurakuebel — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 21:02:00 GMT

A Weekend in Singapore

laurakuebel — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 15:48:00 GMT

Traveling around peninsular Malaysia, we were too close to Singapore to resist checking it out. I'd always heard mixed reviews about Singapore; many travelers lament that it has developed away all its character and become an overpriced modern metropolis, but I was curious enough to want to see it for myself.

It met most of my expectations, as in yes, it is clean, orderly, and a bit pricey by Asian standards (though still fairly cheap). Though we did discover some interesting cultural enclaves. The first evening we walked through the Arab Quarter, whose streets are lined with colorful textile shops, hookah lounges, and cafes. We were guided to the center by the gold minarets of the Sultan Mosque poking above the pastel two-story shuttered buildings, and had a delicious $3 meal on a pedestrian street.

Nearby, Little India was as bustling and lively as a Little India should be. Its market almost seemed out of place in clean-cut Singapore, where tarps lined an alley with people selling random household items, clothes, shoes, and clunky old electronics. We also happened upon a large Hindu temple with colors, smoke, chanting and people spilling onto the sidewalk. We went in and milled about among the people milling about, taking in all the sights, sounds and smells. The temple was filled with colorful statues of Hindu gods, where people kneeled and offered incense, fruit, and other food. A crowd stood intently around a man chanting, while another came around thumbing a colorful powdered circle on their foreheads. A group of women filled a silver bucket with several containers of milk, while a man tended a fire in a heart-shaped pit. Ghee lamps burned everywhere. In all its sensory overload, being in that temple felt like a dream - the good kind of dream that is the essence of travel.

We did allow ourselves a rare touristy splurge, a ride on the Singapore Flyer - the tallest ferris wheel in the world. It's so big that it takes 30 minutes to come all the way around, and it can fit up to 28 people in each car (though fortunately we didn't have to try). Along the way, it has an audio tour explaining everything you see, which they must have to update often - much of the waterfront looked like a giant construction project, and I have a feeling that's not unusual. Ships lined the port as far as I could see in one direction, while in the other I could see all the way back to Malaysia.

Singapore's MRT system is great - though its only downfall is that if you get off at a stop, chances are that stop is attached to a mall. On a few occasions we'd miss the street exit, and end up winding through a maze of underground hallways trying to find our way back up to the street. Though the malls were nice a/c break from the thick tropical heat, they were also a bit overwhelming.

We stayed in a hostel that is a reflection of Singapore itself - clean and air-conditioned, but accommodating more people in a given space than is reasonable. Allie and I stayed in a 4 bed dorm room - the other two bunks were occupied by Luke, a young traveler from Orange County, and Don, a twenty-something from the Philippines who knew a tremendous amount about American pop culture. At night we'd lay in our bunks, with Don asking a thousand questions about America, from "How long does a president stay in office?" to "Is Michael Jackson really dead?". Before we left I gave him a copy of my CD, which amazed him - he even apologized for not having heard of me as an American musician.

On our way back from the Chinese Festival of the Arts on our last night in town, we walked though an underpass near our MRT stop to find it full of Singaporean teenagers. Apparently it's a popular gathering place on weekends for youth who want to practice and show off their performance skills. It was mostly break dancers, but there were also a few jugglers and a group of girls doing synchronized dances to pop songs. I think it was even more entertaining than the festival we'd just come from!

Though we were glad to have experienced Singapore, by the time we left we were ready to get out of the big city. We boarded an overnight bus, settled in with some bad subtitled movies, and were on our way back to mellow Malaysia.

Favorite Signs

laurakuebel — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 15:39:00 GMT

One of the most amusing parts of travel is seeing all the mistranslated and just plain funny signs around the world. I'll add to this section as I go along, but here are some of my favorites so far:

1. "After Using the Toilet, Please Clean Up Probably. Thank You for your Civic Mindedness." - Hostel, Singapore

2. "Congratulations - We Are Now Open" - Shop, Singapore

3. "Please Do Not Feed the Seagulls. They Shit All Over the Place and it Will Sometimes Land in Your Food" - Patio of Fish and Chips restaurant, Australia

4. "Please Do Not Let Strangers Follow You Inside" - On the graffiti-covered entrance to a sketchy looking hostel in Melbourne, where obviously we decided not to stay.

5. "No Cooking in Laundry" - Campground, Australia

Melaka Days

laurakuebel — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 13:13:00 GMT

The morning we left Kuala Lumpur started with a few situations that, like many travel moments, were both frustrating and funny - or more accurately, frustrating at the time and funny afterwards.

I woke up in our tiny orange room, ceiling fan ineffectively stirring the stuffy air. Though it was early, Allie was already gone - and unfortunately, so were the keys, with the door locked from the outside! I was trapped, a slight sense of panic set in when I realized I had no idea where she was or how long she'd be gone. After an unsuccessful lock-picking attempt with tweezers, I shouted toward the courtyard every few minutes until finally Hadi, the owner, finally came to let me out.

We'd bought tickets for an 11am bus to Melaka, so we left around ten to walk to the station. Plenty of time, we thought, since the walk to the bus station consisted of two streets. Though nothing here is well marked, we figured we could just ask around and find our way.

I remembered reading about Malaysian people's tendency to not want to tell you any bad news (i.e. "Sorry, I don't know where the bus station is"), so they'll give you any answer even if it's completely wrong. On that walk, we had the opportunity to see this cultural phenomenon in action. Everyone we asked for directions said something different, most just pointing vaguely out into the tangled web of streets.

Trying to remain hopeful, we asked a uniformed man which way the station was, and he said to go left. After walking left for about a half hour, we asked another guy, who pointed back in the direction we'd come. By this point we were pretty sure we'd miss the bus, but kept up our pace anyway. By the time we were sprinting past the mile-long bus queue leading up to the station, we had just a few minutes until eleven. We found the platform and asked every driver around, but none of the buses in sight were ours. Just when I thought we'd missed it, a bus bearing a Melaka sign pulled up. In the time it took to put my bag underneath, a crowd of waiting people had swarmed in and filled the bus - and just as quickly, we were on our way.

Melaka is a few hours south of Kuala Lumpur, a mid-sized town with a blend of well-preserved colonial Dutch architecture and a prominent Baba Nyonya culture (combination of Chinese and Malaysian). In the center of town, Red Dutch Square is lined with a constant parade of pedicabs adorned with colorful umbrellas and flowers, ready to take people for a spin while blaring Michael Jackson tunes.

We found a lovely guesthouse whose back terrace faces the river that runs through town, and immediately knew we'd be staying a while. It's clean, cozy, and US$7 each. Upon our arrival Mani, the owner, sat down with us over a cold glass of lychee juice and gave us the lowdown on what to see and which local foods to try.

Though I've sampled some local specialties, I also fell in love with an Indian restaurant I've eaten at at least once a day. Instead of a plate, they put a piece of banana leaf the size of a place mat in front of you. Coming around with bowls of rice and pots of whatever you ordered, they scoop it onto the banana leaf along with a sampling of three salads. If they notice you're getting low on something, they come around again and scoop you out another portion. I leave full and happy every time, for a total of about US$2.

Melaka has an abundance of museums, ranging from the Stamp Museum to the Instruments of Torture Museum. Today I went with the People's Museum, which is full of endearingly bad English translations. The first floor starts with the expected cultural overview. Next is an entire floor dedicated to kites, followed by the Museum of Enduring Beauty, exhibits that will "exam mini" ways people have altered their appearance since the "days of yesteryear" (foot binding, lip plates, etc). It also had an unintentionally hilarious "3D" gallery, where TVs loop bad actors in fake beards doing a hologram portrayal of the Portuguese invasion of Melaka.

In the evenings I enjoy walks along the murky Melaka River, where boats cruise along every few minutes giving pre-recorded audio tours. White Dutch-style buildings line one river bank, while on the other I see old men hanging out on benches, people praying through the windows of mosques, a neon-lit ferris wheel and small shacks on stilts. Everyone I pass is genuinely friendly; one man came up to me just to say "Hello, thank you for coming Melaka. OK bye!" and moved on.

Given that Melaka was recently designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, there are surprisingly few tourists here. People are more intrigued than usual that we're here from America on our own, and our guesthouse owner has a look of surprise every time we ask her to extend another night - she said this is usually a place travelers breeze through on their way to Singapore or KL. As far as I'm concerned, they're missing out!

Asia: It's On!

laurakuebel — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 00:32:00 GMT

Kuala Lumpur, Day 1. With all due respect to the wonders of New Zealand and Australia, today was a day when felt like I was truly traveling. Traveling as in everything around me, the climate, the smells, the sounds, the food, and the social norms are all completely different than what I'm used to at home. And I'm loving it.

We arrived late last night, impressed by the ease and cleanliness of the Kuala Lumpur airport and monorail system. We made our way to our simple guesthouse near Times Square, which is essentially a huge shopping mall. KL is in many ways what I expected as a southeast Asian capital city - frenetic and fast with diesel and food scented air, a combination of modern skyscrapers, Starbucks and KFCs, and crumbling grey buildings. If you're walking around gazing up at the Petronas Towers or the visual buffet of neon signs above, you just have to keep one eye on the sidewalk to avoid the occasional open sewer covered by a two-by-four or the bustling pedestrian parade coming from all angles.

Malaysia is a predominately Muslim country, so women are covered to varying degrees from stylish dresses to burquas. Tourists in short shorts are more obvious than ever in contrast to the fully covered women.

Our first sightseeing destination was the Islamic Arts Museum. The galleries of art, models of centuries-old mosques, calligraphy and intricate embroidery were incredible - may favorite was an exhibit by American photographer Steve McCurry, whose photos are a striking commentary on life all over the Muslim world.

Later on we went to Chow Kit, a traditional market. At first glance it appeared small, with food stalls leading into a covered alleyway with a few tables. But one alley led to another, with vendors lining the streets in every direction. We followed it into a covered area smelling of dampness and fish and meat. Late in the day, some vendors were hosing down their tables while others still displayed dried fish, fresh squid, and every part of a cow imaginable. Back outside, a man pulled chickens from their crates, expertly slitting one throat after another, and tossing their lifeless bodies into a bin. Allie took a video on her digital camera, while I averted my eyes and took an extra interest in the bananas.

My first day in Malaysia was an eye-opening one - full of experiences I'm still replaying in my mind. I love the feeling of being amazed at everything I see, and I'm looking forward to what the coming weeks in Asia will bring.

Half Way Home

laurakuebel — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 17:10:00 GMT

Our last stop in Australia has been a long one, just over a week in Melbourne. Nearly halfway through my three month trip, it has been nice to spend enough time in one city to really get to know it; to find my favorite spots and even a few small elements of routine.

Our first stop was returning the rental car, which I was proud to have done in one piece - and after only having been called stupid once while driving through the insanity of Melbourne! The transition to walking was welcome. As we were trudging around with our backpacks and maps upon arrival, I had a strange sensation of familiarity - though in a new city, I realized I've repeated this same scenario, this same lost feeling, so many times across the world - and something about that brought a sense of comfort and ease.

Having arrived without plans, the task at hand was to find a hostel that both had available rooms and didn't smell like feet - which in the peak of summer was harder than it sounds. We ended up in the Hotel Discovery, a hostel whose lobby resembled a Chuck-E-Cheese for adults: circus-like primary colors, loud music and lots of people people milling about. In other words, the kind of hostel that is starting to make me feel old.

Settled near the city center, we went out to experience a Friday night in Melbourne. We'd heard about a bar called Shit Town, rumored to have an '80s dive aesthetic and whose name intrigued us. An hour later, we gave up on trying to find its obscure back alley location, realizing maybe we weren't quite Shit Town material anyway - after all, we'd Google mapped it and walked around with the printout in our sandals and traveler attire, basically in circles. Everyone else around was dressed up all trendy in that new '80s kind of way - and all of a sudden being on day three of the same outfit felt less OK than it had before.

Overall, I like Melbourne. It has ingredients of a great city - both well-preserved historic and innovative modern architecture, plenty of green space, and constant events and festivals. It also has decent public transportation but more importantly, the ability to get generally anywhere you want to go without having to use it.

Geeky as it may sound, I think my favorite place in Melbourne is its library. The Victoria library is a giant stately stone building, where people gather on the front lawn to eat lunch, hang out, read, or stage protests. Allie and I use it as our meeting place any time we need one, and come here almost daily for the free internet. It also has galleries of historical and art exhibits, including one of incredible rare books. My favorite is the giant reading room with rows of old heavy wooden desks and balconies full of books leading up to its four-story glass-topped dome ceiling. An ideal journaling spot, or if nothing else a place to escape the ozoneless Australian sun for a while.

Library aside, I've had a pretty diverse week. I celebrated Chinese New Year in Chinatown, saw some hilarious Aussie stand-up comedians, took an impromptu hip-hop dance class at the St. Kilda beach festival, learned more about the heartbreaking oppression of Aboriginal culture, bought fresh produce nearly every day at the Victoria Market, and tried every possible variety of Tim Tams (dark chocolate and caramel are both favorites).

I'm definitely feeling as though I'm in the midst of long term travel - I have Chaco sandal tan lines, recently couldn't remember my own phone number, and just gave myself a haircut in a hostel dorm room. But there have also been times I've had to remind myself I'm in another country, as in many ways Australia is not all that different from home.

However, tomorrow I will say goodbye to low humidity, $7 beers, and western culture to board a plane to Kuala Lumpur. Asia will no doubt challenge me, amaze me, and perhaps make me even more homesick, but I'm feeling ready for the next adventure.

Photos: Australia

laurakuebel — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 09:29:00 GMT

Wildlife Encounters

laurakuebel — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 17:33:00 GMT

After a refreshing night's sleep in an actual bed, we set off from Torquay toward the Great Ocean Road. The trusty Visitor Center ladies had given us a list of noteworthy stops along the way, including some seemingly random (yet very specific) directions to places we could spot some wildlife - one of the things I was most looking forward to in Australia.

The first little side trip was a golf course in the town of Anglesea, where kangaroos are rumored to hang out. This one we nearly bypassed, unsure whether it would be worth the detour, but that nagging "what if we miss out" feeling made us pull over and go back. We found the course and wandered around the outskirts - sure enough, there were kangaroos everywhere! Viewing wildlife on a golf course, a place I usually associate with devouring an area's natural landscape, was a strange experience - though the kangaroos seemed more comfortable with people than they ever would have been out in the wilderness. They were hanging out near us in the trees, hopping across the fairways, and perking up their ears when the big lawnmowers passed by. We later learned that there are estimated to be up to 1,000 kangaroos living on and around the course.

The next stop was near Kennet River, on a small side road we headed down in search of koalas. Following the gravel road past a few country houses, we drove at a crawling pace, peering into the trees. Before we saw any koalas, we spotted a car parked with people nearby, pointing into the eucalyptus trees above. Once we saw one koala, we saw many....all perched up in the branches, most sleeping though the mid-afternoon heat, some waking up occasionally to munch on some leaves. I found myself having that overcome-with-cuteness feeling, the one usually reserved for dogs and babies.

The end of our Great Ocean route was Port Fairy, where we settled in to a quaint YHA hostel run by a friendly couple. The hostel is located near a nature reserve, Griffith Island, where we were told the animals are most active around dusk. After another sleeping bag-less camp night and long car day, I was exhausted and tempted to stay in for the night, but went out to explore anyway.

As I walked to the reserve, still feeling somewhat unmotivated, I was reminded of a conversation I had with the Kellers on the night before I left for this trip. It was about how some of the greatest travel moments happen when you take an opportunity to do something, despite the fact that you didn't feel like doing it at all. That hike was one of those moments.

It was dusk, and the weather was gray and misty. Halfway through the trail around the island, I still hadn't seen any animals. It was getting darker, and I thought maybe I'll just give up and come back in the morning. But when I stopped and sat on a bench to remove a rock from my shoe, I looked over and saw a wallaby about 12 feet away, staring right back at me.

Griffith Island is also home to a colony of thousands of short-tailed Shearwater birds (aka 'mutton birds'). The beach looked like a bird graveyard of sorts - I walked among bird remains in varying stages of decomposition, beaks and feathers poking out of the sand looking slightly eerie in the fading light - though a plaque is there to reassure visitors this is all part of the natural process of the colony. At the end of the trail, I ran into a handful of other people from the hostel who had gathered to view the thousands of birds return to the beach after sunset every night.

The next morning, a rain set in that wasn't going anywhere anytime soon - so neither were we. We booked another night at the hostel, and spent a lovely day in bookstores and cafes, reading and eating lots of carbohydrates. That was a much needed day of relaxation before heading back to Melbourne to return the car.

The Great Ocean Road trip was definitely scenic, but the best part about the experience was that we took our time - the detours are what made the journey memorable.

Road Trip Down Under

laurakuebel — Tue, 9 Feb 2010 10:12:00 GMT

We departed Sydney in another tiny rental car, this time bound for Melbourne via the coastal route. Our drive started along with a rainstorm large enough to shut down the Sydney airport, which followed us south for a few days. We'd inherited a tent from friends in Sydney, and with National Parks lining the route, figured we'd have no problem camping along the way - if only it weren't pouring rain and we'd had any other camping gear besides the tent.

Our only plan was to drive until we felt like stopping - though unfortunately, the rain didn't. So one was spent sleeping in our Hyundai, in the village of Jervis Bay - a town that includes a general store, a police station, and about two streets with a handful of houses. We parked under a streetlight and got as much sleep as we could without the ability to extend our legs. The highlight though, was when Allie came back from a bathroom run knocking on my window and pointing excitedly in the pouring rain - our first kangaroo sighting! There were two of them, just hanging out in someone's front yard, munching away on the grass.

The next morning, the rain took a break long enough for a hike around the bay, during which we heard the "thump thump" of more kangaroos in the bush, and found some interesting sea creature remnants washed up on the beach.

We continued on through more small towns, stopping at the occasional art gallery, gas station or visitor center. We also happened upon the Ninety Mile Beach, which is exactly as it sounds - a beach that stretches farther than they eye can see, with no development and very few people. I walked for an hour, seeing only a few surfers and a few happy dogs running off leash with their owners (Norm would have been in heaven!)

As the rain subsided, we finally put our tent to use in a town called Lakes Entrance. Suitably named, Lakes Entrance is near some amazing beaches and lakes, though the town itself is an uninspiring strip of caravan parks, chain restaurants and shops that close at 4pm. We did find a fairly secluded campsite just out of town, and having no sleeping pads or bags, woke up from a restless sleep early enough to witness the lakefront sunrise and get an early start to the day.

The vast majority of the Australian population live in its major cities, making the in-between routes a simple drive and the cities complete chaos. What originated as a stop in Melbourne to get local information turned into an entire afternoon of being lost in the city, taking wrong turns, and being bewildered by signs such as "right turn from left lane only". I will venture to say that Melbourne was the most stressful driving experience I've ever had.

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the Visitor Center volunteers of the world. We're taking a Lonely Planet break and traveling without a guidebook here, so we are relying on them way more than I ever have before. In most cases volunteers and just as often sweet ladies over 65, their pink lipstick smiles, calm demeanor and thorough advice always cheers me up. The Melbourne ladies sent me on my way with a stack of brochures and maps and renewed patience, and an hour later the Geelong ladies booked us a hostel and helpled us finish up our long day of driving. Perhaps someday I too will be a Visitor Center lady, and repay the good fortune they have bestowed upon me in my travels.

Sydney Life

laurakuebel — Fri, 5 Feb 2010 09:49:00 GMT

Our first stop in Australia was naturally its largest and most vibrant city, Sydney. The population of Sydney is about 4.5 million, or to put that in perspective, almost a quarter of the entire population of Australia. As big as it is, Sydney is a top-notch city - pristine beaches, daily sunshine, and a great transport system, including ferries that take you anywhere along the harbor to enjoy spectacular views of the city skyline. And lots of bats.

I arrived in the Sydney airport and met Isaac, an old friend from San Diego who now lives here. We headed down to the train platform, where to my surprise, four others were waiting - Nathan and Courtney (also SD friends), Isaac's roommate Dave, and Allie, who had been on an earlier flight that day. There's nothing better than arriving in a new country to familiar faces, a place to stay and someone who knows the city inside and out to show us around.

Our Sydney days were filled with lots of ferry rides, beautiful walks, candid photos in front of the opera house, beers in rooftop bars, and sampling the local cuisine, including savory pies, kangaroo and emu pizza.

Another culinary highlight was Isaac and Dave's favorite restaurant, Fratelli Fresh - a must-visit for anyone who goes to Sydney. It's an Italian market that takes whatever is fresh that day and creates a unique menu every night. Safe to say the best risotto I've ever had, followed by banoffee pie - a heavenly combination of a biscuit cookie-ish crust, toffee filling, fresh bananas, fresh cream. Top it off with a few carafes of wine and good friends, and life is good.

Isaac had also set up a gig for us at the Excelsior hotel, a pub in Surrey Hills. As soon as we got on stage, I felt like we'd been transported back to San Diego, where Isaac and I have spent many an evening doing shows together. Allie also made a guest appearance onstage to round out what the other band from Tasmania called "Yankee Night". I consider it the one and only show on Laura's World Tour, 2010.

After almost a week in Sydney, we are about to part ways for a road trip down the coast - to Melbourne via wherever we feel like stopping. We've gotten our city fix, and nature beckons!