Favorite Pictures

              

Random Video Clips

You can’t really tell from this video, but we’re actually climbing a pretty steep hill. 

 

Crazy Drunk Johnny’s last stop on the tour.  These monkeys would steal anything that wasn’t tied down. 

 

Walking around Angkor Wat with the Dutch Girls to some crazy traditional Khmer music. 

 

These kids sat next to me on a bus for 5 hours and ate all my cashews. 

 

Look at Michael slapping that ass. 

AK-47 in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.  For $15 you could shoot a chicken.

The End

When Scott and I parted ways on January 31st our skin was brown, our hair was long, our beards scruffy, and our need for adventure had been temporarily satisfied.  The end wasn’t sad.  Scott was off to surf the waves of his life in Indo, and I was headed back to the good old USA.  I didn’t really occur to me until I was about halfway through my 30 hours of flight that I was still unemployed and homeless.  The reality started setting in and it wasn’t so bad.  My Boeing 777 out of never-neverland touched down in Washington, DC and all of the sudden I was surrounded by large, old, white people in suits with serious looks, fancy phones, and laptops.  America.  I sat down at a Fuddruckers at 9:45 AM and ordered the largest burger on the menu, mashed it, and considered another one.  They have McDonald’s everywhere in Bangkok, but that still doesn’t mean you can get a decent burger in that country.  It’s wet and cold, my cell phone works for a change.  Life was slipping back to normal way too fast like I had just been teleported.  I’m the only person in the airport in flip-flops with crazy hair.  People are looking at me funny.  They should, I look funny. 

In a week, my tan will be gone.  I will soon have to get a haircut for job interviews.  My left flip-flop is on the verge of blowing out.  Soon I will not look so funny walking through an airport, that makes me sad.  My parents are there waiting for me in the New Bern airport, they too comment on how I look like some islander, and are happy to see me.  But not as happy as Kramer, who also gave me a funny look, and then almost wagged her tail through the door. 

Another Night In B-kok

Did I mention before that Scott and I are ballers?  The past fews days we’ve been rolling VIP everywhere.  It started on the train when they were out of second class bunks so we chose the first class private room over the bench seats.  We still ended up slumming it in the dining car, hanging out with some Thai dudes that were getting hammered and didn’t speak any english.  Then we roll out to the Muy Thai last night and get front row seats.  Expensive, but when else do you have the opportunity to get blood splattered all over your shirt.  The fights were awesome.  Before the two guys fight, they come out and do this traditional muy thai dance.  It is really strange and kind of awkward to watch, because it’s half warm-up routine and half sexy-dance.  You’d laugh, but people would kick your ass.  There is this crazy, almost Indian music that a band is playing the whole time and picks up as the fight gets more intense, and there are stands packed full of old Thai dudes gambling, screaming, and counting out the knees and punches.  The whole stadium could have been from 1960, everything in the place was dirty and worn out.  We got there right after the two preliminary fights and watched the main 7 fights.  We were both dead tired and full when we got in there, but there’s nothing like people beating the crap out of each other to wake you up.  Punches and kicks with the occasional devastating knee or elbow.  It was crazy and one of the coolest experiences over here.  One guy got hauled off in a stretcher after a kick to the face, and a couple of the other fights got bloody, but my hopes of seeing someones face explode from a flying knee will be delayed until another time.  Everybody cleared out after the fifth fight, which was the main event, but we stuck around and watched the last two.  The last fight of the night was between these two little boys that were about twelve.  It’s kind of strange to see a stadium full of old Thai men gambling on little kids, but kind of awesome too.  These little kids could kick the shit out of most of the people I know.  How would you like to get your ass beat by a 90 lb. Thai boy?  Or better yet, a ladyboy?  Jon Conrad was telling us about this Muy Thai fighter a couple years ago that was a katoi, ladyboy.  He trained by himself at night, started fighting, and destroyed everyone he fought.  All the while, wearing make up, and blowing kisses to his/her opponents after mashing them.  It was supposedly very controversial, as Muy Thai is very traditional and in a way, sacred, and this guy was embarrassing the entire community, while winning.  He finally saved up all his winnings and got a full sex change, but then he couldn’t fight in Thailand anymore.  It sounds like they used it as an excuse to bar him from the men’s league.  They also wouldn’t let him fight in the women’s league because it was an unfair advantage, having previously had a penis.  So now she/he fights in Japan, and it’s not really fighting, it’s more of a novelty/pro-wrestling type of gig.  That is the kind of crazy stuff that only happens in Thailand.

After the Muy Thai fight we were both pretty spent, but rallied even though we’d been up since 5AM.  I took Scott to this Irish Pub to quench his hankering for a pint of Guinness.  They had this Thai band playing poppy, American cover songs, I never have my video camera on me for the most hilarious stuff.  Then we went to check out this bar I had read about in some magazines, and talked to some people about called Brick Bar.  Supposedly, a trendy hangout for young Thais hidden underground in the Khaosan area.  We found it and it was a pretty awesome place by any standard.  It was down a staircase under this hotel and barely had a sign.  Once you got in the Thai rock hit you in the face and there were people dancing their asses off everywhere.  We were the only white guys in there, people were high-fiving us, and dancing on the tables and waving their arms in the air.  The place was all brick inside with no windows, and had an air of an old speakeasy.  The energy in there was crazy, it was like everyone was swing dancing, but really badly and didn’t care.  We made our way over through the sea of people to the bar, which was almost as long as the bar at the brew station.  There was one bottle each of about twenty liquors and then about four hundred bottles of Johnny Walker.  I still haven’t figured out why Asians love Johnny Walker so much.  It was some of the best music we have heard on this trip, a cultural experience that we both could appreciate, and Scott was about a foot taller than everyone in there.  Brick Bar, Bangkok, check it out.

So today is our last, we have to go out celebrate the end, but Scott has to be at the airport at 6AM, so it won’t be too late of a night.  I’m lucky, I leave the next day around midnight.  I’m sure it will be a really tame night where we turn in early, since there’s nothing really fun to get into in Bangkok.

The Bangkok Blues

It always sucks to come back to Bangkok.  Mostly because your just stopping through to get transported to somewhere much cooler, literally and figuratively.  I also get this sweet poison ivy/bed bugs/heat rash thing every time I come back through here, which is awesome.  This time however it sucks the worst.  It’s my last stop before my 30 hour flight back to the States.  Not that I’m dreading coming home that much, well I guess I kinda am, but leaving never-never land to go back and start my all-growns-up job search does not sound like the best of times.  But my three month retirement party from bartending had to end at some point, and I guess I have to pay the tab since I wasn’t born a trust-fund baby. 

Of course I have three solid days to kill here in Southeast Asia’s city of angels and I’m still whining like a little girl.  Fitting since Scott and I are going to be skipping gayly around the city doing all of our last minute shopping for our parents and his girlfriend, and my imaginary girlfriend.  Seriously, we are going to hit Lumpini Stadium tonight and sit in the front row for some of the best Muy Thai Boxing in the world.  We’re also going to try and track down some good suishi before skipping town, and go to some trendy Thai bars to get away from the stinky, hippie backpackers and see the other side a bit.  Let’s just hope they take it easy on the techno.  Then Scott’s off to Indo, and I’m off to the bustling metropolis of New Bern, NC to take on my next big adventure, dog sitting.  After a few weeks of that I’ll be ready to start my new business venture, Outer Banks Elephant Treks. 

The Mighty Jungle

We rode an elephant today.  I don’t get to say that very often.  We’ve escaped the party island, spent a night in Surathani, and have arrived in the jungle, our natural habit.  We are staying in the Khao Sok National Forest in Southern Thailand.  It is hot, humid, and sticky. We’ve been wearing the same clothes for days, and haven’t shaved since…I don’t remember.  The monkeys and elephants don’t care, the women might if there were any here.  My plane home leaves in four days, this I am not excited about.  I’ve started having nightmares about real jobs, my cell phone ringing, and grocery stores for some reason.  If this is the last post, you can safely assume I’ve decided to remain in the jungle to live with the animals and hunt tigers, and if you come looking for me bring a straight jacket and tranquilizers. 

Scott and I have rented motorbikes again, he has turned into quite the burly, bearded biker on his 100cc Hello Kitty scooter.  We’ve opted to cruise around town and take in all the sites instead of the seven hour hikes through the park.  They couldn’t guarantee that we’d get attacked by tigers or trampled by elephants so we’ve been cruising and getting in some world-class naps. 

Scott had a birthday, it was awesome.  We got up at sunrise and did yoga and fasted all day, it was great.  The where no pirate ship bars, topless beaches, elephants, motorcycles, or beers involved.

Scott and Dean Chop Off Their Ears

We haven’t had internet in the last two places we’ve stayed, roughing it I guess. In Bangkok, we stayed with Chris at his apartment on the outskirts and saw the city from a locals point of view. The first night we went out with some of his buddies and saw more of the dark and dirty Bangkok nightlife. Hilarious highlights would be Scott riding the mechanical bull, the glass ceiling, and another urban elephant. The next day we went to get some food and headed to Culture One, Bangkok’s first international outdoor dance music festival. It was a pretty big shindig hosted by Bacardi that had four stages all with a rotating line-up of celebrity DJ’s from all over the world. Scott and I pretty much hate techno music, so we spent our time ogling the thai models working for Bacardi, getting foot massages, and chilling in the food court. It was a pretty cool event to go to, lots of beautiful people, and all the VJ’s from the Asian MTV stations, but after nine hours of electronic music, we were wishing we we deaf. The headliner was an American DJ named David Morales who we were looking forward to seeing on the main stage, but by the time he came on we were over it. He ended up crying on stage and telling the crowd he loved them like five times, and said at some point “this is the best night of my life.” We decided that he was super-gay and should be put down with most other Euro DJ’s.

As if we hadn’t had enough, we hopped on the overnight train headed south to get to Koh Phangan for the “Full Moon Party.” We went down to Haad Rin two nights in a row which was two nights too many. We were again spoiled with beatiful women from all over the world, but I can’t say it was worth the price our eardrums had to pay. About ten serious sound systems with different types of DJ’s lined the half-mile long beach. On the second night, the actual full moon, we didn’t even get to the party until 2AM. We figured we’d sneek in late and see the carnage and try to make it until sunrise. And carnage we saw. There was trash everywhere, people passed out all over the beach, a string of guys pissing into the ocean the whole length of the party. People were doing it in the sand, hippies shroomin’ up on the hill, sketchy thai dudes lurking in the shadows offering ecstasy, and pot being openly smoked like it was Amsterdam. Thai hookers came out of the woodwork, drunk guys were going home with ladyboys, and skinny dippers peppered the urine soaked ocean. I imagine five years ago, Scott and I would have gotten hammered and had a blast and spent the night chasing Aussie and Swedish girls, but it really wasn’t our scene. Maybe we’re getting old, who knows? So now that we’ve had our fill of terrible music, we are going to try and escape this island as quickly as possible.

We are going to head further south and off the beaten path and try and get back into the thick of the fun travel and away from the touristy super parties.  Of course, not without motorcycing all over this island first.  We saw bizaaro Travis yesterday, it was this guy that looked just like him except he was really tan and had longer sun-faded hair, much like Travis would have looked if he had come along with us for a month.  You missed out buddy, you really would have enjoyed all the music we hated.

Tearing Up Northern Thailand

Scott and I saddled up again on our monstrous 125cc Hondas to roam the countryside. We headed off towards the Golden Triangle on the Mekong River which is where Thailand, Myanmar, and Laos meet. Before we got there we couldn’t help pulling off into the Hall of Opium. The Hall of Opium is a state of the art museum depicting the history and everything else having to do with this addictive derivative of heroin. No free samples, but still an educational experience worth the stop and all profits support local hill tribes. The most interesting fact to me was how the British controlled most of the opium trading with China, exploiting their addictions to finance their own tea trading. Of course that’s the Thai version of the story, but still. Then it was off to the Golden Triangle. Basically it was a giant Buddha in the middle of the Mekong. The Burma and Laos side were desolate while the Thai side is one of the worst tourist traps in Northern Thailand. It was chock full of giant buses and Japanese tourists, so we took a couple of pics and hit the road. That evening we met Johnny. We were planning on taking a boat trip down the Mekong, but Johnny convinced us that it wasn’t worth the 400 Baht , and that we’d seen the sites already, and offered to take us on a tour himself via motorbike through the mountains. He was drunk when he offered, but we made plans to get up with him in the morning.

Johnny is Thai. His wife runs the restaurant he owns, he has spent a lot of time in London and speaks very good English. There was no charge for this tour he was taking us on which made me wonder if he was going to abduct us, or if we were just so cool he wanted to hang out with us all day. Personally, I think the guy will do just about anything to get out of the restaurant and away from his wife. So we met up with Johnny at the bus station around noon. He had clearly been drinking with three old western guys. One guy’s Thai girlfriend had just ditched him and hopped on a bus somewhere, he didn’t seem too concerned. Johnny slammed the rest of his beer and we were off down the road. Lonely Planet advises that only experienced motorcyclists should ride large dirtbikes up to Doi Tung as the roads are very windy and mountainous. We were on two of the crappiest little scooters in town, Scott having minimal experience, and far and away the drunkest tour guide around.  He took us to a couple hill tribe villages first where we saw how they grow and trade coffee these days instead of opium.  There were still a couple of old timers sitting around chasing the dragon.  We sat at a scenic overlook and Johnny told us about the police and military checkpoints we were going to have to go through.  We had passed through one the previous day with no problem and I asked him if it would be a problem since he was mao (drunk).  He then pulled out a laminated card that read “Special Agent – Tourist Police” with his name and photo.  Mai pen rai – no problem.  Johnny flew down these roads like he’d done them a thousand times drunk, and Scott and I trailed behind on our little bikes that were struggling up the hills.  Better to give Johnny a little distance anyway, right?  These roads really made me wish I had my motorcycle from back home.  More twisty and more scenic than Skyline Drive, and quality roads too.  We made lots of stops, and Johnny had a smoke and a beer at every one.  We rode a couple feet from a Burmese border outpost, and then stopped 50 yards down at a Thai border outpost where Johnny told us that we had just crossed the Myanmar border again.  From the Thai outpost we could see the opium fields on the other side, and we started into some Thai politics when the Army Captain yelled something at Johnny and he hid his beer.  Apparently some members of the Royal Family were coming up the mountain to see the outpost and we passed them on the way out with their police escort and their big, fancy Toyota Landcruiser.  Ah, I miss my truck.

After our military excursion with our own police escort, we went to the Royal Villa and Gardens.  Johnny recommended skipping the Villa as it was expensive and boring, but going to the gardens.  So Scott and I held hands and skipped gayly through the Royal Gardens.  Not really, and we weren’t to keen on the gardens at first, but they were pretty cool as far as gardens go.  We made a brief stop at a Forest Rark which I guess is Thai for Park, and then on to feed some monkeys.  We skipped the last stop, a cave, so that we could make the 5:40 bus back to Bangkok.  So with some abrupt goodbyes and some Baht stuffed into a handshake for some of Johnny’s beers later, we parted ways.  Easily the best tour guide ever, not the safest, but certainly the most fun.  If you’re ever in Mae Sai, stay at Monkey Island, and stick your head in Uncle John’s to find Johnny.  Just try to catch him early, and don’t ride on his bike.

So now we’re back in Bangkok.  Hopefully not for long and then we’re off top the islands.

Scott and Dean go to Burma

Mae Sai is on the Burmese border as far north as you can go in Thailand. The town is not much other than a trading post for all sorts of goods coming from China, Myanmar, and Laos into Thailand. Aside from being the only place in Thailand to purchase XXX DVD’s, you can also find all sorts of gems and most goods cheaper than anywhere else in the country. Elaborate carvings from teak wood, gems, and knockoff watches seem to fill most of the shops.

The guesthouse we are staying in overlooks a narrow river called the Mae Nam Sai and on the other side is Burma. Today we actually went across into Myanmar for the day. Arriving by plane in any foreign country is relatively painless as far as customs and immigration and such go. Overland border crossings are exactly the opposite. I guess my experience is limited to Cambodia and Burma, but regardless – pretty sketchy. Once on the other side you’re fine assuming you don’t get shot or kidnapped and that they let you back through Thai immigration. We circumvented this by not getting our passports stamped. If going into Burma is dangerous then going into Burma without any official documents or stamps has got to be one of the more ballsy things I’ve done. Once on the other side you’re in the knockoff capital of the world. Polo and LaCoste shirts for $5. Either these were the best copies I’ve seen or they were the “out the back door” variety, since most clothing is manufactured in China anyway. I almost bought a North Face jacket with with fleece liner for $45. Again, perfect copy or real thing? Anybody’s guess. Lots of swords and daggers, cigarettes, antlers, handbags, sunglasses, fake legos, Harley Davidson crap, generic viagra, and my favorite, “dirty lady boom-boom.” The people were nice enough and noone seemed like they were going to abduct us, but we were barely across the border. So we spent the day at basically the coolest/sketchiest outdoor mall on the planet, had a Myanmar beer and crossed back. Fun? Yes. Dangerous? Arguable. If we had hopped into a tuk-tuk and headed out into countryside in search of opium and hookers – suicide. But we’re back in home-sweet-Thailand, safe and sound.

I’m starting to understand what the crazy-eyed guy in Siem Reap was about. You travel around and your eyes gradually adjust from popping out of your head back to normal. It takes more and more to shock you or take a second look because it all starts to run together and seem normal. I could see how some have to keep pushing the limits and taking bigger risks just to feel like they saw or felt something. For me, Cambodia was enough, Burma was unnecessary. If you don’t quit while you’re ahead at some point, you’ll just end up moving to Columbia, or applying for work in Iraq.

On a side note, morale is good. Scott and I make great travel companions. We both have showered far more than I thought we would, but it is still early in the trip. The north has been pretty awesome, but we’re both looking forward to getting down to the islands. We’re probably going to meet up with his buddy Lockard in Bangkok, some of Eric’s Peace Corps buds, and maybe even Pok or Mr. Hughes. So plenty of good times to come. Neal, hurry up and sell the Rover so I can stay and go to Indo, a great place to learn to surf.

Scott’s First Days

After a couple crazy Bangkok nights we’ve made it up to Chiang Rai, Thailand.  We are only an hour or so from the golden triangle, which is where Thailand, Burma, and Laos meet.  At least for today we’ve decided not to sneak into Burma illegally to smoke opium with the hill tribes, and instead have turned Scott into a motorcycling waterfall hunter.  From the dirty Bangkok night market to the Northern Thai countryside, it has given me great pleasure to watch Scott’s eyes pop out of his head time and time again.  He’s taken to the food quite well too as some people need the comfort of a cheeseburger, or spend their days on the crapper from one too many Thai chilis.  All in all, the trip is off to a great start and there should be plenty of great pics to post once we’re back in civilization. 

Disclaimer

I know some of the stuff I’ve written can be a little shocking and is probably giving my poor mother an ulcer, so I wanted to make perfectly clear that we’re not running around doing drugs and soliciting prostitutes.  I’m trying to give an accurate portrayal of what I see.  Some people come here for all the seedy things that go on and others come here and don’t see it or avoid it, but I find it all fascinating and can’t help observing like some bizarre car wreck.  So rest easy, we’re being very careful, and at times overly cautious.  It’s more like investigative journalism than anything else.  There won’t be much of that content from here on out as we are headed off the beaten trail and I’m safely out of the dirtiest place on Earth, Cambodia. 

Angkor, Dutch Girls, Etc.

Originally, I had allotted three days at the end of my trip to explore the temples at Angkor.  This plan changed the morning Anthony and I were leaving Sihanoukville.  I woke up to the most beautiful, breezy day and went for one last dip in the ocean.  I suggested that we stay another night, and that the temples will be there for a while, so we stayed.  That evening in Sihanoukville turned out to be one of the most international, cultural evenings I have ever had.  We stayed in this one bar all night that is almost exclusively travelers, and met people from all over the world.  We started off shooting pool with this Irish guy and a Croatian.  They had been smoking opium for a week and popping valiums all day, so we beat them in pool, and then the Croatian kept mumbling “fuck America.”  Then we got destroyed by this little Vietnamese girl who was playing with this French girl.  I don’t know what it is but Asians can shoot some pool.  We talked to these Swiss girls for while, and tried to run some game but failed miserably and ended up sitting with these French-Canadian guys.  One of these guys was telling me about the merengue instructor in Hue, Vietnam that he fell in love with when Paul, the doped-up Irish guy turned back up.  We ended up babysitting the guy from Galway for the rest of the night, which was fine.  You can give an Irish guy a beer and just put them in a corner, and they usually don’t stray to far.  Sometimes the Cambodian hookers would pay him a little too much attention, but I just told them that he didn’t have any more money and they took off.  I played some cards with some Israeli guys for a while who had just gotten out of the army.  They taught me a game called Yanev, which was like Uno with regular cards.  I talked to this old German guy for a while about his travels in India, but I thought he was gay so I didn’t sit there too long.  The night went on and on like this, everyboby I met was from some other corner of the world and had been somewhere really interesting.  Oh yeah and they were all drunk or on drugs.  At least they were interesting.  We ended the night in this other bar called Utopia where Anthony was trying his damnedest with these two British girls.  I ran into the French-Canadians again and played pool with them and this Cambodian Hooker.  Don’t play Cambodian hookers for money, I think they spend all they’re free time shooting pool.  It was funny to watch the evening progress, watching all the families go home after dinner, the backpackers coming out around ten and filling the bar, and then at midnight, the working girls show up.  If you didn’t know any better, you’d think “wow, there are a lot of pretty Cambodian girls here.”  But look a little closer and it gets ugly fast.  We left there the next day.  Sihanoukville has some of the nicest, isolated beaches I’ve seen, and some of the dirtiest places. 

We got on the bikes back to Kampot the next day, still absorbing the crazy night before.  The rides to me are the best part, you get covered and dust and you can smell all the crazy smells a lot better than looking out the window of a bus.  We stopped in a couple villages and took some pictures and played with the kids, made it back to Kampot, turned in the bikes, and went for dinner.  We had dinner with these Canadian girls, one of which was living in Phnom Penh.  Dinner was fun, mostly because of my expertise in making fun of Canadians.  It was some sort of Cambodian holiday and we had a good view of all the festivities from our balcony on the traffic circle.  We had a long day on two buses the next day to Siem Reap, so we turned in early.

The first bus was not to exciting, but on the second bus we met all sorts of people.  Here we are sitting on this bus waiting for it to leave when about 15 gorgeous girls get on.  So the two of us, 5 or 6 Cambodians, and a bunch of hot blonds with a few brunets peppered in all on a bus for four hours.  They ended up being with some mission group from Scandinavia headed to Siem Reap to volunteer in an orphanage.  It was better entertainment than the usual karaoke they play on the buses.  We also met these two Dutch girls that had just come from Laos and teamed up with them to find a guesthouse in Siem Reap.  We found a place and made plans to split a tuk-tuk with them to go to the temples the next day.  Anthony and I went out for some food and ended up talking to these girls for a while.  They were both really funny, one from Maine and the other from Ireland.  I could have listened to the Irish girl talk all day, her accent was so sweet I think I fell in love with her.  We parted ways and ambled around town for a while.  Siem Reap is far more touristy than the other places I’ve been.

The next day we headed out with our Dutch dates to see the mighty temples of Angkor.  These temples are amazing, awe-inspiring, huge, ancient wondrous sights.  You know what would make them better?  If there weren’t mobs of Japanese tourists everywhere lining up for photo ops, beggars everywhere, and little kids aggressively selling crap around every corner.  I’d go back to Angkor to see some of the far away temples that are less traveled, or if I got a private tour, but trying to appreciate ancient ruins and architecture is impossible in that circus.  It was a lot of fun with Anthony and the Dutch girls, but one day was enough.  There is no need to spend three days or a week doing nothing but extreme templing.  We ended up having dinner and going out later with the Dutch girls, I even danced.  A very long, successful day in Cambodia.  Tomorrow, I head back to Bangkok.  I’m not looking forward to the trip as I have to go back through Poipet, the dirtiest part of a very dirty country, but it’ll be good to make it back into Thailand.  I’ll get back and meet up with Jon Conrad for another hookah in Little Lebanon, then I’m off to the airport to get Scott.  I imagine I’ll have a hard time keeping up with Scott.  But it’ll be an adventure, and I’ll just let him spin off like the Tasmanian devil on his own when he wears me out.  Another Journey comes to a close and another one begins.  I could see how this cycle could get addictive.  I wonder how much I could get for everything in my storage unit?

Cambodian Coastline

The past four days or so I feel like I’ve seen the Cambodia I came to see. Phnom Penh is a dirty place, but the coastline is a different world. Leaving Phnom Penh early in the morning I met an Australian guy named Anthony on the bus who was headed to Kampot as well and also was interested in doing some motorbiking. When we arrived in Kampot neither of us were impressed, so we rented some motorbikes and headed for Kep. Kep is a tiny little beach town of about 4000 people and more of a Cambodian vacation spot. It was New Year’s Eve so there were no rooms in any of the guesthouses. We ended up finding one room with two beds and doubled up. New Year’s in Kep was by far one of the most low-key I have ever had. We drove around on the motorbikes looking for any kind of party, but there were none. I knew it would be slow, but not this slow. It was relaxing and I had no desire to spend the holiday in Phnom Penh or Sihanoukville from what I’d heard of the place.

The next morning we hit the road on the bikes. By now I had told Anthony of my plans to ride the coastline and see the countryside. He had no experience on a bike before the previous day, but I agreed to help him and we’d take it slow, and it is also a lot safer to have someone with me on these 200km rides. Especially in Cambodia. We headed for Sihanoukville, a port city and beach town that is the third largest city in Cambodia, I think. The ride was fun, as the road was good, and it took a lot less time than I thought it would. Both of us were eager to get somewhere where there was more going on after our holiday in Kep.

Sihanoukville has everything from a Ramada, to backpacker districts and guesthouses, and where we are staying which is called Otres Beach. Otres is 5km north of town where there is nothing but a few small bungalows. Paris Otres, our guesthouse, only has power from a generator a few hours in the evening, mosquito nets, and very primitive bathrooms. It is, however, very cheap and my room is 15 yards from the ocean. It is sad in the evewning when they cut the generator and my fan dies, but then you can clearly hear the ocean. Being lulled to sleep by the ocean the past few evenings has been a real treat, even if I had to sacrifice my fan.

Serendipity beach is the main drag. The beach runs for about a mile with seafood restaurants right on the beach with candlelight, cushioned wicker papa-san chairs, and delicious seafood BBQ’s. There are some beggars, handicapped and children, you can smell people smoking weed everywhere, and you do see the occasional western guy with a very young Cambodian girl, but even with all this it is a very cool place. Anthony and I had a beer and shot some pool, cruised the beach for a while, and then headed back to our bungalow. The road back is much more difficult in the dark, and only accessible by motorbike, and when we arrived the generators were already shut down. We grabbed the headlamp and walked down the beach towards a few of the places that still had some lights on. We ended up chatting with two German couples that were very nice, and made plans with the four of them to hire a boat the next day and go on an expedition. The next day was really a fun, relaxing time. We got to snorkel and fish, had a grilled barracuda lunch on an island, and a good dose of sunburn. Later in the evening we gave one of the couples a ride into town on our motorbikes, and had a huge seafood BBQ of shrimp, squid, clams, mussels, 2 types of fish, and all the fixings. To satisfy us all with full bellies of fresh seafood, beer, wine, and coffee cost $8 each.

All of our German friends left today, but we may run into them in Siem Reap. And Anthony wants to go to the Angkor temples next as well, so I might have a partner in crime for the rest of my trip in Cambodia. He is a school teacher in Australia and a professional videographer, so he got a kick out of my helmet cam. But he is a very nice, intelligent fellow, who has also had some recent, tragic, woman problems, so we make a good team and I’m happy to continue with him to the temples.

Cambodia, to me, is a very polar place. A place of extremes with no middle ground. It can be very seedy and dirty, or beautiful and peaceful. The people are very young here or they are survivors of genocide. There is a hustle and corruption on every level, but the majority of the people are wonderful. The food has been delicious, and the countryside makes for pleasant travel. I’ve hated certain parts of the country, but adore others. It is a country where you can lounge around on a secluded beach and not see a soul, or get stoned and shoot automatic weapons at farm animals with a bunch of hookers from go-karts. It’s a young country that’s new to tourism, but has some of the oldest ruins in the world. It’s just what I expected in a lot of ways, and not at all in other respects. You can tell that it won’t be like this for long, development has started in a lot of places, and as the government becomes more stable, more foreign money will pour into this country. Which will be both good for Cambodia and tragic.

My scabs are almost gone. The saltwater has been good for them, and they would have fallen off sooner if they hadn’t been so intricately woven into my leg hair. Without sounding like some retarded gypsy, this trip has been healing in a lot of ways.

Guns, Go-Karts, and Genocide

That sums up my day here in Phnom Penh. Ani, my driver, picked me up at 9am and took me to the shooting range. I didn’t kill any livestock, but it was fun to shoot an AK-47. At a dollar a bullet, I didn’t stay long and I’m pretty sure that’s about the fastest way to spend money in Asia. Afterwards, we headed to the Go-Kart track where the karts were unusually fast and you have to pay extra for safety. Both were a lot of fun, relatively expensive for over here, and rang of the exploitation of a poverty-stricken nation.

I’ve decided to stay the night and catch the early bus instead of dirt biking down to Kampot. I’ve heard a couple stories of police harassment once you get out of Phnom Penh, and I’ll be traveling solo, and Bangkok is the closest decent hospital. So I’ll wait until I get down there to rent a bike. This decision freed up the afternoon to knock out all the cultural stuff so I don’t have to come back here on my way back to Siem Reap. Although riding around during the day changed my perspective a bit on this Cambodian capital, it’s still a dirty place that I’d rather not come back to.

After the go-karts, Ani took me to the killing fields, an execution camp outside of Phnom Penh where 10,000 Cambodians were murdered and buried in mass graves. And then to S-21, a school that was turned into a prison and concentration camp. Pol Pot almost everyone in this country that had any sort of education or skill, even his own soldiers. If you were educated, upper-class, and Cambodian in the late 1970’s then you were executed. If you wore glasses, you were viewed as intelligent or rich enough to afford them so you were killed. I’m glad I went to the range and track earlier in the day because I don’t think I would have wanted to after the genocide tour. Ani was telling me that is why Cambodia is so young, because they killed a whole generation. Afterwards he dropped me off at the Royal Palace/Silver Pagoda where I paid and thanked him. He was a good driver who didn’t push drugs or hookers which is unusual for those guys. From the Palace I walked to the National Museum. On the way, a monk shook me down for a dollar and my e-mail for some reason, I guess we’ll see about that. On the whole, a full day with a little bit of everything. Except the Girls and Ganja.

I was thinking about the Tech guy today.  He had this crazy look in his eye like his mind had been blown a long time ago.  I guess two years in this mess will do that to you, who knows but I don’t think I could go back to being a normal, functioning member of society after spending that much time over here.  There was seriously a “Heart of Darkness” look about him.  I guess over-stimulation can be scarring.  Friends don’t let friends disappear in Asia.

I’m looking forward to getting down south where it is a little bit more chill, this city is too crazy to be sticking around for New Year’s Eve.  I feel like I’ve seen enough crazy stuff for a while, Cambodia will do that to you (quickly).

A Day in Cambodia

I’ve been here about 24 hours and already made it most of the way across the country. My plan is to race down to the coast for New Year’s and then work my way back to Bangkok right before Scott arrives, saving most of the cultural, historical, temple stuff for the end. I would hate to run out of time and still not have slain a water buffalo or rolled a go-kart. So tomorrow I’m having my driver pick me up at 9am to take me to the shooting range and the track, then pick up my bike and head to the southern beaches. It’s only 100 miles to Kampot, but with the roads as shitty as they are here it could take all day.

Cambodia, I can tell already, is not as dangerous as people think. The rumors do tend to scare off the riff-raff though. The travelers tend to be more interesting and stick together a little more than anywhere else I’ve been. I shared a taxi with three Aussies from the border town of Poipet, which appropriately rhymes with toilet since it is a dirty, scam-ridden place, but everybody says that it is the worst part of Cambodia, and I agree so far. I met one of the Aussies on the bus from Bangkok, and we teamed up with two more guys at the cab place. The other two Aussies resembled the “Flight of the Concords” guys, including a miniature guitar. That’s probably a huge insult to some Aussies since the Concords are from New Zealand, but I still kept waiting for them to break into “Business Time.” I got out of Poipet without falling for any of the scams, except the exchange. I only had Thai Baht after running all over Bangkok trying to get US Dollars. So they got a couple bucks off me using terrible rates that I knowingly paid just in case I couldn’t get into a bank, or use the baht. Of course I got to Siem Reap and the bank was still open, and they had an ATM that dispensed US Dollars. I knew beforehand that they used US currency in Cambodia, but to see $20s and $50s spitting out of an ATM was still bizarre.

I had dinner with a Danish male psychiatric nurse named Stig who was really friendly and drunk, but gave me a sweet book about Angkor Wat. In exchange, I bought him a beer and another pack of Marlboro Reds, which together set me back $2. At breakfast this morning my UVA hat red-flagged me to a hokie. This was the first hokie I have ever met that didn’t have anything smart to say about our recent loss to Tech, in fact he didn’t even know the game had been played. He had been traveling for over two years, including a teaching gig in Taiwan. He was from Virginia too, and headed back to States soon for his brother’s wedding, and not looking forward to it. We talked about his month in Burma, China and India taking over the world, and the culture shock waiting for us when we go back home. When the bus from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh stopped this afternoon for lunch I was approached by a Californian guy who was currently living in the Phillipines. He was a huge, bald, tattooed fellow who was scary enough to keep the begging children at bay. So we talked about how many drugs are in Cambodia and I wasn’t bothered by any more 6-year-old pick-pockets. He invited me back to his guesthouse in Phnom Penh to smoke a joint, but I respectfully declined. Starting a drug habit in a foreign land with someone who looks like a criminal didn’t sound like the best idea. Weed is everywhere, they don’t even try to hide it. There are pizza places that’ll sprinkle it on your meat-lovers or Hawaiian, or put it in a happy shake for you. I’ve heard of them doing the same with mushrooms, and I’ve had a couple offers for opium too. Other than people on serious drugs with automatic weapons, this place is just as safe as Vietnam or Thailand. At least they are all friendly.

It is beautiful place with nice people, delicious food, and no rules. Whatever you require for your vacation they are more than willing to provide at economy prices. It is kind of like the wild west, except with British families running around, and children everywhere. The poorest, dirtiest children I’ve ever seen laughing and dancing in the street, probably because nobody is making them go to school.

Christmas in Bangkok

For a Buddhist country, they love Christmas here.  The Thai people go nuts over it.  Santa Claus hats everywhere and everyone wishing you a “Merry Christmas.”  Much like Thanksgiving, Christmas was about as non-traditional as it could get, but still packed with fun in this sweltering city that is starting to grow on me.  On Christmas Eve, Michael and I had an early dinner at this Indian restaurant where we gorged ourselves enough to necessitate a nap.  Then we met up with my old friend from O’neill’s, Jon Conrad.  Jon grew up in Thailand, his mother is Vietnamese and his father American, and he is currently the head coach of the Virginia Tech Rugby team, but home for Christmas break in Bangkok.  Needless to say his usually large size in this country and flawless Thai made for an excellent tour guide.  Jon took us to a restaurant called Al-Hussein’s in an area of Bangkok called Little Arabia, formerly Little Lebanon until the Pakistani’s took over town during the gulf war.  Bangkok is full of these sections of town that virtually teleport you to another part of the world like Little India, Little Italy, Chinatown, and the Japanese Section.  While we didn’t eat at Hussein’s, we did sit and enjoy some apple flavored sheesha tobacco out of a hookah.  Jon, who was a regular at the place, claimed that in all his travels and sheesha smoking, that Hussein’s has the best, and it was delicious with my super-strong Arabian coffee.  It was really an experience to sit there absorbing a culture within a culture that probably wouldn’t be so safe for two white guys without Jon, and having him there to answer our never ending line of questions.  Also, Jon informed us that it was much safer and quieter because of the giant drug sting the previous evening.  Next we hopped into a cab and headed to a place called Noriega’s.  Noriega’s is located in the night market/hooker district called Patpong, tucked at the end of an alley that belongs to the gays.  Again, I would not have felt safe without a lead blocker, and Noriega’s was really a cool place in a truly bizarre part of town.  Good live music, a cool outdoor patio, and world-class people watching were a perfect location for our discussions of Thai and world politics.  Noriega, a giant Brazilian man with a pony tail, came and said hello to Jon in VIP fashion, and then Jon told us that there were some very suspicious tales surrounding Noriega’s acquisition of the bar.  Apparently, Noriega had a contract put out on the previous owner, and then negotiated with the widow for the sale of the place.  It was eerily quiet there and Jon said that it always was and that the place must be a front for some sort of illegal business.  We parted ways with Jon and took the long way back through Patpong to laugh at the clusters of Thai hookers in their Santa Claus hats.  The night market is the kind of place that you stroll through laughing hysterically at ladyboys, hookers, and knockoff handbags and then run smack into an elephant.  Truly a spectacular carnival for grown-ups.  My eyes were tired from all the sights by the end of the night and my jaws are still sore from laughing so much. 

Christmas morning was groggy one, it took a couple of coffees to get me out of the haze, while still absorbing everything from the night before.  We spent the morning chilling on Michael’s balcony contemplating how to spend our last two days of the trip, and reliving the laughs from the past month.  We made plans to go to the Japanese part of town, meet up with Jon again, and have a sick sushi dinner for Christmas.  Our cabbie to little Japan took us for a ride that took nearly an hour and was over twice as much as it should be, but still only four dollars.  We never found Jon, due to us arriving late and phone problems on both our parts, and finally sat down for dinner at nearly 11pm.  The place we chose was about to close and nobody spoke any english, but was none the less a great Christmas dinner and a good close to the trip.  A full belly, a beer, and a little bit of sake was enough to put us both down soon after. 

Mad props to Jon for showing us some great and hilarious spots in Bangkok.  And even more to Michael for picking up way too many checks while here, being an epic partner in crime, and making me laugh more this trip than I have in years.  Have fun in Maui and give Maryanne a hug for me.

I’ve downsized yet again.  I decided to stash the $350 bag I brought with me in the hotel locker and have purchased a much smaller Lowe-Alpine knockoff for $30.  The smaller pack will enable me to carry everything on a dirtbike in Cambodia and hopefully make everything more streamlined and mobile.  Anything that hasn’t been used in a week has been ditched including half my clothes, cologne, small pack, fleece, and other unnecessary material possesions.  By the time Scott gets here I’ll be traveling in a moo-moo with only flip-flops and a manpurse.  I was supposed to leave for Cambodia this morning, but caught a bad case of lazy, and I will leave tomorrow at 5am.  It’ll give me more time to research, prepare, and change money, etc.  It’ll be hard to top the past month, but I get the feeling Cambodia is going to be mind-blowing. Happy Holidays.

Where Does The Time Go?

The wind never came to Thung Wua Laen.  The kite school packed up and moved to Phuket.  Michael didn’t get any more epic days and took no more lessons.  We were faced with some serious decision making.  Go right back to Koh Phangan and party and ride dirtbikes, which is what Scott and I are going to be doing for a while.  Choice 2: stay in Thung Wua Laen, hope some wind appears, and chill out before Michael has to go back to Bangkok.  Choice 3: Go back to Bangkok early for some smog and a solid week of shopping.  And Choice 4: chase the wind to Vietnam, Brazil, Egypt, etc. like Tony, the Swedes, and James Bean.  Which wasn’t really an option because of time.  So we stayed in Thung Wua Laen.

What did you guys do in Thung Wua Laen for 4 days with no wind, no girls, no bars, and 5 restaurants?  We redefined the word lazy.  It was like a spa for heterosexual, lazy, american males.  With the exception of one super motorbike, exploration, adventure day filled with caves, coastline, buddhas, bikes, and beers, we lounged around in all our sloth glory and took the art of relaxation to an entire new level.  It was a rigorous schedule that started with wake-up call at noon, followed by a 2-hour beach front breakfast.  We would then walk next door and sprawl in the sun until we got so burned we would retreat to the hammocks and lounge around until hunger struck again.  Little carts would stop right next to our hammocks and sell us fruit, meat on a stick, or even ice cream.  You might think that doing this for 3 or 4 days would get old, but you’re wrong.  There was lots to watch between the Thai weekenders, dogs, coconut monkeys, unsuccessful kite launchers, and the town was so small that you literally saw the whole town cruise by at some point from your hammock perch.  By the end we were celebrities, the villagers loved us, we were the two most relaxed people on Earth, the end. 

They will remember us there, but trip presses on.  We’re back in Bangkok again.  Michael is getting ready for Maui, and I’m figuring out how to navigate Cambodia.  Gearing up for our divergent next chapters.  He’ll be kiting the most beautiful island in the world with his girl, and I’ll be avoiding landmines via dirtbike doing some real Indiana Jones shit. 

Chicks Dig Scars, Not Gaping Wounds

We’re back in Thung Wua Laen, caught the boat this morning from Koh Phangan.  Our trip there was very diferent from the last one, much more tame, but somehow left more scars.  I wonder at what point I became no longer indestructable.  The wounds are healing, though disgusting looking, and I’m sure I’ll have some nasty scars.  You’d think the motorbike renter would’ve cut me a break, but he hosed me for every scratch even with the dirty Mexican rocking his negotiating skills.  It makes me feel old to leave the biggest party island on the planet all beat up and wounded, especially having not partied at all.   It’s also the halfway point on the trip.  Everybody thought I was crazy for booking a ticket for three months, and now I can’t believe it’s half over.  We’re going to be spending Christmas in Bangkok, my guess is that they’ll be serving a turkey dinner somewhere.  Then Michael is off to Maui for more kiting, his boy’s wedding, and his lady.  I’ll just be killing time and farm animals in Cambodia waiting for Scotty to get here.  I don’t know what I’m going to do for New Years yet.  I’ve heard about some cool beaches in Cambodia I think I might try to hit, but who knows.  Hopefully I won’t look like a leper by then. 

The Leper Gets Some Tattoos

The wind died in Thung Wua Laen so we decided to take a little excursion over to the islands until it picks back up for kiteboarding.  We skipped right over Koh Tao since neither of us felt like diving and we spent a lot of time there on the last trip.  So we’ve ended up on Koh Phangan, the beach party capital of the world, to get into some serious dirtbiking.  Right off the boat we found some sweet Honda 250s and an awesome little guesthouse on the quiet side of the island near Thong Sala.  This place looks nothing like I remember, not because it has changed so much, but I was hammered the one night I spent over here for New Years 03.   

I got some tattoos yesterday.  Four of them.  They call them Koh Phangan tattoos.  It’s when you have a motorcycle accident resulting in bloody roadrash.  The moto-mishap wasn’t a very bad accident, but the bike fell on me wrong and scratched up my foot, knee, and elbow pretty good.  The worst part though was the exhaust burn on my right leg.  I would post pictures but it’s pretty nasty and would scare my mom.  Other than that, the motorcycling has been awesome.  Lots of fun roads and beatiful beaches.  

Koh Phangan, I’ve decided, gets a pretty bad wrap.  It’s international full moon party reputation overshadows the rest of what this island has to offer.  It’s the wrong time of the month for the full moon and the whole island is deserted, and this is peak season.  This month the full moon is on Christmas and the whole week between Christmas and New Years is supposed to be one huge party.  I’ll either be in Bangkok or Cambodia, but will probably be back here with Scott in January for the festivities.  Some of the prettiest beaches in the world are on this island, and far away from the chaos of Haad Rin.  This would be a great place to bring my girl.  She would love playing in the water, all the great food, running around, ad barking at all the other dogs.  Kramer would love it here. 

The skin on my back has started coming off in sheets from the sunburn.  So with all my skin falling off and my gaping wounds I am officially known as the “leper.”  The wounds also make showering difficult and my hair is getting crazier by the day, so I really am starting to resemble this crazy leper. 

In other news, the dirty Mexican and I figured out how to link the PSPs and play Grand Theft Auto against each other.  Some we spend our free time killing each other with rocket launchers and grenades and such.

Thung Wua Laen Beach Arrives

An internet cafe opened this weekend here.  The speed is somewhat slow but it upped the computer count in this town from 3 to 15.  The Thai kids sit around all afternoon and play video games, and laugh at me when they see I’m uploading pictures of their town.

Crouching Tiger Squatting Shannon

Well you all should be glad that there are only 3 computers in this town and that I can’ t upload pictures on any of them because they would really just piss you off.  Empty beaches, beautiful sunrises, and it would really be quite romantic if I wasn’t traveling with the beaner.   I’ve taken some great pics but you’ll just have to wait until we’re back in civilization to see them. 

I started taking kiteboarding lessons the other day.  My instructor is this French guy who is pretty cool, and pretty badass at all the kiting stuff.  I think I’ve finally placed why I want to learn this sport after thinking about it for a while.  After you’ve hit the intermediate level is when you start jumping.  But not like snowboarding or wakeboarding where you are launching and crashing back down.  It’s more like crouching tiger hidden dragon where they are flying from bamboo to bamboo.  Slower, graceful launches and landings.  So I think the appeal of the sport is this crazy flying fetish I have or something.  We’ll see if it sticks after I swallow a couple more gallons of salt water.  If you’re not into the kite thing then there is not much else to do in this little town.  I guess if you were a girl you could just lay out all day, reading and watching all the buff kiter dudes, like my French instructor who I’m sure is a lady-killer in civilization.  We’ve already eaten at all 8 restaurants, and have met pretty much everybody that lives in the town.  And have met some other travellers as well, including the terrible Canadian girls, and the obnoxious old scotch drinker.  I’ve been taking the kiting lessons with the Dutch sisters but I think they left today.  Michael has been under the weather for a couple days with some sort of flu, and I almost vomited the other night after dinner.  Both of us have been physically exerting ourselves, getting sunburned bad, not drinking enough water, and eating ridiculously spicy food.  But now we’re feeling healthy and adventurous again and will resume our crazy Asian bamboo flying.  In other news, we finally got separate rooms so you guys can stop with the brokeback jokes.  The new rooms lack the amenities of the cottage we were in before like a mini-fridge and hot shower, but do include a feature that the more expensive room didn’t have.  That’s right – a traditional Thai squat toilet.  It is amazing that I have avoided them for this long, but the inevitable came today after 2 cups of coffee at breakfast.  I won’t gross you out with the details, but if you were a fly on the wall you would’ve been amused.  The dirty beaner certainly got a laugh or two out of it.

Not much else to report.  Life is simple, the food is good.  We found some pizza last night for dinner.  We’ve been going to bed early, and really relaxing when we’re not out on the water.  It is very easy to pass the time here and I can really see how some people get stuck here for months.  Like our Dutch neighbor Tony.  What more do you really need than a beautiful beach, a sport you’re into, good food, and your Thai girlfriend to launch your kite for you.  

Happy Birthday King of Thailand

So the whole time I’ve been over here I’ve noticed that everyone is wearing yellow.  Now it’s the national color, but still it was like a country-wide, month long ordeal.  Then we find out that it’s the lead up to the King’s birthday.  And in case you didn’t know, he’s kind of a big deal.  The people of Thailand love their King like nothing you’ve ever seen.  Every home and business has at least one picture of the King, some have many, and the pictures can get as big as two stories at some businesses.  Speaking ill of him will get you tossed out of a cab, or assalted by the normally unaggressive Thais.  When you see a movie in Bangkok, you must rise in “pledge of allegiance fashion” before the movie begins.  Bangkok was getting ready for a party too.  Parades, lights, fireworks, all in honor of the King’s 80th birthday.  When we arrived at this tiny little beach town, we came across the finish line for a foot race in honor of the King’s birthday.  Everyone is rocking their yellow shirts everywhere for the celebration.  Michael and I are even searching for shirts of our own to join the festivities.  It’s crazy to me that the whole country stands still for this occasion, but in the U.S. it wouldn’t even get a blip on a CNN ticker. 

Midnight Train to Sunburn

The Mexican arrived a day late, as Mexicans do.  We had a mix up on the date he was to arrive, but it didn’t matter since I ended up talking to this cool british chick named Charlie until sunrise.  I figured I had the wrong night and that he would be there tomorrow, so the next night I went down to the lobby of the trusty old Sawasdee House to wait for him to roll in found out he had already checked in, but they couldn’t give him my room number.  So after checking his room I went out to Khaosan Road to track his ass down and where was he? Standing in the street mashing some satays.  Dirty Mexican.

After a day of cruising the streets of Bangkok we were ready to get some sun and salt air and find some slow little Thai town to relax.  This is exactly what we found in Hat Thung Wae Laen.  We really lucked out on this place.  A tiny little village with just a handful of backpackers, and some of the best kiteboarding in the world.  I’m already signed up to the three day course, and Michael has already got a sweet session in this afternoon.  Plus it’s only a two-hour catamaran ride to the biggest party island on the planet.  So we’ll chill here for a week and when we get the urge to go throw down a little we’re not far from Koh Phangan. 

My memory card definately had a virus.  I have a spare and already have some good pics on it, but all my pictures from Nha Trang and Saigon were lost.  No huge deal, I’m lucky I had uploaded the rest onto flickr.  So now I’ll have to be a little more careful about uploading stuff and figure out how to format the old card so it can be used.  So, more pics to come soon. 

It has been awesome already to have a partner in crime for the adventure.  Michael and I have already laughed more than any human should in three days, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to end any time soon.  There was only one room left when we got to town, and we had to wait until sunrise for that, so the mexican and I are bunked up in the same room temporarily, until another one opens up.  Which didn’t bother either of us until we found the denim, western-style, brokeback mountain shirt on the porch.  We’ve already acquired motorbikes, and checked out the surrounding area a bit, and I think this place will do just fine until another adventure beckons.

Chapter 2: Mexican Compadre Arrives

I’m back in Bangkok now, home sweet Khaosan Road, killing time before Michael gets here.  That’s right, my old Mexican friend Miguel is rolling in around midnight to join the adventure, and our plans are to head south for some good old-fashioned R&R, right after we fill him up on Bangkok street food.  Those Mexicans love eating off the street.  Of course R&R to Michael means a half-marathon at dawn followed by weight training, then a variety of watersports, skip lunch, cycling until dinner.  Just kidding, but there is a reason that on our last trip together I lost 15 pounds and he gained 15. 

Vietnam was sweet.  I don’t think you can do two weeks in many countries these days for less than $400.  I should have gone for three or four weeks and really seen everything and everywhere I wanted to.  But still, a beautiful country considering how many bombs we dropped on it.  It also amazing we didn’t win that war.  With all the French influence from their century long occupation you’d think they would have surrendered.  It was truly an educational and cultural experience to spend time there and I think I’ll definitely go back when I get fired from my next job.  Of course next time I’ll have it all dialed in, so if anybody needs a guide, I’m cheap.

My trip has been given new purpose after talking to an Australian kid on my last night in Saigon.  We were talking about Cambodia, and I was telling him how everybody in the States thinks I’m crazy for spending three months in Asia, and wanting to see Cambodia.  He had been traveling for 9 months and had spent a month in Cambodia.  He enlightened me to two activities that really shouldn’t be missed while there, but aren’t in the lonely planet books.  Child prostitution and opium dens.  Just kidding.  First, he was telling me about the go-kart track.  It was one of the best in the world, he said claiming that he’d been to many.  It was really cheap and a huge track.  But what sounded like even more fun was the shooting range.  Here is one of the only places on Earth that you can fire an AK-47, an M-16, and an M-60 all in the same day for as long as you want pay for ammo.  For $15 you can toss a Chinese grenade into a lake.  They have sniper rifles and uzis and a whole assortment of any gun you can think of.  But here is the kicker, for $200 you can fire a shoulder mounted grenade launcher.  I asked him why it cost so much, and he replied, “because you have to blow something up, it’s to pay for the water buffalo.”  Who is such a barbarian that they would want to go shoot and destroy things all day? This guy. Now I doubt I’ll be disintegrating any water buffalo, but playing Rambo for a day is mandatory on the global ass-kicking checklist.  Now if they let me fire an uzi from the back of a dirtbike I might never come back.  And coincidentally the best dirtbiking in Asia is in Cambodia.  So it looks like now that the educational, cultural, and historical mumbo-jumbo is out of the way, we can press on to the meat of the trip.  Beach lounging, motorsports, and firearms.  And people asked why I was going to Asia, silly question.

More pics to come after I get the virus off my memory card. That’s what you get for sticking yuor little thingy where lots of other thingys have been. 

Saigon Sensimilla

It’s my last night here in Vietnam in the city of Saigon. If you are North Vietnamese, Communist, or a government official you call it Ho Chi Minh City, but everybody else calls it Saigon.  Almost in defiance.  Again, I wish I had more time in this country for all the same reasons as before.  Saigon seems to be much more alive than the other places I’ve been to in Vietnam.  It’s the largest city in the country and the commercial and industrial capital, but there is something else to it as well.  It must be the weed.  I haven’t smoked any, but not because it is not around.  The marijuana flows in Saigon like the massages in Nha Trang, everyone is trying to push it on you.  When you get off the bus in these cities there is always a group of Vietnamese hocking just about anything you can think of right there.  “You want hotel, my hotel best”, “motorbike”, “you buy book”, and “marijuana” said under the breath like the sticker guys at phish shows.  I laughed out loud the first time, but then was offered “marijuana” by about 30 people just on my walk around the block.  This is especially funny since it had not happened a single time prior on my entire trip in either Thailand or Vietnam.  Now I’m guessing half the time it’s a scam, or oregano, but there’s got to be some available if everyone is hocking it.  And I mean everyone, first it was the motorbike brigade, then the old ladies selling books, then this little kid selling gum offered me marijuana.  I’ve never been to Jamaica, but I imagine it must be like Saigon.  Everybody is slinging dope, just like Biggie. 

You can tell Saigon is more liberal.  There is this feeling as you go south through Vietnam that things are loosening up.  I’m sure this is due to the communist concentration in the north, and then less and less as you venture towards Saigon which is a $6 bus ride from Cambodia.  Which is probably where the drugs come from.  I know it’s not the drugs, but Saigon has an energy that I wish I had more time to absorb.  And I really wanted to go see the Cu Chi tunnels.  This city stays up late, like sunrise, where Hanoi had a city-wide curfew.  And you’ll be happy to hear that this is the official motorbike capital of the world.  I wish you could walk outside in the states and hop on the back of a scooter, and go anywhere in town for $.50.  It would have been really interesting to see this city before the scooter replaced the bicycle, when bicycles were everywhere.  I still haven’t ridden in a cyclo, it doesn’t really appeal to me, but probably a good way to sight-see.  

Today I went to Reunification Palace.  This was headquarters for South Vietnam until Northern tanks busted open the gates in 1975.  I guess I was expecting another ancient building, but this place was just the opposite.  A perfect example of 1960’s architecture, and inside the place was like a time capsule from 1975.  This was also the presidential palace and there was a whole floor where he and his family used to live.  It was like being in a Bond film.  The presidential quarters were pretty swank, including a film room, pool table, a bar, and furniture from Austin Powers.  And an evil lair, that’s right, a basement command center.  I leave tomorrow, so now I’m going to go out and eat like a big, fat, American and prove a bunch of stereotypes right.

Nha Trang

The sun finally came out today which is better than getting caught in a typhoon like I thought was going to happen in this beach city of Nha Trang.  I really didn’t sleep well on the sleeper bus here. The bunks on those buses are really nice and clean, but very narrow.  I can’t imagine how I would have fit in one before I lost a bunch of weight. It would have been funny to watch.  But still the skinnier Dean had some trouble too, and the worst part was waking up in the middle of the night about to fall out of the bunk.  This happened about a dozen times.  So when I got to Nha Trang I opted to stay in the hotel where they dropped us off.  It was raining and the rooms were $6, sold. I slept most of the afternoon, woke up to eat some Korean food for dinner, walked around for a while, fell asleep to some terrible movie and woke up to Brokeback Mountain, which was quickly turned off, and slept in the next day.  I woke up to beautiful weather for a change, rented another scooter, and off I went.  Some sun, a scooter, and some scenery will make all the difference in the morale of a one-man expedition.  I’ve been on a foreign food kick, having tried just about everything Vietnamese, I’ve branched out to Indian and Korean, but still avoiding all western food for as long as possible. I imagine I’ll have some Outback or something around Christmas. I’ve also gotten addicted to Vietnamese coffee, it’s like a six-pack of red bull packed into a tiny little mug.
I’ve come to the conclusion that two weeks is not nearly enough time to see this country. I should have allotted a month, but that would have severely cut in to my time in Pai, so I think I did the right thing. There are some places that I wanted to see, but couldn’t really fit in. And some places that I would have spent more time in. I guess I’ll just write it off to a scouting expedition, and when I get back home and ebay everything I own to finance a longer trip, I’ll allot more time then. I’ve only got three more days in Vietnam, and still am quite comfortable with my amble of a pace south so there’s alot that will be saved for next time. Nha Trang has to be the tourist capital of Vietnam, as well as the massage capital. Everyone is trying to get you to have a massage. I overheard these two girls in Hue asking the hotel girl where they could get a massage, and the hotel girl telling them they could get a real massage in Hanoi or Saigon, but everywhere else in Vietnam, massages include happy ending. And Nha Trang seems to be littered with these places. As seedy as it seems, the beaches are awesome, the people are nice, and the food is good. I imagine if I wasn’t traveling alone, then the whole prostitution thing wouldn’t be in my face all the time. The Vietnamese just can not imagine why a fat American would be traveling alone in their country other than for hookers. On the other hand, I guess if that’s what you want on your vacation then here is where you come.

Another Helmet Cam from Pai

This one took a little longer to get off the camera than the other one, but worth the wait.  This is on the way back from one of the waterfalls, and was some of the more fun motorcycling.  I think this is where I got the poison ivy too. 

Thanksgiving Dinner

I couldn’t find any other Americans to go searching for turkey and the fixings, so I went out solo. I walked around Hoi An in the rain for a couple hours building up an appetite, scoping out dinner spots, and contemplating having a suit made. I finally settled on a trendy looking place that was blasting A Tribe Called Quest, and their menu out front looked really good. My traditional Thanksgiving dinner consisted of spring rolls, papaya salad with shrimp, fish grilled in banana leaf, a Hoi An delicacy. I also decided to have my beer of the month here. The dinner would have been quite lonely if I had a heart, and if I didn’t have the Tribe. But one of the best meals I have had on my trip, so I picked the right place. It’s been raining a lot here and supposed to rain more this weekend as I head south through the beach towns. Which doesn’t bother me at all but doesn’t make for the best pictures. So I’ve been laying low, reading “The World is Flat” and bullshitting with the hotel staff. The counter girl just told me that my beard makes me look old and scary, and that Vietnamese don’t like beards. I told her that neither do American women and I don’t care. I’ve been told that it is much cheaper to have clothing made here than Bangkok and that I should have at least something made while here, but I really don’t want to lug around anything for the rest of the trip. Especially a baby blue tuxedo, and green St. Patrick’s suit. Both of which I could have made for $30 dollars or so. I was supposed to go to the ancient Cham ruins of My Son today, but the rain made me decide to sleep in instead. I’ve done a lot of the touristy, museum, ruins stuff lately anyway. If I was in Asia for less time I’d probably push it a little harder to see more, but I feel 3 months is plenty of time for adventure, culture, and relaxation, plus it is Thanksgiving Weekend. If I were home I’d be on the gorge myself/sleep cycle. Last year I was with Will in the kitchen doing dishes and drinking a beer for every load we put through, and insisting to Terry Cargill that the dish machine needed more Grand Marnier. So eat lots of leftovers for me, and I’ll pack in the rice for you.  Go Hoos!

Da Nang, Hoi An, and My Gay Waiter

I stopped for a night in Danang after leaving Hue.  Again, not a major backpacker spot, but I figured I’m unemployed my time is worthless.  It was raining bad in Danang, all night and all morning.  So basically checked in, wandered the streets, ate dinner, hung out in my hotel room watching TV, woke up, saw that it was still raining, slept til noon, checked out.  Exciting right?  I had dinner in this gorgeous courtyard at this beautiful restaurant, and because it was raining I was the only one there.  There really didn’t seem like there was much to Danang.  It is where China Beach took place, and during the War was an R&R spot for U.S. GI’s.  So it has a reputation for prostitution although I didn’t see anything of the sort.  I guess whores don’t work in the rain.  I was going to hit up monkey mountain but it was raining, so I went internetting instead and spent a while talking to this motorbike driver about Danang, motorcycles, and Vietnamese coffee.  Then on to Hoi An.

This guy above sat next to me on the hour bus ride.  Hoi An is on every tourists list.  There are backpackers and old people galore.  It is one of the only places untouched by the war, so it still has a lot of the old french and Chinese architecture.  And shopping.  More tailors than Bangkok, and all sorts of other goodies.  I hadn’t bought anything before getting here and even I got talked out of a few bucks.  This place flooded last week and it is still all messed up.  So it’s not as pretty as you can tell it usually is.  But still pretty.  After settling into the hotel and a good amount of walking around, I sat down to eat dinner on the balcony of this ancient building.  This gaggle of beautiful young Vietnamese girls in long silk dresses sat me and brought me water.  It was a beautiful night with a nice breeze, and I was practically in heaven.  Then the manager shows up.  He looks kind of like Pok with less gel and awkwardly skinny and wearing a suit.  He shoves these girls out of the way and insists that he will be waiting on me.  Fine, I don’t care, I’m starving.  I start to get the feeling he is gay, but it’s hard to tell over here because lots of the men are kind of feminine.  Again, I don’t care who brings my food.  I had this skewer/spring roll sampler platter and shrimp with cashews and rice.  Awesome.  I would have eaten there every night if I hadn’t been sexually assaulted after dinner.  This is when he brought on the full court press.  Upon taking my plates he put his crotch right up on my arm.  So much onto my arm that I had to get out of the chair to get it out of his crotch.  Then I asked for the bill and he asked if wanted a massage.  All the while telling me I am big and strong and grabbing my arm and shoulder.  Then he grabbed my breast.  I firmly grabbed his arm and told him that everything was delicious and thank you and to get my bill.  He came back with the check and asked me, “do you like ____vietnam?” He mumbled the blank part and I didn’t understand so I asked to repeat.  He said it two more times before I realized that he was asking me if I “liked gay Vietnam.”  “No, I like Vietnam, not gay Vietnam,” I said very sternly, gave him money, told him to keep the change.  And I briskly walked down the stairs and out the front.  The whole time being groped on my back and right as I’m crossing the threshold of the place he grabs my ass and says, “I see you tomorrow.”  I vaguely remember him asking me if my wife would be joining me and I told him I was single, fatal mistake.  The moral of the story is: When dining at fancy restaurants by yourself in the shopping meccas of Asia, make sure you tell the waiter you are married.  This restaurant was part of Project Indochina which employs orphaned and abused children and teaches them business skills, pays for college, etc.  It was funny to me walking out of there that all these girls from terrible upbringings were looking at me like I was the rape victim.  I’ve never felt like such a piece of meat.

Hue

I have left Hanoi and found myself in the city of Hue, the first stop on my journey south towards Saigon.  My hotel karma came back around here full force as soon as they dropped me off the bus.  The Thai Binh hotel has hot water, AC, TV, a fridge, bathtub, balcony, free internet, and real towels all for less than I paid in Hanoi.  It has rained since I arrived, which has forced me to spend half my time soaked and the other half enjoying my lavish room with HBO.  My bill for two nights, two meals, a couple waters from the fridge, and my bus ticket to Da Nang was $30. 

Yesterday I spent $7 to ride around on the back of Mr. Trung’s scooter all day in the rain.  Mr. Trung was a lieutenant in the South Vietnam Army and gave me a tour that included a brief history of the war from his perspective, three world heritage sites, some bunkers and pagodas, and a full soaking from top to bottom.  Hue flooded right before I got here.  Still, well worth the shower to hear Mr. Trung’s stories.  I have a much greater understanding of what went on here after spending my $7. 

I am considering getting my eyes surgically slanted and moving here permanantly.  The Vietnamese and I share a mutual infatuation with motorbikes and Landcruisers.  If only I could get over the rank stank of fish sauce that they put in everything.  Hue is interesting because it is somewhat off the backpacker path, the closest city to the DMZ, and overall a more accurate picture of life in Vietnam I think.   

I just got word that Scott and Travis will be joining me in January.  So I travel for another ten days solo through Vietnam, then meet up with Michael in Bangkok.  I’ll travel for a month with him, kiteboarding, dirt-biking, and I’m sure he’ll make me run wind sprints too.  Then solo again for ten more days in Cambodia or Laos before meeting up with Scott and Travis for a solid three weeks of chaos, mayhem, debauchery, and full-on swashbuckling.  And I believe we all fly out the same day.  That’s the itinerary I suppose, or the outline.  I guess I should enjoy peaceful sanity while I can.  Seriously, traveling solo is hard at times, and I don’t think just anybody could pull it off, so I’m looking forward to having some comrades for my adventures.  I’m glad that three crazy pirates will be joining me soon.

Holy Hanoi

This place is crazy.  Bangkok is nuts, but Hanoi takes it to a whole new level.  Everything is so compressed.  People everywhere.  I’m staying in the Old Quarter, down some alley, it’s like a maze every time I just want to get back to my room.  Hanoi has got to be the scooter capital of the world.  Swarms of them all over the place.  They out number the cars 20:1.  Lots of bicycles too, but mostly scooters.  It is a serious chore just to cross the street, I find myself following little old ladies across streets in the dangerous game of frogger.  I always thought the bypass at the beach was the most dangerous place to ride a motorcycle, but Hanoi might beat it.  I got my tourist on today.  I hit the mausoleum, the one-pillar pagoda, and the Hoa Lo Prison a.k.a. the Hanoi Hilton where John McCain was a P.O.W.  The whole time being taxied around on the back of scooters for about a dollar a trip.  They are out to get you here though.  Non-stop harrasment from hagglers.  Everybody is trying to sell you something.  The food is sweet, I’ve had plenty of good, cheap meals already.  And the people seem really nice, the ones that aren’t trying to hustle you.  The place I’m staying is a shit-hole, I’m sure they are going to rob me before I go.  Cheap though.  And I’m sick of carrying around my bag anyway.

Killing Time in Bangkok

It takes three work days to get a visa for Vietnam, so I’m just chilling here in the dirtiest city on earth waiting for Wednesday.  There is a lot to do here, it just gets a little expensive once you get off the backpacker trail.  And I’m really itching to go see some different stuff.  Yesterday I took the river taxi to the skytrain then on to the shopping district where there are 10 enormous malls.  I spent some time in this really upscale mall that had Ferrari, Lamborghini, and Porsche dealers inside on the 3rd of 8 floors.  Then saw another movie in this super-deluxe theater that had huge, leather, auto recliners and blankets and pillows.  I could have spent all day there.  Lots of walking around.  Between all the walking and all the rice I should weigh about a hundred pounds when I get back.  I’m really starting to jones for a steak, not a whole lot of beef in the land of the Buddhists. 

Another Shitty Day in Paradise

I’m back in Bangkok.  A stroke of bad luck finally tainted an otherwise perfect trip.  My dirtbike died.  At first I thought it was out of gas as I do occasionally have these absent-minded-professor spells.  So I went and got gas and she started up and died again a few minutes later.  It was 10pm and the shop said to worry about it in the morning, so I forgot about it for the night.  I woke up the next morning with poison ivy.  And not on my front like I had brushed against some while riding, but on the backs of my legs and arms like I laid in it.  So itchy and bent out of shape I went to the dealer where the mechanic and I rode on his scooter to the bike.  I was sure at this point that it was going to start right up, or he’d say, “you no turn key,” and make me look like an idiot.  But he tried everything I tried the night before and no start.  So I rode back to the dealer on the scooter while he pushed the bike back, where I told them I refused to pay for a broken bike, we settled on what amounted to about a dollar.  I decided that since I had given the best bike in Pai poison ivy, that it was time to skip town.  It was one of those, “we are booked for two days, but you can leave in 30 minute” deals where I was on a bus before I knew it.  The kind of split minute decision you can only do while traveling alone, because there was no time to wait for a girl to get ready or your buddy to take a dump.  Only time to get the hell outta dodge.  Now I’m going to go talk to my favorite little travel agent and see if she can get my itchy ass to Vietnam tomorrow.  

Pai Countryside Helmet Cam

The resolution on this was better before Google got ahold of it.  You can’t even see the chickens on the side of the road, but at least it gives you some idea of why I do what I do. 

The Daily Grind

It’s tough work riding around trying to find waterfalls.  I’m usually all tuckered out with bugs in my teeth by mid-morning.  Then I usually go internetting, and grab lunch.  Back on the trusty steed for more riding around until dark, go back to my room where I turn on the TV while I shower up for dinner.  Thai TV is hilarious, I can’t understand a word of it, but it is awesome.  Especially their MTV equivalent and info-mercials.  I wonder if you get these channels when you order the Asian Directv channels.  Then I go do a couple laps around town on the bike to pick out a dinner spot, and have a romantic dinner with myself.  Back to the room where I tell myself that tonight I’m going to go out and have a beer, but I always fall asleep reading or playing Grand Theft on the PSP (thanks Norm).  I still haven’t made it past 11pm on any night here, but tonight I will really try so I can report on the crazy nightlife.  I did finish Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods” which I’m glad I read, now I don’t have to go hike the Appalachian Trail since he described it so vividly for me.  Now I’ve started “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell” which should be standard reading for any frat boy, but still nothing revolutionary, just a bunch of funny drunk stories, who doesn’t have those?  I’m glad I stocked up early. 

Waterfall #2 had a lot more traffic.  So no skinny dipping for this guy. 
  
 

Waterfall Hunter

This morning I traded in ‘lil pepe’ for ‘pepe grande’ because even though the lil guy was getting the job done, it felt unamerican because there was more power to be had.  So I set out on the moto to find the four major waterfalls that surround Pai.  This sounds easy enough they looked close on the map that wasn’t to scale and there’s bound to be some signs in English right?  It quickly turned into more of a challenge than I expected.  No English signs, crap of a map, distractions in the form of swedish girls asking where the pool was, and more pressing challenges like lack of gas stations. After riding for a while down this dusty dirt road, I had a feeling that the signs said waterfall in Thai, and that any minute I would bag me a big one. And there it was.
    

I’m sitting there admiring this trophy, having traveled far out into the wilderness to find this mysterious, elusive beast.  Proud of myself for overcoming the jungle when up the hill come a flock of teenage, thai girls on their scooters.  Clearly they had only been able to make it to this place because of their masculine American guide on his behemoth of a dirtbike. 

I spent a couple of hours riding around trying to find the other waterfalls with no luck, but that was alright because there was plenty more to look at.  And I had already conquered one that day.  A lot of the fun of riding around all these back roads is dodging all the animals.  I counted one cow, about 20 dogs, and 25 or so chickens.

Also worth noting – the Thais use scooters and dirtbikes like the family vehicle.  I have seen a family of five riding one, a man carrying a ladder, one scooter with a giant microwave box on the back.  A lot of the roadside stands are scooters, when they sell all their skewers, they fold up the umbrella and take off.  The day I got here it was raining and all the Thai women were riding around one-handed and holding umbrellas in the other.  I don’t think 10% of American women could do that.

Everywhere I have ever traveled, my favorite part has always been renting a motorcycle and getting out and seeing the countryside.  It puts the rest of what I see in perspective, and offers an opportunity to get off the beaten path and explore.  However, I wouldn’t recommend getting lost in the Dominican countryside with a girl on the back of a 100cc dirtbike.  That one almost got a little hairy.
   

This last one looked like an elephant concentration camp.  It makes me not want to ride them, but I got to if I wanna roll with team elephant ridaz’ right Drew?

Thai Food

Imagine the best food you have ever had at just about any Thai restaurant in the U.S. and that compares almost equally to the worst of the food over here.  Everything I’ve had to eat over here has been awesome.  In Bangkok you can get whatever you want, but even here in Pai there are all sorts of international options.  I usually stick with the Thai food as it is scrumptious.  My first night in Pai I figured it wasn’t much of a gamble to eat at the busiest place.  It smelled great and there was live music – some Thai stoner covering American tunes.  My favs were the 3 John Denver songs played back-to-back.  Gorged myself, spent four bucks and off to bed.  The next night I had this romantic river-side dinner with myself at this open-air place that also had live music.  This time it was a gay Thai guy on percussion, a british ex-pat on the keys, and an old long haired dude on the sax who sounded horrible.  The traditional Pai pork and fried rice was much better than the music.  My mixed fruit smoothie arrived right about the time they kicked into “Low-Rider.”  I really wish someone, anyone had been there to see that because I almost pissed myself.  Last night I didn’t sit down for dinner.  Instead, I ambled around in the streets and bought all sorts of goodies from the roadside vendors.  Springrolls, pad-thai, and satay.  The satay which was just little pieces of fried chicken on a skewer with some sweet and sour hot sauce was by far the best and the little Thai ladies laughed at me when I came back for seconds.  Drew – I’ll look into overnighting you some.  But you could eat very well here without ever sitting down if you wanted and spend almost nothing.  I’ve been here a week and spent less than $200 on everything.  Could have done half that if I wanted.  Breakfast is usually muesli mix or American breakfast.  Muesli mix is fruit, cereal, and yogurt all mixed together in a big bowl, and the American breakfast is eggs, bacon/sausage/ham, toast, OJ, and Coffee.  Traditional Thai breakfast is some variation of rice soup which never sounds good in the morning but probably is.  No beef here so when you are mashing a steak with a good beer think of me.  There is also a 7-11, the other night before going to bed I went and grabbed a strawberry fanta, some ice cream, and some pistachios (which I found out were from California when I got back to my room.)  Tonight I’m going to try this place where nothing is in English and they looked at me funny the other night when I cruised through there, but it was packed full of Thais and smelled awesome.  Your nose and the parking lot test will never fail you as long as you’ll eat anything.
   

Greater Metropolitan Area of Pai

I rented a scooter last night for $2 and got up early to see the bustling metropolis of Pai.  The scooter which I’ve nicknamed “lil pepe” is the little scooter that could, hauling the fattest man in Thailand up and down many a hill.  I’ll probably splurge and get a big bike tomorrow for $5.
          

Sweetest tree house I have ever seen.

And it had urinals with a view.
  
And finally, look I stole Tim’s dog and brought it with me.

Getting to Pai

If you don’t like travelling then I don’t see how you could manage a trip like this.  I spent seventeen hours on a train the night before last, then got on a bus for four more.  I would have had to wait for 3 more hours to take the luxury bus with reclining seats and AC, so I opted for the “thai” bus.  Luckily they didn’t sell the seat (spot on bench) next to me because I barely fit in the two by myself.  I was the only westerner on the bus and probably the largest to ever ride.  I enjoy all the trains, cabs, boats, buses, planes, tuk-tuks, motorcycles, scooters, and hopefully elephants, but if you don’t like the actual riding then you would hate this type of trip.  Unless you pay out the ass to fly everywhere which isn’t always possible.  Finally made it to Pai though.  It’s been drizzling since I got here which has forced me to rest and cure my jet lag.  It was a lot easier to cure jet lag with alcohol.  I started pleasure reading which I haven’t done since Costa Rica and quit wearing underwear.  Which I am amazed I hadn’t done sooner.  I’m settling nicely into the wonderful world of unemployment I think.

Heading North – Too Damn Hot

I booked tickets on an overnight train heading north tonight.  Riding in a sleeper car for $20 that arrives in Chang Mai at 9AM tomorrow.  From there Ill get on a bus headed to Pai, even farther north.  Pai is supposed to be this little hippie town that sits on a river and has an unusually sweet music scene.  I’ve also read that you can ride elephants and hike up there, but that it also has some of the better spots to ride dirtbikes.  We’ll see.  Looking forward to getting out of Bangkok, I need something a little more laid back right now.  I’ll be ready to spend more time in Bangkok later in the trip.  So today I’m just killing time waiting for my train.  I already went to the Grand Palace to see all the Buddha Bling via water taxi.  Now I’m sitting in the MBK mall with a bunch of asian, teenage girls waiting for a movie to start.  I don’t even remember what I’m seeing, I just know it’s in the VIP theater.  It feels good to get out of the heat and smog.

  

Big Things Poppin’

After thirty hours in and out of airports and planes, and finally getting to the other side of the world, I got in a taxi on Wednesday night headed for a bed hopefully.  The taxi driver didn’t know any english so we rode in silence for about twenty minutes until he turned on the radio.  T.I. – Big things poppin’.  Funny how you can spend 30 hours and $1300 dollars to get as far away as you possibly can and still be haunted by Wednesday nights at the Brewing Station.  It immediately brought on thoughts of Roger, Howard, Rene, Fat Rachel, Soulja Boy, Hennesey and cokes, LIT’s, and everything else innovative and revolutionary that the pub offers.  It’s eleven hours ahead here so all that mayhem is going on right now in the OBX.  I’m sure DJ DropD is playing music he hates (Ayo Technology is playing in the internet cafe I’m in right now), Terry is drunk, everybody else is in “the house doing their thang” (said with a lisp and a crazy eye.)  A carnival I’ll probably miss someday, but not today.

Countdown 5 Days

Tickets are bought, almost all necessary equipment has been acquired, and I’ll be leaving the bustling metropolis of New Bern next Tuesday.  Everything I own is in storage or shoved in the back of the landcruiser.  Kramer is enjoying retirement with the folks and Kelly (their Golden retriever).  The ticket is to Bangkok returning January 31.  Three months on the other side of the globe should be enough time to clear my head of the past year.