tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75228282011-04-21T14:26:13.738-07:00I'm travelling in Southeast Asia: Thailand, Laos, Cambodia. My descriptions are very "wordy"...zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comBlogger241100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1131024237510980462005-11-03T05:19:00.000-08:002005-11-03T05:23:57.510-08:00

I got back a year ago.I can't wait to go travelling again!I didn't keep writing the blog whilst I was in Asia, as I just couldn't keep up. But I did finish it! You can see the whole thing here on my webspace at Uni.I'm also just about to start a new blog, zrenneh.blogspot.com.

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093679967955650962004-07-28T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:19:00.456-07:00

We were in a rush the next day – it was RAFTING day! We went to the bakery down the road for a quick breakfast. The Lao service kicked in. The people moved as if underwater, prepared exactly the wrong sandwiches and never smiled. The sandwiches were pretty good. Our guide, Seg, was great. He perched at the back of the raft with a grin on his face and a cigarette in his mouth. We spent a lot of

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093679890407352582004-07-26T00:01:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:13:09.023-07:00

Our rattling tuk-tuk took us further out. Tat Sae waterfall was a barren bubblescape – the cascading water was so rich in limestone that it grew over everything the water touched – even bridges and fallen trees had a stodgy coating. Feet and hands stuck to the stone resolutely. We clambered around the stout falls in dappled light – the water tried to flip us about. Xuang Si was fearsome – a flood

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093679684290467692004-07-26T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:17:31.576-07:00

Luang Prabang is a very small city, a tiny urban island amid the thick mountainous countryside. The village brewing laolao (rice whisky) was such a direct contrast to Talisker (on Skye) it was comic. At Talisker, the whisky was produced in an enormous wooden and copper plant, polished and gleaming. A wizened expert in overalls would go around checking readings, tasting and occasionally adjusting

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093679493606139342004-07-25T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:20:05.223-07:00

The Royal Palace was very jaded. An understated airy colonial building was sparsely fitted out, except for the throne room – a grand deep red with sparkling glass murals everywhere. Another room was fitted out with completely incongruous paintings/murals on large canvases that totally covered the walls. They were nevertheless beautiful – idealised depictions of Lao life. Muscular men and demure

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093679326221073702004-07-24T00:00:00.001-07:002004-08-28T01:12:15.923-07:00

Incongruous amongst the colonial architecture were Luang Prabang’s many wats - sometimes low slung, sometimes shiny glam. One wat was a complex of tiny buildings nestled on a huge hill in the middle of town. Every intricate building, carved staircase or Buddha image you came across felt like a DISCOVERY! The hill made all journeys much longer – to go anywhere the other side of the hill became a

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093679224224022382004-07-24T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T00:47:04.223-07:00

Luang Prabang is the second largest city in Laos. It feels like a sleepy provincial place in the South of France. A lazy coffee by the roadside felt civilised after all the chilli and garlic of Thailand. The town had style – at the night market almost everything was beautifully designed and handcrafted. The wares seemed mass-produced – they were so perfect and yet the range of colours and designs

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093679098159907282004-07-22T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:21:29.923-07:00

My first day on the slow boat was cramped and definitely slow. We slid through fantastic scenery – high mountains with cloud covered peaks lit by bright angles of sunlight. I was stuck in the middle row seats and couldn’t see. The six hours oozed by fairly uneventfully. Liv saw it all and had a great time. I did meet Mitul – a slick but shy Indian guy from West London. He was zipping through

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1093678773386935012004-07-21T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:01:15.110-07:00

Back in Chiang Mai, things moved fast. The camera wasn’t taking pictures, but we could apparently buy the same one really cheap in Mae Sai on the Burmese border. Since Mae Sai was apparently only 30km or so from Chaing Khlong (the Lao border and our next destination) we hoped to pass through Mae Sai and pick up a new camera without spending a whole day on it. We missed the last bus by ten minutes

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1091956029370981202004-07-20T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:22:48.620-07:00

The rafts were in the river backwards - Two had to turn them around. He tried two at once, without even tying them together. The pole broke. the rafts came apart and drifted downstream. The villagers sploshed into the mayhem, falling about and battling with the current. The trekking company made the raft sound rock solid - two layers of bamboo for withstanding rock hits. When we got on it sank

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1091375680196889372004-07-19T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:24:05.023-07:00

We started out with a long walk, winding through the village. Two filled us in on many aspects of village life - the fruits and herbs they grew, rice threshing, their beleifs. They mainly worship spirits. This is very cumbersome to the encroach of Western Medicine as they vehemently prefer spirit doctors to medics. There are also some strange customs such as burying the umbilical cord of a

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1091373819503969822004-07-18T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:26:34.526-07:00

A lot of research went into our trek. We talked to a whole load of people, including one extremely irritating eco-warrior who we then kept bumping into around town. We had to invent a way of asking "Do the natives wear the pretty outfits?" without asking "Do the natives wear the pretty outfits?"... In the end we went of the MOST touristy trek - it sounded the FUNNEST. We started out at an

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1090595199614970112004-07-15T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:27:42.913-07:00

Arrival at Blue Diamond Guest House was such a relief. We spent the previous night at lying cheating Lanna Guest House, who pushed us through the door and tried to push us onto a trek. Blue Diamond had childrens drawings on the walls and a huge menu of just breakfast :) The proprietor would come and take your order with her baby on her arm. As food people, Liv and I were in heaven. They had a

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1090592417396602702004-07-13T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:41:02.626-07:00

I spent the entire next day writing the last week+! It took 8 hours to get to Sukhothai and we were glad of a SWIM. Thailand's climate does strange things - the water in the outdoor pool was actually WARM. It still confuses me how it is warm outside and cold inside (with fab air-con). There was a swirly slide which we monopolised and used to splash attack the other pool users. Splashes were rated

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1090591310483390152004-07-10T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:41:52.363-07:00

At Ayuthaya, we stayed in a beautiful teak hostel. I spent a long time convincing myself that it was OK that it was extremely noisy and dirty - it was atmospheric. We moved on the next morning. TONY'S PLACE was friendly and spacious, and had hilarious young girl on the desk. She pranced about doing much better impersonations (in English - and much better than my famously crap ones). We hired

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-109058991277306272004-07-09T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:44:21.376-07:00

Jim Thompson's House was stunning. We were ushered from the taxi by a uniformed man (such luxury compared to guesthouse utilitarianism) and strolled between deep red Thai architecture, lush foliage and two serene pools - stocked with voracious looking sleek fish and rays. The house and surrounding buildings were set in a beautiful garden of thick and colourful foliage, worm brick path and hidden

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1089823944147827462004-07-08T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:53:03.926-07:00

We took a bus at 7am after smiling and goodbyes. We were the first foreigners Tik had ever met - he was granted only 7 days holiday per year, but if he took it his villagers got angry! The bus was quite something. Ancient and rickety, it rattled through tiny villages, the driver wheeling around potholes and all the time dealing: buying oil and selling a white powder... At one point he pulled up a

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1089820987524089232004-07-07T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:55:06.646-07:00

The next day we woke late, had a lovely lunch with Job and bussed to Pak Thong Chai - a small town very much off the tourist trail and the home of Thai silk weaving. We checked in (out of pure laziness) to a hotel with all mod cons: air con, hot water, a bath, TV, a fridge and a terrace. Despite all this the place had a bad vibe. For one, the hot water was cold. We got the manager in, and told

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1089820032838255742004-07-05T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:55:58.760-07:00

We creaked out of bed at 7, which was when we had promised to wake Sebastien and Anna. 15 minutes later we managed it. Thais have no concept of breakfast as a different meal: "The Thai people, we eat breakfast, lunch, dinner; same same. Same same, but different". One street vendor in Bangkok began cooking by throwing a handful of garlic into the hot oil-at 9am...So we had toast. I really wanted

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1089471651518251892004-07-04T00:01:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:58:03.156-07:00

We crunched up to the loud and ornate cavern entrance. Inside were many Buddha images. Joe raced through a complete course in Theravada Buddhism, Buddhist monks and their social position in society: all Thai men are expected to become monks for at least one mont of their life. It still puzzles me why the Thai Buddhists (95% of the population) idolize Buddha and Buddha images so much when Buddhism

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1089471436651600572004-07-04T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:56:49.573-07:00

Lots and lots has happened since my last email. I've decided to keep this blog like my own diary, so it might be a bit lengthy (soz)... We took a government bus from Bangkok to Pak Chong at 7am. The perks of first class were: The vehicle was garishly decorated with alternating neon green and pink Viennese blinds. An award to that interior designer :) They were playing the foulest Thai pop music

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1088859646791241982004-07-03T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-28T01:59:09.693-07:00

Tomorrow we go to Khao Yai for some RAINFOREST! Liv has 20 T-shirts. She wonders why her bag is heavy. Apparently it's all the "other stuff". Today we went to Vimanmek, an enormous and gorgeous teak mansion in the middle of Bangkok. We noticed the gorgeous building, but the Thais were obsessed with Rama V, the king who built it, and with English stuff, all the furniture was English save the

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1088859032612134882004-07-02T01:00:00.000-07:002004-11-11T14:37:05.313-08:00

Opinions change, I like Bangkok much more than I did a couple of days ago...I think I am getting used to the heat and the grime(!) Having said that, we tried to sleep without a fan last night and lasted about 10 minutes. Tuk tuks are the way forward. They're such comic vehicles, like glorious milkfloats. To me, they seem very Thailand with bright colours and a quirky shape, 3 tyres for swaying

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522828.post-1088857619034827572004-06-29T00:00:00.000-07:002004-08-27T14:58:42.406-07:00

I must look like such a backpacker (i think the backpack gives it away). As I walked out of 76 Foyle Road, a tall round black man in a bright stripey shirt called "Going to see the world?" I said yes, he wished me good luck in a low loping voice, like Marcellus Wallace. Liv and I are writing from a great little caf้ in NW Bangkok. There are a bunch of Thai women doing aerobics across the road

zrennehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12896884547438867621noreply@blogger.com