TWO THINGS OF NOTE BEFORE READING THIS... FIRSTLY, THE NEXT FEW BLOGS HAVE BEEN WRITTEN WHILE ON THE ROAD, AD LIB'D AND AND WITH NO SPELLING RECHECK ETC SO MUCH APOLOGIES. SECONDLY, ITS BEING UPLOADED FROM A FREE WIFI LAUNDROMAT IN COTTESLOE BEACH IN PERTH... BACKPACKING, BEST EVER!
I write this having come yet another full circle in my journey around the world. As I write this I'm sitting here in Singapore airport outside Gate C24 waiting to board my flight to Perth, that is to say I'm leaving South East Asia, a journey which has taken me 3 months in real time and 15 years otherwise to get around, and I still only saw some of it.
I've just finished eating a portion of chicken macaroni... for breakfast, its 7am and my flight is at 9am. They eat that sort of thing for breakfast over here, oh, and its served in a soup... pretty much everything is served in a soup.
As I was saying, I'm preparing to leave SE Asia, a region of the world in which I have zig-zagged, smooched, hooched, leered, veered, planed, trained and auto-mobiled (of various sorts and reliabilities) from Singapore to Bangkok Thailand, flew to Hong Kong, travelled cross-ways through China smack in the middle of Chinese New Year, the largest annual human migration worldwide, down into Vietnam (all the way down), into Cambodia, up through Laos, into north Thailand, back down to BKK, to Malaysia, back up to the Thai islands before... well, back to Sing'er where I now currently find myself, for the next two hours at least. That's the jist of the trip undertaken in all of 3 months on the road here, the stories come from what happened in between, they come next.
I've been in an earthquake, suffered whopping chest infections, the single worst hangover ever and a banged shoulder from crashing a bike, jumped 20ft of boats into freezing water, been massaged by a lady boy, seen sights I'd only even imagined or seen on TV, had the shits, sulks, laughs a plenty, being lost and found innumerable times, partied all night long... and all day, and made some smashing new friends... all the while carrying at least 20kg on my back, and then some.
Where do I start... from the start is usually best, innit. That was Friday January 21 when I first arrived in Sing'er from Mumbai, a culture shock in itself.
SINGAPORE
From the filth, the crazy manic jam packed brilliant assault on the senses that is MUmbai I arrived in a veritable bastion of western culture and mechanism, everything ran on time, all was large, bright, shiny... clean... I hated it... still do, its, well, its too perfect. Too, ... normal. especially after being in India and of course Nepal for the past month and a half where its not unheard of for a person to ride on the roof.
Despite my misgivings, I arrived in and area of Sing'er called Little India, the main backpacker area. Stayed in an Aussie backpackers, I don't really want to go on about Sing'er cos even now, just thinking about it bores me... what I can say about he backpackers is BED and BUGS... and LOTS OF 'EM.
Two days I landed in a city I would instantaneously fall in love with, back to the insanity, I landed in Bangkok, the BKK, a city famous for three things, temples, canals and hookers.
BANGKOK-Thailand- Round 1
Into Koh San road and eeeeeeuuuuugh, even at 11am when I arrived there were whities, pale faces, farrangs, Travelly Waveleys falling over the place, propping themselves up against 7-11's with two litres of water in one hand and the morning Chang in the other... I would myself learn to hate Chang-overs... they are not fun! Trapsing the streets for a place to live I wandered aimlessly onto a side road named Sol Rambuttri, a place I now happily call home. Hooked up with a place the wandering began.
As I said, BKK is famous mainly for 3 things temples, canals and hookers.... oh, and sex change op's. Its an eye opener if you've never being to a place that so totally overwhelms, I thankful served my internship in incredible India.
The Game plan- spend 5 days in BKK while sorting out my Vietnam Visa. Other than that a whole lot of getting lost and wandering about the side streets, eating all sorts of weird and wonderful mystery meats... and shop the markets, of which there are quite literally hundreds, BKK is buzzing at every hour of the day or night, the streets teeming with energy, bodies strewn hither thither filling up doorways and benches, some selling wares, some selling themselves, others just live there.
With the Visa sorted, meeting up with Orlaith ar eileamh, on her own trip and our now mutual friend Kate some of the sights I took in, some I can say I am proud of having seen, others not so much.
From the Muay Thai Boxing to the Palace, sailing down the BKK canals at sunset, spending bhat like its going out of fashion at Chatuchat weekend market.
The Muay Thai was impressive, totally racist towards westerners with western prices, western place to sit, Thai's pay 12th of the price you do etc for everything, drinks incl, met to Irish guys there from Westmeath and we all likened it to being the only black fella at a GAA match on a Sunday.
The trip there in the taxi was even more eventful. Myself, a couple o scando gals and an English bloke rock up thinkinUsain Bolt. Of course this is commented upon, driver pulls car to a halt and turns to Eng'ie in the front, stares him in the face and asks... 'dont you believe i was in the army'. The man has stopped in traffic, on a main road, horns honking, traffic manoeuvring around him, of course we bloody believe him. he gets out all of a sudden and goes to the back of the car, I jokingly suggest that hes gone to get his gun.... He has actually gone to get a gun! comes back and sits into the car with a GLock in his has and tries to get each one of us to hold it, not a freakin mission I'm getting my prints on that. The sweat is pouring and one of the girls gathers herself enough to say we'll miss the boxing if we stay about (in the middle of the road) any longer... his face changes, he smiles, says 'I was in the army you know' and drives off.
HONG KONG and CHINA
Unlike the sterilised version of the east that Sing'er so readily serves up, the most amazing thing I found about Sing'er was that in India to see another whitey was a novelty, now I was surrounded by them, HK was similar but the whole energy of the city was different. They too build every conceivable shape and size of building on whatever sliver of free city scape they could find, cars roams the roads in packs like wild dogs, speed limits unabided by, the city clearly an hub business and trade, but it was different somehow, more lived in.
V little was done, it was the run up to the Chinese New Year, having got my Visa while in Ireland I only needed to organise my trains. The city of HK is split into several islands, I stayed in Kow Loon, bastion of foreigners and in Cheung King Mansions, the cheapest accomo in town, absolutely grot. My room, the size of a bus stop toilet surprising became a 'get out' from the city, quite cold at the time of year I went . You can walk everywhere and if I was to go to HK I would defo make sure that I had planned the trip and what to do there that much more, fair to say a lot of stuff was preparing for closing for the new year, the night time horse racing season was cancelled in expectation etc and there was a general feeling of people moving out of home, but the city was still fascinating from what I saw. Old streets facing onto new and extravagant financial buildings, shops selling every conceivable type of dried up animal part, for food and medicinal purposes, side by side with H&M and Hermes, yeah... was nuts.
My train from HK took me to the industrial city of Ghuangzhou... when you talk to any person from China (those who do talk) or foreigners working there they all say, 'oh, I come from a small industrial city'... they're all industrial cities which says a lot about China.
Little did I know just how difficult it would be to travel in china during CNY. If the question was HOw difficult? the answer is terrifyingly difficult. Land in Ghuangzhou, I know none of the language, they don't speak English and as a rule of thumb until they're corrected, when then they treat you differently, they treat all whiteys as Americans... and they don't like Americans. I get to the train station eventually, rock up to find what can only be described as mass queues trying to get into a circus, rows and rows of people shacked up in tents, side by side, on top of each other, on top of bags.... is this the queue in... thankfully not, the queue was only a couple of hundred people long, the tents were there to house the people who had bought their tickets in advance and now had to wait maybe one, maybe two days before their train was due to depart.
I did a bad thing, when I did, after about an hour get to the ticket desk, the first time I got to the top of the queue I was ushered away from it in typically stone faced communist fashion by a burly guard to in best broken English told me that queue was not for 'me', me I expect is whiteys, so I queued up again and I'm not proud, when I got there, I was told there was no possibility of getting me on a train for at least two days, I pulled out the equivalent of 5 euro in Yuan and slipped it over the counter to him, I was booked, sleeper class on a train to Kunming, my connecting town to try and get into Vietnam, for the next day. My conscience clear of whatever poor commie Chinese farmer peasant I had just bumped off the train I went looking for a place to stay for the night, knowing that next day I was due to embark on a 24 hour train journey across China. I know I keep saying it but its 7 hours down and at worst 4 hours across in Ireland, looking at a map I barely scratched the sheer size of the Chinese mainland with my journey. 24 hours on a train sleeper, a fish in a bowl to everyone around me, the only whitey on there, feeding mainly on snickers and oreos, conversing with a girl the bunk below me only by writing it in text first and then her using her mobile translator.... it had its moments.
But and the end of it all I was in Kunming for what is really their Christmas, there finally I could relax. Picked a hostel and crashed.
Kunming is a fun city, Ill cap quickly, theres not a lot in it but it has a lot to do outside it. Its, again, an industrial city, though not as much industry as others. Part of CNY also meant that all the foreign english teachers were on hols so the hostel was hopping with them, some fun, all arguing the point that their city was much dirtier that the other persons. The day of CNY arrives and hooking up with two South African girls, we hit the town. Instilling the fact I am a light weight in the drinking terms, having affectionately named me 'Irish', clearly because Seamus is too difficult for them, they effectively imbibed me in local liqueur called Bijou... now known to me as 'the Devils shit and piss mixed with burnt hair and spit', a vile liquid if ever there was one conceived. Night started at 8.30pm, it finished for me at 10.30pm, in bed, not well. What happened in between was recounted to me next morning over breakfast, yes, next morning and breakfast, where we had gone to watch the local kids shoot fireworks at each other, one the gals, who is studying in Beijing got into a conversation with an old Chinese guy, known now as 'Grandpa China' for naming purposes, Grandpa China invites us all back to his house for more vile liquid and peanut brittle. At this stage I'm the only thing that's a bit brittle, make it up to his house, his hospitality knowing no bounds he gives us each an apple which, in my drunken delusions of grandeur phase promptly discard having taking a bite of it by throwing it behind my head.... time to go home, however I was assured by the girls that no offense was cause, that I was perfectly civil and veritable joy to be in the company of and that Grandpa China commended my drunkenness on several occasions. job done.
Kunming was completed with a spin to local park full of disgusting pigeons, a trip to a local temple and dining out at a poo and toilet themed restaurant, only the best for me. Leaving Kunming, the typical backpacker coincidence of meeting people at my hostel heading the same way occurred, Sean and Everret from the US and we'd be crossing the border to 'Nam together.
I write this having come yet another full circle in my journey around the world. As I write this I'm sitting here in Singapore airport outside Gate C24 waiting to board my flight to Perth, that is to say I'm leaving South East Asia, a journey which has taken me 3 months in real time and 15 years otherwise to get around, and I still only saw some of it.
I've just finished eating a portion of chicken macaroni... for breakfast, its 7am and my flight is at 9am. They eat that sort of thing for breakfast over here, oh, and its served in a soup... pretty much everything is served in a soup.
As I was saying, I'm preparing to leave SE Asia, a region of the world in which I have zig-zagged, smooched, hooched, leered, veered, planed, trained and auto-mobiled (of various sorts and reliabilities) from Singapore to Bangkok Thailand, flew to Hong Kong, travelled cross-ways through China smack in the middle of Chinese New Year, the largest annual human migration worldwide, down into Vietnam (all the way down), into Cambodia, up through Laos, into north Thailand, back down to BKK, to Malaysia, back up to the Thai islands before... well, back to Sing'er where I now currently find myself, for the next two hours at least. That's the jist of the trip undertaken in all of 3 months on the road here, the stories come from what happened in between, they come next.
I've been in an earthquake, suffered whopping chest infections, the single worst hangover ever and a banged shoulder from crashing a bike, jumped 20ft of boats into freezing water, been massaged by a lady boy, seen sights I'd only even imagined or seen on TV, had the shits, sulks, laughs a plenty, being lost and found innumerable times, partied all night long... and all day, and made some smashing new friends... all the while carrying at least 20kg on my back, and then some.
Where do I start... from the start is usually best, innit. That was Friday January 21 when I first arrived in Sing'er from Mumbai, a culture shock in itself.
SINGAPORE
From the filth, the crazy manic jam packed brilliant assault on the senses that is MUmbai I arrived in a veritable bastion of western culture and mechanism, everything ran on time, all was large, bright, shiny... clean... I hated it... still do, its, well, its too perfect. Too, ... normal. especially after being in India and of course Nepal for the past month and a half where its not unheard of for a person to ride on the roof.
Despite my misgivings, I arrived in and area of Sing'er called Little India, the main backpacker area. Stayed in an Aussie backpackers, I don't really want to go on about Sing'er cos even now, just thinking about it bores me... what I can say about he backpackers is BED and BUGS... and LOTS OF 'EM.
Two days I landed in a city I would instantaneously fall in love with, back to the insanity, I landed in Bangkok, the BKK, a city famous for three things, temples, canals and hookers.
BANGKOK-Thailand- Round 1
Into Koh San road and eeeeeeuuuuugh, even at 11am when I arrived there were whities, pale faces, farrangs, Travelly Waveleys falling over the place, propping themselves up against 7-11's with two litres of water in one hand and the morning Chang in the other... I would myself learn to hate Chang-overs... they are not fun! Trapsing the streets for a place to live I wandered aimlessly onto a side road named Sol Rambuttri, a place I now happily call home. Hooked up with a place the wandering began.
As I said, BKK is famous mainly for 3 things temples, canals and hookers.... oh, and sex change op's. Its an eye opener if you've never being to a place that so totally overwhelms, I thankful served my internship in incredible India.
The Game plan- spend 5 days in BKK while sorting out my Vietnam Visa. Other than that a whole lot of getting lost and wandering about the side streets, eating all sorts of weird and wonderful mystery meats... and shop the markets, of which there are quite literally hundreds, BKK is buzzing at every hour of the day or night, the streets teeming with energy, bodies strewn hither thither filling up doorways and benches, some selling wares, some selling themselves, others just live there.
With the Visa sorted, meeting up with Orlaith ar eileamh, on her own trip and our now mutual friend Kate some of the sights I took in, some I can say I am proud of having seen, others not so much.
From the Muay Thai Boxing to the Palace, sailing down the BKK canals at sunset, spending bhat like its going out of fashion at Chatuchat weekend market.
The Muay Thai was impressive, totally racist towards westerners with western prices, western place to sit, Thai's pay 12th of the price you do etc for everything, drinks incl, met to Irish guys there from Westmeath and we all likened it to being the only black fella at a GAA match on a Sunday.
The trip there in the taxi was even more eventful. Myself, a couple o scando gals and an English bloke rock up thinkinUsain Bolt. Of course this is commented upon, driver pulls car to a halt and turns to Eng'ie in the front, stares him in the face and asks... 'dont you believe i was in the army'. The man has stopped in traffic, on a main road, horns honking, traffic manoeuvring around him, of course we bloody believe him. he gets out all of a sudden and goes to the back of the car, I jokingly suggest that hes gone to get his gun.... He has actually gone to get a gun! comes back and sits into the car with a GLock in his has and tries to get each one of us to hold it, not a freakin mission I'm getting my prints on that. The sweat is pouring and one of the girls gathers herself enough to say we'll miss the boxing if we stay about (in the middle of the road) any longer... his face changes, he smiles, says 'I was in the army you know' and drives off.
HONG KONG and CHINA
Unlike the sterilised version of the east that Sing'er so readily serves up, the most amazing thing I found about Sing'er was that in India to see another whitey was a novelty, now I was surrounded by them, HK was similar but the whole energy of the city was different. They too build every conceivable shape and size of building on whatever sliver of free city scape they could find, cars roams the roads in packs like wild dogs, speed limits unabided by, the city clearly an hub business and trade, but it was different somehow, more lived in.
V little was done, it was the run up to the Chinese New Year, having got my Visa while in Ireland I only needed to organise my trains. The city of HK is split into several islands, I stayed in Kow Loon, bastion of foreigners and in Cheung King Mansions, the cheapest accomo in town, absolutely grot. My room, the size of a bus stop toilet surprising became a 'get out' from the city, quite cold at the time of year I went . You can walk everywhere and if I was to go to HK I would defo make sure that I had planned the trip and what to do there that much more, fair to say a lot of stuff was preparing for closing for the new year, the night time horse racing season was cancelled in expectation etc and there was a general feeling of people moving out of home, but the city was still fascinating from what I saw. Old streets facing onto new and extravagant financial buildings, shops selling every conceivable type of dried up animal part, for food and medicinal purposes, side by side with H&M and Hermes, yeah... was nuts.
My train from HK took me to the industrial city of Ghuangzhou... when you talk to any person from China (those who do talk) or foreigners working there they all say, 'oh, I come from a small industrial city'... they're all industrial cities which says a lot about China.
Little did I know just how difficult it would be to travel in china during CNY. If the question was HOw difficult? the answer is terrifyingly difficult. Land in Ghuangzhou, I know none of the language, they don't speak English and as a rule of thumb until they're corrected, when then they treat you differently, they treat all whiteys as Americans... and they don't like Americans. I get to the train station eventually, rock up to find what can only be described as mass queues trying to get into a circus, rows and rows of people shacked up in tents, side by side, on top of each other, on top of bags.... is this the queue in... thankfully not, the queue was only a couple of hundred people long, the tents were there to house the people who had bought their tickets in advance and now had to wait maybe one, maybe two days before their train was due to depart.
I did a bad thing, when I did, after about an hour get to the ticket desk, the first time I got to the top of the queue I was ushered away from it in typically stone faced communist fashion by a burly guard to in best broken English told me that queue was not for 'me', me I expect is whiteys, so I queued up again and I'm not proud, when I got there, I was told there was no possibility of getting me on a train for at least two days, I pulled out the equivalent of 5 euro in Yuan and slipped it over the counter to him, I was booked, sleeper class on a train to Kunming, my connecting town to try and get into Vietnam, for the next day. My conscience clear of whatever poor commie Chinese farmer peasant I had just bumped off the train I went looking for a place to stay for the night, knowing that next day I was due to embark on a 24 hour train journey across China. I know I keep saying it but its 7 hours down and at worst 4 hours across in Ireland, looking at a map I barely scratched the sheer size of the Chinese mainland with my journey. 24 hours on a train sleeper, a fish in a bowl to everyone around me, the only whitey on there, feeding mainly on snickers and oreos, conversing with a girl the bunk below me only by writing it in text first and then her using her mobile translator.... it had its moments.
But and the end of it all I was in Kunming for what is really their Christmas, there finally I could relax. Picked a hostel and crashed.
Kunming is a fun city, Ill cap quickly, theres not a lot in it but it has a lot to do outside it. Its, again, an industrial city, though not as much industry as others. Part of CNY also meant that all the foreign english teachers were on hols so the hostel was hopping with them, some fun, all arguing the point that their city was much dirtier that the other persons. The day of CNY arrives and hooking up with two South African girls, we hit the town. Instilling the fact I am a light weight in the drinking terms, having affectionately named me 'Irish', clearly because Seamus is too difficult for them, they effectively imbibed me in local liqueur called Bijou... now known to me as 'the Devils shit and piss mixed with burnt hair and spit', a vile liquid if ever there was one conceived. Night started at 8.30pm, it finished for me at 10.30pm, in bed, not well. What happened in between was recounted to me next morning over breakfast, yes, next morning and breakfast, where we had gone to watch the local kids shoot fireworks at each other, one the gals, who is studying in Beijing got into a conversation with an old Chinese guy, known now as 'Grandpa China' for naming purposes, Grandpa China invites us all back to his house for more vile liquid and peanut brittle. At this stage I'm the only thing that's a bit brittle, make it up to his house, his hospitality knowing no bounds he gives us each an apple which, in my drunken delusions of grandeur phase promptly discard having taking a bite of it by throwing it behind my head.... time to go home, however I was assured by the girls that no offense was cause, that I was perfectly civil and veritable joy to be in the company of and that Grandpa China commended my drunkenness on several occasions. job done.
Kunming was completed with a spin to local park full of disgusting pigeons, a trip to a local temple and dining out at a poo and toilet themed restaurant, only the best for me. Leaving Kunming, the typical backpacker coincidence of meeting people at my hostel heading the same way occurred, Sean and Everret from the US and we'd be crossing the border to 'Nam together.
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