A breather in the light

Tribe of Frogz

I pop my head out of the rabbit hole for just a minute to feel the breeze on my face. It gets a bit stuffy down there sometimes, the darkness is infinite and the falling sensation starts to get a little tiring. I can only imagine how it must’ve been for Alice, right after eating that mysterious cake as well! Imagine the indigestion..

I’m on the road again J only a short distance this time, Bristol to London for a weekend away with friends and family. It’s funny playing a different role in the city you’re so used to living in. Walking around with a backpack and a beanie suddenly elicits a cocked head ‘where’s she going’ kind of look while the other backpackers give me a familiar nod. It’s different to the reaction I get when I’m looking slightly hobo-ish in trackies and an oversized jumper keeping my head as low as possible after a night out. That’s when you get the sympathetic look, I once received a pat on the shoulder by a passer by and kind words of ‘you’ll be alright love’ right before a truck swerved an inch from my face. Oh gawd, hide!

Countryside!

The rest of the time I just blend in. It’s great living in such a studenty city, despite the fact that we all look the same with our grey beanies, flannel shirts, black tights and boots – everyone’s of a similar mind-set. Stokes Croft (where I work) has long been known for its outspoken and independent stance. There are lots of gorgeous independent cooperative cafes and I recently learned about the Bristol Pound – I didn’t understand the point of the cartoon-like notes that so few people pulled out of their wallets, but after the barista explained it to me the other day, the light-bulb in my head illuminated. If a currency can only be circulated within one city (only in certain shops/ cafes that give you a discount for using it) and not used outside of it, then the focus on developing Bristol and its independent businesses suddenly grows. A great concept I reckon!

You know I read in the newspaper the other day that the Swiss government was going to start giving everyone an allowance/ free money to allow its civilians to engage in more intrinsic activities and possibly become a happier and more productive population? Sociology on the brainn.

It’s the beautiful season of spring at the moment, we’re inching towards ‘the hottest summer since 1910’ apparently! I’ll be here for a few months of it and then am jetting off to an Australian winter, hmm. I doubt their winter will be much to whine about though ;).

Bus journeys

Bristol is the green capital of the Europe and on all the patches of grass around the city; rich yellow daffodils are sprouting while bluebells sit timidly in clusters close-by. Occasionally, a piece of cherry blossom will get caught in my hair, a pit stop on its journey with the Bristol winds. The clocks went forward on Saturday while we were all spinning around to hard-core psytrance at ‘Tribe of Frog’. Dressed like ‘frogz in space’ we arrived, ciders one hand, fags in the other. One night blends into the next and suddenly we’ve jumped back in time to last week, drummers in white headdresses and glitter galore, hippies sitting around in the tunnel of timbuk2 (the underground club hosting the glitter festival) carving wooden mushrooms and feather hair garments. Mushroom in pocket we skipped along to join the circle of colourful pens and large sheets of paper, I’ll never forget the one boy that spent about two hours writing his name, what was going through his mind during that time I’ll never know. Jump again to the 3-pound electro night at the cavern! Vines spread all over the ceilings, 40 year olds giving passers by drops of trips from a white limo with fluorescent blue lights. Jump. Now we’re at a dub night in attic bar, jamming along to a one-man-band that somehow managed to layer beat boxing, electric guitar, harmonica, rap and live sax in one performance.

Fonthill

The hunt :)

Oooh the feel of music! Doesn’t it just make you squirm? It tingles every part of your body, teasing you, getting your heart racing and then dropping you in mid-air. Leaving you helpless and falling, but it’s there to catch you too! And cradle you and lay you down so that you’re looking above and below and straight ahead all at the same time, breathless and empty but so content. Just yearning to be bathed in the song and let go of physical reality to merge into one with the universe. That’s what a good song does for you anyway and that’s what every weekend has done for us. I remember opening my eyes during one of our jams and peering around the room, not one pair of eyes was focusing on anything else but the music, in a trance of ecstasy and presence everyone was connected together but totally lost at the same time.

Within the last few weeks I’ve turned 20, signed for a house for next year, booked a flight to Aus and almost finished the first year of Uni. Wow, it hits you fast doesn’t it? 

Picnics in St. Andrews :)

J left to Australia a few weeks ago and on our last weekend together (after Paris) we got into our fancy clothes again, somehow managing to get them in and out of the washing machine dry, fairly un-wrinkled and on time; making an effort to play into a more socially acceptable image than scruffy travellers. We stayed at the beautiful Fonthill estate that was once owned by the richest man in England, William Beckford, a highly controversial character due to the fact that he was both traditional, English and gay! His dimes and lavish lifestyle soon slipped through his fingers and everything was sold! Luckily we have the option of going to stay there with family every now and then… so J and I had a lovely weekend together, we sipped (and spilt) wine, ate yummy food, star-fished in big beds and got hot and sweaty… playing squash. We bonded with most of my family members that weekend in a very civilised fashion and both experienced our first British ‘hunt’ with hundreds of hounds, horses and guns. I felt like I’d been transported back to 1920! It was great to watch and so beautifully done; my cousin T wore a GoPro on his head and watching the footage afterwards was a great vicarious moment.

Bathtiime

The most dramatic moment for me at the hunt was attempting to befriend one of the hounds and somehow attracting the whole pack… oh my god, a whole pack of dogs running towards you is not an exciting site…  a man on a big horse had to come galloping over and shoo them all away, not exactly a knight in shining armour but close enough?

André :p.. this guy was drumming
live DnB it was incredible

J and I strolled in the sunshine over the green fields and past the running river to my granny’s ‘vine cottage’. We looked through old photo albums and laughed at all the old hairstyles and flared jeans… It’s quite sad that now photo’s are so abundant to us and we don’t have to go through such a long process of developing them etc. they lose so much of their value. I don’t know how we’re going to choose what photo’s to put in our photo albums when we filter through our Facebook snaps… My granny on the other hand has one photo album for 80+ years! We listened to stories, ate lunch and sipped on coffees before heading back for a cheeky film and a bubble bath. The bus was late leaving my aunties and I made it into uni for my presentation (worth 20% of our final grade) a minute before class started, phew.

We bumped into Panda from
Skins on this night out :)

Hugging trees :)

It’s tough balancing pleasure and work when one always overrides the other, I guess uni’s the one place that you can get away with it right? I savoured the few days that we ate and drank like royals and forgot about student living for a bit. Eating yummy meals at ‘atomic burger’, chai-coffee latte’s at Rojak and drinks at ‘The Social’ after work. Oh work, work, work. Work is… a handful? Being a social carer you have different clients but tend to work with a small handful more closely once you get to know them. I’ve somehow become the primary carer for A.L, a mentally insane woman that has severe autism and amongst many other ‘things’, Münchausen syndrome (a disorder where people pretend to have various illnesses etc.). So some days she’ll be unable to move and other days she’ll be banging her head against the wall and crying/ screaming till she collapses in exhaustion. It’s pretty heavy work but it is rewarding and always different. Despite her madness she does have little moments of being pleasant (little, little, tiny, miniscule moments) but having J waiting outside for a hug after a shift was always the highlight. The day he was supposed to leave he made a spur of the moment decision to delay the flight by a day, ironically a few weeks later when I’s boyfriend was leaving back to Portugal, he happened to delay his trip by a couple days too. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdxYiCd782c)

Frogz in space :)

I was walking home up 'happy lane' the other day, red and flustered from a run around the park. I turned the corner and a surprising influx of bubbles came floating towards me! Each one acted like a little window, the focus was on them but through the transparent layer I suddenly noticed the tree on the side of the wall, it had such delicate branches they looked like they had been sketched out with a fine artists pencil. The bubbles reflected the dusk in micro-rainbows that drifted over the chimney tops and disappeared with silent pops. I stopped to reflect for a moment with the school kids all running past me; 

Recipe of the day: Burgers with fresh figs, Caramelised onions and goats cheese
http://www.jasonandshawnda.com/foodiebride/archives/16510/

Stuck in Snooky

Mm

Typing feels strange after not having sat at a computer for two weeks or so.. it’s funny how things like writing or typing start to feel strange when the habit’s taken away. Since my last post a lot has happened. We’ve found a place to live for a while, managed to land ourselves jobs at a beach-side bar/ guesthouse, discovered a lovely new community of people, aand have had our motorbike stolen, after 3 days. But before Snookyville takes off, we began Cambodia in Pnom Penh, the capital city.

Witnessing the dramatic fire in Pnom Penh..

We’d left Laos in a rush, a groggy head from a funny night out (the poem describes it sufficiently), a long bus ride and a valium later we arrived, 4 hours late, in Pnom Penh. It was funny going through immigration and walked across ‘no mans land’, a huge strip of land between Cambodia and Laos, that no one owns, walking across it was liberating. On the last couple of hours of our bus journey the people on our bus were split in half, those going to Siem Reap were told they’d have to wait another few hours before their bus was due to arrive – getting anywhere in the dark isn’t fun, the hassle of tuk tuk drivers, finding a hostel, settling down. We sighed in relief that we were leaving first.

Bodhi Villa, Kampot

Having a good shower in a cement-room with a big bed was such a luxury. Not having to worry about cockroaches scuttling over your toes or popping up under the sheets. We had dinner with our new mates, newly wed psytrance DJ’s from Burmingham A and T. We all inhaled the slowness of P.P and crashed out after a long day of travelling. The next day the others went off to the Killing Fields and S21 but I’d felt once was enough, so went to run a few errands, getting lost in the gridded map of the city to hunt down the Cambodian Red Cross, effort. That night we all needed a bit of lightening up, so we checked out the night life; from a yummy dinner, to a good drink to a fancy club (Pontoon, recommended by lonely planet ;) ) we came out of it giggling but slightly disturbed. The amount of prostitutes everywhere is shocking, most of them are so young and pretty you wouldn’t think it, until she crawls slowly up an old white man’s knee and proceeds to chat him up. After a conversation that neither understand he pays the bill, takes her hand and drives away casually, with her on the back of his motorbike. The ‘madame’ of them all walked around, giving sunflower seeds to the girls that then gave them to the child beggars running around. It was twisted how she looked after the scene yet it was the wrong one to be in. She strolled over, massaged J’s head for $1, offered him a prostitute and after a polite refusal, walked away with a smile. We wondered over to Pontoon, bodyguards lined the corridor, checking for drugs, weapons and ‘pregnant women’, hm. The drinks were expensive, old men and young girls swarmed, and the visuals on the wall kept swirling. The vibe was strange and yawns contagious so we headed home.
The next morning an odd series of events took place, on arrival at a nearby temple, J and I’s heads floated and our eyes gazed at the carvings in the rock. We were lead by an old Cambodian man into a little shrine room containing various Buddha’s and paintings on the wall. Some still had their plastic wrappers on which confused me a little. He began passing us incense, spraying water on our hands and muttering silent prayers, as though a ritual had begun. The heat rose in the little shrine and the smell of the incense made us light headed. It all ended and then the twist came, he motioned over to the Buddha’s hands for money. I smirked and put a note into the charity box. Hoping it wasn’t a lie to live up to the rare nickname ‘Scambodia’, we wandered away, dazed by what had just happened. We walked along the river, ate noodles and corn, drank ice coffee in plastic bags and watched the most bizarre ‘live aerobics’ right next to the road. We managed to find a riverside bar and play a game on the fancy pool table with the shiny balls, our Canadian couple met us for a Mexican dinner and it all ended sprawled on a sofa, after attempting to explain (with diagrams), what 1 scoop of chocolate and 1 scoop of vanilla ice cream meant. It was finally ‘understood’ and of course dessert was served, 2 scoops vanilla, haha we tried.

Sihanoukville

The next day we journeyed through busy, hot markets and attempted to find the yoga centre that was closed. Tarantula’s and crickets were being sold by the bag, with a pinch of salt and a dash of lime. Fruits were abundant and women lounged next to their stalls in hammocks strung around wooden beams. We had to get back to the guesthouse to move rooms, it felt like constantly moving house. We laughed at the prospect of being together for a few months, yet already moving houses in different countries within that time. We walked passed the big ‘$2 English Breakfast! Free Coffee/ Tea’ sign, what a good find. We decided we didn’t want to get stuck in one place for too long, it’s so easy to do when travelling, the need for stability. So we bought a bus ticket to Kampot to hit up ‘Bokor National Park’ and stay at an old time favorite ‘Bodhi Villa’, we were splitting a gorgeous double room adorned with fairy lights, for $2.50 each p/n. We spent the day lounging in the pool before catching our bus. Within that time we witnessed a distressing scene between a drunk Frenchman and the manager of the guesthouse. All you could really see was him shouting and swearing as they calmly told him what he’d done wrong. It was embarrassing to see that as another foreigner, it only takes a few cases to affect the image of the masses. The bus ride was cramped and long, the hot air blowing in through the windows was cooler and more efficient than the AC’s. Luckily Angry Birds was the one thing that worked on our new (broken) tablet. We arrived 4 or more hours late as expected, and settled in to the relaxed vibes. We entered into a conversation at one point in the night, with a ‘local dealer’ from East London. He told us stories of his 10 years in jail, his new start and ironically, his flower business back home that funds his travels. He began speaking to us as a ‘Connoisseur of Marijuana’, describing treatments, life-spans, effects, ladidadida. I zoned out and wandered off until realizing it was time for bed.

Kampot’s a beautiful little French Colonial Town, with a newly built, pristine highroad that leads directly to Bokor National Park. We’d decided to rent a bike for the day, the prospect of having a smooth road beneath us seemed inviting and the 2 hour ride was worth every minute. J was ill before the ride, the wake-up alarm ‘Say My Name’ was stuck in my head and it was hot. But the moment we got going everything was better. Pink, pungent  Bouganvillier lined the perfect road and the bends in the road were fun to ride. We thought we were heading off to trek past tigers and jungle, but our experience was rather surprising. We stopped off at huge water towers, a few old buildings that had been destroyed with graffiti and an ‘old casino’ over looking an expansive view of dense forest, sea and sky.  We meditated on specific spots and created visuals in the trees. A brand new Casino had just been built a few hundred metres away, so we thought we’d check out our luck on a few arcade games, for 10 minutes or so? That 10 minutes turned into hours, as the rain began pouring down and we realized we couldn’t ride our soaking bikes, so would just have to stay. After losing $5 to 3 games and not understanding why, I walked away from gambling and we ordered some of their extortionately priced food. We looked around and laughed. It was such a tacky place, purple velvet, a million patterns on every surface, over-dressed women and men, fancy dining room but not fancy food, the two best adjectives to destroy it would be fancy but fake. We entertained ourselves by running through the dark corridors of this huge casino, being watched at every turn by one of the many staff in the vicinity. A funny Italian man with no shoes ran up to us, obviously stuck in the same situation, jabbering on before running off again to have a 5 minute massage for $1. The rain finally eased and we shivered back down the slippery road to check out the local zoo, the sun was setting so we chose to skip it, raising our eyebrows as our bike slowed down halfway back from the zoo. We rolled ourselves over to a little wooden house, filled up our fuel tank and kept going, off to ‘The Rusty Keyhole’ for the ‘Best Ribs in Cambodia Award 2 years running’. We drove back along the bridge, with the river flowing away from us, and the multicolored collection of clouds spanning the sky. A few games of checkers and pool (with a blunt pool cue) later we were battling the mosquito’s out of our net and falling asleep.

Jack being massaged in P.P by the madame

The next morning a routine was established, breakfast, a swim in the lake, a meditation, a spliff. We sat over the river on a few planks of floating wood that had a table and a rubber ring on it to sit and eat breakfast. We booked our ticket to Sihanoukville and got in another hot, sweaty bus with no air flow, to finally arrive in stunning Snooky. It was full moon party soon so we thought about jumping aboard a boat to Koh Rong where it was all going down.. but the $20 put us off and the sea beckoned.We jumped in, gasping at how warm the water was (33 degrees!), it was more refreshing to stand on the beach. Exploring up and down the coast we bumped into our Canadians again, laughing and settling on drinks that evening.

Another sticky bus ride

The next day was supposed to be ‘Job Hunt day’ but being offered a puff of a strangers spliff (this 64 year old organic farmer from Tennessee that’s cycling around South East Asia alone – what a story!) and making new friends just prioritized itself and the mission got pushed back another day. The following morning productivity kicked in and we booked a boat cruise for $10 with our new mates, and got jobs (with game faces on). The full moon party was that evening so we hopped between a live house DJ on our beach to the crazy, greasy, grime of Serendipity – the party beach. We had $2 fish n chips with another couple outside the notoriously cheap hostel ‘Utopia’, and then we bumped into just about everyone who’d come this route – Luang Prabang, Vang vieng and the 4000 island crew. We raved all night on the beach and then jumped on a bike to get home. Halfway through our journey the driver freaks out and the tuk-tuk in front of us stops. Around us are hundreds of little shiny metal thumbtacks thrown across the road to burst tires (usually a ploy for mugging people) so I stuffed my money and camera down my shorts and walked over to the tuk-tuk with J that was taking us back instead – we arrived safe and sound.. :p We’d danced with prostitutes, played pool with lady boys and joked with drug dealers, it was all happening in Serendipity.

The ridiculous New Casino

The boat cruise was a good idea to just do something, it was fun seeing cheetah fish and mermaiding around the ropes, it was nice to have a few girls on the scene for a change. The best thing about travelling is meeting up with friends and doing things doesn’t require planning or stress. It either happens or it doesn’t – and it usually does. The Boat rocked over little waves in the turquoise ocean, the colors here couldn’t be any more beautiful. Emerald wooden boats over blue waters, green palm trees and fresh coconuts. It’s like Google images topped off with the odd HD sunset, the colour scheme going from dark purple to light orange/ pink across the sky. Various difficulties do exist in paradise, lighting anything on the beach (the wind is not your friend), the (sometimes) angry dogs, the sand flies, rubbish (that comes in the form of nasty fishing hooks, the odd syringe and needle and plastic bags – mostly due to the fisherman chucking out their waste) and power cuts (when the air’s still and the fan isn’t working in bed, eek!) but besides that we’re in our element here. You barely need any clothes or technology, the people we live and work with are lovely, our room’s great, the sand squeeks, our job’s social and the rest of our day is appreciated instead of wasted. The only dramas that have happened here so far is the other huge hostel on Serendipity 'Monkey Republic' being burnt down (burning the 3 adjacent shops in the process) and our motorbike being stolen, so that’ll be $650 dollars to replace..

There’s a Saturday night market here, where live music (didgeridoo’s, latin singers, tribal drummers etc) play, food, jewels and clothes are sold from little stalls and the bar’s in the corner. Everyone sat on straw mats, watched the live music and inhaled the whisps of night air. A& T had just been in a head on Tuk-Tuk collision so were a bit shaken up, on our ride back we had 7 of us squashed in, and their expressions weren’t exactly at ease. The next night at the psytrance rave they let loose a little and sat on the beach watching the lightening storm move across the sky with an open mind and crazy visuals, while I crashed out in our little room with a sore tummy. 

TopCat!

Night swimming here is incredible here, as the  bio luminescent plankton are out. They glow because of a chemical reaction 'chemiluminescents' that is caused because of an oxidation reaction with the 'luciferins' that create the glow - it's magical. We waded through the water with glowing bubbles appearing as we moved. You could make dragon balls, swords and swirly shapes, swimming underwater was like being in space watching a million stars run past you.. the vaist starry sky above us reflecting the vision. The light only travelled a short distance but other people were experiencing the wander too, so all that could be seen was a dark head floating eerily above the water. The paranoia of unknown sea creatures popping up around us kicked in, so we jumped out of our transfixed gaze and onto land. A & T were cozy for their last night in a mushroom  (bungalow’s shaped like shrooms) at ‘mushroom point’ and we headed back to our place. Work was interesting the next day, meeting a man that works with wormwood, a restricted product as of 2000, to brew his own absinthe and go around selling it to bars/ people in the area. He told us about it’s psychoactive and tummy healing properties. He was a character, tall and lanky with tattoo’s, dark clothes and long black hair, but he knew how to market his product! Our bar happily bought a bottle. We later ran into our old French family member S and our Vang Vieng boys D & T, catching up on the last few weeks of everyone’s adventures. Showing him the ropes and our favorite hang out spots, dodging cockroaches on the sofa and passing out in a hammock... we had a good evening.

A viewpoint in Kampot

On our day off we rented a bike and headed into town, panicking as the debit card was refused in all machines and realizing I was trying to use one that I’d cancelled already. Duh. So we drove back and forth, got money out eventually, explored the market, had a coconut sticky rice cake, drank a cold ice coffee, did a bit of shopping and went to ‘TopCat Cinema’s’. An incredible creation in which you pay $4 to have a private room with a flat screen TV and a huge bed, the biggest selection of movies, series, documentaries or play station games. Order your own pizza, crisps or drinks and settle down for hours. We bought a bottle of wine, smoked a J and watched ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’ and ‘The Truman Show’ happily until our time was up. We enjoyed the AC, the cushions and the wine, appreciating the clean environment. We’ve got in with our bosses, made some good new connections,explored the town and are completely in love. I don’t know how we’ll ever leave, we're in Stuckville, but no one's complaining..

Recipe of the day: Chicken Amok

http://www.bigoven.com/recipe/250266/chicken-amok