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/

And the waves rise and fall

Another beautiful day in paradise; turquoise glints off the ocean surface, the marriage between the sunshine and the water , the yin and yang. I'm smiling as i look out at the island 2km from here, we managed to swim there and back 2 days ago, an accomplishment we're proud of. We woke up that morning, work started at 3pm that day and I had itchy feet.. living on the beach is lovely and the vibe is always relaxed, but there are those sparks of wanting to do things, explore, continue to grow and be excited. It was one of those mornings "We're swimming to Koh Otress this morning!" I pounced on J. and got a few sleepy grunts in response and a tight squeeze. Persistance won, so we grabbed a good breakfast, an ice coffee and a cig, listening to everyone's advice about what to bring/ do etc. The advice on the currents was one we took into account, so we biked up to 'Otress 2', the next beach to our left about 20 minutes away. Smothered in sun cream, the sky was cloudless and the air thick. We wondered through 'Golden Sunset guesthouse' where mum and I stayed on all of our previous trips. A little hug and a chat later, our bike keys were in safe hands and we'd set off. J dragging half a bottle of water tied to his drawstring, for when we arrived. We lost each other a few minutes in, carried by the tides and different speeds - my goggles started leaking about 5 minutes in but sight wasn't really necessary as long as you kept track of the landmark every now and then. We spent an hour swimming, jellyfishing and meditating through the sea to the coral on the shores of the island. After 45 minutes, your mind just stops thinking and focuses on your strokes, breathing, the heat, like any exercise. There were occasional moments of fear and vulnerability, halfway between the 2 islands, seeing nothing beneath you but dark blue and slowly spinning around to face the terrifyingly HUGE cloud of ... seaweed, phew. Before we reached the island the details on the trees came into view, the fish amongst the coral, the spiky sea urchins that we avoided narrowly by lifting our bellies and squidding over them. The rubbish was sadly a sign aswell, plastic bags resembling huge jellyfish and coca cola cans, talk about a monopoly, they just have advertisements everywhere..We didn't choose the best time to go, it was 11am and the sun was roasting. Hours after we arrived back, one look at my tomato-red face said it all. It's dropped a few shades on the colour scale thus far, thanks to the fresh Aloe Vera leaves that the ladies around here sell. The peeling's just kicked in, grreat... 
On the Island we met the one person that lived there, a seemingly simple Khmer man in a basic hut, surrounded by mounds of rubbish and half constructed foundations. It was a shame the Russians that owned it hadn't done more to look after it when the potential was crazy. I sat and meditated, facing the islands around us and the expanse of sea. The swim back was more tiring, requiring more songs to be sung and thoughts to be thought. It felt like high school swim practise all over again, with no ropes either side of you to flop out over.
It hasn't all been fun and games here though, 'for every action, there is an equal and  opposite reaction' and that definately rings true.. straight after my last post, we had a big night out in 'Serendipity'. It looked even worse this time, it wasn't as packed so people weren't hiding the grimy bars and dodgy dealings. The night however was young and fun, energy picked up in a seconds and we were steaming around with our mates, watching the show of the teenage girls wrestling in bikini's lathered in soap, to the dancefloor to go crazy, a smoking break to catch our breath and a swim to cool off. Everyone was going skinny dipping, and despite our states, the warning 'don't leave your stuff unnatended on the beach' rang in our ears, so we asked a man to watch our clothes for a few dollars. Swimming with the phosphorescents we looked over at the shore to see the sillhouettes of a group of guys rummaging through our stuff. The one we'd paid sat there looking oblivious to everything: 'I don't know, I don't know'. Every pocket had been rifled through and everyone's money, Iphones, bank cards were gone. I spotted my  rolled up money that had been dropped on the sand as they ran away. I thought back to the blessing I'd been given that morning by the monk, and let out a grateful sigh. That night was dramatic, racing around finding the police, boys getting rowdy, everyone getting pissed off, police found, guy beaten up, nothing solved.
 

A few nights later at the big 'Cambodian New Year Party' we had a wild night. Flames soaring up bathroom walls, craters in the sand, millions of shooting stars, hours of laughing and swirly hands - but through it all we were aware not to bring anything valuable. The next night, hoping to snap some good pics with our girls from Laos and our lovely couple M and H, a blues rocker from Aus and a sweet, quirky Canadian - we bought my camera out. J and I were playing a game of pool with 2 other guys we'd just met, not wanting to hold onto my bag I left it a metre away from me, against the wall, in direct view. A few pool shots later, I turn around and it's gone. Photos from Cambodia, camera, $60, important documents and 'The.green.bag'. Later we're warned about 'how much gets stolen at Ritchies' - great.
Oohh the difficulty of the language barrier when buying things.. I remember trying to ask for where 'tampons' were and had the shop assistant 'subtly' shout it out across the floor repeatedly, soon the shop was like a group of seagulls from Finding Nemo 'tampons? tampons? tampons?' I blushed and hung my head laughing as they figured it out and quietened down; despite the difficulty we've since replaced my moleskin diary with a shit one, bought another camera, and a little peacock bag from Otress market. When I bought the camera, I turned it on to look a the picture quality and discovered that it, like mine, was a stolen camera and memory card. Another blonde, similar aged backpackers photo's were in my hands - and so the loop continues. Realizing the corruption surrounding the place is really sad. Sihanoukville is an amazing place, but like everywhere, it's dark side exists as well: Everywhere on this beach is illegally leased, ready to be destroyed and over-taken by the government any day. The police collect bribes monthly to allow for no taxes, and weed to be openly smoked. Half the monks check out girls more than the any other guy around and the guys that sell you your motorbikes, steal them too. Our motorbike was stolen and a few days later, our owner's happened to inherit a brand new bike - curious. Luckily, our replacement bike stopped working and his was the only other option, so at least we've landed ourselves with a functioning one, temporarily. But the thing is, despite knowing you're in the right, there's nothing you can do about it, because the power doesn't belong to you. Our boss is being accused of selling dope by the chief of police - whether it was a nearby competitor that lied, or the tuk tuk driver around the corner, their word is always stronger than yours. The other day I was talking to a mate that served in the British army, my mouth hung as I listened to how ships were used to transport drugs across the border. Who do you trust when those that serve to protect, are hypocrites?

The weather describes the events that occur here pretty well. Stunning days to cloudy skies to flash lightening storms that we just sit and watch in the shallows of the sea. The sunsets reflect every colour, the cartoon clouds changing shape every minute. The rain comes, the mood shifts, the 'still' returns and then it's sunny again. And all throughout the wind and rain, there's one tree above our bedroom that inhabits every bird in Sihanoukville, and they tweet away all night and all day. Other guesthouses nearby choose to use synthetic background noise, the speakers outside their doors blare 'rainforest sounds' to passers by. The novelty wears off after a few minutes, staying there for longer than that? No thanks.

We've got  a different crew here, The German girls, The Estonian girls, T, S, M, K&T, The Asian stoner from Luxemburg and a new face M. It's lovely having familiar faces from along the way pass by in waves, now we're on to our Frenchy S, and E and his girls from The Isle of White. Most of the long-timers live with us in the 'Sunshine House' accompanied by 4 naughty little kittens. Next door where we work 2 little puppies Ronnie and Reggie (The Cray twins) have joined the gang. We're bringing up the next generation of Otress animals - chasing after them as they run next door for a shit or get their heads stuck in motorbike wheels, naughty buggers.
One photo I lost that I can't get out of my head is those kids running through the smoke as the fire rose around a square of land near Serendipity. Driving through the smoke was hot . I closed my eyes and held my breath, imagining what it would be like to be caught in a fire like that and shaking off the thought. We drove 45 minutes away to the waterfalls we clambered up the rocks, watched the monks bathing in the clear water with their bright orange robes. We sat in the hammock briefly before resorting to the floor after being charged $4, pshh..  
We escaped the sun with a trip to TopCat, so far we've fit in 'Argo', 'The Shawshank redemption', 'American Psycho', 'American Beauty', 'Sin City', 'Mars Attacks' and a few more I'm sure we can't remember. All of them, were great if you're looking for one to watch. From where I'm sitting I can see a dog curled up in a circle chair, the look on it's face is 100% relaxed and comfortable - the goal. A phone's ringing and I don't respond to it like I used to before, it's nice not having a phone or something to constantly check. The disconnection with technology apart from the occasional Facebook update makes you feel so much more connected to what's going on around you. When you're engaged on the phone it's as though nothing around you really exists, having one almost takes away a part of your presence.
I wonder if humans will ever get to a point where we'll be conditioned to prefer technology over nature, I'm glad it doesn't satisfy every need just yet.
Good tunes are coming from our place, it's so nice now that our other bosses R & K don't have an influence over the music.. Taylor Swift and Nicky Minaj were getting old..


I smile as I remember what the space cookies had turned the night into. Kicking in faster than expected the last few hours of work went in slow motion as I sat useless at the bar, G. had passed out on a chair in the middle of the courtyard, eyes were red and spirits high. My boss S wonders behind the bar with red eyes and I whisk him up a munchie- shake -overload of 'fake oreos', milk, bananas, chocolate sauce and whipped cream - he was happy. The cinnamon from the cookie resonating in our mouths. 4.20 was celebrated in an appropriate fashion. J got a blind taste test with the tropical fruit he claims to hate. We had a few winners :) At the wee hours we ordered $3 wraps from the wrap man that will deliver amazing chicken wraps to you at any hour of the night - our hero. A conversation about vaporizers took off and I came to the conclusion that if the government legalized weed and vaporizers were encouraged, they could decrease health risks and make money, wouldn't that work?
Work.. that's starting in an hour or so. I'm glad I've finally bonded with 'Tida', the 18 year old chef who's taught me to make Lok Lak, Spicy Khmer chicken salad and coconut curry, easy and delicious! She doesn't speak much English but can play connect 4, snap and now backgammon :) - it was funny trying to teach someone a game without words, if everyone learnt sign language our troubles would be over. I washed my hands and little brown specs came out in the water - gross. The other day a mate told me that when it rains and the tanks overflow the sewage mixes into the water tanks.. hmm.. we're not dead yet i guess?

The puppies are tumbling around the place like 19 year old boys and the kittens are in their box. Yesterday J and I went to check out all the other beaches in the area. Rife with tacky, expensive Russian resorts and empty beaches we swam and played. On the way we explored an empty club that had a huge airplane in the middle of it and the DJ booth had been modeled out of the front of a truck - bizarre. We drove on and stopped to watch the baby monkeys jump around clumsily hanging off the netting attached to a nearby tree. The dogs are barking again - I can't tell you the amount of dog politics around here - the beach dogs control the turf. The other night we were driving back, after my usual 10 minutes of paranoia as I looked around for the policeman that would stop us, the guy that would mug us and the bump that would make us crash again. A mad-eyed dog started chasing the bike and we zoomed down the bumpy dust road to Sunshine, eventually losing it. We returned to meet a man that like was on the run for a longer stretch of time, from the Thai and Cambodian governments.. I shiver to think what I'd do in that situation..

Swimming this morning was beautiful, diving below the surface to swim alongside a camouflaged crab as it scuttled over a piece of white coral and dissapeared into the surrounding blur. It's almost Saturday but the Otress market isn't on anymore. I remember at the last one, during one of the performances, as though in a dream everyone's eyes became transfixed on the petite, enchanting blonde with the hula hoop infront of the stage, she spun it and danced with it, curling her body to every beat played on stage it was amazing. After the act we went over to the stalls, buying a backgammon board made out of scraps of hammocks from all over India to assist us on our travels. I fancy a game now before getting on our feet again - tough life.

Recipe of the day: Lok-Lak

http://www.food.com/recipe/beef-lok-lak-cambodian-recipe-496461

The last of Laos

The group's down to the original two and J. and I are getting used to not having Lads in every crack and crevice. Suddenly having to research and organize things ourselves, we've entered a rather uncomfortable realm. Usually it's B. with his lonely planet out, giving us directions about how much money we were all going to need for 'this' bus to 'there'. Now it was all up to us, what?
J and I sat on the bus on the way to 4000 islands, it had been an 18 hour journey since Vang Vieng where we'd said goodbye to the troops. The 'guide' at the front of the bus was shouting out the names of various islands between rather loud gibberish that no one understood. We heard '’Don Det’, for young people!' and decided that was our best bet. I looked at J. puzzled 'we're going to the beach right?' I was picturing 4000 sunny islands of paradise with palm trees and pina coladas. 'Jess Laos is Landlocked'.. oh. It turns out over 3000 of the islands are rock formations about the size of my hand, mangroves and mud line the sides of the rivers and the only really affordable island is ‘Don Det’, where we luckily landed ourselves. The other day we floated down tubes joking about how we’d organize our lives on these islands. ‘Grandma can sit on that one in her rocking chair, the rest of the family can go on ‘Don Khong’ (the island attached to ours)’ but the rule is never to cross the bridge. And all our mates would be on ours.’ So that’s a goal to work towards..

Our opinion of the island's changed since we've been here. At first it looks a little run down, hippy joints line the main street from the small beach/ port where the boats arrive, the guesthouses generally consist of a basic room, a bed and a fan, all you need really. The prices are more than the mainland due to import tax, especially the essentials: suncream, crisps and rizzla’s, it’s been difficult. But after a few days here, I have a new found appreciation for the place. We arrived, nackered after 18 hours and still groggy from the valium (a necessity for sleeper buses) and dumped our bags in our bungalow at ‘sunset guesthouse’ where we were paying $3 each a night, steep I know. We settled into the groove of the island pretty fast after a drink and a happy brownie at ‘Adams Bar’, our new favourite hang-out spot. They play any movie you want throughout the day and ‘Get Him to The Greek’ was the chosen one. Halfway through the movie we looked at each other and laughed, after slagging off the brownie it had finally kicked in, and the world was a happy place that then got happier after a munchathon of snickers, ice cream and all that good cholesterol building munch. It was funny sitting next to the roti truck, eyes red, mouths watering, to then bump into our opposites – a Canadian couple that we’d seen on and off since Hanoi where we’d bunked together. They walked passed, eyes red, with a bar of chocolate sticking out of C’s top left pocket. Haha, fate. We went back and paid for our food at Adam’s and were directed towards the managers bedroom. I opened the door to see a crate of marijuana, as she sat on her bed delicately picking the buds. The ‘normality’ of the situation just made me gape. On our return to our bungalow, the local insect community decided to welcome us and J. got fully involved in the mosquito war as the cockroaches proceeded to crawl out of the toilet seat, and the bins, and the windows. I lay still, on our bed, feeling the beats of the fan and taking deep breaths through the stifling heat. Our mosquito net was full of holes that kind of matched the holes in our walls and ceiling. The smell from the bathroom was getting too much so J. cello-taped all the cracks in the room, opened the windows and soon joined me, knocked out by the heat, we both lay there in heated dreams.
The next day started with our groups tradition, ‘coffee and Cigarrettes’ (roll the ‘R’ as you say it). A meditation and a swim in the lagoon later we’d rented bicycles and were off across the rickety bridges, bumpy roads and into the bamboo forests that were covered in ash from all the recent burning (they burn the bamboo/ foliage every year to fertilize the ground and make space for new crops). We discovered the waterfalls that gushed around us. They weren’t as ‘serene’ as Luang Prabang but the jagged rocks gave the place a pre-historic feel, dinosaurs would have made the scene complete. After a dip in the top of the waterfalls we made our way down to the bottom, passing a dark sunkissed man that sat inbetween two windswept rods of bamboo that made the perfect border around him. The colours were sandy and the heat was strong, it felt like we were in a desert, and the thought of my empty bottle of suncream made my skin glow. We walked down and found a few other backpackers baking on the beach. The swells in the water were strong and little whirlpools formed all over the place. The sun slowly sank and we cycled to the ‘viewpoint’ before heading back. Never have I seen such a vast expanse of sky and water, it was so still and serene with one or two long boats disturbing the flat water with a ripple or two – the pictures don’t do it justice. We rode back as the sun went down, spotting mini wind-tornado’s that swept up the dry leaves and dust. A full day in the sun had taken it’s toll, we’d stop now and then for breaks as our legs tingled and the world spun. We got back, realizing J. had lost his shirt, and after getting into a new one we met our Canadian couple for a long awaited dinner. The conversation flowed and lead to a game of kings cup, a drunken go at pool and an after party at the beach. Huddles of people crowded in the dark around little candles that had been dotted all over the beach. The flower fumes soon got too much and food was in order. 4 mad-eyed teenagers rampaged around town, asking every person, restaurant and shop if they had any food, we managed to scavenge yogurt, 6 baguettes and chocolate sauce – result. As we got back to our guesthouse we opened the bamboo barrier to get in and I jumped as the buffalo immediately herded their way inside, followed by a pack of barking dogs. We looked at each other in fear and slowly, with panicked eyes we walked back to our bungalow, arriving without a scratch.
The next day was ‘mong-day’, one of a few. We bought a bowl of flowers' that cost less than a bar of chocolate, and ended the day with a social drink at '4000 islands bar’ and a few familiar faces. We decided activities were in need and booked a kayaking trip for 8am the next morning with a group we’d hooked up with. With minutes to spare we jumped out of bed, having missed our alarm and made our way to breakfast that was part of the package. Somewhere between before and after breakfast, J’s shoes were stolen, so he walked barefooted towards the kayaks by the port. We hopped into double kayaks and headed down the lagoon, past the buffalo’s lapping water inbetween mangroves. ‘Check out those Pigs having sex!’ J. screamed out, motioning towards the river bank, the Japanese kayakers beside us roaring in laughter. We stopped at the small waterfalls that we’d been to a few days before, had a little cool down and hopped back in our kayaks to head to lunch. There were huge wooden contraptions all over the place that were used everywhere for catching catfish. The animal diversity isn’t big here, but they do have a lot of lizards. When we stopped for lunch we were greeted by little kids running around. A lot of the little boys held wooden sticks with a circle of plastic string at the end – used for catching lizards. As painful as it was watching them squash and throw around these lizards, it did make me smile seeing kids playing in nature as opposed to sitting in a cybercafé. We ate lush watermelon, banana’s and fried rice before hopping back in the water and kayaking to the border of Cambodia. At the border the guide told us all to stop rowing and look up, there we sat, in silence, as the Irrawaddy dolphins glided in and out of the water infront of us. They were eventually steered away by the motor boats that joined us but it was such an incredible moment that none of us expected would happen. We made our way to the ‘biggest cascade of waterfalls in south east asia’ that required a tuk tuk ride and a walk. As we arrived I look over at the rock with the best view to see a crowd of monks all in light orange attire admiring the waterfall. Behind them was white serenity. Foaming water over jagged grey rocks – we ran up to the rock with the monks and looked down, 2 bloated dogs floated beneath us, smashing against the sharp rocks in time to the waterfall’s blows. It was enough of a warning sign to remind us of the waterfall’s strength. After everyone had enough photo’s, we headed back to the river, where I made friends with a group of little girls – losing a wet towel to the current in the process :s. We arrived back, exhausted and sunburnt. We had a group dinner and a few flower fumes for ‘L’s last night’ as he slowly lay down with a smile after a happy brownie or two... The night ended typical J&J style, the only sounds that could be heard were the crunches of crisps and the rustling of packets.
We’d planned a mong day but made the effort to adventure on – renting tubes to float down the river, hopefully not missing the ‘last stop’ and ending up like the dogs at the bottom of the waterfalls that lay ahead. J. had bought a $1.50 bottle of tiger whiskey for St. Paddy’s day (on the bottle it read ‘Sweet and Mellon instead of ‘Mellow’, if they couldn’t spell their slogan right, was the percentage of alcohol wrong too?), the bottle was soon gone as it slipped through his hands and towards the muddy bottom in a matter of a minutes – probably best.
We fought the current and gave up, ending up back at the main port in a new group of people who we spent the rest of the night with at the ‘Herb Garden Party’ out in the rice fields. We all showered up and the boys sorted out their lost room key. It turns out they don’t have any spares here, so the manager walked up to the door, squeezed the lock, and it popped open. Fab security. Hair styles were all decided upon and the party begun with many rounds of ’21, bing bang boom, grunt’ etc. all managed without a deck-o-cards. Pizza was all baked in their make-shift clay oven, and the ‘unlimited till 9’ booze was in the bucket in the corner. The toilet was nifty, made out of bamboo with a bin of rice kernels to scoop in after your business was done. The host of the party was a couple that had been here for a year and looked a little loony. She was doing all the admin and looked at us with glazed eyes and huge pupils, her voice dragging out every word. We sat in a group and ‘Manny’ the manager of ‘Happy Bar’ walked over to us, a J in his hand and a cricket on his leg – his new friend, that was soon transferred to K. for the rest of the night (he stopped freaking out after 20 minutes). The dogs that continuously scratched their fleas all over the place proved to be a bit more of a nuisance than the cricket.. We woke up with a hang-over and it turned into another mong-day, lying comfortably in one bar and walking lazily to the next, waking ourselves up with a jolt as we jumped off the 5m plank outside ‘Reggae Bar’ into the Mekong. Tomorrow our Visa runs out so we’ve got to jump the border to Cambodia then.
I can’t believe we’re here already, our time with the lads in Vang Vieng went so fast, here goes an attempt at summing it up..
Vang Vieng was amazing. One day was spent at the swimming pool, hoping to get in without a ticket but having to buy one anyway, boys hanging their goods out over the rails to poor freaked out tourists on long boats, after-sun sessions and fish and chips for dinner, learning about Jn’s mayo obsession in all its glory. One day a huge group of us went cycling to the waterfalls that we never found, arriving home and looking for my wallet, (containing $400 and my debit card), that was never found and having group dinners in front of family guy or friends. The day after was a day for women – whether it was labour day or international womens day I don’t know, but it was awesome – women stumbling over each other by the Mekong, tubing down the river, completely.pissed. It was nice seeing the girls let loose for a change, stumbling men get boring after a while.. Showers were wasted in this weather as perspiration was endless. One night we agreed on fancy dress, pulling together the few scraps we had in our limited wardrobe for ‘Jungle Party’. The night started in the Irish Bar with some incredibly strong drinks, a few games of 21, a bonfire and a rave. The night ended with drunk kisses, tears and a sore heart... Feeling alone in someone’s company being the shittiest parts of travelling away from home... ‘Jn. the stripper’ lightened the mood, followed by a tied up T. a drunk Frenchman in the shower and a tomato on our ceiling – living with Lads is a laugh. The card was sorted out the next morning, and yet another trip to the police station was called for to get a report written – it was fast and efficient, the police here being 10x more helpful than in Vietnam. The night that followed was my last of being 18, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. We played darts at the Irish bar, danced at Buddha bar and shotted tequila at moon bar. 00:00 struck and the DJ played ‘Happy Birthday’ as I squeezed T. and J. for setting it up. That night we met Lala, avoided the creepy little drug dealer and I met my ‘sister’ who had the same ‘going out alter-ego as me’, exciting stuff. After closing time, our room was soon full again, and we somehow chose one phrase to learn in each of our languages, mumbling in Spanish, Dutch, French and Greek, our food hunt at 3am hadn’t been a success but our acquisition of new phrases had! The bedsheets were inked with multi-lingual ‘Happy birthday’s’ that we only remembered in the morning. (‘Neuken in de Keuken op de keukentafel’ is how you say our phrase in Dutch, if you were wondering ;) ) Daytime came, the police report was picked up and a big breakfast at the Irish Bar was called for. Cake and pressie time came around (& a free bottle of lao wine!) and I laughed as most of them had a message about ‘not losing anything’ on them.. we hopped in a tuk tuk and headed to the blue lagoon. Seeing an older group on the way who’d just falled off their bicycles and scraped a knee made us cringe as we thought back to a few weeks ago. The blue lagoon was beautiful, we floated in rings and swung off swings, ‘No smoking Weed’ signs scattered the place, a volleyball court to the left and a few metres above lay ‘Gollum’s cave’ that we explored for hours. At one point we all stopped to break, and got to know the guys we were walking with. Coincidentally we’re all sharing the same Halls at Leeds Uni – the world only gets smaller. We finally reached the lagoon again, just in time to watch a huge English guy jump from the highest branch of the tree, do a backflip and land perfectly in the rubber ring floating beneath him, it was the cherry on top of an amazing day. By the end of it, we were spent and in denial about leaving so we decided to stay an extra day while time was still on our side. Night time involved authentic pineapple crumble and a movie in bed.. our last night together.

Morning time came and adrenaline was ON. Coffee, cigarettes, packing, paying the manager who we’d never met, breakfast at the Irish bar (a last steak baguette), goodbyes, facebook details, bus station. Tears were shed as the family hugged goodbye and their bus headed away from us and towards Thailand. I looked forward to the video of my naked welsh choir singing ‘Happy Birthday’ with smiles on their faces, something that hadn’t happened the day before! J. and I boarded the hot sweaty bus, craving a cold shower. We had to be sensible and responsible now, checking for our passports and money as we arrived in Vientiene, the capital of Laos. We had a quick dinner, getting discounts for the cockroach in J’s soup, and got on the luxury double bed sleeper bus that had 4 bunks, passing out and arriving in Pakse for the last bus to 4000 islands. Soon we’ll be able to say been there Don Det but we’re gonna try and squeeze our visa’s dry and enjoy the last few hours before that time comes, Thank you Laos and family. x
 
 
Recipe of the day: Lao Green Curry
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBKaeNiDldE

We wave with a smile

Our lovely crew

As I sit on our little mini van basking in the Laotian sun that proves quite a contrast from the cold misty weather of Sapa, the northern most point of Vietnam, I smirk at how different the cultures of the east and west really are. The locals wait patiently as we sit and moan about how long it will take to get going again, we've been on the road since 7pm Wednesday and its now 1pm Thursday. In Asia things don't run in a logical manner.. meeting up at 10 usually means 10.30 give or take .. in psychology we call it Confucian dynamism, in the east they think short term whereas in the west it's the opposite, an easy example being escalators.. in London you stand to the right, in Malaysia you stand, everywhere. the easiest way of adapting is to just go with the flow of things and not let it get to you, or you just end up an angry foreigner that just provides more entertainment for the locals, and more frustration for us.

The charm can be shown through the youth too..

Today's been eventful already, we've haggled our way through immigration (arriving just before my visa expired).. Paying all the 'additional' fees for stamps, visas, passport photo's etc. I laughed as I watched an Israeli and a Korean bartering over the rates for money exchange from Vietnamese Dong to Laotian Kip.. Yesterday I remember opening my money bag (that I thankfully still have) and feeling the stress of being down to my last 3000 dong, equivalent to less than $1 :s. that's what makes travelling with a group helpful, borrowing a few pennies here and there in the most dire of times. So we're down one (Jd#2), the musical, vegetarian dentist with the Jew fro that added light and laughs to the group, the dynamic ever-changing. 

Since my last post a lot has gone down, this time it's been slightly less 'fear and loathing in Vietnam' as my dad described it. We left Hanoi, bellowing out 'Adele' with a heavy heart.. And began our adventures in 'Cat Ba', the island adjacent to Halong bay. Our first dinner didn't prove to be too successful as they managed to get everyone's order wrong, despite pointing to the 'Vietnamese writing on the menu. So we resorted to banana pancakes at one of the 3 other restaurants on the strip. That night the boys got their drink on and we listened to the Welshies trying to say the longest city in Wales 'Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch' Give it a go, it's not easy even for a Welshman. The next morning was an early start, well 9am but still, we're teenagers. J and I were the only ones to set our alarm so hung around for the crew to prepare themselves for a day of motor biking to the national park. After breaky and fixing our faulty helmets by tying the straps together with pink ribbon, we were off. B's exhaust pipe coughing out clouds of smoke into anyone trapped behind him turned into a mission as we overtook, lagged behind and continued the cycle until we got stuck behind a local bus that made the exhaust seem like a breath of fresh air. We arrived and our fitness levels were put to the test as we hiked up, up and up to the peaks of the national park.. The smokers of the group puffing away in regret. We finally reached the top, climbing up a rusty piece of construction that read on a sign board 'Danger no climbing' (woops) but the thrill of the landscape was indescribable. We climbed down the rusty stairs and puffed some flower fumes before listening to Angus and Julia stone's 'big jet plane' that we felt was appropriate for the scene as our minds flew high above the mountains of Cat Ba; the misty weather adding to the surrealism of it all. Jn. Gave a few of us a geography lesson using palm leaves to teach us how Britain was divided.. Something I felt I should know being part British.. Well by blood. We descended and got back on our bikes to find a spot to eat. Hearing a yelp on the way and turning to see a dog fly across the road as b. had accidentally swerved the wrong way and hit it straight on.. The shock passing through us all in waves until the view took over again. We stopped to admire the beach at a little cove and take a few group snaps before a delicious dinner and drinks on our rooftop. J. And I had our own room with 2 double beds and an en-suite bathroom for the first time, for a 'hefty' fee of $4.50 each a night that sent thrills through us both.

J and I

The next day was Feb. 14th so we all had a lie in for the first time. And after the girls were ready and the boys were fed up of waiting for us, we had a group breakfast and discussed the days plans of kayaking through the caves that are meant to be one of the 7 wonders of the world. We'd organised a game of 'Secret Valentine', similar to 'Secret Santa' and guaranteeing everyone a Valentine and a pressie, with the budget of $1 each. I had Jd. #2., the one whom I described earlier, and decided to get him a cucumber (veg), toothpaste (dentist) and chocolate (love), with a printed photo of our crew from the day before. Asking for a cucumber proved to be ridiculously hard as making a phallic shape with my hands didn't get me the right responses.. But I eventually found one. The next step being to find a printer; this mission resulted in meeting the entire population of Cat Ba as everyone's printers were broken or ink-less; but hours later my mission was complete and we all conjugated for lunch to exchange pressies.. Everyone's was creative and funny with a few exceptions. As we waited for the food our 'Stomp' sessions began and we used chopsticks, cutlery and bottles to create (what we thought) was a harmonious orchestra of sound.. We went to buy bottles of water after lunch and my tummy churned at the thought of them re-filling the mineral water bottles with tap water and just re-sealing the lid.. And we wonder why everyone keeps getting tummy aches. Items on the menu cause the same reaction.. Ostrich, hedgehog, crocodile, turtle, you name it, it's there. I'd try a lot of it but ethically that's not what they're bred for so it's not really OK  It also helps knowing what 'cat' and 'dog' is on the menu to prevent mishaps (after speaking to a friend that lives in Hanoi and finding out that her 'well fed' cat dissapeared only to be found on someone's plate hours later sent chills down my spine :s).

Our makeshift cover for the secret valentine pressies

We then proceeded to have the best valentines night so far, creating our own little rave on our rooftop bar. I began with J and Jd#2, having a deep and meaningful on our views on love and marriage, with strong and opposite opinions on both sides, building up a realization that  the belief system of marriage is partly based off of the insecurity that without the papers, the legal benefits don't present themselves, and there's a fear that the other person won't stick around forever because they're not legally bound to. But that's for another time.

The 'long' boat ride back to Hanoi

Valentines night

We left the convo and joined the rave, 'ring of fire' our notorious drinking game took off.. And before long, clothes were off, tables were broken, the elevator stunk of urine and the managers son was bawling his eyes out because a couple had broken into the shrine room for a quickie (it wasn't us, don't judge). As one of our group sayings go, 'shit escalated, drastically'. The morning rush was hectic, drunken stumbling to breakfast, to pay for the damage, pack and jump in the bus to take us on our 'boat cruise' to Hanoi. We jammed on the front of the boat, with the huge limestone formations (one of the natural wonders of the world) protruding out of the water on either side of us. T and Jd#1 knocking back Saigon beers at 9am to deny their hangover. We learnt not to expect anything from 'good boat deals' as the short cruise (that we'd expected to take us at least 3/4 of the way) landed us in a tiny mini- van with our luggage on our laps, for 6 hours to Hanoi,  as it rained cats and dogs outside the window. 'ALL DAY BABY, ALL DAY', 'FOR THE BOYS' and 'THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME' was all you could hear from the non-stop energetic and quite pissed Jd#1 sitting at the back of the bus. I could only laugh as Jd#2 became more and more irritated as the hours passed and 'full volume' on his ipod no longer blocked out the sound.

We arrived back in Hanoi eventually, reclaiming our passports in relief and being greeted by familiar faces on the 5th floor, our hang-out spot. I finally managed to buy some fake A&F flip flops and later joined the group, turning around to see a familiar tipsy 16 year old who I'd coincidentally lived in India, KL and Lanka with... 'It's a small world after all' ringing truer and truer. We bar hopped for free promo cocktails and landed ourselves in a club at 11.30pm. When the witching hour arrived (12pm) and the police did their rounds, the music stopped and all of the drunken dancers crouched low to the ground in silence as they passed before the volume was revved up again. The end of the night required a kebab pit-stop.. Conveniently situated right in front of the hostel and proving to be quite successful as the prices had risen by 50% in a week. We stumbled into the dorms singing out our catchphrases to the 2 members that hadn't come out, before the growls got too intense and we happily passed out under clean sheets.

Above the clouds

The next day we explored Hanoi and the boys went to the gym (ha). The rudeness of the Vietnamese was exemplified as I was pushed out of a shop with a bamboo stick and rammed in the foot with a motorbike because he was too impatient to wait for me to move. Juices and kebabs lifted the mood and then synchronicity took place as we went back to our hostel and engaged in interesting conversation. With perspectives from a physicist,  a mathematician, a yogi and a historian we understood how the root subjects all explain every aspect of the world from a different perspective, the details are too complex for writing but I'm sure everyone can relate. When our brains were exhausted, 'Looper' was the chosen film on the big screen, so we all dossed on bean bags before our 'last supper' as a group of 10, at the Indian restaurant nearby. Cutting it close to catching our 12 hour sleeping bus to Sapa, the hill country of Vietnam. On the bus 2 of our boys graciously gave up their seats for 2 girls and slept on the hard floor under feet and snores, with no signs of gratitude from the girls.. But they survived the ride, tired and grumpy.

Sapa greeted us with a spectacular view, the hotel we dropped our luggage at was above the white puffy clouds, the sun shining on the mountain peaks. I zipped up my hoodie, pulled on my backpack and we made our way to the breakfast buffet that awaited us as part of the package that we'd paid for. A couple we met at breakfast was telling us how lucky we were that the sun was out as they'd experienced a 3 day trek of mist and rain. We counted our blessings and sat down to relax before our full-on day of trekking. After hot showers and clean clothes we met our tour guide, Linh. She was about half my height and dressed in traditional Vietnamese clothing, beautifully embroided, with various colours that only the women wear, mostly stemming from indigo that comes from a specific plant that we were later shown on our trek. It took her a year to make 4 pieces of clothing for both her and her husband, all made out of hemp (the male marijuana plant), hence it's durability made the making-process worth the time. We chewed on sugar cane as we made our way downhill through the mountainous villages, walking alongside the traditional-dressed women to Linh's house. We all sat in her one-roomed house and discussed her daily life. The simplicity astounded me, she had a little stove in one corner, a simple bed in the other, a few wooden stools and pots and pans. Yet her level of content soared above most people I know, her eyes lighting up as her sweet 2 year old son ran around in circles as she told her stories. There was raw meat hanging off a hook on one side of the house that captured my attention. Apparently they leave raw pork to go rancid before using it to heal cuts/ wounds (an odd prospect given that raw meat generally has a lot of bacteria, not what a wound calls for) but it seems to work for them. B. also pointed out that their roofs were all made of asbestos, another worrying prospect, especially when it made the link between her brother-in-law's death (coughing up blood because of lung cancer) a lot clearer. She told us of the local shaman in the village, the relationships between the locals, their food habits and their general way of life. It was humbling knowing how lucky we are; I complain when I don't get the food i'm craving, they go weeks without meat because they can't afford it, or without food in general, it puts things in perspective.

On the way to our home-stay we stopped off for lunch, outside there were huge rocks overlooking the streams and rice paddies below, with the mountains ahead of us. I sat and meditated on the sounds, the breeze and the beauty before joining the others for noodle soup and Vietnamese coffee (black coffee with condensed milk - it grows on you!) The Vietnamese charm was ever-present as the 'sweet' ladies that had been walking with us the whole way suddenly pull out all of their bags, bracelets and headbands. Little kids joined in as well, tugging on our sleeves as we tried to eat: 'you buy from me, money, money, money'. 3 year old's would ask us for money and turn away if we didn't give them any. It was so sad realizing that the adults of the village place more importance on money than education for their kids. 

Climbing in bamboo forests

We passed a versatile array of animals on the way to our home stay:  pigs, cattle, chickens, buffalo, cats, dogs, the lot. It made it clearer why pork, beef and chicken were so prominent on all the menu's in the area. We finally arrived at the home stay, expecting a basic house similar to Linh's, we laughed at how set-up it all was. Hot water in our showers, a huge mattress each, situated right next to 'bamboo bar' that sold the richest hot chocolate in the world (run by a dutch man of course). Our luxury home stay was not what we expected, but we embraced it, Vietnamese tea, french fries, a family dinner, pancakes, rice wine, the lot. At Bamboo bar that evening J. and I engaged in a conversation with a 'Shaman' that proved to be rather interesting. We were skeptical when discussing our new found knowledge just because he was quite buzzed on opiates (in the form of sticky black hash oil that he rubbed on the outside of his cigarettes), but it was interesting hearing what he had to say. He had a strictly vegetarian diet and carried around a plastic bottle in which he placed ash, spit, hair, pee, rizzla's, flowers etc. He then proceeded to feel the spirits of certain trees and pour the contents of his bottle on to them, claiming that the next day, they'd grow at least a foot taller (hm..). We talked about the feminine/ masculine energy of certain trees (oaks being male due to their deeper roots and Bodhi trees being very female due to their shallower roots- look it up for details) and he went on his way, swaying slightly from side to side with droopy eyes but a kind heart. The temperature dropped as the mist descended and we cuddled up under thick blankets, warmed from the fire and feeling funny that we were in Vietnam; everyone felt a tinge of nostalgia thinking back on wintry nights around a fire with family and hot chocolate.

Linh and her baby

We all slept soundly, as you do in the cold. And our alarms went off one by one at 7am. Groggily we all huddled around the breakfast table for pancakes and fruit, finishing it off with a healthy dosage of coffee and cigarettes. The weather had turned and the mist was everywhere as we were literally stuck in the clouds. It made the days trek rather interesting as we slipped and slid down the muddy paths, clinging on to little Vietnamese ladies and bamboo trees for support. Wearing our ridiculous polka dot plastic raincoats, we began worrying about splatters of mud and ended the trek covered in it with smiles on our faces. As we walked a long, watching our steps, it felt like we were in a play station game, with new challenges presenting themselves at every corner. After a big lunch we were taken back to the hotel in a bus, to shower up and settle in. I was waiting for the Hollywood lights to shine, the camera men to appear and the screen to lift as the view when we got back was too good to be true; I kept pinching myself just to remember it was real. 'Presence' was key. J and I decided not to third wheel anyone so agreed to sleep in separate rooms, I slept with Jd#2 and Jn. while he slept with B and T in the other room. We paid $5 a night for clean, white, electric blankets, TV's and hot showers - life was good. That night we went to 'misty bar', appropriate given the weather, and after a few games of pool and a few more beers, we went on the lookout for some food. Our only option seemed to be Vietnamese BBQ that was not what we expected. Chicken feet, 'tofu' that was actually bread, and being completely ripped off with no say in the matter. I sat there and muttered 'I can't wait to leave Vietnam', getting the response of nodding heads all around the table. 

Our last day in Sapa

Our last day in Vietnam was perfect, we finished Sapa with motorbikes, following unknown roads with no maps or directions, finding beautiful waterfalls and rocks on which we could admire the perfect landscapes below us. The rice paddies were shaped like ripples of water and the sun reflected off them beautifully. It was so surreal, exactly what we'd wanted to see in Vietnam. On our way back we passed fields of cherry blossom trees, the pink flowers floating around us as we sped past rugged mountains, spotting the little houses situated in the middle of them - I wondered in awe how far they'd have to walk every day to get anywhere, but what amazing views they must have from their bedroom windows.

Fireworks on Tet but still, we ended it with a bang ;)

We got back to the others, checked out, throwing away the evidence of the newly broken toilet seat that J. managed to stand on just as we were leaving. We bought snacks for the train and I had a little explore in the local market, walking out shortly after, due to the disinterest that results when you have 50 women rushing towards you shouting out prices with handfuls of clothes. The 'Last Sapa' took place at a little Vietnamese restaurant that we'd discovered the previous day before saying goodbye to Jd#2 and hopping onto our bus to Laos! It was a sitting bus this time and the Valium wore off faster than we'd have liked, I looked around as I tried to get comfortable and saw everyone doing the same thing. Moving into just about every position possible and failing in vain. Just as we drifted off and found our position, the bus stopped. We all got out with prominent bags under our eyes, having to wait two hours for the next bus to arrive to take us to the border. Immigration was a chore, and the 'no drug signs', police and dogs everywhere sent nervous sparks down our spines but we got through safe and sound, not that we'd had anything to worry about..
Laos greeted us with a friendly dose of hot sun that we all needed desperately, Vietnam had it's charm and I came away with a few expressions including (excuse the pun) 'cum on you' (thank you), 'Un Chai' (vegetarian - something Jd#2 struggled with a lot) and 'Sin Chao' (Hello). But we're happy to be leaving behind the rudeness, the haggling, being ripped off constantly and losing just about everything that was valuable to me. Bring on Laos baby.

Recipe of the day: Banh Ran

http://www.theravenouscouple.com/2011/05/banh-cam-recipe-banh-ran-sesame-balls.html