India - Goa

"Chai, chai, pani, pani"

One of the many chants sung by the young men marching up and down the train selling tea (chai) and water (pani), along with samasos, packaged curries, biscuits and chips. My favourite one would have to be

"Chicken lawww li pawwp"

The first time I heard this, I looked up confused at the brothers I'd been chatting to from Goa. They both repeated it "Chicken lawllipawp" with a big drawl on the vowels, then burst out laughing. It turns out it pretty much is a chicken lollipop, chicken wrapped around a stick. Some of the food I tasted from these travelling sellers was incredible, particularly the samosas. I realised one day I ate nothing but samosas, and was completely satisfied, each one so different.

I met a nice couple, guy from Mexico, girl from Columbia on the train down. I ended up stealing their choice of destination within Goa - Palolem beach. I hadn't really decided which of the many beaches I wanted to visit, but this one was in the south, and on the way to Gokarna which sounded a little more relaxed than the tourist circus Goa has turned into. In the end I didn't make it to Gokarna, I read about a lovely train journey from Goa to Hospet, my next destination, which only ran on Sat, Sun and Wednesdays, so I decided to take it easy in Goa then catch the train. Pellolem was beautiful too. At first I was a little taken aback by the crazy dogs roaming the beach, along with the cows and random dead snakes.



After a day I was into the swing of it though and began to relax. I had some of the best food I tried in India here. There was a magnificent restaurant on the beach serving delicious meat and fish curries, washed down with really cheap beers and fenni, a spirit distilled from either cashew nuts or coconuts. I tried the cashew fenni one afternoon, it ranked up there as one of the most filthy drinks I've ever tried. The smell was rancid, it smelt like methylated spirits and had me worried enough that I checked my book to make sure this fenni stuff wasn't the spirit I'd been reading about that caused blindness and death to the uninitiated (this is actually arak). It is the only spirit I've ever resorted to buying a chaser to wash it down with. Once I'd finished, I examined the room for a bit of people watching and potential social opportunities. The most likely canditate was a guy sitting alone a few seats from me. Originally a couple of English girls were sitting on the table next to him, and I was thinking perhaps we could make a four, but I was too slow and the girls moved up to the front to sit right on the beach. (Interestingly they ended up chatting with these funny looking older Indian guys they ended up next to and I later found out they went for a walk to watch the sunset together, then took a motorbike ride, had dinner together and ended up in the same bar I found my way into at the end of the night). I continued to size up the lone male, he had kinda beedy eyes and didn't seem very smiley, but then he was sitting alone. Then suddenly this young Indian guy sitting on the couch beside me started chatting to me. His name was Sanjay and he totally reminded me of Curtis for some reason, I think it was the way he sat and talked, he looked really relaxed. So my decision was made for me, I ended up chatting with Sanjay for the rest of the afternoon before heading back to my hut to chill out by the river, this was the view from my hut, fortunately I had another toilet inside.



That night I had the most delicious fish I've ever eaten. I don't normally particularly like fish, but for some reason I splashed out and bought a whole fresh red snapper, cooked in the tandoor to perfection. When it came out I thought I was never going to be able to finish it, but I had no troubles, it was really sweet eating it with my hands too, it felt like a much easier way to eat fish.



There was a very relaxed atmosphere at Palolem, it was outside the high season (Winter) so there weren't any crazy parties, which I would quite like to have experienced, but it was still nice to be able to just chill out on the beach, swim and eat eat eat.



The waves were actually fairly decent for body surfing at times. For some reason I get really frustrated when there are perfect body surfing waves and people just bob up and down without catching them (particularly when they're right in the perfect spot). It was nice watching the fishing boats come in every day too, and they also pulled a massive net about 200 metres out to see, and across a 100 metre section, then dragged it back in. I actually really dislike the idea of net fishing, it seems so skilless. This is the booty, lots of little fish along with quite a few prawns.



Finally I had to leave, there was a real dragging feeling in Goa though, everything seemed to go in slow motion, I could very easily have burnt a week or two chilling out on the beach. I think it was accentuated by being there in the low season, apparently they work really hard from October to April or so, then chill out during the monsoon. Fortunately it only rained a little one morning (so I slept in!) while I was there, even though I'd had numerous warnings about how rainy it would be in Goa and even resorted to buying an umbrella. Actually, it was Ashok's umbrella, after he told me it was going to be incredibly wet in Goa and found out I didn't have an umbrella, he offered to me as a gift. I was very thankful, then at the end of the night as I left his house, I picked up the umbrella, smiled and said thankyou to him. He grumbled and said "Give me 200 for the umbrella". Some gift .. I ended up giving him 100 (a bit over $3).

The train ride to Hospet left from Margao, the main town centre of Goa at 7.30am the next morning, which was rather annoying as it meant I had to move somewhere closer for that night. I chose a beach called Benaulim (a Portugese butchering of the Sanskrit "Benali" which means "where the arrow landed" if I remember correctly, signifying the place where one of Vishnu's incarnations fired an arrow into the sea and ordered the waters to recede, hence creating Goa. It was actually incredibly hectic getting to this beach, I took a bus into Margao then transferred onto another to Benaulim. Unfortunately this bus was incredibly packed and I had chosen to sit towards the back of the bus, complete with my huge backpack and smaller pack. I had no idea when to get out of the bus and nobody around me seemed to understand when I said "Benaulim, Benaulim?" Eventually some old lady worked it out just after we took off from the Benaulim stop. So I had to shove my way through this can of sardines, dragging my bags along with anyone else that I hooked on my way past until about 2 minutes later I made it the 10 metres to the front of the bus. The old lady told me that the bus had gone too far now .. I'm not sure what I was supposed to do with this information, order the bus to turn around? Thankfully it didn't take long to catch another bus back in the opposite direction. The beach at Benaulim was nowhere near as nice as Palolem, although there were some nice rice fields and farms to walk through on the way, along with a nice sunset from my dinner table as I ate yet another delicious fish, this one tasted like steak.

India - The beginning, Mumbai

India's been fairly intense to say the least. A lot has happened and I'm finding it difficult to set aside the time to write things up properly, I think China was particularly rushed, so I'm just going to break things into stages. This is the beginning, just the first couple of days in Mumbai. Also, I'm skipping Japan for now, I'm enjoying writing things up as they happen more, hopefully I'll have time to slot it in when I'm in Europe somewhere.

About 4 hours before my flight to India I ordered one more Long Island Ice Tea. 3 hours before my flight I decided to have a quick 30 minute nap. 2 hours before my flight I woke up, cursing my stupid alarm, finished packing and dashed out the door. 1 hour before my flight I boarded the train for the 1 hour journey into the airport. As my flight left, I woke up on the train to see the front 3 carriages splitting off towards the airport while I was shuttled into the countryside of Osaka. 1 hour after my flight left I finally arrived at the airport. I must say this was incredibly stressful, particularly the fitful sleep on the train to the airport. Fortunately there was no problem changing my flight to the next day, so India lost yet another day.

The flight over started with a young Indian couple just straight out stealing my window seat, then offering little more than a shrug, a smile and a point at the aisle seat when I told them to vacate. I grumbled most of the flight, particularly when they pulled the shutter down during the sunset. It was more than just my mind that was grumbling by the end of the flight though. I started my anti-malarial treatment - Doxycyclin while on the plane. I waited for meal time, then swallowed the pill with my coke. After about an hour I started feeling something strange in my chest, I couldn't quite place it but it felt slightly familiar. It gradually got worse and by the 2nd hour if I took a deep breath it hurt. After 3 hours I was getting worried as my normal breathing was impacted. I was manically reading the documentation in the packet, and ensured that I had it well placed in my pocket so that when I fell unconscious they'd be able to find a reason. 4 hours down we were approaching Mumbai and each breath was difficult, I was thinking I was having an anaphylactic response to the drugs and needed adrenaline, so tried to bring about a natural release somehow. I think I failed, the only real way I could think of was to scare myself, but I was already pretty panicky! When I finally decided I really needed to see a doctor, the seat belt signs were all on and all the attendants were seated for landing. At least we were close to Mumbai. I was watching extremely intently on the screen as the little plane closed in on the city. 4 minutes to go .. 3, 2, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 ... the plane slowly turned around and it reset to 10 minutes again. Urgh. I tried to remain calm as all the passengers crammed their way to the exit, then immediately informed one of the ground staff that I was having difficulty breathing and wanted to see a doctor. They took about 10 minutes to arrive, during which I thought perhaps it would have been pertinent to inform someone before we landed. The Cathay staff seemed to be arguing with the doctor afterwards about the length of time it took to arrive. The doctor takes a look at me (now seated in a wheel chair)

Doc: "You're not having difficulty breathing"

Me: "Ahh, yes I am, I can't take a deep breath without being in serious pain"

Doc: "No, you're not, if you were you wouldn't be able to speak"

Me: "Look, I just took this medication and it says here if I have difficulty breathing to see a doctor."

Doc: "You're not having difficulty breathing. You just read that and are imagining it, you've made yourself have difficulty breathing."

I got extremely annoyed that he would call me out as someone that panicked and invented their own symptoms, and became genuinely worried that he was just going to tell me to go home.

Me: "The reason I started reading this sheet was because I was having difficulty breathing, and serious pains in my chest."

Doc: "I've been in this business for 20 years, I know what I'm talking about. You're fine, you're a fit young boy, you have nothing to worry about."

At this stage he'd at least started to examine me, and I think he began to sense that I was getting seriously pissed off, so he told me he'd examine me anyway. When they determined my heart rate, blood pressure and pupil dilation were all normal, they gave me some Zantec or something, a re-hydrating drink and said I'd be fine. I asked if they thought it was my oesophagus, as this was another side-effect, ulceration caused by not remaining upright, and he said yes. So I was wheeled through customs, then all the way outside to the thick humidity and madness of India. A mini riot began a few hundred metres from me. I stood off the chair and realised I'd missed all the tourist information back in the airport. I tried to re-enter but wasn't allowed. The pain in my chest was unbearable. Bending over to pick up my pack caused a huge stabbing pain. Any effort above walking caused my heart to pound against the ulcers. I slumped onto the street, considering a trip to a fancy hotel for just a night until I could think and act properly. But I decided to push through, dragged out my book, got some change and started phoning hotels. Eventually I found one, then struggled through to the pre-paid taxi counter to get a taxi there. A few bright eyed porters showed me to the taxi, then tried to get money for the 20 metre journey. I shot him a look that showed the pain I was in and he quickly scuttered away. The taxi ride seemed to be going alright, although I noticed a lot of heat coming from the front. I wondered if he seriously had a heater on. After about 15 minutes a cloud of smoke erupted from the source of the heat as the engine blew up. The driver fiddled with it for about 10 minutes while a pack of scabby dogs attacked each other just 5 metres from my door. I hate random, crazy, aggressive dogs, they scare the willies out of me. Nothing really seemed to matter though, I was in constant pain. The driver was pretty nice in the end, he hailed another taxi and paid for me to get the rest of the way. Unfortunately this driver had no idea where to go though, so we spent a while asking people on the street before I eventually directed him using the map in my book. I had shown him the map multiple times, but he didn't seem to understand it at all.

The walk up the 4 flights of stairs to the hotel nearly killed me. I got to my room, lay down and contemplated the pain. It was so bad now that any breath longer than a short one and every beat of my heart sent a wave of pain through my chest. Laying on my back accentuated it and caused a constant stream of pain. I turned the lights off (as specifically instructed when going to bed) then realised that the lights were linked to the fan. So I lay on my side (only the left side too, as my right shoulder is still mangled from the bike accident, I was told sleeping on it would make it worse, which is consistant with the pain I get in the morning if I do) and tried to sleep through the pain and heat. I rate it as one of the worst nights sleep of my life.

The next morning wasn't much better, it took a full 24 hours before I was anywhere near normality. I spent the day wandering around Mumbai and organising my train ticket to Goa. I was approached on the street by a man who claimed to own a jewellery shop in Mumbai and was opening a new shop in London. Apparently the Indian government take 70% of any rupees taken outside of the country. As he needed money to set up the shop in London, there was only one 'legit' way he could take it out, travellers cheques banked at his store. He proposed that he would give me a stack of cash which I could take into the bank and convert to cheques. I would then take these cheques and 'buy' things from his store in Mumbai. Of course I wouldn't really be buying anything, just effectively giving him the money back. He in turn would give me 20% of all of the money. He said there was a Brazilian couple that were coming back later that day to do it again who I could meet and talk to if I wanted. I was really unsure, told him I thought it sounded strange and needed to think about it. He was cool with that and we arranged to meet up the next day at 4pm. Unfortunately it never happened as I got wrapped up in a full day tour with Ashok.

I was originally planning to spend the next day at the Elephanta caves on an island off Mumbai. On my way there I was approached by a tourist guide, Ashok, who sweet talked his way into taking me on a full day tour and avoiding the caves. They were nowhere near as good as Ellora (which I was visiting later in my trip) anyway he said, which I could believe. I'd also had someone try to sell me the full day tour just the day before and it had tempted me. Ashok's tour sounded even better as it included "the real Mumbai - slums and prositution". He had loads of useful information for me about Goa and travelling around in general that I was appreciative of already, so I decided what the hell. He wanted about $60 for the tour, then lowered it to $50 when I balked. I said $30 was the max I would spend, which he eventually agreed on, but said if I enjoyed the tour, perhaps I could give him more. To be honest, the tour was a bit of a let down. The Jain temple he had been so obsessed about, particularly as it was a festival day, was ok, there were a lot of solid silver doors and gem encrusted shrines, but I think I was expecting some sort of festivities to go along with the festival, more than just the sight of the odd holy man rubbing a statue's nipples with milk. These shrines are all marble, with real gold, diamonds and the like.



Gandhi's residence was very interesting though, and I did find out about the Parsis, a religious group of people from Iran originally. We passed a "tower of silence" where the Parsis dispose of their dead. They put them out on a small platform 3x2 metres and watch as the vultures pick the flesh from their bones. Apparently it's all over in under half an hour. Unfortunately only Parsis are allowed inside the complex. The slums were just slums, nothing special, or particularly worse than the odd slummy area I'd seen already just walking the streets, and the prostitution I think I'd already had enough of already. Although it was interesting to see the street lined with girls, booze selling joints, cinemas and doctors specialising in skin disorders and VDs. Ashok said the standard modus operandi was to get drunk, watch a sexy flick, then live it out with a prositute, shortly followed by a visit to the doctor. The tour finished with a trip to his school friend's jewellery store of course. I was somehow suckered into buying some useless gems and ripped off, his addition was terrible and I can't believe I didn't crack it with him.

Once the tour was finished though, Ashok offered to take me back to his place where he'd cook me a chicken masala dish. This I was genuinely interested in, and it also meant I had an easy way to kill time before my train at 11pm, particularly given I'd checked out and was dragging my huge backpack with me everywhere. Unfortunately it required shelling out another $10 in taxi fees to get out there, we could drink in the taxi though he assured me. Booze was extremely expensive, I never found out if this was because he was ripping me off or it was genuinely expensive in Mumbai. I did appear to be funding a small bottle of whiskey for each beer I was consuming though. He also offered to sell me some hash, minimum purchase of $50 for 5 grams or so, looks like, as almost everyone in India does, he has connections to most industries. And so we wound our way through the crazy traffic towards Ahok's house while he told me his life story. Wife died several years ago, 3 children. Became an alcoholic, lost his house, was rescued by a lady from Sydney who he used to deal with. She bought him a new house. It was nearly an hour out to "New Mumbai" where Ashok lived, a fair way out of the city. We stopped by a chicken shop to buy a couple for our meal. Fresh chickens was the only way to go apparently. It was a little distressing watching them killed and skinned, but I was intrigued at the technique.



Ashok told me many foreigners come and stay at his house and tell him it's really lovely. It was nice to see, and meet his children. But by the time we cracked open the 2nd round of alcohol, I realised I'd found the real Ashok, a drunkard. He began slurring his words, kept holding me and telling me we were great friends, and didn't I have a wonderful time today? He spilt my beer all over the place, then started telling unlikely stories like the time he took Shane Warne for a tour around Mumbai. I was beginning to get really suspicious of the whole thing, particularly when he began to encourage me to have a sleep upstairs. Then the money had to change hands, he'd already asked me for 1000 rupees for the taxi ride, which I'd noted was only 400. I was angry with being ripped off by his friend already, and dubious as to the 200 rupees he was charging for the beers, but figured it was nice to see his house and try his cooking (or his daughters' cooking). So I offered him another 1000, taking the total to 1600 effectively for his tour, which was more than he'd offered originally, but less than his starting price. He said at first "you can give me 1 rupee and I'd be happy" Then later looked really pissed off when I offered him the extra 1k. I told him the taxi was only 400, and I'd already bought him 2 bottles of whiskey and a free taxi ride home. He kinda begged for another 100, which I thought was pathetic, but I'd already made this judgement after watching him denegrate into the slobbering mess he had become by the start of the night. He even spat inside his own house, all over the floor. I felt kinda sorry for his kids. Eventually I left and took a train in to the magnificent Victoria Terminus in Mumbai.

China

On to China, where I feel like my trip really begun. I took a train to Guangzhou and was greeted by someone who appeared to be helping me, calling up the train station to see if there were any tickets to Kunming. "None" he says, for today, tomorrow or the next day. Flights cost around A$200, perhaps a bit pricey .. but then there's some commotion with someone else and he says he has a friend in the train station and can get me a ticket for tomorrow if I just stay here overnight. Then he suggests this hotel. I was waiting all along for this, as although he said "Tourist information", he was working from behind a hotel desk. I took his card in case, then made my own way to the train station to see for myself. The taxi to the station was going incredibly slow and I only had an hour before the train to Kunming left. It looked like he couldn't put the car beyond 2nd or 3rd gear. About half way there the car completely packed it in, broke down in the middle of the highway. The guy didn't look happy at all, but was kind enough to let me out for free. I got another taxi in seconds and had a great old chat with the driver. Looks like the Chinese has survived somehow.

Arriving at the train station, there's about 1,000 people milling about outside and queueing up at various windows. It's over 30 degrees and I'm hot as hell. I can't read anything unfortunately, characters were the first thing to go, so I just try to get in to the station. After a few minutes of queueing, I find out I need a ticket, so join a separate queue for a few minutes before heading to yet another queue. Now I have about 30 minutes before the train leaves. (Only one leaves per day) And yes of course, when I do finally get to the ticket booth, there are no seats available for the next 3 days. Unbelievable I think, remembering the number of people they packed into the hard seat section last time I was in China. I have only 1 week here, so staying in Guangzhou is not an option, even one night would be a waste. So I jump in a taxi and head straight to the airport. By 9pm I'm in Kunming in a beautiful hostel drinking 50c beer.

I met this funny German guy, who had been studying in China for a few months. We managed to speak half English half Chinese to eachother. Just as I'm thinking he looks incredibly gaunt, he tells me he just came out of hospital. Apparently he had a bit of a cold, so he went to a Chinese hospital where they proceeded to give him four blood infusions. This guy was clearly crazy, he had this glint in his eye whenever he talked about flowers. I hung out with him for the next day, which really tested my patience. It took him 15 minutes to decide whether or not he wanted to buy a map, while he kept trying to ask the guy about all the pictures and bargain him down. Fortunately, while he had a much larger vocabulary than me, I seemed better at understanding and speaking. So while he was looking confused at the map I was cheekily making fun of him with the map seller. Finally after another 5 minutes of the German insisting he lower his price from $1.50 to $1, even though the price was printed on the map as $1.50, the seller gave it to him for $1.40 and we were all happy. Normally I enjoy putting myself in other's hands when I travel, as it lets you see a city from an angle you wouldn't normally have approached. Unfortunately it's not always rosy though, the highlight of the day was a trip to the zoo where we spent an hour looking for the butterflies. By the time we found them I was fed up and decided sitting by the stench of the drop toilets alone would be more exciting than watching Thomas gaze at butterflies. I shouldn't be so harsh, I did enjoy the gibbons in the zoo, I could have spent hours watching them chase eachother with their funny long arms. Thomas and I made a pretty good team with our Chinese too.

That night I took the overnight 'sleeper' bus to Lijiang. I walked to the station and thought I was about a block or two away so I asked a lady where the gonggongqichezhan (bus station) was. She told me it's way too far to walk and I must jump in a cab, as she started screaming to a group of guys behind her with a big grin on her face. Luckily I didn't trust her, the grin gave her away and I had enough conviction in my map reading skills to at least continue to try. Sure enough it was about 100 metres down the road, I kinda steamed at the thought of this woman thinking she was funny and making some money off me, not knowing what a horrible impression of Chinese people she was giving me. It's a shame, there's some really nice Chinese people around that are genuinely very helpful, but it only takes a few bad eggs for it to be really difficult to trust anyone. The bus was pretty interesting, they stack three rows of bunks in, the head slightly elevated above the legs of the person behind, allowing you to lie down for the entire journey. Unfortunately I was in the front seat behind the driver who lit up a cigarette every 5 minutes, burning my nostrils with his acrid smoke. Then there was the music VCD they played for the first few hours of the trip which stuck on one song repeating it 10 times until someone in the back of the bus started yelling at the bus driver.

After 10 hours we eventually arrived in Lijiang and into one of the nicest hostels I've stayed in. "Mama Naxi's", she was a classic, she cooked the most impressive meals I've ever seen and would continually stuff food down your face until you rolled away from the table. One guy said he didn't want to eat, so she brought out an egg dish thinking he was vegetarian. He still refused, so she asked why he wouldn't eat, to which he replied he was feeling a little sick. Next thing she's brought out 5 multi coloured tablets and demanded he eat them, it was either that or the food! So after a huge banana pancake to welcome me from my bus ride, I decided I'd like to ride a bicycle around to get a feel for the town. The best thing about Mama's is that she brings everyone together around the table to eat at set times, her food is so great everybody comes for the meal. So after breakfast we had a group of about 7 people keen for a ride. It was funny when people asked us where we were from as we had a Swiss guy, 3 French people, a German, a Canadian and an Australian. Interesting hearing the mix of French, German and English being spoken too.



The bikes we hired were terrible. Two chains broke, we managed to fix one of them well enough to ride home but we had to resort to a pulley system to get the other bike back.



That night I hooked up with a couple of french girls and a couple of Czech guys. It was a night of Baijiu, guaranteed to end somewhere interesting. The Czech guys showed me their pick of the Baijui, a red coloured, sweeter, slightly herbal tasting spirit. I think it was only 30%, which made it slightly more palatable than the other 60% varieties. We wandered through the old town of Lijiang, one of the most beautiful Chinese towns I've seen, even if it was completely jammed with Chinese tourists.



We had fun running up behind them just as their photos were about to go off, the reaction was hilarious, initial outrage quickly turning into fits of laughter and beckoning us to join them in a proper photo together. Actually, I found there were still some Chinese that asked if they could have their photo taken with you, I always wonder what they do with these photos, or tell their friends. Once we'd finished exploring the old town, we found ourselves in a supermarket exploring some strange looking green coloured baijiu. With both my pockets now full of rocket fuel, we stumbled into a taxi and asked the driver to take us somewhere we could dance and listen to music. We surprisingly ended up in a great club, the music was fairly up beat electronic, and there were quite a few people dancing and milling about. The drinks were about 10 times the price outside, but we had a fair stash of baijiu to keep us going. I headed straight for the toilet and found a group of Chinese guys snorting white powder. Dancing was lots of fun, I think the Chinese were a little unsure of how to take us though. The only problem was the DJ that kept stopping the music every 5 minutes to yell something in Chinese. Occasionally I heard him say Americans, so I spun around and yelled at him that we weren't Americans. He then told everyone that yes, we were Americans! Eventually I think he heard over the loud music that we were French, Czech and Australian. I have no idea what time we came back, but I know it was many hours after our midnight curfew. I think I had about 2 hours sleep before having to get up and head off to the "Tiger Leaping Gorge" for a 2 day hike. I stumbled downstairs, wolfed down some food then joined some of the gang from yesterday in a 3 hour bus ride to the gorge. Sitting in the bus I realised I couldn't remember how I got home last night. I'd also managed to lose my toothbrush, it was nowhere to be found in the morning. To make matters more interesting, my pants were covered in toothpaste. I was completely baffled! This one has ended up as one of the world's greatest mysteries, I did manage to catch up with one of the Czech guys in Kunming a few days later and asked him what happened at the end of the night and had he seen my toothbrush? Apparently on the walk home I found a Chinese guy that was staggering as badly as me and we walked the whole way arm in arm. I spoke nothing but Chinese the whole way.

The hike begun, I was packed for all occassions, I had with me .. a hat, and an apple. The apple was kindly carried by Sabine all the way around in her pack and never eaten. It only took about 10 minutes before we were blown away by the amazing mountain views.



This could end up just being a huge list of photos with which I attempted to capture the immenseness of the scenery. The hike itself involved a lot of hard work as we climbed hundreds of metres in the hot sun, the whole way with a guy dragging a horse behind us, occasionally asking if we'd like to ride it, usually whenever we were looking particularly tired. Then there was a massive stretch where the fauna chagned dramatically every half hour or so. You can see the path going through the waterfall here.



We reached our destination, the Halfway Guesthouse just as the sun was setting.



Over the other side of the huge mountain range we'd been viewing the whole day came the most amazing thunder I've ever heard. Each strike reverberated and echod for nearly a minute, it sounded like some giant beast was eating its way through the hill. We had a lovely meal, then I tried to roll up some green plant we'd found on our hike.



Maybe it made me a little relaxed, but more noticable was the thumping headache it accentuated. The next day involved more beautiful scenery.



Eventually we walked down off the high path and rejoined the road, where we encountered a Chinese man on the bridge. He was far too much like the troll under the bridge for my liking. He informed me that the path onwards was dangerous and very difficult to follow unless we hired him as a guide. The others didn't want a bar of him, so we told him we wanted to go alone, then managed to make complete fools of ourselves barely finding the start of the path, then wandering off it immediately. He warned us again, saying that there were dogs down the way we were going. The group split here, the majority of the team wanted to continue along the road, the most direct route to Walnut Grove, as they needed to get a bus later in the afternoon. Sabine and I decided to go on the low path, which was clearly marked, and involved climbing down to the river, but required paying multiple fees to the locals who have set up toll gates along the way for 'maintenance' of the path. Admittedly the paths were amazing, you can see the cut through the cliff in the background here. If you look closely, you can see the Chinese girl blocking the way until you pay her the $2 or so to get past.



I'd like to link about another 20 photos in here but this is probably enough, I'll send everyone a link to all of my photos when I get a chance later. The end of the walk had us hiking back up another hill to Walnut Grove, which was amazingly peaceful and relaxed. I could spend a week here just chilling out in the guesthouses, eating delicious food and staring at the mountains. Found this on the menu too: "Baba bread with Ganja butter". An American guy sitting behind us was questioning them about it, asking:

"What's this Ganja butter? In my country it has a .. ceratin meaning"

"This is a mineral leaf"

"Mineral leaf! I like that one" Says the American as he chuckles. Didn't order any though. We shared some amongst 4 of us, I certainly felt relaxed on the bus trip home.

After another fine day in Lijiang spent wandering around the Dragon King's palace and gardens, then climbing up the biggest hill we could find again, I jumped on another overnight sleeper bus back to Kunming. One last day in Kunming wandering around gardens and markets. Check the meat display here, nice of them to leave the tail on.



Then a lovely night drinking too much and playing pool. The next morning I had just enough time to wander around a final park where we found this guy making fairy floss with his bicycle.



Then it was a final goodbye to my favourite of all toilets in the world, this one had 6 open air cubicles with a queue of about 5 Chinese at all times staring in to check when you were finished. No toilet paper either of course. And off I flew to Shenzhen, then in to Hong Kong. Finally finished, hope there weren't too many big pictures for anyone that's on dial-up. I had an amazing time in China, and the best part was that it was all crammed into just one week. I did spend a lot of time travelling for just a few really juicy moments, but it was completely worth it.

Hong Kong

Hong Kong! First night out, you'll never guess where I end up. I'm quickly getting an impression of what many ex-pats spend their lonely nights doing. A different style again though, this looked and felt like a bar when you came in, except almost every girl in the place was giving you the eye. They even come up and initiate conversation, then act interested! Interestingly they seemed to be a lot more intelligent here and very well travelled, almost everyone I spoke to had been to Melbourne, and seemed to be studying at University, or finished with their degree. There were also a lot of South and Central American girls.

I was still recovering from the Philippines unfortunately, I 'followed through' ruining two pairs of underpants in quick succession. You'd think I'd learn. Eventually I felt stable enough to venture outside, and the weather was perfect. So I decided to head up the peak, it was extremely clear allowing long views from the top.





The highlight of Hong Kong was a trip on a Junk, belonging to my friend's wife's work. I had spectacular weather for the whole time in Hong Kong. This boat was massive, and came with our own speed boat.



We had the whole thing to oursleves, just me, Kevin, Gabby and a couple of their friends. Had lots of fun diving off the boat, drinking wine and taking the speedboat out for some waterski-ing. We stopped for lunch near Clearwater bay, a place you could only access by boat, they had about 30 or more tanks of different live seafood to choose from.



A beautiful day out, but a minor addition of colour to my legs now, look, the sun has drawn some pants on me! There were some pretty nice views of Hong Kong from Kowloon at night too.

Philippines

From Malaysia I was supposed to head North into Thailand then Laos before cutting through China to Hong Kong, but I hadn't left myself a lot of time to do this and had spent extra time in Singapore recovering from my accident. A promising alternative had also arisen in the form of a golf tournament in the Philippines. So off I flew to Manila. We were greeted with a typhoon and one of the worst traffic jams I've ever experienced. We were already about 3 hours into a 2 hour bus ride from the airport when traffic completely stopped for nearly an hour. We ended up just getting out and walking, golf clubs and all. Fortunately we were only a couple of KMs from the end of the bus ride anyway, but from there we had to catch a train. Security is pretty heavy in Manila, you are searched in almost every mall and train station you enter. So we had to have all our bags and clubs searched. From the train it was a taxi ride to our hotel, however there was a queue of about 20 people waiting for taxis, so we ended up giving up as we were having dinner in this area in about 20 minutes anyway. By this stage we had a pretty rosy view of Manila. Luckily it all picked up once we'd eaten, had a few drinks and dumped our bags. The night turned into quite a big one, with a lot of bar hopping and dancing bringing us home after 4am for a 5am golf start. Nick had missed his flight to Manila, so he couldn't make the golf and Michael decided he didn't want to play, so I was the only one, but figured it could be fun. Unfortunately after just 30 minutes sleep, I rushed down to meet my lift and forgot to bring my hat or any sunscreen. It had been raining buckets the previous day anyway ...






These were the "umbrella girls" I was dissapointed that they didn't actually come with an umbrella. Check out the clouds in the background. Guess who can get a tan in that kind of weather?



This was my 'flight', a nice group of guys. I had them really scared when I hit the first two greens with ease, but as soon as I started missing the greens and had to rely on Nick's baby clubs which were about 5 inches too short for me, my true colours came out and it was all down hill. By the back 9 all I was doing was running from shade to shade and praying for rain.

On the bright side, I think I demonstrated to the Asians what it means to get sun burnt, and how it's still possible to achieve this red state when it's overcast. I was glowing red and looking "good enough to eat" as Litou told me, and all this within just an hour after returning to the clubhouse. There was a delicious roasted pig served up and much cerveca - san miguel is practically all they serve in the Philippines.



I felt a little strange and alone at first sitting with all these strangers, extremely self conscious of my burning complexion, but after a while I figured there was no point worrying about it and ended up having a great time laughing with everyone. They were amazingly open and funny I thought, I think they appreciated my willingness to poke fun at myself. We drove home via a beautiful bar perched right atop a steep crater with a lake in the middle. Then again for another, and another toilet stop, before finding our way to "The Birdie Hole - Back 9" It took me about two seconds on entry to realise what kind of place this was. Thankfully there was no forceful begging or whining like my previous experience (in Thailand) when I made it clear "There's no way I'm doing any of this fucking shit" in response to them bringing 5 girls out onto stage, spotlighting them and asking me which one I wanted. I continued to drink and chat though, and even managed to try out 'Balut' - 3 day old duck still in the egg, feathers and all.



Apparently it was the final challenge in one of those extreme reality TV shows where they do crazy stuff. Personally I thought it just tasted like an egg with something slightly slimy and crunchy inside. It was slightly off putting when after I took my first bite a little brown head lolled out. Next stop we met up with Nick, Michael and Shaowee for another drink, then a last minute decision by Michael and I to go out dancing at Embassy. Hefty $20-30 entrance fee which didn't represent the quality of the DJ. Still managed to have a good dance, including a bit of a flirt with a cute girl which for some reason I couldn't satisfy myself was actually a girl. She was kinda tall and had broad shoulders, but no adams apple that I could see. As I was leaving, she gave me her number and her name was Glen. Interesting .. but I figure if you've gone to the trouble of all this sex change business, why keep what is probably the easiest of all things to change male? And just the night before we had heard of a girl who was named "Kevvin". Oh well, we returned to our hotel with just 20 minutes before our 5am golf call for the next day again. I lay on my bed for a minute, then sat up and it was 10am. I was annoyed that Michael had left without me, but figured he was just being nice, letting me sleep, but damn, I really wanted to play. Probably for the best that I got some sleep though as I was developing a golf ball sized gland in my throat. When Michael returned he explained that I had said "Fuck off, and fuck golf" when he tried to lift me from the bed. I guess it was my subconscious speaking. After a day of rest, Michael and I moved hotels to somewhere slightly cheaper.

That night I was initiated into the Hash House Harriers. A drinking group with a running problem. I'd heard of them years ago and was very keen but kept missing out on a chance to run anywhere. They're an international group in almost every major city in the world, running weekly. Basically a 'hare' sets a course with chalk or toilet paper indicating the direction to run every 200 metres or so. There are sometimes special markers indicating the next marker could be in any direction, and wrong turns, where you have to run back. This allows the slower runners to keep up as they don't have to traverse all the wrong paths. It finishes with a lot of beer drinking, singing and skulling for any excuse you can think off. Of course the night ended with us in Makati in another dodgy establishment. At least this one had a pool table.

Finally managed to do something touristy the next day, with a tour around the old Fort and a church.



But of course by the time the sun went down, you can guess where we ended up. This place you had to challenge the girls to Jenga or Connect 4. If you win, they take off more clothes, if they win, you have to buy a round of drinks. After a couple of games of connect 4 where I was completely taken to town (I worked out their trick, the game was coloured blue and they always used the blue chips, which were nearly impossible to see in the dark, particularly after a few beers), I realised that this was a very expensive past time. I tried to offer my boobs as a prize for their victory, but it only worked once. The cries of "Show us your dick" didn't get honoured. We did a bit of a tour after this, ending up at Ringside for the promise of female boxing, mud wrestling and shampoo. Within a few minutes of entering, I was somehow dragged into the ring, made to wear these ridiculously over sized boxing gloves and pitted against a rather strong looking girl.

"Go easy on me. Don't hurt me"

she says as she jams her fist into my groin. She had a pretty mean punch, landed quite a few on my face, but then I don't think I had much defence, I was too busy laughing. This was certainly a highlight, I had a lot of fun dancing around the ring, and quite liked Anna the boxing queen. She crowned me her trainer and kept asking for advice. When the real fight began, she took her opponent to pieces. I almost felt proud! When we left she asked me to never forget her and took a peso, wrapped it in tissue paper then burnt it with a lighter as a memento for me.

Last day in Manila and I feel completely drained. My shoulder's still sore, I'm unable to raise my arm in certain directions, my face and neck have begun to peel, the sore throat's moved up into my head and looking back I realise I haven't done a solid poo since I arrived. Perfect combination for a 4 hour wait at the airport followed by a 3 hour flight to Hong Kong.

Malaysia

From Singapore I moved into Malaysia to meet my old friend Adrian. His family has recently bought a holiday house in Langkawi, and he generously offered it for me to stay in. So I bought a cheap flight up there and spent a few days relaxing in the most gorgeous penthouse apartment. He also organised for a hire car there, which I must admit I was a little nervous about. I hadn't actually driven a manual since I went for my P plates over 2 years ago, and I don't even have a full license yet. I think the car gods could feel my fear, when I entered the car it was empty, so I tentatively pulled up to a petrol station. Trying to look like I was some gas guzzling pro, I whipped off the cap and started pumping oil. The machine hummed away happily for a minute or so, when I thought perhaps it's not coming out. I pulled out the nozzle a little and touched the trigger squirting petrol all over my shirt, pants and leg. Mmm, well at least it's working. I put it back in and it clicked as if it was finished, so I went up to pay. R2.50 he says. Wow, so cheap here! I hand him over a 100 note anyway, just in case I'd misheard him. I can't really judge his expression through the glass. And off I drive chuffed that I managed to fill the car successfully (I'm not an experienced driver ...) I pull out of the station and the petrol light flashes on again .. looks like the only petrol I paid for was that which I was now wearing and breathing. I was too embarrassed to return to the station so I drove on, trying to be extremely economical, paranoid that I was going to end up stuck on the side of some road in the middle of the night. Fortunately I managed to get to Chenang beach for some food and return without conking out.

The next day I drove to "The Seven Wells". I was stopped by a random police roadblock on the way and asked for my license, which had me a little worried. Thankfully I don't think he understood the word 'probationary'. Arriving, it was a bit of a hike up stairs, the wells are all above a rather powerful waterfall. I'd only eaten a couple of pieces of toast for breakfast so I was pretty hungry and thirsty by the time I reached the wells, when I spotted this "Jungle Trail". It said 2500M, so I thought I'd just go for a little bit and see what it was like. I got lost after about 500M and bush bashed for ages, before I back tracked and ended up finding the trail again, where one of the markers had fallen down. After another hour of serious sweating, river crossings and the path getting steeper and steeper, the path began to get so steep a rope was provided to aid the climb.



After another hour or so of seriously hard work, I think I was nearly hallucinating, having to stop every few hundred metres. I was at the stage of drinking water off the leaves and sucking rocks that had a bit of moisture dribbling down them. Eventually I got into the clouds and realised I'd gone way too far to turn back now. It was a massive effort, but I loved it, maybe because I'm a masochist, but the view from the top was pretty cool. There's a huge cable car that goes up to one of the mountains, but this trail actually took you up to an even higher mountain where you could look over everything. Unfortunately it was a bit cloudy on one side of the mountain, ie it was completely covered in cloud and you couldn't see shit, but on the other side it was clear, so it was a cool view looking along the side, where one side was cloud, with the cloud billowing over the top, while the other side was clear. Interesting also that while I had thought the island was completely overcast and raining, the Northern half appeared to be quite clear.



I ended the day driving the car through the service roads of a 5 star hotel and ending up at this amazing beach house restaurant. I managed to purchase a beer and sit in a little hut on the beach while the sun set, before having a swim in the nearly bath temperature water - fairly decent waves too, body surfable. A delicious dinner at a roti house on the way home of roti stuffed with ham, egg, peas, corn and cheese with 4 separate curries to dip it in cost only $2, and beer is cheaper than coke as Langkawi is a duty free island. I spent the rest of the night listening to jazz and drinking wine while I watched the lights of Kuah town dance off the water. I kinda wished I had someone to share it all with. I'd had an interesting chat with a Saudi Arabian man by the river, he was quite against travelling alone. In the end we agreed there's pros and cons. There were a lot of Saudis around Langkawi and KL for that matter, frequently a man with two wives, both covered head to toe in long black flowing burkas with amazingly beautiful black eyes piercing out.

Returning to Kuala Lumpur, I have to make mention of this bar called Luna. It's on the rooftop, open air with a huge pool in the middle, comfy cushions and alcoves all around the outside with private little views out over KL.

Singapore

My trip begun in typical fashion with a serious injury. With Nick, Michael and Stu all together in Singapore, we decided to head out for some mountain bike riding. I've spent a bit of time on the old bike, but never actually done any 'proper' mountain bike riding: down trails, steep up and down hill sections with roots and rocks trying their best to trip you up. I think I was doing quite well flying around the bends, perhaps this led me to a false sense of confidence. For while riding on the road is one thing, riding on trails is another, and jumps are a completely separate skill to master. I think the last time I tried a jump was when I was 10 years old with a couple of friends just off Park Drive. I remembered it being lots of fun. Shame I don't feel that way about jumps anymore. It was this happy memory combined with my recently acquired confidence that led me to jump (ugh) at the idea when I saw a huge downhill section of track with two jumps at the end. There was probably a good 50 metres of fairly steep downhill before a smallish jump, then another 20 metres before a big one. I pumped away as I headed towards the first jump, flew up into the air and was instantly scared stiff with no idea how I was supposed to land without crushing my most tender of areas. I lent forward a little hoping to approach the ground quicker. This put the balance right off, I could tell I was weighted all wrong. I landed though and managed to control the heavy landing on my front tyre somehow. Oh well, no turning back now, although the thought did shoot through my head. A few more pumps as I approached the big jump, then whee .. oh my god, same problem, it worked last time, I'll just lean forward again .. Next thing I know I'm beginning to do a forward somersault. I turn a bit to the right and slam my shoulder into the ground as I go right over the handle bars and the bike flips on over me. I laugh, then grimace as I try my shoulder out for mobility. I seem able to rotate the arm fully without too much pain, so I figure I'm ok, but it does have a dull ache. The rest of the guys catch up, laughing, then point at my leg. Wow, didn't notice but my sandals are filling with blood. Onwards to a river where I attempt to wash the wounds revealing what looks like something out of a horror movie. It looks like someone had taken to my leg with a cheese grater, I laugh some more and enjoy grossing the guys out. Unfortunately as we ride on we manage to get lost and I'm beginning to really wish I could get back, wash the wounds properly and rest. Eventually we find the way out where Nick, after navigating all of the rocks and roots, manages to flip his front wheel around and fall off his bike on a straight section of smooth road. Apparently some huge bug hit him in the head. We stop for some roti and beer on the way back to the bike shop. One of the waitresses spots my leg, which is now resembling some kind of crazy 3 coloured drink, dripping red blood, seeping yellow liquid and oozing orange slime. She tells me to wash it in the bathroom and she'll apply some chinese medicine.



Waitress: "It stings a little"

Me: "No worries, just like betadine I'm sure"

I have to say this was the most intense, sharp pain I have ever felt. My face went taught and I nearly had to scream. It smelt a little like tiger balm.

Waitress: "Yes, you can't use this on little children"

I was extremely grateful for it though and sure enough, a few weeks down the track, the wounds have healed better than any I've ever had.

On the way back, Mic's pedal and crank fell off, so he decided to jog along next to us up the hills. After about 30 minutes through the 30+ degree heat and sunshine he nearly died, requiring a taxi to transport his heaving sweaty mass back to the shop. This brought the toll of the ride to 4/4 as Stu had managed to use some crazy poisonous leaf to clean his hand of oil from adjusting his chain, leaving it swollen and numb. So a good day out for all!

The next day we had possibly one of the nicest meals I've ever eaten. The buffet at the Grand Hyatt, with delicacies from all around the world, oysters, salmon, snails, sushi, sashimi, satays, dumplings, noodles, a carvery and even a chocolate fountain.





All with freshly squeezed juice or champagne, all you can drink. We ended up retiring to the cigar room.



We had the pleasure of meeting Sasha and his lovely Taiwanese friend. She was very friendly ..



After a couple of whiskeys things were beginning to get blurry, or maybe it was all that cigar smoke. We ended up at a bar in town where frozen margaritas, a few beers and some tequila shots had me trying to pick up a pigeon to bite into it. Thankfully I could barely stand, let alone catch a pigeon. The night ended with everyone throwing me into the pool until security found me and threw me out again.