Asian Adventure 21 :: 22-27 Feb '11 :: Yangon and Bagan

"Grand" Hotel

"Manchester, Portsmouth, Liverpool, Arsenal", said the taxi driver after he had learned my native country. An impressive knowledge of the English premier league teams and strong brand awareness of the BBC seems to sit with many Myanmar citizens.

Near City Hall

Beautiful Shwedagon Pagoda

Dusty roads, uneven pavements with man-sized gaping holes and road barriers covered in barbed wire characterise Myanmar's highways. Colonial buildings stand decaying, their façades covered with black soot and mould. Night falls; limited street lighting makes the pavements even more precarious to the untrained eye. Over-loaded buses, battered and falling to pieces clatter past at speed, weaving in and out of rows of saloon cars from the 1980s. A knee-high child lingers by the side of a busy road, examining something freshly plucked from the floor. No obvious parent is in sight.

Downtown, the streets team with foodstalls and betel nut sellers. Here, you can experience the true smell of Asia - a heady mixture of exhaust fumes, street barbecues, decaying tropical vegetation and the occasional whiff of sewerage.

Street food


Snake head, anyone?

Betel nut stall

Every other block, you'll find a set of home telephones laid out on a table or a make-shift booth. It costs over US$1000 to buy a SIM card in Myanmar. People either rent mobile phones or stand in the street on a home phone hooked up to the local network, which is sketchy at the best of times.

Home phone a friend

The local currency notes are limp and blemished, as if they have been through the washing machine and left out to dry in a muddy puddle. Perversely, US dollars won't be accepted as tender unless they are clean and crisp, as if fresh off the press.

Traditional dress is prevalent and thanaka (a yellowish-white cosmetic paste made from ground tree bark) coats the cheeks of many women and children. Whilst heavily controlled - many have had their passports confiscated - people are warm, welcoming and calm. Strange for a country ruled by a military so distant - how many people know that the capital was moved from Yangon in 2005 three hundred kilometres north to Nay Pyi Taw?

Cleaning time at Shwedagon Pagoda


Sunset prayers at Shwedagon Pagoda

Taxis rides are a beltless swerving adventure in a car that doesn't even have a tape deck, only a short wave radio. Forget about the cooling fan, the windows are permanently down. Those with an aversion to hairdryers should not apply. Our last taxi driver of the holiday was high on betel nut, at every traffic light throwing his head back and cackling as he saw the whites of our eyes in his rear view mirror. It was one of those moments when you had to laugh. Nervously.

Travelling up north on Air Bagan is a reprieve from the bustling streets of Yangon. Welcome to the land of horse and cart. A bandana face mask comes in useful for the dust kicked up by your trusty steed and a torch can save you from descending pitch black interior temple staircases. Children pester you for 'bon-bons' (clearly, the French hand out the most sweets) and no major temple is without rows of 'same same but different' souvenirs. That said, the views are simply stunning.

Bagan Skyline

View of the largest temple in Bagan

Rare Double Buddha

In all, Myanmar is a mystery. The expectation that the military would be highly visible and that you might just get locked up for whispering "Aung San Suu Kyi" did not materialise. Yangon is rough, ready and fast decaying. Bagan is peaceful, nostalgic and so far only gently kissed by the plump lips of tourism. What will happen in the next twenty years is uncertain. As political corruption allows infrastructure to crumble and sag, will the Myanmar of today eventually wither and die? Will the rulers simply keep moving to new outposts where they can build shiny new palatial homes leaving behind one urban mess after another?

Check it out:
Kandawgyi Palace Hotel, Yangon
Monsoon (85-87 Thien Byu Road, Yangon)
Bogyoke Aung San Market (Scott Market), Yangon

Asian Adventure 20 :: 3-6 Feb '11 :: Hanoi

Hanoi Rocks. The words, stuck onto a school bag, have stayed with me for the past fifteen years. My trip felt long overdue. Shame then, that we chose to go to Hanoi when our dates coincided with the Tết holiday. So smug had we felt when booking our cheap flights four months previously. So annoyed we felt when we arrived in 'post-apocalyptic Hanoi'.

Renowned for its busy and bustling streets filled with motorbikes and food stalls spilling across each pavement, Hanoi was a ghost town. After leaving our bags at our simple but effective hotel, we wandered the Old Town streets, dodging the odd wire hanging from the mess of cables overhead and marvelling at the anorexic buildings constructed to house several generations under one roof. After an unsuccessful attempt at finding nourishment at one of the few street food stalls (it tasted like crushed beetles wrapped in caterpillar skin), our grumbling bellies were soothed in the ubiquitous noodle chain, pho24.


Skinny living

That evening, we had a rather disappointing meal at Restaurant Bobby Chinn. For a restaurant that prides itself on its 'fusion' menu, this felt more like, 'blended cuisine'. Neither Asian nor Western; neither good nor awful. It was all just somewhere in between - nothing to excite the palate nor particularly to induce vomit. Distinctly average.

Thankfully, we were destined for a relaxing trip around Hạ Long Bay for the remainder of our long weekend, so the next morning we zoomed at breakneck speed to the coast care of the Paloma Cruise minibus. Only one stop was made for the rest and refueling of our driver - at a roadside cafe attached to a huge store selling an odd collection of marble statues and other random trinkets. Shockingly, photographs of people purchasing statues with their full names and email addresses adorned the outside walls. Weird 101.


No word of a lie

Arriving in the Bay, we were greeted on board by a loud blasting of 'Happy New Year' by Abba and a welcome speech given by our dear leader, who had an intriguing approach to the English language. Mostly, "We are so happy" interspersed with details of the cruise itinerary and the history of the poorly timed Tết holiday. We consoled ourselves with a Hanoi 'bia' on top deck with a slight chilly wind on our faces.


View from top deck

Just before dinner was served, we took part in a cooking (read: rolling) class where we assembled spring rolls and watched the chef dunk them in oil. Surprisingly, even the ones made by the stubby fingers of Chinese children onboard with their multi-member families were edible. Note to self: Add spring rolls to foolproof recipe list.

And then came a string of further disappointing meals (was the usual chef on his bloody Tết holiday too?) which were more Thai than Vietnamese, and more oil than substance. We retired early to bed after a short-lived attempt at squid fishing. Believe.

The next morning, we awoke to find ourselves in Vietnam's boat parking lot. Time to ride: off we pootled on our speedboat to clamber into a rowing boat steered by a pitiful lady struggling under the weight of four Western fatties. Trying not to be too distracted by her huffing and puffing, we enjoyed peering into the lives of those who live in the Floating Village. Next up was Sung Sot Cave (a.k.a. 'Amazing Cave'). Let's put it this way: apart from the penis rock, don't be fooled by the nickname. If piped music at a heritage site is your thing, however, please feel free to arrange for an extended visit.


I hope your biceps are strong...



Highlight of the trip to 'Amazing Cave' is 'Penis Rock'.

We exited the Bay in much the same fashion as we had arrived, only this time, our fellow minibus passengers had to ask the driver to conduct the vehicle a little less maniacally. Very amusing. We were rather enjoying the skill with which he demonstrated the signature Vietnamese haphazard weave. Back in Hanoi, we had enough luck to taste some of the dishes we had been craving by simply going to the Elegance Diamond Hotel's restaurant. Finally, cha ca la vong and bun cha were no more strangers and we slurped and munched with delight.


The height of fashion in downtown Hanoi

Overall, we felt like we had been in Hạ Long Bay about ten years too late - long after tourism's grubby fingers had touched everything. And we were just unlucky to coincide with the Tết holiday in Hanoi. Our love for Vietnam is far from over - we are only just beginning.

Asian Adventure 19 :: 31 Dec '10 -4 Jan '11 :: Bali

For New Year this year, we decided to go it alone and enter the territory of Eat, Pray, Love. Ubud welcomed us with a deluge - we even had to roll up our trousers just to reach our room. Why oh why did we opt to stay amongst the rice paddies?

8 pm until ALL PASS OUT

As is often customary in centres of tourist exploitation, we were charged a hefty US$75 each for the New Year Dinner & Dance. Not a drop of alcohol was served. The food came at a rate of knots and given the fact that we're just not that in to Balinese 'dance' music, we had retired to our four poster bed to watch films by 10.30 pm. Nice.


Ubud is full to bursting with handicraft shops. Should you be searching for a mosaic plate, wood carving, wind chime or garden furniture, you need look no further. And if your aural senses are heightened by the smooth groove of Ethnic Lounge, then you should seriously consider moving there.


A trip out to Tegallalang (organise it through your hotel) is a must for the quintessential photos of the tiered rice terraces and as long as you are up to date with your rabies injections, you should not fear a stroll through the Monkey Forest.




Just avoid the idiotic people who insist on 'hand-feeding' the monkeys (unless you consider having a monkey jump on your back and bite your face and shoulder in a frenzied attack on the hand-held banana a fun experience).


Cafe Lotus and Indus were other treats along the way before splashing out on a supreme tasting menu at Mozaic. It was a delectable journey, each dish captured by the three diners on the table next to us on their mobile phones. There's nothing like a bunch of food bloggers taking photos from all angles of their own and their companions' dishes to distract from the peaceful enjoyment usually associated with fine dining.

Our driver told us that the last five years had seen a marked increase in traffic in Ubud. Given the sheer number of EPL's (a.k.a. single, white females re-discovering 'life') clinging to local motorcyclists and the more daring ones going it alone, I can only predict that Ubud's roads will become more and more gridlocked. I dare say the number of 'mixed race' babies being born in Bali will no doubt see a spike too.

Ubud is certainly a peaceful alternative to the busy beaches of Seminyak. Of the few large hotels, many are hidden from view down sheltered approaches so a lot of the area still has a village feel. A village selling all manner of homewares imaginable, nonetheless. Shop, Sleep, Sloth.

Asian Adventure 18 :: 4-7 Nov '10 :: Kanchanaburi

The order of the day was a weekend of chilling with a little splash of culture. Kanchanburi, just two-and-a-half hours from Bangkok fitted the bill. We skipped over to Bangkok to stay at the Siamese Views Lodge for the night ('boutique' = 'basic', rather than 'trendy' in this instance) and enjoyed an evening stroll down the Khao San Road - land of henna tattoos, deep fried beetles, fake ID cards and I ♥ Boyfriend t-shirts.

The next morning, we were picked up early by our driver arranged through Xanadu 2008, where we were to stay for the following three days. Run by Dennis from the UK and his Thai wife, Nee, it was a homely place perfect for peaceful contemplation outside of the backpacker vibe in central Kanchanaburi.


Famous for being the home of The Bridge over the River Kwai (formerly the Mae Klong River before it was re-named), the majority of Kanchanaburi's delights lie away from the main tourist drag.


All are welcome


Sadly, the centre is over-populated with seedy bars offering Western food by day and sex tourism by night. Many also stop off to get their dreadlocks repaired or grab another henna tattoo before their onward trip to discover 'The Beach'. A little bit of culture before staying up for 48 hours dancing to psy-trance never hurt anybody, right?


We hired a motorbike (despite being licence-free) and journeyed off to the Erawan Waterfalls. A straight road takes you right to the doorstep of seven levels of refreshing azure plunge pools. Our young legs took us up to level five where our feet were tickled by the gentle caresses and occasional nips from the resident fish.


The only spoilers were the two over-sized Russians who 'spoke' only in sign language and who rudely motioned for me to move from where I was sitting so that they could take photos of each other posing in their skintight Speedos.


Before scooting back to base, we detoured to the Phra That Caves - a monstrous cavern hidden at the top of approximately one million steps (okay, the equivalent of doing twenty-five minutes on a poorly calibrated step machine). As we were the only visitors at the time (and it was the last week of low season), the usual cave lighting was off meaning that we had a one on one guide lit by a kerosene lamp. The experience allowed me to re-live my childhood fear of the dark and it was all topped off when the lamp was shone on a white snake coiled around the fence about 30cm from my left foot. That's when I momentarily lost my sense of humour and was glad to squeeze back through the gap in the rocks known as the exit.

We are never disappointed with Thailand. Great food, beautifully kind people and a huge variety of breathtaking and thought-provoking attractions. There's something for everyone - even dirty old men looking for a cheap date. Kanchanaburi, for us, was a superb place for some R&R whilst having enough to see and do that kept our brains from turning to mush.

Asian Adventure 16 :: 9-11 Jul '10 :: Rawawawawawrrrr

This time, we had vowed not to be up until 6 am BOTH nights. Our plan to stave off the deadly poison on Friday was hampered by arriving at Mersing only to discover that the tides were too low for the speedboat to take us to paradise. All fifteen of us ended up being transported to a local hotel room suite where the "this will end in tears" game of Ring of Fire ensued, interrupted only by a few bouts of Charades and the snores of those for whom the bed had been too enticing. Five and a half hours later, we finally arrived on Pulau Rawa for the intense carnage to continue on Saturday when another fifteen reprobates displaced from Singapore (aka friends) arrived. Cue vigourous amounts of chillaxation, chats about life, the universe and everything, lip-smackingly delicious grub and a whole lotta P*A*R*T*Y.

Asian Adventure 15 :: 26-28 Mar'10 :: Return to Rawa

Who wouldn't want to wake up to this view on a Saturday morning?

It was my *bright* idea to journey up to Rawa on Friday night instead of leaving early Saturday morning, as before, to avoid feeling obliged to go to some rubbish nightspot to stay awake. We left Singapore just after six thirty and arrived at midnight after a loooong border crossing involving a stop for 'more booze', urination behind a bush, the border police and forgotten employment passes. Nevertheless, it meant that we had two full on Paradise P!ss-Ups, ending both nights at 6 a.m. Pure class in a glass and an awesome send-off to our dear friend, Katie, who soon leaves these shores for the Motherland.

Asian Adventure 14 :: 12-16 Feb '10 :: Bohol

Twelve hours after rising from our beds, we were unpacking our bags in paradise. On the way, we enjoyed a few hours layover in the Krisflyer Lounge at Manila airport before boarding Philippine Airlines for a trip accompanied by 'greaseless peanuts' and a candid camera show, thankfully on 'silent'.

Touching down at Tagbilaran Airport we were astounded by the proximity of huts to the runway. People who are against the expansion of Heathrow need to visit The Philippines to get some perspective.

Another remarkable element of this trip was the prevalence of English and religion. Not only were all signs in English, but the standard of spoken English from the locals we met far surpassed what we have experienced in Thailand, Vietnam and Indonesia. Added to that, on the back of each motor-tricycle is a religious sentiment: "God is good"; "Be honest"; or "Do your best and God will do the rest" to name a few examples. Thanks to the Spanish, a surprising 95% of inhabitants of The Philippines are Christian believers, with 80% of those belonging to the Roman Catholic Church.


We sped along the surprisingly well-surfaced roads past half-finished huts; a man taking his goat for a walk; school girls in bright pink uniform and the odd grazing cow. Finally, we took a sharp left passed the sign stating: "Gun Free Zone: Please deposit your firearms" and entered our oasis, at Alona Beach, Panglao.

One thing's for sure, we were quite shocked at the sheer number of beach bars and restaurants that were brimming with life all the way down the Alona strip. The smokey scent of charcoal hung in the air as fires were being stoked for the evening's tasty seafood BBQ dinners. A word of warning: avoid the beachside 'buffets' at all costs and stick with items selected for the BBQ. The buffet we tried turned out to be a couple of plastic tables sagging under the weight of a myriad of plates of tasteless vegetables, fatty meat and overcooked fish. The one amusing element of that evening was that we were surrounded by not one, not two, but three visible handguns. For some odd reason in The Philippines, security guards also double as restaurant waiters, a phenomenon that we would also observe back in Manila. Taking 'moonlighting' to the extreme.



Our two day's diving with SeaQuest was excellent for aficionados of wall diving. Three white-tipped sharks in a cave, schooling jack fish, and a giant hawksbill turtle were highlights of our trips. The fact that our room was a mere fifteen paces to the dive centre also made up for the early starts.

To ensure that we had ticked off all the tourist spots in Bohol, we opted for a day's tour around the mainland. Our driver was clearly a Filipino version of Colin McRae. We enjoyed speeding dangerously on every stretch of straight road and were only mildly perturbed by the technique of 'beep and immediately overtake'.


Chocolate Hills - they turn brown in 'winter'.


One of our tarsier friends.

We treated ourselves to a chocolate ice cream whilst viewing the Chocolate Hills; spotted four out of the ten tarsiers in the Sanctuary; clung on for dear life to the Hanging Bridge; held a butterfly by it's wings and endured another mildly disappointing meal on a cruise down the Loboc River. The highlight of the cruise was certainly the stop-off at the Ati tribe, a Disney-esque take on traditional tribal living. The only difference was that small children who should probably have been in school were also part of the 'act'. All in all, it was an enjoyable day out away from the beach, and worth doing if you're one of those people who gets bored stiff just roasting your skin in the sun.


The Ati tribe.

Overall, our experience made us want to explore other islands in The Philippines. There are 7,107 of them, so plenty to get on with! To secure the future of their tourism industry, they simply need to to send a Filipino envoy to Thailand to learn about beach lighting (billowing material lampshades hung from the trees vs. rope lighting wrapped around trees) and the art of cuisine (even the Valentine's Day meal at upmarket Alona Palm Beach was heavy on the salt). At the same time, the Filipinos can teach the Thais a little about service: with a smile, attentive, and how not to screw up your patrons' orders.

Asian Adventure 13 :: 31 Dec '09-3 Jan '10 :: Ko Lanta

New Year's Eve began in Singapore and ended in Thailand this year. After a short hop to Phuket, we embarked on a four hour long journey by road and boat to Kantiang Bay at the southernmost end of Ko Lanta Yai. We arrived in time for a late lunch which would be the beginning of a string of excellent meals, Thai style.

Our companions had arrived a day earlier, so had scoped out Lanta Miami as a good place for a seafood BBQ on Klong Nin beach, a short cab ride from our hotel, Anda Lanta Resort.


Bliss

Cocktails whilst watching our first sunset preceded our journey up and down the dusty track leading away from our hotel towards the (arguably) posher paved parts of the southern beach roads. As we rocked out in our cab to Michael Jackson, little did we know that we would be taking bus number 11 (a.k.a. w.a.l.k.i.n.g) all the way back to base in the wee hours of New Year's Day.

Following our seafood session, we were ideally positioned to take up a pew at the delightfully named Mong Bar, complete with a menu advertising tickets to the moon. Perfect. Four, please! Klong Nin turned out to be an excellent spot for bars with a range of tunes to suit many tastes including reggae, Thai cultural and house music to make your ears bleed. Included in the experience were fire dances performed by the bar staff; wild rocket launchers masquerading as fireworks; snake tequila shots and, of course, the ubiquitous (but you have to do it or you feel left out) paper lanterns.


Fire-bar-man


It just tasted like "mouldy tequila"

After grabbing two motorcycle taxis complete with sidecars to take us back to our hotel, we were treated to a most hair-raising ride to the edge of the paved road whereupon the drivers decided that their vehicles wouldn't survive the dusty track. Despite willing them to go on, inside all of us were the immediate memories of having to shift weight by re-positioning intermittently to ensure we didn't keel over into the Thai jungle, so we didn't protest too much. Thankfully, due to the brilliance of the moon that evening, our journey on foot was well-lit and passed without incidence of being attacked by monkeys, monitor lizards or just plain old falling over on the uneven road.


Thank you, Moon Shine

To congratulate ourselves on having made it back to our hotel alive, we skipped across the inlet to the neighbouring beach bar, complete with hammocks, good cocktails and a man called Sea who would become our favourite barman on the trip.

Bed at 4 a.m. on New Year's Day and breakfast at 9 a.m. was no mean feat, but well worth it. When else is it not sinful to have chicken stir-fry, fried rice, spaghetti bolognese and crinkle cut fries as your first meal of the day?


All food groups covered!

Some poolside lazying was essential before picking up our scooters for a day of exploring the island. With little traffic, we managed to cross to Lanta Old Town in half an hour, an experience marred only by the fact that the last stretch of road was more dusty than the back of a radiator, leaving us all caked in a fine layer of mud. Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable road trip and we passed many family shacks that gave us an idea of what it was like pre-resorts.

We visited the Drunken Sailors for an excellent lunch of green chicken curry and burgers with a side of "French fried" before heading back for more sunset action and cocktails. Spot a pattern emerging? We were thoroughly exhausted and opted for dinner at our hotel, which was superbly tasty (even if, like many places in Ko Lanta, the service was a little slow at times) followed by drinks in our favourite hammocks next door.

The second day of 2010 had been set aside for diving and massages. So, in that order, we were picked up early doors by Scubafish for a well-organised trip out to Ko Haa. Over our two dives, we saw plenty of fish but missed out on any turtles, which had always been a feature of previous dives. On arrival back at basecamp, we decided to enter virgin territory and indulge in a sixty minute Thai massage. I can't say that I will be rushing to be pushed, pummeled and body-slammed during any future massages so may stick with something Swedish next time. Our evening was rounded off by a delicious meal at Same Same But Different, where we toasted a superb start to the year.

All in all, we thought Ko Lanta was an excellent place for a relaxing New Year, different from the raucous psy-trance raves that you might find on other islands with the same prefix. We were surprised and heartened (given the length of the journey from Krabi alone - 2 hours by road and speedboat) by the number of holidaying families complete with very miniature people and we all agreed it would be a lovely place to return with children. Our over-arching piece of advice: order the bill when you order your last drink. You won't live to regret it.

Asian Adventure 12 :: 26-29 Nov '09 :: Kuala Lumpur and Yangshuo

Another long weekend (Hari Raya Haji), another short break. This time, I went off alone to visit a friend who had been living in China for nine months, five of which had been in Yangshuo. To get there without spending a small fortune, I opted to go via Kuala Lumpur on Malaysia's popular low-cost carrier, Air Asia.

Whilst Air Asia flies out of Terminal 1 of Changi Airport, it flies in and out of Kuala Lumpur's dedicated budget terminal (also known as "Hell On Earth" - full of The Damned and all their children).

To kill the time between touching down at 7 pm and departing for Guilin at 6 am, I embarked on the one hour journey into the city (via dusty, smelly bus to the international terminal and super-sleek, looks-like-the-Heathrow-Express fast train) to meet with some friends at Leonardo's Dining Room and Wine Loft.


Flamin'

A few whiskies and some bright blue shots set on fire later, we journeyed off into the night to chow down on some excellent nasi lemak (coconut rice, beef rendang, ikan bilis, peanuts and extra chilli sauce served on a banana leaf - what's not to like at 3 am?) at a busy mamak stall. Then, off I was whisked in a taxi, slowly jolting in and out of consciousness as my driver sped towards the airport.

Arriving back in Hell, it seemed the population of The Damned had doubled. It was utter mayhem attempting to check-in whilst still mildly inebriated and lacking sleep. The Departure Hall was worse than the Arrivals, so it was with a great sigh that I found a suitably hard chair and spent my waiting time muttering about the loudness of the tannoy and the constant flow of imbeciles around me, seemingly travelling with their kitchen sinks and three generations of their families.

It was with pure joy that I stepped out into the cold air at Guilin airport at 10 am. It was the first time that I had seen my breath for a very long time, so I marvelled at that for a few seconds whilst I located the mini-bus that would take me into the city centre. Forty five minutes later, I de-wedged myself and hopped off the bus into the roaringly busy Friday morning traffic.

First stop after meeting my friend and another friend who was on a South East Asian tour, was the Seven Star Scenic Park where we lunched on bland dumplings and started the first of many sniggers at the beautiful command of English that appears on the majority of signs in China.


warm reminding you

Shortly after, we decided to ditch Guilin in favour of the more picturesque surroundings of Yangshuo so hopped on a local bus where I intermittently topped up my sleep credits between the loud honks of the bus horn and knocking my head against the window as we journeyed down the bumpy road.

On arrival in Yangshuo, I immediately sensed the calm and laid back atmosphere in stark contrast to the bustle of Guilin.

The man selling bamboo was having a nap in the street, sausages hung from windows slowly air-drying and the view across the Li River of the monoliths in the mist was breathtaking.


Bamboo man nap time


Monoliths in the mist

After admiring the view from my friend's flat and getting settled in to my home for the next 48 hours, we took a stroll to grab some food at a local eating house off Shen Shen Lu Road, opposite the Tai Chi school where for just six RMB (55 pence/S$1.20), we had our pick of raw ingredients which was stir-fried and served with rice. Simple, but delicious.


Roof terrace view - surrounded by beautiful mountains


Take your pick!

For our after-dinner stroll, we ambled around the most bustling part of Yangshuo, West Street (or to use its full name, "West Plaza hotel shopping food Walking Street") where we were greeted with stares and people wanting to take our photograph whilst we perused the selection of hundreds of trinkets you never knew you needed.



We shot some pool at MC Blues, pondered what could possibly be in a "Pakistan Sandwich" and relaxed in the roof top expat haven of Monkey Janes, complete with dedicated beer pong table, and snake surprise.


Any idea what's in a Pakistan Sandwich? Answers on a postcard. We were laughing too much to be able to ask.


Snake Surprise

The next day, we hired bikes and, after a hearty breakfast of dumplings next door to the "Simmer soup crock Museum", headed off on a circular tour along the Yu Long river. We stopped by the Outside Inn before heading to the Jiu Xian art house via lunchtime. In a falling down hamlet by the Yu Long river, we were led to our eating house with no menu and no other customers.


Sliced pork and potatoes in oyster sauce, fried egg and tomatoes and deep fried battered aubergine with steamed rice. Delicious and peaceful! (^_^)


Best name for a cat I ever heard: Chairman Miaow

After our post-lunch glow had worn off, we travelled along gravelly tracks and concrete roads and had a "Stand By Me" moment. We made up songs, we tried to whistle in tune, we had no map and it felt so good.



Whether it was the mountain surroundings, the air or just something my friend had put in my tea earlier, I can honestly say I was totally relaxed and my smile was a permanent fixture on my face. Then, we reached the ancient river crossing and I soon snapped out of 'free' mode to 'OK, I could actually fall in the water' mode. Clambering down the bank after negotiating our special price for foreigners, I know I leaned a little too hard on the old man about to 'sail' us across the river on his bamboo raft.


Aiii-yaaaaaugh

Once over the other side, we rewarded ourselves by having a terribly sophisticated coffee in a beautiful riverside house with this sign outside:


"You? Sorry, what? WTF?!"

As the mist was drawing in and the coffee had warmed our cheeks, we decided to get a shift on and hot-biked it back to the centre in time for the 7 pm watershed on our rental. Cold shower, no shave and a quick costume change and we were on course for a deliciously stodgy pizza meal, at Rock 'n' Grill, that would line our stomachs for the evening's entertainment: Sid's Birthday.

On the way to The Alley Bar, we passed by two types of stall found all over Yangshuo: The t-shirt shop and the grill stand.


Osama Bin Raden


The soft palate (l) and penis of a pig (r)... on a stick. Dessert, anyone?

We arrived to see the party in full swing and were in time for the ceremonious tune (I was saddened not to hear anyone singing along in Chinese, but hey, this is expat central). I hadn't envisaged being able to ride carefree through the mountains and then go out clubbing, especially before my flight the next morning, but I am easily led. Especially when on holiday. Thankfully, booming East End warehouse this wasn't. Any club containing a pole, funky teenagers and the odd man in his work suit is usually on the 'no-go' list for me, but I can honestly say it was fun taking photos.


Funky


Funky chicken?

Leaving some time around 3 am, we had time to reflect on the evening and the trip in a post-alcohol haze. There is a high turnover rate of expats in Yangshuo. Whether they are lost souls searching for something; running from something; or just hopping in because it's a rare Chinese 'safe haven' and hopping back out before heading onwards to Thailand, the expats are full of anecdotes to share. My over-arching feeling was that Yangshuo is probably one of the few places in China where they have balanced Westernisation with traditional culture. When I return in twenty years, I wonder if I will have changed my viewpoint.