Temple Temper

I came close to losing it with a temple vendor at 5.30 this morning, after days of "Laydee! Tuk tuk?" every 10metres down the road in Siem Reap. Competition for business is fierce here, and I'm too polite to ignore, so 100+ engagements/conversations a day have tested my patience. This morning I arrived at Angkor Wat for sunrise. The lady selling crappy plastic 10cent Chinese torches bore the brunt of my annoyance with myself for not bringing my sexy head torch. Three steps after my grumpy refusal to buy, I realized I was not going to make it across the naga bridge limbs-intact on the torchlight of others, and that my journey from the land of mortals to that of the Gods may be more literal than I'd like. So, I turned back. The worst start to any negotiation: clear need. "How much?" "Five Dollar". "Whaaaat? No waaay man!" This exchange went on for a while, but all those teenage years of haggling for bead necklaces, stone sculptures and crochet tops out there by Newlands shopping centre paid off and I handed over $1.50. I only just managed to keep my temper. But, sadly, not my dignity. As I handed over my photo pass to the ticket inspector, I realized I had my sunglasses on. And, of course, the world appeared much lighter and more navigable without them. Why (you may ask) did I have my sunglasses on before dawn? You will only be asking this question if you have not ridden in a tuk tuk in a dusty, insect-friendly place. Eyeball protection.

Well, the sunrise was breathtaking, literally, drawing gasps and chattering from hundreds of expectant sun-watchers. I nearly missed it, because I've lived in a light-polluted city for so long that I had forgotten that the sun only rises a while after it gets light (my my all this idiocy confessional can't be good for my image). I wondered why the crowds were still watching while I skipped across to the galleries to catch another, untouristed view of the "Churning of the Sea of Milk". Anyway, I caught the sunrise and then made a dash for my tuk tuk to get across to 2 smaller temples, Bantay Srei and Bantay Samre, before the swarm of tour buses.
 
  

The hour's journey was balm for the soul. Hazy palm-dotted plains with cattle grazing, breakfasting villagers, traders setting up shop amongst the coconut trees, very small kids on very large bikes on their way to school. And what a treat Banteay Srei was when we got there: a small pinky-orange sandstone temple bathed in the early morning light. This was my favorite temple: the carvings are delicate, intricate, and mostly well-preserved. I may just have been swayed in my choice of favourite by this information from the travelfish Angkor guide app: "Some have suggested that the temple was built by women as no man could have created something so beautiful and with so fine a hand". 

       

         

I'm currently delighted by the night bus, which has given me an extra day in Siem Reap and enabled me to get a 3day pass and to see these outlying temples.There a few photos below. The app I'm using to blog is quite limited: it doesn't support captions and the Flickr app I'm using is refusing to upload photos properly, so I'll have to try and add more temple pics later. There are some more pics of Bangkok from my last trip through (still loving Bangkok) as well as pics of Siem Riep Old Market (tasty). For now, forgive the higgeldy piggeldy formatting.

I'm off south tonight and then volunteering for a couple of weeks, so will probably catch up with you folk when I reach Vietnam. Cheerio for now.

Posted from Siem Riep, 22 March 2012


Bantay Samre:


Chatuchak Market, Bangkok:





Siem Riep - Old Market:

 

 Foot spa: "Dr Fish - No piranha" (you sure?)

Got my blue paper!

Woooo hooooo! No whale sharks (well, not yet - Therese, I need some stronger vibrations on that front), but a very scrappy piece of paper stapled to my logbook saying I have my Open Water qualification. But it is the best looking piece of scrappy paper I have seen since they thrust that temporary green paper ID into my inkened, fingerprinted 16 year old hands. Yes that ticket to a driving licence and, for some (not me) with modifications and a photocopier, into Sarah's/Rosalind's [nightclubs].

So I can dive. I may not be able to hear very well, but I can dive. Yeeeehaaaaa! I had to trade choppy water and the chance of seeing whale sharks for calmer seas and lower likelihood of ear problems before descent. It was in a place called Japanese Gardens, off the coast of beautiful Koh Nang Yuan, a cluster of 3 islets joined by a sandy causeway, north of Koh Tao (pictured below) I came here the other day on a boat snorkelling trip - clear water and amazing snorkelling. I needed that trip to escape the wildlife living in the bathroom of my rustic retreat on the south of the island. Aish! A spider so big not even I felt physically able to take it on with shoe and win, and some vermin which crept in and stole my redskin peanuts from next to my bed. Just a few, from a hole nibbled in side of packet, but enough for me to lose my appetite for peanuts. They spat the red skins out in the bathroom, after relieving themselves next to the basin (peanuts and figs for supper I believe).

Anyway, back to diving. So, some navigation skills, careful ear-popping, heart-pounding underwater mask removal and then off to see the fish again. Nudibranches, electric flatworms, a giant clam, lizard fish and others, and lots and lots of different kinds of coral. Mmmm.

And next? Well, maybe another yoga class at Blue Wind resort tomorrow morning (if you want to know: dingy-looking bungalows, overrated pastries, indifferent cafe staff and very many flies but a peaceful yoga studio open to the fresh air, and a fabulous teacher). Then back to Bangkok, and off to Cambodia on Monday morning. The grumpy ferry staff told me no-ferry-plus-train tickets to Bangkok til next weekend, but the lovely people at Thai travel agency thailandtrainticket waved their speedy magic wand and found me a berth (second time they've sorted me - highly recommended!). So, lesson learned: you can be relaxed but not tooooo relaxed when it comes to key travel plans.

I'm still undecided on whether I really, really need more than one day for temples, or whether I will have sensory overload after a day. I know you will be unamused that this is the difficulty-level of the decisions I have to make at the moment....well, alongside whether I need a snorkel with a bendy bit and purge valve or not. But, if you can set aside your disgust for a second, any suggestions on temples (and, if you wish, on snorkels) would be most welcome. And J and Nicky, I'd value your views on this, but perhaps with some moderating input from other halves, bearing in mind I'm not photofanatic/guru like you guys.

That's all from me for a while. I need to go in search of some DEET. 

Posted from Koh Tao, 16 March 2012 (around 18.15: Chang-o'clock today).

Bangkok to Koh Tao

If you ever travel south from Bangkok to Chumphon/Suratthani and have a few more Baht than a bus fare to spare, then take advice from the man in seat 61 and catch the night train.  For some reason (delight?), my apprehension about sleeping with a bunch of strangers dissolved when I boarded and clocked the retro brown leatherette seats, green curtains and old fans attached to the ceiling. 2nd class is communal, which means meeting the people next to you and watching the people around you. Shaven-headed white-robed Buddhist nuns, a bunch of army guys who tumbled aboard as the train was pulling out of the station. For company I had a Canadian semi-professional Muay Thai boxer on his way to training camp and to turning pro; a young South African lecturing sports science in Bangkok, on his way to full moon party on Koh Phangan (he taught me a new phrase - "bum gun" - no I'm not going there - Google it!); and a lovely Thai lady who'd recently had a personal tragedy and kindly steered me to the right ferry desk when we got to Chumphon.  Perhaps being in a confined space for a long time encourages people to tell strangers quite personal things. Or maybe it's just my matronly looks - the same ones that cause every passing tourist in London to ask me directions. Anyway, take the train, and a jersey if you travel in aircon carriage...and thick-soled shoes for the toilets.

                                    

 

Chumphon. After bodies and bags being labelled pink for Koh Tao by an interesting, flexi-gendered person, we were offloaded at the pier at sunrise. And what a pier it was. Of the rickety wooden type you see in cheese-art wall posters: stretching across a still sea, with palm trees and longtail boats in the background. Unexpectedly romantic.

Koh Tao. First thought as the ferry approached: "oh my, places like this really exist on this Earth". Second and third thoughts: "oh shit, I forgot...first on, last off, duh", and "I feel like a pink-branded cow in a cattle market". But that feeling faded with the friendly welcome I got from the folk at my dive shop, who are also a refreshingly enviro-conscious bunch doing their bit to combat plastic waste which is a real problem on an island and in the marine environment.

I won't rehearse the confined water skills underwater mask removal scene for the world at large, but let's just say it was public humiliation no.2. And then I dived. Wooo hooooo! Amazing! I saw butterfly fish, angel fish, banner fish, spotted rabbit fish, orange-spined unicorn fish and barracuda...aaand Titan trigger fish, grouper, tiny translucent shrimps that clean your cuticles if you keep your hand still, a tiger cowrie, a Durban dancing shrimp, gobi (a little fish that lives in a hole in the sand on the sea bed with a shrimp that does the housework) and lots of others. I have no idea how rare or yawn-common these things are, but it was fascinating to be down there with them.

So good that I was uncharacteristically not too boverred by public humiliation no. 3. I inadvertently flashed a good few people when the toilet door on the dive boat flew open (choppy seas man, and inadequate briefing about the method of locking - note: don't use the shiny bolt, use the grubby piece of string and attach to tiny nail). Happily, a woman instructor came to my rescue and held the door shut whilst I sorted out my tangled one-piece swimming cosi (yeah, I may well be the only person on the entire island not wearing a bikini). 10 mins later it was a funny anecdote. Ok, 1 hour 10 mins later. At this rate of public humiliation I'll be shameless by the end of my travels. Poor you guys! So I may buy a bikini, especially after the Thai massage lady told me "you have niiice body" as she cricked my back.

"Right ear pain?"......"I can't see tympanic membrane. Uhhh you have wax...wax impact. You need ear irrigation." "How long will that take? I have to dive at 11.45". My final 2 dives to get my Open Water qualification. The doctor looked inexperienced, nervous. He shooed me over to a communal bed in the clinic where nurses administered ear drops to cries of "do you have insurance?" Everyone disappeared to the back until I called out "hello - o" over the clink and clatter of lunch. Once on my feet, I asked if the doctor was going to try to find my eardrum again before they sent me on my way. Somehow, this question provoked surprise. The doctor eventually emerged. After more pulling and twisting of ear and lobe and poking with different lights, he confessed that he could only see 50% of my eardrum. "Does that mean my eardrum has burst?" "Yes." Incredulity. "No diving?" [thinking in my head "ever"]. "No diving". He said I'd need to go to Koh Samui to see an ear specialist.  Dazed and upset, with visions of my insurer wrenching me back to the UK floating before my teary eyeballs, I was moto-zipped across town by my dive instructor for a second opinion. That doctor at least looked like he knew what he was doing. Eardrum intact (pheeewhooooo) but a bleed in the middle ear. No diving for 7 days and instructions on the circumstances in which it would be ok to try again after that. Big relief mixed with big disappointment...oh nooooooo, my plans up the spout. I'd been considering doing my Advanced Open Water over the weekend combined with a trip to Sail Rock, one of the best dive sites on the island. What to do? Well, instead of pressing on to Cambodia and completing my OW there, I've decided to stay here for a few more days (cheaper, and Koh Tao is well set up for dive emergencies and for people like accident-prone me) and adjust my plans for Cambodia. So, I may do some snorkelling, seek out a yoga class and while away some time in the south of the island (away from the dive shops- sniffle). Possibly here:

Uh-huh, view and weep. Banana Rock Bar - made from driftwood, playing reggae and mellow Thai music, with a picture of Che dangling amongst stringed sea shells, and run by a hip young eye-linered Thai dude, who looks like he'd rather live in a city (yeaaaah or maybe not - such a lovely spot). And I will swim/watch passing boats here:

And I will try to supress the urge to demand my money back from doctor no. 1 for incompetence and subjecting me to unnecessary and costly treatment.  Please send me positive vibrations for my ear. I would very much like for it to be better by Friday morning (GMT: midnight Thursday). Oh and I should say, I'll have even more sporadic internet access for the next three weeks. Toodle- om (yeah I have yoga withdrawals).

Posted: Koh Tao, 11 March, about 16.55.

Arrival, Bangkok - What is it like?

"It's like London on steroids" was the answer I got when I asked this question of a solo traveller back in London. But the first thing that struck me as I travelatored across Suvarnabhumi airport was the mento-pink seats. 

And then a glimpse (from the skytrain) of a row of shocking pink cars. I thought it must be a sun/height optical illusion or fatigue hallucinations ("they must be red, no?") But no, the taxis are pink, pink pink and orange and yellow and green (sadly, not many purple). And although I'm not a very big fan of pink, I am charmed by Bangkok.

There are bits that are grimy as all hell and bits which are lip-curling swanky. I tried to capture the contrast in photos, but the grimy place just kept photographing as charming (maybe all the mango and fresh-pressed satsuma juice is coloring my outlook).

      - v -

 
You can tequila vote on which part of town I'm staying in (keep your hair on parentals - not actually at one of the places in the photo). But not too far from this place:

And first impressions of the smell of Bangkok? Hmm....old takkies (trainers). The taste? Oh oh how to describe? Worth crossing the world for. A tasty green papaya salad with unusual, leafy things, and my first public humiliation: an eye-watering encounter with a small green chilli - serves me right for smirking at an overheard American lamenting the same chilli. Delicious noodles from a street vendor so busy that the back of his truck became a makeshift table (with pink stools of course). 

I saw some amazing temples yesterday, made more fun by meeting a French woman. Neither of us could speak much of each other's language (her English much better than my French) but we got by, with a lot of laughs. I also stopped by the Khao San Zoo Road to see what all the fuss is about, and because my budget may take me there when I next pass through Bangkok. My my! Posers and pizzas galore. But, a couple of blocks up, I found a delightful department store with handwritten receipts and a haberdashery section (yeah yeah, I needed cotton - my beloved wrap has holes in it). Reminded me of the old Woolworths in Harare - the one with glass sectioned counters, and lots of sweets!  Anyway, here's a selection of pics. Whoop whoop for colour!

 

 

     

     
                                                  


 Posted: 5 March 2012

Departure

 

Sunshine-hazy London 

 This is iiiit! I'm starting with a line from the Zimdians’ AirZim “live inflight entertainment” anecdote, as they’ve inspired me to stop talking and start travelling. 

I’ve finally extracted myself from the office, leaving a wake of biscuit crumbs and postcard promises for desk no. 83.  Before I deal with my serious packing-procrastination, I have to work out how to do this blog thing.  Who am I writing it for?  Well, I reckon the bored masses are not so bored that they’ll bother to read it and weep/jeer, so I’m writing it to keep you, my scatterling friends and family posted. I know that you’ll pretend that you’ve read it with rapt fascination (translation: with mild boredom whilst pretending to work).

As for the blog name, some suggestions were exceedingly rude about my age (ahem, CM), but I went with something related to the most reliable mode of transport back home.  No doubt there will be some confusion with purple potatoes, but hopefully the thumbnail picture helps.  Do forgive random text or upside-down photos that appear from time to time whilst I work out the technology.

Off to say my final goodbyes (hmm, London looks lovely today in the hazy sunshine).  All travel tips still welcome.  Toodle-oo.