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Luang Prabang….Ahhh, pretty!!

Posted by ally on December 18th, 2009 1 Comment

We arrived at Luang Prabang airport on the smallest plane in the world…at least it seemed that way until we saw the smaller plane that Lao airlines were flying from Vientiane to Luange Prabang when we landed.  We flew Bangkok Air which is a serviceable enough airline.  Being a ATR70 (that’s code for IT HAD PROPELLERS!!!!) it was only a small service.  A pleasant two hour flight and we had left the horrors of Bangkok behind us and arrived in  lovely Luang Prabang.

We then had to line up to purchase our visas.  This took about half an hour as there was a long line of people and only one person taking money and writing out the visa.  Once the visas were obtained and duly admired we then had to line up for passport control.  This also took a little while as there were two men – one to look at the passport and one to stamp it.  By this time our bags were the last on the conveyor belt.  Someone had obviously gotten tired of watching them go around so we found them dumped on the floor.  Fair enough I guess, there were only around 40 passengers+ luggage to get through and we were the last ones in the line.

Anyway, once we were through the airport we got a taxi to take us to our hotel, Lotus Villa, which was very nice with a comfortable bed, hot shower and a balcony out the front from which we could watch the procession of monks each morning.

The alms giving each morning is a time honoured tradition in which, usually, housewives give rice to the monks as they pass by each morning, ensuring that the monks have breakfast and that the housewives make “merit” each day.  It is facinating to watch.  Unfortuantely it is at 6am! There are signs all around the town asking that visitors to the area respect the custom and stand a small distance away to watch and to not point flashing cameras into the monks faces. It was a nice thing to watch first thing in the morning.

Adam was not feeling at all well by the time we arrived at the hotel, so we stayed indoors for a few hours so he could get to rest. We went out in search of dinner and found a resturant just around the corner from our hotel, The 3 Nagas, where we dined on Mekong river weed and buffalo skin amongst other delights. It cost a bit more than we were expecting but was a very satisfying dinner for our introduction into Luang Prabang eating.

The next day we were up early to watch the monks on their morning trail before breakfast. With Adam feeling better we set off to explore. There really isn’t a lot of Luang Prabang, but there is a lot to see. Walking down the main road we dropping into the Grand Palace for a look. It’s not nearly as big as the one in Phnom Penh or as shiny as the one in Bangkok. It has been made into a museum of the old Royal Family. It was nice and interesting. Not really and WOW moments, although they did have a very impressive mosaic on the walls of the throne room, much like Wat Xieng Thong. After the palace we walked into the wat on the main street. It wasn’t as spectacular as some of the wats we have seen, but still very nice.

We really didn’t do a lot other than walk and eat for the rest of the day. Luang Prabang is really just one of those places where you can get a lot out of it just be taking it easy. There are things to do, the Pak Ou Caves, the waterfalls, elephant riding, trekking, kayaking….the list can go on, but you can have just as much fun sitting in one of the cafes and watching the world go by. There is such a huge diversity of people to watch there.

We spent three lovely days there before we were off to Nong Khiaw…..by boat! This was a 6 hour boat ride which deserves a blog post all of it’s very own so I will leave things here and pick it up again shortly…………..

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The Only Good Mouse Is A Reading Mouse

Posted by ally on December 5th, 2009 1 Comment

It’s hard to sum up our first two days in Luang Prabang. It’s an exceptionally pretty little town; an elegant melange of Asian and colonial influences. We began the morning observing the Tak Bat ceremony outside our guesthouse during which the faithful offer a small amount of sticky rice to each passing monk; a tradition which provides monks with their morning meal and makes merits for almsgivers. It has become a symbol of this little town, to the extent that there are various posters around town requesting tourists refrain from blinding the monks with camera flashes, impede their path or buying substandard rice to give to the monks.

In the morning we visited the former Royal Palace, now the National Museum. It was much humbler and more domestic than those of Cambodia or Thailand. The museum was completely silent about the fate of the royal family after the 1975 socialist revolution. A highlight, in the hall displaying official gifts to the former royal family, were the miniture moon lander and moon dust which the United States gave to Laos in the 1960’s.

Over the next two days we spent time wandering and admiring the town and it’s many temples, to the extent that we really lost track of which wat was what! Wat Xieng Thong, however, was definitely a highlight with gorgeous mosaics on soft pink walls.

One thing I must mention is Big Brother Mouse, an organisation dedicated to printing and distributing picture books in Lao. Many children in remote villages in Laos have little or no access to books and Big Brother Mouse is dedicated to giving young Lao the opportunity to write, illustrate, produce and print books and to create books that encourage young Lao to read. Ally and I bought some t-shirts and a pack of books to give out to children.

Luang Prabang

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For One Night Only

Posted by adam on December 3rd, 2009 No Comments

Street PerformerSpying a big crowd from a tour bus this guy set up shop for an impormptu show right in front of Sala Bai one afternoon as we were having lunch. Carrying his props in the cart behind him he creates quite an impresion with his vividly dyed hair and tattoos.  After some illusions, flame swallowing the highlight of the show was him jumping through a crude wheel with various knives and flaming torch attached. Not death-defying, perhaps, but worth a couple of dollars.

Here, for your enjoyment, is the climax to his performance.

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Sold Up The Klongs

Posted by adam on December 3rd, 2009 No Comments

We had two nights in Bangkok which began as high farce and largely continued in the same vein, ending with us promising ourselves that we will have to return one day and give the city another try.

It started inauspiciously. We had agreed with Jo and Greg that we would meet them early in the morning on our first day and to see the Grand Palace together, but had not determined any details. Their hotel was on the river, near the Grand Palace; ours was on the other side of the city, but near the BTS. Despite several phone calls the reception at their hotel were unable to find them in the register, even though we knew they had booked in, so we were anxious as to whether to travel to their hotel or to the Grand Palace.

We set out for their hotel. We took BTS to Siam and interchanged to the other line towards Saphan Taksin station to catch the ferry up the Chao Pahyra river. On this second train we began chatting to a very friendly local. During the course of quite a long conversation he offered to direct us to the public pier from Taksin station. Feeling very overwhealmed by Bangkok and struggling to remember whether the pier was very easy or very hard to find from the BTS (I was sure it was one or the other) I stupidly agreed, before Ally had a chance to say otherwise. He ended up leading us to a little private pier somewhere near the Shangri La hotel and by this time I was a bit of wreck. It sounds very stupid and credulous on paper but this fellow was slick and enourmously charming. However, I knew pretty soon that we weren’t in the right place for the public ferry, but didn’t really know where we were and was panicking about how we would meet Jo and Greg.

We ended up paying an exhorbitant amount for a tour of the Klongs (the smaller waterways of old Bangkok) we didn’t want and were shown to a little longtail boat. Sitting on the boat, my reputation as anything like a savvy traveller forever destroyed, the water seemed much choppier than I expected, although my general feeling of unease probably made it worse. We could have taken the tour and minimised our losses, but we decided, instead, to cut our losses and just ask the driver to drop us off at the ferry stop we wanted. She dropped us close by but it took us another few minutes of stress and gesturing on a map with a helpful local security guard to determine exactly where we were. It was an expensive lesson and I still can’t really explain how it happened, espescially as I had read so much about the various scams of Bangkok.

Holding a grudge against the whole city we recouperated in Jo and Greg’s hotel room, and swapped war stories: they had had a bad experience with a tuktuk driver the day before, as everybody who catches a tuktuk in Bangkok seems to. We then caught the proper public ferry down towards the Grand Palace. At the ferry stop there were no signs, but we ascertained the direction and wandered down to the ‘big white fence’. Again, no signage as we tried to find the entrance, and when we did were set upon by guides offering their services and a fellow with a loundspeaker who would bellow at tourists he determined were not in accordance with the dress regulations. Jo was of his victims – her dress was sleeveless and the scarf she had brought for the purpose was deemed insufficient to rectify the sartorial deficiency. Very grudingly she borrowed, for a 100 baht deposit, one of the plain, less than flattering, grey shirts available for the purpose.

The Grand Palace was magnificent, but very busy and hot by the time we arrived. We were funnelled round a set route and at one point there was a sign warning that, for no apparent reason, once we passed through a particular doorway we could not re-enter and there was no turning back. Took some beautiful photos and I am glad we saw it, but we really weren’t in the mood to appreciate it.

We left and decided to see Wat Pho, just a few streets away. On the way several people standing near a empty small buddhist temple – I presume they were tuktuk drivers – came up to warn us that Wat Pho was closed, for a ‘Buddhist day’. Thankfully, we were now easily cynical to ignore such unsought advice and keept walking. After asking a rather confused young man outside the naval academy we found the rather grander Wat Pho. That it was open surprised us not at all.

Wat Pho is famous for its enourmous reclining Buddha, which really was an amazing sight, with stunning mother-of-pearl work under its feet. After a difficult morning we needed something to ‘Wow’ us and this was just the ticket.

We let the fates decide whether we head north on the river towards the backpacker ghetto of Khao San Road or south towards the upmarket shopping malls around Siam. Khao San Road won and we wandered around the night market, finding some little souvenirs and some dresses for Ally and Jo. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as I expected, but a little disheartening between the tourist tat, the tattoo parlours and the Western restaurants.

After saying goodbye to Jo and Greg, Ally and I had a quite cheap, and quite good, dinner at the Siam Paragon mall, which contains like so many of the Asian malls, a simply mind-boggling variety of designer shops.

The next day I woke up sore. We headed to Jim Thompson’s house, built by an eccentric American in the years after the Second World War from a collection of traditional Thai houses sourced from around the country. These one bedroom dwellings were bolted together to create a single house which highlights the beauty of these buildings. He became famous as a force behind the resurgence of Thai silk (especially when it was showcased in The King and I). Looked around the showroom – Jim Thompson is becoming a luxury designer brand in its own right – but we were rather put-off by the prices.

In the afternoon we headed to the MBK shopping mall, rather like an asian market spread over seven levels of shopping heaven/hell. Had an awful, but cheap, lunch at an all you can eat place which promised noodles and curry. Most of the curries, despite the labels, had no meat or vegetable matter but I found one with some promising morsels of what looked like beef. I hope it was tofu. Meat should have some sort of texture. Still we managed to fill oursevles on noodles and sauce for the equivalent of a couple of dollars.

The pain in my side was a little worse by this time, so we headed back to the hotel. In the evening we intended to see Victory Monument, a enourmous traffic roundabout just a few minutes from our hotel, but after walking in the wrong direction for twenty minutes, and Ally falling over on the uneven pavement, we gave up the search and found a little restaurant where we had delicious calamari, pork with basil (literally) and a green curry that I ended up picking the meat out of because of the heat.

My side still hurt as I considered our cursed couple of days and drifted off to sleep dreaming of appropriate punishments for the scammers of Bangkok.

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Flying To The City of Angels

Posted by adam on December 3rd, 2009 No Comments

Day was mostly taken up with our flight from Phnom Penh to Bangkok, again with AirAsia. Early this morning we visited the National Musuem, primarily for its collection of Angkor-era statutory. Caught a tuktuk across to the mustard yellow deco Central Market, which is undergoing renovations, but we were hasselled by some surprisingly unfriendly stall-keepers.

Wandered through Phnom Penh before making our way back to the hotel, where our driver from two days before, Dara – apparently a little worse for wear after a big night – picked us up to take us to the airport.

Roads in Cambodia are treated like any other public space – at the edges of, say, a six lane main road there may be a lane or two or each side which is travelling in the ‘right’ direction, but in the middle of every road is a broad, ambigouous area shared by traffic travelling in both directions. The system works surprisingly well, basically due to the fact that most of the traffic consists of small scooters or motorcycles, but cars and four wheel drives operate in the same manner. There is, in short, never any guarantee that traffic anywhere on the road will be travelling in any particular direction. When crossing the road there is a moment (and when crossing a large road it is quite a time) when you have to, quite litetterally, look in both directions at once. Failure to do so is met with a barrage of scooter horns and close shaves.

Nonetheless, Cambodian drivers seem less aggressive, less stressed and less frustrated than their Australian compatriots. They simply don’t expect the drivers around them to do to act in a certain way and presume the other drivers could do anything. If they have to slow down because there is a car or scooter heading directly for them they simply toot the horn and slow, perhaps move momentarily towards the correct side the road, and they continue on. I am sure there are some horrific accidents, but we never saw any.

We made our way through a crowd of people milling around the foyer of the airport, but initially there was no sign of our flight or where we should book in. After ascertaining that there were, indeed, only the 15 or so check-in desks (and nowhere at all to buy food or drink before security) we found seats and were left to amuse ourselves watching the other passengers on our flight begin to arrive and go through the same process of puzzlement, anxiety and relief that we had. We got chatting to a Belgian backpacker (whose name we found out) who has been through Thailand, Burma, Laos and Cambodia. He had loved Burma; apparently the people were genuinely and unhesitatingly warm and he thought the Bagan temples as spectactular, if not more, than Angkor Wat (although to because he was somewhat ‘templed out’ that was the only temple around Siem Reap he had seen). Check-in was smooth for us, altough not for a couple before us who elected to repack rather than pay $1USD per kilo in excess luggage.

Both Ally and I managed to set off the security sensors but with the sacrifice of a bottle of sunscreen stupidly left in carryon we wandered around a couple of little duty free shops, perusing the interesting Chinese tobacco and alcohol.

Airplane was a little on the tatty side – for the first time AirAsia really felt like a budget airline but there was nothing to complain about. This time Ally and I were seated together, with nothing but an aisle between us.The hot meals we had ordered online were too grand for this tiny plane, so we had to settle for smoked chicken foccacias, which we both quite enjoyed.

From the airplane we had a 10 minute bus ride to the long lines of immigration. Successfully caught a metered taxi to our hotel. The driver serenaded us with several tunes along the way and laughed, frequently, in a fashion which was just on the happy side of manic. During the drive I felt like a yokel as I wondered at the modernity of Bangkok after just a week in Cambodia – the enourmous spagetthi junctions, the billboards and the illuminated skyscrapers. It really felt like the largest city I had ever seen, and possibly just about justified it’s name, which translated, means: “The city of angels, the great city, the eternal jewel city, the impregnable city of God Indra, the grand capital of the world endowed with nine precious gems, the happy city, abounding in an enormous Royal Palace that resembles the heavenly abode where reigns the reincarnated god, a city given by Indra and built by Vishnukarm”.

On arrival four or five employees immediately jumped upon the car to open the doors, welcome us and remove our luggage. Room at the hotel was just gorgeous, lovely view of the pool and worth three times what we are paying for it. As it seemed to too late to do anything we both collapsed for the night with dreams of the pool.

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A Monkey Walks Into A Bar…

Posted by adam on November 30th, 2009 1 Comment

Began the day with a really nice breakfast at the FCC overlooking the National Museum in one direction and the Tonle Sap river in the other.

We met our driver, Dara, and headed out the Cheung Ek ‘Killing Fields’ about 15 kilometers Southeast of Phnom Penh. A fitting memorial to the thousands of Cambodians who were killed and buried in mass graves during the four years of Khmer Rouge rule between 1975 and 1979. A large stupa contains seventeen levels of clothes, skulls and bones exhumed from the mass graves which now resemble craters dotting the area. Visitors are allowed to wander as they wish in the area, which made me feel particularly uncomfortable when our guide pointed out a handful of teeth barely buried in the dirt. Apparently remains are still washed to the surface during heavy rain. The site was chosen as it had been a Chinese cemetary where the site of bodies, and the accompanying stench, were less likely to arouse suspiousion. This is just one of many such sites which dot the country.

I have to admit the site just made be feel terribly cold – the utterly arbitary and brutal slayings of so many; beaten with blunt instruments to save bullets by a doctrinaire and paranoid regime certain of its own righteousness. Only now are some of the Khmer Rouge leaders believed to be responsible being tried – trials about which our guide was cynical as too little too late. During the ride back to Phnom Penh, Dara told us that his father had been amongst the victims of the Khmer Rouge.

For some relief we went next to the Russian Market, so named in the 80‘s when nearly all the foreigners in Phnom Penh were from the former USSR. A wonderful, bustling market full of tiny narrow little alleyways with goods piled to the ceiling. Ally and I are still far from expert bargainers and we were probably seperated from far too much of our money, but I did pick up a ‘legitimate’ North Face rucksack for USD$21. If it gets me through the trip I’ll be estatic. We picked up some T-shirts and other tourist nick nacks, but the real joy was just wandering through the incredible, dynamic space which so well typifies modern Cambodia. Energetic, enterprenurial and irrepressable.

After the relief of the market we returned to our melancholy mood as we visited Toul Sleng, the former detention and interrogation camp of the Khmer Rouge. A converted high school the site has become, along with the Killing Fields, a symbol of the barbarity of Pol Pot’s rule. What shocked me was the improvised, makeshift, nature of the gaol and torture camp created from four non-descript buildings in the center of Phnom Penh – where classrooms were rudely partitioned with brick or timber cellds, the front of the buildings strung with barbed and razor wire, and gym equipment became the apparatus for torture. Nothing characterised the place better than the security regulations posted in the courtyard.

After lunch at the FCC we made the prilgramage to Wat Phnom – considered the founding hill of Phnom Penh. The pagoda at the top of the hill was lovely, but it was the gorgeous French-inspired park which surrounded it that we really appreciated. Complete with Parisian lamp-posts, monkeys, elephant rides, children playing and vendors selling various snacks. It was so far removed from the Phnom Penh I expected to find – this city was virtually emptied by the Khmer Rouge who sought to create a rural idyll in Cambodia, yet it is among the most charming capital cities I have visited in Asia. The riverfront, where the FCC is situated, is composed of unspoilt, low-profile, colonial period buildings, and fairly bustles at night.

We wandered along the esplanade up to Grand Palace to take some photos, intending to dine at Friends restaurant, which gives employment and training to former street kids, but they were already full and Ally was feeling pretty ordinary with an upset stomach. We returned to the riverside, chosing a restaurant almost at random.

After dinner Ally turned in and I wandered up to the bar at the FCC for a nightcap with Jo and Greg. As we watched Phnom Penh pass below us a monkey ran along the electrical wiring and into the bar on the other side of the road! It took about ten minutes for anyone there to notice, during which we considered the protocols surrounding informing them about the rogue primate. After he made himself known, and a waiter gave chase with a broom all appeared to be peacefully resolved, but we still don’t know whether he managed to get his drink or not.

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Get Your Kicks On Route 6

Posted by adam on November 30th, 2009 2 Comments

We were all picked up early by the Mekong Express minibus, which had perhaps had better days. Rumbled around the back streets of Siem Reap picking up tourists until we pulled into the bus station. The Mekong Express bus company are recommended by all the guide books and were the recommendation of our guide Sanchey. Cost was $USD11 per person. The Mekong Express bus, which took 6 hours to rumble down route #6 to Phnom Penh, was comfortable enough but certainly nothing flash – it had a toilet and was certainly airconditioned, but it seemed a little tired. some of the buses alongside looked a little nicer, but I’m not sure whether they were going to Phnom Penh or longer trips to Ho Chi Minh or Bangkok.

We each recieved a bottle of water and a box containing a dried pork bun and a peanut cookie – Greg complimented the bun but Ally and I found the fiborous texture of the “pork” a little too disconcerting. I found the peanut cookie to be pleasant, although I think it consisted of little more than crushed peanuts and sugar.

Trip was flat and uneventful. One stop somewhere in Kampong Cham provence. To our dissapointment this was not a the village famours (notourious?) for its fried spiders. Rather it was a nondescript little place with a a couple of vendors and a large, very Chinese looking, restaurant which was doing a good trade with travellers on the road. There was one lady selling various bugs, including spiders, but she was very unhappy with tourists photographing her wares. I decided that, with another three hours between us and Phnom Penh and the flies around her fried delights being less of a concern than the Westerners wanting to photograph the spiders that I would wait for another opportunity to munch on an arachnid.

Arrived at the Mekong Express office in Phnom Penh and we managed to locate our bags. The touts were kept out the fenced off area, so we decided to take a moment to collect our thoughts. Literally before Ally and Greg could light a cigarette the fences dividing the taxi and tuktuk drivers and us, their prey, were removed. We were surrounded. We nearly provoked an ugly incident by agreeing to go with a taxi driver who had not been the first to shout taxi at us, but this was resolved by agreeing to go with whoever had called ‘Shotgun’ on us. I think the driver managed to pad out the short journey to our hotel, the FCC.

The Foreign Correspondents Club in Phnom Penh is a lovely little spot on the riverside. Only opened in 1993 it seems to have almost as much character as many of the grand old colonial hotels. It’s a bit of a charmer. On the second and third floors are the bar, with lovely views over the confluence of the Mekong and Tonle Sap rivers. The four rooms are on the first floor (ours was just under the pool tables) and they are chic and elegant. The minibar contains all the journalist necessities; 750ml bottles of gin, scoth, rum.

In the evening Ally and I wandered up to the night market along the quay. The market, which was only just beginning, was very subdued and, to be honest, not particularly interested. Stopped off on the way back to the FCC to have a $USD2.50 campari and orange overlooking the Tonle Sap at one of the multitude of bars which line the riverbank.

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Dollarmites, Tuk Tuks and Overheard Comments

Posted by ally on November 29th, 2009 No Comments

After our adventures in Thailand we have a little time to reflect on our  experiences in Cambodia.

Siem Reap is an amazing town.  For all the tourists that go through there, the people, for the most part, are happy, friendly and helpful.  They are quick with a smile and will go out of their way to point you in the right direction.  The tuk tuk drivers will generally leave you alone after your first ‘No’ to the inevitable “Tuk Tuk Ladee?” and most are willing to have a chat if you have the time to stop.

We nicknamed the kids that come up to you selling souviners “Dollarmites” as everything is $1.  “One dollar ladee” is a common cry everywhere you go.  They sell everything from postcards to flutes and scarves.  Even they are happy to have a chat if there are not too many other tourists around.  They really are wonderful children and it’s sad to see that they have to go out to tout so they can suppliment the family income.

We stayed at the Sala Bai hotel which is a school for disadvantaged kids to learn about the hospitality industry.  The criteria is that they must be between the ages of 17 and 23 and their family income must be under $25 US per month.  These kids work really hard and always have a smile on their faces.  They were very helpful to us and no request was too hard.  We were very sorry to leave there.

The temples are many and simply amazing.  I was awestruck with each one that we went to.  The amount of work and art that has gone into each one is stunning.  It was also fun to just listen to the comments of the other tourists around us.  The most memorable of which was overheard by Greg  – “The temples are nice, but they do go on about them” – said by an American about his guide but another, just as memorable – “Everything in this country costs one dollar…except this” – said in response to the cost of the boat ride on Tonle Sap (we did not end up doing this).  I’m not too sure why an Angkor guide would be going on about Angkorian temples but there you go.

On to Phnom Penh where the dollarmites are a little more aggressive, Adam was told to ‘F off’ by one of them after he repeatedly said no to buying books, but still not too bad.  We stayed at FCC which is very nice.  It’s a bigger budget hotel than Sala Bai and was really comfortable right across the street from the river.  The staff were a little standoffish but that was probably to be expected, after all, it is a bigger hotel.

Just about all of us got sick or had just been sick by the time we got to Phnom Penh.  It slowed us down but didn’t stop us.  We went to the very very horrifying Killing Fields where the Khemer Rouge took people to be killed.  Apparently because it started as a Chinese cemetry they thought the smell would not be noticed so much.  Pity they didn’t think that the sheer amount of people they put to death would be noticed too much.

Our wonderful driver Dara, of whom Adam will post later, then decided that the Russian market would cheer us up a bit.  He was right.  What a crazy place.  It’s big and very very compact.  We wandered around there for a couple of hours before getting back into the car and off to the S21 museum.  This place used to be a school before the Khmer Rouge took it over as a prison.  The thought of the thousands of people that were kept prisoner within those walls is sickening.  Particularlly when most were then sent on to the killing fields for their final day or two.  The pictures on the walls were very graphic and literally made me sick to my stomach.  For some reason the Khmer Rouge were meticulous record keepers and there are rooms and rooms filled with the photos of just about every person who went through the S21 prison.  It’s a horrible past and one that the Cambodian people, rightfully I think, remember to ensure it never happens again in the future.

After that we were back to the hotel.  With Jo not feeling the best Adam and I set off for a wander up to the new night market.  We were a bit disappointed as it looked almost exactly like any market at home.  We wandered back down the street and stopped for a drink and some banana and honey pancakes.  YUM!

The next day was my turn to not be feeling on top of the world.  We had planned to go to the Royal Palace but I was just not up to it.  I was feeling particularly as it was our last day with Jo and Greg.  Greg and Adam tried to go and take some photos from the outside of the Grand Palace but were shooed away as there was some African delegation visiting.  As a result we lounged around in the hotel until Jo and Greg left for Bangkok.

Feeling a little better in the afternoon, Adam and I went to see the Palace, which was a lovely place, and then to a resturant called Friends which is also a school, this time for street kids.  The food was good and the service friendly.

Next day was our turn to be leaving.  We really loved Cambodia and are already talking about our next trip there.  It was surpising just how lovely the people are and how friendly.  I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for their next holiday.  It’s a country full of contrasts from the extreme poverty and ancient temples to the new building that is happening all around and the seemingly rich tourists that come to climb all over their national treasures.

Wat a wonderful place!!!!!

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In Which Our Hero Wets Himself, Repeatedly.

Posted by ally on November 20th, 2009 No Comments

The theme of day one in KL was damp – from the slightly sticky sweet smell of the tropics as I entered the terminal, to the perspiration as I dragged my luggage to the hotel, to the down pour in the afternoon in which I managed to get drenched, to the enourmous shower-head in the hotel room which provided a great shower in spades. Welcome to the wet zone Adam!

After getting to the hotel, looking like someone who had spent half a day running under a sprinkler and leaving a little wet puddle on the lovely marble reception desk I was happy to take any room available. The fellow at reception – Ramesh – was somewhat brusque, which I put down to my damp condition. However, after seeing him check in another couple the next morning I took the lack of a smile or pleasantries less personally.

The room was lovely and all I wanted to do was get cleaned up and sleep. When the bellboy brought my bag, (and pointed out the lights would work better if I put my keycard in the appropriate thingy) I knew I should tip something but really had not the slightest idea how much – I shuffled through my wallet searching for an appropriate amount and slightly begruding the lovely fellow for my own discomfort and uncertainty. Amounts ranging from 20, or 30 ringgit to the 1 rinngit notes in my wallet all seemed plausible. Realising the situation was getting uncomfortable I grabbed a couple of notes and hurridly shoved them into his hand. I had tipped 2 rinngit and immediately the mental arithmatic kicked in and I realised I had tipped him about 60 cents. I tried to say something, but I was mute as he backed out of the room, thanking me profusely, as I made some sort of ‘I’m sorry’ / ‘Oh, my God, I’m drowning mime’ which I could appreciate fully because of the mirror directly in front of me.

Had a bath and couple of hours kip, then headed out to the Islamic Arts Museum. It was a fair walk from the train and, again, I was sweating like anything on arrival. I intended to eat at the Museum before looking around, but was informed the cafe had just closed before I arrived. It was very interesting, especially the special expedition about the Hajj, but to be honest after about half an hour my stomach demanded food and I was fading fast.

By the time I had finished in the Museum it was raining hard and I had no idea where to go for food. I headed out towards Bukit Bintang, stupidly, by foot. I used KL tower as a landmark and headed towards it. I got close to it and it started raining really, really hard. It  a was only then that I remembered that KL tower is at the bottom of a big, steep hill. Somehow managed to clamber up in the pouring rain and sought out somewhere to eat and dry off at the base of the tower. All the food outlets turned out to be expensive and unattrative. Sat down with a drink and contemplated my sad lot.

I didn’t really want to get a taxi because I didn’t know where I wanted to go and thought about finding the monorail as the weather had eased off. I literally completed one circuit around the tower and returned sopping wet, again! Gave in and took a taxi to Suria KLCC, the Petronas Twin Towers. Found a food court there, which I had missed earlier. Made a very passable supper out of BBQ Chicken Rice and red guava juice. Headed back to the hotel, which took all of five minutes, but again I arrived looking like I’d swam.

Collapsed into the bed, but left the lights on as I had to charge the camera and phone. Finally at 3am I turned the lights off for good and slept soundly until morning. I awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed, feeling at peace with the world and with none of the soreness I expected from the flight and all the walking of the previous day.

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It’s a long, long way to Kuala Lumpur…

Posted by adam on November 15th, 2009 No Comments

AKA: AirAsia Ouch!

I'm flying!Flight from Melbourne to KL on AirAsia X was not nearly as horrible as I feared but no better than I expected. Check-in was again a breeze. Flight left twenty minutes late, but landed twenty minutes early. Seats cramped, but a bigger issue I found was the lack of legroom meant I couldn’t stow my bag below the seat in front. Overhead compartments seemed small and I had trouble fitting my (reasonably small) carry on inside. I annoyed everyone around me constantly getting up and down to access it that in the end I gave up, stowed it as best I could in front of me and tried to wrap my legs around it. This was uncomfortable even for someone with my short legs so I would definitely recommend bringing a second small carry-on with the items you are likely to need on board.
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